#deep** wow spelling

[p2ii]

I love when ppl portray swords and ships in one piece as sentient but especially zoro's swords cause it fuels my posic+/objectum!zoro thoughts

[streatfeild]

speaking of geoffrey streatfeild and my heap of wips: have the (unfinished) portrait i‘ve been working on the past 2 days.

[miupow]

UNDER THE MOON

★ pairing。lee felix x fem!reader genre。⧼ 📖 ⧽ smut , comedy , pwp warnings。minors do not interact! demon!felix , witch!reader , magic , breeding kink , unprotected sex , sub to dom , oral (f. rec) , vaginal fingering , cowgirl position , mating press , creampie , overstimulation , dacryphilia , squirting , breast play , marking , size kink , monster cock felix lol , dirty talk , praise kink , degredation kink , name calling , power play , bulge kink , orgasm control , strangers to ???

★ synopsis。you accidentally summoned the wrong demon , but you won't let that get in the way of getting what you want.

a/n ⸝⸝ not proofread lol. let me know if there are any mistakes! this is my second longest fic to date, wow... i hope you all enjoy ! [ 5. 5k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

any respectable, well-to-do witch knows that the perfect time to summon a demon is during the full moon. that was when the boundary between the living and the otherworldly was at its most blurred, and a person's magical ability was especially potent– you could feel it thrumming through your body just under your skin, concentrating at your fingertips, just begging to be released. accompanied by your excitement and nerves, you felt simply alight with power.

even then, you still couldn’t believe you managed to summon a demon.

the force of the summoning makes him fall flat on his ass, thick black smoke filling up your bedroom and snuffing out your ritual candles– you can only get a good look at him once the smoke clears out of your open window, the moonlight illuminating his form in the darkness. the first thing you notice are his mismatched eyes, wide and wild as he takes in his new surroundings; one was a deep dark brown, the other an icy steel blue, his pupils slit like a feline’s. his otherworldly beauty takes your breath away, a smattering of freckles across his high cheekbones, heart shaped face framed by curled black horns and platinum hair that cascades down to his shoulders; his inquisitive gaze travels to the summoning circle he was laid out on, ancient runes etched into your hardwood floor, and then to you, peering down at him from the edge of your big pink bed.

“h-how did you do that?!” the demon finally asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. his thick aussie accent surprised you— you didn’t think demons could have accents other than whatever one they have in hell. “where did you learn how to do that?” 

“hello to you too,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “i summoned you here with my family spell book.”

“spell book?” he echoes, taking another look around your frightfully girly bedroom— he’s quick to spot a rather old-looking tome left open on the floor near where he sat in the summoning circle, propped up with a beady-eyed stuffed animal. 

“it’s been in my family for generations.” you stand to pick the spell book up off the floor, dusting the smoke residue off the pages. 

the demon blinked up at you, odd eyes raking over the lacey little nightgown you were wearing. “you, um, don’t really look like that kind of girl...” 

“the kind to be a witch?” you laugh. “i just summoned you here, didn’t i? listen, i need your help.”

“my help? with what?” he moves to stand up as well, patting down his crumpled leather vest— he’s much, much taller than you expected him to be.

you hide your gulp with a dramatic scoff. “i want to make a deal with you, idiot; what else would i have summoned you for?! that’s what you do with demons, isn’t it? and, like, sign over your firstborn or whatever.” 

the demon stares at you in abject disbelief for a moment before dropping his head into his hands. “you humans are so stupid…” he mutters under his breath. “i’m not even that kind of demon. i can’t make any ‘deals’ with you.”

“bullshit! what do you mean you can’t make deals with me?!” you retort, crossing your arms. “the spell specifically said it would summon an entity that would make all my dreams come true!”

the demon blanches and stutters, his freckled cheeks turning pink. for some reason, you didn’t think that demons could blush. “um… well, about that…” he laughs nervously. “i’m an incubus. not the kind of demon you’re looking for, i think… i’m not even that good of an incubus, to be honest with you…”

you cock your head, watching as the demon shuffles his feet, his pointed black leather boots scuffing up your floor. “why do you say that?”

“i’ve never been summoned like this before, by a mortal…” he admits softly, his blush deepening. “i’ve never been in the human realm at all before; i’m supposed to be using you mortals to strengthen my powers, prey on you in your sleep… but i’m just too nervous! you humans frighten me… the other incubi make fun of me for it. i’m a terrible demon, you probably need to summon someone different…”

his sad pout was so cute for a demon from hell, and you can’t help but giggle a little meanly at the incubus’ plight. “you’re a virgin incubus? i never thought there was such a thing…”

the demon scowls, his pretty face screwed up in a way that wasn’t intimidating in the slightest. “don’t laugh at me.” he whines petulantly, “i could kill you right now if i wanted to.”

“sure you could, loser virgin incubus.”

the demon’s scowl deepens, trying very hard to keep his odd eyes from wandering their way down to your breasts, pushed up in your nightie by your crossed arms. “shut up. don’t call me that.”

“what should i call you then?” you snicker. you can’t help but revel in the way the demon’s eyes eat you alive— while he seems gentle and harmless, the way his mismatched eyes seem to glow with something dark and venomous when he looks over you leaves you shivering. something darker seemed to be hiding just under the surface of this seemingly innocent incubus… and you yearned to discover just what that was.

“felix. my name is felix.” the demon— felix-- mumbles to his shoes. he seemed to have noticed that you’ve caught on to his staring, anxiously avoiding eye contact. cute.

“that’s not a very demonic name.” you remark playfully. “i like it, though. it suits you, felix.”

felix huffs and rolls his eyes, but you can see the beginnings of a shy smile tug at the corner of his lips, his sharp, vampire-like teeth poking out in an oddly endearing way. you won’t let his cuteness distract you, though— you took all this time and effort to summon him, and you were determined to not let it get wasted.

“so… do you have any cool powers or anything?” you press, “like, could you maybe… make somebody fall in love with me?”

felix blinks owlishly down at you. “um… what?”

“listen, there’s this guy on campus i like, right? he’s my roommate’s best friend and he’s just so dreamy… but he’s in love with this girl i can’t stand. it’s like he’s obsessed with her, it’s disgusting.” you huff, curling your lip. “i just want him to forget about her and see what he’s missing! can you make him fall in love with me or something, like cupid? make him obsessed with me instead— you can do that, right?”

“er, well, kind of—”

“you can? perfect!” you clap your hands excitedly. “do i just need to tell you his name, or—”

“wait, wait—” felix interjects with a flustered stutter, “hold on a moment! w-what’s in it for me? i don’t go around doing favors for free, you know.”

you think for a moment, an ingenious and devilish idea quickly forming in your head as you slide your gaze down felix’s fit body. you never expected hell’s demons to be so drop-dead gorgeous, but you supposed it made sense with him being an incubus and all… slowly your lips pull into a devious grin. sure, you summoned the wrong demon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do your bidding anyway.

“you want to be a better incubus, right? want the other demons to stop making bullying you?”

“well, yes…”

“i can help you.” you offer, taking a step closer to the nervous demon in front of you. “i can teach you everything you need to know about pleasing a human… if, in return, you use your little demon powers to help me out.”

it takes felix a second to process just what you’re proposing, his eyes widening comically and his mouth dropping open in a gape. the blush on his freckled cheeks now burns crimson red, all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. “wh- wait, really, you— with me?!”

you nod with a sensual smile, taking another slow step forwards; just close enough to reach out and run a finger down his chest. “you help me and i’ll help you, okay?”

felix’s eyes flicker down to your lips, his adam’s apple bobbing with his gulp, and you can see it on his face when his flimsy resolve crumbles. “you’re lucky you summoned one of hell’s nicer demons, no other demon would ever agree to something like this— mmffh!”

you grab him by the lapels and pull him into a kiss in the middle of his sentence, his last words smothered on your soft and persuasive lips. he returned your kiss with reckless abandon, whimpering into your mouth. he was far too good of a kisser to be as inexperienced as he claimed, the tenderness leaving your knees weak and your thoughts spinning. a thin string of spit connects your wet lips when you pull away for air, snapping when felix darts a forked pink tongue out to lick his bottom lip in a daze.

“wow…” he whispers in awe, his sparkling eyes gazing at you through lowered lashes. “kissing humans is so much better than i thought it would be…”

his lips recapture yours, more demanding this time as that sinful forked tongue coaxed your lips open and explored the recesses of your mouth. the savage intensity of it sends a shock wave through your entire body, your senses short-circuiting— you tear your lips from his, quickly turn him around and push him onto your pink floral mattress. once again, you nearly succumbed to his distractions.

felix lets out a huff when his backside hits the bed, confusion paralyzing him just long enough for you to begin slowly undressing.

“woah, a little impatient, are you?” felix laughs, “you humans can never take anything slow…ly…”

he grows quiet as you slide the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, the thin lace fabric pooling around your ankles. it left you completely bare except for a pair of tiny cotton panties, a little wet spot already visible in the white fabric. he ogles at your tits, round and perky with your nipples beginning to harden in the cool air.

his hungry gaze roamed over your figure, taking in your soft curves and tummy, dropping to follow your hands as you pull your panties down your thighs. they join your nightgown on the floor, and felix gets his first look at your pussy as you step out of them and kick them to the side.

“wow… you are so… beautiful.”

the sincerity in which he says it makes both your heart and your pussy flutter. you can’t hide your eagerness as you saunter forwards and begin to climb up on felix’s lap. “are you ready for your lesson?” you purr into his ear, your hand sliding up his thigh towards the growing bulge in his pants. just the size of the bulge alone makes your head spin— and he’s not even fully hard yet.

“h-hold on,” felix whimpers, grabbing your wrist, “you’re so small and, you know.. human sized… shouldn’t i, um, prep you? i don’t want to hurt you, i’m not one of those kinds of demons.”

you look back down at his bulge, just out of your reach with his fingers around your wrist. “that’s probably a good idea…”

you slide off his lap, positioning yourself in the middle of your bed; you rest your head among all your pillows and stuffed animals, all cute and cuddly and nothing at all like the dark energy that filled the room, the wicked smile on your face as felix crawls up the bed and in between your parted legs. he stares enthralled at your pussy, spread open all for him to admire— his hands come to grasp at the meat of your thighs, seemingly trying to ground himself as he takes everything in.

“oh, fuck,” he croaks, mismatched eyes glinting in the moonlight, “you’re already so wet, it’s dripping all over the sheets… it’s beautiful. have you been wanting me this whole time?”

your words get stuck in your throat, shuddering in arousal as you nod coyly down at him. he screws his eyes shut and lets out a deep, pathetic groan. 

“god, you’re so fucking sexy… i never thought i could get so aroused by a mortal.”

“i’m sorry, whose name was that?” you joke, still feeling mischievous even as your heart rattled in your chest. felix shoots you an irritated glare.

“oh, be quiet.”

he shuts you up with another searing hot kiss, demanding and passionate, and his stout fingers moved to tease at your wet, sticky folds. you gasp against his lips, squirming beneath him; the gentle stroking of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure through you, your pussy clenching around nothing but air.

“i’m not sure what to do…” felix mumbles, breaking your kiss to graze his lips across your jawline. “i’ve never done anything like this before… will you show me how to make you feel good?”

“just touch me,” you plead. “i want your fingers inside of me, please—”

felix starts with just one, short but deliciously thick as he slowly pushes it into your fluttering hole. “fuck, you’re so tight…” the stretch makes you cry out and claw at his shoulders, finally having something inside to ease the ache after being so needy for so long.

felix freezes with his finger buried inside to the knuckle, glancing down at you nervously. “did i hurt you?”

“no, no, feels so good—“ his hesitation would be cute if you weren’t so worked up, desperately grinding your cunt against his hand. “now move it in and out, nice and slow…”

he follows your directions dutifully, his movements slow and unsure, and despite his inexperience and anxiety, he quickly found a rhythm that flooded your shivering body with dizzying desire. waves of ecstasy crashed through you as you bucked your hips to meet his finger, whimpers and whines of delight falling from your open, panting mouth. his fingertip brushes your spongey sweet spot, electricity rippling under your skin and sending shockwaves through your core as you moaned in sweet agony.

“am i doing good, little human?” felix breathes shyly against your ear.

his eagerness to please made your pussy throb around him, sucking his finger in deeper—he was a quick learner, paying special attention to your sweet spot as you gushed slick all over his hand. “i think i am, you’re even wetter than before, it’s so noisy,” he accentuates his claim with a curl of his finger, the obscene wet squelches of your pussy ringing in your ears. “just look how well you’re taking it…is it okay if i add another finger?”

“yes! yes, fuck yes, please—”

he slides another fat finger in along with his first, his big eyes watching as he stretched your tight pussy out even wider for the cock you all but ached for. you sob in pleasure as he quickens his pace, curls his fingertips harder against your sweet spot. “wow, you can barely take two of my fingers..” the demon above you murmured in faux concern, “i don’t know if my cock will fit.”

you throw your head back with a lustful moan.

“tell me what you want from me.” he continues in a deep rasp, his accent only adding to the desire in his voice, “tell me what to do to make you cum.”

“t-touch my clit!” you hiccup, pretty manicured nails tearing at the fabric of his shirt.

you expect another finger, maybe his palm—what you don’t expect is for felix to trail soft kisses down your chest and belly, lower and lower until his plump lips were hovering over the curve of your pussy.

“wh-what are you doing?!” you squeal as felix kicks your legs over his shoulders, “do you even know what you’re doing down there?!”

“no.” felix shakes his head with a grin before diving his head between your thighs.

he attaches his lips to your swollen clit, his long tongue dragging up between your folds to circle the bud with shocking precision. he sucks gently on your clit while his fingers pump deep inside of you, his pretty moans and groans muffled with his face pressed against your squelching pussy. “you taste so good,” felix mumbles, his wide, mismatched eyes blinking up at you to take in every one of your reactions. “fuck, i love this pussy so much… think you can take another finger?”

he presses in a third finger before you can even respond, pussy stretched past your limits as you sob out in pleasure. it’s overwhelming in the best possible way, his fingers quickly pushing you closer and closer to the edge as he licks your clit and slurps up your juices. the flames of passion raged through your very being, and you abandon yourself to the knot tightening deep in your belly. you haven’t felt pleasure like this in ages, yelping as felix sucks particularly hard at your clit, and without thinking your arms dart down to grab ahold of his twisted black horns. the growl felix lets out against your heated skin is obscene, dark and beastly as he buries his face farther into your cunt, quickens the pace of his fingers against your sweet spot. “fuck yes, nasty girl, that’s it— grab my horns and just take it!”

you use your grip on his horns to buck wildly against his face, the knot in your belly threatening to snap as felix pulls his fingers out to grab your hips tightly. his clawed fingers dig painfully at your flesh, but it only heightens your sense of pleasure as he shoves his tongue deep into your wet hole. he tongue fucks your pussy with vigor, his groans and growls growing deeper and more demonic as he fucks you to your climax. “pussy’s so fucking good, can’t get enough…”

“felix!” you squeal when the forked tip of his tongue brushes against your sweet spot. “felix, i’m close, i’m gonna cum--!”

“say my name again, scream it!” felix crows with his face still buried in your cunt, the dark, powerful boom to his voice that hadn’t been there before making you finally hurtled you past the point of now return.

you scream his name as you squirt all over his face, nasty and wet as you ride out your high on his tongue— you’re quickly catapulted into overstimulation, tears pooling in your lashes as you whine and attempt to push him off you by his horns. if anything, that just seems to spur him on more.

“fuck no, i’m not done,” he growls, a dangerous edge to his voice frightening you and making your spent pussy throb all the same. “i need more, can’t stop— need to make you cum again, and again—”

he devours you like an animal, otherworldly strength keeping him flush against you even as you thrash and push roughly at his head. he doesn’t stop until you cum again, soaking his face and your sheets in sweet sticky slick— your pathetic cries seem to snap him out of it, hastily tearing himself away from your trembling little pussy to look up at you in worry and alarm.

“i-i’m so sorry, i don’t know what came over me! i just.. lost control— that was good though, right?”

his pretty pink lips and swollen and wet with your arousal, his freckled cheeks and chin smeared with it, even his nose; he gazes at you with big, watery doe eyes, the opposite of how he had been looking at you when he had his face between your legs. you babble incoherently, scrambled brain unable to string together a single sentence, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of two back-to-back orgasms.

felix smirks. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

his odd eyes snap back to your spent pussy, the primal hunger in his eyes making you throb despite of how spent you already were. “you look so pretty like this, all spent… can you take more? i need to be inside of you, now.”

your own hazy, unfocused gaze lowers to the straining bulge in his leather pants— the size of it makes you dizzy, a little frightened, but your overwhelming need for more outweighs any fear, and you slowly move to prop yourself up. “can i ride you? it’ll be easier for me to, um… take it.”

felix nods excitedly, as obedient as ever as he moves to take your place on the mattress. his platinum hair splays out around his head like a halo, his pretty face so angelic despite the fangs, tongue and horns… the imagery makes you snort.

“alright, you can get on whenever you’re ready— ooh!~”

you swing your leg over his waist without hesitation, straddling him as you begin to tug recklessly at his clothes. you pull his vest and shirt up to his chest, revealing twitching washboard abs that made your mouth water, and loosened his belt and fly. tugging his pants down to his thighs, his red swollen cock slaps wetly against his abs, rock hard and drooling pearly precum from the fat tip. you moan at just the sheer size of it, long and thick with the prettiest pulsing veins— you’re barely able to fit your hand around it when you reach down to take ahold of him, relishing in the low whimper felix lets out. you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, watching in rapture as more precum leaks from the head and slicks up your hand. it aids in the slide of your tight fist, felix groaning out pathetically as your other hand slides up your belly to pinch and roll your budding nipple.

you slide his cock between your pussy lips, your slick and his precum mixing together to make a sticky mess. you let his cockhead brush against your clit, the sudden shock of pleasure making the both of you moan— felix’s hands are shaking when they shoot up to take ahold of your waist. the lust on his face makes your tummy turn, the tenderness and sincerity in which he gazed up at you. “if it’s ever too much, tell me, please?” he breathes, his thumbs stroking the flushed skin. ”forget about the deal.”

you open your mouth to answer, but find yourself unable to speak; his tip catches your entrance, the sheer size of it pushing against your hole leaving you breathless and stuck in a silent scream. it feels so much bigger than three fingers, more than anything you think you’ve ever taken, and you freeze in a confusing mix of frightened and aroused.

“shh, don’t be scared, human,” felix coos, his steady hands keeping you firm against his cockhead. he squeezes your waist reassuringly. “i’m not going to hurt you, i promise.”

his tip slides inside with a pop, the gummy walls of your pussy gripping onto him like a vice as he steadies himself and slowly starts pushing in— the burning pain of the stretch is quickly overshadowed by a flood of pulsing red hot desire, drawing you to a height of passion you had never known before. never had any lover made you feel this way, trembling with ecstasy as your greedy pussy sucked in more and more of felix’s demon cock. “you feel so good, you’re so warm, so tight— such a good girl, taking all this cock!” felix keens, eyes rolling back into his head as you take him all the way to the base, his shiny mouth falling open in a desperate string of moans when his cockhead kisses snug against your cervix. “oh fuck, you took it all!”

you both take a moment to relax and adjust, catching your breaths as you pant into each other’s faces; felix waits patiently until you’re breathing goes steady and you unclench your pussy around him, begin to squirm needily in his grasp. “okay, you can start whenever you’re ready—"

like a woman possessed, you start bouncing on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, his fat tip hitting so dizzyingly deep inside of you with every movement of your hips. felix throws his head back with a broken cry, his hands flying down to grip harsh fistfuls of your ass as you ride him. “oh fuck, you should have warned me! fuck fuck fuck, slow down!”

you’re deaf to his cries, unable to focus on anything other than the explosive pleasure that coursed through your core; you plant your feet on the mattress to help strengthen your bouncing, so fast and rough nasty wet slaps echoed throughout the room every time your ass met his pelvis. “you’re so fucking big, so deep inside of me!” you whine.

“you’re just using me like a toy… are you feeling good, baby? yeah?” felix whimpers, voice weak and wavering, “n-naughty little girl likes being full of big, fat demon cock? o-oh god, you’re going to ruin me…”

you answer him with a wail, crying out his name once again as you claw red scratch marks down felix’s taut, muscular chest and abs. the sting just seems to make him harder, his cock twitching inside of you as he moans in pain and pleasure. his noises border on animalistic, deep snarls and growls that go right to your pussy. his mismatched eyes lock onto your chest, your perky tits bouncing obscenely in his face, and he licks his lips with that dastardly snake-like tongue.

“perfect girl, perfect pussy, perfect little tits— do you want me to play with them? suck on them? tell me what you want and i’ll do it.”

“please,” you sob, “please make me feel good!”

felix pulls you down so your body is flush with his, his hands leaving your ass to pinch and roll your nipples. his grip on your breast is bruising as he squeezes and fondles, pulling one into his wet hot mouth— the combined stimulation of his fingers and his mouth on your puffy nipples sending your senses into overdrive, the new angle making his cock feel even deeper inside of you than before, carving out space in your tummy as you moan in delight. he bites down gently on your nipple, pointy teeth teasing your bud, his plump lips and talented tongue caressing as they slowly move from sucking your swollen, peeking bud to trailing down the swell of your tit. he kisses a searing path up your sternum, leaving dusky purple marks in his wake as his hands continue their onslaught on your tits, massaging and groping with tantalizing ferocity. “why do you taste so fucking good? every single inch of you is delicious…” felix murmurs against your fiery skin, his canines ghosting over your collarbones, “you marked me up, pretty girl, now i have to return the favor… i could just eat you whole.”,

“fuck me!” you squeal, dripping pussy spasming around felix’s fat cock as you crash your hips down onto his. “fuck me, please, need it harder!”

