#I just went with the finger spelling version

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

🍷Illicit Affairs🍷

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

(2nd person narrator on tumblr & OC with 3rd person narrator on Ao3!)

tags: Wine Mom AU, Lilia is Alice's mom, Lorna is Lilia's ex wife, divorced lesbian!Lilia, reader is Alice's best friend, and has a crush on her mom, Crushes, Yearning, Family Fluff, pet names,

wc: ~ 3.1 k (Chapter 1/4)

summary: Alice has been your best friend for years—you're a familiar face in the Calderu household. But recently, you have developed a crush on your best friend's mom Lilia.

A/N: canon Lilia is Sicilian but I couldn't find enough resources on the language and culture to write it confidently, and since this is an AU anyway, I went with her being Italian and got some advice in from a friendly reader <3

-> 3rd person/OC version on Ao3

*************************************

The setting sun shone in your face through the large window, casting a golden glow over your face, your hair, and your fingers moving over the frets of the guitar. It was magic. Golden. A sparkling spell wrapping around Alice and you.

You swung the guitar into the air as the last riff rang out and Alice struck the final chord behind you on the piano. You wiped the sheen of sweat from your forehead that two hours of band practice had put there and dropped onto the piano stool next to your best friend.

"I think we're good for Saturday," you said, gasping for breath, and rested your head on Alice's shoulder.

"If you still have a voice by then." She nudged you with her elbow. "Seriously, don't stress so much about it."

"It's our first real gig." Your tone had a bit of a pout to it. Alice was right: you were overdoing it and straining your voice, but the thought of a room full of people listening to you just made you want it to be perfect. No. The thought of Alice's mother, Lilia, who she lived with, watching did.

"And so what? It's only my other mom's pub."

"As if your other mom wasn't Lorna fucking Wu!"

"That was a long time ago."

"Damn right it was!" Lilia called as the front door fell shut and you heard her dropping her bag onto the floor. "That old hag couldn't carry a tune if her life depended on it these days!"

You both laughed, familiar with Lilia's crude yet harmless sense of humour, and followed Alice into the hallway, leaning against the doorframe as she greeted her mother with a hug and a kiss to each cheek. But then Lilia focused on you and frowned, beckoning you closer. "You don't wanna let mamma go without a hug from her dolcezza, do you?"

Blushing at the term of endearment she always used on you, you joined them, and as you wrapped your arms around both, Lilia pressed a sloppy kiss into your hair and then her daughter's. When you'd first befriended Alice in college, you'd envied her for how open and loud her family's love was, but you'd quickly learnt that there was no reason to. They treated you just the same.

"Why are you home so late?" Alice asked as Lilia released the two of you. "I thought with the new concierge things were running smoother at the hotel..."

"I wish, piccina!" Lilia exclaimed with a sigh and headed for the spacious kitchen, where she took out a bottle of Bordeaux and poured each of you a glass. "If they weren't all behaving as if they didn't have a head on their shoulders."

Her grey, shoulder-length hair cascaded in waves down beside her neck as she tilted her head, contrasting the white blouse and pastel plaid scarf draped across one shoulder. She handled the bottle with elegant flicks of her wrist, light catching in the golden rings on her fingers, and set it down to pick her own glass up.

"To the imbeciles I work with!" she toasted with a subtle shake of her head that made her bangs swing and took a generous sip from her glass, leaving a crimson lipstick stain behind that you eyed longer than you should.

"Will you be there on Saturday?" you asked her, slipping onto a stool at the kitchen island as Alice had done.

Alice sent you a scolding look. You knew that Lilia refused to go anywhere near Lorna since the divorce, but you couldn't help but want her there. Alice and Lilia had been the best support you could've wished for when you'd first figured out you were into women: Lilia had let you stay at her house for a week after your first situationship had ended horribly, and... you liked Lilia. A lot. More than someone should like their best friend's mom.

"Oh, I'm not sure, honey," Lilia declined politely and hid behind her glass. For all that she was cocky about Lorna and their divorce, you'd known her long enough to know it still stung.

"It's okay, mamma."

The mood dampened a bit. It was easy to tell that Alice would like her there too, but she'd long gotten that idea out of her head due to the situation—but you couldn't let it rest.

"It would mean a lot," you said, biting your lip as her eyes locked onto yours. So big and brown and beautiful.

"Oh, my dolcezza." Lilia gave a loud exhale, her eyebrows pinched together as she softened for you. "You know I can't say no to my favourite girls."

It was your turn to hide the effect of her words behind a sip of wine. The cotton comfort it washed over you was much needed. These days, her proximity was enough to send your stomach into a flutter.

It had started a few months ago. You'd been tidying up after band practice, alone, since Alice had had a date that night and needed to leave early, and that's when you'd heard Lilia sing in the kitchen. It was the first time you'd heard her voice, and you hadn't been able to believe your ears. It was so rich and melodious, with a strong vibrato and an unfathomable depth of emotion that pulled you in.

And so you'd gone to investigate, tiptoed through the polished hallways, all decorated in apricot and pale blue, towards the kitchen, careful not to alert her to your presence. She'd been washing up the pile of dishes, putting some in the dishwasher, soaking some in the sink, drying others, and putting them away, all the while floating through the kitchen and singing Time After Time, a nearly empty glass of red on the counter.

You'd been mesmerised. She'd still been in her work clothes—a knee-length black dress, long-sleeved, with a low-cut neckline and lapels, tied at the waist—but her hair had come loose from its updo and whirled around her head as she moved. You haven't looked at her the same since.

"Thanks, mamma," Alice said, and Lilia cupped her daughter's cheek.

She'd done that the night you'd found her singing to you. When she'd finally noticed you—startled and nearly dropping the plate in her hand—she'd invited you to sit with her. You'd complimented her singing, but she'd insisted she was terrible and that she was embarrassed you'd heard her. It had been adorable to see the proud woman you knew all flustered.

You'd filled hours with banter and laughter without noticing. She'd touched your hand here, patted your cheek there, brushed your shoulder—all without intent, but it had already been too late for you. She'd let you sleep on the couch, covered you with a blanket, and then... she'd kissed you goodnight. The brush of her lips against your temple, however brief, had followed you into your dreams and left your heart aching.

"Now girls, what d'ya want for dinner?"

"Oh, I was just leaving," you said, gesturing over your shoulder. "Got work in the morning."

"Macché!" Lilia huffed as if offended, her fingers tightening around the stem of the glass like your stomach at the sight. "You're staying."

"But I won't get enough sleep if I get home too late."

"Then you sleep here. End of discussion."

You raised your eyebrows and muttered, "Yes, ma'am," into your glass as you drank the rest of your wine and shared a conspiratorial grin with Alice, who was used to her mother's antics.

***

As was the custom in the Calderu household, everyone had to help prepare the meal. Pasta. Lilia found it terribly cliché, but it was the go-to dish when nobody was in the mood for an endless discussion about what to cook.

You were assigned the tomatoes, Alice cooked the spaghetti, and Lilia was in charge of salt, pepper, and spices, because everyone knew she wasn't beyond yelling if someone ruined her pasta.

Cyndi Lauper played in the background, and Alice and Lilia were talking a mile a minute about the outdated plumbing at the hotel, about Alice's new job as a security guard at the casino, and about your music. No one was more excited about your band than Lilia. She'd already promised she'd let you play at the hotel and use her connections to get you more gigs, but Alice had wanted to do a test run first and spoken to her other mom, who was equally supportive, though Alice saw her less.

She'd moved back in with Lilia when she couldn't find a job after college right away, and when she did, Lilia and Lorna had just gotten divorced, and she hadn't wanted to leave her mom on her own. The house was more than big enough for two people anyway, and they all did their own thing, but they took comfort in knowing that they always had someone nearby.

You were washing the tomatoes under the sink when Lilia's perfume, rose and jasmine, filled your senses. Then two warm hands settled on your hips as she tried to move you aside so she could reach something in the cupboard above the sink. She tiptoed and stretched her arm out, using your hip for stability, and her front brushed against your back. Your heartbeat quickened, and you held your breath until she'd taken what she needed.

"You okay, hon?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Should I turn the heating down? Your cheeks are burning up."

"I, um..." You squirmed. "Yeah, it's a bit hot in here."

"Should've said something!" she said and went to turn down the thermostat while you had to set the tomatoes down for a moment to collect yourself and do everything in your power to erase the shape of her breasts from the tactile memory of your shoulder blades.

Alice, having taken note of your change in demeanour, put her hand on your shoulder and grabbed a few tomatoes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just thought about someone."

She wiggled her eyebrows. "Someone, huh?"

You picked up the remaining tomatoes and headed back to the counter, where Lilia had already prepared a cutting board and knife for you. "It doesn't matter."

"Come on, spill the tea." She bumped her hip to yours. "You met someone?"

"Alice, shut it!" you snapped and surprised yourself with the sharpness of your tone. Even Lilia stopped her rustling and looked over her shoulder. You closed your eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry. It's complicated."

"Right."

Alice returned to the stove, still a bit put off, and you began to chop the tomatoes. It was quieter now, each caught in their own heads, until Lilia stood behind the both of you and rubbed your backs with one hand each, though to you she leaned in and spoke close to your ear. "Don't you want to talk to me, my dolcezza?"

To Lilia, yes. You always wanted to talk to her, in private, close, but not here in front of Alice. But her voice was so soft in your ear, her breath caressing warm down the side of your neck. You gave yourself a push and spoke, though you couldn't look at anyone for fear of giving yourself away. "There's a woman... who's older."

"Hm!" Lilia hummed teasingly, her eyes flashing with amusement. "Hear that, Alice? Our girl's got her eyes on a cougar!"

Alice chortled, and though you didn't appreciate the show Lilia was making of it, you were glad that she always knew how to bring Alice around. She might be the cornerstone of your long-lasting friendship.

"You being serious?"

"Well, I didn't mean to." You shrugged apologetically. "And besides, nothing can happen anyway."

"Why's that? She your boss or something?"

"No, but..."

"Honey, look at me," Lilia interrupted, and you couldn't help but obey even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. The moment your eyes locked on hers, your heart leapt and your mouth ran dry. "Give me your hand."

She put her own on the counter and wiggled her fingers until you relented and put your hand into hers. The way she squeezed it made warmth blossom in your chest, and you had a hard time not averting your eyes despite the burn that built behind them.

"Now, listen to me. Love is the law." Your breath hitched, and your fingers crumpled the hem of your dress. "It knows no ethics between consenting adults. So she's older; now what? So she's your boss or goes bowling with your mother. It does not matter. You hear me?"

You nodded, pressing your lips together, holding back your confession of how you couldn't stop thinking about her, how you persuaded Alice to practice at hers not because the acoustics were better but because you so desperately and pathetically wanted to be near her.

"And you've got us. Alice and I won't judge."

"Yeah," Alice joined in and patted your shoulder.

"Thanks, guys," you said and slipped your hand from Lilia's—you couldn't bear it one second longer—and hugged Alice.

"What about you, mamma?" Alice asked once you'd all continued your respective tasks. "You haven't dated anyone since the divorce."

"You know how old I am."

Alice scoffed so hard you feared she might've spat into the boiling water. "What sort of excuse is that?"

"It's not an excuse, piccina. Most women my age are either married or dead—"

"Don't be so morbid!"

"—and don't see the point in dating anyone anymore."

"You could take a younger lover," Alice suggested in jest. "Like your dolcezza."

You choked on your own saliva, eyes widening as the other women fell into bright laughter, and coughed.

"Yeah, yeah, wrinkly old thing like me," Lilia snorted and chuckled more.

The sound made your skin tingle, although her words chafed at your heartstrings. "Your age doesn't make you any less desirable," you said as neutrally as you could muster.

Lilia stared at you for a split second, then cracked a small smile.

***

You'd eaten at the long table in the dining room, with a matching pale blue runner across it and a hearth at one end with a fire crackling in it. The pasta was perfect; no less was allowed at the Calderu's, and the conversation light as opposed to the one in the kitchen. More wine had flowed and had put you all in a sleepy haze.

You and Alice were going over a few details for the gig when Lilia returned from the living room. "The couch is ready for you, hon."

"I'll be off too," Alice announced, stretching her arms and yawning. "Day's catching up with me."

"And I've got an early start," you said and stood up. "I'll see you after work tomorrow?"

"Don't think we need another run-through, but sure."

"Night, then."

You went to the bathroom first and readied yourself for bed with a wine-clouded mind. While you brushed your teeth, your gaze drifted to the towels, and you wondered which one was Lilia's, which one wrapped around her form like your arms did in your daydreams when you swayed together. The tins of anti-ageing creams saddened you.

After you were done brushing your teeth, you picked up the wooden hairbrush with the distinct grey hairs in it and turned it in your hands, ran your fingertips over the bristles as if they could tell you what her scalp felt like and how her moans sounded at the gentle massage after a long day of having her hair pinned up.

"Will you be long, I—"

Lilia cut herself off, stopped in her tracks, and blinked at the image of you clutching her hairbrush to your chest.

You scrambled for an explanation. "I—I didn't bring a hairbrush; I'm sorry. I should've asked—"

Shaking herself out of her state of surprise, Lilia stepped up to you and took the hairbrush from your hands. "It's no problem, honey." She began to comb your hair for you as if it were second nature to her, brushing the ends first and working her way up, your hair slipping through her fingers. You watched her in the mirror, at a loss for words. "But I would've cleaned it for you, you know."

"No, I... I don't mind."

"There we go," she said, finishing up and setting the brush back in its place. "You should go to bed now. It's late, and you've got an early morning."

"Yeah," you breathed, still all over the place after she had touched you like that, brushed your hair with her hairbrush. "Goodnight."

You left on autopilot and headed into the living room with the wall that was more window and sat on the couch. Lilia had readied for you with a sheet and a duvet. She'd also put a folded pair of pyjamas of Alice's out for you, and you wished she'd given you one of hers instead.

Changed and tired, you fell into the sofa cushions and pulled the blanket over you, listening to the sounds of the house: Alice in her room, Lilia in the bathroom. It smelt of scented candle. Everywhere in the house, it smelt of vanilla, even in the bathroom. It mixed well with Lilia's perfume.

"Have you settled in?" Lilia's voice reached your ears, quiet and tentative. She approached in her white nightgown and cream silk dressing gown and bent over you, putting her hand on the curve from your waist to your hip. "It's not too cold, is it? I can get you another blanket just in case—"

"No, no, I'm fine, Lilia. Thank you."

Would she give you a goodnight kiss again?

She nodded, and you thought she'd leave when she removed her hand, but instead, she sat on the narrow space in front of your stomach. "I was a little worried about you earlier. You wanna talk some more?"

Your breath stuttered, and an invisible hand clutched your heart. You wanted to put your head in her lap, wanted her to stay with you all night.

"No, I'm okay," you assured her. "Just a little nervous about Saturday, that's all."

"Are you sure?" She reached out and ran her fingers through your hair and along the side of your face, nudging your nose with a tender smile on her lips. You couldn't help but return it.

"Yes."

You wanted to say more, ask her for a hug, anything—but you stayed quiet.

"I'll hit the hay too then." She leaned down and kissed your forehead, and your stomach promptly did a somersault as your cheeks rounded with an even bigger smile. "Sleep tight, dolcezza mia."

[saphig-iawn]

Stuffing and String

Something I ask of my subjects and dolls is to think of a little safe space in their mind for the spells I weave in them. I've heard so many different spaces from them, like a heart shaped box, a deck of cards, even a wind-up dancer on a music box.

My subject today had envisioned this safe space as a ragdoll of her, with every new spell a bow I would tie in her hair.

But this got her thinking. Thinking got her feeling. Feeling got her aroused. The idea of a plush ragdoll version of her sat amongst her plushies had her feeling overcome with excitement.

Today was her day to become that ragdoll.

She sank deeply into trance, landing softly in my lap.

It was there that I began to weave the spell in her, gentle threading the sensations of transforming into doll within every part of her.

It starts at her feet, like thick woolly socks are being put on her feet and rolled up. The feeling rolls higher and higher, and as it climbs, she feels the strength in her muscles just melt away as her muscles get spun into soft stuffing.

Up past her hips, her intimate area becoming nothing but a soft plushie bulge. Her stomach becomes full of warmth and giggles as her skin turns to string and her muscles into stuffing.

Then her fingers draw together, like big thick mittens are being put on. Much like with her feet, the feeling climbs, her arms become so limp and loose, barely able to move.

The feelings converge on her chest, her breasts padding out with a little extra stuffing, before climb up her neck.

All the words in her throat unspool until there's nothing left but gentle hums. Then her neck softs leaving her head to rest wherever it can.

It climbs up the back of her head, her hair uncoiling into colourful yarn.

Then finally it reaches her face.

Her lips become embroidered into a permanent smile.

Her eyes become pretty buttons.

In her mind, a brand new bow appeared in her dolly's hair.

After the trance and a little aftercare, I spoke the spell and she went limp instantly. Her giggles became soft hums as I talked to her. I can forgive her for the one-sided conversation.

But being nothing but stuffing and string made her plush bulge ache with need, so I reversed the spell and gave her permission to play.

She was nearing that wonderful climax but suddenly found all the strength leave her body as the spell left my lips.

She hummed in sweet frustration at my denial.

So I reversed the spell and urged her to continue.

She just about to tumble over that edge into bliss and- oops! Nothing but stuffing and string again.

I asked if she wanted to climax, if she wanted to collapse into pleasure.

She hummed affirmatively.

"Well go on then", I sneered.

Her helpless hum was something I wish I could've bottled up because you could taste the frustration.

After her climax, after she was all spent and cared for, we ended our session with something a little special.

There was an extra element to her spell which was that she could be left to fall asleep as a ragdoll, and upon waking up would feel bright and fresh and returned to normal.

So our session ended with me reading to her some of my new pieces, while she could do nothing but lie on her bed, surrounded by her plushies, with nothing but a beaming smile embroidered on her face.

[inklessletter]

The first time Steve hears Eddie singing that song, it's nothing but a absent-minded humming while he's doing something else. Writing something down, he thinks, for the campaign, probably.

Steve knows that song, that's why he smiled when he heard the soft, muffled tone falling out of Eddie's throat. Steve's heard Will singing it, and it's so painfully Jonathan, that song wears his signature all over. Maybe it's because it's The Smiths, and The Smiths is Jonathan.

Steve holds a smile and keeps himself busy, away from Eddie's eyes, because of course, that's what he does. No need to cause a scene, he could go on with his day without Eddie asking him "why are you smiling like an airhead?" Nah, thank you very much.

It's not his music scene, but Steve admits that it has been a favourite since it came out. It was just so goddamn relatable. He first heard it when Nancy dumped him, and sometimes, when he was working at Scoops, he could hear that song coming from the rock station Robin liked, coming from the backroom. No surprise she likes that song too.

Those were dark times for him. Summer job at Scoops, that is. It was a disappointment after another; no university, no high school anymore, no girlfriend, no status to hide after, no friends but the kids he drove all around Hawkins (and yet, three weeks away from Dustin, who was the only one who actually went to see him without asking for anything in return), the most embarrassing dry spell and having absolutely zero idea of what to do next. And that song just randomly filled the air and he indulged himself for two minutes to sulk on his own misery and he felt surprisingly less depressed right after.

So, yeah, that song holds a special meaning for him, a soothing balm for his broken heart, a good nostalgia from his darkest period.

And it comes back to him, from Eddie's voice, and it comes to stay the rest of the day. The rest of the week.

It makes him sad. A good sad, Steve guesses.

He's not really better than a couple years ago, but he's less scared, which is undeniably a victory.

He lets out a sigh and walks away from Eddie, leaves him there, happy and focused and begging.

Steve comes to notice that Eddie sings that song a lot, and he's making it his business not to ask, not to sing along, not to say or do anything that may reveal that Eddie's version of that song is becoming so fast the best he's ever heard.

The day the older side of the group go to see him play with his band, and at some point, he just sits and grabs an acoustic guitar and sings it, that one song, the world turns around. It's hard to keep a straight face, and to breathe regularly. A prayer, a begging in form of ballad, the room is in respectful silence, or if there is any background noise his brain makes the greatest job ignoring it.

Feels Robin's hand slipping through his palm and lacing fingers, but he doesn't look at her.

He can't.

His lips, disloyal and treacherous bastards, shape the last sentence of the song.

Lord knows it would be the first time.

The last chord fills the negative space and the bar noises are there again out of the sudden, and some of his friends are shouting nice things, and Eddie is graciously discarding the acoustic guitar and grabbing his sweetheart again and Steve is hoping to go unnoticed when he wipes his face in a quick movement.

