#but she admitted that when she first thought about it she thought about x and y (teo other colleagues that arent me)

[51voices]

Mind Over Words

Kinkvember Day 10: Mind Reading

Ex-IZONE/Soloist Kwon Eunbi x Male reader

Kwon Eunbi was no stranger to adoration. As one of the most illustrious idols in the K-pop industry, she had become accustomed to the constant spotlight illuminating her every move. The shimmering lights of fame and the intoxicating cheers of her fans filled her life with an exhilarating thrill, while those around her—managers, stylists, and bodyguards—catered meticulously to her whims. They were like loyal shadows, wholly devoted to her, and Eunbi thrived on the attention that came with her status.

But when you entered her life, it was like stepping into a different world. Assigned as her new bodyguard after a particularly harrowing fan incident, you weren’t like the others who had surrounded her. Their gazes lingered, always softened with admiration or anxious deference, each gesture a silent acknowledgment of her celebrity. But you? You were an enigma, a puzzle. From the very first moment, Eunbi sensed something unusual, even unsettling about you.

Your composure seemed unbreakable, almost otherworldly. You didn’t hover; you didn’t flinch at her biting remarks or her occasional temper. You simply stood there, strong and steady, carrying out your duties with a level of professionalism that was both maddening and captivating. Why doesn’t he react to me? Eunbi wondered, confusion and frustration swirling within her. Why doesn’t he treat me like I’m someone to be adored?

What she didn’t know was that you could hear her thoughts, clear as a voice spoken aloud. You heard her silent questions, felt her frustration, even her curiosity. But she didn’t need to know that yet. You simply stood there, impervious on the outside, knowing every flicker of emotion that crossed her mind.

Eunbi’s initial attempts to ignore you were futile. Your presence was like a constant hum in the background, steady and unavoidable. She couldn’t shake how your striking features, rugged and composed, carried an aura of authority that demanded attention—yet you didn’t wield it like others. You emitted a calm restraint that, despite your undeniable allure, made her pulse quicken in unexpected ways.

Every day, she tried to brush off these reactions, but her inner thoughts were a chaotic mix of confusion and intrigue, and you felt it all. You didn’t react, didn’t show the slightest hint that her presence affected you. And with each passing day, Eunbi’s frustration grew.

As weeks passed, Eunbi found herself caught in an emotional bind. Somehow, you seemed to know what she needed before she could even ask. When she was parched after a long rehearsal, there would be a bottle of chilled water in her hand before she even turned around. At an outdoor shoot, as the heat grew unbearable, you’d have a towel ready or a fan positioned for relief. It was uncanny, almost supernatural.

Yet, the more you took care of her needs, the more irritated she became. Perfect was a word she’d heard too often, but you embodied it in a way that felt oppressive. Why were you so attuned to her? Why did you seem to understand her unspoken needs so well? Your silence and precision highlighted her vulnerability, unsettling her more than she cared to admit. You never asked for gratitude, never expected her approval or admiration. You were…unmoved.

Her frustration simmered, and her thoughts spiraled: Does he ever make mistakes? Why doesn’t he react to me? Why does he care about everything else but my attention?

Your calm exterior held, but you were fully aware of her thoughts. Eunbi’s inner voice pulsed with equal parts irritation and fascination. She lashed out in small ways, hoping to provoke a crack in your armor. She made cutting remarks, and tossed off-handed jabs your way, but you only replied evenly.

“I’m here to take care of you, Ms. Kwon. It’s my job,” you said once, offering a towel after a particularly grueling rehearsal, your tone gentle but unreadable.

That was the crux of her dilemma—you were too good at your job. Your calmness was both a shield and a barrier. Each time she lashed out, a part of her hoped for a reaction, for some glimpse of humanity behind the stoic mask. And you felt her silent yearning. It was palpable, woven into her thoughts as if searching for proof that you weren’t just her bodyguard.

What truly haunted her was the attraction that had blossomed almost immediately after your arrival. She fought against it, clinging to professionalism. But every stolen glance—at the strength in your hands, the confident set of your shoulders under a suit, the way your jaw would tense in moments of concentration—only pulled her deeper into a world of fantasy.

God, just imagine those hands on me, she mused one day, biting her lip before catching herself. The thought startled even her, and she chastised herself immediately. But she couldn’t resist the magnetic pull that only grew stronger with each passing interaction. You could feel her fantasies drift through her mind, the haze of longing nearly suffocating. Still, you held firm.

When ignoring her desire no longer worked, Eunbi switched tactics. She began dressing more provocatively around you, telling herself it was merely her style, but she knew the intent was far from innocent. The first time she walked into the room in a low-cut top, she threw you a glance, eagerly anticipating a response.

But you merely nodded politely, eyes scanning the surroundings as if her presence were no more remarkable than anyone else’s. Her thoughts turned bitterly annoyed: Seriously? He didn’t even notice.

The next day, she wore a tight dress that accentuated her legs and hips. She swayed deliberately as she passed, hoping to break your indifference. But once again, you remained indifferent, your gaze focused on her surroundings rather than her.

Why doesn’t he see me? she fumed inwardly. She knew she was attractive. She knew the effect she had on people. But with you, it felt like she was invisible.

“Do you think this dress looks good on me?” she asked one morning, adjusting the straps with a slight smirk. The neckline dipped, framing her figure in a way she knew was alluring.

You glanced briefly. “It’s appropriate for the event, Ms. Kwon,” you replied smoothly, sensing the frustration flaring up inside her even as she kept her expression neutral.

Appropriate? she seethed inwardly, biting back a scowl. I’m practically throwing myself at him, and all he can say is that it’s ‘appropriate’?

The tension built steadily over the following weeks, until it finally reached a boiling point at a fan meeting. She sat behind a long table, surrounded by the chatter and excitement of her fans, a familiar routine. But today, her mind was somewhere else—on you.

You stood nearby, ever-watchful, a statue of unwavering professionalism. She knew you were scanning the room, focused on your duty. But amid the buzz of adoring fans, she felt a strange emptiness. You were so close, yet so unreachable, her thoughts swirling with a longing she didn’t want to name.

He can’t be this detached. He has to feel something. Why won’t he let me see?

What she didn’t know was that her thoughts, though silent to others, echoed clearly in your mind, striking like a silent plea. You remained steadfast, a lighthouse against her growing storm, guiding her while suppressing your own turbulent emotions. You knew the line between duty and desire was razor-thin, and crossing it could unravel everything.

But Eunbi’s thoughts grew louder, her mind practically screaming her frustration, her curiosity, her yearning. It was almost as if she wanted you to hear her deepest, most vulnerable desires. And you heard every word, every unspoken admission, knowing that the boundary between you was wearing thin.

Why won’t he just look at me? Eunbi thought bitterly, frustration simmering just below the surface of her practiced smile. I could be naked, and he wouldn’t care.

The thought stirred up both anger and a strange thrill that unsettled her. It was childish—a possessive cry for your attention, yet it was raw, disarmingly real. She wanted you to notice her—needed you to, more than she had ever wanted anything. Yet, as she subtly stole glances at you out of the corner of her eye, she found nothing: no hint of interest, no flicker of recognition that her heart raced in your presence.

Her dress hugged her curves perfectly, an outfit chosen with every intention of catching your eye. A silent plea wrapped in silk and lace, it clashed painfully with the stoic indifference she saw in your gaze. Just as she caught herself hoping for your attention, the laughter of nearby girls pierced through her focus, their admiration for you like daggers to her heart.

“He’s so handsome!” one of them squealed, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at you. “Do you think he’s single?” another chimed in, her tone blending excitement with hope.

Eunbi’s jaw tightened, her forced smile growing strained. They’re not here for him. They’re here for me. Why are they looking at him like that? The surge of jealousy and insecurity nearly broke her composure. What was he even looking at? They’re flat as a plank compared to me.

But what twisted the knife deeper in Eunbi’s heart wasn’t just the attention you were receiving; it was your reaction to it. For the first time since she’d met you, a small laugh escaped your lips, a polite smile brightening your features just slightly. The sight was like a slap, lighting a painful flame of betrayal within her. You had never smiled at her like that, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many subtle advancements she made. Nothing could ignite a spark in you.

Are you kidding me? Her heart raced, jealousy and anger pounding against her ribcage. He can smile at them, but not at me? The thought was painful, almost intoxicating, as if it revealed a hard truth she wasn’t ready to confront: you saw beauty in them, but not in her.

Her gaze narrowed on the girls, their laughter stinging like a taunt. They were transfixed by you, oblivious to the charge in the air between her and you, their eyes shimmering with a careless admiration. He’s mine, she thought fiercely. Not yours.

The jealousy seethed within her, tightening the knots in her stomach with each passing second. She knew she shouldn’t focus on them—or on you—but try as she might, her attention kept snapping back to the frenzied crowd. Fans clamored to catch a glimpse of her, their smiles far brighter than the tension brewing inside her heart. She struggled to maintain her facade, to plaster a smile on her face while signing autographs, yet nothing could shake the bitter realization that had taken up residence in her chest.

As she forced herself to engage with the fans ahead of her, the laughter of those girls, and the image of you chuckling at their admiration, echoed in her mind. Would she ever break through the wall you had built around yourself? And why, despite everything, did she still hope for your gaze to meet hers, even if just for a fleeting moment?

And then, her already brittle patience snapped with the next fan in line—a man whose presence was a jarring departure from the girls. A middle-aged man stepped forward, his smile wide enough to reveal uneven teeth, but it was the way his eyes lingered on Eunbi that made her stomach churn. “Eunbi-ssi,” he said, a shadow of something unsettling lurking in his voice. His gaze traveled down her body before snapping back to her face, and she forced a polite smile, wishing desperately to push the waves of jealousy swirling in her mind into the recesses of her consciousness.

“I’ve been following your career for years,” he continued, his eyes uncomfortably assessing her. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”

Great, she thought, her stomach churning in disgust. Another creep.

Eunbi clenched her jaw, masking her distaste with a polite response. “Thank you for your support.” Her voice, sweet yet strained, fell flat in the air, thick with tension. As she hastily signed the man’s poster, she mentally urged him to move along.

But the encounter was far from over. The man extended his hand with a persistence that unsettled her, the simple handshake suddenly feeling invasive. Reluctantly, she took his hand, hoping the interaction would be brief. But as his grip tightened, she felt a chill run through her—a sense of an unseen boundary being crossed. His fingers lingered too long, and he leaned in closer, invading her personal space with an oily request, “Can I get a special picture? Just between us?”

Let go, she thought desperately, panic flickering in her eyes. Why won’t he let go?

Her pulse quickened, her mind spinning as panic threatened to take over. With every second that passed, she felt more cornered, her instincts screaming for her to pull away, but his grasp tightened instead. Her gaze darted to you, instinctively pleading for a reprieve from the unwanted encounter.

Without hesitation, you stepped forward, seamlessly inserting yourself between Eunbi and the unwanted fan. Your presence was commanding, authoritative yet calm, exuding a sense of protection that immediately eased some of her unease. “That’s enough.Take your hands of Ms. Kwon before I force them off,” you said, your voice steady and unwavering.

The fan blinked, his bravado crumbling as he quickly released Eunbi’s hand. He mumbled an apology, retreating with a pale face, his previous confidence shattered. The relief that flooded through Eunbi was palpable, yet beneath her relief lingered a gratitude so profound, it unsettled her, a quiet acknowledgment that went beyond mere professionalism. You had stepped in at exactly the right moment, just when she needed you the most. It wasn’t just about professionalism anymore. It was something deeper. You had understood her discomfort before she even had a chance to voice it.

-----

Later that night, Eunbi paced back and forth in her room, her mind racing with everything that had happened. The way you had stepped in with that fan, the way you always seemed to know exactly what she needed—it was starting to feel like too much. How does he always know? she wondered, her frustration bubbling over. How does he do it?

Unable to let it go, she crossed the hall and knocked on your door. When you opened it, your expression was as unreadable as ever, but tonight, she wasn’t going to let you keep hiding behind that calm facade.

“Ms. Kwon” you said, your voice unwavering. “Is something wrong?”

Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped past you into the room, her frustration pushing her forward. “How do you do it?” she demanded, turning to face you, her pulse quickening.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“You always know,” she snapped. “You always know what I need before I even ask. How do you do that?”

For a moment, you hesitated, your gaze holding a flicker of something darker, though your voice remained steady. “It’s my job to take care of you.”

“That’s crap, you know what I’m talking about,” she shot back, shaking her head. “It’s not just your job. You know things… things you shouldn’t know.”

You stayed silent, eyes searching hers, and then finally said, “I pay attention. I notice things.”

Eunbi’s mind spun with conflicting emotions, a tangled mess of confusion and desire. Is that all it is? Could he really just be that observant?

But she knew there was more to it than that. No one had ever been able to anticipate her needs the way you did. Not her staff, not her fans—no one.

Her thoughts spiraled. How does he know exactly what I want, even when I don’t say it?

Frustration took over. “If you’re so good at paying attention,” she said, stepping closer, “then why don’t you ever...”

She stopped herself, caught off guard by her own longing. Why don’t you ever touch me? Why don’t you ever lose control?

Your gaze held hers, intense and unreadable. Taking a step closer, your presence fills the space between you with a magnetic intensity.

Her breath hitched. She was so close to losing control herself, her body trembling with a desire she’d been fighting for weeks. Yes. Finally, I’ve wanted this since the day I met you.

But she couldn’t say that. Instead, she stammered, “We... we shouldn’t. We’re professionals.”

Your lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. “Are we?”

Eunbi stepped back, trying to regain some sense of control. “We should keep this... professional. I don’t see you this way .”

You paused, as if weighing her words, and then took a step back as if to agree with her.

Her heart seized in her chest. No. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.

You turned back, eyes dark with amusement. “I think you do want this,” you murmured, your voice low.

Eunbi’s breath caught as you moved closer, your body pressing against hers. All her resistance crumbled.

“You want me to stop?” you asked, your voice low, almost teasing.

Eunbi’s breath caught in her throat as her thoughts betrayed her once again. No, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.

Her heart pounded in her chest as you reached out, your hand gently brushing her arm. The touch sent a shock of heat through her body, making her breath hitch. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could think about was how badly she wanted you to keep going, to let go of that rigid professionalism just for once.

You leaned in closer, your breath warm against her skin as you whispered, “Is this what you want?”

Eunbi’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She knew she should push you away, knew she should tell you to stop—but she couldn’t. She couldn’t fight the desire that had been building inside her for weeks.

Yes, it is. I want this. I want you.

But out loud, she shook her head, trying to hold onto some semblance of control. “We... we shouldn’t, it's wrong.”

Your lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. “Why is it so wrong?” you repeated, your voice filled with a dark amusement.

Eunbi’s body betrayed her as she stepped closer, her heart racing. Just rip my top off already. I want you to touch me. I’ve been waiting for this.

Your eyes darkened as you heard her unspoken thoughts, and for the first time, Eunbi saw a crack in your calm demeanor. You moved in closer, your hands sliding up her arms, sending shivers down her spine. And then, with a low, dark chuckle, you did exactly what she had been begging for in her mind—your fingers gripped the fabric of her top, and with one swift motion, you ripped it open.

Eunbi gasped, her body reacting instantly to the cool air hitting her skin. She stared up at you, wide-eyed, a mix of shock and thrill coursing through her. “What the hell—” she began, trying to keep her voice steady, but she was too flustered to hide how much she was enjoying it.

Your gaze never wavered as you leaned in, your lips brushing her ear. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” Your hands moved to her chest, teasing her exposed skin, and Eunbi’s breath hitched as the intensity of your touch sent waves of pleasure through her.

“I... I didn’t say that,” she protested weakly, her voice trembling. “You just... ruined my shirt.”

But her mind was screaming a different story. Finally. Oh god, I’ve been waiting for this. Don’t stop. Touch me more.

You chuckled softly, your fingers trailing over her skin. “You didn’t have to say it.”

Eunbi’s breath hitched as your hands moved across her chest, teasing her exposed skin. She wanted to push away, to tell you that this was wrong, that they shouldn’t be doing this, but her body had a mind of its own. Her heart raced as your fingers trailed over her nipples, sending electric jolts of pleasure through her.

“We... we should stop,” she said breathlessly, her voice trembling as she tried to regain some control. “This isn’t... we can’t...”

But your gaze was dark, intense, and you weren't planning on stopping. Leaning down, your lips finding her sensitive nipples, you began to suck and tease, your tongue swirling over them in a way that made Eunbi’s entire body shudder.

Oh my god, she thought, her mind spiraling. I’m so wet. Ugh just take me already... I’m so easy for you.

“Wait, stop...” she said weakly, her voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t right.”

You could hear her every thought, the conflict raging inside her as her body responded to his touch. His hands slid down her sides, slowly beginning to undress the remaining items. She gasped, her body trembling as his fingers brushed over her waist, tugging at the fabric of her pants.

“N-no,” she protested, trying to hold onto the last shred of professionalism. “We... we need to stop. ”

But you don’t stop. You know better. You know exactly what she wants, even if she can’t admit it to herself. Slowly, deliberately, you undress her, your touch firm yet gentle as you pull her pants down, along with her panties, leaving her completely bare beneath you.

Eunbi’s heart races, her mind spinning with conflicting thoughts. This is wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this. But at the same time, another voice in her head screams louder. I want you. I want you so badly. I’m so wet for you. Just take me already.

You have her on her back now, your eyes never leaving hers as you lower your face between her legs. Eunbi’s breath catches in her throat, her body trembling with anticipation as your hands slide up her thighs, parting them gently.

“Fuck” she gasps, her voice shaking as she tries to hold onto her composure. “This is too far…”

And then, your mouth pressing against her most sensitive spot as your tongue begins to tease and explore. Eunbi’s entire body jolts with pleasure, her back arching off the bed as a moan escapes her lips.

“Oh my god...” she gasps, her mind spinning. This feels so good. Too good…

Your tongue works expertly, drawing out wave after wave of pleasure as you move between her legs. Eunbi’s hands grip the sheets, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensations crashing through her. But even as she's lost in the moment, another thought pushes to the front of her mind.

If he starts playing with my nipples, I’ll lose it. I’ll completely lose control.

Hearing every word, your hands moved up her body, tracing the curve of her waist before finding her breast. You gently cupped it, feeling the weight of her fullness in your hand. Eunbi inhaled sharply, her breath hitching as your thumb brushed against her nipple. The sensitive bud hardened under your touch, and you couldn’t help but smile at the involuntary response.

With a feather-light touch, you traced the outline of her nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from Eunbi. Her back arched slightly off the bed, a silent plea for more. You obliged, your fingers now gently twisting and tugging her nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. Eunbi had unknowingly given you the key to her pleasure—a natural button on her chest that you savored with delicate attention.

Her orgasm took her by surprise, hitting suddenly and with intense force. She couldn’t hold back a loud, involuntary gasp as her back arched off the bed, a testament to the pleasure coursing through her body. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, meeting your touch with a needful urgency, as wave after wave of ecstasy overtook her.

The Idol’s mind went blank, all conscious thought evaporating in an instant as her body trembled beneath your touch. Every muscle in her body seemed to tense up and then release, a violent shudder passing through her with each passing moment. Her breathing became ragged, panting and gasping for air as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was on fire, consumed by the overwhelming intensity of her release.

“Oh my god... oh god...” she moaned, her voice a breathless, broken whisper. Her fingernails digging into your hair as she struggled to maintain some semblance of control. But it was futile, her body was beyond her control now, completely at the mercy of the exquisite pleasure coursing through her veins. Her toes curled, her legs shook, and her whole body trembled with the force of her orgasm.

"This is too much... it feels too good... I can’t stop..." Her thoughts are a mess, her body spiraling out of control as you continue to pleasure her, your tongue never letting up. Every stroke sends another surge of ecstasy crashing through her, pushing her deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

She was helpless, completely at his mercy, and she loved every second of it. Her body trembled, her mind overwhelmed by the intensity of her orgasm, but even in the middle of it, she wanted more. Needed more.

Oh god... I need you inside me..

You finally pull back, your lips glistening with the evidence of her pleasure, watching in awe as Eunbi’s body quivered, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Her chest heaved, rising and falling with each labored breath, the pinkened peaks of her nipples standing tall and proud. You had done this to her, reduced her to a trembling, gasping mess.

Standing up, your expression was unreadable as you began to undress, the room heavy with the tension that still lingers between you. Eunbi’s heart races as she watches you, her body still thrumming with desire, even after the intensity of her orgasm.

But then, suddenly, you pause, glancing down at her, and for a moment, it looks like you’re about to step away.

Eunbi’s breath catches in her throat, panic seizing her for a split second. No. No,waht are you doing?..

You turned slightly. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind screaming in frustration. Don’t you dare leave. Please. Please stay. I need you to stay.