“fuck, don’t say things like that— it’s taking everything i have to stay in control, baby, pussy’s so good! i-i’m being gentle for your sake, if i could have you how i want you i’m afraid i might break you—”

his words go straight to your cunt, lighting a fire of need inside of you; with an evil little smile you suddenly stop bouncing, your ass flush against his hips as you begin grinding tight little circles. felix tears himself away from your spit-soaked chest, utterly debauched as he gazes up at you with wide, desperate eyes. “n-no, wait, why are you stopping!?”

“i want you to break me, felix,” you purr with a sharp glint in your eye, teasing over his scratch marks with the tips of your fingers. “i want you to lose control and let me have it, please—”

in an instant you’re thrown across the bed, your back hitting your mattress knocking the wind out of you, and he’s on top of you before you can catch your breath. his claws snatch ahold of both your legs and tosses them over his shoulder, folds you over as he resheathes his throbbing cock back inside your gaping, drooling pussy. with inhuman strength he takes complete control over your body, trapping you beneath him and leaving you helpless, unable to do anything other than lay there and take it as he rams his cock inside of you. his bulbous cockhead knocks against your cervix so hard you fear he’ll push through, such a witty girl brainless and fucked stupid split open with his cock nestled deep in your tummy.

“you never wanted it slow and gentle, did you angel?” felix goads, his deep voice gaining an echoing, demonic edge. “you wanted me to treat you like a slut from the very beginning… such a nasty little witch.”

his mismatched eyes catch on the little bulge his cock makes in your tummy, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust; he presses down on your tummy with a devilish grin and a moan, able to feel his cockhead pounding up in your guts. “you feel me right here, don’t you baby?”

“s-so d-deep—!” is all you can manage to whimper, your teary eyes threatening to spill from the overwhelming pleasure.

felix coos at your fucked out face, his sharp nails digging into the meat of your thighs in a disorienting mix of pain and pleasure. “so cute, taking my cock so well… will you let me cum inside? i want to— i need to fill you up with my cum.”

“yes, yes— god, i’m gonna cum, please!” you beg, any last shred of dignity leaving in favor for your impending climax. your need for release clouded your mind, unable to think of anything except for creaming around felix’s cock as he shoots a hot load inside of you.

“who? god’s not here, baby.” felix crows, mirroring your own joke with a chuckle. you don’t have the energy to even get mad at him. “just us— now tell me how badly you want this demon to cum inside of you. be a good girl and beg for it… maybe i’ll give you that firstborn you want so badly?”

your tears finally fall as you surrender completely to uncontrollable ecstasy, sobbing for felix to breed you as his hips grow sloppy. he’s so close to the edge, just as much as you— you can feel it in the shuddering of his body, his broken whimpers, the tightness in his heavy balls as they slap against your ass. you grab fistfuls of the bed sheets to ground you, keep you from floating away entirely as you lose yourself in pleasure.

“cum together with me, angel,” felix pants above you, thrusting as deep as he could inside inside your pussy, “cum on my cock as i put a baby in you—!”

you cum all over his cock in a rush of exalted endorphins, your pussy spasming violently with your third and most powerful orgasm of the night. your gummy walls clamp down around his shaft, trying to push him out and suck him in deeper at the same time; you can see a foamy white ring formed around the base when he pulls out to thrust back in, a sticky and creamy mess down his balls and thighs. finally, with an animalistic grunt, felix stills inside of you to add to the mess, hot thick ropes of seed flooding your womb until you overflowed. you’ve never felt so full in your life, slick and cum oozing out around where felix’s cock stayed buried deep inside of you. you ride out the aftershocks in each other’s arms, falling into an intimate embrace as you both work to catch your breath.

“fuck, look at that…” felix whispers after a long moment of silence, his hips moving gently to thrust loosely. more cum leaks out from where you were joined, the both of you moaning at the sight. “there’s so much cum it’s leaking out… a-are you okay? was that good?”

“good?! that was the best sex i’ve ever had in my life—” you reply, moving to prop yourself up, but felix pushes you back down with urgency.

“no, no baby, don’t move, you gotta keep it all inside! stay still while i push it in deeper…”

before you can protest felix begins to wildly pound into your spent pussy again, his cock still rock hard and throbbing against your walls— you cry out in surprise and overstimulation, more exhausted and drained than you’ve ever felt before, yet your greedy pussy opens up for him with ease. he shushes your sobs and hiccups, his caresses gentle but his eyes wild and dangerous… he’s gotten drunk on the power of your love, lost all control to the beast that had been hiding inside of him for so long..

“i don’t think that’s going to be enough… i’m not stopping until i’ve bred you proper, just how you want it, right? we’re not done.”

[raphael-angele]

It's all about the Hair

Regulus: *enters the Marauders dorm*

Sirius: Ah, look who it is! What happened? Did they stop funding the arts for you gothic kids?

Regulus: *head down*

Sirius: What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?

Regulus: *looks up at him*

Sirius: *knows smth is wrong* What happened?

Regulus: ...Malfoy said my hair makes me look like a girl.

Sirius:

Regulus: And that my eye color is stupid cuz it's not a real color.

Sirius:

Regulus: *sniffles* I'm not a girl.

Sirius: *takes a deep breath and takes Reg's hands* Are you okay? Did he hurt you?

Regulus: *shakes his head*

Sirius: *leads him to his bed and wraps him up* How 'bout I get us some cocoa and we'll talk shit about those other Slytherins?

---

Two days later:

James: Hey, did you hear?

Remus: What?

James: Malfoy is balding.

Peter: What?! How

James: Dunno. No one has the actual answer. Some say it was an accident and he burned his hair, or that it's a spell gone wrong, or he was being punished.

Remus: Yikes

Peter: Wow

James: I know...wish I could've thought of that sooner, it's genius!

Sirius, coming to the table: Hey, fellas. What's up?

Remus: Malfoy's balding

Sirius, who definitely had nothing to do with it: Ha! It serves him right.

Regulus, coming over: Sirius, I think we switched bags yesterday. This one has your chocolates

Sirius: Oh, thanks, Reggie

James: *looks over at Regulus* Wow...

Regulus: What?

James: I see your brothers day out to Hogsmeade was a success. Nice haircut.

Sirius: Yep. Now, you can see his pretty eyes better.

Peter: You look really nice, Regulus.

Remus: Yeah. You look a lot more you.

Regulus: *smiles* Thank you

[mmso-notlikethat]

me thinking about drunk buck again? shocker

"You know my boyf—mm, no, my ex b’yfrienddd," Buck slurred, pointing vaguely at the man sitting beside him. The guy— some guy named Jake, or maybe Jade... something like that—just nodded like this was the most riveting conversation of his life. "Mmm yes, he is my ex now. Anyway, he was great! No, no, wait, he’s my ex, he’s awful, you see."

The dude hummed in agreement, his lips twitching upward as if he were trying not to laugh. "Seems like it," he said mildly.

Buck squinted not looking at him. "You—you don’t even know him. He’s... complicated. Like, the most annoying person on the planet but also... amazing." He let out a deep, melodramatic sigh and took another sip from his glass. "He does this thing, this... smirk thing, and it’s like—like he knows everything about me, and it drives me insane. Ugh."

"That does sound annoying," the man—Jake said, tilting his head in mock sympathy.

"Right?!" Buck exclaimed, slamming his glass down on the counter. "But then he’d do something stupidly nice like, I don’t know, make me breakfast when I didn’t even ask or fix my stupid shelf that broke because I’m bad at, uh, shelves. And suddenly, I’m like, 'Wow, maybe I’ll just marry this guy.' But noooooo. He had to go and—ugh—be right. About everything."

Jake didn’t say anything, just quirked an eyebrow as Buck kept rambling.

"And now he’s my ex. You heard that part, right? My ex!” Buck hiccuped, slapping his hand over his mouth. "Oops. Sorry. Excuse me."

"Forgiven," Jake said, his tone unreadable. He sipped his drink like this was just another Tuesday.

Buck frowned at him, his drunk brain scrambling for something clever to say. He failed. "You’re very chill, you know that? Like... annoyingly chill. You remind me of him. My ex. I don’t like it. Or maybe I do. I don’t know. Ughhh."

“Must’ve been quite the guy."

Buck sighed, the weight of the world settling onto his shoulders. "He was. He... he really was."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence felt heavy, like it was trying to tell Buck something he couldn’t quite hear. Then he hiccuped again, breaking the spell.

"You’re cool, though," Buck muttered, waving his glass at the guy before tipping it back. "Not like him. But also... kinda like him. Weird."

Jake just smiled faintly, not saying a word.

Buck leaned heavily on the counter, staring at his empty glass like it was the source of all his problems. "You don’t get it. He’s the worst. Like... so smug. Always thinking he knows everything. And you know what? He doesn’t! He doesn’t know me! He doesn’t—hiccup—know what I want. No one does!" He jabbed his finger at the man beside him for emphasis.

Jake, still calm as ever, took a sip of his drink and nodded. "Sounds like a real piece of work."

Buck whipped his head around so fast he nearly fell off the stool. "Whoa, hey! You don’t get to say that," he snapped, his words slurring but his glare surprisingly sharp.

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "Why not? You just said it."

"Yeah, but—" Buck flailed his hands dramatically, nearly knocking his glass off the counter. "I can say it. I dated him. You? You don’t even know him! You’re just some... some random guy!"

"Fair point," Jake said with a shrug, but there was the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

Buck narrowed his eyes, his very drunk brain working overtime to keep up. "He’s not that bad, okay? I mean, yeah, he’s annoying and bossy and—" He paused, gesturing vaguely as if the words were just out of reach. "And stubborn. But he’s also, like... thoughtful and—" His voice softened, almost wistful. "Kind. He cared. About me. About everyone. Even when he didn’t say it out loud."

Jake hummed, his tone unreadable. "Doesn’t sound so awful."

"Exactly!" Buck said, throwing his hands up. "That’s what I’m saying! He’s... ugh, he’s the worst best person I’ve ever met. And now he’s gone. And it’s my fault." His voice cracked at the end, and he quickly ducked his head, pretending to study the wood grain of the bar.

"Maybe it’s not your fault," Jake offered, his voice quieter now.

Buck laughed bitterly. "Oh, it is. I mean, I wanted him to stay. I asked him to stay. But he was all, like, 'You’re still figuring yourself out,' and 'I’m your first, not your last.' Like, what does that even mean?!"

Jake’s expression flickered—something Buck couldn’t quite name, not in his current state. "Maybe he thought he was doing the right thing."

"Yeah, well, it wasn’t!" Buck snapped, slamming his hand down on the counter. "It wasn’t the right thing for me. I didn’t want right, I wanted him. And now I’m here, talking to you, and he’s... I don’t even know where he is."

Jake didn’t respond right away, just sat there, his drink untouched. After a moment, he said, "Maybe he’s closer than you think."

Buck frowned, squinting like the words were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. But before he could ask what that was supposed to mean, another hiccup cut him off, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"You’re weird," he mumbled through his fingers. "Why are you even listening to me?"

Jake chuckled softly, the sound warm and familiar in a way that tugged at something deep in Buck’s chest. "I guess I’m just a sucker for a good story."

"He is!" Buck said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "He’s—ugh. He’s just this guy, you know? But not just a guy. He’s... he’s smart, and thoughtful, and really good at all the boring, practical stuff I suck at. Like, he can fix anything. He once rebuilt an engine in his garage for fun! Who does that?!" Buck paused, hiccupping before continuing. "And he has this way of looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world, even when you’re being a complete idiot. Especially when you’re being a complete idiot. And then, just when you think you’ve got him figured out, he’ll say something so... so him—and it’s exactly what you needed to hear, even if you didn’t want to."

His voice cracked, and he dropped his gaze to his empty glass. "He made me feel like... like maybe I was worth sticking around for, you know? But then he left anyway. So what does that say about me?"

Buck groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "I don’t even know why I’m talking about him. He’s gone, and he probably doesn’t think about me at all anymore."

"Maybe he does," Jake said, his voice calm but carrying a weight Buck couldn’t quite process in his state.

Buck snorted, his head wobbling as he tried to look at Jake. "Nah. He’s too busy being perfect somewhere else. Fixing things, smirking at someone else, probably making them breakfast now." His voice cracked again, and he slumped forward, leaning heavily on the counter. "It’s not fair. I don’t want to miss him, but I do. All the time. Every damn day."

Jake stayed quiet for a moment, swirling the remnants of his drink. "Sounds like you really loved him."

Buck blinked blearily at Jake. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. Still do. But it doesn’t matter. He left."

"Maybe he thought you deserved better," Jake murmured, his tone so soft Buck almost missed it.

"Better?" Buck slurred, laughing bitterly. "There’s no better. He was better. He was it. And I messed it up."

Jake leaned back, his eyes studying Buck for a long moment. "Maybe he thought he was the one who messed it up."

Buck frowned at that, the words bouncing around in his drunken mind without fully landing. He opened his mouth to respond, but a yawn caught him off guard, and his head lolled forward slightly.

"Okay," Jake said, standing up and patting Buck’s shoulder. "Let’s get you home before you pass out here."

"I’m not—" Buck started to protest, but his words dissolved into another yawn. "Fine. Whatever. But only ’cause you’re so... so good at listening, Jake."

Jake chuckled, sliding Buck’s arm around his shoulders as he helped him off the stool. "Sure, that’s why."

The trip to the loft was a blur for Buck, his head bobbing as he mumbled fragments of sentences. "He used to—hiccup—used to cook pancakes on Sundays," he muttered as they walked. "Never liked syrup, though. Just butter. Who doesn’t like syrup?"

Jake made a noncommittal noise, holding Buck steady as they reached the loft.

When they reached the loft, Buck fumbled with his keys before Jake gently took them from him and unlocked the door. Inside, Buck stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"Whoa, easy there," Jake said, catching him with an arm around his waist. "We’re not done yet. Bed’s upstairs, right?"

Buck blinked at him, bleary-eyed, before nodding vaguely in the direction of the stairs. "Yeah... stairs. Stupid stairs. Who needs stairs anyway? I should just sleep right here." He sagged slightly, leaning heavily into Jake.

Jake sighed, adjusting Buck’s arm over his shoulders. "Come on, you’re almost there."

They moved toward the stairs, Buck dragging his feet and muttering incomprehensibly. Jake tightened his hold, practically lifting him as they climbed. "You’re heavier than you look, you know that?" Jake muttered under his breath.

"’M not heavy," Buck slurred, his head lolling against Jake’s shoulder. "You’re just... weak. Bet you’ve never carried someone out of a fire or... or something heroic like that."

Jake smirked faintly, his voice low and even. "You’d be surprised."

By the time they reached the top, Buck was practically draped over Jake, who maneuvered him carefully toward the bed. He eased Buck down onto the mattress, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him as Buck flopped back with a groan.

"Finally," Buck mumbled, eyes half-closed. "Hate those stairs. Hate... everything."

Jake crouched down to untie Buck’s shoes, his movements steady and practiced, as though this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. "Don’t worry, I’ve got it from here," he said softly.

Buck blinked down at him, his vision swimming. "You’re... nice," he mumbled. "Too nice. You don’t even... you don’t even know me." He hiccupped, his head lolling to one side. "I mean, you’re here, so you’re not that bad. But… you’re not him."

Jake’s hand stilled for a fraction of a second before he resumed tugging off Buck’s shoes.

"He’d probably—hiccup—he’d probably say I’m too much. Like I push too hard, or I don’t stop to think. But I just… I just try, you know? Maybe I try too much..." Buck’s voice cracked, and he let out a breathy laugh. "And now look. No one’s here."

Jake paused, his jaw tightening as he set the shoes neatly by the bed. He glanced up briefly, something flickering across his face, but Buck didn’t notice.

Jake’s hands moved to unbutton Buck’s jeans, and Buck let out a tired laugh. "I’m not... I’m not that kinda guy, Jake."

Jake snorted softly. "Relax. You’re safe."

He eased the jeans off and set them aside, then reached for Buck’s shirt. Buck swatted weakly at him but barely had the energy to protest. "You’re... too good at this. Bet you’re a pro at babysitting drunk idiots."

"Something like that," Jake murmured, pulling the blanket up and tucking it snugly around Buck’s shoulders. For a moment, his hand lingered on the edge of the blanket, his eyes scanning Buck’s face as if committing him to memory.

Buck stirred, his eyes fluttering half-open. "I miss him," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. His hand flailed clumsily for a second before it landed on Jake’s arm. "Tell him... I miss him."

Jake froze, his jaw tightening as he looked down at Buck. Then he covered Buck’s hand with his own, his thumb brushing against his knuckles for a brief moment. "I’ll tell him," he said softly, even though Buck was already slipping into sleep.

Jake placed a water bottle and some pills on the bedside table, his movements quiet and deliberate. He lingered there for a beat, his gaze heavy with something unspoken.

Leaning down, Jake brushed his fingers lightly through Buck’s curls, his voice low and warm as he whispered, "I don’t even look like a Jake, Evan."

Buck stirred slightly, a faint furrow in his brow, but his eyes stayed closed. Jake Tommy pulled back, hesitating for just a moment before slipping out, leaving the loft in silence.

Part2

[vunblr]

Fangs and Spells

Pairing: Worgen!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Soft-dom!Bucky. Possessive!Bucky.

Summary: Bucky, a grumpy worgen warrior, and his sharp-tongued mage partner are sent on a relatively simple quest that quickly spirals into chaos.

Word Count: About 12k.

Notes: Ok, this one is... heated, I'm sorry beforehand (not).

Worgen=Werewolf. I’ve been playing World of Warcraft for 15 years, and even though life keeps me away, I’m always eager to return. That said, you don’t need to have played WoW to enjoy this story (though if you have, feel free to comment!).

The golden expanse of Westfall stretched endlessly beneath a bruised sky, and the faint scent of rain hung in the air. Rolling grain fields, left untended for far too long, waved like restless ghosts in the wind. To the south of Moonbrook, jagged cliffs met the turbulent sea, its waves crashing against the rocks with a rhythmic, almost hypnotic fury.

It wasn’t an inviting place, not anymore. The days of bountiful harvests and tight-knit farming communities were long gone, stolen by bandits, gnolls, and worse. The remaining folk clung stubbornly to their land, driven by defiance and desperation. And if you asked them, the worgen prowling over from Duskwood to raid the struggling riverside farms were on top of the offender's list.

Near the cliff's edge, a small clearing hosted a half-pitched tent flapping uselessly in the rising wind. A warrior with a scowl etched deep into his face knelt beside it, hammering a stake into the rocky ground with more force than was strictly necessary. Standing a few feet away, a mage held the sagging canvas taut, glaring daggers at him.

"You had one job, Buck," she bit out, exasperated as the wind tugged at her robes.

“The idiot deserved it, and you know it,” he muttered, not bothering to look up.

She let out a humorless laugh, sharp enough to cut through the whistling wind. “Oh, I know. But that doesn’t mean you had to snap in the middle of the inn. For Light’s sake, Bucky, all you had to do was keep your temper in check. We were finally about to get a decent night’s sleep. But no, you had to let your claws show.”

His lip curled, and hint of a snarl escaped his throat before he caught himself. “The bastard invited you to ‘polish his greatsword’ while groping himself under the table. What was I supposed to do?”

“Nothing! Nothing would’ve been perfect. I could’ve frozen his excuse of a dick and left him weeping into his ale. Then we could’ve stayed, and maybe even conned him into buying an overpriced healing potion for his bruised ego since there isn’t a decent merchant in this God-forgotten place. But no, you just had to make it personal.”

Bucky let out a huff, standing to stretch his shoulders. The motion pulled his vest taut, and her eyes flicked down for the briefest of moments before she caught herself and snapped her gaze back to the tent. He mumbled under his breath, “He had it coming.”

She didn’t let him off the hook. “Please. You just took the opportunity to vent because Steve sent us to kill nagas on the beach. And you hate the coast because when you shift, the sand gets into your fur and other places you don’t-”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, waving her off with a sharp motion and an uncharacteristic hint of color in his cheeks. “Maybe that had something to do with it. But still, the bastard deserved it.”

She smirked, pulling the canvas tighter over the flimsy frame of the tent. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, big guy.”

He huffed again, crossing his arms, fixing his eyes on the distant horizon.

“Just... remember where we are,” she advised softly, "This isn’t Dalaran or some other cultivated place. These farmers deal with the Duskwood worgens six days a week lately. They don’t believe -or care- that there’s a way for your kind to regain their humanity."

He stiffened slightly at her words. She regretted saying them the moment they left her mouth, but he didn’t snap back. Instead, he shifted his weight, avoiding her gaze entirely.

"We got lucky you only half-shifted, and the owner just asked us to leave instead of raising some kind of alarm."

“Don’t fool yourself,” he muttered. “He didn’t call on us because he knows we’re here to deal with the nagas.”

“Maybe,” she allowed with a slight shrug. “But that’s not the point.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as the first fat drops of rain began to patter against the canvas.

Her voice softened slightly as she bent to secure the last corner of the tent, though her gaze stayed sharp. “Look, I appreciate what you did in some way, but you usually let me handle this kind of thing. The last couple of days, though… you’ve been broodier and grumpier than usual, and that’s saying something. This isn’t just about the beach, is it?”

He grunted, keeping his eyes on the stakes. “You’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve just forgotten my charming personality since it’s been a month since our last quest together.”

She quirked an unimpressed brow, crossing her arms as the rain dripped from the edge of her hood. “Thanks to your charming personality, almost no one in the guild wants to team up with you unless we’re raiding. And its why Steve pairs me with you, because apparently, I can ‘handle’ you.”

Bucky squinted up at her, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Yeah,” she continued, folding her arms tighter as her voice took on a teasing lilt. “So believe me when I say you’re ‘Buckier’ than usual right now.”

He straightened, looming over her slightly, and let out a quiet huff. “Think what you want,” he muttered, brushing past her to retrieve his bedroll from their supplies.

She wasn’t wrong, and he hated how much her observation rattled him. Worse, he hated how easily she could unravel the mask he wore, the one that kept everyone else at arm’s length. But he couldn’t explain why, not without revealing more than he was willing to.