He knows Robin sees it, but she says nothing, merciful and elegant.

The gig goes on for a couple of more songs and it's far too soon when Eddie is there, letting himself fall on the stool next to him, all pleased and content and full of black smudged eyeliner and Steve knows he has to say something to him, so he opts to go with, "I really like that song."

It doesn't need any more saying, because Eddie grins and fucking bites his bottom lip, and looks at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world, leaning on the bar next to Steve, and Steve knows, he just knows Eddie knows which one he's talking about.

"Yeah. I bet you do."

He doesn't tease, doesn't go with the rancid bUt YoU lIsTeN tO tEaRs FoR fEaRs In YoUr CaR aLl tHe tImEeE shit like the kids like to whine. He doesn't pretend not to know which one he's talking about. Steve smiles at him, buys the guy a beer.

"So, Robin told you? About, uh, about the song."

He tries a bit too hard to look unaffected, but the label of his cold beer bottle has seen better days. Steve feels Eddie going still and turning his head to face him, wielding such soft, almost pitiful expression that makes Steve's inside go still, lungs not working, muscles tense, blood frozen in his veins, and somehow scalding in his cheeks. He dares to look at Eddie, who whispers, "She did not."

The time stops, or so Steve thinks, when he turns his head to look at Eddie, not really moving an inch.

The question goes unspoken.

The answer is one second too long of both their gazes taking residence in the other guy's lips.

And the song comes alive in Steve's mind, and his lips move again.

So for once in my life

let me get what I want

Lord knows, it would be the first time

[fairyysoup]

it will come back

part two

a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)

pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader

summary: As May Day approaches, you find yourself running into Eddie, and succumbing to his charms, more and more.

cw: smut, heavy petting, fingering, frottage, denied orgasm, public sex, getting caught, alcohol consumption (both eddie and reader), a bit of humiliation, teasing, tons of flirting, eddie munson's Big Meaty Claws, jealousy (by reader), eddie being a flirtatious shit all around, slight enemies to lovers beat here, some kind of historical fantasy period, fairytale au, descriptions of scars, mentions of abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master

a/n: Happy May! I wrote this in a complete stupor and woke up and it was almost 8.0k words, so there will be a part three. I also wanted to get this done yesterday, but that's not how the cookie crumbles. Alas.

The lyrics that Eddie sings in this are from a traditional English folk song, commonly called "As I Walked Through the Meadow." There are variations on the lyrics, but this is the version I used here.

MY WORKS ARE ALL 18+ MINORS DNI

The man from the creek is being thrown out of the tavern in the center of town.

You know because you’ve been watching since he went inside. Except, if anyone were to ask, you’d say you’re simply watching the ripples on the mud puddles on the dirt road in front of the building. They’re fascinating, you’d insist. They say you can see your future in them.

You’d noticed him going in as you were stepping out of the haberdashers. You knew it was him from the wine red of his blouse– it’s a rich color, like you’ve never seen on a garment worn by anyone in town, and certainly not by someone claiming to come from the woods. The last time you saw him, nearly a month ago now, you forgot to ask him where he got something so richly woven and colored, in such seemingly good repair. You contented yourself with a single lie: you didn’t want to know. 

You also figured that you would likely never see him again. That this so-called Eddie Munson was probably better off disappearing back into the woods and staying there. You’d never seen him in town before, and you certainly didn’t expect to see him there any time soon. He doesn’t exactly fit in with the rest of the townsfolk; people who work the land, who own it, who sow it. His rich red wine doesn’t fit into the bland suedes and dull grays of your neighbors. 

No– no, with his wild, curly hair and bright, rosy cheeks, he definitely doesn’t look like anyone who belongs in Havensfield. He belongs in a storybook. He belongs in a fairytale you tell to little children, to send them to sleep with something larger than life in their minds. Just like you haven’t been able to sleep a wink without thinking about him and his troublesome smile and sparkling eyes first. 

It’s as if he has you under some sort of spell, unable to move on but remaining steadfastly in place with your mind only revolving around him. You figured it was probably best to spend the coin he gave you and get it out of your system, so maybe you can get rid of the one physical thing that reminded you of his existence.

But here he is, in the flesh and very alive, and being tossed into the mud puddle you had been gazing into, spraying droplets of dirty water off in every direction. A cacophony of laughter rings out from the open door of the tavern– a barkeep angrily wipes his hands on his apron, snarls something at Eddie, and disappears back into the building, the door slamming shut behind him.

The town has erected a maypole in the square for the May Day celebration in just a few days. The marketplace is normally hectic during the festival. Shopkeepers will set up their stalls, the place will be decorated with garlands of flowers, and for days at a stretch one can hardly get their errands done for the amount of chaos going on in the place. That’s why you did your shopping today, rather than waiting for the festivities to begin.

You didn’t expect this.

You haven’t moved from your spot in front of the haberdasher’s. You don’t know if you should– you look this way and that, wondering if anyone is going to approach him, or if everyone else instinctively gives him a wide berth. The people on the street continue about their business like they haven’t seen him, like he isn’t there. You wonder if it’s some unseen force of nature that keeps them away. Does some magic spell exist to make him undetectable to anyone but you? Or are you just the only one stupid enough to get close?

He just sort of lays there in the mud, staring up at the sky. You assume he’s drunk. Why else would he have been thrown out of the tavern? Drinking them dry, getting unruly, starting fights… Yes, you should go on about your business. 

Your hand fists in your skirt, the color of barleycorn. Such a drab color when compared to his deep red, like the flow of blood from a wound. Just as you had feared, it draws you in like a moth to a flame. You lift your skirts and step carefully across the muddy town square, until your feet toe the edge of the puddle he lays in. 

“Do you… need help?” you ask when you peer down at him. From this angle, his eyelashes fan across his cheekbones in long arches, fluttering like fairy wings. 

“My Lovely Lady of the Creek!” He croons wistfully up at you when you pass into his field of vision. “We must stop meeting this way.” 

“Which way is that?”

“With me on my back in a bunch of water.” He smiles at you treacherously, in that way he does. Like he’s privy to a joke that you’re completely unaware of.

“Well, are you just going to lay there like a dead man in the road? Or would you like help?” Your hands are on your hips, the small basket for your purchases wiggling precariously on your wrist. 

“You really should be more discerning about who you offer to help,” he lectures as he heaves himself up to sit. Muddy water sloshes up towards your shoes, and you scamper back before they can get wet. “Lest I begin to get the wrong impression.” 

“I don’t recall ever offering you help before,” you point out. 

“Right,” Eddie says after a moment, his eyes sweeping along the road. He looks unsure, as if he doesn’t know what to ask for, if he wants anything at all. “You… could help me over to the well?” 

Your eyes follow his to the well in the center of the square. You shrug, and then brandish your hand at him. 

Eddie looks at it thoughtfully for a moment before placing his hand into yours. His hand engulfs yours in warmth, his long fingers stretching up and around your wrist. A flush bursts beneath your skin from where his touch hits, spreading up your arm and into your chest.

You’re going to catch fire, you’re sure of it.

Instead, you just help him to his feet, trying not to slip in the mud, yourself. Eddie staggers, sways back towards the porch of the tavern. You lunge forward to catch him before he can fall over again, and you snatch him around the waist without much thought. His arm plops down onto your shoulder, and your basket bats against his hip, the contents shifting inside.

You’re so close now. He smells like pine and whiskey, and his body is warm. So warm that you’re surprised he isn’t sick in bed. 

“How much did you drink?” you ask him, your voice choked as you heave him towards the well. You don’t want to think about his body pressed against yours, his arm hot around your shoulders. He’s looking down at you with an impassioned gaze that you don’t want to match. You fear that if you look up into his face, you will. 

“No more than usual,” he murmurs. His hand reaches out and grabs the stone ring of the well once you get him to it. He kneels on the step of it, starting to look a little green in the face. 

“You smell like the tavern floor,” you tell him frankly, raising your hand to push his hair away from his face. 

“Well, I was just laying in a bunch of piss and shit, so.” Eddie raises his head and gazes up at you, wide-eyed, when you press your hand to his forehead. 

“And you’re much too hot,” you assess, watching his eyes flutter at your appraisal. “Don’t you dare get sick in the well. I have to drink out of that.”

“I need water,” he grumbles, and pulls away from your hand. He tries to stand, and fails.

“Stay,” you tell him firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. Eddie pouts, watching as you place your basket beside him and step up to the well to fetch him the bucket yourself. 

Like a child who’s just been given a present, Eddie’s eyes fall to your basket. “What’s this?”

“My shopping,” you grunt with the effort of cranking the wheel to lift the bucket from the well. 

“Ooh– stockings?” 

You turn to glance at him, and see that he’s lifted the cloth from the basket to peek at the contents inside. He’s pinching your new stockings between his two fingers, pulling them out with a gleeful expression on his face.

You could kill him. “Put those back,” you hiss, letting go of the handle of the wheel. The crank spins backward, and down in the well, the bucket hits the water again with a loud, wet splash.

“Silk stockings, no less,” Eddie continues, ducking away from your swiping hand as he begins running the smooth hosiery over his knuckles. He seems to have gotten his second wind– no longer staggering, nor looking green in the face, he scampers around the well while you chase him. “Now how could a milkmaid afford such finery? It couldn’t be… no, I shant say–” 

“Give it to me now,” you snarl at him, rounding the well after him. You hadn’t wanted him to see them– hadn’t wanted anyone to see them. It’s not something that you could have gotten yourself, on your own pay. The Master or Mistress would assume that you’d stolen the money, and punish you for it. Obviously, any stranger seeing them would be improper.

And Eddie… Well, he knows exactly how you got your hands on them.

“Could it be… a silver coin?” He giggles like an impish little sprite, his feet working faster than his mind. “Given to you by a handsome, charming, mysterious stranger?” 

Eddie turns to look at you, holding the silken fabric up to his cheek to feel its softness. The sight of the gesture, him pressing his cheek against your undergarment, makes you see red. 

“You little demon–” You lunge for him, but he jerks away, barrel rolling across the opening of the well somehow without managing to fall in. He lands on the other side with a noisy plop, laughing hysterically, and you continue rounding the well to get to him. “Your hair is unsightly and you smell like dirt and you’re as vain as you are vexing and I would rather try to climb the maypole than call you charming!” 

“Well, you’re correct on most accounts,” he tells you, still trying to slow his laughter. Eddie lifts the cloth on your basket, still containing a bread roll and a new wooden comb, and begins carefully folding the silk stockings into a neat bundle. He tucks them back into the basket primly, while continuing, “But I would love to see you try to climb a maypole. Mine has been known to be good for such uses–”

“You’re despicable.” You snatch the basket away from him and step away from the well, turning your back to him without a goodbye. 

“Maybe so,” Eddie replies from behind you. “But you’re still curious, aren’t you?”

You stop. You shouldn’t, but you do, and you know it’s a mistake the minute you turn and see him already standing, not swaying in the slightest, and beginning to crank the wheel of the well to fetch his own water. 

With a scowl, you watch his arm work the wheel until the bucket rears up over the lip of the well, and he lifts it onto the edge. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, like he expected you to have walked away, and he smirks. “Ohhhh, she’s curious. You know what they say about curiosity.” 

Your skin prickles as you’re uncomfortably reminded of your last meeting with Eddie. “You’re much too fond of your idioms.”

“They’re idioms for a reason,” he replies frankly. With the water bucket steady on the edge of the well, he pinchest the front of his blouse and begins untucking the tails from his trousers. 

“What are you doing?” you snap, appalled, as he lifts the hem of his blouse to expose his belly.

He pauses, looking at you dubiously. “I have to wash my shirt.”

You bluster, “In front of the whole town?”

“Who’s looking?”

Who, indeed? You finally think to take in your surroundings, and you notice that the town square has cleared since Eddie was thrown out of the tavern. Aside from the occasional passerby, no one is lingering, and certainly no one is watching Eddie as he peels the muddy fabric from his skin. 

“You’re the only person in this town who deigns to speak to me. I thank you for that,” Eddie says, not unkindly. “But you should know that it makes you a rose among thorns. That isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

“How is that not a good thing?” you ask, feeling his eyes rake over you just before he pulls his shirt over his head. You see a flash of pale skin, and avert your eyes so swiftly it nearly makes you dizzy.

“Roses tend to be picked,” he tells you simply, as if it’s obvious. “Careful who you show your colors to.”

Your face heats against your will, while your eyes remain locked on the building across the way and not on him. At least, not until your curiosity wins out, and you steal a glance at him. 

Eddie dunks his dirty blouse in the bucket, splashing water down onto the stone step at the base of the well. The muscles of his arms flex with the work, and his hair spills over pale shoulders, rosy at the collarbones. He has pictures drawn on his skin with black ink– mythical creatures you learned about as a child, which denote power and magic. Surrounding the images on his skin are scars, old enough that they’ve gone pale, but their raised appearance indicates that he’s seen his fair share of danger. Hair trails down his chest and to  the curve of his stomach, then disappears beneath the line of his trousers. Your eyes trace the trail of it, lingering on his waistband as you wonder how far down it goes. 

He must feel your eyes on him, because he glances up at you. You immediately rip your eyes away, but it’s too late. He’s already seen you looking– seen you staring. 

Eddie grins, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “If it pleases you to look, then look.”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t looking,” you say, with more than a hint of pride, turning your nose up a bit for good measure. 

“Of course,” Eddie muses, a wicked smirk still on his face. “And neither was I.” 

He meets your eye with a heated gaze that makes goosebumps break out across your skin. His eyes are two black coals, burning at you from just a few feet away. They slowly move up and down your body, until he sets his jaw and turns back to the bucket. He lifts the red blouse from the water and wrings it out, casting droplets of water down his forearms.

You watch them travel along his pale skin, your eyes tracing the blue veins and sinewy muscles of his arms. And that’s when you notice it– the cloth tied around his wrist.

It’s pale pink. It has a slight brocade pattern to the weave. It’s one that your Mistress had no use of, and when she decided she didn’t want the cloth for anything, you took and dyed it yourself with rose petals, and turned it into a blanket for your bed.

It’s the same cloth that you tied to the injured leg of the wolf in your dream, all those weeks ago. But it wasn’t a dream, or it couldn’t have been– the end of that very same pink blanket is still frayed from the tear of the fabric.

“Where did you get that?” you ask him sharply, marching forward. He startles, drawing back just a bit, his eyes glancing you up and down in alarm.

“Get what?” he says coolly, though his manner doesn’t reflect his tone. He’s backing away from you, holding up his hands like you mean to attack.

“This.” Far too bold for your own good, you snatch his wrist in your hand. Eddie gazes down his nose at you as you yank his wrist up near your face, twisting until the pink brocade glints in the overcast light of late April. “Where did you get this cloth?” 

“In the woods,” he says simply. 

“This is from my bed,” you hiss at him, your eyes narrowing as your hand tightens on his arm. Beneath his overheated skin, his pulse pounds against your fingers. You feel it like the beating of a thousand drums. “I don’t believe you. Where did you get it?” 

“I told you,” Eddie repeats slowly. “I found it hanging from a tree. Thought it was pretty, so I kept it.” His face betrays no emotion now, almost strategically so. Where alarm once was, there is nothing. No hint of hesitance, or mischief, or cunning. Just a blank slate that you have no way of reading. 

Your eyes flick between his face and his arm, trying to connect the dots. That’s when you notice the mark as well– among the otherwise pale, older scars that riddle his torso and arms is a long, jagged gash on his bicep. It arcs across his skin and appears to have been from a deep wound. It’s raised over and scarred, but still bright in color. New.

You’re wondering if your mind is playing tricks on you. It’s improbable that the scar on his arm is the one you patched on the wolf a month ago. You refuse to believe such things; you don’t believe in wolf-men, in fairytales, in silly superstitions.

You release his arm. You still don’t believe him– not when he so quickly went from being startled, to suddenly showing no emotion at all. You don’t trust him in the slightest. It seems to you like he’s hiding something, but you don’t know what. You don’t believe he’s anything other than a man. You can’t honestly say that you believe he’s evil, or that he means you harm, but you still wouldn’t lay your life down to fend for his honor.

And that cloth. You would bet your life that the fabric wrapped around his wrist came from your bed, dyed by your own hand, tied around the wounded leg of a wolf on the last full moon. But you can’t dispute that what he says is true. So you step back, and you fix him with a steely-eyed gaze that you know would make even the roughest of men shake in their boots.

“Good day, Mr. Munson,” you say, and he looks surprised that you even remembered his name. “I hope that I never see you again.”

“Making a wish like that is unwise,” he replies mildly, turning back to the bucket that he has perched on the rim of the well. “Unless you have a coin to toss in the well for it. Silver, maybe?” 

Your cheeks burn hot, and you turn away from him. He infuriates you so much. You can’t recall a time when a man affected you so badly. 

“Right. Because you spent it,” he observes, taking your silence as a quiet relent. “I’ll sleep well knowing that my coin was spent on a pair of beautiful stockings. Excellent craftsmanship, by the way. The weave is immaculate. Feels like spun gold.”

“Go to Hell,” you mutter, finally turning away from him, for good this time. 

“As long as I know you’ll think of me when you wear them,” he tells you as you walk away, “I’ll die a happy man.”

You pause. For a moment, you think of turning back to him, telling him to shove that exact thought down his stupidly pretty gullet. But you don’t. Thankfully, you have the reserve and the self respect to set your shoulders and leave him there, rinsing his soiled blouse there on the edge of the well.

You still didn’t ask him how he got a blouse so fine. You doubt that he would tell you the truth even if you did. All you know is that he stays with you, haunting you, rolling through your mind the way he rolled across the mouth of the well, until your hand lands on the gate to your Master’s property.

You can’t afford to have him occupying your thoughts. You can’t afford to be so distracted– you don’t even want to think about what may happen if the Master learns that you’re on your way to being smitten with someone. Someone young and beautiful and, from what you can tell, not running a farm with indentured servants on it.

And when exactly did you go from wanting him to disappear into the woods, to being smitten with him?

On May Eve, you get just enough of your chores done for the Mistress to not find any excuse for you not to attend the festivities. With your hands tight on a woven basket, you set off with a group of young milkmaids from down the lane, bearing torches, to collect flowers from the meadows and woods. 

Bringing in the May is one of your favorite customs, mostly because it’s practiced by the young people of the town. You don’t have to worry about being watched by the town elders. There’s an air of being chosen by someone; the more popular girls in town get flowers laid on their doorsteps in abundance. You’ve never been left flowers, but each year you hold out hope that someone, anyone, will leave them for you. A gesture– you’re wanted. 

There’s music in the air. Groups of young men and women laugh and dance, and the meadows are dotted with the little blooms of fire at the ends of torches as flowers are gathered. You’ve already indulged in a certain amount of floral spring wine and honey cakes, lulling you into a sweetly tipsy, giggly mood. There’s magic in the air– you can taste it in the humidity, the moonshine, the salt of sweat and earth.

“There aren’t enough flowers in the meadow this year,” one of the girls in your group complains, tromping through the high grass. 

“This isn’t the only meadow in Havensfield, Victoria,” says another. 

“I’ve seen more growing by the trees,” you offer, holding out your basket for one girl to toss a few measly primrose blooms in.

The other girls stop. You look around in the low torchlight at the appalled expressions on their faces. 

“You can’t just… go into the woods,” the one named Victoria objects. “There’s… there’s fairies. And wolf-men.” 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes while the other girls balk. “You can’t honestly tell me that you believe those old wive’s tales. You know the elders only tell those stories to keep us from going into the woods to fuck.” 

A few snickers rise up with the smoke from the torch. “It’s true, I saw Katherine Plack sneaking through the woods with Scotty Raker two nights ago,” says a short girl beside Victoria, nodding sagely.

“And what were you doing in the woods, Hyacinth?” the girl holding the torch says, slugging Hyacinth on the shoulder. 

The girls dissolve into laughter, while you suck on your lower lip and gaze toward the trees. It can’t be that dangerous, if Eddie claims to come from in there… somewhere. You imagine a cozy little cottage in the woods with a well beside it, tucked away, hidden from town. You imagine him chopping the wood to make it, himself. You imagine his lean frame and strong hands holding an ax, the drawings on his skin highlighted in the filtered sun through the trees as he swings the blade–

“I’m going to go see,” you announce abruptly, your voice nearly cracking. You’re nodding to yourself, looking like an idiot while you fumble to pick the basket up and set it on your hip. “Yep. That’s what I'm going to do. You all can stay here if you want.” 