Her lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come. She was too conflicted, too torn between her desire and the thin thread of professionalism she still tried to cling to. “W-Wait” she stammered, her voice weak and trembling. 

You turn back toward her, a faint, teasing smile curving on your lips as you slowly undo your belt. You've heard her thoughts loud and clear, and the amusement in your eyes only makes her heart race faster.

“You want me to stay?” you ask softly, your voice a low, teasing rumble.

Eunbi’s breath catches in her throat, her body still trembling with need. She can feel the heat radiating off you as you stand above her, your presence overwhelming.

Yes. Yes, I want you to stay. I need you to finish this.

As you undress fully, your eyes never leave hers, the weight of your gaze making her tremble even more. You’re toying with her now, enjoying the way her thoughts betray her true desires, even as she tries to resist.

You move back toward the bed, positioning yourself between her legs. Eunbi’s breath quickens as she feels your hands slide up her thighs, parting them gently. Her body is already responding to you, her core throbbing with need, but her mind is still at war with itself.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as it trailed down her neck and your hands slid up her body, teasing her one last time before positioning your length at her entrance. Her body tensed in anticipation, her heart racing as she felt you used her arousal to coat your member.

“No...” she gasped, her voice barely audible. “We can’t...”

Hurry up and fuck me, I need this.

As you slowly pressed inside her, Eunbi’s body trembled, her breath catching in her throat as you filled her completely. Every inch of you sent waves of pleasure through her, and even though her mind screamed for her to hold onto control, her body had already surrendered.

Soft protest escaped her mouth as her thoughts were swirling all over the place. Yes, yes, yes. This is what I wanted. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

Your movement was slow at first, each thrust deep and deliberate, drawing out the pleasure with every motion. Eunbi’s hands gripped the sheets, her body responding to every movement, her hips lifting to meet his as she completely gave in.

Slap me... slap my tits...play with it. The thought blazed through her mind, a desperate plea for more, for something to push her over the edge again. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. 

You hesitate for a moment, teasing her, holding back just enough to drive her wild. Beneath you, Eunbi’s body writhes, her thoughts growing louder, more frantic. Please, please. Slap my tits. I need you to break me.

Finally, you give her what she wants. Your hand comes down on her chest, the sharp sting of your slap sending another wave of pleasure crashing through her. Eunbi cries out, clenching tightly around your shaft as her back arching off the bed, the pressure inside her intensifies.

Oh god, yes. Yes, this is what I needed.

As you repeat the assault on her chest, your movements quicken, each thrust deep and deliberate. Eunbi’s mind is spinning. Her body trembles beneath you, her hands gripping the sheets as wave after wave of pleasure courses through her. She’s lost control, her body responding to every touch, every stroke, as you drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I need you.

You don’t slow down. You thrust into her deeper, your hands gripping her hips as you move faster, the tension between you building with every second. Eunbi’s breath comes in shallow gasps, her body arching off the bed as the pleasure overwhelms her.

“We can’t... we can’t do this...,” she whispers, her voice shaking as she tries to hold onto control. You hear her thoughts as clearly as if she’d spoken them, and you don’t stop. You can feel the way her body responds to you, the way she’s giving in completely, even as her lips whisper half-hearted protests.

Leaning down, your breath warm against her ear, you murmur, “Do you really want me to stop?”

For a moment, she hesitates, her lips parting as if to protest. Her eyes search yours, torn between her restraint and the undeniable pull she feels. Then, as her need overtakes any lingering hesitation, she gives in, her voice barely more than a whisper at first.

“Forget it,” she breathes, her voice trembling with raw honesty as her desires spill forth, unrestrained. “Just keep going. Please… just keep fucking me as hard as you can.”

Her words hang in the air, her vulnerability laid bare, yet her gaze remains fixed on yours with unguarded need. In that look, she surrenders fully, giving herself over to the moment. You feel her body respond, breaths coming quicker, her back arching to meet you as she invites each touch, every movement with an openness that only intensifies the desire between you.

With renewed intensity, you fully connected your hips, your hands sliding up her body before resting firmly on her chest. Your fingers graze her sensitive skin, each touch sparking a fresh surge of pleasure that sends her gasping, her body yielding fully to your hold. You use her chest to steady yourself, fingers pressing into her soft skin as you thrust deeper, guiding her into the rhythm that grows stronger with every moment.

As you move with a cadence that speaks of the ancient knowledge of lovers, a gasp escapes her lips, a note in the symphony of pleasure that fills the room. The rhythm is intoxicating, a steady drumbeat that resonates with the very core of your beings. But then, with a swift, powerful slap, you break the pattern, introducing a new sensation that draws a moan from her, a sound that hangs in the air like a delicate promise.

Her body responds instinctively, pressing closer, as if seeking to merge with your own. Each movement is a testament to the raw, urgent energy that flows between you, a force that cannot be contained or denied. Her soft moans grow more intense, a crescendo that builds with each shared breath. You feel her hands slide up, fingers gripping your arms, a silent plea for anchor as the pace grows faster, the dance more frenzied.

"Oh god," she murmurs, her voice a melody that harmonizes with the sound of skin meeting skin. The words are a benediction, a surrender to the overwhelming sensations that course through her. Her breath hitches, a staccato that matches the rhythm of your movements, as the pleasure builds, a wave on the verge of breaking.

With each thrust, the connection between you deepens, a magnetic pull that aligns your bodies in perfect rhythm, as if an invisible thread weaves through you, binding you together. Every touch, every moment, brings you both closer to the edge, the tension between you coiling tighter, a spring wound to the brink of release.

As you continue to thrust, you can feel the heat building between you, matching the desperate need in her gaze. Her nails dig into your chest, urging you on, as she matches your rhythm, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You can feel her body trembling beneath you, her muscles tensing as she nears her own release. The feeling of her, clenching around you, is almost too much to bear. You can feel yourself swelling inside her, ready to release all the pent-up desire that has been building between you.

"I'm so fucking close" she whimpers, her voice barely audible as she gasps for breath. You can see the anticipation in her eyes, the need for that final, shattering release.

“Wait... Pull out“ she gasps, her voice barely audible. ”don’t cum inside me,"  sounding like she was talking to herself rather than you.

But her mind betrays her, drowning out her own words. Please, fill me up. I need it. I want you to breed me. I’m yours.

You don’t slow down. Your pace quickens, each thrust deep and powerful, driving her closer and closer to the edge of another release. Eunbi’s mind is in chaos, her thoughts a jumbled mess of conflicting emotions.

“Please... pull out,” she whispers again, her voice trembling. “We... we shouldn’t... you can’t cum in me…”

But all you could hear were the relentless and loud thoughts circling in her mind I want you to fill me. I need you to cum inside me. I need you to breed me like the slut I am.

You groan softly, your hands gripping her hips tighter as you thrust into her harder, deeper, pushing her closer to the brink. You know exactly what she truly wants, even as she fights against it with her words.

“No...stop...” she gasps, her voice barely a whisper now. “Pull out...”

But her thoughts scream louder, desperate, begging: Yes. Yes. Please, fill me all the way up.

With one final thrust, you position your hips and penetrate at just the right angle, striking a special spot and sending Eunbi spiraling into a whirlwind of unrestrained pleasure. As the intensity of her orgasm builds, she feels completely enveloped by the exquisite sensations flowing through her body. Her back arches off the bed, a testament to the overwhelming ecstasy that has taken control. The thoughts of professionalism and restraint that once lingered in her mind fade away, replaced by an all-consuming focus on the indescribable pleasure that now captivates her.

A guttural cry escapes her lips as her hips buck wildly, moving in rhythm with the overwhelming surge of release. Her body, slick with sweat, trembles with each wave of pleasure that crashes over her. In this moment she is simply a being overcome by the raw, primal exhilaration of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Every touch, and every thrust propels her closer to the edge of oblivion. Your hands roam freely over her body, finding their way to the soft mounds of her breasts. Cupping them tenderly, your fingers gently knead the delicate flesh, before zeroing in on the sensitive peaks of her nipples.

As you take one taut bud into your mouth, you flick your tongue over the sensitive tip, causing Eunbi to gasp at the sudden jolt of pleasure. Biting down ever so slightly, the delicious mixture of pleasure and pain sends her senses into overdrive. simultaneously, you pinch and tug at her other nipple, eliciting a raw, visceral response from Eunbi's body. Her breath hitches, her heart races, and she is certain she may very well shatter into a million pieces from the sheer force of the sensations coursing through her.

Her mind reels as your mouth continues to work its magic on her aching nipple, while your fingers continue their relentless assault on the other. She can feel each tug, each pinch, and each flick of your tongue as if they are imprinted on her very soul. Every sensation is amplified, every nerve ending electrified, as her body is enveloped in a cocoon of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

And as if you can sense her growing need, her unspoken desire, you give her exactly what she craves. She can feel the throb of your member, filling her to the brim, each pulse sending another jolt of pleasure ricocheting through her body. As you continue to pump into her, she can feel her teetering on the edge of an abyss, the intensity of her impending release building with each thrust

Then, suddenly, she's there. The world around her fades into obscurity as she is consumed by the sheer force of her orgasm. It rips through her like a tempest, leaving her breathless and trembling in its wake. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her, a cacophony of sensations that leave her mind reeling and her body spent.

As you both come undone together, she feels your seed in every crevice inside her, each drop igniting another wave of pleasure that ripples through her. Your breathing, once ragged and urgent, begins to slow, the rhythm softening as your shared climax fades into a quiet, tender aftermath. A moment stretches between you, the intimacy lingering in the warmth of your entwined bodies. You gradually withdraw, and she’s left with a sudden, aching emptiness that sends a shiver down her spine. The absence is palpable, and she fights the urge to reach out, the space between you now filled with a longing that leaves her breathless.

You stand at the edge of the bed, gathering your clothes in silence, each movement careful and slow, as if holding back something heavy. Your gaze remains fixed on the floor, and Eunbi senses the tension in the air, an unmistakable shift between you that makes her stomach clench.

“Hey…” she started softly, her voice edged with worry. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, you didn’t respond, keeping your back to her, shoulders tense and rigid. Silence stretched between you, thick and weighted, pressing down until finally, you murmured, “I… I shouldn’t have done that.”

Eunbi sat up, her mind clearing quickly, though her body was still tingling from the intimacy you’d just shared. “What? Why not?” Her brow furrowed as she watched you, confusion tightening her chest. Does he regret it?

You shook your head, still not meeting her gaze. “I never wanted to… use my powers like this.”

“Powers?” she echoed, her frown deepening. She pulled the sheet tightly around herself, unsure where this conversation was headed. “What powers?”

You sighed, the sound long and heavy, as if you were exhaling something you’d been holding in for a long time. “I can… hear thoughts, Eunbi. I can read minds.”

Eunbi blinked, stunned. “What?” she said, a slight, disbelieving laugh escaping her. “Come on, be serious.”

But you weren’t laughing. You finally turned to her, meeting her gaze with an expression full of guilt and something even deeper, something that looked like regret. “It’s true. I’ve had this ability my whole life. I shouldn’t have used it with you.”

Her eyes widened as she processed your words, her pulse quickening. She wanted to argue, to laugh it off, to tell you that you were joking, but something about the look in your eyes made her stop. Her mind reeled with memories of all the times you’d known exactly what she needed, all the moments when you’d read her without her saying a word.

“Prove it,” she challenged, her voice soft but firm. She watched you carefully, waiting.

You nodded, your tone gentle but earnest. “Think of something. Anything. Just… something random.”

After a slight pause, she glanced around the room and landed on a small object, the orange lamp on the bedside table. She tried to keep her gaze neutral.

Your eyes flickered, and after a moment you said, “Orange lamp.”

Eunbi felt her breath catch, but she quickly raised an eyebrow, refusing to let you see her surprise. “Okay, maybe you just saw me look at it. That’s not enough to prove anything.”

A small smile tugged at her lips as she raised her chin, still feeling the warmth of your seed inside her, a tender reminder of the closeness you had just shared. The thought slipped into her mind without hesitation, unguarded and impulsive.

That was the best that I’ve ever been fucked.

You rubbed the back of your neck, your shy smile growing wider as you looked down, clearly trying not to laugh. After a moment, you met her gaze, the warmth in your eyes unmistakable. “Thank you… it was the best for me as well.”

Eunbi’s cheeks flushed a deep red as her mouth dropped open. “W-What,” she muttered, burying her face in her hands. Her blush deepened, yet as she looked up at you, the sincerity in your expression melted her embarrassment, softening her self-consciousness. The air between you felt charged, intimate, as if words were no longer needed. And then, a sinking realization washed over her, stirring a feeling of both horror and shame.

If you could hear everything… then you had heard everything.

Her cheeks flushed with a deep embarrassment, and as her thoughts wandered back to just a few moments earlier, her face burned with the realization. All those things she had thought, the raw and explicit thoughts she’d never voiced. She buried her face in her hands, barely able to look at you. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You heard all of that, didn’t you?”

You winced, nodding. “Yeah… I’m sorry.”

Eunbi’s heart pounded in her chest, a mix of mortification and anger welling up. But beneath it all, she sensed the regret in your voice, the heaviness in your words. Slowly, she looked up at you, studying the anguish etched across your face.

“I shouldn’t have used it,” you confessed, your tone thick with remorse. “I never wanted to invade your privacy like that. I… I got caught up in my feelings for you, and I crossed a line.”

Her initial embarrassment softened as she saw the depth of your guilt, the pain you seemed to be carrying. She could see how much you regretted letting your guard down, how much you wished things had unfolded differently. Instead of feeling betrayed, a warmth of compassion began to swell within her.

Sighing, Eunbi took a deep breath. “I... I don’t blame you,” she said softly, her voice more understanding now.

Your eyes widened slightly, surprise breaking through your guarded expression. “You don’t?”

Eunbi shook her head, her heartbeat still racing but her voice calm and steady. “I mean, yeah, it’s... a lot to take in. But you didn’t do anything I didn’t want. You just... knew it before I could say it.”

You looked at her, as if struggling to believe that she could be so forgiving. "But I—"

She stopped you, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re not a bad person for this. You didn’t manipulate me. I’ve wanted this for a long time. You just... heard what I was too afraid to say.”

Eunbi’s face heated again, the memory of her own thoughts flooding back, but with it came a different feeling. If you had heard her deepest desires and still felt such remorse, then maybe you hadn’t betrayed her. Maybe you were struggling, too.

“I’m not mad,” she continued, her tone soft but clear. “Embarrassed, yeah. But not mad.”

Relief flickered across your face, though the weight of guilt still lingered in your eyes. “What now? I can leave if you want me to.”

Eunbi took a moment to consider, then met your gaze with a quiet resolve. “No. I don’t want that. We can’t change what happened, but that doesn’t make it a mistake.”

She could see the uncertainty in your expression, the way you still seemed to doubt her forgiveness, but there was a hint of hope, a spark of belief.

“I don’t know if I can—”

“We’ll work it out,” she interrupted, her words firm, reassuring. “I don’t want to lose you. Not after this. We can keep it between us. It’s our secret.”

The promise settled between you, and slowly, you nodded, the tension in your shoulders easing as you stepped closer. “Okay,” you murmured. “We’ll keep it between us.”

Eunbi offered a small, tentative smile, reaching out to take your hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

-----

Months passed, and the secret between you became an unspoken bond, an intimacy shared in every glance, every touch, every fleeting moment that only you and Eunbi could understand. You had grown adept at living a dual life—professional on the surface, but connected by a private world of shared thoughts and hidden feelings. To everyone else, you were just her bodyguard: disciplined, unyielding. But to Eunbi, you were so much more.

At a sold-out concert, Eunbi danced across the stage, her presence commanding the room as fans cheered and sang along. The lights flashed, the beat reverberated, and in that sea of admiration, her focus was still somehow on you. There you were, standing by the side of the stage, your gaze steady, watching over her with unwavering vigilance. To anyone else, you were the ever-present protector, but she knew the truth hidden in your eyes.

As she danced, Eunbi found herself drifting toward the edge of the stage, closer to where you stood, her heart swelling with a sudden impulse. She locked eyes with you for the briefest of moments, and in that silent exchange, she sent a thought, simple but laden with the weight of everything she felt.

You have no idea how much I love you. I love you with all my heart.

Your reaction was instant. For a split second, your usually impassive expression faltered, your eyes widening in shock. She saw the vulnerability there, the raw emotion that no one else could see. The sight brought a grin to her face, laughter bubbling up as she saw just how deeply her words had affected you.

I finally broke you, she thought with amusement, her smile radiant.

You blinked, taken aback but slowly recovering, and then, as if to return the moment, you mouthed the words back to her, words that resonated in her mind just as clearly as if you’d spoken them aloud.

“I love you too.”

In that fleeting moment, the world around you seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in a silent, unbreakable connection. Her heart soared as she returned to the center of the stage, her smile brighter than the lights that beamed down on her. The cheers of the crowd, the energy of the performance—it was all background to the quiet words still echoing in her mind. She had heard them, felt them, and knew them to be true.

And as the music played on, those words played in her heart, over and over, a melody just for the two of you.

[sasheemo]

Long day, huh?

Pairing: Detective!Agatha (Agnes O'Connor) x Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend Agnes Agatha, lost to the Scarlet Witch’s spell, has no memory of you or the life you shared. But tonight, you have a daring plan to bring her back.

Tags: Smut, Established Relationship, Strap-ons (Rr), Car Sex

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: So, first Agatha smut! Hope it doesn't suck that bad - would love to hear your thoughts if you’re up for it 💜

Read on AO3

It’s torture, seeing her like this. Agatha, your Agatha, right there yet completely out of reach, trapped under the Scarlet Witch’s spell. You’ve been together for centuries, standing side by side through battles and blood, through the kind of love that’s spanned lifetimes. 

You were there when she first sensed something off in Westview, when she decided to investigate what was happening, and you offered to come along. But everything went south, and now she’s here, roaming around the streets of Westview every day as a ghost of herself, believing she’s someone else entirely. Every moment you see her as this rough, almost bitter stranger, this ‘Detective Agnes’, it drives a wedge through your heart. But tonight, desperation gives birth to a reckless idea: if she can’t remember who she is maybe you can make her remember.

It’a a Friday night, and the most popular bar in Westview is pretty packed, humming with a low murmur and the occasional clink of glass. 

You step inside, searching, and your gaze falls on her almost immediately. She’s right there, Detective Agnes, a rougher, possibly even quirkier version of the woman you’ve loved for centuries, sitting alone at the bar, absently nursing her drink. In the dim light, she looks as alluring as ever, though that familiar playfulness you knew is buried under layers of frustration and some sort of hard-earned dominance. And yet, you have to admit, part of you doesn’t mind it. In fact, you find yourself… intrigued. 

There’s something thrilling about this version of Agatha. Agnes is rough, unapologetically bossy, carrying that particular brand of perpetual irritation that somehow only makes her more magnetic. Not that your Agatha didn’t have these traits, but this… adaptation of her takes them to a whole new level.

You’ve always loved the way she embodied both her feminine and masculine sides so seamlessly, owning every part of herself with that perfect blend of charm, ambiguity, and raw sensuality that defies any simple definition. Agnes though, leans heavily into her masculine side, and you’re definitely not complaining. Not one bit.

You smooth down the short black dress hugging your figure, fingers adjusting the purple gemstone at your collarbone. With slow, intentional steps, you close the distance, sliding onto the stool beside her. The heavy air around her feels electric, an unspoken charge palpable even through her indifference. She’s flipping idly through a small notebook, likely filled with dead ends from whatever “case” has been haunting her lately.

You lean in, letting the bar’s low light and smoky scent curl around you both. “Long day, huh?”

She doesn’t look up right away. She lets out a sigh, flipping another page in her notebook before her gaze shifts in your direction, mildly annoyed. The moment her eyes meet yours, you feel a spark, realizing those mesmerizing blue eyes will always have the same effect on you, no matter what. 

“Would’ve liked to have a quiet drink.” she mutters, lifting her glass as if to punctuate her point. “Not exactly in the mood for small talk.”

“Good thing I’m not here for small talk, then.” You smile, tipping your head slightly, and you see her interest flicker, even if her eyes narrow.

There’s a beat of silence, her gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. She radiates that annoyed, no-nonsense attitude, but there’s something in the way she holds herself tonight that makes you wonder if there isn’t some part of her that still recognizes you, that feels the pull between you. You watch her expression, the rough angles of her face, the way she leans back, sizing you up with all the caution of a predator who’s just discovered someone bold enough to trespass.

“I don’t think I know you.” she says finally, a challenge in her voice.

Your smile doesn’t falter and you lean in just a little closer, enough to catch a whiff of her. Agnes carries this scent of cold air and something darkly earthy, stark and distant. It’s a sharp contrast to Agatha’s usual rich, heady fragrance, the kind that clings to your clothes and fills the room long after she’s gone. But somehow, this raw, unfamiliar scent only adds to her allure, drawing you in deeper. 