He should’ve seen it coming. Every Gilnean, given their worgen blood, knew what it felt like, that slow-burning tension building incrementally until it exploded into something primal and impossible to ignore. His rut came like clockwork every year, and when it did, he disappeared from the radar, holed up in some remote spot until it passed. Sometimes alone, sometimes not.

This time, though, Steve had insisted the naga situation couldn’t wait. The bounty was too big, the stakes too high, and Bucky, hadn’t argued. He’d thought he had more time before his hormones kicked in. He’d been so wrong. And now? Sharing a flimsy tent with her and her sharp tongue? It was like throwing oil on a fire.

He glanced at her, and his gaze lingered longer than it should have. She was bent over the supplies, muttering under her breath as she organized their gear. The damp fabric of her robes clung to her frame, outlining curves he’d tried not to notice since… well, he couldn’t remember when it started.

He’d been drawn to her for longer than he cared to admit, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had started. Maybe it was her sharp wit, the way she never backed down from him, or the way she smiled at him when he wasn’t ready for it. Maybe it was just the way she treated him, like he was more than just a worgen with a bad attitude.

Whatever it was, it didn’t help now. Not when every glance, every stray brush of her hand, set his nerves alight and his thoughts spiraling into dangerous territory.

“You’re quiet,” she said, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Nothing to say,” he muttered, unrolling his bedroll and laying it out on the ground.

“Uh-huh,” she replied with skepticism clear in her tone. She didn’t press further, though, for which he was grateful. Instead, she settled onto her own bedroll.

The rain drummed steadily against the canvas above them, a soothing rhythm that contrasted with the storm brewing inside him. He clenched his fists at his sides, willing the heat in his veins to subside.

He just had to get through this. The nagas wouldn’t take more than a day or two to deal with, and then he could disappear before she noticed anything was off.

He hoped.

------

Maybe pitching the tent near the treeline by the rift hadn’t been their most brilliant idea. Sure, on paper, it seemed logical, far enough from the coast to avoid naga and murloc patrols, gnoll bands, Defias stragglers, and those damn coyotes. But the coastline's wind and chill seeped through their tent's flimsy fabric, turning the night into a teeth-chattering endurance test.

It wasn’t a problem for him. His worgen nature granted him a resilience she could only envy, but she was clearly freezing. He could hear the faint clatter of her teeth every now and then, no matter how she tried to stifle it.

Both of them were awake, though for different reasons.

“Bucky,” she whispered, cutting through the steady rhythm of the rain.

He didn’t answer, hoping she’d think he was asleep and leave him alone. She knew how hard rest was for him, how much effort it took to him to conceal just a couple of hours of sleep.

“Bucky,” she tried again, her voice sharper this time. “I know you’re awake.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes in the dark. “You can’t see a thing. How do you know?”

“Pfft. Because if you were asleep, you’d be snoring.”

“I don’t-”

“Like a cute little pig,” she added, cutting him off with an audible smirk.

He pressed his tongue against his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose. Maybe he did. How would he know? He didn’t exactly stick around for morning conversations after his usual flings, and no one had ever mentioned it before.

“Well, what is it?” he asked gruffly.

“I’m cold,” she admitted.

Oh, he knew where this was going.

“I didn’t pack for a quest in Northrend,” she continued, her tone edged with frustration, “and I’m freezing my ass off. Do your thing.”

He stiffened, dread settling low in his stomach. “It’s not that cold,” he dismissed, turning onto his side and hoping she’d drop it.

“Don’t be an ass,” she shot back, shifting to face him. “You know it is, and we could’ve been warm and cozy in the tavern right now if not for your macho display earlier.”

His lips twitched into a snarl before he smoothed his expression. “I’m not shifting.”

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, her breath puffing out visibly in the cold air. “You’ve done it before.”

“That was different, we were really in Northrend,” he grunted.

She rolled her eyes, but her voice softened a little. “I’m freezing, Buck. I wouldn’t be asking you if I did not. Please.”

Her tone made him pause, wavering his internal resistance. He sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. This wasn’t fair. Her scent was already messing with his focus enough, and now she wanted to press against him for warmth?

“Fine,” he ground out.

She hummed in approval as he shifted with practiced ease. He took off his vest and his bones cracked and muscles rippled, becoming larger, thick dark fur covered his body and deathly claws grew on his hands. He didn’t dare to meet her gaze as she scooted closer, curling her smaller frame into his side.

“See? Not so bad,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest while she poked at his snout. “Warm and cozy. You’re practically a luxury fur rug.”

His lips twitched, a reluctant smile threatening to break through the scowl he’d carefully crafted. “Glad I could be of service,” he muttered dryly.

She snorted softly, the sound more endearing than he’d ever admit. “Don’t act like you’re suffering. You’re just grumpy because I called you out.”

“I’m grumpy because I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with you,” he retorted, but the words lacked venom.

She didn’t reply immediately, and he thought she might’ve finally fallen asleep. But then, she spoke again, quieter this time.

“For what it’s worth, thanks, Buck.”

He didn’t answer, tightening his jaw as he tried not to focus on how perfectly she fit against him. Her scent -warm and familiar- filled his senses, sending a deep, instinctual thrum through his veins.

This was going to be a long night.

------

The night dragged on, and though she moved only a couple of times, it was enough to drive him mad. Normally, her restless shifting wouldn’t have been an issue. But now, with his traitorous body on high alert and her nestled against him, it was sheer torment.

At some point, she settled in just the wrong -or perhaps right- position. Her back molded to his chest, her softer form impossibly close. His body reacted before his brain could catch up, and before he knew it, his arm was slung possessively around her waist.

And she didn’t resist. If anything, she leaned into him, her unconscious search for warmth becoming his greatest torture. When her hips shifted slightly, her rear brushing against his growing arousal, Bucky clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

His instincts roared, the part of him tied to his worgen blood demanding he take what was so temptingly close. His hand twitched against her waist, his claws threatening to pierce the fabric of her robe as he fought the overwhelming urge to act. He bit down on the snarl building in his throat, forcing himself to remain still.

He closed his eyes, his breath was shallow and uneven as the storm outside raged on. This wasn’t him. No matter what his instincts tried to tell him, he wasn't an animal. She trusted him, and saw him as more than the beast he sometimes feared he was. He wouldn’t betray that, no matter how much his body protested.

When the first hints of dawn painted the horizon, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Carefully, he disentangled himself from her, doing his best not to disturb her sleep. He draped his mantle over her before slipping out of the tent into the cold rain.

-----

When she woke, the patter of rain against the canvas was the first thing she noticed. Then the weight of his cloak over her shoulders. She blinked, groggy, and glanced around the empty tent.

“Figures,” she muttered to herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Shivering slightly, she wrapped herself tighter in the mantle. It smelled like him, a mix of forest, leather, and something she could only describe as uniquely Bucky. She smiled faintly, shaking her head, and began rummaging through their supplies. He might be gruff and impossible, but he always made sure she was taken care of, and she had to admit she liked it. It didn’t take much to guess where he’d gone, either scouting or standing under a tree somewhere, brooding and keeping watch.

Meanwhile, Bucky stood at the edge of the clearing, soaked to the bone. He barely noticed the cold, his mind was too preoccupied with wrestling his instincts back under control. His claws flexed against the damp bark of a nearby tree, and he exhaled slowly. Her scent still clung to his body, haunting and maddening. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tension to leave his body.

“She’s your teammate, not your mate,” he muttered under his breath, the words as much a reminder as a warning.

But no amount of logic could shake the truth he’d been denying for far too long. She wasn’t just a teammate, not to him. And the more time he spent near her, the harder it became to ignore the pull.

------

Four times.

Four times Bucky had to jerk off and relieve himself before he felt remotely human, or as human as someone like him could feel. By the time he returned to the tent, the rain had lessened, though his damp hair clung to his forehead and his shirtless torso glistened from the early morning mist.

Inside, she was sitting cross-legged with her bag open beside her. She barely looked up when he ducked inside, muttering a gruff, “Morning.”

Her eyes flickered to him, her lips twitching into a half-smile. “Morning. Glad you shifted back; otherwise, the wet dog smell would cling to everything.” She tossed him a magic-infused bun with a wink.

He caught it with ease, biting into it harder than necessary. The faint hum of magic in the pastry soothed his body slightly, though his mind was still frazzled.

She, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep her gaze fixed on his face. The early hour and her half-awake state didn’t help, and her eyes briefly betrayed her, wandering down the lines of his scarred torso. She caught herself quickly, clearing her throat as she focused on his stubbled jaw instead.

“Didn’t sleep last night?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied him.

He almost choked on the bite of the bun. “Why?”

She arched a brow. “Well, the shadows under your eyes and your miserable face give off a certain vibe.”

He scowled, finishing the bun in two quick bites. “If only someone had stayed on her side of the tent instead of tossing around all night,” he muttered.

“Oh, please,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Next time, I’ll freeze myself in place so you can have a peaceful night.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a small green vial. “Here.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose, glaring at the potion like it had personally offended him. “Those taste like shit.”

“And you look like shit, so…” she replied, thrusting the vial toward him.

With a dramatic groan, he snatched it from her hand, muttering something under his breath about bossy mages.

She smirked, leaning back on her hands as she watched him grimace through the first sip. “You’re welcome,” she said sweetly.

Bucky shot her a withering look, but there was no real heat behind it. He downed the rest of the potion in one go, resisting the urge to spit it out.

“Better?” she asked, her tone laced with amusement.

“No,” he grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. But the faint twitch of his lips gave him away.

-----

“Tell me again why I have to carry the bag with naga thumbs strapped to my waist?” she huffed, launching a frostbolt straight into the face of an approaching murloc.

“Because I don’t want them to rot and start reeking like shit,” Bucky replied, his tone edged with impatience. He swung his sword with brutal efficiency, sending a naga’s head flying in a clean arc. “Just keep them cold and keep moving.”

She rolled her eyes, shifting the grisly sack at her hip as she prepared another spell. “Yes, master. As you wish, master,” she mocked, her voice dripping with exaggerated deference.

“Shut it,” he snapped without looking back, slicing through another naga like it was nothing.

“What’s the matter, master?” she continued, undeterred. “Does your fluffy tummy hurt? Want me to rub it?”

His grip on his sword tightened. No. He wanted her to rub something else, and that was precisely the problem.

He growled low in his throat, shaking off the thought as he tore through another wave of enemies with grim focus. Every word out of her mouth made it harder to concentrate, and the sooner they finished this quest, the better.

For his sanity.

“Focus,” he barked, sending another naga crumpling to the ground.

She smirked but didn’t push further, summoning a frost nova to freeze the remaining enemies in place. “I am focused,” she replied with a smug tone. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath -probably a curse- and powered forward, determined to reach the end of this hellish mission before she drove him completely mad.

-----

"I'm not carrying the head to Stormwind. I'm letting you know right now," she called over her shoulder, crouched in front of the naga commander's treasure chest.

Bucky, still looming near the mangled remains of the commander, huffed. "I figured. It's too heavy for you anyway."

With a sharp crack of bones and the sickening squelch of shifting tendons, he reverted to his human form, standing shorter and more composed but no less intimidating. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the familiar but always slightly uncomfortable sensation of transformation.

"Anything useful in there?" he asked, wiping blood and ichor off his blade with a rag.

“Actually, yes,” she replied, holding up two gleaming rings. “Looks like someone left us a caster and a melee ring. Lucky day.”

She tossed the melee ring to him without warning, and he caught it effortlessly with one hand, inspecting the intricate etching along the band.

“Aww, look,” she teased, holding up the caster ring. “They match.”

Bucky squinted at her, his lips twitching as if fighting back a smirk. “Great. Now we can get married and settle down in Kharanos.”

She snorted, slipping the caster ring onto her finger. “You’d last a week before murdering the drunken neighbors.”

He chuckled under his breath, sliding the melee ring onto his own finger. “More like a day. But, we’ll have enough ale even for our grandkids”

The banter lingered between them for a comfortable moment, despite the carnage surrounding them.

“Alright,” she stood and dusted off her hands. “Treasure’s looted, commander’s dead. Let’s get back to Stormwind before this starts to smell real bad, and you get extra cranky because of the sand in your ass.” He gave her a pointed look but didn’t talk back.

“Let’s see,” she muttered, already pulling a small portable mailbox from her enchanted bag to let Steve know that they had completed the quest. She tossed it to the ground, and with a flick of her fingers, it unfolded and hummed to life.

Bucky watched her intently, still coiled with tension from the fight. Every part of him was attuned to her movements, even when he didn’t want them to be.

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the glowing letter that appeared before her. “Well, that’s just perfect,” she said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What now?” he growled.

She glanced at him, tossing the letter into the air where it dissolved into sparkling motes of light. “We’ve got another job. Steve wants us to go to Duskwood. The guild bank is low on silver ore, and considering it’s nearby...”

Bucky rolled his eyes, letting out a low growl of irritation. “Of course he does.”

“Hey, at least Duskwood has a proper inn,” she quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “And the people there know the difference between Alliance worgen and the monsters lurking in the woods.”

Bucky wasn’t amused. He should’ve been relieved that Duskwood would be less hostile than Westfall, but all he could think about was the proximity, the enclosed spaces, and how hard it was already becoming to keep his instincts in check.

“I’ll go,” he said gruffly, his tone leaving little room for argument. “You can handle turning in the quest in Stormwind. Those fingers are going to start rotting if we don’t deliver them soon.”

She straightened, quirking an unimpressed brow. “Forgive me, illustrious master, but our guildmaster specifically requested both of us.”

“I don’t need backup for something as simple as mining,” he shot back, irritated. “I can handle a few spiders and ghouls on my own. Just go.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her as she stood her ground. “What’s with you? You’ve been extra bossy today, and for the record, I don’t take orders from you.”

“It’s not an order,” he growled, though it sounded like one. “It’s common sense. I can get the ore faster on my own, and you won’t have to-”

“What? Slow you down?” she interrupted, sharper now.

“That’s not what I meant.” He objected tiredly.

“Really? Because it sure sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

He stiffened, looking away. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. How could he explain that every moment they spent together was a battle of willpower? That he could barely breathe the same air without the primal urge to claim her clawing at his insides?

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Look, I get it. You’re used to being the lone wolf -pun very much intended- but we’re a team in this one, and we’re going to Duskwood together. Got it?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, dropping his gaze to the ground. He wanted to argue, to push her away for her own good, but the look in her eyes stopped him, he know it very well. She wasn’t bending.

“Fine,” he ground out, strained. “But don’t slow me down.”

Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they packed up their supplies and prepared for the journey, Bucky tried to focus on the task ahead, but the tension between them only grew thicker. It was going to be a long trip, and he wasn’t sure if he’d survive it with his sanity intact.

----

The woods were eerily alive tonight, the undergrowth teeming with movement that set her nerves on edge. It was impossible to traverse the area without skirmishing at nearly every turn, and the battered remnants of giant spider corpses littered the path behind them.

“Isn’t it good I came with you?” she asked, flicking a small flame spell at a particularly persistent arthropod. Its charred remains crumpled into ash as she adjusted her grip on her staff.

Bucky grunted in response, non-concomitantly, as he crouched by a silver deposit. He picked effortlessly loosening the ore, and the metal glowed faintly in the dim light filtering through the canopy.

“You’re welcome,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Did you say something?”

“Nope.” She smirked, but her amusement faded quickly as a chill ran down her spine. Her hand tightened on her staff, and she scanned the treeline, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Uh, Buck…”

“What?” he asked, not bothering to look up. “You finally get tired of spiders?”

“Not exactly.”

Something in her voice made him pause. Straightening, he turned to follow her gaze, and his stomach dropped. Emerging from the shadows was a pack of worgens, their eyes were gleaming with a feral hunger that set his instincts ablaze.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his body shifting almost instinctively. Bones cracked, muscles bulged, and fur erupted as he transformed into his worgen form.

The pack hesitated. He was larger than any of them, and his presence was enough to make a few step back, flattening their ears in uncertainty. But they didn’t retreat. They circled, growling low in their throats, a guttural sound that echoed in the damp night air.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Both sides stood frozen, staring at each other down as if weighing the odds. Low growls and deep, guttural sounds passed between Bucky and the pack, an exchange she couldn’t interpret but that felt loaded with meaning.

She took a cautious step back, and her staff glowed faintly in her hand, though she doubted it would be much use if this went south. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath, “It’s kind of rude, you know. Everyone knows what’s happening but me.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his focus was locked on the pack. He deepened his growl, and the sound reverberated through his chest as his claws flexed at his sides. Whatever language they were speaking, it wasn’t friendly.

She tightened her grip on her staff. “If this is one of those ‘dominance’ things, can we skip to the part where they back down?”

Bucky shot her a brief glance. His glowing eyes were so intense that they sent a shiver through her body. “Stay behind me,” he growled, his voice barely human.

“Oh, believe me, I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, with both sarcasm and genuine unease.

The standoff continued, and the tension was so thick it was almost suffocating. She could feel it in the air, the raw, primal energy radiating from the pack and Bucky himself. She hated to admit it, but even now, amid danger, she couldn’t help but notice the sheer power and command he exuded.

“Any time you want to scare them off would be great,” she quipped nervously, keeping her eyes on the pack.

“I’m working on it,” he rumbled sharply.

The tension in the clearing was suffocating, the pack of worgens circled closer, their growls vibrating threatening in the air. Before she could react, Bucky’s paw encircled her wrist, and he pulled her roughly in front of him.

“W-what?” she gasped, wide-eyed as she looked up at him.

His snout was so close, and his voice was a low, urgent rumble when he asked. “You trust me?”

“Always,” she whispered.

“Alright,” he muttered. Without another word, he leaned down and licked a slow, deliberate stripe along her neck, never breaking his gaze from the pack.

“Buc-” she started, her voice faltering.

“Moan,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“What?”

“Just do it. Like you mean it,” he commanded, tightening his grip slightly on her wrist.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she let out a soft, breathy sound, tilting her head slightly, while her voice trembled with a mix of nerves and compliance.

The pack hesitated, as they exchanged uneasy glances. Bucky growled low and deep, as his free hand moved to the nape of her neck, guiding her downward on her knees with surprising gentleness for the intensity of the moment.

She frowned. “What are you-”

“Rut season,” he growled under his breath, lips close to her ear. “They want to fuck you, and I’m showing them you’re mine.”

Her stomach dropped, and her breath caught as his words sank into her brain. “Oh my god,” she whispered, half in disbelief.

“So, unless you want some fun with those boys,” he continued, dangerously calm, “you’re going to play along.”

Before she could respond, he pushed her neck lower, bending her slightly as he positioned himself behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body, and the weight of his presence almost overwhelmed her as he pressed closer.

His hand brushed the hem of her robe, lifting it just enough to expose the curve of her thighs. Her breath hitched as she realized what he was doing. She wanted to throw him a dirty joke to decompress, protest, or say something, but the gravity of the situation kept her rooted in place.

Bucky hunched over her, his chest brushing against her back as he growled at the pack, sounding primal and territorial, and -oh light- he started to pound and grind against her. His movements were deliberate, and calculated, mimicking the act with enough realism to leave no doubt in the pack’s minds.

“They don’t see much detail from here,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he panted near her ear. “But it would be wise to show them some… engagement. If you know what I mean.”

The low growls of the pack echoed through the clearing, but they faded into the background as she cast her scruples aside, letting out soft moans and whimpers every time his hips connected with her rear. It was humiliating, sure, but the situation demanded it. Every sound she made seemed to amplify the tension in the air.

Bucky was a storm of barely restrained chaos. Each time their bodies connected, the friction sent a jolt through his body, and it was becoming impossible to ignore the painful erection straining against his pants. He bit back a growl, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that she could feel every inch of his leaking cock pressing against her.

The pack’s growls began to falter, their aggression giving way to hesitation. But Bucky’s protective instincts burned hotter. The violent intent in their stares toward his mage had his blood boiling. He wanted to tear them, to rip them apart for daring to covet what wasn’t theirs.

And yet, another fire was burning in him, one far more dangerous.

The charade, though necessary, was pushing him to his limit. Her body pressed against his, her soft sounds filling the air, and the scent of her arousal cutting through the damp forest air, it was killing him.

Oh, he noticed.

He noticed how her movements became less stiff, how her breaths quickened with something more than nerves, and how the sounds escaping her lips grew more authentic and less forced.

And she noticed too.

The undeniable hardness grinding and slapping against her clothed pussy was impossible to ignore, and she hated the way her body reacted. Her cheeks burned with the realization of the slickness beginning to gather between her thighs. And worse, she knew he could smell it.

Bucky flexed his claws at her waist, tightening his grip momentarily as a low growl rumbled in his chest. “That’s it,” he murmured darkly but oddly reassuring. “Just a little longer. They’re starting to get the message.”

Bucky inhaled deeply, and his eyes fluttered shut momentarily as her scent overwhelmed him. When he opened them again, they were sharp, glowing faintly in the dim light of the forest. His voice was strained, low, and almost trembling with the effort it took to speak clearly.

“Listen,” he panted, each word carrying the weight of his struggle. “These bastards are going to retreat, and when they do… I need you to cast Frost Nova. On me. And run.”

“What?” she gasped, twisting slightly to look back at him. “Are you insane? I’m not doing that!”

His grip on her waist tightened, claws grazing her robes but not piercing. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to speak through the haze clouding his mind. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t trust myself right now. All I can think about is ripping off that damn underwear and stop this charade.”

Her breath hitched at his words, and her cheeks heated anew.

“But Bucky-” she began, unsure.

“By the Light, woman,” he growled, cutting her off, “Can’t you, just once, do what I say without questioning me?”

The desperation in his voice was unmistakable now, and she froze, torn between the rising fear of what he might do and the unwavering trust she’d always had in him. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her mind raced.

“Alright,” she said finally, not sounding very convinced.