“But, there’s no light,” Victoria insists, pulling her hair back away from her face with a condescending expression.

“Moon’s almost full, I can see just fine,” you snap back. Honestly, what does it matter to her if you go into the woods? “I’ll be back.”

Hyacinth calls something about “girding your loins” after you, but you’re too far away to really pay it any mind. The grass grows taller by the trees, and you hop over the creek into a wide bed of bright yellow marigolds. They wiggle in the slight spring breeze, lit with just enough moonshine for their color to show even in the dark.

“Beat that, Victoria,” you mumble as you set the basket on the ground. Methodically, you begin picking them, choosing the biggest blooms, the ones with the most immaculate petals. You’ll decorate your small cabin with them, and fashion garlands for the town square with the rest. 

As you wander over to another bed to collect some more blooms, you hear singing, following the tune being played by the pan flute across the meadow. It’s an old folk song that most of the people in town would know, and you hum along mindlessly as you pick the flowers at your knees. 

“As I was a-walking to take the fresh air, The flowers all blooming and gay, I heard a young damsel so sweetly a-singing, Her cheeks like the flowers in May.” 

It’s a young man’s voice, coming from somewhere in the trees, low and rich, and quiet enough that you don’t think it’s meant to be heard by anyone else across the meadow. Tipsy, you smile to yourself, not thinking to look for the source of the voice, but just appreciating the sound as it travels on the breeze.

“Said I, ‘Pretty maiden, and how came you here, In the meadows this morning, so soon?’ The maid she replied, ‘Why, to gather some May, For the trees they are all in full bloom.’”

As your fingers stroke along soft flower petals, humming along under your breath, you glance over your shoulder towards the meadow, where flaming torches dance like woodland spirits in the night. Laughter follows the music and the raucous cheering of the other groups of May-goers, dancing and collecting their own greenery and flowers.

The rich, velvety voice filters through the trees, ever quieter, but even closer than before. You look up just in time to see the source of the voice move just beyond the treeline, and then he appears, leaning against the trunk of a great pine, close enough that you can see the deep wine red of his blouse, and the wicked smirk on his lips.

“I said, ‘Pretty maiden, shall I go with you Through the meadows to gather some May?’ ‘Oh no, sir,’ she said, ‘I would rather refuse, For I fear you would lead me astray.’”

You could swear that Eddie’s eyes glow nearly red at you in the moonlight, his teeth sharper than you’ve ever seen them as he grins at you. The lace at his collar is untied, disheveled, falling open to reveal one of the inked pictures on his skin and his dark chest hair. 

“Climb any maypoles today, princess?” he asks you after a moment of your staring at him, like you’ve seen a ghost.

The question sets your skin aflame. You sit back on your heels, giving him a caustic expression, despite the way your heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s the eve of May, your lurid mind thinks, tracing his outline among the trees. Anything could happen. 

“I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again, Mr. Munson,” you retort, imagining that he won’t be affected by your words in the slightest.

He isn’t. “Ah-ah, you said you hoped that you wouldn’t. But you didn’t toss a coin in the well, therefore, your wish was never going to be granted. Rules of nature, sweetheart.” He wags a finger at you. “And enough with that ‘Mr. Munson’ business. You remember my name, don’t you?” 

“Eddie,” you say quietly, not sure why you feel so shy when you do. Probably because, up until now, you’ve been firm in your false belief that you’d never give him the time of day. It seems it all depends on whether or not you’ve seen him shirtless, first.

“Good girl. I knew you were paying attention.” Eddie smirks at you then, sowing the seeds of your detriment right there. He stands poised, and then bows low as he says, “So, pretty maiden, shall I go with you through the meadows to gather some May?”

You consider quoting the song right back to him, but you figure that it’s probably what he expects you to do. So instead, you sigh and shrug your shoulder at him. “As long as you promise not to crush them in your big meaty hands.” 

Eddie’s mouth drops open in shock, an impressed smile curling his mouth up at the corners. He barks a laugh. “That’s not how the song goes.” 

“Well, the song ends with them kissing and then getting married in the morning,” you point out, with a roll of your eyes. “So, forgive me for not adhering to the lyrics.”

“Also, my hands are not meaty.” He smirks at you ruefully, his face half bathed in moonlight. He leans towards you, “I’ll tell you what is, though–”

“If you’re about to mention your maypole again, I’m leaving,” you snap, glaring at him in the dark. He snickers, but says nothing, instead preferring to start gathering marigolds. “Just how did you manage to find me again, anyways? There are hundreds of people wandering the meadows tonight. How is it that you keep managing to run into me and no one else?”

“Oh, I can sniff you out in a heartbeat, princess. It’s one of my many talents.” The flowers are dwarfed by his hands– his long fingers pinch the stems delicately, offset by the size of the silver rings he wears on them. You admire them, watching them glint in the moonlight, the tendons in his wrist flexing and his skin pulling tight over veins and knuckles. The heavy metal clicks as he works. You’re about to comment on them, when you watch what said fingers are doing with the flowers.

He takes one, and loops the stem around another, creating a loose knot that lets the tails sit alongside each other. He repeats the process slowly, building a chain of bright marigold blooms, while he hums idly and shoots you a heavy look from beneath his lashes. “Ah. So you’re not afraid to look, now. That’s good to know.” 

You tear your eyes away. The tips of your ears burn with embarrassment at having been caught staring, yet again. “Have you any shame?” 

“Not a hair of it.” 

Eddie holds up a finished crown of flowers, grinning at you. He places the circlet of blooms on your head, and as he draws back, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“And I crowned her my Queen of sweet May,” he sings at you, more of a coo than truly carrying a tune. “The most beautiful one in all the land, of course.”

“From princess to queen,” you muse, trying not to show how quickly your heart is melting. “I’m sure you must think that endears you to me.”

“I’d like to think so,” Eddie admits, leaning ever closer to you. You can see the reflection of the moon in his eyes, glinting vaguely red– you can smell honeyed wine on his breath. His voice drops even lower in register, until it’s just barely above a whisper. “I hope so. Tell me I’m wrong, sweetheart.” 

“I think,” you murmur just as quietly, letting your eyes drop indulgently to his parted lips. They’re so plush and inviting, they’re right there. You need only let yourself bend an inch and you could kiss him. You breathe in, “I think…”

Your hand falls softly to the basket of flowers beside you.

“I think your hands are egregiously meaty.”

You lift a handful of marigolds and smash them into his mouth, making him splutter and fall backwards. You cackle, flinging yourself in the opposite direction, scrambling up to run away. You swear you got some of them in his mouth; you can hear him coughing and spitting them at the same time as he laughs.

“I’ll get you for that!” You can hear him leaping up to chase you, and the prospect makes your heart pound in your chest, your blood rushing hot beneath your skin. You’re sure that it will be easy for him to catch you– you’re hoping for it, really.

You duck between the pines and into the trees. “Come sniff me out then, if you must!” 

You hear his laugh from behind you, almost sounding dark and menacing. Your hair stands on end, but your feet carry you through the trees, running even though you feel as though you’ve been struck by lightning. 

His feet pound the earth behind you, his laughter dancing on the breeze and combining with the music from the meadow. Beyond the trees, your contemporaries dance and make merry with the coming of summer. Here, in the woods, you run from some indeterminate end– one that you have an inkling of, like the barest traces of a memory, but you can’t quite make it out yet. 

Eddie’s hands snatch you by the waist, and you yelp. Heat bursts beneath your skin where he touches you through your bodice, whirling you around until your back hits the trunk of a tree. 

Your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding, chest heaving. Eddie is so close, and the air around you buzzes with energy and magic, as if the very trees themselves were singing. 

“You little minx,” Eddie muses, his voice rumbling low like thunder. “Just need me to chase you, is that it?” His eyes truly do shine red, you don’t think you’re imagining it– each time they catch the light of the moon, or a torch burning far off in the meadow, you see a glimpse of that subtle iridescent red of a forest creature in the dark glinting back at you. 

“I think you’re a spirit,” you whisper, the words light and airy in your throat as you try to regain your breath. “I think you’re one of the Fey. You can’t be real.”

Eddie has you caged in against the tree– one hand on the trunk beside your head, one on your hip. You don’t want to be anywhere else. “Oh, I’m very real, sweetheart. Shall I show you how much?”

His forefinger traces the line of your cheekbone, down the side of your face, to your jaw. You want it bad. You want him and anything he’ll give you– throw you to the ground, take you as prey, the lot of it. You won’t be married in the morning, but tonight all things are possible. 

You turn your face and drag your lips across his knuckles, half-gone in your desire. You barely even register the look on his face; eyes wide, lips parted in awe, like he’s never seen anything like you before. Like you confound him as much as he confounds you. A match made in heaven. 

Eddie catches your jaw in his fingertips, holding you like you’re made of glass, and he crashes down into you. He tastes of cherry wine, as rich and deep as the color of his blouse, which you fist in your hand to tug him closer. 

“Please,” you whisper against his lips. It falls like a sigh into his mouth, and his hand tightens on your hip momentarily before gathering your skirts. The fabric flutters as he pulls at them, tugging them up just enough to disappear beneath the hem. 

Your breath quickens. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you think, Oh fuck, this is really happening. 

Eddie’s finger’s pause on the breadth of your thigh, just above your knee. His forefinger strokes downward, passing over your garter strip and feeling the weave of the silk before he cracks a self-satisfied smirk at you. 

“Nice stockings. Get them recently?”

Your eyes narrow with false gravity, your nose scrunching. “I’ll kill you.”

His smirk stretches into a grin, and he scoffs a little laugh that flutters across your lips. It feels like a kiss. “Dying between the legs of my beautiful Queen of May sounds like a good way to go, actually.”

His hand drags hotly up your outer thigh, and the touch nearly burns you to your core. Eddie’s thumb presses against the skin just at the juncture of your leg, and you press your lips together to bite back a moan from coming out. Everything between your legs is tense, and pulsing, and turning feverish the longer he just pets at your skin and tugs your leg up to rest against his hip. 

His fingertips dig into the curve of your ass and the moan escapes you; high pitched, needy, embarrassing. You’re hot all over and you feel like you might die if he doesn’t touch you– you have a mind to tell him so, too, when Eddie dips his head and bites at your earlobe. 

He dips his finger between your folds, tracing one forefinger up the seam of your cunt, and you swear you could nearly scream. Flesh that is too hot and too sensitive bursts alive with feeling. His finger is drenched, your legs shake just from one touch. Is this what it always feels like?

“Oh, baby,” he coos as you whimper into his neck. His lips move slowly along your skin. Each move of his finger, just teasing you gently, dragging so slowly over your clit that your back arches and you keen long and high. “That’s it. This is what you needed, isn’t it?” 

You let out a pitiful squeak, nodding your head like you may explode rather than answer. He strokes you firmly and then gently, watching your face, studying your expressions. It’s so much and it’s not enough, not nearly enough to settle the throbbing in your core. 

“Please…” It’s the only thing you can come up with, the word bubbling up out of your throat before you can make it make sense. “Please.”

“‘Please’ what?” Eddie tilts his head. His pale skin nearly glows in the moonlight, the red in his eyes shining for a split second. “Please… here?”

His finger circles your entrance, prodding but never quite dipping in all the way. It’s just enough to make you see stars, just enough to turn you nearly insane. 

“Oh my God,” you cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders and gripping at his neck. 

Eddie hums, letting you feel the gentle touch for a few more seconds before it’s gone. You could cry. There are tears in your eyes– you could sob, throw a tantrum. You don’t think it would make him change his mind either way.

“My hands are too big, though, aren’t they?” Eddie shakes his head, mirroring your pout in a condescending manner that makes you want to smack him. Then he cracks a smirk, and you know he’s just being mean. “Mhm. Big and meaty. Too much for a sweet little thing like you. I wouldn’t want to break–”

You snatch his wrist through your skirts and bring his hand back between your legs. No preamble, no begging– this time he hisses, and you sigh with relief as you grind down onto not just his fingers, but his entire hand. 

“You’re not disappearing on me this time, Munson,” you nearly growl at him. Your tongue lavishes his skin, his long neck providing just the right amount of area for you to indulge in. 

“I would have stayed,” he gasps out when your teeth find a particularly tender spot under his jaw. “I’d have stayed if I knew you wanted me to.”

“I want you to,” you say, and you wonder if you’ll regret it in the morning. But the morning seems so far away right now, and his hand feels so good between your legs, and you don’t quite understand how you could regret anything that makes him look at you like that.

“Don’t– You can’t talk to me like that,” he whispers, and his eyes shine like rubies in the night as he gazes at you in awe. “You should know better than that.”

You do know better. But still, you tell him, “Stay,” and it’s like a dam has been broken. You know that you’ll never get rid of him now, and you don’t really want to. You want him to make a home in your chest, right against your heart. You want him to always touch you like this. You want him to always look at you with that same reverent gaze, like he’s just looked upon divinity.

Eddie crowds between your legs and his hand leaves you, but his thigh remains in its place. His leg presses tight to your core, the rough fabric of his trousers not nearly as warm as the touch of his hand, but just as erotic. You rock forward mindlessly against his thigh as he takes your face in his hands– one wet with your arousal– and kisses you breathless. His lips move over yours softly, and then passionately, until you take all that passion and feed it back into him twice over.

You lose track of time. The stroke of his tongue against yours, your hands in his hair, his firm thigh between your legs, all brings you to the edge of oblivion. You squirm against him and he chuckles against your lips. He knows what you want. He’ll give it to you, you know it, you know that he will–

And then a twig snaps. Someone calls your name just through the trees, and then, fucking Victoria breaks through the bushes just in time to see you jump and squeal, having to clutch at Eddie’s shoulders to keep from falling over when he spins around to see who intruded on your precious moment.

“OH! I’m so sorry– I thought–” Victoria fiddles with a long lock of her hair, twisting it idly before tossing it over her shoulder. You’re sure you look disheveled, with Eddie’s crown of marigolds slowly unweaving itself in your hair. It’s obvious to her what you’d been doing– Her eyes rake up and down Eddie’s frame, standing halfway in front of you like a shield, his chest heaving, a dark spot on his trousers where his thigh had been pressed between your legs. “Well, you said you were going to be back, and we thought you’d gone missing…”

“I was in the middle of doing something,” you tell her bluntly.

“Understatement,” Eddie mutters under his breath, and you knock your elbow against his back.

You ignore him. “I thought you didn’t want to go into the woods?”

“Well, that was before we thought you… disappeared.” Victoria looks from you to Eddie. “Who’s this?”

“Something.” Eddie grins at her, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight breaking through the trees. “Sorry I stole her away from you. We were actually just having a fascinating conversation about when it’s appropriate to disappear– you could join us if you want?” 

Eddie glances over his shoulder at you, and smirks a bit at the expression of complete and utter envy on your face. You don’t want anyone to join. You don’t want to share him. You want him all to yourself. You want to grow on him like ivy until no one can see him but you. You want to hold him close to your chest and keep him there for eternity, and then some. 

“Oh, no, I–” Victoria blushes. She half-turns, like she wants to run away from the conversation entirely. “I just wanted to let you know that we’ve collected all the flowers we need, so… we’re going back to town. You can stay… if you want.”

You want to throw a fit.

She ducks back into the bushes quickly. Eddie is quiet for a moment, listening to her footsteps through the grass, before he turns to you. 

“You were jealous,” he teases, leaning towards you with that stupid self-aggrandizing grin.

Your face grows hot with anger and embarrassment. “You did that on purpose.” You shove him bodily, so that he stumbles a bit to the side, and he snickers. “I can’t believe you. She could have said yes to that.”

“Nah, she was too bashful. I knew she wasn’t gonna take me up on the offer. She wandered into something she wasn’t ready for.” Eddie leans up against a tree, smiling at you with a more resigned expression now. He looks you over, like he wants to burn the image of your kiss-bitten lips and rumpled dress into his memory. After a moment, he meets your eye again. “You should go. Get some sleep before the festival tomorrow.”

“But I–” You flounder. You just made so much progress, and now you’re just back where you began. You shouldn’t be proud about it now– not after he nearly took you to pieces with a single touch. Not when you can still feel the sharp edge of an orgasm pressing at your core, wanting to force its way out but with no way to get there now, and every look at him makes it press that much harder. “You know what– I don’t even know what I expected.” 

You march off towards the tree line. You have to find your fucking flower basket. You have to go and make garlands and slap together some bouquets for the festival tomorrow. You have to pretend like you aren’t dying inside from the disappointment.

“Princess.” You turn to him. He isn’t smiling anymore, he just looks disappointed as well. He glances up at the moon, and then back to you. “It’s a full moon tomorrow. Best not to go near the woods, okay?”

“Don’t tell me you believe in those stupid wolf-man stories, too,” you snap, beyond aggravated.

“Just promise me,” Eddie bites back, his eyes shining dangerously in the moonlight. “Promise me that you’ll stay in town. Don’t come near the woods. Drink, be merry, have a good time.”

“And you?” You feel a bit humiliated and desperate, vying for his time and attention– but you want it. You want it, you want him, more than anything, but you have a feeling you won’t be getting what you want, yet again. “What about you?” 

“I’ll find you,” he says firmly, and then lowers his eyes. Softly, he amends, “I’ll always come back to you.”

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me (part 3)- matt sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3

summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he finds out your his mate.

contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), smut (not in this part)

a/n: a short chapter but the next ones a biggie. love yall and thank you so much for the support

——————————————————————————

when i wake up, i’m strapped to a bed frame. i struggle against the restraints but all that comes out of it is another dizzy spell.

“hey, your awake” i whip my head around to see two blue eyes staring back at me. fear shoots into my chest again, as i stare at matt’s brother, chris, in front of me. if matts not human, then i bet he’s not either.

“get away from me” my voice shakes and i gear my legs up to be ready to kick if necessary. “i know matt scared you pretty bad yesterday, but i promise, no ones going to hurt you here.” he comes and sits on the side of the bed, placing his hand on my knee gently

chris and i have only ever had one class together and it was in our sophomore year, but i always thought highly of him. he was nice and funny, unlike his brother. i may have even had a crush on him, if i had allowed myself to. the version of him i knew before, overides my fear of what he is and as he strokes my knee some of my fear goes away. but then all of a sudden, anger spikes within me that somehow doesn’t feel like my own. chris’ hand that was once comforting felt like a hot clothing iron on my skin. i wince and chris takes his hand off me immediately. instead, he looks towards the doorway apprehensively.

in the doorway, is none other than the matt sturniolo, and he looks furious.

fear and another feeling i can’t put my finger on fills me at the sight of him. i take a deep breath to try and calm myself down. at least he looks like he’s back to normal, no more red eyes and black veins.

“hey, she was freaking out, i was only trying to help. it’s not like that, i swear.” chris puts his arms up defending himself and trying to ease matts anger.

“whatever, get out” he snarls and i wince at the sound. chris scrambles out the room and matt marches up to me, sitting in the exact spot chris was moments before. unlike chris’ gentle touch, matt grabs my thigh roughly and possesively. even though the move was aggressive, when i feel his touch my body relaxes and my thighs clench together, hard. why is this turning me on and why did i stop panicking all of a sudden? his presence and touch should do nothing but scare me after everything he’s done. after everything i’ve seen.

“there you go” he coos darkly. “just relax, i have a lot of shit to tell you.” he says staring into my eyes intensely. the stare sends a heat surging through my body and i feel myself starting to get wet. if i could punch myself in the face i would. “get to it, make it quick.” i snip.

“have it your way then, i was gonna take it slow but i guess not.” he shrugs. “i’m a vampire and your my mate. thats why i went ape shit yesterday. thanks for listening to my ted talk.” he deadpans and cocks his head to the side.

even though it sounded like it was a joke, we both knew it wasn’t. my mind didn’t want to believe it, but my body knew it was true. matt is a vampire, and i am his mate.

“how? how am i your mate? whatever the fuck that is!” my voice raises in anger. did he pick me? maybe, to just to fuck around with me and tie me into all his weird vampire shit. did he really hate me that much?

“what, you think i know?!” he matches my angry tone before taking a breath, bringing his other hand up to rub his temple. “trust me, i have no idea sweetheart. if it were my choice, i’d have anyone but you. but for now, your stuck with me” he rolls his eyes. “and vice versa” he mutters.

his hand is still gripping my thigh and not a fiber of my being wants him to move it, even with all the arguing. and judging by the way he’s looking at me now, it looks like he’s stopping himself from doing more. i feel myself getting annoyed with myself for wanting him to do whatever he pleased and more.