“Guess that depends on what you think you know.” your voice drops to a low, almost mocking purr, a faint smirk playing at the corner of your mouth. You hold her gaze, letting the challenge hang in the air between you, your eyes glinting with just enough mystery to keep her guessing.

She lets out a quiet, humorless laugh, but something in her eyes shifts, something curious, as if you’ve stirred something in her she can’t quite place. She looks at you a beat too long before shaking her head and turning back to her drink, as if trying to ignore that spark.

You watch her for a moment, her fingers curling around the glass, her body language guarded, closed off. But there’s that trace of interest, the smallest crack in her armor. She’s intrigued, even if she won’t admit it.

She might be Agnes right now, but you still know how to push her buttons “Looks like you could use a distraction, Detective. I’ve heard it’s been nothing but dead ends for you lately.” you murmur with a sly smile.

Her hand pauses on the glass. The annoyed look is back, but this time it’s different, that reluctant curiosity now obvious on her face. She sets her glass down with a thud, meeting your gaze head-on. “Careful, doll. I don’t do well with strangers thinking they know more than they should.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You raise your hand, as if in surrender. “I just happen to know that sometimes the best way to clear a clouded mind is a little… fun.”

At that last word you can see her tense up, her shoulders straightening, gaze sharpening. A hint of a smirk crosses her face, but she quickly tamps it down. Agnes may be all business, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes that’s raw, hungry.

“Dance with me.” you say softly, your fingers reaching out to brush the cool glass of her drink. “Who knows, might be exactly what need…”

She lets out a soft snort, like she’s about to dismiss you, but then she pushes back from the bar. Standing, she adjusts her flannel shirt, slipping the small notebook into the inner pocket with a quick, practiced motion as her dark eyes stay trained on you with an intensity that makes the air thicken. She’s a predator through and through, and for a moment, you feel the weight of her gaze like a physical thing, binding you in place.

She holds out a hand, and you take it, feeling her strong fingers and the roughness of her skin against your own. She pulls you toward a crowded corner of the bar where people are already moving to the low, steady beat thrumming through the room. Dim lights cast a warm, hazy glow, bodies swaying close around you, amplifying the charged atmosphere.

Agnes holds you with a firmness that’s almost possessive, both hands at your waist. Her gaze locks onto yours, and in this moment, she’s both a stranger and achingly recognizable, the rough edge of Agnes mingling with the soul of Agatha beneath. Every inch of her exudes assertiveness, her energy powerful and magnetic as her hands rest on your body with unbreakable certainty.

The dance starts slow, a sway more than anything else, but as the tension grows, she pulls you a little closer. Her gaze flickers down to the necklace at your collarbone, the deep violet stone a stark contrast against your skin. You catch the faintest twitch in her expression, her eyes darkening as she lifts her gaze to meet yours again. There’s a hunger there, a dangerous, simmering intensity that speaks of possession and intrigue.

“You’ve got a strange way of introducing yourself.” she murmurs, her voice low, carrying an edge of danger. “Most people don’t… walk up to me like this.”

You lean in, your voice a whisper against her ear “I’m not ‘most people’, Detective.”. You let that last word linger, savoring the irony of it, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you think of the illusion she’s wrapped up in.

She chuckles, a rough sound that vibrates through you, and her hold on your waist tightens, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric. “Maybe you’re just a little too bold for your own good.”

You don’t bother to reply, feeling the intensity between you coil tighter as her hand slips around to the small of your back, pulling you firmly against her. Her gaze holds yours, dark and fierce, that rough, predatory edge simmering into something more primal. The dance transforms, becoming less about the music and entirely about the electrifying connection between you, every look and touch stoking the fire higher.

You press closer, letting your hips grind against hers in slow, deliberate circles, matching the pulsing rhythm that fills the room. Each movement is calculated, provocative, testing the limits of her restraint. You can feel the tension radiate through her hands as they grip your waist, and her breath seems to hitch every time your body sways against hers.

In the dim light, shadows fall across her face, but her eyes glint with a deepening hunger. You reach up, one arm slipping around her neck as your fingers trace along her skin before threading into her hair. The contact is intimate, possessive, and she leans into it, visibly captivated by the press of your body and the brush of your fingers. With a mischievous smile, you let your other hand glide up her face, fingertips trailing along the line of her jaw as you bite your lip, savoring the spark of control you have over her. 

In an instant, something snaps. Agnes moves with a swift, unrestrained urgency, her hands locking onto your hips as she spins you around, pulling your back against her with a possessive force that steals your breath. Her body presses flush against yours, fitting perfectly, her grip on you strong and unyielding.

The rhythm of the music seems to fade as she matches your movements from behind, grinding into you in time with your slow, rolling pace. The friction between you is scorching, each press of her hips intensifying the heat building between you. Her hands slide along your waist, her fingers digging in as if anchoring herself to you, claiming every inch of space between you.

With Agnes pressed firmly against your back, one of your hands finds its way behind her neck once again, fingers weaving into her hair as your bodies move together, grinding in sync to the steady beat. The desire simmering between you is overwhelming, each movement intensifying the tension coiling in your core.

But as her grip stays firm on your hips, you become aware of something else, something hard pressing insistently against you. The firm, unmistakable pressure against your ass makes your breath catch in your throat, the perfect trigger for a molten rush to spread through your veins.

You glance over your shoulder with a smirk, voice low and teasing. “Is that what I think it is, Detective?”

The smug grin spread across her face makes it clear she was waiting for your reaction, every inch of her expression dripping with satisfaction. The look only fueling the heat pooling between your thighs. Her fingers travel up your sides, leaving a trail of sparks across your skin. She grazes just beneath your breasts, her touch light but deliberate, the fabric of your dress doing little to dull the fire she ignites. 

“Behave.” she whispers, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. There’s an edge to her voice, rough and commanding. “And maybe I’ll reward you.” she continues, a low purr full of promise.

But you’re here on a mission, not to behave. Definitely not to behave.

Letting the music and her warmth embolden you, you reach back with your free hand, fingers slipping between your bodies to trace a slow, tantalizing path downward. She doesn’t stop you, if anything, she presses in closer, her breath hot against your neck.

Your movements halt for a split second as your fingertips brush the cool metal of her belt buckle, a shiver running through you at the sensation. Biting your lip, you continue your descent, fingers tracing slowly along the rigid line of her zipper, feeling the unyielding heat straining against it. When your palm finally presses against her, you can feel the hard, thick bulge beneath the fabric, and the sensation sends a surge of desire straight to your core. A low, breathless moan threatens to escape, and you barely hold it back, relishing the sensation as the need builds, leaving you aching for more.

Your fingers trail along her length teasingly, taking your time, and you feel her body tense behind you, hear the soft, low growl in her throat. She drops her forehead to your shoulder, her breath rough as you continue your movements.

You tilt your head back, allowing her see the satisfaction in your eyes, a look you know will get to her. Her breath catches as your fingers continue to tease her mercilessly. “Mmm” you hum with deliberate appreciation. “I knew you’d be… impressive.” you murmur, voice low and dripping with praise.

The effect is immediate, and exactly what you’d hoped for. Her nails dig into your waist, her restraint slipping further as a husky sigh escapes her. She presses into you and raises her head to meet your gaze, the challenge in her eyes flaring, daring you to push her further. 

You’ve always loved how, deep down, Agatha is so desperate for praise. She always had that little spark of pride that flares with each admiring touch, each appreciative word. But with Agnes, that need seems to linger closer to the surface, raw and unapologetic. In this form, she practically soaks up every word, every look of admiration you give her, like she’s reveling in the attention.

She’s holding herself back, barely, and you can feel the restraint beginning to crack, the thrill of it washing over you as she takes one grounding breath. “Keep that up…” she mutters, her tone both a warning and an invitation, “and you’ll see just how impressive I can be.”

With her words still in the air, she thrusts her hips forward, grinding firmly against your hand so you feel the full, hard length of her strap straining through the fabric of her pants. Simultaneously, one of her hands moves to your throat, fingers curling possessively around it in a strong, yet gentle, grip. Instinctively, you arch into her touch, pressing closer, wanting to feel every inch of her as she is pushing against you. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you can’t hold back the moan that slips from your lips. 

Her body freezes at the sound, and for a heartbeat, everything is still. Then, without a word, she grabs your hand, her grip firm and unyielding as she pulls you toward the exit. You can barely keep up with her long strides as she navigates through the bar, her silence and focus only heightening the anticipation that’s been building between you. The moment you step outside, the cool night air hits you, sharp and bracing, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through your veins.

Agnes doesn’t pause as she leads you across the dimly lit parking lot, her hold on your wrist commanding, purposeful. But just as you near the shadowy corner where her car is parked, she suddenly turns, and with a fierce intensity, she presses you against the rough brick wall of the bar. The shock of the cold surface behind you only fuels the fire inside, and before you can catch your breath, her mouth is on yours.

The kiss is raw, unrestrained, her lips claiming yours with an urgency that’s nothing short of devastating. Her tongue parts your lips, exploring with a fierce hunger that’s both intoxicating and overwhelming, each movement igniting something hotter, deeper. She moves against you with a possessive need, her hand tangling in your hair as she tilts your head back, deepening the kiss even further.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” she mutters against your lips, voice thick and dripping with need. Her other hand moves down to grab your ass, pulling you against her, her grip rough and unapologetic. You can’t hold back the gasp that escapes you, the thrill of it leaving you breathless.

Your hands find their way to her waist, fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt as you pull her closer, every inch of her body pressed firmly against yours. She tastes like whiskey and something darker, something that only fuels your desire, making you want more, need more. 

“Teasing me like that all night… you knew exactly what you were doing.” her voice is almost a growl against your lips, her frustration and need laid bare, her words punctuated with another possessive press of her hips.

Your heart races, and you find yourself grinning through the haze of desire. “Maybe I did.” you whisper, a daring edge to your tone.

Her smirk deepens as she leans in, mouth brushing against your ear. “Good.” she breathes “Because now… you’re mine.”

The intensity of her words leaves you dizzy, every nerve lit up, aching, ready for more. She slides a leg between yours, pressing firmly against you in a way that makes your instantly whimper. The sudden pressure tugging at your last restraints, making it impossible to hold back. You pull her into a fierce, consuming kiss, your mouths crashing together, hot and unrestrained, her taste filling all of your senses.

With a deliberate move, you catch her bottom lip between your teeth, biting down just hard enough to pull a throaty moan from her. The sound makes something inside you snap, a fire igniting that feels like it’s burning you from the inside out. You let your tongue glide over the spot you just bit, slow and teasing, savoring the slight tremor that runs through her in response.

Your eyes meet hers, hooded and dark with lust, each breath mingling as you hold her gaze, refusing to look away. “I want you to ruin me.” your voice is barely a whisper against her lips, but every word is thick with hunger. You let the desire in your eyes say the rest, the intensity of your gaze leaves no room for doubt, a challenge and surrender all at once.

You watch the way her pupils dilate, her eyes flashing with something feral and ravenous. Without another word, she grabs your hand again, leading you the last few steps to her car, parked in the shadowed corner with only a few other cars nearby.

As you near the car, you instinctively move toward the passenger side, expecting her to get in and drive you to her place at speed light. But Agnes doesn’t head for the driver’s side. Instead, she stops just behind you, her presence looming as you reach for the passenger’s door handle.

“Other door, doll.” she murmurs, her voice dripping with intent. A shiver runs down your spine as the implication sinks in. You glance over your shoulder, finding her gaze steady, intense, and unmistakably clear. She’s not planning on taking you anywhere.

You release the handle, heart racing as you step to the rear door, her gaze burning into you with every move. Inside of the car, the familiar scent of leather mixed with something distinctly “her” fills the small, darkened space. Agnes follows, sliding in close beside you, shutting the door to enclose you both in a cocoon of shadows and anticipation.

The air is charged with an unspoken understanding as her hand finds your bare thigh, fingers pressing possessively as she leans close, breath warm against your cheek. There’s a pause, enough to let you savor what’s about to unfold, before she brings her mouth to yours, claiming you with the raw hunger that’s been simmering all night.

Her hand starts to move in a slow, tantalizing journey upward, fingers tracing your skin and slipping beneath the hem of your dress, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. A soft moan escapes you, muffled against her mouth as her touch becomes bolder.

As her fingers graze your inner thigh, both firm and unbearably light, a whimper slips out of your lips. She pulls back just enough, gaze momentarily dropping to where her hand is inching closer to where you need her most, her breathing heavy as she watches you unravel beneath her touch.

Each slow, deliberate movement seems meant to drive you wild, her smirk making it clear she’s relishing each shaky breath you take. Without breaking eye contact, her hand ventures further, until her fingertips reach your clothed core, brushing against the patch of wetness that is seeping through the fabric. Her touch sends a surge of pleasure through you, hips arching as you crave more. She lets out a low, pleased hum, leaning close as her mouth grazes your ear.

“You’ve been waiting for this all night, haven’t you?” she whispers, her voice dripping with mockery and satisfaction, every word laced with a condescending edge that leaves you trembling. One of your hands grips the leather seat beneath you, nails digging in as you brace yourself, as the other slips between your legs, pushing aside your panties in a bold, undeniable signal. Agnes’s gaze flickers with mischief, her lips curving in a smirk at your willingness, at the silent plea in your eyes.

“Look at you…” she murmurs in that low, almost scolding tone that makes you clench around nothing. “Such a needy pet.” Her fingers finally dip down to graze your drenched folds, now exposed to her touch. Her fingers glide up and down with ease, a deliberate slowness that leaves you panting, every movement igniting raw need within you.

“Mm, so wet for me.” she whispers to herself, pressing her fingers a little firmer, coaxing a soft moan from you. Your grip tightens on the seat as your breathing grows ragged, her touch leaving you helplessly craving more, every nerve under her control.

Her movements are teasingly, atrociously, slow. An impatient thrill rushes through you, impossible to ignore, and without a second thought you straddle her lap in one swift motion. As you settle onto her, your dress rides up around your hips, baring more skin as your legs fall on either side of hers, bracketing her firmly on the back seat. Agnes’s eyes widen in surprise, excitement unmistakable as her hands find your exposed thighs, fingers pressing into your skin as you begin to grind against her.

The angle presses her strap perfectly against your core, each movement sending a pulse of pleasure as you rock in her lap, the coil in your lower abdomen growing tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. A low growl escapes her as she watches you take what you need, movements relentless and hungry.

Lost in the moment, you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into a kiss that’s messy, unrestrained, moans spilling shamelessly between your mouths. “Fuck… I need you.” you murmur, hips rolling harder in her lap, grinding with a desperate rhythm that has your heartbeat racing. You feel her cock press on your clit through her pants, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if you might come just from this.

But Agnes has other plans.

Her hands slip from your waist, leaving you whining at the loss of contact as her fingers find the buckle of her belt. She undoes it with slow precision, followed by the button and zipper of her pants, her gaze locked with yours for the whole time, challenge flickering in her eyes as she smirks.

Her hand slips between your legs once more, sliding over your sensitive core, fingers teasing your hole as if to confirm just how ready you are for her. You bite your lip, completely unable to contain yourself. “Please.” you beg, voice low and trembling.

The smirk that crosses her face is dark, satisfied, as though she’s savoring every word, reveling in how desperate you are to have her inside of you. Desperation starts to kick in as your hand moves over hers, guiding her fingers between your folds, desperate for the friction she’s barely giving you. You grind against her hand, each movement sending sparks through your body as you cling to the delicious, aching need building inside you. Your breathing is ragged, and you can barely focus, until you catch sight of her other hand moving down to her waist.

With a fluid motion, Agnes reaches into her boxers, freeing her strap. The anticipation and the sheer intensity of the moment making your breath catch in your throat. As she draws it out, you take in every inch, noticing how it’s bigger than what Agatha would normally choose, yet not the biggest she’s ever ruined you with. But there’s something about the way she holds it, about the way it fills her hand, that has a rush of arousal pooling low in your stomach.

You swallow hard, desire flaring in your eyes as you let yourself imagine how it will feel inside of you, stretching you, abusing your needy hole. Agnes doesn’t miss your reaction, her smirk deepens, that predatory, knowing look in her eyes as she catches you staring. She shifts her hips, letting the strap press against your inner thigh, teasing you with what’s coming.

Her voice drops to a murmur, gravelly and low. “Think that pretty pussy of yours is ready to take it, doll?” she asks, tone both a tease and a command, daring you to say otherwise.

Without hesitation, you meet her gaze, biting your lip, eyes blazing with need. “Yes.” you whisper, breathless. “Fuck yes.”

A shiver runs through you as Agnes aligns herself, the tip of her cock pressing teasingly at your entrance, one of her hand resting firmly on your hip, grounding you. Slowly and deliberately, she begins to sink into you, stretching you inch by inch. A soft, breathy moan escapes you as the fullness sets in. Your fingers dig into her shoulders, clinging to her, every nerve ending lighting up with raw pleasure.

Agnes watches every reaction with a possessive gaze, clearly enjoying the way your body responds to her. She pauses, just for a second, letting you adjust. “Just like that. Mm, I wish I could feel that tight cunt wrapping around me. I bet it would feel so good.” she murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction.

And then, with an agonizing slowness, she presses further, filling you completely until there’s nowhere left to go and she’s buried deep inside. The feeling of fullness settles within you, every inch of her stretching you in a way that leaves you teetering on the edge of overwhelming pleasure. Your gaze drops instinctively to where your bodies connect, where her strap disappears into you, a sight that sends a deep, pulsing ache through your core.

But as you look down, your eyes catch on something else. The purple gemstone of your necklace, nestled against your skin, begins to glow, casting a soft, pulsing light in sync with the pounding rhythm of your heart. A slow smirk spreads across your lips, it’s almost time.

You teasingly wiggle your hips, signaling that you’re ready, craving the friction only she can provide. Agnes tightens her grip on your hips, nails digging into your skin. She meets your challenge, leaning forward just enough to capture your mouth in a deep, consuming kiss. In the heated clash of tongues and teeth, her hips begin to move, pulling back slowly before thrusting forward, filling you again.

Her pace is torturously unhurried, letting you feel every second, watching the way your face reflects each wave of pleasure. After a few measured thrusts, her hands slide down to grip your ass, fingers kneading your skin before delivering a sharp, satisfying spank that sends a shock of pleasure through you. A gasp slips from your lips but, before you know it, her hips have stilled and she’s watching you with a provocative glint in her eyes.

It dawns on you that she wants you to move, to put on a show just for her. You hesitate, breath catching, and her voice drops to a low, rough murmur as she smirks. “Come on doll, you gotta work for it. Let’s see how you bounce for me.”

Her words ignite a fresh wave of arousal and, taking a steadying breath, you start rolling your hips. You move slowly at first, savoring the stretch but it doesn’t take long before you start lifting and sinking your full weight down onto her, each movement drawing a low hum of approval from her lips.

Lost in the rhythm, you quicken your pace, each bounce bringing you down harder, making the base of the strap pressing firmly against her clit. Her hands guide you, watching you arch and take her deeper and deeper, her gaze full of admiration and raw desire. 

The car fills with the wet, needy sounds of your arousal as she fills you completely. Your breaths turn to soft, broken moans, mingling with curses spilling from your lips. “F-fuck… Aggie…” you stammer, the familiar nickname slipping out before you can catch it. “Feels so… so good.” you murmur, half-lost in the haze, voice thick with need as you ride her harder, body pressing into her with abandon.

Agnes’s eyes flash, and for a split second, you wonder if she’s even noticed the slip or if she’s choosing to ignore it, letting it pass without breaking the intensity of the moment. Her grip tightens, voice dropping to a rough whisper that sends a shiver down your spine “Good girl… you’re taking me so well.” One of her hand slides up your back, nails scratching your skin and leaving red marks under your dress. “This is exactly what you were made for, isn’t it?”

Her words ignite something deep inside of you, urging you on as pleasure builds with each movement, your head tipping forward as you release a shameless moan. Your steady, rhythmic bouncing sends waves of pleasure radiating through you, each one stronger than the last, the friction inside you maddeningly perfect. You can feel your own wetness slickening each movement and dripping down your thighs, the glide of her strap effortless as she pushes deeper, unrelenting.

Agnes is utterly captivated, her gaze darting between the raw expressions of pleasure on your face and the sight of her strap disappearing into you. She drinks in every movement, every tremble, barely able to restrain herself.

As if sensing her focus, you open your eyes. You catch her gaze and stare right into her as you bite your lip, slowly and purposefully sinking down onto her cock, daring her. And that’s all she needs.

One hand wraps firmly around your throat, grip strong and commanding, while the other moves to your hip, pressing you down on her lap. For a moment, everything is suspended, you’re pinned under her gaze as the intensity of both the pressure at your throat and the deep ache within makes you shudder, caught between pleasure and anticipation.