His response was a guttural snarl, but the tension in his body eased, just slightly. “I’ll be fine,” he bit out, though the way his claws flexed told her he was barely holding himself together.

The pack lingered, their yellowed eyes glinted with hesitation as Bucky’s sharp, murderous gaze bore into them. Every roll of his hips against her, every growl rumbling in his chest, was a clear message: she was his, and they had no claim here.

He let out a guttural snarl of finality, slowing his movements until he stopped, and she played along, meowling and whimpering in reaction to his fake release. He leaned forward, almost covering her body entirely with his, growling more menacing than ever before.

Eventually, the tension broke as the pack, deterred by his dominance, slunk back into the shadows of the woods.

After a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity, he reluctantly moved backward. “Do it,” he commanded, edged with desperation.

For a moment, she froze. She could feel his body trembling against hers, not just from exertion but from the monumental effort it took for him to hold himself back. His claws dug slightly into her sides, not enough to hurt but enough to remind her of how close he was to losing control.

“Now,” he barked, sharp and low.

Swallowing hard, she pushed herself away from him, forcing herself not to look back. With a quick flick of her wrist, she channeled her magic, releasing a Frost Nova that erupted in a ring of ice around him. The spell worked instantly, freezing his limbs in place and rooting him to the forest floor.

Her chest ached as she heard the muffled sound of his growl, laced with frustration, and something else. She forced herself to run, her boots pounding against the uneven ground as she headed toward the road.

Behind her, the crackling sound of ice straining against immense strength echoed faintly. She didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

-----

Maybe telling her to run hadn’t been the most clever idea his clouded mind could come up with. Because now, all he could think about was the chase… and the prize.

Her scent clung to his fur, sweet and maddening, filling his lungs and clouding what little rationality he had left. Each breath only made it worse, feeding the primal hunger gnawing at his control. His aching cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, every pulse a painful reminder of how badly he needed her.

Something in him snapped.

The ice encasing his limbs cracked audibly before shattering altogether, shards scattering across the forest floor. With a guttural roar, Bucky surged forward, his massive form blurring as he gave in to the chase.

His mind, already teetering on the edge, gave itself over to instinct. Each pounding stride brought him closer to her, his muscles coiling and releasing with terrifying precision. He could smell her panic mixed with something else, something intoxicating. It made his mouth water, his claws flex, and his cock twitch with unrelenting need.

She ran as fast as she could, her robes fluttered as she darted between trees and over roots. But she wasn’t fast enough.

Bucky leaped, the world narrowing to a single focus: her. The thrill of the hunt consumed him, but it wasn’t just the chase, it was the promise of catching her, of claiming what every fiber of his body screamed belonged to him.

----

Her steps began to falter as she reached the road, her breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. She bent over, hands braced on her knees, trying to recover. She wasn’t built for this kind of thing. She was a mage, for Light’s sake, spellcasting was her forte, not sprinting through a forest or other physical strain.

That’s what she had Bucky for.

Bucky, who would roll his eyes and toss her over his shoulder like a caveman whenever she whined about being too tired to walk.

Bucky, who would scout ahead for the easiest path even though he could tear through any terrain in his worgen form without a second thought.

Bucky, who hunted and butchered their meals with efficiency, ensuring they ate more than stale bread and questionable stew on their travels.

Bucky, who wanted to fuck her.

Her cheeks burned as that particular thought. Not that she hadn’t thought about it before, because she had. Maybe too often for her own good. The idea of him and his hands on her, his low, gravelly voice saying her name in that way that sent a shiver down her spine.

But not like this.

Not the furry kind of fuck.

She straightened, forcing herself to keep moving toward the town. Each step felt like it was taking her further from the chaotic heat of the encounter in the woods, but her mind couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d looked at her: possessive, dangerous, hungry.

And if she was being honest with herself, a small part of her didn’t entirely mind that look.

She almost tripped and cursed, adjusting her robes and glaring down at their impractical hem. Maybe it was time to ditch the flowing fabric and invest in some pants like a sensible person. To hell with Khadgar and his fashionable mage aesthetic. She let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand through her hair as she walked. All she needed was to reach the inn, find a stiff drink, and put this insanity behind her.

Oh, but she wasn’t going to make it.

The big, bad, and sexually frustrated wolf had been prowling alongside her, concealed by the thicket, his predatory instincts zeroed in on every step she took. She’d barely made it four more paces down the stone road before her vision blurred with sudden movement.

The next thing she knew, she was pinned.

Her back was pressed against the rough bark of a tree, and in front of her was Bucky. Human, barely. His chest heaved, his shirt torn and clinging to his sweat-dampened skin. He was panting, feral, utterly undone.

Her breath hitched as her eyes raked over him, and before she could stop herself, her thighs pressed together to ease the tingling ache his mere presence provoked.

“H-hey, Buck,” she croaked, her voice trembling under the weight of his stare. “I guess the nova wasn’t to your liking?”

His lips curled into something between a snarl and a smirk, and his gaze dropped to her lips before sliding back to meet her eyes. “Did you really think that would stop me?” His voice was low, rough, vibrating with barely contained hunger.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. “Well according to you, it was supposed to give me a head start.”

He huffed a breathless laugh, his hands braced on either side of her head against the tree. “I guess I subconsciously knew damn well I’d catch you. Since, you know, your stamina sucks”

Her cheeks flushed hot, and her heart hammered in her chest as she struggled to keep her composure. “Yeah, well... there was the possibility that maybe the spell cooled you off.”

“Cool off?” He leaned in, brushing his nose against her temple, dropping his voice into a growl. “You’re the one who’s been driving me insane, running around smelling like... that.”

“Like what?” she whispered, even as she already knew the answer.

“Like you want me to lose control,�� he murmured, his lips just barely grazing her ear.

Her traitorous body shivered at his words.

“Would that… be that bad?” she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

His entire body went rigid, curling his hands into fists against the tree bark. A growl rumbled low in his chest, vibrating between them like a warning. Or a promise.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he ground out against her skin.

She tilted her head slightly, forcing herself to meet his burning gaze. “Maybe I do.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his jaw as if he were fighting an invisible battle within himself. The tension between them crackled like a live wire, and she couldn’t tell if the heat pooling in her belly was from fear, desire, or both.

“Don’t,” he rasped, strained. “Don’t tempt me like that.”

Her lips parted, letting go a soft exhale as she felt the weight of his words. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. “And if I did?”

He snarled, closing the faint distance separating them. His forehead dropped to hers, and his ragged breathing mixed with hers. “Then I’ll show you just how dangerous I can be.”

The words sent a jolt of adrenaline and something far darker coursing through her veins. She swallowed thickly, and her heart hammered against her ribs as she whispered, “Maybe I’m not afraid of danger.���

Bucky’s eyes searched hers, his pupils were blown wide, a thin ring of blue around a sea of black. His lips hovered over hers, so close she could feel the ghost of his breath.

“I don’t know if I can stop,” he admitted.

“Then don’t,” she replied steady, despite the quiver in her knees.

Bucky didn’t move for a heartbeat, his body trembled as he fought his instincts. The moment stretched, before something inside him finally snapped.

His lips crashed against hers, hard and demanding, as though trying to express everything he couldn’t say. She gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively tangling in the ragged fabric of his shirt and his long locks, pulling him closer despite the warning alarms blaring in her mind.

His hands moved to her waist, rough and possessive, as though afraid she might slip away. The kiss was a clash of tongues and teeth, raw and unrestrained, but it wasn’t enough, not for him.

He broke away, panting heavily, roaming his gaze over her heated face. “You don’t know what you’ve started,” he growled, low and thick with need.

Her lips tingled, swollen from the force of his kiss. Her fingers trailed up to touch them as her mind spun. “Well Buck, I’m not sure I care,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

His expression darkened, and his body pressed her back against the tree. “Say that again,” he demanded, his tone more animal than man.

She met his gaze, and her stubborn streak flared. “I said, I don’t care, Bucky.”

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a groan, and his hands moved to cup her face with surprising gentleness despite the storm raging inside him. “You’re going to drive me insane,” he murmured, brushing her lips with unexpected tenderness.

Her body ached at the contrast, of the softness of his touch against the raw hunger in his voice. She shivered again, and he didn’t miss it.

With a low growl in his throat, Bucky pressed one of his thick thighs between her legs, dragging against the sensitive spot that was already aching for attention. She gasped sharply, and her hands flew to grip his shoulders for balance, but before she could say anything, his hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back to expose the vulnerable curve of her neck.

His lips were on her a heartbeat later, hot and unrelenting as they trailed along her skin, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and nips that made her shudder. The scrape of his teeth sent sparks down her spine, and when he growled again, the sound vibrated against her throat and she couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from her lips.

The sound seemed to set something off in him. His thigh pressed harder against her, sending jolts of pleasure as her body instinctively rolled against him. She felt the heat pooling low in her belly, and her mind was a blur of sensation and need.

“Bucky,” she breathed, with a trembling voice.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, “Say my name like that again,” he commanded, in a rough whisper that made her knees weak.

“Bucky,” she whispered.

His hands tightened on her hips, holding her firmly against him as he leaned in to capture her lips once more. It was messy, desperate, and so consuming that she felt like she was drowning in him, in his scent, in his heat, in his presence.

When he finally pulled back, it was only to grab the front of her robe and tear it apart with a single, feral motion.

“Hey!” she protested, instinctively trying to cover herself.

“You didn’t like it anyway,” he retorted, dark amusement lacing his tone as he tossed the tattered fabric aside.

Her protest died on her lips when his hand moved lower, hooking into her underwear. “And I don’t like these,” he added, low and rough as he shredded the delicate material without hesitation.

Her cheeks flushed with heat as she stood bare before him, and his predatory gaze raked over intently, his expression darkening further when he finally saw the evidence of what he’d only smelled before, the glistening slick between her thighs.

“So damn wet,” he growled. Without preamble, two fingers slipped between her folds, sliding through the slickness before finding her clit.

Her body jerked at the contact, a whine escaping her lips as his touch sent a jolt of pleasure straight through her body. He didn’t hold back, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with calculated precision, his rough fingertips adding just the right amount of friction to make her toes curl.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful admiration as he watched her reactions. She was utterly pliant beneath his touch, resting her head back against the tree, lips parted while gasping softly. “So perfect like this.”

She could barely form a response as he kept up his relentless ministrations. Her hands shot out, clutching at his shoulders for balance as her legs trembled under the onslaught of sensation.

“Fuck, Bucky.” she panted, her voice shaky and desperate, as his fingers continued their slow, devastating circles over her clit and her hips moved involuntarily against his hand, seeking more of the friction he was so generously giving her.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, laced with a possessive edge. He leaned in, and his lips brushed against the shell of her ear when he finally buried his fingers inside her. “You feel how good this is? How good you’re gonna feel when I’m finally inside you?”

Her knees buckled at the promise in his voice, and his grip tightened, holding her steady as he continued his ministrations.

His lips trailed along the sensitive column of her neck, and his teeth grazed her skin before he bit down gently.

Her nails clawed at his shoulders and biceps as his fingers worked her relentlessly, curling just right to hit the spot that made her vision blur. “Fuck!” she gasped.

“Feel so good, don’t you?” he murmured against her skin, as his thumb kept circling her clit with maddening precision. “So damn wet for me, and I’ve barely started.”

Her hips moved in tandem with his hand, grinding against him as if she couldn’t get close enough. Every thrust and curl of his fingers, every swirl of his thumb sent waves of pleasure through her body and she was about to snap.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned again, and her head lolled back as he continued to mark her neck. She was completely at his mercy, and her body trembled, as the heat built low in her stomach, threatening to unravel her completely.

“Chase it,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with her. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful when you let go.” His words were her undoing. Her body arched, and a sharp cry left her lips as she shattered, clenching around his fingers as the pleasure crashed over her like a wave.

Bucky didn’t ease up, and his fingers continued their relentless pace, driving her deeper into a haze of pleasure. She squirmed, pushing at his chest in a feeble attempt to stop him, but he didn’t budge. His other hand gripped her hip firmly, pinning her against the tree.

“Bucky,” she whined, her voice breathless and trembling, “I… I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, with authority. “And you will. I’m not done with you yet.”

She gasped as he slid a third finger inside her, stretching her further. The sensation was overwhelming, but it teetered dangerously close to pure bliss. His thumb continued its torment on her clit, and her thighs shook as another wave of heat coiled low in her belly.

“That’s it,” he rumbled, his lips brushing against her ear. “I want you ready to take all of me, sweetheart. You’re mine, and I will make sure you know it.”

“Oh, cocky, aren’t we?” she tried to quip, but her voice shook as she clung to the last shred of control she had left.

His deep chuckle vibrated against her skin, “Yeah,” he retorted, his lips curling into a feral grin. “Cocky, indeed.”

Her response was lost in a breathless moan as he curved his fingers again, finding that perfect spot and sending sparks shooting through her body. She couldn’t think or do anything but cling to him as he worked her over with ruthless precision.

Bucky’s blue eyes bore into hers, feral and wild, “Come on,” he murmured, low and commanding. “Give me another one. Show me how good you can be for me.”

Her body betrayed her completely, tightening around his fingers as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge once more. His relentless dominance was intoxicating, and she hated how much she wanted to fall apart for him all over again.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she whined, “or I swear I’ll put bubblegum on your tail the first chance I get.”

Her body trembled violently as her climax tore through her, making her see stars. It was the most intense release she’d ever felt, and it left her gasping for air, every muscle in her body turning into jelly.

Bucky chuckled, clearly satisfied with the way she fell apart under his touch. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, glistening with her slick, and without warning, brought them to her lips.

“Open,” he commanded, in a rough growl.

Her dazed eyes blinked up at him, but she obeyed, parting her lips. He pressed his fingers onto her tongue, making her taste herself. Before she could process it further, he leaned and crashed his mouth against hers.

He licked at her lips, her tongue, and his own fingers still in her mouth, mingling their breaths in a way that felt so filthy and erotic that it made her head spin.

His other hand cradled the back of her head, keeping her in place as he deepened the kiss, his feral nature showing in the raw hunger with which he devoured her.

When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen and slick, and her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Bucky’s blue gaze glowed with pride and desire, and his mouth curled into a wicked smirk.

“You taste so damn good,” he murmured, thick with arousal. “Every part of you.”

Unable to hold back any longer, he fumbled with his belt and nearly tore his pants apart to free his throbbing, leaking cock. A guttural groan escaped from his throat as the cool air hit his heated length.

His glowing eyes locked on hers, filled with feral hunger. “And now, magic bun,” he rasped, “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk… and then some more.”

With one hand, he gripped the back of her knee, lifting her leg to spread her wide. The other wrapped firmly around the base of his shaft, guiding it between her slick folds. He groaned low and deep as the head of his cock pressed against her clit, grinding teasingly against her sensitive bundle of nerves.

She gasped, and her head fell back against the tree as the tantalizing friction sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. “Bucky…” she breathed half a plea, half a warning.

“Patience.” he growled. Slowly, torturously, he began to push forward, as the thick head of his cock stretched her inch by inch.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her breath hitched as he split her open, his size forcing her body to adjust to the overwhelming intrusion. He paused briefly, giving her time to catch up, though his trembling muscles betrayed how much restraint it was costing him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against the tree as he sank deeper. “So tight, so perfect.” He lifted her other leg from behind her knee and pushed again.

She whimpered, rolling her hips instinctively to meet him, drawing a shuddering growl from his chest. Her body stretched and molded around him, every nerve alight with pleasure and the intoxicating mix of pain and anticipation. Her breath came in short, heated bursts as her lips sought out his stubbled jaw, lingering before she nipped at his skin. It was soft but enough to provoke, enough to draw a growl from deep within his chest.

"Keep going, big guy," she whispered, her voice husky and laced with a mix of daring and need.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he rasped, “Once I start, there’s no stopping.”

Her hands slid up his chest, grazing the muscles beneath his shirt with her nails. “Good,” she breathed, “because I wasn’t planning on stopping you.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. With a guttural sound, Bucky thrust forward, stretching her inch by maddening inch. He kept his eyes locked on hers, watching the way her lips parted in a gasp, her pupils blown wide with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his voice a broken growl as he sank deeper, claiming her completely. Her nails dug into his skin as her body arched against him, and a soft cry escaped her lips.

He rolled his hips again, slow but deliberate. “You feel that? That’s all me, and I’m not stopping until I’ve emptied my balls inside you, magic bun."

The vulgar promise sent a new wave of heat through her body. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as her body clenched around him in response.

“You talk a big game,” she managed to tease, the faintest smirk curling her lips despite the haze of pleasure overwhelming her.

Bucky chuckled darkly, “Oh, you’ll see just how big.” he growled, snapping his hips forward sharply, drawing a gasping cry from her.

He didn’t give her a chance to recover, since his movements became relentless in a punishing rhythm that was intoxicating. Every thrust pushed her higher, her moans grew louder, unrestrained, as his words and actions blurred her ability to think of anything but him.

"That’s it," he murmured against her ear, his voice ragged. "Take me. Take every damn inch."

His pace grew rougher, more determined as if his life depended on claiming her body completely. Each thrust drove her harder against the tree, and every delicious drag of him against her sensitive walls made her body sing.

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, his lips brushed against her ear. “Like you were made for me. Do you feel that? Feel how perfectly I fit inside you?”

“Y-yeah, I feel it,” she stammered, her voice trembling with pleasure.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you,” he continued, his voice dripping with feral hunger. “Every. Last. Drop.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust, making her cry out in ecstasy.

Her nails scraped down his back, leaving marks that only spurred him on. “Bucky! oh, fuck… I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, gripping her hips tighter. “You’ll take it, every inch, every load, until you’re dripping with me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She could only whimper in response, her head falling back as he angled his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot that made her see stars. Her body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure building to a breaking point. “Bucky, I’m gonna- oh!”

“That’s it, cum for me,” he commanded, “Squeeze me, magic bun. Milk my fucking cock!” he growled, his voice rough and ragged as he felt her clenching around him. He could feel his balls tightening dangerously, and with a guttural roar, he drove into her one final time.

“Fuck! Just. Fuck,” he groaned, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he spilled inside her, thick, hot ropes of cum filling her up while he panted against her neck.

Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, and her legs shook as he held her up against the tree, keeping her pinned as he emptied himself into her.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, resting his forehead against hers, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

She gave a breathless laugh, still shaky. “There goes your endurance”

He smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to her lips. “Don’t think we’re done, though,” he murmured, sliding down his hands to cup her ass. “Not until I’m sure you’ll feel me with every step tomorrow.”

"Bucky-" she started, but he pulled out his still-hard cock and gently set her down, immediately latching his mouth onto one of her neglected breasts. His teeth grazed her sensitive skin as he sucked and nipped, leaving her gasping.

“Oh, how many times did I imagine milking these,” he murmured against her flesh, his voice thick with want.

She quirked a brow at him, managing to ask between pants and squeals when he got rough. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” he growled, squeezing both breasts with his large hands to make his point. “Every fucking time we shared a tent and you pressed them against me in your sleep. You have no idea what you did to me.”

She let out a sharp gasp, caught somewhere between indignation and arousal. “You creep! Ah!”

He chuckled, flicking his tongue over her hardened nipple. “I’m not a saint, but believe me when I tell you, another man wouldn’t have held back. They’d have taken advantage.”

Her fingers wove into his long, dark locks, an unexpectedly tender gesture despite the heated moment. She tilted his face up slightly, meeting his gaze. “I know. But you’re not just ‘another man.’ You’re my partner, and since our first quest, I’ve always known I was safe with you. Grumpiness and brooding aside... you’re the best.”

His movements stilled for a moment, then he pressed his forehead against her chest, brushing his lips in the swell of her breast as he exhaled deeply. “You don’t know how much that means to me,” he admitted, raw and almost vulnerable.

She smiled, scratching lightly at his scalp. “You don’t make it easy, but you’re worth it, Barnes.”

His blue eyes flicked up to hers. “I don’t deserve you,” he muttered, still exploring her body with his hands, tracing every curve.

“Not the time for the monthly self-loathing spiral.” she chastised. Her hand slid down his chest, fingers dancing over the hard ridges of his abs before continuing lower. When her fingers encircled his shaft -or at least tried to-she began to pump him slowly.

His breath hitched, sharp, and audible, and his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t,” he ground out, his voice rough and almost desperate.

She knit her brows, confused. “Why not?”

He kept his grip firm, clenching his jaw as he averted his gaze, with a flushed face. “Now’s not a good time,” he muttered. “Maybe... maybe when I’m not rutting.”

Her head tilted slightly, studying him. “What’s the difference?”

His grip on her wrist tightened just slightly, and his eyes flicked back to hers with a mix of restraint and frustration. “If I get too... invested,” he admitted, almost growling, “I’m going to shift.”

“Oh.” Her lips parted to say something, but she hesitated, caught between curiosity and concern.

“It’s not just about me losing control,” he added, almost hesitant. “If I shift mid-act, it’s... it’s a lot. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her gaze softened, and she cupped his face with her free hand. “Bucky, you’ve never hurt me,” she said gently. “And I don’t believe you ever would.”

He leaned into her touch for a moment, exhaling heavily.

“I won’t let you get away with what you want as always. Not with this.”

“But-”

“Shut it,” he growled, cutting her off as he turned her around and manhandled her to the ground on her hands and knees, his discarded cloak softening her landing. His voice dropped into a commanding snarl, rough and dangerous. “Now I’m going to keep getting what I want, and you will take it.” He spread her thighs open with his knee. “You’re only going to open that pretty mouth of yours to moan or cry out my name.”

“Bossy now, aren’t w-” she began, sassy, but she didn’t get the chance to finish. His hand came down on her ass with a loud, stinging smack, making her gasp.

“You just had to insist on being a brat and coming with me,” he hissed, his lips close to her ear, his voice dripping with frustration and unbridled heat. “And then I had to fake fucking you in front of a bunch of horny bastards.”