“stop getting annoyed” he snaps. “its just the mating bond making us react to each other this way. nothing you can do about it” matt breathes in deeply and a shudder racks through him.

“what was that?” i ask weirded out by the almost animalistic behavior. “you just smell really good to me right now. i couldn’t help myself” he breathes out, eyes darkening slightly.

this man could really eat me alive if he wanted too. i shiver at the thought, but then my mind reels again. how did he know i was annoyed??.

“how did you know? that i was annoyed, i mean” you say bewildered by what being mated might entail. “now that you’re mine, i can feel your emotions almost like their my own. you can do it too, but humans aren’t as good at pin pointing it as we are.” he smirks like being a whole monster is something to be proud of and being human is childs play.

that would explain the random surge of anger earlier with chris. another wave of annoyance courses through me. he’s sooo possessive already. his words from yesterday rings through my head.

“because you’re mine.”

matts voice breaks through my silence. “but don’t worry this is all temporary” he smiles to himself. “i know a girl, and im pretty sure she can get rid of this” he gestures between the both of us. i can’t help the smile that rips through me at the good news.

“then what are we waiting for” i say impatiently.

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@cindylcuwho

@mattslolita

[loveforeren]

Could you do Jjk men see b!ack reader take her weave out for the first time

JJK men seeing black!fem reader take her weave out for the first time.

I decided to write this one for shits and giggles and at the end I did the text version 🫡 hope you enjoy lovely and sorry for any spelling mistakes it's 4:25 where I'm at and I had work today.

Gojo

This was the first time Gojo had ever dated a black girl. He wasn't familiar with it so when you asked him to come over while you did your hair he obliged.

"Y/N!! I'm here!!" He said as he scrambled into your apartment. He had also brought you some food.

"I'm in my room,Toru!" You yelled back.

Gojo walked into your room and set the bag down. Before turning to you, a startled expression etched his face.

"Your hair?!" He yelled in shock.

"What...about it?" You asked confused.

"It's falling out?! Why didn't you tell me?! Did that hair stylist you go to mess up your hair?!" He asked genuinely shocked and worried as he picked up the hair that did not know was weave from your braids.

"Toru! Calm downn it's not my hair" you laugh.

"Huh..?" He asked shocked.

You spent the next hour explaining how your hair is done as you also showed him how to take out your braids.

Nanami

Nanami was very well educated in your hair. I mean he paid for it how couldn't he. But he's never seen you taken it off until today.

"Ughh this stupid ass hair." You groan.

"What's wrong my love?" He asked rubbing your thigh.

"It's not cooperating.." you whine.

"Oh I'm sorry my l-" before Nanami could finish his sentence the words "fuck this." Left you mouth.

He watched as you took off your lace front in one quick swift motion. He tried to hide the expression on his face as you ripped it off. He's never seen you take off the wig nor take out braids so this was a first for him. He watched at you threw the now separate wig away from you on the end of the bed.

You look at him and begin to laugh.

"Did that scare ya, Nami?" You giggle.

"What...no...no love.." he said looking away.

Getou

Getou and you had just started dating and you'd invited him over. He knocked on the door and you unlocked it using the security website you had linked to your door. He opened the door and walked in. He saw a little hair on the floor and picked it up in shock.

"Y/N? are you okay?!" He asked loudly.

"Yeaa!! I'm in the living room!" You yelled back.

He came into the room and looked shocked.

"Your hair..?" He asked confused.

"Oh? Yea I hadda take it out!" You said untwisting your hair.

"Take it out?" He said tilting his head like a confused puppy.

"Suguru...sweetie did you think this was my real hair" you asked lightly.

"Yes..?" He said, kind of red.

You laughed as you had to explain what you did every time you went to your friend Nene's house with with a new hairstyle.

Toji

Toji decided to pay you and unexpected visit (he wanted to eat your food). He walked in the house with a hum as he saw hair in the trash..? He looked at the trash confused he picked the hair up with 2 fingers holding it away from him in confusion. He put it back in the trash bought a snack and went into your room to see you taking out your goddess braids. His mouth hung open.

"Uh...Y/N" He said.

"Hii toji!" You said tossing the hair into the bag you had.

"Hair...? Where..? Why..? Uhh" He said.

"I'm taking it out Toji, no I'm not balding, that was never my real hair, I told you this, and my hair isn't this short it's shrinkage which means my curls are so tight my hair looks shorter." You said quickly.

"Ohhhh, you know I'd still fuck you if you were bald-headed" He said with a grin.

"Gee thank you, baby." You said sarcasm lacing your voice.

Choso

Choso had fallen asleep when he woke up to you taking out your hair. He shrieked and it was almost... girl-like.

"Your hair!!" He yelled.

"Baby...it's my weave..You've seen my natural hair." You said gently.

"Oh yea...well..uh..that was scary still I thought your hair was falling out from when I fed you that tracking device" he said.

"YOU WHAT-"

Sukuna

Sukuna had walked into the bathroom to use it while you did your hair.

"What the fuck." He said eyes wide.

"Hmm..? I'm taking off my hair." You said.

"Humans can just peel...their hair off like skin to reveal a new layer...?" He asked confused.

"WHAT?" You ask.

"The hair.." he said about the wig you had just took off.

"Sukuna...no...no..that's no..oh my God what am I gonna do wit you" you laugh.

Text versions <3

[festivalsofmargot]

Pretty Thoughts {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Sebastian is down bad for you, my dear reader. But a lot of overthinking on your part makes you blind to it. So, his only option is to keep chasing after you. Takes place after MC meets Anne and before Seb’s final mission. Your Hogwarts house is up to you.

Word Count: ~2700

Warnings: Kissing, Teen Angst

Author’s Note: This is an (un)official Part 2 to Pining in Potions Class. I like writing one shots that could go together if you’d like, but you definitely don’t need to read any other stories to know what’s going on. I love the idea of a clingy Sebastian. Teens finding their first love can feel amazing but they also don’t know how to act. All they know is they want to be with that person at all times.

Songs (if interested):

Kill the Director - The Wombats

Whatever You Like - Single Version - Anya Marina Cover

Wallpaper - Matt Watson

How Long - TALK

You had found Sebastian around you a lot more lately, not that you minded. You enjoyed it, actually. But at the same time, it kept you on edge. Though you hadn’t known the Slytherin for long, this behavior seemed very out of the ordinary for him. When you were first getting to know him, he would be brief and to the point with you, then he was off. He was always prioritizing practicing new spells in the undercroft or going over every book he could get his hands on from the restricted section. 

At first, you thought maybe he had a falling out with Ominis, but then you saw them walking into the dining hall seemingly fine with each other. And then, you made yourself paranoid it had something to do with Anne’s health. But to your relief, he updated you on something funny she wrote in her latest letter to him.

Your early conversations mainly consisted of discussing the things he had found in Salazar Slytherin’s spell book, but that was only a small portion of the time these days. More often than not, the two of you weren’t saying anything at all. He was just there with you. Whether it be studying, laying in the grass and basking in the sun, or sitting with you at breakfast going over some last minute homework. 

He was getting dangerously close to you lately too. He might not have thought anything of it. But you on the other hand? Your mind went reeling. Every time you were together, he would do something simple that made your stomach dance with butterflies. He’d brush your fingers with his, lay his head on your lap while you laid in the grass, and touch his shoulder against yours whenever you sat together in the dining hall.

It was your final class of the day, and you were barely paying attention, your mind thinking back on those light touches you and Sebastian shared. Looking up from your notes to sneak a glance at him, you found he was already staring back at you. The both of you quickly averted your eyes.

With Professor Hecat’s dismissal, all the students made their way out of the classroom. Sebastian caught up to your side.

“Have to cancel our library session. I need to meet with Ominis. Can I still try to see you later?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes, as if he needed you to confirm he could, in fact, see you later.

“O-Of course, Sebastian. I’ll probably be in the library for the rest of the night if you need me.”

He gave you a small smile and nod of his head. He took a few steps backwards to leave, keeping his eyes on you a moment longer, then he turned and went on his way.

- 

Rubbing at your eyes, you were relieved to be nearly done with all of your homework. It was the weekend now, you didn’t need to worry about finishing it all that night, but Sebastian hadn’t come to see you yet. So you stayed a bit longer than anticipated. It was getting late and everyone was gone except for you and Madam Scribner at her desk at the library entrance. 

You’d feel bad if Sebastian showed up and you weren’t there to at least tell him you were done and heading to bed. But if you were too tired, you were too tired. Sebastian wouldn’t be crushed if he turned up and you were gone... right?

You shook the thought from your head and rubbed at your blushing cheeks with the back of your hand. Sebastian doesn’t feel that way about you, he needs to focus on helping his sister. If he wants anything more, he’ll tell you. But then you began thinking about all his small touches again, pulling yourself back into the fantasy.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you knew you needed a distraction. You decided to get up from your table and explore the shelves for another book. Nothing education related, there had to be something in this humungous library that was just meant for enjoyment. Some fictional story to take your mind off of everything.

Aha! You believed you found just the book. You couldn’t quite tell from the cover, but the title was “My Beloved”. That sounded like a romance novel, right? Plucking the book from the shelf and running your hands across its bindings, you made your way back to your table. Not wanting to sit thanks to the lingering nerves, you opened up the book to a random page and read it over to see if your prediction on the content was correct.

You found it was a romance that took place in a small village. Before you knew it, you were engrossed in the story, picturing yourself and Sebastian as the main characters who were in love. You slowly placed both of your hands on the table, leaning on them as you kept reading, forgetting you could sit back down. It’d really come to this, you were so head over heels for him you were picturing the two of you in a romance novel. A dreamy sigh escaped your lips.

“What are you reading?” Sebastian asked, coming up to your side. Your attention snapped to him. He chuckled at your startled expression and very red complexion. “Uh oh, catch you reading something interesting, did I?” 

"Um...”, You started, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Your mind was still recovering from the romantic scenarios you were just picturing the two of you in. 

Shaking your head and avoiding his gaze, Sebastian took this to mean you were upset with him. His heart sank. “I’m sorry it took me so long. Ominis and I decided to try a new spell and it took us forever to figure out. I was so focused on getting it right, I lost track of time. You’re not leaving soon, are you?”

You gave a small wave of your hand, dismissing his apology. “It’s alright, Sebastian. I got caught up here and... well, lost track of time myself.” You slid the book away from him, slowly closing it, hoping you didn’t look suspicious.

But, of course, Sebastian thought you looked suspicious. He raised a questioning brow at you and glanced at the book.

“What?” You asked innocently, turning away from him and looking down at the romance novel, firing off ideas in your head of how you’d put it away without him figuring out what it was.

“That book you got there. Why are you acting so secretive? Did I catch you reading something interesting after all?” Sebastian got closer, leaning one hand on the table next to the book and peering at it over your shoulder. His chest pressing up against your back. There he went again, giving you the slightest touch and driving you mad. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, intoxicating you. In that moment, you were tempted to yank him close and bury your face in his neck.

He turned his head to look at you for an answer, but you couldn’t get yourself to look back. He was so close, his lips were so close. You could make out his freckles out of the corner of your eye, feel his breath against your skin. Did he know what kind of effect he had on you? Was he teasing you? Your lips were moving to speak but no words would come out.

He gave you a playful nudge with his shoulder, prodding you to answer him. “Come on, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

And it wasn’t that bad, at most he would tease you for reading a romance novel. What was holding you back at this point was how nervous Sebastian was making you. As if you weren’t tense enough, he took it a step further and placed both of his hands on either side of you on the table, trapping you in. He rested his chin on your shoulder, taking another peek at the book.

“I never realized how much taller I am than you.” He chuckled, chest humming against your back. Keeping you in place, his callused hands grabbed yours to remove them from covering the title of the book. He held your hands in his while he read it over, then he gave a quiet, amused hum.

You turned in his arms and he lifted his head off your shoulder to meet your gaze. He smiled at you, but it faded when he saw your face. 

“What’s wrong?”

Finally facing him, even with how close he was, your desire took over your reason. And, just for a moment, you allowed yourself to be selfish. “You make me nervous, Sebastian.” You told him in a low tone.

He didn’t think you looked nervous at all. Something was written on your features but he certainly wouldn’t call it ‘nervous’. Your eyes were dark and you licked at your lips. It was brief but it caught his eye, seeing a quick glimpse of your tongue made his head race with all sorts of thoughts.

You too glanced at his lips, not caring if it was obvious what was on your mind.

Seeing your eyes shamelessly stare at his mouth, he froze. He was afraid if he made one wrong move, you’d run. He had wanted to kiss you for a while now, and right then it looked like you wanted to kiss him too. 

Then you did, and his heart went rapid. He had been convinced you could feel it when your hands moved up along his chest until one snaked around his shoulders and the other rested on his neck. His hands left their place on the table to grab your waist, pulling you closer, holding you in place. His warmth enveloped you.

You pulled away to kiss at Sebastian’s neck and his knees went weak. You kissed around the area you pictured he sprayed his cologne. You took an inhale and breathed out, “I always loved this scent on you.” You kissed at the area one more time, sending a pleasant tickling sensation up the back of his neck. His fingers dug deeper into your waist.

You go back to kissing his lips, which were softer than you had imagined. The way he earnestly moved his mouth against yours ignited sparks in your chest. You had wanted him so badly, and you finally had him there in your arms, on the tip of your tongue, for the taking. One of your hands moved to his hair and you reveled in the feeling of his locks between your fingers. 

But the abrupt sound of heels walking along a marble floor slowed your kiss to a halt. Madam Scribner. The two of you were so swept up in the moment you completely forgot other people existed (faculty that Sebastian does not have a good reputation with included).

The two of you left each other’s embrace just as Scribner came into view. Sebastian, hair slightly askew, gave a cough and acted like he was looking over some important papers which were actually your homework pages for a class he didn’t have. All the while, you had managed to open up the romance novel, nodding your head as if you were learning some new herbology methods.

Madam Scribner eyed the two of you while she put away a few books. “Getting late, best finish up before curfew.” And then she was gone, returning to her desk.

You and Sebastian looked at each other, cheeks flushed, and grinning from ear to ear. You bit at your lip and he rubbed the back of his neck. Clearing your throat, you started gathering up your homework and books.

Sebastian watched with an ache to pull you back in and keep kissing you senseless.

“I-I’m sorry I did that. That was selfish of me.” You stammered, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asked, returning to your side, thinking through anything he could have done to make you feel this way. You had helped him through so much, if anything he thought he was the selfish one. You came in as a new fifth year with seemingly endless catching up to do and you had to learn how to wield ancient magic on top of that. Yet, he was unabashed in asking for your help countless times, anything to steal you away for himself.

“Well I-I know how busy you are with your research for Anne and I’d hate to be the one who slowed you down just because I-.” You went quiet, unable to finish the sentence, fingers fumbling to organize the papers in your hands.

“Just because you... what?” He urged on.

“Merlin, Sebastian. Do I need to spell it out for you?” You exhaled, leaving to go put away the books you borrowed, him following close in pursuit.

“Please do.”

“As I said,” You sighed. “You make me... nervous.”

“In a good way or bad way?”

Putting the last of the books away, you turned to face him again. “Good, I suppose.” You confessed, barely above a whisper, unable to meet his gaze.

He tried to bite back the giddy smile forming on his lips. “I make you nervous in a good way.” He repeated back, almost sounding proud.

You nodded your head, looking down at your twiddling thumbs, listening out if he would say how he felt about you.

Sebastian glanced over to Madam Scribner, who made it not so subtle she was keeping an eye on the two of you. “We should start heading to our rooms now, I suppose. Curfew and all.”

Your heart dropped, he didn’t say a thing about reciprocating your feelings. Not even a simple “I feel the same.” He must have only been swept up in the moment, enjoying the attention. Perhaps teenage hormones could make kissing enticing no matter who you were with? Embarrassment filled your every limb and you wanted to run and hide. You gathered your things to go.

“Um, yes. You’re right. We should be going.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“No, that’s alright. At this point, I’m asleep on my feet and you must be exhausted too. I’ll just floo and go straight to bed.”

Your rejection took him aback. “Oh. Well, alright then. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Maybe. I’ve got some assignments outside of the castle, might not have time.”

“Well, let me come along to help.” He offered eagerly.

“Don’t worry yourself, just send me an owl if something comes up for Anne. Sleep well, Sebastian.” 

Before he could say anything more, you sped off to the library floo, and then you were gone. He was baffled at your sudden shift, everything was going so well. The two of you kissed and you had confirmed you felt the same as he did. He couldn’t believe he could make someone like you nervous. Hearing you say how you felt about him made him so happy he could burst. But then you were rushing to leave, rejecting his offer to help again. He didn’t think he said anything wrong, he barely said anything at all. Yet off you went, like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

He groaned in frustration as he made his way to his room. He had managed to kiss you and he still felt as distant as ever from you. He had never had the courage to outright tell you how he felt, so he would constantly toe the line with his touches. The brushing fingers, laying his head on your lap, sitting as close as he could to you in the dining hall, and now a kiss, all of which you seemed to welcome.

Sebastian laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, going back and forth in his head what your actions tonight meant. You had waited in the library for him all that time, you initiated the kiss, said you liked - no - loved his cologne, told him he made you nervous in a good way, and then you wanted nothing more to do with him. He replayed the whole night and he couldn’t pin down where he went wrong. 

He’d have to find you first thing in the morning, before you could leave.

[shadowkoo]

What Friends Are For

→ Summary: When your closest friend confides in you with something truly surprising, it's only natural to step in and offer your assistance, because that's what true friends do, right?

↠ vernon x f.reader | 2.8k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, best friends, friends to lovers, virgin/first time au

→ Warnings: explicit & unprotected sex, oral sex (male & female receiving), handjob, doggy, language, creampie, jealousy, teasing, slightly dominant!vernon, virgin!vernon, riding, breast play, nipple play, dirty talk, fingering, rough sex, deep dicking, hair pulling, begging, cum swallowing, deep throating

→ Author note: This is an updated version of an old fic of mine, I hope you enjoy it!!! If you’d like to read this on ao3 instead it’s been crossposted here! As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

“You can’t be serious!” you burst out laughing, sharing a dumbfounded look with your best friend. You’re at his apartment and he just finished telling you the most ridiculous thing ever. You chuckle again while you continue to look for a movie to watch. “You are such a liar.”

“I’m dead serious, don’t laugh,” Vernon huffs, “You have no idea what it’s like having to pretend with the guys like I know what I’m talking about.”

“Oh please, I know you’ve watched porn before and I still don’t believe that you’ve never at least gotten a blowjob before.” He can’t be a virgin. And you seriously doubt he’s made it to twenty-five without ever having his knob slobbered on.

“Well, it’s true! So just let it go,” he barks. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You look over to see if he’s just playing with you, he has to be. But you’re surprisingly shocked to see that he genuinely looks upset.

Realizing you hit a nerve, you apologize. “I’m sorry, I guess I just can’t believe it.” You click on a random movie to ease the awkwardness and decide to text your friends.

♡y/n♡: okie serious question, who wants to blow vern [7:50 pm]

♡cee♡: askjlasjdflkj !! [7:50 pm]

♡mal♡: giiiirl what are you on [7:50 pm]

♡y/n♡: he’s feeling down, someone’s gotta take one for the team [7:50 pm]

♡anna♡:: 👀 …. [7:51 pm]

♡anna♡: KIDDING [7:51 pm]

♡anna♡: but on a real note, why can’t you?? [7:51 pm]

♡y/n♡: ur joking right [7:51 pm]

♡cee♡: yeah you do it, i’m busy rn [7:51 pm]

♡cee♡: plus we all know he wants none of us [7:52 pm]

♡mal♡: lmao truuu [7:52pm]

♡y/n♡: what’s that supposed to mean?? [7:52 pm]

♡mal♡: idk why don’t u suck on ur boyfriend [7:52 pm]

♡mal♡: sorry i mean boy FRIEND [7:52 pm]

♡mal♡: major emphasis on the friend [7:52 pm]

♡y/n♡: i hate you guys [7:52 pm]

♡anna♡: no u don’t, now grow a pair of balls and play with his [7:52 pm]

♡y/n♡: OMG [7:53 pm]

♡cee♡: ur with him, aren’t you? sounds like the perfect time to do it [7:53 pm]

♡anna♡: and let us know after how it was 😏 and size, we’re all curious [7:53 pm]

You set your phone down intentionally upside down so Vernon can’t see the messages. At one point, you did have feelings for him but you pushed them aside in fear of ruining your friendship. How pathetic is that? Peeking over at him, you wonder if those feelings ever actually went away, or if you’ve been pretending this whole time.