Then, without warning, her hips snap up, driving into you with a devastating shove that forces every ounce of breath out of your lungs. She thrusts hard and deep, filling you completely, each movement unrelenting and precise, striking that spot that has you gasping and moaning uncontrollably.

Your hands clutch at her shoulders, desperate for some anchor as she pound into you without mercy, driving you relentlessly toward the edge. Your eyes flutter shut in overwhelming pleasure, but her grip tightens on your throat, pulling you back. “Eyes on me, pet.” she growls, voice low and commanding. “You begged me to ruin you. Now, look at me while I give you exactly what you asked for.”.

You force your eyes open, and the instant they lock onto hers, her pace quickens. The smirk on her face is a mix of dominance and admiration as she keeps pushing you further with every movement. The feeling is all-consuming and, as she continues, you feel yourself surrender completely, helpless under her control, barely holding on as pleasure engulfs you.

Her hips are snapping forward with an intensity bordering on devastating, her feet planted firmly on the car floor, adding force to each thrust. Her hand finds its way between your legs once more, fingers moving in practiced circles over your sensitive clit, coaxing you to the brink.

The purple stone around your neck pulses brighter as your orgasm builds, filling the car with an otherworldly glow that syncs with the rhythm of Agnes’s relentless movements. 

“Mmm, I missed this… I missed you.” the confession slips out you in a raw whisper. For a second, Agnes’ expression falters, something flickering in her eyes that seems to recognize the truth. Before she can react, the light from the stone intensifies, flooding the space between you with a bright, shimmering glow. Her gaze drops to the gemstone blazing against your skin, entranced as though the light itself is unraveling something within her.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you seize the moment and murmur the spell.

Ancient Latin words leave your lips like a quiet chant, each syllable carrying the force of longing and magic, woven with the raw passion building between you. The words wrap around you both, charging the moment, and as the final word slips from your mouth, she gasps like someone just knocked all the air out of her lungs. Agnes’s eyes meet yours, and in that instant, you know the veil has been lifted.

Agnes is gone and Agatha, your Agatha, is back. The full force of who she is, and who you are to her, rushes back all at once. For a moment, Agatha simply stares at you, the love of her life who broke her from that maddening spell… on her lap, strap buried deep inside you. The sight renders her speechless, her expression a mix of wonder and fierce devotion as she processes what’s happened.

Finally, her voice returns, smug and rough yet laden with emotion. “So, this is your idea of a rescue mission? Can’t say I mind, sweetheart.” She leans in, breath ghosting over your lips as her fingers trace your cheek, gaze softening though hunger remains.

You suppress a moan as her hips shift involuntarily, pushing deeper, and she gasps, realizing the full impact of the spell being lifted. She can feel you now, all of you. Every slick, heated movement as she fills you, every pulse of pleasure passing through you both in sync. The raw feeling of you, tight and warm, clenching around her cock, sends sudden jolts of pleasure through her. The boundary between you dissolved completely.

“Fuck… I can feel you again.” she murmurs, voice thick with awe and desire. Her voice drops, thick with satisfaction and yearning. “I’ve waited too long for this, and now… now you’re all mine again.”

Her breath catches, and her hands tighten on your hips, guiding you as she thrusts up with renewed purpose, as if proving to herself that this moment is real, savoring every second of this reconnection. Her eyes glint with pleasure as her nails dig into your skin, pulling you down harder with each thrust, her control slipping as she begins to feel herself approaching her own edge.

A ragged growl escapes her as she whispers against your ear, “You’re still so damn tight, sweetheart. Do you know what you’re doing to me?” Her breath shudders, and a smile plays on her lips as she admits, “I’m already close too… After all this time, I don’t think I can hold back.”

The rhythm between you intensifies as her hands roam over your body, holding you close as she loses herself in the feeling of being truly connected again. You’re nothing short of a moaning mess as her voice guides you closer to the edge with her, whispered praise and promises mingling with the tension building in both of you, pushing you both to the brink.

Agatha is fucking you at an unforgiving rhythm, the intensity blurring everything else. Her gaze never leaves you, watching you come undone as you both reach the edge, every sensation building to a breathtaking crescendo.

Soon, her rhythm turns erratic, her restraint fully unraveled. Her eyes bore into yours, dark and fierce, filled with desire and something deeper—a yearning that transcends this moment alone.

“Mm fuck baby… yes, just like that…” she murmurs, breathless, almost reverent.

Your thighs start to shake, each movement pushing you closer, and you can barely form words as the pleasure tightens, an unbearable ache. “Ah fuck Agatha… d-don’t stop.” you gasp, voice trembling. “Fuck fuck fuck…” you stammer with each of her relentless thrusts until your voice breaks, overcome by waves of sensation crashing through you.

The car is filled by the sound of your low, breathy moans, mixing with Agatha’s rough, primal groans, all blending together as her hands slide up your back, possessive, grounding, bracing you for what’s to come.

You’re so close, and you know she is right there with you, her body tensing as she growls, “Come with me, now.” Her voice thick, dripping with desire, her words pushing you over the edge.

Your body arches instinctively as you shudder, every nerve aflame as waves of pleasure wash over you. Your head tips back, unable to hold back the cries escaping your lips. Your thighs twitch uncontrollably, your hips moving wildly on Agatha’s lap as your walls clench around her cock, releasing all that built-up tension in one of the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever experienced.

Agatha’s hips snap up one last time, her breath catching as she reaches her own release, her hands pressing you close as she gasps. “Mine… all mine…” her words, raw and filled with emotion, resonate through you, pulling you even deeper into the moment.

Your bodies tremble together, chests heaving, hearts racing as you slowly come down from your high. She holds you there, her hand sliding up to cradle your face, her eyes softer but still burning as she meets your gaze. For a long moment, neither of you speaks, savoring the afterglow, feeling completely and utterly entwined.

Slowly, she leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, lingering kiss, one that holds all the love and longing she’s felt, buried beneath the spell, and everything you’ve both been waiting to express. Her mouth moves over yours with fervor, a silent promise in every brush of her lips. 

A tear rolls down your cheek as emotions overwhelm you, but Agatha notices, her thumb gently wiping it away as she smiles against your lips. Her expression is soft and filled with gratitude as she holds you close, her hands tracing over your skin as if trying to commit every inch of you to her memory.

“Thank you, my love.” she whispers, voice thick with feelings. Her hand cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as she finally, reluctantly, begins to pull out. The sudden emptiness leaves you gasping softly, a shiver running through you at the loss, but before you can fully react you’re wrapping your arms around her, holding her close, grounding yourself in her warmth and presence.

Agatha’s hand slides down your back, comforting, reassuring. She presses a soft kiss to your temple, murmuring “It’s okay. I’m here now.” She pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her features gentle yet fiercely protective. “Let’s go home.” she says, her tone pure tenderness “I won’t ever let anything take me away from you again, I promise.”.

She holds you close for one last intimate moment, while her words linger, solid and true. With a soft smile, she shifts and tucks away her strap before buttoning up her pants and fastening her belt, her eyes never leaving yours, filled with affection and satisfaction.

Once she’s ready she turns toward you, her hands moving to adjust your dress, her touch both careful and intimate as she smooths the fabric sliding it back into place around your waist and hips. Her hands linger, brushing along your sides in a way that makes your heart flutter.

Agatha opens the car door, stepping out first, leaning back to help you out of the car. She guides you with a steady hand as she opens the passenger door and, once you’re settled in the seat, she closes the door gently, making her way around the car and slipping into the driver’s seat beside you.

Agatha reaches over, her hand resting on your thigh as she leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. With a final squeeze of your thigh, she starts the car, guiding you both into the night. In the quiet space between you, there’s a shared understanding that this is the beginning of a new chapter, together, with nothing left to keep you apart.

[ellecdc]

spiked woes and revenge

poly!darksun x fem!reader who is slipped a love potion [2.1k words]

prompts: from my darksun disciples @butt3rnugg3t : "darksun (I'm obsessed and I'm not sorry) with a reader who gets slipped a love potion without knowing?", as well as @underoospeterparker : "could I request poly!darksun x reader where they're both really protective over her"

CW: drugging someone, anxiety and concern, friends responding perhaps violently, hurt comfort, hateful and disgusting men being publicly shamed :)

James and Barty were just making their way up the stairs to the 7th year Gryffindor boys dormitory when they came upon a peculiar sight.

The door - which was notoriously ajar should any number of friends or acquaintances want to drop by (with the exception of first thing in the morning when they were dressing for school, the end of the day when they were getting ready for bed, or when there was a very pointed tie hanging by the handle) - was not only closed, but there were the telltale plumes of smoke indicative of a potion being brewed within the dorm room walls trailing beneath the ancient wooden door. 

“But what if he doesn’t like me?” Came your muffled voice then; painted with worry and…tears? 

“Hey, it’s alright, Trouble.” James heard Sirius counter, though he didn’t miss the anxious tilt of his voice. “You’re impossible not to like.”

“You know who likes you an awful lot?” Remus added then, though it sounded as though his attention was split between you and whatever else was happening in the dorm room. “James and Junior.” 

“So much, Y/N.” Lily agreed quickly, before her voice dropped as she hissed “where the sodding hell are they!?” to someone else in the room. 

Yet whatever James thought he was about to walk into didn’t even compare to the chaos that was their dorm room. 

Regulus, Lily, and Remus were all hovering in front of a makeshift potions station in the centre of the room; Remus dutifully checking and rechecking the brewing instructions from a heavy tome, Regulus chopping and prepping the ingredients with an efficient precision, and Lily expertly stirring the potion whilst keeping an eye on the heat and adding the ingredients as Remus read them out and Regulus handed them to her. 

Marlene and Dorcas stood to the side of the room, muttering angrily under their breaths as Marlene paced back and forth, though she kept her eyes trained dutifully on you, and Sirius had you wrapped up in one of their throws - so tightly that James wondered if it didn’t actually hurt - like a muggle straight jacket as he rubbed your back and rocked you back and forth, Peter hovering over you with a tissue in one hand to catch falling tears and a fan in the other to keep you cool. 

“What in the buggering fuck is going on here?” Barty spat then, apparently having come to his senses faster than James.

“Hey! Hey Trouble, look! Look who it is!” Sirius started with forced enthusiasm, rubbing your back with new vigour as he tried to get you to turn your attention to your two boyfriends. You hardly spared them a glance. 

“What’s the matter, angel? What’s with the tears?” James asked cautiously, easing his way over like the scene was a live wire ready to explode with one wrong move. 

“I’m scared. I don’t feel good Jamie.” You admitted, which James could very well see, though you immediately followed it up with “and what if he doesn’t like me?” 

“What if who doesn’t like you?” Barty asked then with a hard edge to his voice that saw James swatting at him warningly and Regulus hissing “would you take it easy, Junior?” 

“McLaggen.” Marlene answered for you; muttering the name with so much disdain that James almost wondered if it was the delivery itself that saw you burst into tears. 

“McKinnon, please.” Peter whined then, working overtime with both his tissue and his fan, looking like he was sweating nearly as much as you were and just as close to hysterics. 

“James?” Remus whispered, his eyes widening in warning. “A word, please?” 

Both James and Barty wretched their attention from you to join the impromptu potions class. 

“Listen, you cannot freak out; we’re brewing the antidote right now, but-”

“What antidote?” Barty interrupted darkly, causing Regulus to scoff at his oldest friend.

“Junior, what did we just say?”

“Listen, the two of you have one job right now.” Lily spat then; her tone taking on a no nonsense quality that had both boys unintentionally standing up straighter. “And that one job is to help keep her calm, got it?”

“Okay. Alright.” James agreed breathily, but Lily’s fiery gaze turned to Barty as she raised one perfectly arched auburn brow at him expectantly.

“Merlin,” He groaned, though they all watched him take a steadying breath, “okay, okay. What antidote are you brewing?”

“The Love Potion Antidote.” Regulus responded quickly, handing Lily the wiggentree twigs that Remus directed him to prep, watching over the cauldron as the potion turned green.

“Love Potion?” James hissed.

“She was slipped a Love Potion!?” Barty added.

“Looks like it.” Remus muttered darkly, though his face turned soft and pitiful when he looked over his shoulder to watch Sirius and Peter trying to keep you calm. 

“Alice overheard him asking her to Hogsmeade next weekend after Astronomy class yesterday. She declined, obviously.” Lily explained.

“Looks like he’s not used to rejection.” Regulus spat bitterly.

“Oh, he’s going to get used to rejection alright.” Barty muttered threateningly as he reached for his wand and made to storm out of the room, only for Marlene and Dorcas to block his exit. 

“One job.” Marlene demanded then, gesturing roughly in your direction. 

“It’s orange, now what?” Lily asked, and Remus flipped the page in the tome. 

“Add castor oil until it turns blue.” 

“I…I think maybe I should go?” You whimpered then; sentence dotted by hiccups and sniffling as you seemed to be staring unseeingly into the room. “I should go, right?”

“Hey, angel; you’re alright. I think you’re good here, huh?” James tried as he kneeled in front of you, and Peter seemed more than happy to step aside and make room for your boyfriends. “What do you say? We’ll just…hang out for a bit?”

“But I think I should go see McLaggen.” You pouted, and James had to remind himself to tamp down the anger threatening to boilover at the sight of your tearstained face. 

“Or,” Barty started then, and James prayed to the gods that he kept his wits about him, “why don’t we try to relax for a bit, and if you still feel like seeing him afterwards, we’ll all go pay him a visit?” 

Dorcas let out a humourless snort at that. “I vote for option number two.” 

“And….we’re blue.” Lily announced then, snuffing the flame out from beneath the potion and transferring it to a vial. “We’re gonna get you feeling better, Y/N.” She promised. 

“Okay, thank you.” You all but sobbed in response.

“What’s with the restraints?” Barty asked then as he pulled at the blanket wrapped around your being. 

“We didn’t handle being told to sit down very well.” Sirius responded for you, tightening his arm around your shoulders comfortingly as Peter rubbed a quickly growing red welt on the side of his cheek. 

“I’m sorry.” You nearly wailed as Lily made for you. “I just feel like I’m supposed to go find McLaggen!”

“Don’t worry, Treasure.” Barty assured you with a disturbing amount of composure. “We’re absolutely going to go find McLaggen, okay? Why don’t we take the potion Lily made for you, hm? Get you feeling better first.”

Barty spoke over the discontented grumblings of Regulus and Remus who ‘also helped make the potion, thank you very much’ as he took the vial from Lily and held it up to your mouth. “Big drink, okay Tres?” 

James was glad that you were as agreeable as you were in your discontented state, simply wrapping your blanket clad hands around Barty’s and allowing him to hold the vial as you drank the entire potion down. 

“It reads here that she’s probably going to be very tired and more than a little confused for a while, but the anxiety and lust should be gone.” Remus explained; James could kiss the sod. 

“Good. Good, yeah? That’s good, right angel? Do you feel better?” 

You sucked in a deep, shuddering breath as you licked a droplet of the potion from your lips and considered your answer before nodding slowly. “I…yeah. Yeah, I- I think so. I think I feel better.”

No sooner had the words left your lips did Lily grab her wand. “Great! Ready to go?” She asked no one in particular, but both Marlene and Dorcas answered in the affirmative immediately. 

“Where are you three going?” James asked cautiously. 

“You know,” Dorcas drawled casually as she began rummaging through Sirius’ trunk, though the long-haired boy hardly seemed to mind, “we just realised that we haven’t caught up with our old classmate in so long.” 

“A shame, really.” Marlene agreed as Dorcas filled her bag with various dung bombs, charmed firecrackers, and other various pranking paraphernalia. “All this talk about inter house unity, and we neglect a vast majority of our peers.” 

“We’re going to change that.” Lily declared as she swiped the Marauders Map from Remus’ desk. “Starting with McLaggen.” 

And with that, Lily shot you a wink, Dorcas a salute, and Marlene blew a kiss before the three witches closed the door to the boys’ dorm behind them.

“Can I take this off now?” You asked then, wriggling under Sirius arm as you tried to free yourself from your blanketed prison. 

“Only if you promise to keep your hands to yourself.” Sirius teased as he unravelled the blanket, causing you to fluster as you shot Peter your best doe eyes. 

“I really am sorry, Pete.” 

“Oh…it’s alright.” Peter offered with a nervous laugh, though he winced as he prodded the tender portion of his jaw that was well on its way to bruising. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” 

“What the hell happened?” Barty asked then; shoving the offended blanket off your shoulders and taking the fan from Peter (rather roughly, though Peter seemed more than glad to be effectively dismissed from his job) and started fanning you off. 

“I…I honestly don’t even know? Professor Slughorn was handing out chocolates to us after class today for a job well done, and whilst he was doing that, McLaggen approached me again asking if I wasn’t entirely sure I didn’t want to go to Hogsmeade with him.”

You were interrupted by James and Sirius grumbling, Remus scoffing, and Barty muttering something along the lines of “ask first, respect the answer, fuck face” under his breath. 

“And I said no, and left. I didn’t drink anything or-”

“Did you eat the chocolate?” Regulus interrupted then, ignoring his best friend’s murderous gaze for daring to speak over his Treasure. 

“What?”

“The chocolate that Slughorn handed out. Did you eat it?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Before McLaggen spoke to you, or after?” Regulus continued, inching closer and closer to being hexed straight to hell by Barty. 

“After…”

“You think he tampered with the chocolate?” Remus asked then, earning him a shrug of Regulus’ shoulders, though his head moved side to side in semi-confirmation. 

“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“The only thing that makes sense,” Barty spat venomously, “is a fucking dementors kiss for attempted…what? What was his plan?”

No one had the chance to answer, though, when the castle walls shook with the force of a boom coming from outside. 

The seven of you all stood and crammed your heads into the alcove of the window to see almost an entire acre of the castle grounds coated in a thick, sludgy yellow substance and one individual slipping and sliding as he tried to make his way out of the mess. Hexes and jinxes were being shot at him from three sides - clearly the doing of Marlene et al., if James recognised her duelling strategies correctly. 

“Well…” You offered cautiously. “I guess none of us have to go find McLaggen now?” 

Barty seemed wholly unconvinced, but by the time the group of you got to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning to find McLaggen unable to speak to any femme (student or faculty alike) without first announcing “My name is Tiberius McLaggen and I am a sexual predator.” for all to hear, Barty relented on his insistence to defend your honour. 

“The girls beat you to it.” You’d whispered into his cheek before stamping it with a kiss.

James figured this was probably the only time Barty would ever allow himself to be outdone.

[xalygatorx]

*cracks knuckles*

"This." | Alastor x Reader, First Kiss

Summary: You convince your new(ish) partner, Alastor, to give kissing a try.

Warnings: None apart from the tiniest mention of a bloody lip. Just fluff that gets a little steamy at the end.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Dedicated to @6esiree, her follower celebration challenge, and all the scrumptious stories she's crafted for us. x

It had taken a little convincing on your part. After all, the idea of kissing wasn't romantic or enticing to everyone. In fact, when you broke down the actual mechanics of the thing, you had to agree that it was a bit bizarre.

In the end though, he'd agreed to humor you. At least that's what he'd said. But you could see it in your partner's eyes—he was curious.

And now you were sitting cross-legged on the Radio Demon's bed—a bed he'd only procured after you'd started seeing each other and his lone option to (politely) cohabitate with you came in the form of your suite, which had several tenants in the form of void-staring Squishmallows. Especially considering he often preferred to stay up and read while you slept, it was the one scenario in which he preferred not to have an audience.

The Radio Demon, himself, sat across from you, subconsciously mirroring your body language and awaiting your next move.

You couldn't help but think, as you studied him both recreationally and to look for any indications of discomfort, that your journey to this point had been almost comical in its unlikelihood.

At the base level, it made very little sense. After all, you were more like Vox in a lot of ways than you were like Alastor—tech-savvy, excited about new gadgets and caught up on the latest memes, and absolutely rife with Gen. Z slang. Angel had been certain after you'd arrived at the hotel and stuck around long enough to make a few friends that the second Alastor realized he not only wouldn't get your soul from you, but he'd also have to deal with your shenanigans on top of everyone else's, he might decide you'd look better flambéd with a side of rice.

He hadn't thought that though, apparently. And you'd absolutely annoyed each other at first, mostly for a misfire in communication due to your highly conflicting eras and expectations, but he'd admitted to you much later—after a courting proposal he'd had planned to the letter had still gone sideways anyway, again because of you (allegedly)—that this wasn't completely true. He found you annoying, yes—which was fine because he annoyed you sometimes, too—but part of that annoyance came from how utterly fascinating he found you, too.

Alastor, at his core, didn't subscribe to the idea that vulnerability was worth a damn in the grand scheme of things. He liked it in others—subservience from the masses and warm pink blushes from you—but he expected more from himself. Vulnerability equated to weakness and that was something no overlord could afford in his mind. So his immediate response to feeling anything on the softer side for you had at first been met with utmost resistance.