His hand kneaded the spot he had smacked, “Now, magic bun, you’re going to pay for every second of that torture.” His hands gripped her hips possessively, dragging her back against him, pressing his leaking cock into her ass.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he muttered darkly, sliding a hand down between her legs “You’ve been soaking since that little show.” He pressed his fingers against her pussy. “This? This is all mine.” He growled and pressed the thick head of his cock against her entrance, already slick from his cum and her fresh wave of arousal. Without hesitation, he thrust inside her, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful motion. She cried out, arching her back as she adjusted to the sudden, overwhelming fullness.

He groaned, “So perfect, magic bun. Taking me so well.”

Her fingers dug into the cloak beneath her, and her breathing ragged as her body tried to accommodate his size. “Fuck...” she gasped, a mix of protest and pleasure.

He leaned over her, pressing his chest against her back as his lips found her shoulder. He nipped at her skin, sharp enough to leave marks, each bite sending a jolt of electricity through her already overstimulated body.

“Bucky,” she moaned, her arms trembling as she tried to hold herself up under the force of his thrusts.

“Don’t stop saying my name,” he demanded roughly against her ear. His hips snapped forward harder, and his cock hit that perfect spot inside her with every hard thrust.

She whimpered, dropping her head forward as her body surrendered completely to him. He growled approvingly, sinking his teeth gently into her shoulder before licking the sting away.

“You’re mine,” he rumbled as he drove into her relentlessly. “Say it.”

“I- I’m yours,” she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, but he heard her loud and clear.

“Yes, so damn mine,” His hand slid up her spine, possessively fisting her hair and pulling her head back. The exposed line of her throat and shoulders was too tempting to resist, and he sank his teeth into her skin again, marking her.

The wet slap of his balls against her clit grew louder, mingling with her breathless cries and his guttural groans, creating a symphony of pure, unrestrained need that echoed through the forest.

“Buck, y-you’re so deep,” she choked out, clawing her fingers at his discarded cloak for stability.

He chuckled darkly against her skin. “Deeper still, magic bun,” he rasped, his voice filled with raw determination. “I want to feel your womb kissing the head of my cock.”

He withdrew almost entirely, leaving her desperate and trembling, only to thrust back in with a force that had her crying out. His pace quickened, each stroke harder and more deliberate than the last, pushing her toward the edge of sanity.

Her walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and he cursed under his breath, the sensation driving him wild. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, his free hand gripping her hip so tightly she was sure it would leave bruises. “Made for me, made for this”

She moaned, arching her body, her knees threatening to give out under the relentless pleasure, as her body rocked with every thrust. He let go of her hair and reached down to play with her swollen clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Take it,” he growled, dark and commanding. “You’re gonna carry me,” he murmured, thrusting harder. “Gonna fuck you so full you won’t have room for anything else. My scent, my seed, on you, in you, everywhere.”

“Oh, fuck, Bucky,” she whimpered, her thighs quivering as she clenched around him, her body responding instinctively to his filthy promises.

She meowled, and her body responded with another involuntary squeeze around his cock. He groaned, the pressure almost undoing him. “That’s it,” he hissed while his pace grew erratic. “Gonna breed you, leave you dripping for everyone to see. “You want it, don’t you?” he rasped, circling her clit faster. “Say it. Tell me you want me to fill you up.”

“I-I want it,” she gasped, the words barely leaving her lips before another sharp thrust sent her spiraling.

He groaned as her walls pulsed around him, and he buried himself to the hilt. “Fuck!,” he growled, as his cock twitched inside her. “You’re gonna take it all. Every last drop. No one else gets to have you, just me.”

The orgasm hit him like a storm, spilling thick ropes of cum into her, the heat of his load making her whimper. He thrust a few more times, grinding deep as if determined to leave no part of her untouched.

His movements slowed, then stilled, and he remained buried inside her for a moment, his chest rising and falling against her back until he finally withdrew, groaning softly at the loss of her warmth. He pulled her down gently onto his discarded cloak, spooning behind her. The feral aggression that had consumed him moments before seemed to melt away, leaving behind a calmer, more satisfied version of himself.

“You alright?” he murmured, softer now as he brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. His hands smoothed over her sides, no longer gripping bruisingly but exploring her curves with a reverence that made her sigh.

“I’m fine,” she replied, still breathless. “But you are totally carrying me tomorrow in a piggyback. I don’t feel my legs.”

His lips twitched into a small, self-satisfied smile. “That was the idea, your limbs around me, where they belong.”

She rolled her eyes and snuggled her back closer to the warmth of his broad chest. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And you didn’t escape,” he retorted, nipping playfully at her ear.

“Maybe I’m a sucker for punishment,” she quipped, tracing the lines of his forearm where it rested around her waist. “Or maybe I just enjoy being with the guy who acts like a beast but is actually pretty damn sweet when he’s not trying to prove a point.”

He huffed a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Sweet, huh? Pretty sure I wasn’t ‘sweet’ a few minutes ago.”

“No, you were something else entirely,” she teased, turning to meet his gaze with a sly smile. “But don’t let it go to your head, big guy.”

Bucky inhaled deeply and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. His hands slid up her side to cup her breast, his rough palm was gentler now as he thumbed over her sensitive nipple. He sighed, utterly sated yet still unwilling to let her go.

“We’ll need the tent,” he murmured and the deep rumble of his voice vibrated against her skin. “We’re not making it to the inn.”

She groaned, grimacing at the thought of wrestling with the cursed contraption in her current state. “Ugh, the tent. Can’t we just sleep out here and hope nothing eats us?”

Bucky chuckled with a low and indulgent sound. As if he’d read her mind, he nipped her shoulder, eliciting a squeak from her mouth. “You’re going to lay there looking pretty, and I’m going to set it up,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

She turned her head to shoot him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you’re all chivalrous now?”

He smirked, brushing his lips against her ear as he spoke. “Don’t push your luck, I’m trying to be nice here.” he muttered, adjusting the cloak around her shoulders as if she couldn’t do it herself. “Since I plan on fucking you again -and maybe a few more times after that- I’d rather you didn’t catch a cold. Also…” His gaze lingered pointedly on her chest. “I don’t want some random traveler getting an eyeful of your bouncing tits.”

She quirked a brow. “Funny, you didn’t seem to care about modesty a few minutes ago.”

He crouched down beside her, tugging the edges of the cloak higher over her chest as he gave her an unimpressed look. “Yeah, well, that was different. I was the one enjoying the view. No one else gets to.”

Her smile widened as she brushed her hand over his stubbled jaw. “Possessive much?”

He just stared at her, leaning down to kiss her, slow and deliberate, as if to remind her exactly who she belonged to. When he pulled back, his lips brushed against her cheek, and he nuzzled her affectionately. “Be good for once and stay put. I’ll set up the tent.”

“Oh, I’ll stay put,” she said with a mischievous lilt, shamelessly traveling her gaze down his naked body. “Enjoying the view.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. He liked her looking at him like that, and she knew it. He made no effort to hide the way his muscles flexed as he moved, taking every chance to show off while setting up the tent.

“Really taking your time there, huh, big guy?” she teased.

“Maybe I am,” he shot back, giving her a knowing glance over his shoulder. “If you’re going to stare, I might as well make it worth your while.”

She laughed as she propped up on her elbows to get a better view. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just admiring your… big dedication to the task.”

He shook his head as he secured the last of the tent’s poles. “Come on,” he invited, holding a hand out to her. “Tent’s ready. Let’s see if its sturdy enough for my big dedication.” His smirk widened into a full-blown grin, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

“Always so humble, Buck.” she observed, slipping her hand into his and letting him pull her up.

“Just calling it like it is,” he shot back, pulling her closer until their bodies nearly touched. “And judging by your staring, I’d say you agree.”

She opened her mouth to quip but then paused, frowning. “Um, Buck… by any chance did you bring the sack with the silver or…?”

His confident smirk faltered as his brows knit together. “Of course I-” He stopped mid-sentence, glancing toward the forest, and his expression shifted from cocky to sheepish. “I was a little preoccupied,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Steve will love this.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, stepping closer until he loomed over her. “You think I care about what Steve thinks right now?”

She arched a brow, dropping her gaze lower. “Well, considering you’re standing here without a stitch of clothing and no silver in sight… maybe not.”

His lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk as he took her hand, placing it boldly against his hard cock. “You tell me, magic bun. Does this look like it cares about Steve, silver, or his damn surprise quests?”

Her cheeks heated as her fingers instinctively curled around him. She swallowed hard. “No, it doesn’t” she managed,

He growled, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. “Now, get in that tent before I lose what little patience I have left.”

Her lips quirked, but she wisely said nothing, turning toward the tent with a sway in her hips that she knew he wouldn’t miss. Behind her, he groaned, with both exasperation and lust.

“Keep that up, magic bun, and we won’t make it inside at all.”

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[pearlcigs]

⋆ i know my girlfriend is a . . . witch! — tlou discord server

witch costume!reader x ellie williams

summary ⋆ ellie is normally very good at keeping her cool in public, but the way your tits look in that tight witch dress... god, it's like you put a love spell on her.

warnings ⋆ 1.70k ⋆ halloween smut, tried not to describe the outfit too much i hate that shit too but i had to for the plot my bad yall, ellie LOVESSS tits, car sex, subbyish ellie, pet names (babe), choking (e!receiving), getting caught :(

it was chilly, just as every halloween night that you could remember since you were a kid. you remember long sleeves under your princess costume and a puffy jacket once the night was over to keep you warm in the barren cold. you can reminisce fondly now and thank your parents for keeping you warm unlike back then when you thought they were trying to ruin your costume. however, your parents didn't take you out for halloween anymore, so you had no one to follow you around with a coat and reprimand you until you wore leggings under your dress.

you knew you would be cold when you found the simple black, velvety dress, choosing it since you knew you'd wear it more than once and your hard earned money wouldn't go to waste. it was simple, no broom stick or book of spells to go with the outfit, only a small witch's hat headband and the hope that one of the buttons didn't rip open when you took a deep breath. okay, maybe you got a size too small in your haste to find a halloween costume for the stupid party you had to attend with your girlfriend. it would do, right? you could just go exchange it in the morning for a larger size and in the mean time pray that you wont pass out from the lack of air flowing to your lungs.

you did have to admit though, the tightness of the dress accentuated your features, highlighting the best aspects of your body, more than just a little bit of cleavage being shown. you didn't have time to complain or admire your dress though, already far too late. you finished getting ready, a pair of thigh highs to complete the witchy vibe, fixing your makeup to be just right, a pair of shoes that were sure to give you blisters. by the time you had arrived at the party, people were already drunk. you fought the urge to roll your eyes, looking through the sea of intoxicated mindless college students, trying to find your lovely girlfriend who made you come to this shit show.

you spotted her in one of the corners, dina and jesse by her side. and of course they were wearing a cringey couple costume, a bold 's' on dina's white shirt and a bold 'p' on jesse's black shirt. you laughed to yourself, shaking your head as you pushed through the crowd to make it to them. ellie caught your eyes from across the room, dorky smile on her face to accompany her dork costume. she wore a batman shirt along with an attached cape, on brand for her. when you got closer, ellie could see what you chose to wear, her eyes widening as her eyes roamed over you. was it hot in there or was it just ellie?

in a matter of moments you were at her side, her heart beating out of her chest at the way you looked. she always said she had the prettiest girlfriend in the world, and tonight, you were proving it. she couldn't take her eyes off you, even as you leaned in to give a small kiss on the cheek to greet her. "wow... just wow." ellie finally speaks up, her hand that wasn't holding an alcoholic beverage finding the curve of your waist. you laugh, amused at her dorky reaction. "i got a size too small, do you think it's noticeable?" you inquired, smoothing out the wrinkles on the dress with your palm.

"it's, well, i mean, i don't..." she stutters over her words, this time earning laughs from jesse and dina. she didn't hear their laughs though, her heartbeat too loud in her ears. "it's fine, yeah, fine." she swallows, squeezing your waist slightly. it was no doubt that you were a very attractive woman and ellie made sure you knew that always. "i mean, beautiful. you look beautiful. not fine, beautiful." her words gave you butterflies in your stomach, even if she did butcher them at first. "smooth, ellie. real smooth." dina chimes in, big grin on her face from watching her friend try to flirt.

"shut up. the ladies love me." she protests, squeezing your waist even tighter and taking a sip of her drink. maybe she just needed some liquid courage. "ladies? plural?" you question, teasing her for her cocky attitude. "lady. lady! obviously just you. obviously. if any other girl wanted me, well, i'd just have to drop kick them, y'know babe?" you can't help the snort laugh that comes out of you at her nervous attempt to smooth things over. normally she was so calm and collected around you, but right now, she couldn't even think straight. the only thing she could think about was your tits and how good they looked in that dress.

the way the fabric hugged them, watching your chest rise and fall as you breathed. with each breath you took, they threatened to spill out. god, ellie just wanted to leave marks all over your chest. you could see clear as day that ellie was staring. the way she was ogling at you was making you confident and maybe a little horny. time went on, talking with some people, getting your own alcoholic drink (because what's a halloween party without getting drunk), even convincing ellie to dance with you. and still, the whole time, ellie was mesmerized by you.

it was well after midnight, jesse and dina no where to be found. "of course," ellie thinks to herself. they always disappeared when it was time to leave. ellie didn't want to wait any longer, leading you to the car. you told her you could just take an uber, same as how you got here, but she protested that she could take you home. the two of you waited in the car, ellie fiddling with the aux after texting jesse you were waiting in the car for them. the window was rolled down, reminding you of the chilly october breeze. you rolled the window back up, not wanting to catch a cold.

you stared at your window, watching kids with their parents roam around with their costumes and buckets of candy. you wanted that to be you and ellie one day. however, while you were thinking of ellie wholesomely, she was still drooling over your tits. i mean, you were alone now, a few marks wouldn't hurt anyone. "hey. you wanna, y'know?" she smiles awkwardly as she nods her head to the backseat. "just until dina and jesse get their asses out here." she continues on, trying her hardest to convince you to make out with her right now. she wanted to taste you on her lips.

you rolled your eyes at her feeble attempt to convince you but somehow her loser charm worked on you. and before you knew it, you were both in the backseat, grinding down on ellie as she kissed your neck and chest. pants and heavy breaths filled the car, half-assed moans falling from both of your lips. "your tits look so good. like.. fuck, babe." she rambled, leaving the marks she craved to leave all night on the exposed skin of your breast. "this dress is incredible." she continued on, just praising your entire existence at this point. "would look even better off though." she smiled like a nerd.

"dina and jesse will be here soon..." you tried to weakly protest, not making any effort to stop her as she unbuttons the dress. your tits immediately spilled out, and suddenly being able to breathe better. "they're probably somewhere fucking." ellie counteracted, not wasting a second to put her mouth on your nipples. you gripped her shoulders, grinding your hips down onto hers and cursing under your breath. you were so sensitive, craving ellie in a way you hadn't before. maybe it was a full moon, but then again it didn't really matter. all that mattered was ellie tongue gliding over your supple skin.

"i could cum just from looking at you." her voice is raspy, becoming drunk on your taste. "really?" you moan out, hands exploring ellie's body and sliding underneath her shirt. her skin was so warm, so inviting. "'course, babe." she mumbles, too focused on marking up your perfect body. "i need you so bad." you admitted, bringing one of yoru exploring hands up to her neck. she looks up at you, eyes almost rolling back at the notion of you choking her. she presses her lips against yours, her hand fumbling to find it's way under your dress and into your panties. she ran her fingers through your folds before pressing against your clit.

you moaned into the kiss, moving your hips with no rhythm to desperately feel the pleasure you crave. you pull away, eagerly lifting ellie's stupid batman shirt over her head to reveal her sports bra. you dragged your hand down her body, starting at her neck all thw way down to the button of her jeans, all while careless whines fall from your swollen lips. it was your turn to leave marks now, doing your best to keep your focus as you put your lips on her neck. "fuck, babe. this is so hot." ellie licked her lips and tilted her head back to really enjoy your kisses. her fingers never stop, working at your clit like that was their only job.

the windows of the car started to fog now, past hand prints from previous moments like this reappearing and being lewdly illuminated from the moon. just when you were about to unbutton ellie's pants, there was a knock on the window, pulling you both out of your blissful state. it was hard to see through clouded over windows, but the recognizable white shirt with an 's' on it made both you and ellie's heart rates pick up. ellie hand was out of your underwear faster than it went in. frantically, you rebuttoned your dress and ellie struggled to get her shirt back on. "of fucking course." ellie grumbled, and you were thinking the same exact thing. oh well, maybe next time, or maybe on the car ride home if ellie was feeling bold.

[satoruhour]

RIDING JJK MENS ABS

a/n: thinkin’ bout dbf! jjk men bc of the toji drabble….. ouuuuhhhh im cooking

warnings: ab riding / humping & clit stimulation & pet names for all, implied phone sex, implied m! masturbation, somnophilia, cum eating, praise, implied second round (gojo), orgasm denial, implied overstimulation, calls you ‘slut’, a little mean, slight brat-taming, consensual recording, fingering from the back (geto), nipple play, soft sex, praise, brief unprotected p -> v penetration (nanami), toji is ur dad’s best friend, age gap (reader in uni, toji is in his 40s), calls you ‘whore‘ once, implied unprotected sex, implied creampie / breeding kink, lots of dirty talk, slight degradation, he smacks ur ass once (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

your eyes flit between gojo’s and his pants, hanging low on his hips as his chest heaves in even breaths. it’s more often now that the strongest sorcerer wakes up after you, feeling so safe in your arms, but today you have other plans.

you feel a little sorry for him when he’s completed a gruelling mission last night, but the throbbing of your core and the twist of your stomach is uncomfortable enough when that gruelling mission lasted three days. you’ve sent him risqué photos, along with texts of needing him bad but the most comfort he could provide was late phone calls with the sound of him stroking his cock.

the real thing was always better, though.

your resolve hardens when your mind wanders to satoru’s moans you heard on the line just last night, dragging yourself off the warmth of the sheets and onto him, not before taking off your pants, freezing in place when he shuffles just a little. you’re awfully cautious especially when you‘ve been caught before from your output of cursed energy and his six eyes.

so when you settle down on him, you’re already grinning at your triumphant feat until your clit bumps along his abs and you’re sitting up straighter. oh.

you abandoned your original plan of pulling down his pants, instead dragging your pelvis against the hard muscle there, the ridges of his core feeling absolutely divine against your cunt. the only thing you can do with your hands is to hold them up, careful not to put any force on his chest while your hips move against his front and you’re moaning, softly. it feels too good to stay silent, letting out short breaths and wanton pleas of his name.

within a few rocks of your hips, you can feel your high already approaching, a little embarrassed at how wet his skin was from your dripping cunt but the feeling of it all makes you lost in pleasure, not even realising how, now, there was a pair of blue eyes staring back at you.

“wow.” 

“satoru!” you jump at the sudden voice interrupting your deep spell of pleasure, not surprised when all he does is sneak a peek at his torso and just smirks, taking a finger and swiping at the soaked skin of his abs. he pops it into his mouth, humming, satisfied with the taste and you can feel your body heating up from the need and the desperation for gojo after being away from him for three days.

you’re just unaware he’s also missed you like a dog misses a bone, and he’s so goddamn hard it hurts, but he’d do anything for his pretty baby to get off first.

gojo grins, “why’d you stop?”

“i— uhm, just— ah!” you know that grin only ever holds sinister thoughts when he flexes his torso and stimulates your clit, enjoying the sudden moan you let out, “’t-toru…”

you start moving unconsciously, body sagging over his as your hands find their place on his chest and you press hard, gojo’s breath being taken away both literally and figuratively when you grind down onto his naked skin with the attractive bend of your body, the ridges of his abs making your pussy feel so good.

“sato— oh, f-fuck!” you whine out as he places his hands on your hips to help you, leaving trails of fire hot touches along your ass and waist. his hands are so big, too, the simple movement of his hands on you is enough to make you clench around nothing.

“that’s it…” satoru is entranced by your cunt, dragging up and down his middle while your whimpers taint his ears and he’s hoping you’d cum soon just so he can see your trembling thighs and beautiful voice. “that’s right, ride me like a good lil girl— shit, clenching ’round nothin’.”

“g’na cum?” nodding, your pelvis moves desperately on his torso as gojo’s words make you mewl out for him, the burn in your core finally releasing when his hands spread on your plush ass that it has your clit pushed up all against him and your hips stutter in cute little jerks.

“satoru, satoru, satoru, oh my god—!” and you cum loudly with chants of his name, cunt leaking more and more cum that all he can do is watch, asking you with a sweet voice to lie back on his legs while he spreads your pussy to see just how wet you are, a glistening shine on your folds. gojo just grins, licking his lips with a glint in his eyes and a throbbing cock — the morning’s just started.

✶ GETO

sometimes geto was a professional at hiding what he was really feeling — at how annoyed he gets when someone brushes your opinion off, or the anger when gojo accidentally had smacked you hard while explaining something. but because he was so adept in this skill, you never really know what he’s thinking until you’re teasing him in public.

you whine when your hands are slapped away from his pecs, an aht aht leaving him when all you want is some balance. but geto is mean when he wants to be, and he’s not entirely happy after the stunt you pulled in the high-end fashion store today. a show of brattiness and teasing, asking him to come into the dressing room just to bend over with your ass right on his cock. this photo would look so cute as my wallpaper, suguru!

you were right, even if geto didn’t want to admit it, but it’s the last thing on your mind now when you’re been denied your orgasm twice already, forced to ride your boyfriend’s abs with no one to help you.

“su’,” you mumble, going delirious from how much your clit ached, and yet you weren’t allowed to cum until he thinks you can, hands going everywhere from your hair to your face just to have some sort of ground. “w’nna cum, p-please… ’m sorry sugu—”

a high-pitched moan leaves you when geto tenses his torso, enjoying your show as he leans back comfortably with both arms behind his head. you look so stunning like this, begging for release while your body contorts in all sorts to grind your clit into him with more friction. it’s so cute, and while geto doesn’t enjoy being tested in public, there’s a thrill in denying it and then giving it all to you later until you’re begging for him to stop.