He’s very attractive, that’s obvious. The last time you thought about your feelings for Vernon was about a year ago when he started dating this horrible girl. She was awful, but he was trapped under her spell and it drove you two apart. Back then, you thought that it was for the best since you wouldn’t have had the courage to tell him to break up with her and date you instead.

They dated for almost 6 months, and when they broke up Vernon was devastated. It didn’t take long for your friendship to go back to normal after their time apart, so that’s why you didn’t want to take any chances now.

Those 6 months without him were miserable and you didn’t want to live without Vernon in your life again. He was too special to you to let something as silly as old feelings come between your friendship. You don’t want to mess it up.

But on the other hand, you’ve heard friendships often create the best relationships. Would yours?

Vernon cares for you, that’s a given. But how far does it go? Sure, you two pretty much act like you’re in a relationship, but you haven’t kissed. Other than that one time when you brought drunk Vernon home… but that didn’t count because he was trashed at the time and didn’t remember it, or so you told yourself.

If you are ever going to make a move, now is the time. Do you really want to lose another chance that the universe is obviously lining you up for? Why else would he bring up the fact that he’s never had a blowjob unless he secretly wants you to give him one? Does he want more than a blowjob? Does he want you to…take his virginity?

You force yourself to quit overthinking and muster up enough courage to ask, “Vern?”

“Hmm?” he responds. He’s so caught up in the movie you’re watching that he doesn’t seem to notice you sit up and scoot closer to him. Your hands are shaking but you aren’t going to let that stop you.

‘God, what am I doing? This is so embarrassing…’

“Can I…” You mumble nervously, not being able to finish the sentence.

“Can you what?” He asks back, still not really registering what you are about to say.

’Well,’ you think to yourself, ’It’s now or never.’

You move off the couch to kneel in front of him and rest a hand on his thigh, commanding his attention away from the TV screen.

“Please, let me.”

It takes Vernon less than a second to understand exactly what you’re asking and he has no idea how to respond.

If he’s being honest, he’s always had a thing for you. Though he’s never had the guts to make a move or even admit it to you.

He swallows nervously as his length inevitably twitches in his pants. “You’re joking right?” ‘She can’t be serious. There’s no way. This had to be some kind of sick joke. But you don’t look like you were joking. In fact, you look like you’re pleading. Holy shit…’

“Not at all. I mean, we’re friends, right? Friends help each other,” you say while sliding your hands up to the button of his jeans. His eyes follow your movements as you unzip his pants and reach a hand in.

“You really don’t have to. Mingyu’s having a party and I’ll find someone and get laid this week-” his words are lost in his mouth as you wrap your small hand around his rather growing member.

“Why would you want a stranger to do it when you could have me? That’s what friends are for, silly.” You’re trying your damn hardest to make it sound like you’re doing him a favor as a friend and not doing this out of your own desire, your own need to touch him - to taste him. It’s your safety net in case he says no. In case this ends badly. However, you aren’t so sure that’s the message you’re sending since you’re quickly pulling his pants down his thighs.

You look up at him and run a finger over his tip before bringing him into your mouth for a taste. “Before I continue, I need to hear you say that you’re alright with it. Tell me that you want my mouth on your cock,” you demand playfully while your hands stroke his length.

Vernon is at war with himself. Should he give in to his desire of wanting you? Or should he pull back, laugh this off, and forget about this? How the hell is he supposed to forget about this? To forget the look of you on your knees asking to suck him off? There’s no way. It’s impossible.

“Fuck,” Vernon rubs a hand over his face and you freeze in fear of what he’s going to say. “Babe, you can do whatever you want to me. Fuck.”

Without hesitating a second longer, you lean down to take him in between your lips. His girth stretches your mouth in the most wonderful way, and you’re unable to control the moan that escapes from your parted lips. God, you aren’t even embarrassed. You lift your eyes up to watch him, his mouth ever so slightly opens and his tongue drifts out to lick his lips.

Vernon is lost. Is he supposed to hold your hair? Is he just supposed to sit here and watch? Should he be praising you right now? He has absolutely no idea. All he knows is that what you’re doing with your mouth is driving him crazy. “Oh my god, this is what I’ve been missing out on? This whole time?” Vernon leans his head back in pleasure. “Fuck,” he gasps, “I have a lot to catch up on.”

Hearing his words gives you more courage, and you relentlessly bob your head on his length, making sure to have just enough suction while doing so.

You pull back for air and let your hands tug on him while you kiss his tip, listening happily to his husky groans. Honestly, this is the best part of giving a blowjob. Knowing that you can make a guy, let alone Vernon, feel this good. You feel him twitch in your mouth and moan in pleasure. Drool is running onto your hands at this point, proof of how much you like his taste.

Vernon smirks, “I don’t know who’s enjoying this more. You,” he quickly inhales as you shove your mouth further down onto his length, “Or me.”

You slowly pull your mouth off of him, watching his face twist as you tease the underside of his tip with your tongue. “I don’t know, the look on your face tells me that you’re enjoying this a lot,” you taunt.

His legs quiver as his length once again finds the back of your throat, your hands massaging his balls. It’s too much. He has to cum, he can’t wait.

Wanting to help him out, you hum and instantly feel the sticky liquid running down your throat. Your hunger grows listening to Vernon call out your name, his hand pulling at the hair by your neck.

He watches in wonder while you swallow him, licking some of his seed off his length when you release him from your mouth. You lift a finger to rub the remaining cum around his tip, “You came.” Vernon shudders while you tease his sensitive member.

“Shit, Y/N,” he whimpers, “I couldn’t hold it any longer; not when you were doing that last thing.”

“I hope you’re not tired because I am so not done with you yet,” you whisper. You had a taste of him, and now you want more. You want all of him, and you don’t want to wait another second.

The lingering salty aftertaste in your mouth is washed away by Vernon's kiss as he pulls you up onto his lap. He lifts your shirt up and off of you, barely breaking contact with your lips in the process, before he takes off his own in the same manner.

Your hands rub along his chest, feeling his muscles tighten and relax as your touch moves along his silky skin. His head dips down to catch one of your breasts in his mouth. You roll your head back as his tongue plays with your hardening nub, a gasp leaving you when his teeth graze your nipple.

Your head snaps up when he pulls away from you.

He chuckles, “Relax, it’s time for me to return the favor.” He leaves a wet kiss on your other breast and moves down to nibble on the inner part of your thighs. After what feels like years, his hands reach for the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties off of you.

His tongue protrudes out and licks your center before moving closer to your clit, which he circles and sucks on gently at first. His mouth on your heat pulls moan after moan out of you, and you involuntarily take a fistful of his blonde locks when his tongue enters you repeatedly.

Vernon pulls back all out of breath and his cheeks glistening. God, it’s such a turn on to see him like that, his face damp with your cum. He reaches for you at the same time you grab for him. His lips crash against yours, your tongues twisting with each other.

Vernon slides a hand back down between your naked bodies and rubs your sensitive clit, making your back arch in pleasure. You moan into his mouth which he gladly swallows before sliding two fingers into your dripping heat, bringing you right back to where you just were. Only this time, your juices cover his long fingers instead of his face.

Just as you finish riding out your amazing orgasm, Vernon starts to sit up. Although, your hands are wrapped around his neck so he doesn’t make it that far. You pull him back down onto you, which he isn’t ready for. His knee falls next to yours, his other foot landing on the floor, causing his length to rub right up against your wet heat.

You both gasp at the contact, but it isn’t enough for you. Your hand moves to grip his member and bring him further between your lower lips, your hips moving along with his - until he hesitates, his eyes full of worry…

Vernon bites his bottom lip as you ask, “What is it?”

“I don’t know if we should go any further. I don’t have protection,” he explains.

“Oh Vernon, I don’t care. I need to feel you.” You kiss him again. “I’m on birth control anyway. I need you inside me,” you finish before gripping his hair to pull him closer to you. “Fuck me, Vernon. Fuck me hard, please,” you beg, “It’s all I’ve dreamt about. I need your thick cock stretching me out. Please, Vernon,”

Vernon almost dies hearing you say that. Shit, he’s dreamt about this moment too, and watching you beg him to fuck you like that made his length twitch with excitement. There is no way in hell he’s going to say no to you after hearing that. He leans in to kiss you hard before dipping his tip into your dewy folds. He’s being too gentle for your liking, typical Vernon behavior, so you push him to sit up and lean against the back of the couch, yourself following, and slide the rest of the way down onto him.

It takes you a moment to collect yourself before rolling your hips into his. Once you’re ready, you anchor yourself by holding onto his shoulders and he lifts his hips up to meet your delicious pace.

Your arousal soaks his member as he slides deep inside you. It’s a perfect fit, he hit all the right places and has you squirming in his arms.

“Oh my god, Vernon!” you whine, gyrating your hips to bring some relief to your aching bundle of nerves. Sweat covers both of your bodies as you fuck each other. The pleasure is almost unbearable; your insides scream for release.

As if he knows exactly what you want, Vernon flips you over and squeezes your ass cheeks before he enters you from behind. You push your face into the throw pillow below your head and grip the sofa’s arm for dear life.

“Oh god, don’t s-stop,” you drag out while he ferociously pounds into you. Vernon groans and hovers over top of you. His hand wraps around your neck and pulls your back against him.

This new angle has you shivering and Vernon can tell that you’re close again. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you down onto him harder. The sound of your arousal echoes through his living room, your breaths combining with the creaks of his couch.

You feel Vernon stiffen inside you, he’s close. “Cum in me. I want to feel you cum in me,” you sigh, begging for him to do so.

Vernon grits his teeth, there’s nothing he wants more than to fill you up with his cum right this second. Your legs clench as you tip over the edge. The climax hits you both instantaneously and sends you spiraling.

“Oh my god, oh god!” you cry out. Wave after wave of pleasure passes through your limp body. Thankfully Vernon is still holding onto you or you would have fallen off the couch. Resting against him, your breathing matches his.

His delicate touch leaves goosebumps along your body where his fingers trace. Everywhere tingles. You can’t remember the last time that you came this hard. It’s earth-shattering, exhausting, and yet you feel totally full of new energy at the same time.

Vernon’s cum starts leaking out of your folds, it’s a strange feeling. This is the first time you let someone cum in you and it felt oddly satisfying. Vernon reaches over to the coffee table and grabs a tissue to clean you up with before laying back down on the couch, bringing you on top of him.

“Jesus,” He pants, still completely out of breath, “Where the fuck did that come from.”

“I don’t know but I’ll be needing more of that when I wake up,” you moan, your eyelids feeling awfully heavy. Vernon’s chest vibrates, laughing at your response. He puts an arm around your waist as he whispers, “Thank you, for… well you know. That.”

“Mmm, no problem.” You turn your head over to look up at him and smile devilishly, “That’s what friends are for, remember?”

©shadowkoo 2023. All rights reserved.

[himegureisu]

Hiii! Just got home from a horrifying midterm exam. It went horrible, none of the questions were even in the lesson plan. Although it did give me an idea for this request :')

It's practically universal knowledge that Snape is a 'terror prof' (iykyk) at Hogwarts — his standards are high, he's very particular with essays and it's practically expected that every major exam, tears will be shed in and out the classroom with the amount of curveballs he throws at you.

(I'd feel like he'd be the type to have a True or False exam with choices like: True, Partially True, Partially False, False, and if none is applicable write the correct answer and all of it is situational)

He's married to the reader and they're both teachers, so they help each other on their loads. Much more efficient that way. One night after a particularly hard-hitting major exam in the semester, reader encounters tear stains and snot and a few drops of blood from a nosebleed on one of the exams (witnesses this once lol) and decided to confront him husband about it. Thank you! I hope this isn't too specific ;w;

Questions and Answers

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

A/N: I'm sorry you had a horrible exam day and thank you for preventing me from pulling my hair out of frustration because my Notion page was not cooperating when this request came through. I hope you enjoy this! 💖

——————————— 🪄———————————

“Severus, darling, why do your exam papers have at least two different types of fluids on them?” your fingers flip through the unfinished stack, your eyes scanning them.

This was the thirty-fifth test paper from his pile that you graded. His second-year tests were stained by a range of substances you curiously identified through a spell.

Did he truly not notice them?

“There’s a combination of either snot, sweat, tears, or,” you paused, taking one of the papers you already graded, to present to him. His dark eyes highlighted by the round reading glasses made for a rather attractive sight but focus, “On the rare occasion, blood,”

“Oh,” he simply said, looking up at you, “And?”

“Is that all you can say?” you frustratedly run a hand through your forehead as you sit on the edge of his desk causing him to stop, “What are these questions even? It’s a major exam for second years, not OWLs or NEWTs, Severus. My head hurts not only from the answers but also the questions,”

“If they can’t answer then they’re not competent enough to proceed to the…” his sentence undone by the beginning of your ramble, an attempt to explain why his methods were not feasible.

“Can you imagine the physical, mental, and emotional drain that major exams cause to students? You can reminisce on your time as one if it helps but it’s not good and then to be brought to this level of inquiry as if they were taking a mastery,” you explained, “There isn’t even a 50-50 chance to get the answer right only 25 because you decided that it would be better if there would be four very similar but distinct answers to the multiple choice questions and not a chance of redemption for those who don’t know the question if the said answer is one they needed to correct. I can better understand your students’ frustrations from this version of your exams,”

“To adjust the exam would mean that there would be a lower level of understanding…”

“That’s the point though since they’re just building the foundation of what they know for potions!” you exclaimed, “If it were a muggle game, Severus, it should be easy, medium, and then hard but your exams are hard, hard, and then hard on every level. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but…”

“Sev, imagine this,” you sit on his lap, cupping his cheeks for him to focus on you as you say, “Imagine a child, our child, a little boy or girl coming home to us in tears because of a similar test that they’d taken on that day,”

“It would be different. They would be ours,” he grumbled, pulling you in closer to bask in your warmth, “We wouldn’t teach them to be like that,”

“Sev, just imagine!” you sighed exasperatedly, his face buried beneath your chin, “Your little girl coming home in tears crying for us wanting a hug because of an awful exam day,”

His breathing was in sync with yours, trying to understand your reasoning. His imagination slowly conjures a little girl in your image. Her face was stained with big fat crocodile tears, a snot-filled nose, and books slung defeatedly on her arm. His heart tightened at the image of it, protectiveness surging from within.

No one was allowed to make either of you cry.

“Can you imagine?” you softly asked, running a hand through his hair, as he mumbled, “Yes,”

“Can you change the way your tests are written?” you silently prayed that he would, he breathed in and faced you to answer, “Fine, and you’ll help me,”

“I expect as much,” you smiled.

As you were about to get off his lap, his arms quickly pulled you back and in doing so, caused the chair to stumble a bit from the force. His nose on your hair, breaths warm, and hug unwilling to let go.

“Sev?” you glance back to see his darkened gaze, “What is it?

“Do you want children?” he asked, it wasn’t something both of you discussed in depth before, “I realized that after four years of marriage, we didn’t elaborate on our expectations on that particular topic,”

“If we’re blessed with children, then I’m happy,” you informed, tracing the contours of his face. No matter how many times you’ve seen him it’s like there’s another new thing to catalog in your mind, “If not, then I’ll be happy having you all to myself,”

“I don’t know if I want children,” he admitted, and you kissed his cheek, “We’ll get there when we get there, Sev, for now, don’t think about it,”

[infinityinakiss]

*agatha all along episode 5 spoilers*

holy shit that was a fucking episode alright

i loved the broom scene so much, whoever thought of that gets a raise.

rio being protective of agatha and her mommy issues I WANNA CRY also even the fact that rio knows any of her trauma implies that they were basically wives, agathario fans keep wining.

rip alice, but also i think she's alive, or at least gonna come back in some way. rio disappeared for some reason y'all and i think it was to deal with alice. with the way that rio was looking at agatha after she drains alice's power, it doesn't make sense that she would just disappear when it was clear that agatha needed her, unless there was something more pressing to deal with. so rio went to talk to alice.

i hope.

oh my god agatha trauma episode. so much to unpack there. the fear she had and the confusion in her eyes. her disbelief towards why her mother would continuously hate her and hurt her, over and over again. she was never able to leave that 18 year old version of herself that her mother tried to execute. then there's nicholas scratch. her son, pleading with her to stop. her mother, and her son, two swords in her heart. one she couldn't get to love her, and one she couldn't stop loving.

did she lie when she said she lost control? i vote no. her power draining thing had always started out as a form of protection, that then evolved in to becoming who her mother always thought she was. in this moment, she's terrified. she saw a rope that was thrown the well and she grabbed it.

now the juicy bit.

"you're so much like your mother" THE WAY I SCREAMED

TEEN YOUR MOM IS SO PROUD RIGHT NOW

IT WAS AMAZING, NO NOTES, BEST WAY TO DO THE WHOLE WICCAN THING IN MY HUMBLE OPINION

i love the lack of lines in the whole scene, and just letting the acting speak for itself. especially because most of the viewers already knew that he was wiccan, i really love that they didn't have agatha completely spell it out for us. i think they're at least a bit aware that this wasn't a twist, just something that was exciting.

the way wanda's magic is just so recognizable. i think joe locke did a pretty good job emulating wanda's fighting style. the fingers were on point.

i was really surprised that agatha wasn't a tiny bit concerned when she found out that teen was the child of the scarlet witch, the very person who decimated her after knowing magic existed for a solid two hours. plus it seems to be implied that she figured out who he was because she recognized his magic. it doesn't make sense that she would taunt a person that she knows has a family history of fucking shit up when they're distressed.

PHENOMENAL SONG CHOICE

i don't think this was an actual trial. i think this the road realizing that this is a coven with too many walls that needed to be broken. and i think it recognized an incredibly powerful witch that needed to figure out who he was. maybe the road thought that a spot for a protection witch needed to open up so that he could fill that space. the way the episode was structured, the way the trial was structured, didn't really line up with the other episodes. so i think agatha's real trial is coming later.

THE HEAD TILT. truly his mother's son.

wanda, come pick up your kid, he's doing something stupid

[cherryredstars]

Idk if ur requests are open right now, but if they are, please PLEASE can you do this idea I have rn… ok so, I was sorta thinking about how spider!reader and Miguel go on a mission together to retrieve a spiderman, but in this universe it’s a girl version of Miguel. And, Miguel had like a little (big) crush on spider!reader and in this universe there’s a girl/boy version of us that girl Miguel has a crush on, so, Female!Miguel gets attracted to us and fights Miguel all the time for spider!reader attention 🙏 IM BEGGING FOR YOU TO DO THIS PLEASEEE😭😭 also, I love your fan fics😼😼

(Don’t mind my spelling 😭)

1k Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: Pining, Jealousy, Fluff

Summary: You were his first. 

Word Count: 961 (Not Edited)

Miguel never understood why people were jealous of others. 

The idea of wanting to be like someone else because they looked prettier or did a certain thing better or because they had something he wanted was stupid. He knows that everyone has some fucked up shit happening behind the scenes, and he’s perfectly content to handle his own deal of problems. All in all, being jealous of someone else was a waste of time. And he was ready to die on that hill, until he met her. 

It was supposed to be an easy mission, and in and out sort of deal. The only reason Miguel went along on the mission was because it was in a new universe, and he always preferred to check it out for himself. And, of course, he brought you along. As much as he loved watching the way your body moved in your suit and hearing the soft melody of your voice as you went on and on about your day, he always brought you along because you made everything better. Literally. You seemed to have this calming effect on others, helping newly discovered spider men, women, animals, anything under the sun really, process the idea of the multiverse. It wasn’t a big surprise that Miguel had ended up falling under your spell, absolutely adoring the contrast in personalities. But now, he wishes he can pick you up and carry you back to HQ where he can keep you all to himself. 

You don’t even notice the displeased look on Miguel’s face as he watches, arms crossed over his broad chest and the smallest of pouts on his lips as he watches you interact with…himself. Herself, technically. It was the biggest surprise to the both of you when you had discovered Miguel’s genderbend protecting the city. She had taken an instant liking to you, making it a point to brush her fingers along your arms, fingers twirling your hair as she talked, going on and on about her version of you. Female Miguel absolutely loved whispering things just loud enough for you to hear, a deep flush coming over your face as you smiled bashfully. It was driving him fucking nuts. 