He'd tried ignoring you. Not only was he miserable for the duration of that due to missing you—a realization the Doomsday District had subsequently suffered for—but you drove him up the walls when your initial hurt at being shunned turned to unbridled annoyance and an ever-increasing demand for an explanation.

He'd tried "friendzoning" you. That had initially worked and then royally pissed you off when he used the actual term he'd apparently learned from Rosie a long time ago. You'd informed him with bared fangs and gusto that your friendship was not and never would be a consolation prize and stormed off to your suite. Then you'd ignored him—for four days precisely. When you'd finally given him the time of day, he'd shown up with an armful of apology gifts and a wobbly smile he'd never admitted to wearing since.

And then he'd just spent the next leg of knowing you very confused about why nothing he'd tried had worked and why you being upset with him upended his world so completely. You'd caught him lurking at the edge of gatherings, fully honed in on you with an intensity that felt like he might be dissecting you with his eyes. You'd thought he'd found another reason to be angry at you until he'd approached you a week later and admitted the complete opposite.

That, loath as he was to admit it, he was drawn to you and it was doing neither of you any favors for him to keep lying to himself.

And you'd realized in that moment, too, that part of why his "rejections" had made you so angry were because…well, you liked him, too.

Because, for as haughty and selfish as he was, he also took great pains to go out of his way for you. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room regardless of whether it was actually true. He was timeless in his strange, enigmatic way that was so very much, innately him. A way you'd come to like quite a lot. The bigger L-word was on the horizon, but you'd shelved that thought whenever it had arisen. Not only were you worried you'd scare him away, but you worried about spooking yourself, too.

Your focus pivoted as one of Alastor's ears flicked back, a silent subconscious display of his nerves. He was still watching you, measuring you with a look that managed to show his age and still look boyish simultaneously. His crimson eyes were open, flickering over your face with unease hidden behind a thin smile. When your pensive expression faltered into something affectionate, he huffed a little breath out that made his shoulders relax just the slightest bit.

"Well, dear?" Alastor wondered. His tone was just shy of a purr and you had a feeling he was trying to put up a bit more bravado than he currently felt in the face of something he wasn't as versed in. "You seemed quite intent earlier on getting me alone. Where's your moxie gone?"

"It's still around," you laughed. "Just a little nervous."

He blinked owlishly—these more vulnerable expressions were possibly the ones on him that you adored the most. The youth it smoothed over his sharp features almost made it possible to see what he'd looked like while alive. You would've never met him in life—decades on decades had ensured your separation—but it was a nice thought.

It would've had to have been in your time though. Even though he would've been miserable amidst all the swanky new tech (at least until you talked him into trying a podcast probably), you would've been more miserable trying to acclimate to the mold women were expected to fit in his era. You'd asked him once why he liked you, given just how different you were from what he'd likely grown up with, and after he'd finished laughing at your question, he'd just dropped a chaste kiss to your cheek and said he'd never been partial to dolls and found your spark far more entertaining.

"You are nervous?" Alastor asked, his smile wavering just slightly as he tilted his head. "What ever for?"

"Well, sweetheart, it's been a minute for me, too," you said with a helpless little shrug that made his features soften even as his frame seemed to tense again. "And, well, after asking you to humor me, I'd hate to mess it up."

Alastor scoffed a little and wordlessly turned one of his large, spidery hands palm-up to offer to you. Without hesitation, you took it in both of yours, running the pads of your fingertips over the ashen grooves and sharp points of his knuckles. You both watched your hands traverse his for a moment before he spoke again.

"…I must admit I wouldn't know if you did, cher."

It was your turn to look surprised. "If I did, what?" you asked, wondering if you'd been that distracted just by the opportunity to touch his hand or if there was something you'd yet to learn about him.

"If you…'messed up'," he said, borrowing your slang. The stiff, experimental way he said it made a bloom of warmth expand in your chest. How was such a feral, sadistic sort of demon so unbearably cute sometimes? You'd hardly wondered the question before his ears slowly swiveled to flatten against his hair, his smile wobbling again as he rolled his eyes away and sighed. "I expect, given our newfound partnership, I can anticipate a layer of confidentiality here tonight?"

You frowned. "If you're asking if you can trust me, the answer's yes," you murmured, mirroring his head's tilt with yours. "Is everything okay?"

Alastor smiled genuinely and gave your hand a light pat. "Just fine, darling," he said and you noticed his face looked a little flushed.

Had you ever seen him blush? God help you, now that you knew it was possible, you wanted to create that crimson hue on his cheeks as often as possible, he was precious!

"This is a first for me," Alastor finally said, sounding like he'd half-blurted it out just to get past his own pride or anxiety.

"Can you, uh, be a little more specific?" you asked, not wanting to embarrass him, but wanting to know what exactly he meant in case it changed your approach. You gently stroked his hand, hoping it came across as a soothing gesture. He could get grumpy in moments like this, taking comfort as coddling and acting all the more irritable for it after. "I'm just worried about overstepping, I'm not trying to wring anything out of you."

Alastor chuckled and shook his head. "No need to overexplain, dearest. I appreciate the attention to detail," he admitted, still choosing to stare down at your hands or the baseboard off to the side rather than meet your eyes. His ears hadn't yet lifted from their station against his head. "…Kissing. At least lips-to-lips. I never cared for the idea—I'm still not entirely sure I do now—and so I never entertained the practice."

You felt both blessed and terrified at once as you asked, "…You've never kissed anyone?"

Alastor's lip curled a little at your shock. "Please do refrain from making a scene over this," he requested with an exasperated huff.

"We don't have to try this, Al," you hastened to tell him, your fingers tightening around his hand but still leaving him room to pull away if he wanted to. He seemed to notice and the snarl in his smile smoothed away with a silent bit of gratitude. "If you're not interested, it's totally fine."

He gave you a skeptical look. "And you would simply abide by never kissing your beloved?" he asked, not sounding like he believed it a bit. "By feeling as though your partner does not want you?"

You pursed your lips—well, it stung a little when he put it like that, but that wasn't where your mind had gone. "Quit putting someone else's words in my mouth," you mumbled and that put a dash of chagrin on the Radio Demon's pinched expression. "I come from a much more flexible time than you do when it comes to this stuff. I knew you were ace before any of this, even before we became friends—"

"What now?"

You couldn't help a fond, breathy laugh. "Ace. Asexual," you elaborated. "Generally uninterested in sexual stuff, or at least not interested in the way most people are. It's normal. There's nothing wrong with that."

Alastor's ears flicked uncertainly. "I'm afraid I've garnered a much different perspective all these years," he said. "Which was perfectly fine until…well."

"It's still fine as long as we're happy," you said. "That's all there is to it."

"It sounds much easier than society made it seem in my lifetime," Alastor sighed, giving your hand another couple of pats. A silent thanks. His eyes narrowed an increment as he, at last, met your eyes again. There was no mistaking the warmth their vermillion glow sent through you. He studied you, that curiosity lingering, as he murmured, "I would still like to try. For you, dear."

You smiled. "Thanks," you said softly. "Just…no pressure, okay? We never have to do it again if you hate it or for any longer than you want to. I promise, now that I know to prepare myself, I won't be offended or hurt if you decide you don't like it."

That seemed to be the root of his unease and it made your heart give a squeeze. Evil as he liked to think he was and, in fairness, was to most, he had a soft spot for you. One you relished curling up in. One that already felt like home.

"This…stays between us regardless, yes?" Alastor murmured. "Not that it particularly matters in the grand scheme of things, but I have a grave feeling that this is something that idiotic picture box would never let go if he caught wind of it. I loathe the idea of simply offering ammunition on a platter."

"It stays right here," you promised. "Just with us."

Alastor hummed his approval and adjusted his sitting position on the mattress. "Lovely. Now…how do we go about this?" he asked, businesslike in a way that was almost comical. It was all you could do not to laugh lest he take it the wrong way in this moment where he didn't have the upper hand.

And, to be honest, his question was valid even if it did seem a bit silly. You'd never done this with someone before. Teaching someone how to kiss felt like such a momentous occasion. What if you were a bad kisser and you'd just never known because what was the gold standard for kissing?! Of course there were do's and don't's and cardinal sins, but…what made a kiss good?

You weren't sure, but you wanted his first one to be good. Perfect even, if you could manage it.

"Well," you said thoughtfully, giving your lips a nervous lick. You blushed when you saw his eyes drop down and follow the pink tip of your tongue along the seam of your mouth. You had his attention at least. "You've kissed my cheek. You can kiss someone's lips that way too. So let's just start with that."

Alastor's ears finally perked back up. "Simple enough!" he declared, seeming pleased that he wasn't being offered the deep end before being sure he could swim. "Well then…shall we?"

You smirked and shuffled a little closer, giving his hand a squeeze before letting it go to cautiously cup his cheeks. "Remember…at any point, if you want to stop—"

"I will say something, my dear," Alastor said, his ears flicking back again as his confidence faltered anew. "Or tap your arm a few times perhaps if you've got me in too tight a chokehold."

You laughed. "I'm not going to stick my tongue down your throat, for fuck's sake," you griped through a series of giggles.

"Language," Alastor scolded you despite chuckling a bit, himself.

In part to shut him up now, you closed the gap between your lips—mindful and slow, you kept to your original suggestion and simply pressed a polite, succinct peck against his still-smiling mouth. Afterward, you drew back just a little to get a read on your partner, finding his cheeks a little redder than before. And his eyes, uh, a bit wide.

"You okay?" you asked.

"I am," Alastor said, seeming a little surprised at the fact. "Why, that was hardly unpleasant at all!"

You snorted. "Hardly unpleasant… I can work with that, I guess," you mused.

He tsked at you and rested his hands against yours, which were still cradling his face. "You know very well that isn't how I meant it," he chided you. "It was pleasant. Unexpectedly so."

"Well, good!" you said, pleased he'd found it nice. "I'm glad. Did you want to keep it just at that?"

Alastor contemplated you for a moment or so and then contemplated your lips specifically—your face heated as he subconsciously wet his own.

"I could perhaps be a bit adventurous… If you're up for the task," he suggested, that curiosity lingering and shifting into something a little darker, it appeared. Wishful thinking maybe, on your part.

"I could be," you flirted back, pondering your options before suggesting, "I'll…well, I guess I'll just go until we stop—either because you tell me to or…whatever. Okay?"

Alastor shifted a little as he said, "Very well. On this particular dancefloor, darling, I follow your lead."

You couldn't help but tease him a little.

"You're a very cute old man, you know," you informed him. And, right as he was about to fire back, you slotted your lips against his, effectively finding the one way you'd encountered thus far to silence the Radio Demon.

You couldn't help a slight giggle when you heard the vinyl screech of a stalled record erupt from the air around you or possibly from his microphone propped up against the bedpost. Keeping to your word, you went slow, starting with a gentle brushing motion before offering a touch more guidance as you increased the pressure and friction by a hair.

Alastor was following, clumsily, but seemed to get his bearings little by little as you took the two of you through this ritual the way he'd once guided you both through your first waltz. You demonstrated the little nuances you'd learned in life as you went—the interval opportunities for breathing, the different sensations of brushing vs. sliding through a liplock, and where hands could rest unobtrusively when kissing was the sole activity in the cards for the evening.

Yours had remained cupping Alastor's cheeks and his had slid down from covering your fingers to loosely encircling your wrists. You'd assumed he'd left them there to free himself once he'd had enough—the way his quiet, ambient static had climbed to white noise around you had made you think he was nearing his limit—but he had yet to pull away or signal that he was done.

In fact, unless you were mistaking his body language through the hazy, dopamine-riddled fog you existed in now, he seemed ever more interested in continuing rather than stopping.

Alastor, more confident with the cadence of the kisses you shared and the way he could best move his mouth to match yours, nosed in closer when you started to lean back, thinking you were doing him a favor by allowing him some room. A disgruntled sound rumbled in the base of his throat when his nose bumped into yours, something you thought was cute but he was currently viewing as either a failure or an obstacle to what he wanted.

You smiled against his lips and used the cradle of your fingers against his cheekbones to gently angle his head—you tilted yours in kind to afford him the closeness he was after. Alastor gave a soft hum of approval as he nuzzled in again, successfully this time, and ran his hands down your forearms as the pads of his thumbs—with claws carefully angled away—skimmed the soft, delicate skin of your wrists all the way down.

Experimentally, you chanced a gentle suck against his lower lip and the cross between a low groan and a bleat that he allowed you to swallow between kisses made you shiver with delight.

It caused a reaction in him, too, apparently. In seconds, your world had tilted a full 90 degrees and you were on your back, soft scarlet quilts beneath you and enamored, lovedrunk Radio Demon on top of you.

There was no slow-and-steady now, not now that he had the idea of what he was meant to do and found himself comfortably, securely lost in your mouth, your softness, your scent. For Alastor, kissing someone on the lips had always been an alien, strange, unwelcome sort of act—no longer. Now he could only wonder how else he could get even closer to you, how completely he could be engulfed in the feelings you stirred in him when you were alone together and the Hells outside his door—your door now, too—ceased to exist until morning.

He couldn't even find it in himself to be embarrassed about the little cervine sound that had bubbled up from his throat when you'd so innocently yet salaciously tugged at his lower lip. That was filed away for another time, for now all that mattered was you.

You'd since lost your composure under the heat of his full attention. Your fingertips had traversed past the sharp lines of his cheeks toward his hair, gently tangling in the crimson and black-tipped locks that hung in short curtains around his face as he bowed over you, consuming you more surely and more thoroughly all the time.

Overzealous, he briefly and only once caught your lip with the edge of one of his lethal teeth—he'd lapped the bead of blood away, mumbled an apology, and proceeded to kiss you through the clotting, enjoying his taste of your essence without causing you any extra, undue discomfort.

When finally you had to break for air, you filled your lungs and looked up at Alastor, admiring the sparkle in his eyes and the disheveled state of his usually pristine appearance. Again you thought you were glimpsing not just the buck you'd fallen for, but the man he'd been long before you'd ever existed. You smiled—who would've thought you could feel lucky to be dead?

"Safe to say it's not so bad?" you asked, smirking a little when you heard how breathless your own voice sounded.

Alastor chuckled and straightened, plucking you up from the bed and bringing you with him. "Yes, indeedy, darling," he admitted, kissing your cheek as he admired your plush, kiss-bruised lips. He tutted a little at the tiny split he'd caused but seemed to take it in stride. "Was it… Was I alright for you as well?"

Your expression softened. "You always are," you murmured, tilting your head back to kiss the tip of his nose. "But yes. You're a very quick study."

You felt his chest puff with pride. "Why, of course!" he boasted with a haughty chuckle, back to the Radio Demon you knew (and loved). "Certainly couldn't be too hard a thing to learn, after all—the rabble and then some have seemed to figure it out just fine."

Expecting him to humble-brag you into oblivion, you simply let him marinate in his success—at least until he surprised you yet again. It seemed to be something he was inclined to do often and you couldn't complain. Especially when his surprises tended to, for you, border on a saccharine sort of sweet. Not that he'd ever admit to it.

Alastor smiled warmly down at you and bravely leaned in to press another, shorter kiss to your lips. "Thank you, ma cher."

You blinked. "What for?"

He hummed in consideration before murmuring simply, "This."

A look into his eyes told you that "this," wasn't simply a kiss or a conversation or any particular moment in isolation. It was all of those things though, all at once. The smile you shared was part of it, too.

And the countless tender moments that hadn't happened yet would be part of it as well.

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 6

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected. 

Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.

There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.

The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate. 

Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.

Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…

As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.

She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?

(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)

Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now. 

Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.

And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.

“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly.  “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”

Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her. 

"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well. 

“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”

“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.

She had never outright admitted it to another person. 

Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way. 

There was no need to tell anybody else. 

Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only. 

Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock. 

*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*

She had no idea who any of these people were but…

Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”

This was just getting better and better.

Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words. 

Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."

She swallowed. 

“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly. 

Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering. 

"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."

Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.

*Master especially liked the…*

“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment. 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.

"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.  

*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*

Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.

"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.

Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."

"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.

Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.

Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.

Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me." 

Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser. 

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered. 

She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words. 

Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.

"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze. 

His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder. 

"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"

"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this. 

They were probably right. 

But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.

"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.

With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.

Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.

A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.

But it wasn't...not really.

Not for them. 

And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful. 

Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.

With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.

All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.

"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.

"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.

"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.

He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.

Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.

She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.

He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.

"Claire," she whispered.

She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.

Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.

Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.

"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.

With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.

It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.

He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.

"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.

It was so easy.

So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.

Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her. 

"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.

Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...

It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…

It was everything Sky had ever wanted. 

Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...

"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.

About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.

She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.

It nearly came as a shock as she came.

A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.

***

There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.

Azriel felt...content.

More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.

"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.

"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.

"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.

"Why not?" he complained.

"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"

"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.

"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement. 

And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know. 

Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.

She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.

"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.

Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."

"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."

Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.

They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now. 

He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote. 

And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.

For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon. 

But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions. 

"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you." 

Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.

"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition." 

Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"

"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.

Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."

And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.

Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."

...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.

Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.

Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.

Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.

Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."

Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.

"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically

Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."

She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”

Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.

So Hector and him had that in common.

And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.

But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.

He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.

He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.

[chibinasuu]

Date? | Zoro x Reader

Summary: Zoro asked you out on a date. (You thought it was just an errand run at the market)  Tags: fluff, pre-relationship, first date(?), GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

a/n: happy birthday zoro!! this is not a birthday-centric fic, just wanted to write something fluffy for the birthday boy :)

You sat on one of the swings on the main deck of the Thousand Sunny, gently swaying as you waited for Zoro. As the minutes ticked by, you started impatiently glancing at the door to the boys’ room. 

It was taking Zoro unexpectedly long to get ready today when he usually only needed less than five minutes to throw on whatever non-wrinkled, semi-clean clothes he could find strewn around beneath his hammock. 

“Want to go to the market with me today? Just us two?” was what Zoro asked you this morning. Of course, you said yes without a second thought. It wasn’t unusual for you to accompany Zoro on errand runs whenever you docked at a new island – it seemed the crew had appointed you as his (un)official chaperone, tasked with ensuring the directionally challenged swordsman could find his way back to the ship at the end of the day. With that being said, you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy every single second you got to be alone with your green-haired crewmate.

The Sunny was currently docked at a small, but lively harbor town. Nami already scoped out the area this morning, and she reported that, thankfully, there were no marine bases here, so the crew could spend the next three days in peace while waiting for the log pose to set.

Some muffled bickering came from inside the boys’ room and you were straining your ears to hear what they were saying when the door suddenly swung open. Zoro was quickly shoved out of the room by a pair of hands you recognized as Usopp’s, and a telltale flash of blonde hair, before the door slammed shut, told you that the cook was also in on… whatever this was. 

You looked at the man in front of you, his green hair still slightly damp from a bath (he took a bath?) but combed neatly. He was wearing a black, slightly oversized, short-sleeved shirt – unbuttoned over a white tank top – paired with some light blue jeans. 

You could only gape in awe, genuinely taken aback at the sight of him actually dressing up for once, but at your silence, Zoro stiffened and did a one-eighty, reaching for the doorknob, “I’m gonna go change.”

You touched his arm lightly to stop him, “No, don’t.”

He turned to face you again, and you placed your hand on his shoulder as you admitted, “You look really great. It suits you.”

The tips of Zoro’s ears turned red at your compliment. A breeze suddenly picked up, bringing about faint traces of lemon and eucalyptus… Was he wearing cologne?

You couldn’t help but lean towards him, inching your nose closer to his neck to catch another whiff of the lovely aroma. As if reading your thoughts, Zoro said, “Usopp sprayed it on me before I could get away.”

Ah, so that’s why the scent was familiar. You’ve smelled it on the sniper a few times before, but on Zoro, the cologne smelled slightly different, tinged with a scent that was so uniquely him. 

“Well, you smell fantastic.” You reassured him. “Shall we go?”

The walk to the market was brief, with you and Zoro strolling side-by-side in companionable silence. As the hustle and bustle of the market came within sight, you nudged him and asked, “What did you need from the market, by the way?”

“I didn’t really need anything in particular,” He thought for a bit, “But I guess I’m running low on sword polish.”

After Zoro made a quick purchase at the arms shop, you two wandered around the market with no directions in mind, stopping at whichever stall caught your eye. 

An old lady sat behind one, carefully weaving a bracelet out of thin, colorful threads. Her table was filled with more of her creations, each of them with unique patterns and color combinations. You picked one that you thought was the prettiest, admiring the intricate details of the different shades of green mingling to create a mesmerizing design. You checked the price tag and put it back down. As much as you wanted it, you really needed to restrain yourself. You told yourself you didn’t need another accessory – not when you just purchased a pricey silver necklace at the last island. 

A few stalls down was a table laden with vials and bottles of all sizes, and you excitedly dragged Zoro by the sleeve towards it. 