“what was that?” he makes an act of putting a hand to his ear, “didn’t hear you, baby.”

“’m sorry, suguruu— s-shit,” your hips speed up when you find a particular spot, apologies continuing to spill from your lips until they’re cut off but geto grabbing your hands, being a little lenient as he lets you use his chest. your moans turn into thankful whimpers paired with the lewd sounds of your pussy against skin, fingers feeling all around him from his neck to his hair and unaware of how geto could cum just from how you use him like a fucktoy.

maybe he should capture this.

“dirty little slut, hm?” you only could hum and agree, babbling out some yes’s aimlessly as you continue to grind your puffy clit on his front, a yelp sounding when geto prods at your entrance which is sopping wet. “look at you soaking my tummy, naughty girl.”

“yea— yeah, yeah, ’m your naughty girl haah—” as his finger nudges into your hole, you mewl and your mouth hangs open, thick finger already stretching you out nicely and he smiles, watching you amused while as your expression melts into rolled back eyes and thrown back head.

“yeah, you are,” geto mutters breathlessly under his breath, making haste to grab his phone with your photo on the screen to open the camera and presses record — something he loves documenting for a folder named ‘my eyes only ♡’ that’s full of you getting ruined.

“smile for the camera, pretty darlin’,” and your drunken state is captured right up to the moment suguru inserts another finger and he’s so glad he’s got it on camera — your whines, your faltering hips, your hooded eyes, your wet pussy — his cute baby smiling so brightly at the camera while you ride yourself into oblivion on geto’s abs, absolutely loving the attention.

because even if geto swears he loves putting you in your place, he loves seeing you in pleasure more, especially when it’s all just for him.

✶ NANAMI

“kento, can i try something?” you mumble, a little shy at the idea that popped up randomly in the outing with your friends earlier. you couldn’t wait to get home right after to try it out only to find that your boyfriend was still on his mission. a cold shower, your favourite show couldn’t distract you one bit, practically jumping up when he comes through the door at ten o’ clock.

nanami who never misses a night to read a few pages of his book, puts it down, a curious tilt of his head that’s got your heart full and pumping fast, both at the cute gesture and the thing you were about to suggest.

“in what way, baby?” he gives you his undivided attention, glasses pulled off his face and you suddenly don’t want to say anything until you remember the aching pulse of your cunt and you think that it would be worth it.

“uhm—” you stutter, taking his reading glasses from his hand and the book as well, setting them down on the bedside table. in a second you’re straddling him, being the victim of a knowing slight smirk and wandering hands on your waist.

“if you had this in mind, you should’ve just told me, dear,” nanami smiles at your flustered state, but is dumbfounded when you pull up the fabric of his nightshirt and move up just an inch from his hips to his torso, sighing softly to yourself when your pelvis meets the dips of his abs.

and before nanami can ask, you’re moving slowly, experimentally and it’s a little humbling when you’ve got this hot blonde guy across you staring at you with a raised eyebrow, but he eases it into it immediately, cooing at your unsatisfied cravings, no doubt getting hints from the message he got from you earlier, multiple messages of i miss you’s and what time are you coming home?’s

“need some help, darling?” you whisper a small yeah, letting him tug your underwear off one leg and then the other, not missing the way his eyes follow the wet spot on the fabric before tossing it to the side.

“if you wanted to grind on me, you could’ve just said so,” he says matter-of-factly, like it‘s just another day at work but nanami’s also been thinking of you the whole time, too, eyeing the way your nipples start to harden. he chuckles at the twitch he immediately feels in your cunt, teasing her a little but rubbing a thumb over your clit and a soft moan leaves your lips.

“’s embarrasin’,” you hum, lowering yourself against his body to hide and your elbows wrap around his head, soft blonde hair tickling your arms. but at that point it’s invitation for nanami to nudge the thin shirt up your body and effectively disrobing you before he latches his mouth onto your hardened buds, sending a choked whimper past your lips.

“k-kento, baby… ohh my god—” the feel of his tongue flicking against your nipples and sucking hard on them prompts your hips to hump faster, panting and moaning like a dog in heat while you start to soak his torso. nanami groans when he feels the wetness of your pretty pussy, unconsciously tensing his core. 

“kento… f-fuck—!” he’s preoccupied with your tits, moving to the other one and repeats the process and your back arches in his hold, a pornographic whine going straight to his ears and right down to his cock.

“s’good for me, my love, doing so w-well…” nanami trembles when he feels your pussy contract and clamp around air, pulling away to look at your tear-filled face and knitted eyebrows and he feels a little guilty from being away the whole day.

“can you cum for me, hm?” nanami asks breathlessly, hands squeezing the fat of your breasts before they glide down to your ass, helping your tired hips. “cum for me, baby girl.”

you’re closer once those words leave his mouth and his lips capture yours in a harsh kiss, both groaning and moaning into each other’s mouths until you announce you’re cumming, hard. your hips move erratically, whining into nanami’s hair as your juices seep from your folds, leaving his torso dripping wet and soaking. but you’re so high from the orgasm that you squeak when his tip prod at your entrance.

it feels so good and soon you’re wiggling down to get his fat cock into you, pussy fluttering when his length stretches you out.

“’m gonna make it up to you, darling,” nanami grunts at the way your cunt feels around him, “been missin’ you so damn much today too.”

✶ TOJI

“baby, don’t think we should do this—” toji grunts when he feels you push him down onto your bed, headboard creaking just from how long you’ve had it. he would know, anyway, especially since toji had seen the bed in your room ever since he’s met your dad a few years ago when you were still in college. but now you’re bolder and older, clad in a short skirt with no panties and toji’s shirt.

because even when toji mumbled things like that in fear of your father finding out, you know he couldn’t resist you and your pussy.

“then how come you’re hard, toji-san?” he groans when you straddle his body that has a tight shirt on, the juices of your cunt leaking through. his hands immediately feel you up, palms going under the skirt and fondling your ass and he thinks that maybe he should let loose for once. toji isn’t sure when you had gotten so mesmerising, admiring the way you always helped your dad selflessly, contributing to his paperwork and bringing him coffee.

but until you’ve started dressing more provocatively around toji, he’s never noticed the way you grow into your features either, until one day you’re coming home after your second year of university in a tight pair of yoga pants, talking about joining some sports club to your dad while toji can’t take his eyes off of you.

it was so wrong of him, he knows, but when you’re confessing that night how you’ve recently been thinking about him, he loses all restraint he had, swallowing your cries of his name as he fucked you so good that night.

toji tsks, “dirty girl. grinding on your dad’s best friend like a whore. none of the boys at uni can fuck you good?”

you grin and shake your head, lifting your hips to pull the shirt off his body while he props himself up on his elbows to make it easier; the sheer size of shoulders and torso makes you lightheaded every time, toned in every area, albeit a little less years ago.

“y-yeah, toji-san, love it s’much…” your hips move on their own accord, eyes meeting his hooded ones as you drag your pussy up and down his middle, gasping when the hand that was caressing your ass lands a loud smack! that resonates throughout the room. you burn with shyness after, a pout making its way to your face before you bend down to hover an inch to his face.

“don’t wan’ dad to hear, toji…” you mumble, loving how you had so much effect over him by the way his chest heaves. It’s not often you see him, a normally cool-headed person, in this state, and toji’s equally enamoured by you as he smirks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“what if i want him to hear, pretty girl?”

you mewl, hips starting and halting every few times from the way toji stares at you. “what if i want your father to hear how my cock stretches your little pussy, hm? or how you’ll bring coffee to him with my cum leaking out your cunt?” his green eyes are unwavering, hand guiding you on his abs that flex and contract, making pleasurable contact with your needy clit.

“maybe then he’ll know what a little slut his sweet, sweet girl is,” toji voice mutters with a lilt and a rasp, drunk on the way your whimpers turn needier and sluttier, hips moving picking up their speed.

“wan’ you to ruin me, toji,” you drag out his name, the wetness of your cunt making obscene noises in the quietness of the room while your dad watches a football match downstairs, and you hope he doesn’t notice how his best friend and you have left the living room for too long.

“i’ll do that after you cum on me, angel,” toji grunts, rocking his body with you as your juices stain his skin, pleasantly surprised when you take one of his hands and stick his fingers in your mouth, sucking on it like how you usually would with his cock; the other swears he might just cum from that, and how you’re clenching around nothing, finally cumming hard with widened eyes and a slack jaw.

“cumming— cumming, cumming, toji…!” toji coos as you continue to ride out your high with cum dripping down your thighs and his body, a sly grin spreading across his face when he hears you say that they’ll be having another important football match after this and your dad wouldn’t miss it for the world.

you giggle as he places a gentle kiss to your lips, hands making quick work of his pants, “glad i get to have more time with my good girl, then.”

[noearchives]

sober me up

(what happens when the one piece boys are drunk?)

characters: portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.

note: personally i've never been drunk enough to the point where i lose my mind or anything like that ... so this is just based off of my imagination and stuff i see in movies ;;

cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, mentions of alcohol, unestablished relationship, mutual pining.

portgas d. ace

"woah,” ace whispers, head tilted to one side as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, saying your name in the same way he did when he met you for the first time.“is that really you?”

you're not sure if he’s putting up an act to flirt, or if he’s actually so drunk to the point where he can’t tell his imagination from reality. not knowing how to reply, you hand him a glass of water in a fluster in hopes that he’ll sober up, and he downs the entire thing in one go, mistaking it for liquor.

“wow,” ace says again, awestruck. it’s like his eyes are put in a spell to look at nothing else but you. his reaches for your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. nonsense runs off his tongue as he stumbles deep into your gaze in spirals. “you're so pretty i could kiss you.”

he pauses. “can i?”

fuck it, you think. he’s drunk out of his mind, you're tipsy enough to use it as an excuse. it won't hurt if you kissed your best friend who you’ve been pining for since the dawn of time when he won't even remember anything the day after, right?

so you agree to his request, and ace wastes no time with how quickly he slides his tongue into your mouth just after two seconds of his lips meeting yours— it’s like he doesn't want you to breathe.

when he finally lets go of you, you gasp like a fish out of water while he looks at you stupidly. his mind is filled with you, you, you. one kiss isn't enough to satisfy him— he’s been dreaming of this for months, afterall. with both hands on either side of your face, he makes a bold statement once again.

“let’s do that again.”

trafalgar d. water law

law doesn't drink much, but he can't say no to his crew when they offer. initially, he planned to stay sober for the rest of the night to look after all of you, but as shachi and penguin continue to pour him drink after drink, his head grows heavier with every sip of liquor.

he stays quiet even when he’s drunk. no bold confessions, no impulsive acts, nothing. he just watches his crew drink themselves stupid, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

with the loud hustle of the bar and the deafening laughter of your crewmates, it’s hard to notice how intoxicated law has become until you feel a foreign weight on your shoulder. a white fur hat lands on your lap, and you only realise your captain’s resting his head on you with his eyes closed then.

“captain?” you say. your heart’s beating out of your chest. “captain, you're drunk.”

“i know.” he mumbles in reply, looking silly with his cheek squished against your shoulder.

“let me get you some water.” you try to move out of your seat, but your body doesn't budge. law’s arm holds you down firmly, and you feel the skin under his touch tingle. “captain," you say again, weaker this time. you're not sure if your lungs are working properly with how he's rendered you breathless. "you've gotta let me go," you say, betraying your heart.

"no," law mumbles against you. his hold on you tightens, and you swear he's nuzzling into your neck.

at that point, you decide that he's had one too many and that he needs to be sobered up or else he'd be in a sour mood the morning after. you awkwardly prop his arm on your shoulders as you drag him back to the polar tang with the knowing gazes of your crewmates on your backs, your captain's hat in your hand as you strain to support his weight.

"ah, young love." penguin sighs.

sanji

being an absolute lightweight, sanji's already swaying with his tie off and a few buttons undone after two shots.

"oh, my love." he sing-songs. my love? you raise an eyebrow at the nickname. "the way you look at me makes my stomach flip. your eyes are brighter than the stars, and the way you say my name tugs at my heartstrings. would you make a poor man like me happy by just looking his way?" he rambles, freestyling a verbal love letter for you right then and there. you've heard him do the same for robin and nami, but never for you. (until now, of course.)

the crew's swordsman physically cringes in second-hand embarrassment. "curly, do all of us a favor and shut that mouth of yours."

miraculously, sanji doesn't retort like he usually does. instead, he takes your hand in his as he continues his weird love poem. "if only this wasn't a dream, and i had the courage to confess my love for you in the real world. alas!"

... and he starts crying. actual tears rolling down his cheeks and everything. "but i know you would never love a pathetic man like me!" he sobs into your lap, kneeling before you as your ship's navigator averts her gaze out of embarrassment, grumbling about how her efforts of keeping his secret are wasted.

though ridiculously stupid, his confession made your heart stop. after all this time, it turns out that he's equally as smitten as you are when you thought his heart belonged to someone else. (it's hard not to assume with the way he behaves around good-looking women.)

"why did nobody tell me...?" you ask, looking around as the strawhats look away with a supressed grin.

"because he said he'll kick our asses if any of us said anything. geez, both of you are so stupid. can't you see the way he makes those disgusting heart eyes at you every time you pass by?" the swordsman grumbles.

sanji's arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist after he's done with his improv love poem. "you're so warm, even in my dreams..." he mumbles. it seems like he still hasn't realized this isn't a dream.

the two of you are going to have a looooong talk when he sobers up, you're sure.

[chriss-slut]

Puddin'

~ Dom!Chris X sub!fem!reader ~

Synopsis: Your friends slip up who's your favorite character, but also your fantasy kink.

warning: SMUT!! rough unprotected sex, petnames, degradation kink, daddy kink, cursing, and a lot of stuff that i can't even remeber anymore lol

A/N: this is kinda MY fantasy kink so.. 😀 btw if there's any spelling mistakes, im sorry, i didnt have time to check it :)

I have always been, in some way, a big fan of Harley Quinn (if not obsessed). I discovered her when i was around 12 years old, when Suicide Squad came out. Everything about her inspired me. Whether it was her behavior, intelligence, madness, or eccentricity, deep down, I dreamed of being like her, of being as sexy and alluring.

As I grew older, my passion for her became something I no longer showcased, simply out of fear of being judged by others. I was now 20 years old, and it seemed weird, even boring, to others to see me in the same costume at every dress-up party.

When I met Chris, I never really talked to him about this little obsession I had, mainly out of fear that he would find it strange.

Up until now, everything had been going well between us, and I didn't find it important. He didn't need to know more about this subject.

I was at home with Chris and my two best friends. We had planned to spend the afternoon together so they could meet, especially since our relationship had just become official.

Everything was going well until Julia started talking about what I was trying to keep secret:

"Oh, by the way, are you still coming tomorrow night?" Julia asked me, completely changing the subject while munching on her chips.

"Tomorrow night?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah, to Noah's costume party, like every year, Y/N!" she said in a "duh" tone, rolling her eyes.

"Um... I forgot. Honestly, I don't think so. Chris and I had planned to spend the evening together, so it's going to be difficult for me," I said, trying to find a plausible excuse to avoid further questions.

"What??!" she exclaimed, looking disappointed.

"You can come with him, and that way, you can get to know us a bit more, Chris!" added my other friend Stella, turning to my boyfriend with a big smile, and the others nodded in agreement.

"That would be nice," Chris replied with a shrug.

"See? Come on, you're coming. I don't really plan to give you a choice. We go every year, there's no way you're skipping it this time!" Julia added.

"I don't have a costume anyway, and I'm exhausted right now. It's going to be a no from me, guys, sorry," I said, trying to sound genuinely disappointed.

"You're such a liar. Are you going to make me believe you don't have a costume when you spend all your time dressing up as Harley Quinn at every opportunity?" she said, laughing.

My eye widen and i start blushing a bit. Chris turned to me, and i look at Julia with a face that says "Please, just shut your mouth."

"Oh, because, yes, I suppose you already know, but your girlfriend is completely obsessed with Harley Quinn. It's like she's totally in love with her!" Julia said to Chris, giggling.

"Julia! oh my god!" I said, embarrassed, now trying to hide my face in my hands.

"She's not wrong," Stella added. What a bunch of traitors.

"You never told me about this?" Chris said, confused, while I stood there, dying of embarrassment at the thought that the girls might make things worse.

"What, you mean she never bored you with her Harley Quinn obsession? I'm sure her biggest kink would be sleeping with you dressed as her!" Julia said without any restraint, and this time it was too much for me.

"Julia!! What the fuck is wrong with you!" I said, getting angry.

"Wow, calm down, I was just joking," she said, frowning.

Stella's mouth was wide open, and Chris looked like he didn't know where to put himself.

"You guys should go home. 'm tired, I need to rest," I said to escape the situation.

"What, seriously? You're going to be mad at me for this? Y/N!" I heard Julia shout as I left the room.

I went up to my room and shut the door behind me. My reaction was probably over the top, but I didn't want Chris to know about this. She had no right to humiliate me like that in front of him. I bury my face in my pillow and try to think about something else.

After a few minutes, I heard some knocks on my door.

"Julia, go away! I don't want to talk to you!" I shouted from my bed.

I heard the door open anyway, so I turned around to tell her to leave, but to my surprise, it was Chris.

"I'm not Julia, sorry to break it to you," he said, trying to make me laugh.

"It's not funny," I said, rolling my eyes before sitting up on my bed.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"You're already inside anyway..." I speak, shrugging

"Are you mad at me or Julia? I don't understand anymore," he said, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.

"Sorry," I replied, biting my lip, and he came to sit next to me.

"The girls left and asked me to tell you they really want you to be there tomorrow night," he said, placing his hand on the small of my back, and I sighed.

"Listen, I'd be very happy to go with you. I don't mind. We can always come back together and spend time alone after the party, but I don't want you to fight with your friends because of me," he said, and I turned my head towards him.

"That's not why I fought with them, Chris," I said, looking back at the floor.

"Then what was it about?" he asked.

"It's something stupid. I don't really want to talk about it!" I said, feeling the embarrassment return.

"Come on, tell me. I'm not going to judge you," he said, shaking his head.

"No!" I said, avoiding his gaze.

"Is it because of what she said about your obsession with Harley Quinn?" he asked.

"I'm not obsessed with her!" I said, getting angry.

“And that’s not what I implied. I was just repeating her words!” he responded immediately.

I sighed, realizing it was becoming ridiculous to keep this hidden from him any longer.

“Yes…” I said softly.

“Why did it upset you so much?” he asked.

“Because I was afraid she’d say more, and you’d find it weird!” I sighed.

“Why would I find it weird?” he said, gently rubbing my back.

“I don’t know…” I said, shrugging.

“I don’t find you weird, Y/N. You have every right to be a fan of any fictional character if it makes you happy. I really like Harley Quinn, too. You could have told me; I would have been happy to talk about it with you, baby,” he said, smiling.

My eyes sparkle as i hear him say that and i immediately look at him again. “Really?” I said, looking at him with admiration. I truly have a wonderful boyfriend.

“You know what, why don’t you dress up as Harley Quinn, and I’ll be your Joker? That way, you won’t miss the party, and I get to spend time with you and your friends,” he suggested, standing up.

I smiled at him, leaned to hug him tightly, and nodded.

“And when we get back from the party, I’d be happy to fuck you in your costume to fulfill your kink,” he whispered in my ear, playfully smacking my ass.

“Chris, she made that part up!!” I said, blushing deeply.

“Too bad, I was really down for that part,” he said, laughing.

i laugh too, still embarrassed, and i stand up, going to the bathroom.

_______

it's now the next day, almost 8pm, and I'm with my boyfriend arriving at my place. We just left the mall, where we went to buy a Joker costume to him.

i open my front door and we both run towards my room, since we're kinda late.

"dress up in there while i do it in the bathroom, okay?? i want it to be a surprise for you!" i say sweetly, quickly pecking Chris' lips before heading to the bathroom.

after an hour or so, i knock on the bathroom door so i can have Chris' attention and i shout from inside "Are you done??"

"Uh... I've been done for 20 minutes, Y/N." he says from my bedroom.

I burst out laughing for a bit and then i open the door, making a little pose for Chris, showing my costume.

Chris' jaw drops as soon as i open the door. He stands up and stay froze, staring at me.

i giggle softly and go over him, resting my hands in his chest "What'chu think?" i speak, in a slightly higher-pinched voice, trying to recreate Harley's voice.

Chris' jaw just drops more after hear me, he stays froze for a few more moments until he finally speaks. "wow... you look... wow!"

I giggle "you liked it?"

"Liked it? I just fell in love with you all over again!" he says, now hugging me tightly and lifting me from the ground.

I laugh cute and hug him back, tightly. "I'm so happy you liked it!"

Chris buries is face on the crook of my neck, sucking it softly. "There was no way for me to not like it. you look so hot." he whisper before kissing my neck.

I moan softly and move my hand to caress his hair. "thank you, baby..." i speak before pulling away and look at him. "You talking about me when you look like THAT is crazy!"

He grins at me "thank you, sweetheart! Lets go to that party, then?"

"Yeaaah!!" i yell happily, jumping.

He chuckles at my jump and grabs his stuff. We walk out of my house, going to the party.

After a while, we arrive at Noah's house. A lot of people outside of it, all dress up as various characters and monsters. I lead Chris into the party and after a few seconds, Julia and Stella run up to us.

"HEY, GIIIRL!!" Stella yells, happy to see me, as she hugs me from the side.

"Hey, guys!!" Julia shouts at us both, still a bit scared of me being mad at her.

"Hii!" Chris says at them, waving with a smile.

"Hi, girls! Love your costume!" I speak at Stella. She nods with a smile "Thank you! You look amazing yourself, but I'm used to see it already,"

I laugh softly, not really happy about her comment but i brush it off. "You look good too, Ju!" I speak at Julia.