His fingers itched to pull you away from her, to mark you as his and that she could go run off to whatever version of you she had. This one is mine. It wouldn’t count as self-harm if he tested if she had the same pain tolerance as him, right? He promises it’s for research purposes only, no other reason. It definitely is not because he- she- is making not so subtle passes about you staying over and going back to her place. Not at all. Definitely had no correlation to the way female Miguel is leaning in super close to you, lips practically touching your ear as she whispers whatever bullshit she has in her mind. Miguel is practically blind to the way her fingers are ghosting over the front of your suit, circling over your stomach. 

When female Miguel makes a move to kiss your cheek, Miguel gives into his urges. With a low snarl, he grabs your arm and pulls you behind him protectively. His eyes are narrowed at himself- herself?- the entire time, female Miguel doing the same to him. They look like rabid dogs fighting over a bag of food, teeth barred and eyes shining red. Both Miguel’s loose their face as your peak behind him, your hand slowly rubbing at his arm in an attempt to calm him down. Miguel throws a cocky grin at female Miguel, who sports an ugly scowl in response as you try to coax them back to HQ. 

Of course, things don’t get any better on the way back to base. Female Miguel thinks she has a right to your every second, staying attached to your arm as Miguel walks ahead. Miguel makes it a point to interrupt the conversation every few seconds, giving out rules and explanations that make a vein pop at the side of his female version’s head. He finds absolute joy getting in the way of her advances, only for it to be wiped away when he sees how affected you are at her words and small touches. I could do that, he scowls, I could do that and so much more. 

He can only really relax when female Miguel finally opens up a portal to go home, a small whine in her voice as she asks you if you’ll visit her real soon. You can only smile kindly and nod, the promise on the tip of your tongue before Miguel all but shoves himself- herself, fuck- into the portal with an indifferent, “oops”. You can’t help but laugh, finally catching onto his irritated behavior halfway through female Miguel’s visit. You smile sweetly at him, patting his arm as you wordlessly follow him back to his office. Before you can enter though, Miguel pulls you towards a small side hallway, pressing you up against the wall before checking for prying eyes. You stare up at him in a mixture of adoration and confusion, breath hitching when his face gets real close to yours. 

His eyes scan your face, a small scowl between his brows that soften as his eyes meet yours. It doesn’t take long for them to wander down to your lips, eyes slightly darkening. You’re completely unprepared when he tilts his head and leans the rest of the way forward. His warm lips meet the corner of yours, the feel of his fangs just barely there. Your world seems to be in chaos as your try to process the action, eyes trailing after his receding form as his whispered words boom in your head:

“Choose me, okay?”

I was supposed to write this yesterday but I had no time and it's so obvious from the way I wrote this. I’m so sorry, I'm always more than willing to redo a request if you don't love it!!!

[alexiswritingstuff]

Is that... lipstick?

Pairing: Castiel x gn! reader.

Other appearances: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Summary: While trying to have a morning like any other, the Winchester brothers notice a certain fact about the reader they apparently hadn’t themselves. Though once they did, it was something... very unexpected. 

Content/Warnings: implied intimacy. nothing explicit unless you want it to be. implied alcohol consumption.

Also this has not been proofread again so be aware that there might be spelling mistakes and such.

A/N: okayokayokay I had this idea from that trend on tiktok where a person would show themselves fixing up their lipstick and then pan to the reason it was messed up in the first place (their partner) and immediately just came up with whatever this was.

Cas is like my go to when writing rn but If someone wants like a Dean x reader version of this... let me know...

Waking up always felt like the most difficult part of the day. A sort of sluggishness continuously pulling at every muscle within your body. A dull ache that pulsed across the temple as if in harmony with a heartbeat. 

There was a list of things that begged you to stay in the comfort of a bed, but you found yourself up and about anyway, ending up in the kitchen with squinting eyes as soon as the harsh lighting consumed your vision. 

You had a milk carton in one hand, while your other held onto a bowl of dry cereal, and you titled it to the side, watching the liquid pour over the bites of paradise until some began to float. 

Sam was sat at the table to your right. His eyes were practically glued to the screen, his fingers typing away like he was doing a test for how fast he could do it. A sound that didn’t exactly help your head, even though there was the hood of a hoodie covering your ears.

“Yo, Sam, you’re the smart one,” you started after returning the milk to its cold home. The frantic pressing of keys ceased all at once, after at least 3 more words had been spelled out. “... What?”

“I’m not... I’m not repeating that-- How do you cure a headache?” you questioned instead, grabbing the spoon you had set down earlier. Sam’s chair squeaked lightly as he leaned back. “Um...”

“I’m pretty sure you could just take an ibuprofen. Or, you know, put a wet towel on your head? Something like that.” 

The younger Winchester sort of looked at you for a minute, though he could only see your back. His eyes analysed your posture, the way that you moved, the way that you stood. And then they narrowed.

His chin slightly tilted up, “Did you drink a lot last night?”

A scoff passed through your lips immediately. “I honestly don’t have an answer to that.” The first mouthful of cereal had been brought to your lips and the second the food touched your tongue, your shoulders relaxed. A sigh seeped through your nose. “I wanna marry the person that made cereal.”

The bowl that really was utter paradise was now in your hands, your fingers gripping onto it for dear life as you finally turned yourself round so that you could lean against the metal island.

“You know that person is dead and has been for... many years, right?” Sam spoke with furrowed eyebrows, the laptop in front of him now long forgotten. “Never stopped me before.” was all you had said before another spoonful was shovelled into your mouth.

At this point a set of footsteps had started echoing through the hallway, and after Sam looked at you with either disgust or concern, or both, his eyes went to the doorway.

“Whoa.” Dean’s feet halted for a moment as he looked between his relieved looking brother and the gremlin thing that was practically hunched over a bowl. “What kind of meeting is this?”

You swallowed, “One where people stop asking questions first thing in the morning.” you responded lazily, gathering more of the contents into your spoon. Dean raised his eyebrows for a second, only to nod his head a second later when his brother sent him a shrug. 

“Well,” He continued his previous movements and was now officially in the kitchen, beginning to make his way through the space between the island and the table. “As long as I get breakfast out of it, I---”

Dean stopped almost as fast as he had started. And soon enough, by the time your mouth was yet again full, it seemed that the man was now stood to your side.

It wasn’t until you looked up that you had actually noticed those green eyes of his were aimed right at you, even though you hadn’t uttered a word. You could only blink for a moment.

“What?” you finally questioned, the word barely audible through the mush. 

But Dean still stared, mouth agape and eyes flickering over almost every inch of your face in a way that made you want to fold in on yourself. You swallowed again, “Wha-- What? What is it?”

The man before you took about a step backwards, allowing Sam to have you in his line of sight. And then he practically mirrored Dean’s expression, his eyebrows beginning to raise as if they were aiming for the ceiling. “... oh.” 

“Oh.” Dean said himself.

Then suddenly, as if the final cog had turned in his head, the face that was once frozen in shock had morphed into this shit eating grin that curled in a beyond terrifying way.

He started laughing. 

It wasn’t his usual huffed one, a giggle, or even those little ones he did when making fun of someone. This man was full on cackling in a way that had him bending at the knees.

Sam himself did a bit better at hiding his reaction to whatever it was they were seeing, though his lips sort of trembled as they tucked very tightly together.

You placed the bowl onto the island behind you, arms now crossed over your chest, as you looked between the boys like a disappointed teacher. “Am I going to have to wait a year for you to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Oh-- Oh, man, this-- this is-- Oh, my god, this is great!” Dean strained out through even more hard laughs while you looked back and forth between the brothers, desperately trying to gage what had happened. “What?”

Finally, after asking the same question over and over again for what felt like the millionth time at this point, and after Sam managed to clear his throat without cracking, he spoke up. “Have you, uh...”

“Have you looked in a mirror at all this morning?”

You shook your head slowly, your eyebrows now very much furrowed if they weren’t before, “No... Why?”

Dean couldn’t even properly speak at this point, as every attempt to contain that urge of laughter ended in yet another fit. “You-- Man, I want-- Ha! I want a picture of this.” he managed out after a few tries, and even began to pat at his pockets as best as he could in his condition.

Though, the laugh and the lack of understand of what the hell was happening made you feel very self-conscious in that moment... You had to admit that it was very nice to see Dean like that, let alone hear that sort of laughter that hasn’t been heard in a very long time.

After staring at the man who was still in absolute hysterics for a second longer, your eyes travelled back over to Sam when he cleared his throat again, and even scrunched his nose in an attempt to calm himself down.

“Yeah,” he started through a slight hushed voice as he nodded his head, “I think it’s best if you go look, just-- No reason.” 

It was literally first thing in the morning. Your energy levels didn’t even exist at this point, and all you really wanted to do was just eat your damn cereal in peace... but nevertheless.

You complied. 

Your gaze flicked back and forth between the brothers one more time before you pushed yourself off of the island and moved towards the doorway, your feet dragging with every step.

Another round of laughter erupted as soon as you had left the room. 

~

Various grumbles joined by the hum of electronic power were the only sounds that echoed through the annoyingly bright halls.

Though the air that circulated was cool, it never seemed to ease the warm rush of embarrassment that burned around your body, despite not even knowing the cause.

After walking through the maze like hallways within the bunker, that felt even longer when tired, you had found yourself in front of the large dark door that held the shower room behind it.

With all the strength you could muster in your state, you turned so that your shoulder could lean on the wood. Your hand grabbed at the handle that was so cold underneath your fingertips that you had almost immediately retracted. As if electrocuted.

The door swung open within the next second, but as soon as it had done so, instead of taking a step inside, your hands now jolted up to cover your eyes, “Jesus!” You blinked more times than anyone could count, your eyelids barely even making it halfway before they had to shut again.

The walls in the room were basically all white, meaning that the light emitted from the ceiling just purely bounced around every nook and cranny. “Might as well be looking at the damn sun.” you muttered to yourself, an irritated sigh following after.

Once you had at least mildly managed to get adjusted to the disgraceful lighting, you allowed yourself to shuffle into the equally cold room.

Soon enough, your heavy body ended up at the sink, your hands grasping along the rim of the bowl in an attempt to stabilise yourself when another ache had pulsed along your forehead.

You took in a deep breath through your nose and held it there for a few seconds. Your eyes landed on the mirror that sat before you, the blinking beginning all over again as the reflection being seen was only blurry.

But thus, after a good minute of being in that bathroom, your body allowed itself to adjust to everything that continuously attacked your senses. 

One last blink was all it took before you could see yourself in the glass as clear as day... And everything that came with it.

“Oh... my god.”

Your face was brought closer to the mirror within an instant, your previously tired and heavy eyes becoming fully open in alarm as they were now the ones to search across the skin of your face.

On almost every single feature, that you could see in front of you, was an imprint from a certain cosmetic.

Most entirely followed the outline that very clearly resembled the shape of lips, but others were smudged, some even dragging to where another had been placed.

Lipstick.

There was an odd texture that you had felt tighten the indents of your face this morning, but never in your life would you have imagined that this was the reason. You thought your skin was just being weird.

Your body was frozen. No matter how hard you thought in that moment, there was absolutely no recollection of the previous night. Or who even owned lipstick.

The eyes that stared back at you were almost wild now, a sort of panic surging through your veins at the lack of any memory... Though, it faded into something else as fast as it had started.

Your hood had slipped off the back of your head after your sudden movement. And now, upon gazing at the new areas exposed to you, your eyes ended up travelling even lower. Which now left you realising yet another thing.

The marks weren’t only on your face.

Your heart was purely hammering in your chest, all of the previous confusion and disorientation from earlier fuelling the fire that was panic, as you slowly pushed yourself backwards to stand up straight.

There was a print of lips halfway under the neckline of your hoodie.

Your hands raised, almost frightened, to grip at the fabric. And soon you had it between your fingers, realising now that the texture of that too had been altered from stains that you were guessing happened during everything else.

With a slight shake to your breath, and a squeeze of the material in your grasp, you gingerly began to pull it away so that the skin of your torso was properly revealed in the light--

It was slammed back to your chest within the next second. An audible gasp had even spilled from your lips as you found your gaze in the mirror yet again. Eyes still wide, almost unblinking.

“Holy...”

Your feet took a stumbled step away from the sink, your fingers still tightly clutched to your hoodie, as if it was a set of pearls. But even that couldn’t hide the set prints that apparently travelled a lot further than you thought. The more parts that you looked at, the more stains you found.

Your body had been a canvas to a painter you couldn’t remember.

At this point, you were stood in the centre of the room. Every emotion felt morphing into one thing that spread from your head to your toes.

And then you turned, twisting slow on your feet until your hazed eyes landed on at least one of those large showers that seemed more appealing than they had ever in the morning.

How the hell did you get lipstick off?

~

To rid the skin of countless stains took longer than you had originally thought.

Most of your body felt raw. As if you had scrubbed it with sandpaper for hours on end, though it was just your hands. All was worth it, however, as the previous marks were no more.

For the first time throughout the entire morning, the air that engulfed you within the hallway relieved the warmth that clung as you walked through it, your fresh set of clothes slightly sticking to your body more and more with every step.

You ruffled your towel through your damp hair, the ache in your temple now caused by your eyebrows that were furrowed due to the multitude of thoughts that filtered both in and out of your mind.

An act that almost had you walking right past your own bedroom.

Another grumble murmured through your lips as you turned to the side, opening the door like you had done with the one for the shower room. And then you walked in, the fuzz in your mind apparently stopping you from noticing the light that illuminated its contents.

One that previously wasn’t on at all.

Your head shook, as if all the action going on in your mind would just let go.

Instead of getting closer to figuring out last night's mystery, you were getting further away... Or nowhere at all.

You went round the edge of your bed, taking your towel in both hands before stretching the material out completely so that you could drape it across the radiator along the wall.

A breath was brought slowly in and out of your lungs after taking a step back from the warmth. Your spine uncurled from it’s miserable slouch, your arms practically going limp by your sides while your eyes fell closed.

You reached backwards after a moment, hands patting through the air until you managed to locate the mattress that was screaming your name. But instead, you just sat yourself down. Attempting a final try to get to the bottom of everything. “Come on, man.” 

At this point, your head was lowered onto your hands that had previously been clasped together moments before. 

You tried everything. Thinking back to what you had done before the timeframe of the... event, who it could’ve been. I mean, Sam and Dean would surely have asked questions if it was someone they didn’t know, right?

Still, even after all of that, and the extra seconds you took to wrack through your brain for even the slightest memory from last night. Something that could just spark your brain and give you the answer. There was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

“Dammit.” you breathed out, your body now falling limp against your lap as your shoulders deflated with it.

There was almost this feeling of shame that pierced through every other one.

It wasn’t so much so about the fact that you couldn’t remember if you had gone out, or brought someone back into your own home, as much as it was about the fact that you had shared such an intimate experience with a person. And you couldn’t remember a single thing.

Who the hell--

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped up within a second, your body following suit in a way that made it seem like you were about to go flying into the wall when you had managed to stand. “Jesus!”

The heel of your foot had twisted so quickly that it almost gave your skin carpet burn. Your arms were up and ready as you looked throughout the room to find the intruder...

And then your eyes landed on your bed. More importantly, those familiar set of blue eyes that stared right back at you.

Your shoulders eased back down as they had done earlier, your calloused hands raising before rubbing at the soft skin of your face, that felt even nicer after that shower.

“Okay, yeah-- I think Dean is right, man. You’ve gotta stop just appearing like that.” you practically groaned out as you pinched at the bridge of your nose.

“Well, I... I seem to have been here before you walked in.”

Your fingers dragged away from the warm skin beneath it so that you could allow your gaze to find the man, who was most definitely not helping your confusion. “Huh?”

Especially when you had actually located him.

Because of your previous glance, you had thought that Cas was just sat on your bed for whatever reason he desired.

Though now, as you properly stared back at him, finally registering that sort of grogginess that further emphasised the gravel to his voice when he had spoken, you had noticed that he was in fact under the covers.

Your covers.

His torso was practically twisted just so that he could meet your eyes while his own were narrowed, adjusting to the light, and almost looked puffy as if he had just woken up.

Your eyebrows were most definitely furrowed if they weren’t before. “I thought angels didn’t sleep.” You were about to say. Another mystery that you had to solve... but instead, just as the words were going to roll off of your tongue, your brain had fully taken in the appearance of the person before you.

Castiel’s hair was dishevelled, heavily contrasting the way it usually sat, which in itself was most unusual.

And then you saw it.

No words could even begin to pass through your lips in that moment. No matter how hard you tried. There wasn’t a sound, or even a vowel.

“Y/n?” Cas questioned before clearing his throat, slowly pushing himself upward until he could sit upright and even did his signature head tilt when he was properly facing you. “What’s wrong?” He fought with an urge to yawn.

You couldn’t move. Your eyes were just glued to his lips. A set that seemed to be layered with a sort of faded deep red which smudged severely over the skin surrounding his mouth, especially towards the corners. “Oh.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed at the lack of fullness to your voice.

It appeared that your mystery was solved.

You had found your mystery painter.

“Oh.”

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 18

"I see what's mine and take it" (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes) / Bewitched

Yuu's party watched in horror Malleus's body twitched uncomfortably, Rollo standing unfazed over his body.

"Bastard!" spat out Yuu, bursting out of the vines and raising their staff to charge a spell. From the corners of their eyes, Yuu could see the other members of their party do the same, or at least their own version with their respective weapons.

Rollo, however, was not amused.

"Cross me again," he warned, and raised his staff over his head.

Yuu tried to fire, but the shot was a total waste. Rollo vanished into the shadows too quickly, the bolt of magic ended up bouncing off the polished stone wall, dissipating into the ground.

Though minor, the attempt would end up costing Yuu precious seconds of sorting out the situation. As the resident healer, it was often on them to sort out complex magical problems whenever they were presented to the party, and this would prove to be a thorny mess to sort out.

Yuu, however, did not know that at this time. Still, when Malleus rose from the cloud of smoke that had enveloped his body to a dizzying height, they were able to guess that Rollo was indeed a very, very powerful wizard.

It was easy to see why Malleus was doing so. His lower half appeared to have been replaced with the body of some sort of reptile, with scaly flesh and clawed limbs and all of that.

Yuu guessed it was a dragon, though they'd never seen one. It matched the descriptions they'd heard.

How had Rollo been able to summon so much transformation magic at the drop of a hat? He'd have to have constructed the body of the dragon with something, would it be prudent to destroy his supply and cut him off.

Or... was this something Malleus could do innately?

"Yuu!"

Before they could blink, someone was tackling them to the ground. They'd become to fixated to notice the haze leaving Malleus's eyes as he took a swipe at them.

The long, vicious claws were mere breaths away from Yuu as Ace held them down, and Yuu was thankful the wind had been knocked out of their lungs, lest they scream at it all.

They saw Jack draw an arrow as Deuce tried to stick Malleus with a knife in the stomach. Both points seemed only to agitate Malleus more, however, and he roared so loudly, Yuu felt it in their chest.

Yuu rolled away to let Ace snatch his sword off his belt and charge forward, and Yuu began firing up a spell, though they didn't know which one to use.

Malleus's eyes were wide, his teeth gnashing and grinding, the still-human part of his body flailing wildly.

He attacked Deuce, who screamed and ran away as fast as he could, just barely dodging a sickening snap of Malleus's jaws.

His jerky movements suggested he was being yanked somehow, possibly against his will, but Yuu's brain was paralyzed with fear, and they couldn't quite think straight.

Malleus's tail swung around, crashing Jack into Ace, and Yuu saw what it could be that was puppeting Malleus- Rollo, standing behind him with his staff plucking at some glowing strings.

Yuu fired again, but Rollo vanished once more. They found him again quickly in a ledge on the walls, but Yuu knew it was no use in trying to shoot again without a better strategy. He was just too fast.

Instead, Yuu tried to summon a great ball of light and explode it right next to Malleus. They took most of the energy out of their spell, instead maximizing the remaining energy as light and sound to create a flashbang.

If he was falling prey to baser instincts, this irrationality might care him off, and indeed, his wretched squeals made Yuu's heart wrench.

But it worked. Yuu saw Malleus trying desperately to rub the light out of his eyes, allowing Yuu's party to regroup.

Rollo would not stand for it. With a cold glint in his eyes, he raised his hands, and Yuu swore they could see the puppet strings attached straight to his fingers.

Malleus went slack, tear tracks running down his cheeks, then rigid, all with the same vacant look in his eyes before his pupils sharpened.

Onto the object in his line of sight- Yuu.