“Welcome, welcome!” The owner of the kiosk greeted you, “We have fragrances of every kind here – even imported oils from Alabasta! Do you have any particular scent you prefer?”

“Oh, it’s not for me!” You smiled before jerking your thumb at your companion, “I want to find something for him.”

“Well, take a look around.” He gestured to the samples, “I’m sure we can find something suitable for your boyfriend.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you frantically waved your hand, while Zoro was similarly flustered.

“He’s not–”

“We’re not–, I mean–”

The two of you gave up explaining as the man profusely apologized for making inappropriate assumptions. After you assured him that it was fine, he began putting drops of the different fragrant oils on small pieces of paper and handed them to you. You sniffed each of them, bringing the ones you found interesting up to Zoro’s nose. All of the scents were alluring in their own ways, but one in particular stood out to you. It opened with a fresh burst of bergamot, layered with a spicy rush of cardamom and a hint of green tea. 

“How’s this?” You offered the paper to Zoro.

He took a cautious sniff, and his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. Zoro was never really into colognes or perfumes, but he was surprised at how much he actually liked the scent you picked for him.

He nodded and you beamed, turning towards the merchant, “We’ll take this one!”

As the man filled a vial with the fragrant oil, you reached into your pocket for some Berries, but Zoro’s hand on your wrist stopped you, “You don’t have to–“

“I know.” You cut him off, “But I want to.”

You grinned at him, “You can wear it the next time we hang out, so you don’t have to borrow Usopp’s.”

A smile slowly crept up Zoro’s lips, “Thanks.” 

The merchant was wrapping up the glass vial when Zoro tapped you on the shoulder, “Hey, I need to go to the restroom. Wait here for a minute.”

Before you could stop him, he was gone. 

Your heart dropped. If there was one rule to going anywhere with Zoro, it was to never let him out of your sight.

You quickly handed some coins to the merchant and began searching in the direction that Zoro went, standing on your tiptoes to look over the crowd in hopes of catching sight of that familiar green. You were just starting to descend into a panic when a hand suddenly grabbed yours. 

“I’m right here,” Zoro said softly into your ear.

You smacked him lightly on the chest, “Don’t run off like that again! You scared me!”

“Sorry,” He grinned, before shrugging and saying nonchalantly, “But you know what, I don���t know how but I could always find my way back if it’s to you.”

You wondered if he knew the effect he had on you.

Your grip on his hand tightened just a little bit. You knew he was just holding your hand so you wouldn’t lose each other in this crowded market, but you couldn’t prevent your pulse from quickening at the feeling of his strong hand in yours. It certainly didn’t help that he didn’t let go even after you left the market and the crowd behind you. 

You caught a glimpse of a massive flower field at the edge of town and tugged Zoro’s hand to grab his attention, “Nami heard that field’s a popular picnic spot for the locals. Sure looks pretty, doesn’t it?”

“Wanna check it out?” 

You looked at the field longingly before shaking your head, “It’s getting late, maybe tomorrow. We should probably head back to the ship for dinner soon.” 

“Actually,” Zoro said, “I was thinking we could try out one of those restaurants in town, if you’re up for it?”

You were surprised at Zoro’s suggestion – he was normally the type to return to the ship as early as possible and take a good, long nap after a day out – but you agreed to it nonetheless. When else would you get a chance to dine with your swordsman, just the two of you?

The restaurant Zoro took you to was a quaint place, but the food they served was beyond your expectations. Zoro was unusually talkative throughout dinner, and you couldn’t say that you didn’t adore this side of him. You two laughed and chatted through bites of steaks and sips of beer, and then dinner was over before you realized, far sooner than you would’ve liked. 

The walk back to the ship was also shorter than you remembered. As you walked beside Zoro, fingers brushing in featherlight touches, you had to resist the temptation of linking your fingers with his. The night was getting chillier and you would give anything to feel his warm hand in yours again, but you know you shouldn’t. This was just a friendly outing anyway – you wouldn’t want him to think that you got the wrong idea, or worse, what if he rejected your advances?

Zoro walked you all the way to the door of your quarters, “Did you have fun today?”

“I did.” You smiled up at him, “Best day I had in a while, to be honest.”

All of a sudden, Zoro took your wrist and slipped something onto it, “A return gift. For the perfume oil you bought me.” 

Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed that it was the green woven bracelet that you admired earlier. He must’ve gotten it when you were briefly separated at the market.  

“Oh, Zoro,” You leaped toward him, bringing your arms around his neck and enveloping him in a big hug, “Thank you!” 

Zoro’s arms tentatively wrapped around your waist and you melted into his embrace. You leaned back and brought your wrist with the bracelet to beside his head, giggling as you noted, “It matches your hair.” 

Zoro’s expression was unreadable as he gazed at you, and then, without warning, he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your cheek. You froze at the sudden act, your smile dropping in shock. Your heart was pounding faster than ever, and your fingers unconsciously went to the spot where you could still feel the touch of his chapped lips.  

Zoro mistook your surprised reaction as rejection and immediately dropped his arms from your waist, stepping backward as he brought his palm to his forehead, “Sorry, fuck, I shouldn’t have taken that dumb cook’s advice.”

“Huh?” You voiced, still in a daze and not understanding a bit of what he was saying, “What advice? What’s Sanji got to do with this?”

He hesitated, before admitting in a small voice, “He said a kiss on the cheek would be okay for a first date. If it went well.”

“D-date?” You asked in confusion, “Are you telling me today was a date?”

Zoro ran his hand through his hair in frustration, “Well, what the hell did you think it was then?”

“I thought it was just one of our usual errand runs!” You stammered out, before jabbing your pointer finger on his chest accusingly, “You didn’t say it was a date!”

After belatedly realizing that he, in fact, did not, Zoro flushed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh, I did say it would only be the two of us?”

You blinked, still processing his words and this absurd miscommunication.

“You know what, forget it.” Zoro's face was bright red as he began walking away from you in the direction of the crow’s nest, “Good night.”

“No, wait. Zoro.” You caught him by his hand, before placing yourself in front of him. “It was a really nice day.”

He refused to look at you, but you placed your hand on his chin, guiding his eyes to yours, “But if you wanted to ask me on a date, maybe you could’ve been a little more… explicit?”

You laughed in embarrassment as you gestured at your casual t-shirt and shorts, “Gosh, look at me! I would’ve dressed up better!”

“You look great no matter what you wear.”

You flushed at his sincere compliment, before taking his hands in each of yours, “I’d love to go on a date with you again, you know.”

You squeezed his hands, “Preferably one where I knew it was a date?”

He was silent for a few seconds, before muttering, “Tomorrow then.” 

“Tomorrow what, Zoro?” You teased, “Use your words.”

Zoro took a deep breath, looking you right in the eyes, “Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow? We can have a picnic at the flower fields. You wanted to go there, right?”

“It’s a date.” You smiled, before giving him a peck on the cheek, “Good night, Zoro. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You entered your room, quickly shutting the door as your legs gave out under you. You sat stunned on the floor, hand on your chest to dampen the drumming of your heart, cheeks hurting from the wide grin you were sporting.

You knew you probably wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight, too filled with excitement for what tomorrow would bring.  

[creamflix]

toji fushiguro x female reader; heavy, heart-crushing angst, not a lot of comfort. reader is toji's second wife, megumi's step-mom. concept inspired by @/yunymphs nsfw fic, off your shoulders — masterlist here ☆

marriage is supposed to be a blessing, a bond that seals two lives into one, a promise of belonging.

you’d always dreamed of it.

sharing every first moment with someone — the first kiss as newlyweds, the first lazy morning dance in the kitchen, the first time lying side by side, tangled in each other. you’d imagined a life full of firsts, a life that would feel like you’re writing a story together, each page a piece of both of you.

but with toji, the man you love and who loves you, it feels like stepping into the middle of a book already written.

he’s had his firsts, some so precious that traces of them linger like shadows in your home. and you try — god, you try — to let that be enough, to love him and his son, megumi, with all the warmth and devotion you can muster. yet some days, you feel like you’re just outside their world, looking in.

it’s in the everyday moments, these small interactions that remind you of everything they had before you came along. moments like this morning, when you’re up early making breakfast, hoping to surprise toji with something special. you’re chopping vegetables, humming softly to yourself, trying to imagine the look on his face when he comes in, maybe pulls you close and says you don’t have to go through the trouble. you’ve seen couples do that — little gestures to remind each other they’re together.

you want that, too.

but as you start to crack an egg into the pan, you hear megumi calling from down the hall. “dad, where are my soccer cleats?”

your heart clenches. before you can even move to help, toji’s already calling back, voice easy, like it’s a scene they’ve played out a hundred times. “try under the stairs, where your mom used to keep ‘em.”

his mom. megumi’s mom.

the woman who came before you, whose shoes you will never be able to fill.

the words hang in the air, chilling. you place the egg down and pause, the silence settling heavy on your shoulders. you don’t hate her, not in the slightest — you’ve only ever heard lovely things about her. if anything, you’re grateful to her for the habits, routines, the sense of belonging she built with them, for raising megumi to be as kind as he is.

but still, there’s a sting every time she’s mentioned, a reminder that no matter how much you love toji, a part of him will always belong to her.

maybe that’s normal, you tell yourself, shaking off the thought. you grab the spatula, focusing on the way the eggs sizzle in the pan, trying to calm the knot that’s forming in your stomach.

“i’m… making breakfast, by the way,” you call out, trying to keep your voice light. maybe this will be the moment toji notices, realizes you’re trying to make him smile in your own way.

“yeah, thanks, babe,” he says from the hall. he’s already moved on, ruffling megumi’s hair as they laugh about something you can’t quite hear.

right, you think, fighting the wave of hurt that sweeps over you.

maybe that’s just the way it is.

you stare down at the breakfast you prepared, feeling a pang of something deeper than you’d care to admit. you’re doing your best to fit in, to add to the life he’s built, but sometimes, it feels like nothing more than an afterthought. it’s silly, really — you know they care about you, know toji chose you because he loves you.

but love doesn’t always erase what came before.

and it’s not his fault that his past is so deeply woven into their present, into your present.

by the time they wander into the kitchen, you’ve already set out the plates, adding a smile to mask the ache twisting inside you. megumi gives you a small nod, a muttered “thanks,” while toji walks over, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “looks good,” he says with that lazy smirk, and you feel the flutter of warmth, the one that always ignites when he shows even the smallest affection. but it quickly fades as he moves back to his son, launching into an old joke that you don’t understand.

you sit down across from them, feeling the laughter spill around you, each chuckle a reminder of the bond they share. you know it’s unreasonable to feel left out; after all, you’ve only been a part of their lives for a fraction of the time.

and they are good to you. they include you in most things, make an effort to make you feel like part of the family.

but there are these subtle moments, these glances, these familiar gestures, that you can never quite touch.

you watch as toji reaches over, ruffling megumi’s hair, that same fond smile lighting his face. and it’s like watching them dance to a song you can’t hear. a piece of you aches to ask, where do i fit into this?

“you two are adorable,” you say, almost to yourself, hoping they hear the love in your voice despite the sadness resting there.

you can’t say the words that sit heavy in your chest, the longing to belong to them in a way that feels real and whole. instead, you keep your gaze on your plate, focusing on the small bite of eggs you’ve managed to lift to your lips, the only sound in your head the quiet plea that maybe one day, this feeling will pass.

maybe one day, watching them from afar will stop hurting so much.

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[redtrack]

fogo e noite | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!portuguese!reader

summary: two similar but still different cultures clash. how would charles leclerc, a monégasque f1 driver, react to having a portuguese girlfriend?

author’s note: a bit of a self insert here but nothing serious! i thought that it would be adequate to make my first ever work close to home. vamos, portugal! this is quite short since i’m only experimenting, but let me know what you think!

warnings: usage of y/n, mentions of fem! reader, reader has a previously defined nationality, some cursing, english is not my native language :( i used some photos from pinterest so the rights go to their rightful owners, user alexandra as a faceclaim on the last post

twitter

charles e carlos reagem a comentários parte 2 — by shell v-power

(charles and carlos react to comments part 2)

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instagram

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 167,000 more

yourusername tinha que o levar ao dragão (sorry for the yelling baby ❤️)

(had to take him to dragão's football stadium)

tagged charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc it's okay, mon ange 🤍 (why were you wearing another man's name on your back, though?)

yourusername last time i checked you didn't play for porto

user5 CLOCK HIM !!!

charles_leclerc watch me sign with them next season

user81 a queen é portista obrigada deus 🙏🙏 (the queen supports porto thank you god) liked by author

yourusername 💙

user31 y/n taking charles to a football game in her city is so them coded for some reason

user16 exposing him to the good stuff

yourbestfriend you always go a bit crazy on game day

yourusername leave me alone omg i’m worse on race days liked by charles_leclerc

user14 she’s so us omg 😭

user98 FORÇA PORTO ALEEE !!! (GO PORTO!!!) liked by author

charles’s interview for gq magazine

Q: You have recently made your relationship with the Portuguese model Y/N Y/LN public. How do you two manage a multi-cultural love?

Charles: I must admit that I was quite scared at the beginning. (laughs) We come from different cultures and grew up a thousand miles apart.

Thankfully, we both speak english quite fluently and my Y/N has picked up some french from her education in Portugal. I love it when we speak in french. (laughs)

The hardest part was probably meeting her family. They’re quite diverse when it comes to age, so at first I was only able to communicate with the ones close to our without Y/N translating everything, since the oldest and the youngest generations don’t speak english at all.

When I first met her dad, he was super friendly, but I understood that he would change languages every time he spoke to Y/N about me. She later reassured me that it wasn’t anything bad. (laughs)

Despite everything, they have always been extremely welcoming and friendly to me and I truly feel like a part of the family whenever we come to visit.

Q: We take it as you have her family’s blessing, then?

Charles: I hope so! (laughs)

Both of her parents are long time fans of the sport, just like my Y/N, so I think that really helped. And my charm. (laughs)

Q: How about your family? What was their reaction when meeting Y/N?

Charles: My Maman was very excited. (laughs)

I had already talked a lot about Y/N to my mother and brothers, so it kinda felt like they knew her for ages.

It was a really special night for us. Y/N had been away from home for a while. She was extremely home-sick, but still insisted in meeting my family. I was really touched.

I told my Maman about it, so that we could avoid certain topics during dinner not to make Y/N uncomfortable. But when we got there, we found out that my mother had attempted to cook some of my Y/N’s favorite home dishes to make her feel better. She spent the rest of the night hugging Maman while crying and thanking her a million times. (laughs)

I fell in love with her a bit more after that day.

Q: You two seem like a very romantic couple.

Charles: We are. I absolutely love her with my whole heart and I know it goes both ways.

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charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc this picture was taken in the very first few hours of 2025 somewhere in Portugal with my baby.

happy new year everyone 😘

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yourusername happy new year charlie 💓

charles_leclerc feliz ano novo, mon ange 🤍

pierregasly already spending new year's with her family i see

charles_leclerc you did the same with kika though

user54 ate him up omg

user81 watching their relationship grow in front of my eyes make me cry

user43 they're my favorite couple

user67 oh he travelled to spend new year's with her and her family i'm sick

user21 i love them sm

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, yourbestfriend and 198 720 others

yourusername eu, o meu monegasco e o meu porto para sempre ❤️

(me, my monégasque and my porto forever)

tagged charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc ❤️

[jjkamochoso]

Im have too many gojo thoughts in my head, so I'll just send them! (^_^ take all the time you need to replied/write im very patient!)

Ok ok soo dad!gojo is in my head 24/7 so maybe the reader and gojo take little gojo to the Aquarium!! Gojo with a min him is so cute to me 😭😭

Ahhh omg this SO cute!!!! Dad!Gojo would definitely be fun... we get a few glimpses here and there with him and Megumi so let's throw a mini Satoru in the mix and see what kind of chaos/cuteness occurs at the aquarium🤭 Thanks so much for this amazing request and for your patience, I appreciate it!!🫶❤️ sorry I was gone for so long but I hope you love this!!

Go(jo)ing to the Aquarium

Fluff

Dad!Gojo x gn!reader

Warnings: none

*Just fyi I'm using y/c/n to signify your child's name!

"Dad! Dad, hurry up! I wanna see the fish!"

You snickered at your impatient child, taking hold of her hand. "Calm down, y/c/n, Dad's going as fast as he can." You turned to Gojo, who was busy pulling out his wallet to pay for admission. "You heard the girl. Hurry up. The water will be evaporated from the tanks by the time you're done here."

Gojo pouted as he handed over his credit card to the employee. "No fair, you always take her side."

You smirked. "She's cuter."

Gojo turned to your daughter. "Your other parent is a meanie. I wouldn't listen to them all day if I were you."

"Satoru!" you exclaimed, lightly swatting at his arm. "Don't encourage her. She already takes after you enough."

"Fish! Fish! Fish!" your daughter chanted as Gojo held onto the admission tickets, walking further into the building.

"Fish! Fish! Fish!" he joined in, causing you to send an apologetic look to the employees and other visitors for the two children you were in charge of.

"Where to first?" you asked your family, and they quieted down as they thought long and hard.

"Turtles!" y/c/n said after a minute of silence.

"Turtle exhibit it is then. Do you have the map?" you asked Satoru.

"Pssh, who needs a map? I see it all, remember?" he said, pointing at his blue sunglasses playfully.

"We're at an aquarium, Satoru, not in a domain. A map will do just fine."

"Have it your way," he replied, putting his hands up in surrender. He then squatted down to talk to y/c/n. "While they read the map, wanna look at the starfish over there?"

Y/c/n nodded enthusiastically and your husband and daughter ran off together. You couldn't help the smile that overtook your face as you observed them from afar. Sure, Satoru was a total goof-off, but you had to admit, he was a pretty cool dad. He was always fun and rarely strict, but he knew when to be serious, which made his childlike demeanor much more bearable. Although you joked around about it a lot, you were truly happy that your daughter was becoming more and more like him every day.

"Alright you two, I found the turtles. Shall we head that way?"

Your daughter nodded and Satoru took her hand, letting you take the lead. When you got to the turtle exhibit, you let y/c/n explore a bit on her own, as long as she stayed in sight and out of trouble.

"She's really something else, isn't she?" you mused, slightly leaning against Satoru.

"She's hilarious and headstrong. Takes after another amazing person I know."

"You're so humble, Gojo."

"I wasn't done," he said, nudging you softly. "Y/c/n is also extremely smart, passionate, and strong."

"Those still sound like traits of yours."

Satoru looked at you, his pink lips forming into a gentle smile. "Mm, I was thinking that sounded like another amazing person I know. Somebody by the name of y/n. Sound familiar?"

"Doesn't ring a bell." You pretended to think hard. "But they do sound pretty cool."

"They're the best person I know," he declared certainly. You swore you could've kissed him right there in the middle of the crowd, but you held back, instead opting to grab his hand and kiss the back of it.

"Let's go. I think y/c/n wants us to see something."

Your daughter was frantically waving you over.

"We're coming honey," you called out. "What would you like to show us?"

"Look! There's three turtles swimming together. They're a family, just like us."

"Yeah, they are, aren't they?" said Gojo, wrapping one arm around y/c/n and the other around you. You all stood quietly for a few brief moments, watching the turtles, until y/c/n broke the silence.

"I wanna see jellyfish!" she declared.

"Me too!" said Satoru. "But I wanna touch some manta rays first!"

"Jellyfish!" demanded y/c/n.

"Manta rays!" Satoru asserted indignantly.

"Don't worry kids, we have plenty of time to do both," you replied with a teasing smile. As your two favorite people ran off ahead of you once more, your heart swelled with love.

[miscellaneouzz]

More Vox Machina meta time bc I feel like people do NOT talk enough about how complex Pike and Scanlan’s relationship is. First off the show is very good at steering away from the typical he’s-annoying-so-she-eventually-gives-in misogynistic approach a lot of those types of dynamics have. Like it initially comes off as just cute and flirtatious until their dynamic ironically becomes the least romantically driven of the main ships in a way that’s far more layered than I expected. It always feels like Pike’s complicated feelings come with observing Scanlan from a distance, she’ll flirt back and play along but ultimately wants to see the person he COULD be, the more sincere and earnest side to him (which can also be tied to Zerxus’ comment about her taking pride in “redeeming” her friends).

But then from Scanlan’s perspective, becoming the person he “could” be means distancing himself from Pike completely, because he’s in love with her and in his mind he sees that as an example of him clinging to his old habits of “finding all the wrong ways” to fill his emptiness. His scene with her on the balcony felt like such a culmination of both their complicated feelings– him relying on those coping mechanisms and Pike recognizing that– and I think that’s part of why he cried and why Pike pulled away at the last second. After that scene, we pretty much see Scanlan stop pursuing romantic interest in Pike for the rest of the season, but she’s still the only person he’ll be vulnerable with.