She smiles at me "Thank you! You too, as always... Can i ask you something?" Julia says, with a soft expression. "Yeah, sure!" i say back.

"Uh... i just wanted to know if you're still mad at me for yesterday... I've been thinking about it all night and, I'm sorry..." She speaks softly.

I smile reassuringly "It's okay... I'm sorry too! I shouldn't have become so mad at you..."

She smiles softy and nods "It's okay, i guess we both screwed up!"

"Yeah, but its alright!" i lean to hug her as she does the same.

Suddenly, Stella speaks, loudly. "So, let's party?!?" We all yell "yess!" and that way, the party begins!

______

After hours, me and Chris are going back to my place, tired from dancing and jumping all night.

I open my front door and Chris holds the door for me to enter, smacking my ass playfully as i pass through him.

"Let's to the room. Now." He speaks in a soft but demanding way, which makes me a bit confused but i obey.

Once we get into my room, Chris closes the door behind him and quickly presses me in it, causing me to gasp softly.

"Remember what i told you yesterday??" Chris speaks, his hands caressing my sides.

"U-uh... y-yeah..?" i speak, slightly nervous, since Chris looks so hot and in a rough mood right now.

He smirks and attacks my lips in a hungry kiss. We both make out for a while. As we're still kissing, he puts his hands under my ass and picks me up from the floor, taking me to bed, where he throws me on.

He crawls on top of me and says, looking down at me "You look so damn hot right now. You have no idea how much i had to control myself to not drag you to a bathroom and fuck you right there." He leans and starts kissing my neck, intensively.

I moan in response and i wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling his body closer to mine.

"Tell me, what do you want me to do with you, Puddin'" Chris whispers, making me freeze for a second. Him calling Joker's nickname to Harley made me see stars... and made me wet.

"i-i want you to fuck me..." i say softly.

"huh? i didn't hear you, baby." he says, now lifting his head to look at me.

"i-i want you to fuck me, Chris. Please!" i whine, already desperate.

Chris smirks at me "Good girl" he says before leaning to kiss me again.

While we kiss, he takes off my Harley Quinn Jacket and toss it to the side. He gives wet kisses down my face to my collarbone, where he stays as he takes off my boots.

"mmh, you're so hot, babygirl~" he mumbles as he kisses me.

i moan softly in response, my hands now trying to take his jacket off, which he helps me with.

After a while kissing, he's now in just his jeans as i still have almost the full costume on.

He grabs my jaw tightly and speaks, firmly "you gonna do justice to your costume and act like a little slut f'me?"

I look up at him with puppy eyes and nod. He smirks and whispers "Good girl~" He moves two of his fingers that was on my jaw and slide it into my mouth, pressing it on my tongue.

"Fuck, you look so good like this... oh, imma fuck you so so good today~" He speaks, in a sensual tone.

I moan against his fingers, swirling my tongue around it.

He then takes his fingers off my mouth with a bop and attacks my lips again, then going down to my neck as his hands go under my shirt, caressing my chest over my bra. He lifts my shirt and move his hands to my back, unbuckling my bra and taking it off, without taking off my Harley Quinn shirt.

He then leans and suck my nipples, which makes me moan "mmh Chris...please, i need you..."

Chris lets out a soft chuckle and grabs my jaw again, harshly, making me look at him "I'm the one in control, got it?" he says in a demanding tone. i just nod, looking up at him.

He nods back and start kissing and sucking my breasts again, now going down my stomach, until he reaches my red and blue tight shorts.

"i gotta take this off, it drove me crazy all night." he speaks, now pulling it down, letting me in my fishnet tights, my thongs and my Harley shirt. He looks down at me and bite his lip. Chris caress my thighs and spreads them, softly passing his hand in my clothed pussy, making me whimper. "Chris, Please..."

"Did you not hear me when i said i was in control??" he speaks in a serious tone "I'll do whatever i want with you, understand?"

I sigh softly and nod. "Good." he speaks before slapping my inner thigh hardly, earning a loud moan from me.

"God, you're so good to spank!" he says, slapping my other inner thigh hardly, i moan loud again.

"Turn around f'me, ma" he speaks to me and i immediately do it. He smirk down, looking at my ass, half covered with my square tights and he spanks my ass, strongly. i cry loud, burying my face in my pillow.

He grabs a fist of my hair and pull my head back, for me to look at him. "Don't wanna mess that make up yet, do ya?" i shake my head, whining from the pain in my scalp. He throws my head on the pillow again, now with my head to the side. He slaps my ass again, and again, and again, making me whine in pain, but also in pleasure.

The last time he slaps my ass, he spanks between my ass cheeks, making me moan loud. He lets out a soft chuckle from my reaction and says "Looks like someone likes to be spanked, isn't that truth?" i whine in response and he slaps the same place again, now gripping my hair again. "answer me. with words." he speaks firmly and demanding. "y-yeah, i do... i-... i l-like it..." i speak, whiny. He lets go of my hair and whispers in my ear "you're so pathetic, aren't you? Look at you, looking like a real whore f'me"

He slaps my ass again and turns me around one more time. He digs his fingers in my square tights, right between my legs, and he stretch it out, ripping it over my pussy. He looks at my sexy thong and he looks at me with a smirk. "is this for me?" I nod softly. He slaps my clothed pussy, making me whine loud, with a smirk. "Be ready, i think you'll need to~" he says to me, before ripping my thong and tossing it to the side.

Seeing him ripping my clothes always make me more turned on, seeing his arms muscles flex gives me butterflies.

He slides his finger through my wet slit and he says "so wet for me. such a little slut for liking me treating you like this." He pushes one finger in my hole, making me moan a bit. He keeps with it in, not moving, and he looks at me. "Look at you... I'd take a photo of you just to show everyone how much of a slut you are... looking so good just for me."

Suddenly, Chris pulls his finger out and slam three fingers into me, making me moan. He starts fingering me roughly, hardly and fast.

"O-oh Chris! fuck!" i moan, leaning my head back from the intense pleasure.

He, then, stops again, making me moan frustrated. "All fours. Now." he speaks demanding and i do it, my ass now almost at his face.

Chris slaps my ass and caress my wet cunt. "so beautiful like this, puddin'... so perfect~"

I whine softly in response and he stands up, unbelting his pants. He grabs his belt and hit the bed hardly with it. "If you do something i didn't tell you to, you'll pay for it. Got it?" i nod frantically.

He pulls down his pants and take them off, tossing it to the pile of clothes on the floor. He grips my hips and pull me to the edge of the bed, so he can fuck me while standing up. He grabs both my ponytails and pull my head back. "You gonne be a good girl and not cum for me until i say it, alright? Don't leave this position and don't scream too loud until i let you, alright?" He speaks in a firm and demanding tone.

"Yeah..." i speak softly. "Yeah, what?" Chris says, pulling even more my hair. "Y-yes, daddy..." i whine. Chris slaps my ass and throw my head forward "Good girl~".

Chris rubs his clother hard dick against my wet pussy, making me moan softly. "You're so wet you're making my boxers soaked. slut!" He pulls his boxers down and slams into me, making me scream loud. He lean over my back and slaps his hand on my mouth, pulling it back harshly. "What didn't you understand about not. screaming.?" I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut, and speak against his mouth "i'm sorry..."

Chris lets out a breathy mockingly laugh and takes his hand off my mouth, my head falling down harshly. "fucking pathetic." Chris mutters, now pulling slowly out of me. i whine at the sensation and then moan loud, trying hard not to scream, when he slams into me again.

Chris moves one hand to under my shirt, squeezing my breast, and the other to my hip, now starting to thrust in and out of my cunt.

I moan as he fucks me, slowly. "Chris, please..."

Chris stops middle-way and says demanding "First off, I'm not giving you want you want. second, you're not calling me that."

I whine softly "S-sorry, daddy..." Chris slaps my ass again and start thrusting into me again, still slowly.

After a while, i give up on moaning and i stay quiet. My head down with my eyes squeezed shut. Chris notices that and start going faster, hitting my g-point every time he pushes into me. i moan and i lean down to rest on my elbows, my back arched and my ass higher.

Chris slaps my ass again and groans lowly. "mmh, baby~ why are you so hot and perfect? looking like a real slut like this, while your pussy clenches around me. fuck!" He starts punding harder, slapping my ass a few more times.

I moan deep, trying to not be loud though. Chris keeps pounding into me until my cunt starts clenching too much around his cock. He stops and speaks "You ain't cummin' now, bitch. You know what happens if you do." and starts fucking me hard again. i start moaning louder, trying my hardest to not cum. I whine "p-puddin'... p-please... i-i can't..."

Chris slaps my ass the hardest he can and says, roughly "No. You're not cummin, Y/N. Or should i call you..." he leans over me, putting his mouth right behing my ear "Harley?".

I can feel the knot in my stomach almost exploding ad he whispers that to me. I can't believe I'm finally realizing this fantasy.

He feels my pussy clenching more around him as he says that and he laughs, smacking my ass again. "oh, you liked it, dont you? you want me to call you Harley? Is that it?"

i nod frantically, barely able to speak at this point. "Words." Chris says roughly, pouding into me roughly.

"o-oh.. y-yeah, d-daddy! p-please, c-call me t-that! o-oh, fuck, its so g-good! p-please!" i whine slightly loud, tears forming in my eyes already.

Chris smirks and start fucking me harder and faster. "fuck, ma! s-such a fucking slut! such a whore f'me!" he says, groaning. I'm so glad i told Chris i liked being degrated! I'm wetter than i was supposed to.

i keep moaning loudly "d-daddy, please! i-i need to cum! p-please lemme cum!" i whine.

Suddenly, Chris pulls out and turn me around, so we're now in missionary.

Chris slams into me again and puts his hand around my neck, hard enough to hurt but not for me to be breathless. "If you gonna cum, I'll see you cum. Gotta see that pretty face with that pretty make up all messed up." He puts his hand on my face and slides it down, messing even more my Harley Quinn makeup.

He, then, slides two fingers into my mouth the deepest he can, fucking my mouth as he fucks my cunt. He starts pounding roughly again, making me scream against him fingers, also gagging a bit.

My eyes starts rolling back with tears, just as my back arching and hips jerking up, feeling myself really close to the edge.

"Look at you. All fucked up like a whore. You really became Harley Quinn, didn't you? That hot bitch. I bet you wanna fuck every guy of the city, don'chu? fuck, puddin'. you're so fucking beautiful." Chris speaks between groans as he pounds into me. i start moaning even louder as i feel myself not being able to hold my orgasm anymore. My cunt clenching around Chris' cock just makes him groan and moan more.

"Cum. Cum f'me, Harley. C'mon, babygirl, cum for daddy~" Chris whispers in my ear. That gives me the final push and i finally cum in his cock. Not a simple orgasm, though. All of this roleplay and dirty talk made me cum hard and squirt all over Chris, which makes him cum inside of me and collapse on top of me.

We both panting hard and shaking. We stay there for a while and then Chris pulls out, laying next to me.

"You did so good f'me, Harl..." He speaks softly, caressing my cheek

"y-you too, puddin'..." i say softly, still panting.

Chris leans and kissed my lips, a long peck. When he pulls away, he looks down at me, admiring me. "Why didn't you tell me this before? This was the best sex I've done in my life..."

i smile softly at him and speak softly, now turning to face him, "I'm sorry for that... if i get another kink, I'll promise to tell ya!"

i hope you liked it! pls comment what you think, I'd appreciate it! :) xoxo

[lilacs-stars]

aiming for your heart

this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: you agree to a tutoring session with your pirate classmate, but things end up taking an...unexpected twist. GENRE: pure fluff, a bit of banter CW: nothing much, just mentions of societal pressures WC: 7.9k (they just keep getting longer...)

A/N: I decided to finally do something cute and fluffy after days of working on dark angsty stuff and this felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air. it was so fun to write, so thanks to the anon who requested this for the fun idea! <3 please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd love to know your thoughts!

Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, cir—

“Ahh, oww!” you cry out as a very solid metal object collides with the side of your skull. Your hand instinctively goes up to the spot on your head—which you can already feel starting to swell—as you wince in pain. 

You’re supposed to throw the ring in the basket, not at my head, idiot, you think to yourself as you grimace. 

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you, I swear!” you glance around the room, locking eyes with your classmate just a few tables away, whose wand is still poised in their hand and a bewildered expression planted on their face. “I just can’t seem to control…this gosh darn wand…”

You let out a little sigh, trying your best to not be impatient. After all, you couldn’t expect everyone to be as experienced in this field as you are. 

You glance back at the student, who’s rereading their textbook pages for what’s probably the tenth time. As you watch them struggle, a pang of guilt hits you for being so mean and irritable. It’s not like they were trying to hit you, and even though it was just a thought passing through in the privacy of your mind, you still feel as though thinking something mean like that is wrong. 

You push your chair back and rise from your seat, wand tightly gripped in one hand. Walking over to your classmate’s desk, you give a small smile as you ask them, “Need any help?”

They look up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, yes, please! Enchantment of Magical Objects is literally the hardest class ever!”

You grin again, keeping your demeanor light and friendly, like always. “Okay, so first, you go up, then swish, then circle your wand back around, and finally flick, and then…”

You copy the movements with your own wand as you speak, small magical sparks flickering off it at your gestures. After you complete your little demonstration, you both watch as a hand-sized sleek metal ring, somewhat resembling a circular horseshoe, levitates off the desk and neatly lands in a bucket in the center of the room. 

Today’s assignment in your Enchantment class is to use the Aiming Spell to throw the rings into a bucket. Safe to say, it wasn’t really going well for most of the class. 

“Wow, that was amazing! You’re so good at this Y/N!” your now starry-eyed classmate exclaims. “And I can barely get my rings off my desk…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there,” you smile reassuringly. “After all, I’ve had a lot of experience around wands and enchantments.”

“Yeah, I suppose that is right. I guess not everyone can be as talented with magic as the Good Witch’s very own daughter.”

A small laugh escapes your lips, and you bid farewell to your classmate as you make your way back to your seat. They aren’t wrong, after all. Your mother, Glinda, taught you how to use a wand as soon as you could walk. You’ve been watching her use magic for ages, so it’s not a surprise to anyone that you’re top of your class. 

You sit back down, getting back to work. Even though you know you’ve already mastered the spell, you still have some class time left, which you decide to use wisely and continue practicing the spell. 

Staring at the pile of metal rings in front of you, you take a deep breath and begin the task of making each one levitate off your desk and make a perfect arch towards the basket. 

Up, swish, circle, flick. Up—swoosh!

A flying ring shoots straight past your face, barely missing you by only a few inches. You stumble backwards in your chair, quite startled. Still, it isn’t unusual to see objects flying around the classroom, or rather, objects flying where they’re not supposed to.

A moment later, another one whizzes past you again. Then a third, which gets so close to your face that you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Annoyed, your head snaps to your right, trying to figure out who keeps nearly decapitating you. 

You glance around, finally locking eyes with what seems to be the culprit. Chair leaning against the wall, tipped back on its hind two legs, sits a figure with deep brown eyes and smokey eyeshadow look to match. A smirk is planted on his face, a mischievous glint in his gaze. He wears a dark red jacket on top of a black dress shirt, the collar disheveled and his tie loose around his neck. Contrary to his tousled outfit, his medium-length brown hair is neatly slicked back. One of his hands leisurely holds a wand while the other rests behind his head, and combined with the way he has a leg crossed over the other, one would think he’s enjoying a nice day at the beach instead of sitting in class at one of the most prestigious academies in the land.

You fix him with a look, your gaze subconsciously morphing into a glare as he jerks the wand up, causing one of the metal rings in front of him to levitate a few inches off his desk. With a flick of the wrist, he sends it flying across the room once again. Having learned your lesson, this time you duck down, eyes following the disk as it soars across the room. You watch as it shoots straight towards its target, who expertly crouches as the metal ring hits the wall behind him with a thud, falling to the ground and joining the previous disks.

The target of these attacks is a boy you recognize to be a good friend of the ring-throwing troublemaker, with light brown hair brushed away from his forehead and dressed in a dark green shirt with a black choker around his neck. Morgie le Fay shoots a glare across the room to his perpetrator, making a face that could only mean “You’ll pay for this later.”

Another disk comes shooting at his head, and he ducks down yet again. This time, the metal hits the wall so hard, you worry it left a dent. Unable to take their child-like behavior any longer, you get up from your seat for the second time and stomp your way over to the disk-thrower.

“Hook!” you say as you reach his table. The man in question tilts his head towards you, looking up with an amused grin.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, lassie?” he replies, his accent crisp and unmistakable. 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, knowing it would be terribly rude, even if he was getting on your nerves like no other. You settle for fixing him with another look. “Could you please stop hurling those disks around? It’s not the assignment, and you practically hit me!”

“My apologies, love,” Hook replies, still peering up at you, unbothered. You honestly doubt he means it, so you frown and try again. “I’m being serious, Hook.”

“As am I,” he replies, making you want to smack that stupid smirk off his face. Deep breaths, deep breaths, you remind yourself. Violence is never the answer. You find it funny how you can almost hear your mother’s voice as you repeat those words in your head, the ones she always tells you.

“So you’ll stop?” you ask, raising a brow and putting your hands on your hips to show him you’re not messing around.

“Ah, well, you see,” Hook starts, and it takes every ounce of benevolence in you to not internally combust at whatever excuse he’s planning to come up with. “I’m having a tad bit of trouble with this spell, love. No matter what I do, I simply can’t seem to lock on to the right target.”

At this, you raise your eyebrows again, disbelief laced through your every cell. “Why don’t you give it a go,” you say, jerking your chin towards the basket in the middle of the room. “You never know until you don’t try.”

Hook leans forward in his chair, righting it again so it stands on all four legs. He raises his wand, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s actually concentrating on the task at hand. One of the metal disks rises into the air, levitating a meter above the floor.

Hook flicks his wand forward and the disk sails away, missing the basket in an almost laughable attempt at execution. Instead of the proper target, it lands on the edge of a file cabinet in the far corner of the room. You pray for the poor soul that will inevitably open one of its drawers, only to be smacked in the head by a piece of solid steel.

Eyebrows raised, Hook unabashedly turns back around to face you with that grin of his. “So how was that, love? Satisfied?”

“Not quite,” you huff, shaking your head at him. “Honestly, I haven’t seen anyone make such a…uh, interesting attempt at this assignment.” Deep down, a little part of you really wants to say much meaner things, but you bite back your words, knowing that showing contempt never did anyone any good.

“Interesting, eh?” Hook’s smirk grows, and you can see him already scheming inside that villainous little mind of his. “Say, Y/N”—he uncrosses his legs, leaning in your direction—“you’re the top student of this class, are you not?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but refrain from saying anything you know you’ll later regret. “Yes, and?”

“Well, as you can clearly see here, I require a bit of assistance with this assignment. After all, not everyone grew up waving wands like you,” he quips, flourishing the wand in his hand as if it were an ordinary stick. Abruptly, he stills his movements and drops the wand on his desk, before turning to face you directly, locking eyes. “Would you be so kind as to teach me a few things?”

You quirk your brows, albeit attempting to keep a straight face. “Are you asking me to…tutor you?”

Hook grins yet again. “This evening, 7 o’clock, the common area in the East Wing.” He puts his hand on his knees as he gets up, now leering a few inches above you. Still holding your gaze—although he has to tilt his head down to do so—he asks, “I’ll see you then?”

You blink twice, mind replaying the events that led to you getting yourself stuck in this situation. On the one hand, you definitely don't want to have a one-on-one study session with a villain—and an annoyingly smug one at that. Honestly, the few interactions you are forced to have with him in class are far enough for you. 

But on the other hand, he is asking for help to improve his grades…after all, it’s not every day someone the likes of him shows interest in learning. Plus, you know that it’s not right to turn away a person in need of your help, no matter how insufferable they are. Especially if they’re always flashing you a smile filled with shining white teeth and full, plump pink lips.

A sigh escapes your mouth before you can stop it as you resign yourself to your fate. “Alright, I guess. But come prepared to learn. That means you need your wand, your textbooks, notebo—”

He cuts you off with a passive sweep of his hook, much to your annoyance. Leaning in just a little closer to you, enough to make your palms slightly sweaty, his face tilts down even nearer to yours. “It’s a date, then,” Hook says, his voice soft but still with that teasing tone it always seems to carry.

“It’s not a date!” you call out as the bell rings, but he’s already making his way out of the classroom, sauntering off to do who-knows-what.

Heavens, what have I gotten myself into, you think, placing a hand on your forehead as you breathe out a long, heavy sigh.

The evening rolls around far too quickly for your liking, and before you know it you’re making your way out of your doom room and up a set of stairs.

You keep on thinking about how you had ample time to back out of this arrangement; plus, you would be lying if you said you didn't consider it a number of times. But each time, you remind yourself that you are doing a good deed for someone obviously in need of a good influence. That you have to be selfless and put aside your personal feelings to serve a good cause, as all heroes do. That your opinions don't really matter—after all, the best heroes are the ones who make the deepest sacrifices, right?

So that’s how you find yourself dragging heavy feet across a corridor, a tiny voice in your head begging you to turn around, as you finally reach the common area set as your meetup spot. You glance at your wristwatch, which reads 6:55. You had decided to leave a bit early so you could arrive with a few minutes to spare. As your mother always reminds you, “It’s better to be an hour early than a minute late.”

Pulling out a chair at a nearby two-person table, you sit down, plopping your bookbag next to you. You had stuffed it full of your personal notes, your wand, and several textbooks you thought could help Hook. 

Tapping a pencil on the wooden desk, you sigh, glancing at your clock again. 6:57. Thinking back on your previous decision, you wonder why you left so early. After all, you have Hook down in your mind as the type to be extremely unpunctual. Leaning back in your chair out of sheer boredom, you start to clearly picture Hook showing up a good hour late. Heck, you’d be surprised if he even shows up at all. 