He surged forward to slash at them, and Yuu hit the floor to dodge. His fixation had not ended, however, and he pushed them further and further into a corner of the room as Malleus attacked.

"M-Malleus!" Yuu exclaimed, feeling their staff tap the back of the wall indicating they'd run out of space, and with that, time.

To anyone else, the change might have been imperceptible, Yuu thought there might have been a chance that the words had actually sunk in.

"Malleus," they said again, trying to sound calm. "You remember me, right?"

They tried to examine whether or not the minute change sin his face meant he was listening, but the biggest tell to Yuu was that he wasn't attacking anymore. He was still coiled tightly like a predator, but at least Malleus had stopped for now.

"Yuu!" exclaimed Epel, but Yuu had to ignore him to focus.

"Malleus, please remember," insisted Yuu. It seemed it was their voice more than their words he was responding to, so Yuu kept talking. "I know you can calm down. You must be scared, right?"

He was breathing heavily, as if the strings were taking a physical toll on him. Yuu could see his shoulders heave up and down.

"That's good," said Yuu, lowering their voice a bit. "That's really good. You're doing good, you know that?"

Malleus was only staring now, tense body having seemingly uncoiled a bit.

"Thank you, Malleus," they said.

Just then, another voice cut in.

"Attack!" shouted Rollo, and Yuu's stomach dropped out as Malleus lunged straight for them.

There wasn't even time for them to scream as his claws sunk into them, but to their surprise, Yuu was actually fine.

One of Malleus's long clawed limbs had grabbed onto them, lifting them to his eye level.

From this close, Yuu could see just how unhinged he look, the magic clearly twisting his body in cruel and unusual ways.

"Malleus! I said, attack!" ordered Rollo, but Yuu could hardly hear him over he pounding in their ears.

They tried to stay still as Malleus examined them, fist squeezing and loosening with no regard for their security.

"Oh no, Yuu!" They recognized that as Jack, calling up helplessly from below.

Malleus had finally centered his gaze on them, though, and had semeed to come to a conclusion.

Nodding to himself, he growled a bit to the people below him, enveloped Yuu beneath his great wings, and before they knew it, the two of them had vanished, having teleported away.

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me (part 3)- matt sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3

summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he finds out your his mate.

contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), smut (not in this part)

a/n: a short chapter but the next ones a biggie. love yall and thank you so much for the support

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

when i wake up, i’m strapped to a bed frame. i struggle against the restraints but all that comes out of it is another dizzy spell.

“hey, your awake” i whip my head around to see two blue eyes staring back at me. fear shoots into my chest again, as i stare at matt’s brother, chris, in front of me. if matts not human, then i bet he’s not either.

“get away from me” my voice shakes and i gear my legs up to be ready to kick if necessary. “i know matt scared you pretty bad yesterday, but i promise, no ones going to hurt you here.” he comes and sits on the side of the bed, placing his hand on my knee gently

chris and i have only ever had one class together and it was in our sophomore year, but i always thought highly of him. he was nice and funny, unlike his brother. i may have even had a crush on him, if i had allowed myself to. the version of him i knew before, overides my fear of what he is and as he strokes my knee some of my fear goes away. but then all of a sudden, anger spikes within me that somehow doesn’t feel like my own. chris’ hand that was once comforting felt like a hot clothing iron on my skin. i wince and chris takes his hand off me immediately. instead, he looks towards the doorway apprehensively.

in the doorway, is none other than the matt sturniolo, and he looks furious.

fear and another feeling i can’t put my finger on fills me at the sight of him. i take a deep breath to try and calm myself down. at least he looks like he’s back to normal, no more red eyes and black veins.

“hey, she was freaking out, i was only trying to help. it’s not like that, i swear.” chris puts his arms up defending himself and trying to ease matts anger.

“whatever, get out” he snarls and i wince at the sound. chris scrambles out the room and matt marches up to me, sitting in the exact spot chris was moments before. unlike chris’ gentle touch, matt grabs my thigh roughly and possesively. even though the move was aggressive, when i feel his touch my body relaxes and my thighs clench together, hard. why is this turning me on and why did i stop panicking all of a sudden? his presence and touch should do nothing but scare me after everything he’s done. after everything i’ve seen.

“there you go” he coos darkly. “just relax, i have a lot of shit to tell you.” he says staring into my eyes intensely. the stare sends a heat surging through my body and i feel myself starting to get wet. if i could punch myself in the face i would. “get to it, make it quick.” i snip.

“have it your way then, i was gonna take it slow but i guess not.” he shrugs. “i’m a vampire and your my mate. thats why i went ape shit yesterday. thanks for listening to my ted talk.” he deadpans and cocks his head to the side.

even though it sounded like it was a joke, we both knew it wasn’t. my mind didn’t want to believe it, but my body knew it was true. matt is a vampire, and i am his mate.

“how? how am i your mate? whatever the fuck that is!” my voice raises in anger. did he pick me? maybe, to just to fuck around with me and tie me into all his weird vampire shit. did he really hate me that much?

“what, you think i know?!” he matches my angry tone before taking a breath, bringing his other hand up to rub his temple. “trust me, i have no idea sweetheart. if it were my choice, i’d have anyone but you. but for now, your stuck with me” he rolls his eyes. “and vice versa” he mutters.

his hand is still gripping my thigh and not a fiber of my being wants him to move it, even with all the arguing. and judging by the way he’s looking at me now, it looks like he’s stopping himself from doing more. i feel myself getting annoyed with myself for wanting him to do whatever he pleased and more.

“stop getting annoyed” he snaps. “its just the mating bond making us react to each other this way. nothing you can do about it” matt breathes in deeply and a shudder racks through him.

“what was that?” i ask weirded out by the almost animalistic behavior. “you just smell really good to me right now. i couldn’t help myself” he breathes out, eyes darkening slightly.

this man could really eat me alive if he wanted too. i shiver at the thought, but then my mind reels again. how did he know i was annoyed??.

“how did you know? that i was annoyed, i mean” you say bewildered by what being mated might entail. “now that you’re mine, i can feel your emotions almost like their my own. you can do it too, but humans aren’t as good at pin pointing it as we are.” he smirks like being a whole monster is something to be proud of and being human is childs play.

that would explain the random surge of anger earlier with chris. another wave of annoyance courses through me. he’s sooo possessive already. his words from yesterday rings through my head.

“because you’re mine.”

matts voice breaks through my silence. “but don’t worry this is all temporary” he smiles to himself. “i know a girl, and im pretty sure she can get rid of this” he gestures between the both of us. i can’t help the smile that rips through me at the good news.

“then what are we waiting for” i say impatiently.

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@cindylcuwho

@mattslolita

[supernovasteaparty]

Just Friends

Dork squad (Jervis Tetch x Johnathan Crane x Edward Nygma) Something to keep in mind when reading this is that these are actually my AU version's of the characters! Both John and Jervis and transmasc, and Jervis's physical appearance changes slightly when he's excited :3 Minors, turn away now!!! CW, TW: anatomy mentions, passing mention of pregnancy (thinking of how one of the characters can't get pregnant), literally them having a threesome on the couch, pure filth ngl <3 Word count: 6,290 | layout completely inspired by @finniestoncrane (who also wanted to be tagged. Please ignore any spelling errors 😭😭)

I was sat on the couch, reading. That was all I was doing.

Then when John came home, I hardly even gave him a passing glance. “Dr. Crane,” I said in acknowledgement of his presence, and then I went back to reading my book. 

He stopped, and out of the corner of my eye I watched as he set his bag down and turned to me. The man hummed lowly, his Georgian accent audible even through noises. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Nygma,” He said.

I looked up at him over my glasses, his face a blurry mess of flesh, blinking eyes and dark hair. 

He never spoke with me unless he needed or wanted something— or if he was in a good mood for some horrible reason or another. 

“… how are you?” I asked, slightly hesitant.

Through the blur of my eyesight, I watched what I believed to be a wide, toothy grin slowly creeping into his expression. “I’m good,” He whispered, and with that he took a long step forward; now standing at the front of the couch. 

I let out a slightly shaky breath as I set my book down, not looking away from him. “And why is that?” I asked. 

He didn’t answer.  “Where’s Tetch?” He asked.

“Your room,” I said. “Asleep,” 

John nodded, and then stood still, staring at me. I accidentally looked away, cursing myself as when I looked up he was already gone.

I heard the slide of his bedroom door opening, and I looked over. I caught the slightest glimpse of his hair and back, but he was gone before it could even register in my brain. 

After that, I tried to focus again on my book, but the soft chatter of Jervis’s voice kept pulling me out of rhythm. 

After a bit, the door opened again, and I heard the familiar click of Jervis’s shoes on the hardwood floor. I didn’t look up, I didn’t want to seem interested in whatever the hell was happening. 

“Eddie,” I heard whispered in my ear, and I jumped slightly. It was Jervis, but I heard Johnathan let out a soft laugh in response to me being startled.

I turned to Jervis. 

“What do you want now?” I asked.

“Oh—Oh! Well, I—“ He couldn’t even get the words out before he burst into a fit of giggles, his already pink cheeks turning an even deeper shade as he cartoonishly waved at his face, glancing away. His large teeth rested gently against his bottom lip, his tongue visibly swiveling against his sharp canines.  

“The Crane can explain,” He said softly, trying to lean forward as his hand reached into his own hair, coiling a thick silver strand around one of his gloved fingers, his other hand resting against the arm of the couch.

I turned to John, who moved away just as I tried to look at him. He walked behind the couch, his large hand moving to my shoulder, and then lightly tracing downward. 

I swallowed, shifting my weight as his warm breath slowly dripped down the shell of my ear. “Y’know…” John began, his voice low and husky. “Been a while since we last… “ He hand travelled lower, and then gently gripped on my belt, lightly pulling on it. 

I tried and failed to suppress the shaky whimper that left my mouth, my face becoming warm with embarrassment. I shifted again, letting out a breath. 

“Care to—Care to explain a bit more than that?” I said, attempting to look behind me. Before I could, his other hand gently rested against my other shoulder, moving down and tracing the buttons on my shirt. 

He hummed, the sound low and vibrating through my body, sending chills down my spine. “Mmm, well, as Jervis so lovingly puts it… ‘played’,” John said, beginning to unbutton my shirt. 

I closed my eyes, nodding. I knew what that meant.

They wanted to have sex.

It was a thing that had started a while ago.

I don’t remember really when it happened first, but somewhere around the time that I started living with Johnathan, Jervis came along and one thing led to the next and I guess we all somehow managed to become friends with benefits. 

Mainly what would happen was that two of us would… the word is fuck, Eddie, just say it— do things, and one would watch. Usually that person would be Johnathan, as he enjoyed sitting in complete silence and making us unnerved— that or he’d praise and guide us the entire time. 

“If you’d like, of course,” Jervis said, gently placing his hand on my arm, leaning closer. There was too much affection and attention now, and the tones of their voices were making me feel nearly ill with how, unfortunately, aroused I was getting.

I swallowed, nodding. 

“O-okay, yeah, I-I uhm,” I let out, stopping as my breath caught in my throat as Jervis climbed on top of the couch, and began helping John with the buttons on my shirt. 

“Over the hill, or here or there—“ Jervis began singing quietly. I leaned forward without thinking, and stopped him before he could start actually singing, placing a soft, gentle kiss on his lips before simply pulling away. 

His eyes lit up as his face seemed to fall a bit, his body language stuck in what looked like the middle of an exaggerated conversation. He paused, his cheeks turning even darker, now a red, as he sat  up straight, turning away. “Oh… Oh, my,” His voice, soft as ever, seemed strained and shaking. 

I went to say something, I don’t know what, but he placed his gloved hands on my face. “Do it again,” He whispered.

I kissed his lips, this time a bit more roughly, and then pulled away again; my body getting covered in chills as I felt John’s breath on the back of my neck again. Jervis’s eyes shut, his hands flapping excitedly as he turned away, a nervous half-smirk cracking across his lips.

Before anything else could happen, John hummed. 

“You two need to be separated at least once,” He whispered. “I should have him today, don’t you think?” 

Jervis nodded, as did I.

He as in likely Jervis. 

I leaned back, startled slightly by the warmth and movement of a chest behind me; I didn’t know that Johnathan had sat down. 

I gasped as John’s hand slid up to my chest, pressing down and pulling me closer to him. “Now,” He whispered, voice low and gravelly. “Are you gonna be a good sex toy and let me use you for a while?” 

I started trembling, nodding before I could even fully register what was happening. All the blood in my body rushed to a… certain piece of my anatomy, making me shift my weight in a thinly veiled attempt at covering it. 

“Aww,” Jervis let out a soft laugh as he worked to undo my belt buckle. “Look how desperate he is now,” 

My entire body felt warm as I looked away, embarrassed. I shouldn’t have enjoyed this as much as I was, my stomach doing flips as I heard Johnathan hum in agreement.

My heart skipped a couple beats as I felt John’s large hand travel up my chest and rest on my throat. “W-What uh, what’s— what are you going to uh—“

“I thought it was clear,” John whispered, voice nearly a growl in my ear. I shivered as my belt was removed from my pants’ loops; I heard as it landed on the floor with a soft clinking sound. 

“I’ll explain now,” Jervis said softly, his eyelids looking heavy as he undid his own shirt. “I’m going to watch…”

John nodded, removing my shirt. 

“While I fuck you,” He whispered, finishing Jervis’s sentence. 

My face warmed up even more, and I began to nod without thinking about what I was doing. He hardly ever would be the one doing anything to me, usually watching or having sex with Jervis instead. 

Something in my body ached for him, craving him desperately. The way he’d move his hips so harshly, so fast. The way he looked so calm, the way he held Jervis down by his hair as he practically drooled and cried from how good he was getting fucked, John praising and guiding him the entire time. 

I started whining, the idea of being fucked so good that I’d start drooling made me feel nearly like fainting; I wanted it so badly now, and I couldn’t even focus on anything other than the memory of how much ecstasy Jervis always looked like he was in when John would…

“Please,” I whimpered involuntarily, and John let out a soft laugh. 

“Please what?”

I shook my head, embarrassed that I had said anything. He hummed, nodding as his rough, callused fingers dragged down my chest. His fingernails were painted black, and my brain instantly began playing an image of his fingers buried inside of me, stretching me out, getting me ready for his—

One hand focused on my chest, his thumb rubbing circles around my left nipple, his other hand gliding down my exposed side, fingers hooking around the waistband of my pants. 

“Hatter,” He said, looking up at Jervis (who I now noticed seemed to have either spaced out or was just very entertained by what was happening, as he was drooling).

“Yes?”

“Help me remove this,” He said. “Won’t you please, hon?” 

Jervis nodded, reaching forward and pulling my slacks off from my hips. “He’s so excited…” He whispered, lightly touching my inner thigh. 

I felt lightheaded and nearly dizzy, my heart slamming in my chest as I watched him, the silver streaks in his hair beginning to fade to a soft purple. I glanced up, attempting to look at John.

My glasses were removed before I could, being set on the coffee table and out of my reach as my vision blurred. All I could really make out on John’s face were his eyes and the dark scars on his face. 

Before I could really say anything about it, John hummed, and I watched the dark shape of his mouth move as he spoke: “You wanna do this out here? Now, we cou’d always go int’a the bedroom, honey, if you’d like,”

His accent was so thick, it always got like that when he was excited about something. I couldn’t really imagine him being excited to do something like this, but maybe he was.

“We can stay out here,” I whispered, unable to fathom the idea of having to wait any longer than I’d have to already. 

He nodded, humming.

“Can— uh, can we pl-please—?” I stammered out, involuntarily bucking my hips up a bit. 

John chuckled, his hand— God his hands were so big. They were so wide and his fingers were long and— his hand moved to the waistband of my boxers, his thumb hooking underneath and snapping the elastic material against my flesh, making me jump slightly. 

“Ain’t’cha jus’ so eager?” He asked, low and steady. 

I was painfully erect, my member twitching in my underwear every time John said anything or moved at all, and what he said was making it worse. 

I nodded, the shame leaving my body when I felt gloved fingers pulling at my underwear, pulling it off of my body. I looked back at Jervis, who was the one who had removed it, as he set it on the floor and began to undo his own pants. 

“Aww,” John whispered in my ear, one hand resting a my waist, teasing me. “You’re pathetic, y’know that?” He asked, turning his head and biting lightly on my neck. I whimpered as I felt him sucking at my flesh, my exposed member twitching and leaking at the feeling.

“J-John~,” I let out, practically shaking with how badly I wanted anything at this point. Any sort of pleasure, literally any sort of touch.

He nipped at my neck sharply before pulling away, his hands sliding down my thighs and moving under them, pulling me up onto his lap. 

“Jervi,” I heard, and I watched as Jervis looked up from what he was doing. 

“Hm?”

“Could you go get the lubricant? I left it in the bedroom,” John said, to which Jervis nodded and left to get it.

The moment he left the room, John’s hand went to my throat, gripping tightly as he pushed my chin up so I was forced to look at him. I gulped as his eye came into focus. 

“Look at me, sweetie— that’s it… now, we’re gonna have a safe word, okay? I get real rough, even if I don’t intend to do so, okay?” He asked, and I nodded. 

“Good boy,” He praised, and my mouth felt dry. “Now, ‘aphorism’ is the word, okay?” He said, and I nodded.

His hand gently went to my hair and he began to pet me. “Such a good boy, ain’t you?” 

I couldn’t even say anything. I felt like my brain had melted, the praise getting to me too quickly. 

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“You haven’t hurt him, I trust?” I heard, and Jervis sat back down on the couch, handing John the bottle of lube. 

“He’s fine,” John answered, taking the bottle. “Thank you, hon,” 

Jervis giggled slightly, letting out a hum, as he looked down at me. “Aren’t you so pretty,” He said, to which my heart rate skyrocketed. 

Jervis leaned forward, the soft fabric of his gloves on my chest as he kissed me again. I reached up and lightly grabbed his face, pulling him in a bit more. 

“My heart, never depart, if you turn out to be untrue, your flesh will be left sickly pale and blue—“

I ignored him, my hand travelling absently downward, resting on his chest. I felt how quickly his heart beat, thinking distantly about how it felt maybe a bit too fast for a human.

I kissed him again, and he pulled back slightly, smiling crookedly as his teeth dug in his bottom lip.  “I had such a curious dream; it started just like this… Please,” He began in a whisper as I looked him over again, watching as his hair seemed to coil too much like a spiral. “Please kiss me yet again,” 

His eyes didn’t seem too brown anymore…

“Jerv—“ I began, but my hair was suddenly yanked, my entire body being pulled back as I gasped, feeling the burning of the stretch from one of Johnathan’s fingers inside of me.

I began to whimper, the suddenness of the feeling made it hurt a bit more than I was used to. 

“J-John!” I yelped, turning back to face him as his grip in my hair loosened. He buried his face into my neck, and began to gently kiss where he’d bitten previously. 

“M’sorry,” He said. “Just got a bit jealous from you an’ Jerv,” 

My entire body flushed, which Jervis noticed and giggled in reaction, running his hands down my stomach, the smooth glide of fabric making me feel lightheaded. 

I whined as John’s fingers worked me open, him adding a second one not too long after; my arms trembling as I moved my hand to my mouth, muffling the moans that threatened to leave me. 

As I did, Jervis reached up and pulled my hand down, tutting. “No, no,” He smiled. “No, you must make noise, pretty, otherwise we won’t enjoy it,” 

I looked away, face practically engulfed in flames with how warm I felt. “O-Oh…” I let out softly.

Jervis leaned back on the arm of the couch, completely removing his shirt. I let out a moan as John’s fingers found a rhythm, hitting an all-too-sensitive part inside me which made my body tremble.

“You’re doing so well, honey,” John said, his accent heavy and his voice a soft growl in my ear. Chill after chill rushed through me as I whimpered, biting my lower lip to keep from getting too loud. 

Jervis’s gaze followed John’s fingers as I started to relax myself a bit, pleasure flooding my body and making my limbs feel weak. 

“John,” I let out, unable to really think of anything else. 

He hummed into my ear. “Yes, sweetheart?” He asked.

“Mh, feels… mmn feels so—“ I let out a whine. “G-good…” 

My eyes fell on Jervis as he moved his hands behind his back, unclasping his bra and taking it off, setting it to the ground. 

I looked away, my mind going to slightly different territory as his body reminded me so much of…

I whimpered, letting out a moan as I realised I’d been holding my breath. “Ple-ase,” I let out, broken and breathy.

“Please what?” 