So then comes this heartbreaking irony that Pike’s been wanting more sincerity from Scanlan for a while now, only for Scanlan finally opening up more about his feelings to include him saying things that end up hurting and pushing away Pike. Because now Scanlan being more vulnerable and sincere means finally admitting he doesn’t view Vox Machina as his “real” family and that he never thought he mattered when he was with them and I don’t think that’s something Pike was truly ready for. And in the end Scanlan is still defining his worth purely on his relationships with others– if he’s no longer pouring his identity into romance/sex, he’s gotta pour it all into his newfound parenthood. He’s still flawed and not in a way where everything just hinges on Pike to “fix” him.

I think when it comes to the romantic relationships in the series it’s the one I’m most invested in from a character perspective. They’re the only pairing that’s yet to sincerely confess or discuss feelings for each other despite how much their relationship focuses on the need for sincerity and it’s so interesting. Like through the relationship struggles of Keyleth x Vax and Percy x Vex, we still see them be more open and upfront with both the conflicts and resolutions of their feelings for each other.

Pike & Scanlan are the only ship we’ve seen neither for, neither a straightforward conversation on the conflict of their relationship itself nor a sincere resolution to their feelings. And I think it has a lot to do with the parallel you can make about their own crisis of identity. Their character motivations and struggles with identity are not entirely dependent on each other as Scanlan has a tumultuous relationship with parenthood and Pike with her faith yet they impact each other so deeply.

There’s a lot more to say BUT for now… onto whatever season 4 brings for the gnomes!

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ 𝕒 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!jeongin x girlfriend!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/comfort

♡ Summary: Jeongin's the type of boyfriend who never makes you question how much he cares for you. Still, there's one nagging insecurity you haven't been able to move past: Letting him see you naked. Sick of letting your fear get the best of you, you decide that tonight's the night to finally open up to him and it turns out you might've been afraid of nothing all along.

♡ Word Count: 2.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: body insecurities, nudity, a lil making out, mentions of sex, jeongin loves to touch your body, praise, and just all around fluffiness otherwise

♡ A/N: This started out as an anon request but I lost the post for that request (brb crying) so now we have a lil I.N comfort fic that will hopefully make my chubby Jeongin biased babes feel good in their skin cause you totally deserve to.

Moments like these Jeongin wishes could last forever. Between touring, appearances, and studio sessions his schedule’s been brutal lately, leaving him with little to no time to spend with the one girl he treasures most in the world—you. But tonight none of that matters. The world beyond the walls of his apartment doesn’t exist. There’s only him cozied up under a blanket on the couch with you cuddled against his body, your head resting on his chest as you lazily play with the strings of his hoodie.

The room’s dark except for the glow of the television. A movie’s playing but neither of you are truly watching it. His eyes are glued to you, committing to memory how beautiful you are from this angle. You seem so comfortable in his arms, so at peace, and the feeling’s infinitely mutual. 

Your own gaze is fixed on the screen but every image and sound you take in is passive. What you’re truly focused on is a thought that’s been cycling through your brain all night. Before you left to head over here you told your roommate not to wait up, you’d be spending the night at Jeongin’s place. Never one to pass up the opportunity to tease you, she asked if you needed to borrow a sweater or something to sleep in. You instantly regretted admitting to her over drinks that Jeongin has yet to see you naked, even after months of being together.

Whenever you have sex you keep the lights off and throw your clothes back on immediately after. If you shower and he’s around you always make sure to bring your clothes with you into the bathroom. Even Jeongin, who never wears anything to bed, always has something on when you sleep over to make you more comfortable. 

It’s nothing he’s ever complained about or tried to make you feel guilty for. More than anything he just seems happy to be with you, accepting your boundaries without hesitation. It’s one of a million reasons you’ve come to love him as much as you do. Still, you know that hiding from him isn’t something you can do forever. It isn’t something that you want to do forever.

“Baby” he says sweetly, petting your cheek, “You ready for bed?”

You take a deep breath, making up your mind that tonight’s the night. Your stomach sinks at the thought of how he might feel when he sees your body but at least you’ll know now before you fall for him any harder.

“Mmhmm” you nod, nuzzling your cheek against his chest one last time before sitting up. 

Jeongin hops up and gets to work clearing the snacks from the coffee table. With full hands, he leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. “You can go ahead. I’ll meet you in there in a second, okay?” 

You agree and gather the blanket in your arms, trembling as you shuffle down the hall towards the bedroom. It’s a short walk but it feels eternal. You’ve stepped through this threshold a dozen times by now but somehow this feels like your first. Suddenly the oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants that once shielded your insecurities have you sweating like a sinner in church. It’s suffocating.

Tossing the blanket onto the bed, you tug your hoodie off to feel the fresh air kiss your skin. The coolness eases the tension in your body, leaving your hands a bit less shaky as you slip your sweatpants down and kick them aside. You stare down at your body, taking in the sight of your bare legs and your fluffy thighs that are just barely visible in the long t-shirt you’re wearing.

Your chest tightens as you pinch the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric little by little. It slides above your thighs, around the contours of your hips, revealing the panties you chose specifically for tonight. They’re silk, rose pink, with a lace trim and a delicate bow in the back and they’re the prettiest panties Jeongin’s ever seen simply because you’re wearing them. 

“Did I, uh, miss something?” Jeongin asks, frozen in the doorway.

Usually when he walks into the room you’re already under the covers waiting for cuddles he’s beyond eager to give you. Being met with this is something new entirely and he can’t help the way his heart races at the sight of it. You turn to find him staring at you wide eyed, shock painting his face. 

“Well, uh, I…” you stutter, fidgeting with the trim of your shirt, “I know you don’t really like sleeping with your clothes on and the weather’s really nice tonight so I thought, maybe, it’d be nice if we did that.” 

Jeongin closes the distance between you, his shock melting into concern. He brings an arm around your waist, stroking your side as he studies your expression.

“Baby, I already told you I’m cool with our clothes being on. I never want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You rest your hand on his, soaking in the warmth of his touch. “It’s okay” you insist, immediately picking up on his skepticism. He doesn’t believe you for a second. You stare into his eyes, finding comfort in them even as they narrow in your direction. “I want you to see me, all of me, I don’t wanna be afraid anymore.”

“Afraid? Afraid of what? Did I…”

You cut him off before he can finish, refusing to let him believe for a second that there’s anything he did wrong. “No, Innie, you’re so good to me. It's just…I’m not the smallest girl. Feeling me is one thing but seeing me it’s…it’s…”

Your breath hitches at the sensation of Jeongin’s hands massaging your body. He smooths the plushness of your figure beneath his palms, stopping to squeeze your love handles, your belly, your thighs.

“Seeing you would be a gift” he whispers, his lips hovering near yours. “I’ve felt your body in the dark and I’m already addicted to how beautiful it is. If you take your clothes off or not, nothing will change. I promise.”

There’s no denying the rush that you get from being touched by him. You feel it every time, the impulse to let him tear your clothes off. The longing to feel his gaze dance over your naked body the way his hands do. Typically you fight it, your fears dulling your urges, but tonight you don’t. Instead you sweep him into a kiss laced with passion, guiding his hands to grip the fabric of your shirt. 

“Help me take it off, please” you beg, too cute to deny.

Jeongin nibbles at your bottom lip, “Only if you help me too.”

“Deal” you giggle as he steals your breath away, hungrily pulling you back into the kiss.

Your clothes are shed gently and slowly like the petals of a flower. One after the other, his and then yours. All the while Jeongin’s lips are drawn to yours like magnets. Every break he has to take is a small form of torture. You could kiss him every second of every day and it wouldn’t be enough. He needs to drown in it.

He can only bring himself to stop when he feels skin to skin contact. Your naked body’s pressed to his in the bright lighting of his room. He could see you if he wanted to, glance down and delight in the pleasure of something he’s only experienced in his imagination, but instead he focuses on your gorgeous face, his heart set on making sure this is what you really want.

“Can I look?” he asks, fingertips lightly trailing up and down your spine. 

You pause, pacing yourself for a decision you know you can’t turn back from, “It’s okay. You can look.” 

Time seems to stand still as Jeongin takes a step back and his gaze falls below your shoulders where your naked body awaits in all its vulnerability. His is the smooth, toned body that you already know it to be. You’ve caught glimpses of it here and there when he’s changed in front of you. And yours is beyond what he’d imagined during those long nights spent blindly exploring your form beneath the sheets.

At first he says nothing, does nothing. He only stares straight ahead, scanning you from head to toe. But just as the nervousness threatens to return he cracks a smile, his face lighting up, stars twinkling in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” He exhales the words as naturally as he breathes. 

You blush, a giggle escaping your lips, “Oh my gosh, stop it.”

“Stop it? How can I? Look at you.” 

Your self doubt wants to tell you that he’s lying—that these words you never imagined you’d hear couldn’t possibly be true—but you can’t deny the way Jeongin’s looking at you or the butterflies swarming your stomach. You try to bring your arms around yourself, a thoughtless attempt at hiding away again, but he grabs your hands, lacing his fingers between yours. 

“I mean it” he whispers, thumbs lightly grazing your skin, “Your body’s gorgeous and I feel lucky that you let me lay eyes on it. Thank you.” 

Your cheeks heat up and you dip your head down, too flustered by his words to maintain eye contact. Jeongin cups your cheek, tilting your head back up. He’s stubborn as always, refusing to let you escape his affection. 

“You think so too, don't you?” he asks, his lips floating back to yours. He almost kisses you, just almost, but lets his lips dance there, teasing you with their warmth. 

“Think what? I don’t…” you begin to speak but the feeling of his hands making contact with your belly steals away what was coming next. You let out the softest breath, bordering on a hushed moan. His touch always sets your soul on fire but this time there’s something different about it. Some new aspect of it that has your head all fuzzy and your knees going weak. 

“Think that I should feel lucky that I get to see you” he says, massaging the plush of your belly, “And grateful that I get to touch you.” 

He glides his palms down to your hips, taking indulgent handfuls of your curves as your body gives into his touch. Your fingertips run up his arm, feeling the ridges of his muscles as they flex with every breath. His body shivers, your quiet praise doing to him exactly what his does to you.

“You can’t say things like that, Innie.” 

“Why can’t I?”

“Because I might start believing it.”

Jeongin flashes you that dimpled smile, “Good. I want you to.” 

His lips collide with yours again and it feels like the whole room’s spinning because it is. He closes his arms around your waist, kissing you lovingly as he twirls you towards the bed. Before you know it your head’s resting on a pillow as your body sinks into the softness of the mattress. You can’t tell if it’s the mattress or the euphoria of Jeongin’s tongue tangled with yours but it’s like you’re floating on a cloud.

Jeongin kisses you like it’s the last time your lips will ever meet. His hands explore your body like they’re terrified to forget even the tiniest detail of what you feel like. The affection he pours into you is overwhelming yet you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop.

He saw you, everything about you, and the only place he ran to was your arms. You feel special, cherished in every way for exactly who you are. All your worries seem like nothing more than silly little things in the presence of his adoration. 

Finally breaking from the kiss, the necessity for air forcing your lips apart, Jeongin curls up beside you, keeping you in his arms as he slips a blanket over your naked bodies. You rest your head on his chest the same way you did on the couch, only now your mind isn’t wandering off somewhere far away. It’s right here with him, basking in the moment. 

“Promise not to hide from me anymore” he sighs, planting the sweetest kiss on your forehead. 

You relax into his arms, smiling as your heavy lids fall shut, “I promise.” 

You thought you’d feel more vulnerable lying beside him with your clothes in a pile on the floor but being like this with him is the safest you’ve ever felt, the most comfortable you’ve ever felt, in your own skin. Hide from him? And miss out on a feeling like this? Never again.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Right again • Tom Riddle x f!reader

Requested: No

Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader (+ SPOILER x f!reader)

Summary: Tom, who always thought relationships were meaningless, changed his mind when he met y/n. He plans on telling her how he feels, however, it doesn't go as planned, and he finds himself to be right - again.

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: Fluff; angst; English is not my first language.

A/N: It wasn't supposed to be this long lmao. I will write the same plot with Mattheo, Draco, Lorenzo and Theo in the future - hopefully with a better title lol. PLEASE PLEASE DON'T LET THIS FLOP OR YOU WON'T SEE ME ON HERE AGAIN LOL. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it! xx

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

Tom Riddle was in his dorm, one of the only places in Hogwarts where he could be by himself, and where he could be doing the things he enjoyed the most - studying and reading, both in silence. But, despite being currently sitting on his desk - always perfectly arranged -, he was not currently reading a book or studying. Instead, he was doing something he never thought he would do and was feeling something he never thought he would feel: thinking about a girl, and being nervous about a girl. 

Contrary to Mattheo and his friends, Tom has never cared for relationships - he could barely bear being around Mattheo’s friends if serious, meaningful discussions or activities weren’t involved. Sure, he cared for Mattheo, more than he cared to admit, because they were of the same blood. And for Tom, blood was one of the things that mattered the most, alongside loyalty, knowledge and influence. 

And y/n. 

Tom had always thought Mattheo was the only person he could ever care for - after all, they needed to have some sort of loyalty towards each other if they wanted to have a chance to fight their father - but, just like he was surprised to learn he did not want to follow his father in his quest for tyranny, Tom was surprised to find himself caring for y/n. 

Just like he had never cared for friendship, Tom had never cared for love. He did not think it was a weakness as his father did, but he did think it was not as important as people made it out to be. And, also, why care for love when something terrible, something that would likely cost lives was being prepared? 

But then again, y/n challenged that idea. Despite being in the same house and the same year, it took Tom several years to properly notice her. He knew she was one of Mattheo’s close friends outside of his usual group, and that gave them occasions to spend time together. Strangely, Tom had first found her company more tolerable than the others - she seemed to understand his will for silence, deep conversations and his interests, seemed to have the same thirst for knowledge. She was kind as well, having what people called “a heart of gold”, always ready to help anybody in need. She was also warm and funny, two things she shared with Mattheo, and it usually didn’t take people enough to want to be her friend. Tom had considered y/n the closest thing he had to a friend, and he thought he would stay that way until, one day, he saw her and Mattheo sitting closer to each other than usual, and he felt something strange, something he didn’t expect to feel, and something he struggled to understand - jealousy. He didn’t think it was that at first, but it became obvious it indeed was jealousy when he found himself wishing that he was the one sitting next to her, and not Mattheo. 

From that moment, he kept thinking about y/n in ways he had never done before - how beautiful she was, how he loved her smile, how he wanted to hold her hand, to smell her addictive perfume, to be the person who mattered most to her… how he wanted to hold and kiss her. He had considered those thoughts as foolish at first and tried to not have them, but everytime he was with y/n, they came back running, and he sometimes had to restrain himself from sitting closer to her just to smell her perfume when they were in class, or to hold her hand when they were studying in the library. He didn’t have anybody to ask questions to - Mattheo would laugh at him - so, like he always did, Tom gave himself the answer: it was love. At first, he thought it was only temporary and it didn’t even cross his mind to tell her about it, but he was forced to admit that, instead of disappearing, those feelings became stronger with each day passing. The idea displeased him, and he tried to avoid y/n so these feelings would go away, but it was in vain, and only made him miss y/n - and made him love her more. But one day, as he was sitting on his desk busy thinking about her instead of studying, the idea of just telling her how he felt seemed right. Of course, the idea of rejection secretly terrified him, but he would accept simply being her friend. y/n deserved a loyal, sincere friend and that is what Tom was. All she had to do was give him a chance he could be the boyfriend - the word seemed so meaningless compared to what he felt - she deserved, a boyfriend who would be loyal, caring, sincere, and who would put her and her needs and safety first.  

Thus, he got her favorite flowers, and, having thought about what to say to her for hours, decided to go and ask her to have a moment of her time. And now the time had come. He grabbed the bouquet, and, trying to pull himself together, left his dorm. At that hour, y/n should be in the common room. With a bit of luck, she would be alone. Tom headed for the common room, which was nearly empty except for two first years laughing. He started looking for y/n, and his heart, which had started to beat faster with nervosity and hope, almost broke. 

y/n was indeed here, standing in a corner of the room - kissing Mattheo, who had a hand on her waist and the other in her hair. He broke the kiss, looked at her in a way Tom had never seen him and y/n had a smile before Mattheo pressed his lips on hers like he couldn’t help it. 

Tom took a step back, and the only thing that stopped him from dropping the bouquet was the noise he knew it would make. He turned around and quickly yet silently went back to his dorm - where the flowers finally met the ground. His back against the door, he almost wanted to laugh now. How could he have been so foolish? It should have been obvious to him from the start that y/n, warm and kind y/n, would prefere Mattheo, Mattheo would everybody loved or at least fond of, who had no problems making friends and be with people, Mattheo who had never been anything like their father. Mattheo, who people didn’t intimidate or rightfully found cold and strange. 

You’ve won, brother. 

As always, Tom Riddle found he had been right. Love was meaningless, and he should never have cared for it - should have never cared for her - in the first place. 

He was right, but for the first time in his life, he wished he wasn’t.

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[sc4rrc]

Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason

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- 2012!Donnie x reader - Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason - Fluff - Warnings: None Request: Nope, just came up with this on my own whilst reading through some one shots of my personal favourite creators. You like Donnie, he likes you. But you're both as oblivious as ever, despite clearly showing each other that you care. And as a date is set between you and someone who is -clearly- NOT Donnie, he finds it hard to not feel jealous. ════════════════════

For quite some time, nearly since you met, both you and Donnie had held an affection for one another. Whether it was how he saved you and your friend, April, from the Kraang that first drew you to him, or the fact that he so easily got along with you from then on, it didn’t seem to matter. You became close from that point, and eventually you even took part in most of their missions—after you’d gotten more familiar with fighting through Splinter’s lessons.

A few problems did arise between the two of you though, like how oblivious you both seemed when it came to actually catching on that someone might be interested. Or the way doubt crept in because of your close friendship. He’d compliment you a lot, always ensuring your safety on missions, and you did the same for him. But somehow, you both missed the bigger picture. “It’s not something new; he worries about all of us during fights,” you’d tell yourself whenever April pointed it out.

And it was true; he always watched out for his brothers, too. How could he not? They were family. But there he was, watching you train, helping you improve when Splinter was busy.

Other times, you’d be the one to assist him. Sometimes you’d grab things from the top that he did not have easy access to, or simply keep him company in the lab to make sure he took breaks. Lunch, water—the basics. But one thing you both did constantly, no matter how oblivious each of you seemed in the moment, was stare. Even from across the room, one of you would be looking at the other. On movie nights, for example, you’d sit on the couch, Mikey on your right and Casey on your left, everyone focused on the screen—except Donnie, whose gaze would occasionally drift toward you.

He’d become well aware that he was absolutely, undeniably infatuated with you. Even he knew he sometimes went a bit too far with his attention, though his brothers never hesitated to tease him. Raph, mostly. But with his feelings also came doubt, for both of you. After so long, with neither of you daring to believe the other felt the same, you both wondered if it could ever work. You didn’t want to risk your precious friendship on a confession that might lead to rejection. So, silence it was.

“I don’t know, April. Just think about it. If I say something, and he doesn’t feel the same, then this might just ruin our friendship. And I don’t want that.”

Harsh words to admit, really. The thought wasn’t exactly pleasant. April had been trying for ages to nudge you both toward a confession, convinced it would lead to something good. Or maybe that was just the hopeless romantic in her, but she hoped nonetheless. And despite her efforts—along with the boys’ attempts to coax Donnie out of his safe shell—neither of you would budge. Sighing, she finally said, “That is fair, I suppose. But I still stand by what I said earlier. Forgetting doesn’t sound like the best alternative. I’ll help, but that doesn’t mean I’m agreeing with this plan.”

Her words made you smile in gratitude. Crushing on Donnie, though a genuine feeling, had become almost frustrating. He seemed so unaware of your feelings—close, yet so distant. It made you wonder if maybe he really didn’t feel the same. And yes, that stung a little. But it also made you realize that moving on might be necessary. For everyone’s sake, including your own. So, when a boy in your History class asked you out, you accepted. It felt like progress for a moment, but only for a moment. Soon, it became a test to see how quickly you could let go of Donnie, knowing that dwelling on him wasn’t helping you move forward. And after all, it was just a date—a way to focus on someone else. ════════════════════

When it came to being in that position—being told by the girl he couldn’t stop being so fond of that she had a date with some guy, a human guy no less—Donnie wanted to dig himself a hole in the lab and never come out. He’d imagined this day might come, and he felt like he was losing his chance—if he ever even had one. His heart sank as the words left your mouth, and it was hard not to show his disappointment. But for your sake, he put on a smile and congratulated you. He even wished you good luck. Then, once you left the lair, he retreated to his lab, shutting the door behind him, eyes focused on his work. Anything to avoid thinking about his growing jealousy, even for a moment. The others noticed the slump in his shoulders as he walked away but decided to let him be. They knew it might be a long evening in the lair, but they figured the situation might resolve itself—if it could.

--- Time Skip ---

Hours went by, some faster than others, and soon you found yourself back in your apartment, changed into a new set of clothes, ready to sleep the day away. Reflecting on what was supposed to be a date, you thought back to what he’d said: “Listen, I’m not really one for these serious things, ’kay? You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But I’ve got my ways around relationships, if you want to keep me happy.” That was about all you’d heard before mentally checking out of the “date.” He seemed nice at first but turned out to be a self-centred idiot—not the good kind of idiot either. And with all his talking, you made little effort to understand what he really meant.

You couldn’t recall the whole conversation, but you knew there was no way you’d repeat the experience. The things he said—about you and about others—were all wrong for you. He kept going on about some “party with girls” he had to get to, and the moment he crossed a line, you’d made your exit, realizing just how little interest you had in seeing him again.

You’d only just drifted off when a soft, rhythmic tapping at the window stirred you back to consciousness. Groaning, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and shuffled toward the window, squinting through the curtains. It could only be one of the guys, you knew, but the last thing you expected was to find Donnie, hanging upside down on the fire escape patiently, his expression hovering somewhere between nervous and excited.

Fighting back a laugh, you pushed the window open. “Donnie?” you whispered, the surprise obvious in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

He offered a tentative smile, voice low. “Hey. Sorry if I woke you. Just, uh… thought I’d check in. Make sure you got home okay.”

You laughed softly, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a bit late for a check-in, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I know, but…” He shrugged, his calm exterior cracking just enough to reveal a hint of nervousness. “Couldn’t help myself. April mentioned the date didn’t, uh… go quite how you planned?”

A sigh slipped from you as you pulled the blanket around yourself a little tighter, rolling your eyes. April, of course. “You could say that,” you chuckled. “He was… something, alright.” You caught his amused grin, the faint hint of relief there not lost on you. You shook your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips despite it all.

Donnie’s face softened, his eyes meeting yours. “Yeah, well… I think you deserve better than that.” His voice was quiet, sincere, but even he looked surprised by his own words, cheeks darkening just a bit under his mask. “I mean, someone who’d treat you better than that. A lot better, actually.”

A warmth spread through you, his words settling in, making you feel a little lighter after such a disappointing night. His gaze hadn’t wavered, and you felt yourself holding your breath, caught off guard by how much his simple words meant.

“Thanks, Donnie. For worrying about me,” you said, the words barely a whisper. Before either of you could overthink it, you leaned out the window and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Donnie froze completely, his eyes wide, his usual calm vanishing in a heartbeat as he stared at you, utterly speechless. It took him a second—maybe two—before he swallowed, blinking a few times as if to process that the kiss had actually happened. A deep blush crept over his face, nearly reaching the edges of his mask.

“Oh. I, yeah.. Anytime,” he stammered, his voice slightly higher than usual. His hand moved almost instinctively to where you’d kissed him, and for a second, he was all but suspended there, entirely lost in the moment.

You bit back a laugh, giving him a little wave before you gently closed the window and pulled the curtain back in place. A small thrill ran through you as you moved back toward bed, a smile lingering even as you settled back under the blankets.

Outside, Donnie remained still, one hand pressed to his cheek, replaying the moment over and over in his head. A grin broke out slowly across his face, unable to hold back the ridiculous happiness building up inside him. "Oh, man... She kissed me. She actually kissed me.” He couldn’t help the ridiculous grin on his face as he clambered back up the fire escape, his heart still thudding as he slipped back into the shadows, feeling no more of that jealousy from earlier. Not even the knowing looks from his brothers as he made his way through the entrance of the lair brought him fully back, his mind still stuck in that moment.

════════════════════ A/N: Here's my first one-shot. I think it turned out pretty good, considering nearly half of what I made the other night in drafts did not save. But idk if I should make a part 2 for this? I could, if I feel like it. It also depends on what you guys want so I might pole it, but the main idea is that I did it. (Also I love Donnie so much, he's so bf material.) - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

[darkintrinsic]

Devil's Night | Bad Omens

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

One day I woke up and wanted to be chased to the sound of Milagre.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X Female!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. It's devil's night and you've been invited to play. If you don't get caught by them, you win..

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). Foul language, alcohol consumption, masked men, stalking, reverse harem, why choose, taking turns, explicit sex, fear games, submission.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Devil’s Night.

The first time she heard those words, thought it was just another excuse for parties and excess, but here, in Detroit, it’s different. People speak of this night as if it were a tradition, passed down from generation to generation, almost like a silent pact that no one dares to question.

Yes, it’s Halloween Eve, but it carries a taste of danger that goes beyond costumes and carved pumpkins. It’s not about trick-or-treating; it’s more like… a rite of passage, where each person lets their dark side surface, testing their own limits and those of others. And the entire city, somehow, agrees to turn a blind eye to what happens in the shadows.

In the alleys and empty hallways, you can feel something waiting, hidden between the walls and beneath the fog that stubbornly refuses to lift. The seniors, of course, love it. They create challenges, make absurd promises to the freshmen, as if they’re initiating them into some ancient secret. But it’s not a secret; it’s more like a warning.

I don’t know exactly who started it—maybe some group many years ago, looking for a way to release their frustrations, or perhaps the city already came with this curse built in. But, either way, everyone participates, whether in the role of the observers or those who get lost in the night.

You were about to leave home, dressed up for another Devil’s Night in Detroit. Your friends had invited you over to drink a little before heading to the Lions' party, the fraternity responsible for the highest concentration of players that night. At first, you were ready to turn down the invitation, wanting to go straight to the celebration and get it over with once and for all, but seeing the flyer advertising the Geordin’s pub attraction made you change your mind.

Bad Omens was the main act in an intimate show, and you felt a bit excited to know they were back in town. It had been a while since you last saw them—if you weren’t mistaken, on the last Devil’s Night.

"Don’t tell me you’re not even a little excited to see him again…" Ash nudged your ribs with a playful voice, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"They’ve grown so much since the last time I saw them, Ash. They definitely have no idea who I am."

"And what if I told you that’s not exactly true?" Ashley’s glittering eyes blinked behind her long lashes as if she had some valuable information. She rested her hands and phone under her chin while watching you finish getting ready in the mirror. "I messaged Steve; we chat sometimes, and when he told me he’d be in town, I didn’t fail to mention your name…"

"I can’t believe you did that!"

"I scored us four VIPs tonight thanks to my shamelessness. No need to thank me, babe!" Ash winked and blew a kiss at her own shoulder, ignoring when you rolled your eyes at her boldness.

You didn’t want to admit it, but a strange sensation was building up in your stomach, making you feel cold with every step you took out the door. According to your friends, you looked good enough to draw a crowd to your feet, and deep down, you hoped they were right.

Geordin’s was, as always, sweltering, packed, and filled with people dressed up in Halloween costumes. You were just in a short black dress and heavy makeup—this date was special, a night for vixens to leave their homes in their smallest outfits, best heels, and bold eyes to be, for one night, what they longed to be all year.

At the bar, you grabbed a drink and walked with your friends to the VIP area near the stage. With each minute closer to the performance, your stomach grew colder, while your friends chatted excitedly beside you, never quieting for a moment. It had been a long time since you last saw him, and you tried your best not to expect him to remember any fragment of the past Devil’s Night.

“Welcome to the show of bad omens, my friends,” said the recorded voice from the speakers, making the crowd go wild.

The lights went out, and your body froze in place as the intro to the first song began. His voice was still unmistakable and unique, pleasing to the ear, even live, weaving together with the guitar and drum solos as if they were one.

When you turned to the stage, Noah was gripping the microphone with his eyes closed, and you allowed yourself to take in the melody, singing along with all your heart as you remembered why this was your favorite band. At the end of the third song, he glanced over the crowd as if looking for something, seeming about to give up, until his eyes finally landed on you.

A jolt of electricity surged from your legs, coursing through your entire body. Noah gave a brief smile and bowed his head, waiting for the next song’s intro. You knew the setlist, and this wasn’t one of the songs played at previous shows. In fact, you recognized it instantly; it was your favorite track.

Careful What You Wish For hadn’t been played in recent shows, but he knew how much that song meant to you, and he’d included it in Detroit just to show that he did, indeed, remember you. Something damp threatened to pool in your tear ducts; this song reminded you of moments you’d rather forget, moments the band had made more bearable to face.

As the final song ended, the lights went out, and the guys left the stage to the applause of the crowd. Your heart was still racing from the mix of emotions caused not only by the show, but by the series of subtle glances he had thrown your way during the pauses between songs. You bit your lip gently, gripping your glass a bit tighter, wondering if it could be a sign.

But you quickly brushed off that foolish thought and shook your head, dismissing it.

You and your friends finally arrived at the fraternity party, and all of you, including yourself, were buzzing with excitement to start the real celebration. Everyone was in costume, music was blasting, the smell of marijuana filled the air, and alcohol was flowing freely.

It seemed like the perfect night.

“I wouldn’t recommend drinking too much,” Ash warned, pointing at your glass as you sipped the colorful drink through a straw. “The games start in a few minutes, and you won’t want to be throwing up during the hunt.”

You laughed, remembering what happened last year when you mixed a few drinks with cheesy snacks, resulting in a puddle of vomit that took you home before you even considered playing the traditional hunt.

Every year on Devil’s Night, the Lions held a hunt in the Shadow Woods. The game involved all the guests being released into the forest, blindly searching to capture as many targets as they could until they reached the other side. With no flashlights or any source of light, identifying anyone became nearly impossible as everyone wore masks to hide their faces.

A certain chill lingered in your stomach, and a tremor in your legs threatened to shake your confidence, but you preferred to think it was because of the drink, not the fear of who your potential hunter might be. Your mind raced through quick strategies to avoid being caught, though not knowing the Shadow Woods at night made it all the more difficult.

With your feet firm on the earthy ground, you were as ready as the other competitors. You looked around, feeling adrenaline pulse through your veins, filling your brain like a song made to build tension until reaching its peak. You felt ready for whatever the night had to offer.

The whistle blew.

Your legs pushed you forward, running as fast as you could, straining your vision to dodge trees and jump over branches. You listened closely to the sound of dry leaves and twigs that snapped underfoot as the predators ran. All of them were desperate, hungry in their hunt for prey. At the same time, it felt frightening; it was exhilarating enough to make you push for more speed.

Energized, you glanced over your shoulder now and then, trying to detect any approaching threat, but as you pressed on, you heard fewer footsteps. Breathless, you slowed down and marked the trees with your fingers as you continued to walk carefully.

Your steps froze in place when you suddenly heard heavy breathing. The footsteps behind you moved over the dry leaves, signaling that your hunter was approaching stealthily, like a snake. Slowly, you realized your feet didn’t obey the commands in your head—they wanted to keep running, but your body remained there, unmoving.

He knew there was no point in running. He knew you were lost. He knew you didn’t want to go anywhere.

“Good girl.” His voice whispered close to your ear, making you jump in shock. “You didn’t let anyone else catch you. You waited for us like a good girl.”

“She knew that no matter where she hid tonight, we’d find her.”

“We always find you…”

Through your peripheral vision, you counted all four of them, gathered in balaclavas, closing off any way out. Swallowing dryly, you felt your breathing falter as they each took a step closer, forming a claustrophobic barrier around you.

“Now you’re ours.” Noah’s voice echoed in your ear as you felt the fabric of his balaclava graze your cheek. “Once you lose the game, you become our prize.”

A brief jolt made you sit upright when you felt something wrapping around your wrists; he was tying your hands together with a rope. The remaining length of material was used to fasten another knot around your neck, this time slightly tighter.

In your mind, there was no room for doubt, because you remembered the main rule of Devil’s Night. You were free to make your desires real for one night.

Why not surrender to them?

Slowly, Noah pulled you along the length of the leash, and stumbling a little in your own steps, you followed him. He exuded a scent of sweat mixed with Savage cologne; his arms were exposed by the black tank top, and he wore cargo pants and boots. Each determined step he took made you tense up, fearing what was to come, and the walls in the form of men surrounding you added to your apprehension.

Your steps halted when the tall man pulling your collar from the front froze in place. The forest offered little light, and thanks to the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the trees, you could see the intricate tattoo designs on his back, partly covered by his tank top.

A breath, subtle but present, brushed your ears with warm breath from behind.

"How about a game?" Folio’s voice was so soft it seemed to dance at a unique frequency. "We’ll ask a question, and for each wrong answer, you lose a piece of clothing."

"A game is only interesting to me if both parties are involved. In that case, what do I get if I’m right?" You dared to respond, challenging him with a side glance.

"Don’t act as if you don’t like the idea of not being in control for a few hours…" Folio taunted, stepping closer with a deadly step. His body was too close this time. "All you desire is for the reins to be in someone else's hands, just for one night, someone who knows your dirty mind well enough so you don’t have to spell out what you need. Am I wrong?"

You weren’t afraid of anything and made a point to shake your head in defiance.

"Wrong answer."

"Not at all!" you contested without much conviction. Deep down, defying him and contradicting yourself with feigned reluctance was part of your game.

The cold wind touched your back just as one of their fingers slid the zipper of your dress down, exposing your bare skin. Slowly, you felt the fabric glide down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever it passed.

You shrank a little, feeling a hint of discomfort when you noticed several pairs of eyes observing your exposed form, but a tug on the leash immediately made you lift your chin.

"Don’t you dare lower your head, darling" another voice murmured as a finger traced along your chin, the wetness of a tongue brushing against the skin of your ear. "Not when you have a body like this. We can savor you without even touching. Consider yourself a goddess, displayed for adoration and worship."

Gently, he slid his hand from your chin to reach your cold-stiffened nipples, slow circular movements warming your thighs as Jolly’s voice stimulated you, his hands exploring your body without any rush.

They wanted you to surrender.

Indeed, you were already theirs.

For just one night, you belonged to them.

In front of you, Noah watched you with a tilted head, as if watching an intimate moment of pleasure was amusing to him. He wrapped the excess of the leash around his hands until it tightened, lifting your neck up toward him.

In one last visceral glance, Noah pressed his lips against yours.

A fierce kiss, charged with desire pent up since the last visit, filling every corner of your mouth, leaving you wanting for absolutely nothing. Between breaths, you let out a contained, low moan as those hands moved from your chest down to your hips.

His fingers, when they found your entrance, sent a current of electricity through the rest of your body. Jolly was warm and soft as a rose petal, he tortured you with the slowness of his synchronized movements on your clitoris and during the kiss you held Noah's lips between your teeth gasping a heavy moan.

Noah smiled, feeling how his body twitched in his friend's hands, he released his lips and dragged them down his face, allowing his moan to reverberate through his ears more clearly.

Just when you were about to give signs that you were going to collapse under Jolly's fingers they suddenly stopped. You panted and wanted to show that you were disappointed, but you didn't have time, Noah pulled you by the collar and turned you so that you were facing away from him. A quick scream escaped your lips at the surprise of the impact of your hips against his, you felt his bulge harden and let out some air through your nose.

A soft hand ran its thumb over her face, a caress similar to the one she felt on her ass as Noah explored her. At the same time they used their thumbs, Noah lifted your dress until you were completely exposed to prepare you, he dipped his fingers in your wetness and seemed to delight in it. Their eyes were fixed on the man before them, gently brushing strands of hair away from his face and lifting his chin.

“Good girl, good girl.” he whispered, sliding his thumb into your mouth, without breaking eye contact, you sucked his finger slowly until you reached the tip.

You watched as Folio grunted and finished sliding his cock into his free hand and bringing it closer to your face, passing it across your lips slowly. You moaned from containing the desire to take him in at once, and from having Noah playing with his head at your entrance in rotating movements. Little by little you relaxed and used your tongue to greet him and a smile formed on your lips when you saw him sigh once again.

Folio grabbed your hair with a little force and demonstrating that the provocation had made him lose his mind, he shoved his dick into your mouth at the same time as Noah entered you. Your screams were silenced by Folio's cock, you used your tongue to drool all over the compliment and without the help of your hands that were trapped you covered his head with the roof of your mouth. As you sucked him, you felt Noah bump his hips against yours in strong thrusts, pulling the collar from your neck each time he penetrated and stopped with his rigid member inside you.

Your legs shook from the force he used, you pressed him against the walls of your pussy and heard him mutter yet another curse due to the lack of space. Her head didn't stop for a single second, going down and up, sucking Folio's cock while he helped her with his hand in her hair.

With each of Noah's thrusts, you felt Folio's cock tear into your throat and you dedicated yourself to not leaving a single space without the contact of your tongue. He pressed your head down more and you enjoyed the taste of the skin trying to contain the entire volume. Noah grew harder and harder inside you and in an explosion of sensations for a few seconds your legs seemed to float.

This was the effect of the devil’s night.

It allowed you to fulfill even your darkest fantasy.

For one night.

[cilil]

Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?

Hey! :)

I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).

Share what you feel comfortable sharing.

So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.

Don't worry too much about "being good".

I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.

That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.

How to get better without trying overly hard.

Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.

I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.

Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.

So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.

Feedback, criticism and community.

Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.

The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.

Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.

But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)

Find your groove and groove along.

Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.

Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.

Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.

So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!

[confiaenanaa]

sweet girl - eminem

fem!y/n x B. Rabbit

masterlist

synopsis: y/n finally meets Lily after Rabbit decides they're ready.

warnings: cursing, mention of sexual actions

A/N: hope y'all enjoy! if y'all have more prompts, share!

Y/N sat in bed, reading her newly-found favorite magazine. As she turned the page, she felt a buzz under her leg. She sat up, searching for her phone (which she'd presumed had made the buzzing). She opened it to find a text from none other than her beloved boyfriend, Jimmy.

"Hey baby. Can you call right now?"

She had to admit, she was a little surprised. This was supposed to be his break time, during which he never called. She texted back quickly, wondering what could possibly warrant a call during his beloved 20 minutes of break.

"yeah. what's up?"

Y/N started to grow anxious. Why is he calling? Did he want to break up with her? Did he do something he shouldn't have? Did she do something to upset him?

Before she could finish her thoughts, her phone rang. Caller ID: jimmy :)

She answered by the second ring.

-Hey! What's up Jimmy? Why'd you call?

Jimmy smiled behind the phone. He was glad he was doing this.

-Hey baby. Just wanted to know if you could come by my place today and sleep over.

-Yeah, I can come by soon. Who's your sister staying with?

Every time she'd come by Jimmy's house, it was for a quick fuck or to hang out for a few hours. And Lily was never home during these sessions. Jimmy didn't want Y/N meeting her and Lily getting attached without knowing that Y/N was trustworthy.

But, by now, he knew she was ready to meet Y/N and Y/N was ready to meet her.

-Actually, I was hoping if you'd want to meet her today. I think it's time.

Y/N was basically jumping up and down with joy when she'd heard this. But she had to keep her cool.

-Uh, yeah. Yeah, I can come by and meet Lily for the first time.

When Y/N approached Jimmy's door, her legs began to shake a bit. Whatever Lily thinks of her could make or break her relationship with Jimmy; plus, she wasn't a huge fan of the idea of her boyfriend's little sister hating her.

Jimmy heard rapping at the door and stood up quickly. He'd already told Lily she was going to be meeting his girlfriend today; she seemed quite calm about it. To be honest, she was more calm than he was. He was praying to every god known to man that they'd get along. He opened the door and saw Y/N standing there with her duffel in hand and some snacks to share.

He smiled and let her in and called Lily into the room to say hi. Y/N was a bit tense, but it was now more out of excitement than anxiety. She looked to the doorway and saw a timid little thing with bright blonde hair staggering over to the couch.

-Hi, you're Lily right?

Y/N immediately softened her voice when she spoke to Lily. She seemed so sweet and quiet, Y/N knew immediately that they were going to get along just fine.

Lily nodded and looked her in the eyes. She then shifted her eyes to look at Jimmy behind Y/N. Jimmy smiled to try and reassure her.

-Y-Yeah. You're Y/N... right?

Y/N's heart broke at seeing Lily's reluctance to show her true self around people.

-Yeah! Say, Lily, what do you like to do in your free time?

-I like to watch cartoons and draw...

-Hey, me too! You wanna go do that now?

Lily nodded and a big grin began to crawl up her face. Jimmy smiled and sighed in relief knowing that everything was going to be okay.

Lily was in bed, probably dreaming of unicorns and princesses. Jimmy held Y/N close in his arms while they laid in bed, staring at the ceiling.

-She really likes you, you know?

Jimmy asked, smiling at the memory of Lily telling him how awesome Y/N was.

-I'm glad. I really like her too. You know, when you asked me over, I thought you were wanting to do something else.

Y/N said, slightly smirking. Jimmy chuckled and playfully slapped her on the shoulder.

-You wish that's what we were doing.

-Nah. Meeting Lily was better. They both giggled, feeling content. Then, they fell asleep in each other's arms.