“More—“ I started, hardly getting it out before a third finger was pushed in, stretching me out a bit more; a slight burn flowing through my lower half.

I gasped, grinding down onto his lubricated fingers involuntarily. “F-Fuck!” I moaned as he worked them in and out, getting my body used to the stretch, used to the pleasure. He was so rough with them, moving so softly at first to get me used to it, and then faster and harder, making my brain spin. His fingers were so long, so big that it felt like I was being torn apart in a way that made me dizzy with pleasure.

I watched Jervis as he removed one of his gloves with his mouth, moving the now nude hand down the front of his loosened pants. 

I began to pant, pleasure engulfing my entire body as I whimpered, leaning against John’s chest. 

“Good,” He whispered. “Good boy,” 

“Ohh,” I let out, my back arching slightly. “Fuck… it’s so good, it’s so good,” I moaned, grinding down a bit more. 

John’s voice echoed in my ear. “Doin’ so well for us,” He whispered, his fingers sliding in and out of me, making me feel so full and stretched out.

Tears threatened to leave my eyes as he suddenly removed his fingers from me. “W-Wait, I—“ I started in protest, but I was quickly shushed as John moved away from me, lowering his pants.

I started practically drooling the moment he did, the blurry sight of black straps and glinting silver metal resting tightly around his white boxers, around his hips made me feel nearly faint. 

I looked away as I heard him unzip and unbutton his black jeans. The sound of his keys jingling sharply against each other as he lowered his pants, the karabiner clacking against the small plastic light up pumpkin charm he had attached to it.

The warmth of his body returned with the sound of him uncapping the lubricant bottle. He sat back down on the couch, a rough, heavy hand pushing me forward to expose myself more. 

I was able to get a better look at Jervis now, one hand in his pants as he masturbated to the sight of us, the other now cupped around my face lovingly, petting me as he muttered things I couldn’t quite understand under his breath. 

“It’ll feel so good,” He leaned in, whispering. My face felt so warm, and the coolness of his glove didn’t make it any better. “You’re so, so, good,”

I whimpered softly, kissing him back as his lips met mine, his teeth pressing hard against my lips. “Mh, Jervis, I—“ I was stopped by the feeling of being stretched out a bit more than I was used to yet, a sharp burning pain coming from my lower half.

“Ah!” I let out, my arms becoming too weak to hold me up, so I accidentally collapsed onto Jervis, my head resting against his stomach. With his gloved hand, I felt him petting my hair; he began to coo soft words of comfort and praise as I felt the warmth and roughness of John’s hands on my hips.

The pain paused for a bit, slowly fading into slight discomfort as neither of us moved; John softly massaging my lower back up to my shoulder blades. “Will it be alright for me to move?” He asked, my poor, leaking member painfully pressed between my stomach and the slightly rough texture of the couch’s cushions. I nodded, shifting my hips a bit, trying to hold myself up again. 

“Yeah,” I said, voice a lot more breathy than I would’ve liked. “You can start moving,” 

He hummed something in acknowledgment and pushed in a bit more, my breath catching in my throat as I closed my eyes. 

“That’s it…” I heard, but I honestly couldn’t even tell who had said it anymore. “You take it so well,”

My resolve broke and I fell again, this time being caught by Jervis, his hands pressed against my shoulders as he led me up, looking at me with a soft smile on his face. His right eye was blue…

Before I could focus on him any more, my body tensed up, a moan leaving my lips as Jervis let me fall a bit, him cradling me in a tight hold. He smelled like a bag of marshmallows, sweet and warm. 

John finally bottomed out inside me, my body trembling as I felt the smooth fabric of his black button-up shirt and the warmth of his stomach on my back as I heard him kissing Jervis. 

“You take such good care of him— our toy,” John muttered above me, and I heard Jervis let out a soft laugh. 

I closed my eyes, my stomach fluttering as a soft anger replaced the arousal that usually followed being completely objectified like that. “I’m not your toy, Scarecrow—“ I snapped, but my hair was roughly coiled around a hand and I was pulled painfully away from Jervis’s hold, now sitting completely upright in John’s lap, on his—

“Oh, is that right?” John began, the painted nails of his other hand digging into the flesh of my hip. He let go of my hair, his other hand sliding to grab at my hip as well. He slowly lifted me about two inches, letting me drop sharply back down on his strap. 

“Fuck~!” I moaned, leaning back against his chest, my member red and twitching. “Pl-Please, I—“

I suddenly became very aware that Jervis was watching us, and I felt my stomach and chest getting warm with the blush that covered me in embarrassment. 

I said nothing, looking away. 

“Oh, he’s embarrassed,” Jervis said suddenly, and I opened my eyes to see him closer, his gloved hand lightly tracing my chest. 

“I’m not embarrassed,” I hissed, not wanting to seem weak. “I just—“ 

“Shh,” Jervis hushed me, his hand traveling lower, resting on my lower stomach. “You don’t have to worry…”

“I— Ah~! F-Fuck,” I gasped, my body being slowly moved up and down, the thick head of John’s strap slamming slowly inside me, hitting the area just below my prostate. “John, Goddamn it~!” I moaned, closing my eyes tightly.

Jervis hushed me again. “Eddie,” He called, drawn out and in a whisper. “Look at me…”

I opened my eyes again, trying to focus on him.

The feeling of soft fabric dragging up and down on my stomach, over and over and over, the way his eyes didn’t look entirely normal anymore. “It feels so good, doesn’t it, pet?” He asked. 

I moved to say something, but I couldn’t.

I let out a whimper, nodding. Jervis seemed pleased, moving back and going back to what he was doing before I fell on him— He was fucking himself, Ed, just thinking the word isn’t the end of the goddamn world!

“John, please,” I gasped, feeling him lean back against the arm of the couch, getting more relaxed as he pulled me with him. My heart slammed against my ribcage as his hands dragged down my chest to my stomach. 

“Well, since you ain’t a toy, you can get yourself off, can’tcha?” He asked, his hands resting once more on my hips. I scoffed in an attempt to seem like it’d be easy. I moved my hips slightly, my legs weak already. 

I let out a soft moan, sliding back down.

I paused, knowing this wouldn’t do anything for me without his help. “John…”

I could feel how smug he looked.

“Yeah, hon?”

“I…” My stomach boiled with anger. I couldn't do something. I would rather die than admit it. I attempted again, the feeling of him inside me hardly doing anything for pleasure. 

I felt like crying as I covered my face with my hands. “I can’t,” I said. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”  

He lifted me slightly, my back pressed against his chest as he rested his chin on my shoulder. “Mhm,” He hummed lowly, pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting back inside, quickly setting a pace that made my stomach flip. 

“Oh— fuck!” I gasped, reaching back slightly and gripping his hair, pulling a bit. “Fuck, yeah, yeah,” I nodded, panting as he held me in place, my entire body covered in chills from how good it felt now.

It nearly burned, fading quickly away into overwhelming pleasure that made my eyes water. 

“Please, ple-ase, ple—!” I whimpered, my sounds devolving into high pitched whines that sounded more like a dog than anything. 

I felt myself clenching around him, the pleasure nearly too much to bear, my entire body feeling weak as he slammed inside me over and over and over. 

“It—“ I began, but stopped as I nearly blacked out, feeling him finally start hitting that spot inside me, my stomach coiling at the feeling. “Ah-! Fuck, please~!” I begged, shaking. 

He suddenly stopped.

“Please what?” He asked, and I could hear the smile on his lips. 

“No, no, no, please keep going, please, please,” I whined, grinding down as much as I could. Tears leaked from my eyes, whimpers leaving my chest as I scrambled behind me, scratching at his side. 

He only laughed a bit, pulling out and then slamming back inside, making me let out a yelp as I trembled. “You take me so well,” He whispered, his warm breath cascading down my neck. “Look at that,” He continued. “What a good little toy, needing my help; so easily taking the whole thing,” 

I whined, bucking my hips as I let out a strangled sounding moan. “Please,” I begged. “More, please,”

My legs started shaking, weak as he held them open. “Please,” I said, whining. “It’s so—“

He set a more rough pace, slamming into me again, more brutal this time. “Fuck, fuck, fuc—k,” I moaned, breathing shakily. 

“Are you getting close?” I heard, to which I shook my head. 

“N-No,” I let out in a gasp. “Pl-please, please keep going, please,” I begged, voice breaking. 

“Oh, good,” He said, to which I finally registered it being Jervis who was speaking. “Can I play with him yet?” 

I let out a loud whimper and my prostate was slammed into again, my heart fluttering with my stomach. “S’good,” I moaned. “So good, so go-od,”

He paused, buried deep inside me as he slightly moved me forward, sitting up a bit more. “Wh—“ I began, but he started moving inside me again, so my brain stopped working. 

I felt the smooth glide of fabric on my face, and I looked up. Jervis kissed me again, and I roughly gripped onto the cushion beneath him as I kissed back. “You can take it, can’t you?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as his hand travelled down. 

“Take wh—?” I began, but it felt like all the air in my lungs was knocked out of me as I felt him, his soft hand wrapped around my aching member. He lightly began stroking me as I whimpered, John still abusing my insides, too much pleasure, too much—

“Fuck!” I yelled, which turned into a string of soft whimpers as my limbs trembled, struggling to hold me up. I felt like I was going to die, my heart slamming in my chest as my stomach turned, my head completely empty other than the thoughts of how good I felt. 

Jervis pressed kisses onto my lips. “You feel so good, don’t you? It feels amazing, right?” He said, petting my hair as he continued to stroke my previously completely neglected cock. 

I nodded, letting out a whine into his lips. 

He shifted, letting me go for a moment as he relaxed, lowering himself on the arm of the couch a bit before—

I gasped, my hands losing their grip on the cushions as he adjusted himself, sliding my member inside of him; tight, wet warmth clamping down around me. 

He let out a soft whimper as he took my full length, John pausing for a moment to give me a little bit more stability over my senses. I held onto Jervis’s hips as I shook, letting out breathy whimpers. He was so warm. 

When I first had sex with him, I hardly lasted three minutes; his—his— His cunt,— felt so fucking good wrapped so tightly around me. I’d never felt something like that before him, and I felt like a teenager, the pleasure completely consuming me to the point that it nearly hurt to not chase that amazing feeling. 

My hips twitched, thrusting deeper into him nearly involuntarily. We both moaned, and I could feel myself leaking inside him. 

John began to slowly move again, Jervis fucked himself back onto me, and my brain stopped functioning. 

“You feel so good,” Jervis whined, and I could hear ringing in one of my ears as I panted, John hitting another sensitive spot inside me, my stomach turning. 

“Fuck,” I cried, tears leaking from my eyes as my legs trembled. John started moving faster again, lightly swatting at my thighs. 

“Are you just gonna make him pleasure himself?” John asked in my ear, voice so calm and smooth. All I could do was shake my head, attempting to thrust inside Jervis again. The drag of my shaft against the tight walls of his insides, burying the head deeper, the wetness making a soft, lewd sound as he leaked onto the couch, a small dark patch forming now.  

I started drooling, the head of John’s strap grinding heavily against my prostate, chill after chill running up my spine. Tears fell from my eyes as I whimpered. 

“Fuck, please,” I begged, shaking. I sounded pathetic, voice high pitched and trembling, weak and raspy. “Please, please, have— have mercy, please,” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna cum,” John hissed in my ear. “You wouldn’t disappoint us like that, now would you, Eddie?” 

Jervis whined, echoing his sentiment as he seemed to literally be melting underneath me, his face and body becoming more and more warm, his right eye turning into a colourful spiral as his hair twisted and shifted around as if it were alive. 

“D-Don’t,” He moaned out, slamming his hips down, my entire length fully sheathed inside him. He let out a loud whimper, arching his back as he panted. “Don’t cum yet, don’t— not yet, not— ahh~!”

I felt myself twitching inside him as I looked away, trying so desperately to ignore the coil in my stomach that became more and more loose as they used my body for their pleasure. 

I couldn’t think about it, I couldn’t focus on how fucking good it felt. How amazing it felt— how tight Jervis was, how warm and wet and tight, god his cunt was so tight, it always was, so good, so, so good. He clenched around my cock like he never wanted to let go, sucking me in, making it nearly difficult to pull out. He always begged me to finish inside him, and if I didn’t, he’d be in a bad, snippy mood for the rest of the day. 

The moment they (both him and John) knew I didn’t have anything wrong, I was fucking him raw and filling him with my cum. 

He couldn’t get pregnant, he’d gotten that taken care of years before he even became who he was now, so there really wasn’t a reason not to. 

I heard Jervis let out a breathy moan, leading it into a soft whine of his words; “Mine,” He whispered. “All mine,” As I felt his lips begin to travel down my neck, his large teeth dragging against the flesh that began to become bruised as he marked my collarbone with hickeys.

I had to ignore it, ignore how good it felt.

Ignore how brutally I was getting fucked by Johnathan. Ignore how thick and long he was, how heavily he would slam inside of me, how quickly the burn of pain when he’d hit my thighs would fade into unbearable pleasure, how precise he was with his movements, how fast he went—

I couldn’t think of how good it felt, I couldn’t think about how badly I’d been needing him to do this to me. How I’d been fantasising about it, how late at night I’d imagine him sneaking into my room, I’d imagine him kissing my neck and pinning me down, asking if I wanted him, asking if I wanted him to make me cum. I’d imagine him fucking my brains out, him making my entire body shake. 

Sometimes I would fight with him, tell him he wasn’t good at something, anything to get him to hate-fuck me so good I couldn’t walk the next day. It never worked, he never pushed me down by my hair, teasing and toying with my body until finally abusing me, hitting me, hurting me while making me drool with how good my body would feel.

And now he was finally doing it, fucking me senseless, making it difficult to think, to function. Finally making my body his, and I couldn’t think about it, I had to think of anything other than how good it felt.

“C-Can’t,” I let out, panting. “Can’t,”

He slammed deep inside, grinding his hips on mine. 

“Can’t…?” He asked, leaning forward and pressing a bite to my shoulder, his lips meeting Jervis’s as they began to kiss.

Jervis whined, pulling away and grabbing at my hair as he used me like a sex toy, fucking himself deeper than I thought he could, causing both of us to let out moans in response. 

I was crying by this point, my orgasm approaching so quickly. I was drooling over the way Jervis felt and sounded and looked, my cock painfully hard and twitching inside of him, leaking pre deep into him. 

He kept bucking his hips, the spiral in his eye moving faster than before, faster than I could focus on. “Eddie,” Jervis moaned, making it even more impossible to not focus on him. “Ed—Ed it feels so good, you make me feel so, so good,” He cried.

I whined, barely holding myself together.

I panted as I looked away, trying desperately to think of anything else, anything but how warm he was. 

“Not gonna— not gonna,” I gasped, tears leaving my eyes. “L-Last, not gonna last, not— gonna, g-gonna cum,” 

“Not yet, hon,” John said, pulling my hair lightly. “You can last a little longer,” 

“C-Ca-an’t!” I sobbed out, drooling as he grinded against my prostate. “Can’t, can’t, can’t,” I panted.

Jervis moaned, biting my neck hard as I felt his walls clenching down around me. I gasped, my eyes rolling back as I felt what I can only describe as god inside him, a spot that made me forget how badly I wanted to please the both of them, how badly I wanted to not disappoint them, how much longer I wanted to last— I grabbed a tighter hold of his hips, moving him up and down on my cock, hitting that spot over, and over, and over. 

John held me up, slamming into me as I babbled incoherent nonsense about how good I felt, how good Jervis’s cunt felt, how amazing John’s cock was inside me. 

“C-Cumming, cumming,” I sobbed, Jervis drooling underneath me, making that “uh, uh, uh,” noise that always made me feel dizzy. 

“In—Inside, please~!” Jervis begged, holding my arm. 

I let out a soft cry, collapsing on top of him as I finally let myself go; grinding myself deeper as the whole world spun, wave after wave of euphoria washing through my body as my orgasm spilled over, filling him. “Fuck,” I gasped, feeling John slide out of me. I panted, trembling as I lay on Jervis.

“You both did so well,” John whispered, petting my hair as he leaned forward, kissing Jervis on the cheek. I weakly turned to him, and John kissed my lips, smiling slightly. 

I kissed back before he pulled away, my entire body warm and covered in sweat.

I sighed, attempting to move once I finally got my heart rate back to normal.

Jervis’s legs were wrapped around my hips, holding me in place. “J-Jervis,” I said, a soft laugh leaving my lips as he began kissing me, petting my hair. 

“So good,” He praised, making me roll my eyes. 

“Jervis I have to— to get off of you,” I laughed. 

He reluctantly nodded, untangling himself from me as we both pulled away. He pressed another kiss to my cheek as we did so. 

I leaned back, trying to catch my breath.  “You felt amazing,” I said, directed to both of them. 

John hummed, nodding. “You both did very well,” His voice was back to normal, his accent still there but not as prominent. “You should both be proud a’yourselves and also go shower— I’m gonna go wash this,” He said, leaving before I could get a good look at him.

I sighed, looking over at Jervis. He was snoring.

[palmastrings]

The Seven Deadly... Rings?!?!

@nocreativityfornames you're a genius I'm just gonna go ahead and swipe this and *eats*

original post here

Essentially what if we started Nightbringer but we also had the brothers in tow in the form of rings.

No, I didn't spell check this, I'm don't write very often so excuse any weirdness. I suck at grammar and ignore spell check.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Solomon holds his hand out expectantly, presenting to you a handful of exquisite multicolored rings. 7 to be exact. Each one a familiar face, in a somewhat familiar time.

Honestly, this isn't really that astounding by any means. When living in the Devildom, you've come to expect even the most unexpected situations. The rings were probably the least surprising thing you've heard today, seeing as how you had mysteriously been thrown across time and space and landed in the Devildom... approximately 7,000 years ago. Maybe? Nobody is really good at saving dates around here, especially when the average demon lifespan stretches from now to, basically, the end of time itself. A slight over exaggeration? Again, maybe. But in your defense, in your feeble mortal eyes, that's what it may as well be.

The rings jingle in your hand as you tentatively scoop them from Solomons cold hand.

Apon first glance, they would appear to be normal rings. Pristine, each gold band is fitted with a unique colored stone matching those of the beloved demons from your normal timeline. Although, if you really focused on it, twisting the bunch of them in your palm with your fingers, you could feel how warm the metal is. It was as if someone had worn the rings before you, even though it should not have been possible, as you would be the first to bear them. Along with the warm glow of the rings, you could faintly feel an intense pulsing sensation coming from the set. Whether or not it came from what could possibly be a rapid heartbeat or the emanating pulse of horrific eldritch powers, you couldn't tell.

You go to slip them on your waiting fingers until Solomon interrupts you.

"I will warn you Mc, they were terribly rowdy before I turned them into rings, I don't blame you if you find them overwhelming to wear."

"Thanks for the warning, Solomon. I appreciate you coming all this way to help me by the way!"

"Anything for my favorite apprentice! Oh! And put in the good word for me!" Solomon winks. He turns, presumably to go and survey the Devildom of millennia ago. You're eternally grateful he went through all this trouble, not only to willingly throw himself across time and space, but to also take the time to bring along the demon brothers.

You insert each hoop onto your fingers. They fit perfectly, made just for you to wear. For a moment, there is silence. You almost begin to doubt they're even there. The only sign of anything unusual is the pulsing jewelry around your fingers, seeming to wane slowly, just until it matches your own heartbeat. Then the screaming.

"Mc! Did I hurt you at all?"

"Can you hear me?! What happened?

"AHHH, I can't believe you met me while I was in my blunder years! Wahhh!! I'm so embarrassed!!"

"Oi! Human what the hell?! What were you thinking just vanishing like that?"

"Mc, why did you leave?"

"Hon, you nearly gave me a heart attack when I heard youd gone missing! Lets go home asap!"

"..."

Suddenly, you weren't so alone in your head. A barrage of questions, sobs, and abnormal talk of urgency was flung straight in your direction. You could practically visualize the tearful Levi. The clear image of the batting white eyelashes of Mammon as he looks worried at you. Along with what's definitely becoming a new wrinkle on Lucifers face as you listen to him interrogate you. It was almost relieving to hear them speak with such familiarity to you. After being treated like a stranger not too long ago, this felt like you had brought a piece of home with you in this strange version of the Devildom.

Maybe, just maybe in the strange place, in this strange time you could make the most of it. With a sorcerer and the seven rings at your side you may just be able to tackle the newly fallen brothers of the past, the new ruling power of the Devildom, Diavolo, and finally find out why you were sent here by the one called, Nightbringer.