The clock hits 6:59, and you begin to debate how long you’re willing to stay here before giving up and returning to your dorm. Would ten minutes be enough? Fifteen? Thirty? The more you think about it, the more you can imagine this being some sort of elaborate prank to trick you. After all, why would a delinquent villain like Hook ever be interested in planning a tutoring session?

You sigh once again, angry at yourself for being so naive as to fall for his little trick. Drumming your fingers on the table as you put your head down, you mentally punch yourself for your gullibility. 

Which is why you nearly jump out of your own skin at the sound of a loud thud sound from in front of you. You jerk back into your chair, arms flailing as it tips, causing you to nearly topple backwards. With your reflexes kicking in, your hand latches onto the edge of the table—thankfully—and you manage to pull yourself back to a more stable position.

Hand clutching your pounding heart, you roll your head back to be greeted with that stupid little smirk that haunts your thoughts. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright, love. After all, we were planning to meet up, were we not?” Hook says, tone extremely smug and a tiny bit pitiful at your frightened state. 

You raise your arm and flick your wrist, reading the time displayed on your clock. 7:00. He…he showed up exactly on time, you think, praying that your shock isn’t displayed on your face.

As if he can read your mind—and in all honesty, maybe he can—Hook says, “You didn’t doubt me, now, did you, darling? How could I skimp out on our little date?”

“It’s not a date,” you tell him once again, not even trying to hide the annoyance in your voice this time.

“Whatever you say.” Hook gives a little grin as he raises his eyebrows for a second. Before you can continue to argue, he pulls out the chair across from you and sits down. You eye a small black leather satchel that dangles from his hook as he drops it down on the floor. Huh, he even came prepared.

He leans in, arms resting on the table, as he fixes you with a sly grin. “So, Miss Teacher, what are you going to teach me today?”

You hate to pass on the opportunity to make a snarky remark, but you know that rubbing Hook the wrong way is not going to make these next few hours any less sufferable. Instead, you simply go for a “How about you start by getting out your materials?”

“As you wish, m’lady.” An irritated sigh escapes your lips, and you realize you’ve been sighing a lot more than usual ever since you got in this…predicament. You watch, somewhat impatiently, as Hook reaches down and draws a single notebook and his practice wand out of the leather satchel. Glancing at his materials, then back at yours, you realize that you came a lot more prepared than he did, even though you’re not the one trying to learn here. Well, I guess him putting in some effort still better than nothing.

You pull out one of the thick textbooks from your bag, the used animal skin cover peeling at the edges and the pages yellowed from the wear of time. 

“First, we’re going to get started with the theory of enchantments and spells.” You flip through the pages until you land on the first of many detailing the basics of spellcasting. “Even though we’re going to be focusing on the Aiming Spell, the underlying principles are pretty much the same for all spells you use. Now, you see here, highlighted in the chart are the five main…”

You chance a glance over at Hook, voice trailing off when you realize he isn’t listening. In fact, he's not even looking at the textbook placed in the middle of the desk. Instead, his gaze is fixed on…

…you?

“Hey! Why are you staring at me like that, you weirdo!” you exclaim, pulling back from the table. Hook remains unflinching, his chin in his good hand as he stares up at you with a sparkle in his eye. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, love. You’re just so…so entrancing.”

You blink hard, recoiling at his words. He’s not flirting with you…is he? No, there’s no way. Don’t be overly arrogant, you convince yourself. This is just his personality, how he usually acts. The same way he calls everyone “love” and “darling.” There’s absolutely nothing more to it than him saying anything he can think of to fluster you and throw you off track.

…Right?

You ignore the stupid little flutter your heart does at not just being called pretty, or beautiful, or any of the normal compliments. No, you aren’t normal, you’re entrancing…

Snap out of it! you internally scold yourself. This is just another one of his little antics. You’re just letting him win by getting in your head. 

“Look, I didn’t come here and set aside this chunk of my valuable time to tutor you, only for you to not listen. If you came here to mess around—” you rant, but you’re cut off before you can get everything off your chest.

“I apologize, lassie. I promise, I’ll focus from here on out,” Hook vows. You eye him with a glare, feeling very distrustful, but you’re only met with his rather sincere gaze.

You let out another breath, once again regretting agreeing to this. “Fine. Get out your notebook. You’re going to want to take notes on this.”

Hook nods and reaches into his satchel, which is still lying on the floor. “If I’m being completely honest—which I assume you must hold in high regard, being a hero and whatnot—I really didn’t expect you to be so…irritable.”

You shoot Hook another glare, before realizing that you’re just proving his point. You give a brief roll of your eyes as you attempt a smile. “I’m not usually like this,” you say, fighting to keep a decently pleasant expression on your face. “You just really find a way to, how should I put this, you really—”

“Push your buttons?” Hook finishes for you, raising his eyebrows.

“I was going to say you really find a way to get on my nerves, but that too,” you respond, with obviously forced cheerfulness. “Whatever, we need to get back to studying. For real this time.”

Hook replies with an “Of course, m’lady,” before you begin your lecture again on the foundation of enchantments. This time, he makes sure to periodically glance down at the textbook pages and occasionally nod or ask a question, all to ensure that you don’t catch him staring at you again. Unbeknownst to you, adoration shines bright in his eyes as he studies your features, committing them to memory every time you’re not looking his way.

You spend some time going over theory with Hook, until you can feel him growing restless, causing you to start wondering if people like him have a capacity for how much information they can absorb at one time. Deciding that theory is no good if it’s not put to practice, you slam the textbook shut once you reach the end of a page, standing up.

Hook looks up at you, a slightly startled expression on his face. “Come on,” you say. “Now we’re going to see how much you paid attention by putting your lesson to good use.”

You hope to see a look of fear flash across his face, but his demeanor stays completely even. Feeling a bit let down, you remind yourself that he still has to actually cast the spell. Watch him mess it up, you think. Let’s see how smug he is then, huh?

Reaching down into your bookbag, you pull out a small bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth. You open it to reveal a handful of metal disks, similar to the ones you had used earlier in class. You empty them out on the table before walking over to the middle of the room and placing the cloth down on the floor, a good number of meters away from your table. “This is your target area,” you explain. “Stand by the table and get those rings to land within the borders of the cloth.”

Let’s see how well you fare now, pretty boy.

“Aye, that’s not fair,” Hook says, scrunching his brow as he gestures towards your setup with his hook. “That cloth’s much smaller than the basket we used in class. And the distance is far greater.”

“Well, if you learn how to get the spell right with tougher constraints than the requirement, you’ll be sure to do great for the real thing.” You flash him a wink as you watch his jaw part slightly, an incredulous expression painted on his face. “That’s how I always ace my exams.”

Hook draws in a breath, putting his ever-famous smirk back on his face, although you can feel his unease this time. He picks up his wand, turning around to point it at disks on the table. 

Up. He rolls his hand upwards, and one of the disks starts to levitate a foot in the air.

Swish. Hook jerks his wrist to the side, causing the disk to start gently vibrating with potential energy. 

Circle. He rotates his hand counterclockwise, drawing a circle with the tip of the wand.

Flick. You watch with bated breath as Hook flicks the wand towards the cloth in the middle of the room. 

Both of you follow the disc’s arc through the air with tense anticipation, as it soars, soars…

…and ends up missing the cloth by a good three feet.

Hook gives a small, halfhearted laugh, trying to keep up the suave facade. Yet you notice the way his shoulders slump forward, the way his body stiffens in an embarrassing shock. 

Part of you feels a wickedly twisted satisfaction at his failure—but as soon as you recognize it for what it is, you shove it away, repulsed at the thought of you even coming close experiencing such an emotion. Plus, the majority of you feels rather disappointed at the undesirable outcome. Whether it’s Hook’s chagrin rubbing off on you, or the voice in your head whispering that you, as his teacher, failed at your job, you can’t help but feel a bit let down at his messing up.

“Hey, it’s fine. Let’s try again,” you say softly, your usual eager-to-help manner coming back at the sight of someone needing comforting.

And so, Hook tries again. And again. And again.

Finally, after the seventh or eighth try, he puts the wand back down on the table. “I don’t know what to tell you, love. No matter how hard I try, it’s simply not working.” You sigh, looking at the floor before you, which was now littered with disks. “Hey, at least you got closer each time! That’s still progress.” You attempt to raise his spirits a bit, but he just fixes you with a look that tells you he’s not one to fall for your false positivity.

“Uhm…” You hesitate, not quite sure what to do next or how to fix this. “How about you see how I do it, and try to copy that?”

Hook gives a small nod and you fish out your wand, pulling up your sleeves and taking a deep breath to prepare. Focusing on one of the disks on the table, you start the particular movements. Up. Swish. Circle. Flick!

Both of you watch in somewhat astonishment as the ring curves perfectly through the air, flying with grace, as it lands directly in the center of the cloth.

Hook looks at you with raised eyebrows. Although that little part of you wants to rub it in his face, the fact that a hero, out of all people, bested him, you decide that torturing him with your teasing is only going to make him less likely to get the spell right.

“You see that? Now, try to copy it yourself,” you instruct.

And so, Hook makes a few more attempts, landing closer to the cloth each time, now only a couple inches away—yet never actually making contact with it.

You study his movements carefully as he casts the spell, trying to figure out what he’s doing wrong. After a few more of his failed attempts, you decide to try a different approach.

“Okay, watch me do it again, but this time come hold my wand from behind so you can get a feel for how I cast it,” you say, glancing up at Hook. “After all, it’s all in the wrist.” You recite a line your mother always says, one that often replays in your mind as you cast a spell. In your opinion, her guidance is the main reason that you’re so good at spells.

You’re still sitting down in your chair, pushing it in a little to provide room for him to come up behind you and reach your wand. 

You were expecting Hook to get rather close; after all, there aren’t many ways for two people to hold the same wand in the position you were in without a tight proximity. What you weren’t expecting was the way he comes up from behind you leisurely, deliberately. The way his chest presses into your back as he leans in, arm brushing against yours as he extends it towards the wand. The way you can feel his exhales on your skin, breathing down your neck—literally—causes goosebumps to rise up and down your arms. The way his natural aroma engulfs you completely, overwhelming your senses all at once. How his large hand feels on yours as he places it on top, curling his fingers around the wand—and yours, as well. The way you can feel the smirk dancing on his face, looking down at you with what you expect to be half-lidded eyes. 

And the way your heart races, good heavens. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought you just ran a marathon. Your body simultaneously heats up and freezes at his touches, no matter how small, your mind becoming overly aware of every point of contact you have with him. You fight against the overstimulation flooding your senses, resisting the urge to wipe your sweaty palms on your legs, while hoping that the wand doesn’t slip out of your hand as perform the incantation. 

Truth be told, although you definitely won’t admit this to anyone: you really haven’t had much experience with romance, or anything of the sorts. All your life, you’ve focused on doing good deeds and keeping up with your studies, aiming to be the best of the best in the hero world. Which is probably why no boy has ever taken interest in you; instead of going to dances or out on dates, you've always spent your Friday nights locked away in your room, studying hard to make sure you ace your exams. Plus, with your goody-two-shoes streak, you aren't exactly the most sought-out person in your class.

Which is why with the way Hook flirts with you, and now, the way you can feel his inhales and exhales against your skin—subconsciously trying to match the rhythm of his breathing—your brain is short-circuiting. The lack of romantic attention you’ve received your whole life is behind why you don't know how to react to Hook's antics, while still internally freaking out at his movements and words.

You inhale a shaky breath, trying to steady your quivering hand and hope that Hook doesn’t notice your reaction. But after the amused little hum he gives, your embarrassment grows by the second. Trying your best to focus on the task at hand, you say, “Okay, here goes.”

Up. You feel Hook’s grip tighten around your hand, just a little bit but still enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Swish. The disk vibrates with extreme intensity, to the point where you’re afraid it’ll break apart, despite the metal structure.

Circle. As you circle your wrist around, you feel Hook’s arm rub against yours even more, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Gods, the things this man is doing to you.

Flick. You flick the wand towards the cloth yet again, jerking your head sideways to follow it as it flies across the room. Agonizing in how it ignites every nerve in your body, you feel Hook’s head brush against the top of yours as he follows your movements, watching the disk soar.

It seems, for a minute, as if it’s going to land right on top of the previous one. But to both your shocks, it falls just outside the borders of the cloth, barely touching the edge.

Your face absolutely burns in embarrassment, palms dripping with sweat now. Hook tilts his head towards yours—which you feel all too well—as he says, far closer to your ear than you would’ve liked, “Well, it seems like even the master makes mistakes, love.”

Fuming, you finally give into the urge and drop the wand to wipe your hands on your clothes. Screw him, you mentally curse. It’s all his fault. I’ve never messed up this spell before.

And as much as you want to blame him, you know that it’ll do you absolutely no good to tell him the fact that he was so close to you made your brain short-circuit to such an extent that you messed up a spell you could do since you were five.

You shake your head, refusing to accept your failure. “No, I…I don’t know what happened. It must have been a faulty disk. Just…I’m going to try again.”

Hook raises his eyebrows at you—or at least, you’re pretty sure he does, as you can’t see him from behind. You grab your wand again, and without even telling him to do so, Hook leans in and places his hand back over yours, your fingers trapped between his and the wand.

Internally, you find yourself growing impossibly more annoyed at him. Honestly, did he really have to go back to that position, the one that made you mess up the spell in the first place? You take a deep, steadying breath, forcing away all thoughts of Hook and how his dark brown eyes, beautiful and rich like the bark of the trees back in Oz, are boring into your skull right now. You simply can’t afford to get distracted again. Messing up the spell once is one thing—sure, everyone makes mistakes, don’t they? But twice? It would be absolutely inexcusable.

Twice would mean that you are not as adept as you thought you were, not talented enough in the one thing that you've been sure of for your whole life.

Remember the words.

Up, swish, circle, flick!

Fueled by your self-directed rage, you ensure that every movement you make is precise, sharp, and without a single tremor going through your hand. This time, the disk slices through the air with a clean, aerodynamic curve, and lands…

…right on top of your first one.

You beam, regaining your former confidence in your spellcasting abilities.

“The master may sometimes make mistakes, but they’re still the master,” you gloat. “Now come on, you need to practice till you get as good as that.”

You and Hook spend quite some time on practicing the spell, with you giving him pointers and him—surprisingly—improving. It seems as though your hands-on demonstration really helped him, as his skills greatly improved. 

Soon, in every set of ten rings he practiced on, he was consistently getting six or seven of them within the boundaries of the cloth, with one or two more landing on the edge, half-in. 

After one round where he managed to get nine of the disks touching the cloth—his personal best so far—you decide he needs something even more challenging.

“Woah, that was a really good round,” you praise. Hook turns to face you, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that his normal smirk seems a little less snarky and a little more…genuine. 

“Still not as good as you, though, love,” Hook replies. You can tell he’s trying hard to maintain his nonchalant front, especially when it comes to academics, but the pride in his eyes and the earnest grip on his wand tell a different story. Honestly, you like him better this way. Less of him pretending to be a bad boy villain, and more of his real personality.

And in this moment, as you subtly study his features and think about his change in behavior over the past few hours, a thought that’s never even come close to crossing your mind suddenly pops up. What if villains, just like heroes, feel pressured to uphold a certain facade? The same way that you’ve always felt like you just have to be good, no matter the cost, no matter how hard it is for you, maybe villains feel the same way. Maybe they believe they always have to be bad, troublesome, and cruel. Even if that’s not who they truly are.

And through the lens of your new insight, you start seeing Hook in a different light. Just like how you feel as if being good and helpful and cheery all the time is a burden, how sometimes you wish you could just let loose and be selfish, maybe villains feel like being evil is a burden. Maybe Hook feels compelled to act smug and suave, even though that isn’t who he truly feels like being all the time. 

You begin to feel a deep sense of guilt for judging him based on his demeanor and criticizing his performance in class. Reflecting back, you realize that you had been unnecessarily harsh on him for something that is likely beyond his control. Gosh, I'm such an idiot, you think, shame burning your cheeks.

Shaking off your remorse, you put on another bright smile and try to respond as cheerfully as possible. “Hey, it’s still a huge improvement from sending the rings flying on top of a filing cabinet in the corner of the room. Or at innocent bystanders’ heads!” This time, you don’t encourage him because you feel pressured to do so, or because that’s who you know you’re supposed to be. You do it because deep down, in your heart, it’s what you feel like saying.

“Hmm, true,” Hook replies, angling his head to the side as he considers your point, the smallest of smiles still dancing on his lips.

“Now, for your final test.” At your statement, Hook raises a brow. “You need something different, something truly challenging. Something to prove your mastery of the Aiming Spell…”

You rack your brain for ideas, but nothing comes to mind. After a moment in silence, Hook speaks up. “I may have an idea.”

Glancing over at him, rather surprised—you were the teacher, after all—you gesture for him to go on. 

“Go stand over there by that wall,” he instructs, motioning with his hook to the wall opposite you two. “And put your hands up.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, fixing him with a look of wariness and doubt. You don’t move for a second, still too distrusting of him as you try to imagine what standing in that position has to do with casting a spell. Noticing your hesitation, Hook nods towards the wall again. “Well, go on, love.”

Still suspicious of him, you cave in and walk over to the far side of the room. Pressing your back against the wall as you raise your hands up, the position makes you feel as if you've just been caught red-handed in the midst of a crime. Hook still stands by the table, waiting patiently. You try to think back to the textbook pages you went over with him, wondering if you had accidentally taught him some sort of attack charm that he was planning to use on you.

Feeling your anxiety build, you wriggle your left fingers, wrapping your thumb and middle finger around the base of your pointer. You always wear a special, very pretty ring on that hand, a gift your mother gave to you a few years ago. Fiddling with it while twisting it around and around helps to soothe you, especially when you feel nervous.

But this time, when you go to repeat the same movement you always do, you feel the absence of the familiar metal surface and engravings etched into it. Glancing up at your hand, you confirm that your ring is indeed missing. The only trace of its former presence is the two parallel, circular indents in your skin from wearing it for so long.

Your panic skyrockets now at the loss of one of your favorite possessions, practically forgetting about Hook and the unease that accompanied his bizarre request. That ring had come with a special message; the night you got it, your mother had told you, “Remember when you were younger, and I told you that people are either good or bad? Well, that’s not quite true. No one is really black or white. We’re all just shades of gray. Some people are lighter gray, and some people are darker gray. And although we might be different shades, we all fall under the same color. Remember that, Y/N.”

And you have remembered it. Every time you go to toy with your ring, those words echo in your mind. Your mom had embedded the ring with a marble featuring a swirl of many different shades of gray, a reminder of the message that came along with it. You were too young to truly understand her words back then, but now, especially in these recent moments, you think you’re starting to fully grasp what she meant.

Snapping back to the present, you realize the serious problem you have at hand. “My ring!” you cry. “I could have sworn I had it when I came here…”

“Looking for this?” Hook’s smirk is back in full force. His left arm is raised, and on the crest of his polished metal hook, your precious ring glimmers under the golden lights projected from the ceiling.

“You…! When did you even…” your voice trails off as your mind catches up to your mouth. It must have been when he leaned in, while you were demonstrating the spell. That was the only time he had gotten close enough to you, although you don’t know how in the world he nicked it off your finger without you having the slightest hint.

Then you remember, quite painfully, how flustered you had been in that moment. If you were so distracted that you couldn't even cast a simple spell right, then you certainly wouldn’t have had enough brainpower to notice a skilled thief steal from you.

“Hey! Give that back!” you exclaim, huffing angrily, a frown etched deep into your face.

“I will, darling,” Hook replies smugly. “Now, raise your hands up again. And don’t wiggle your fingers around this time.”

“Give me my ring back first!” you demand, your previous annoyance towards him coming right back.

“Let me do this first, and then you’ll get your ring. Hands up.” At your glare, Hook tilts his head to the side and gives you a look. “Don’t you trust me?”

Well, of course not, is the first thought that pops into your mind. You’re a liar and a thief, and above all, a villain.

But then you remember your mother’s words, your earlier revelation and how, just for a moment, you glimpsed Hook through a different light. So, although you definitely won't go as far as saying that you trust him, you still empathize with him enough to give in to his request.

Wordlessly, you raise your hands back up to your sides, palms facing in front of you, while fighting the urge to fidget again. You debate whether or not it’d be best to close your eyes for this, but you ultimately decide that if Hook does try to pull any more of his little tricks, all your senses should be sharp and aware.

And so you stand, frozen, as Hook raises the wand. For a second, you think he’s going to cast the spell on you. But instead, he uses his good hand to remove the ring from where it’s stuck in his hook, instead placing it dangling from the tip. He points his wand at the ring, repeating the maneuvers you two practiced so many times.

Up. The ring lifts off his hook and levitates just in front of him.

Swish. It starts vibrating like the disks, but due to its small size, your cherished ring begins to rotate on its axis.

Circle. With Hook’s circular movement of the wand, the ring’s spinning accelerates, locking on to its target—whatever that is.

Flick. For one final time, Hook flicks his wrist, this time towards you.

You watch, your heart pounding as fast as ever, as the ring—your ring—curves through the sky as it falls, getting closer and closer to you. You slam your eyes shut for just a beat, unable to bear the anticipation, before remembering your earlier rationale again.

Eyes flying open instantly, you regain your vision just as the ring falls, falls, falls, landing…

…directly on your finger.

But not the finger that you previously wore it on. Your eyes widen again in disbelief as it slips perfectly around your ring finger.

“Uh…I…uhm…” you stammer, confused and shocked and overwhelmed with far too many things at once to form a coherent sentence. How in the world did he cast such a precise Aiming Spell, in a situation where it wouldn’t have succeeded had he been even a centimeter off? And if he was so precise with his location pinpointing, then why in the world did he put it on your left ring finger??

“Come on, spit it out, love,” Hook replies teasingly. “You can say it, don’t be afraid.”

Your mind is working far too hard for you to shoot him a glare, but you mentally do it anyway. “That was…impressive,” you finally admit, although you wish you didn’t when Hook’s smug grin grows twice as wide. Ugh, his ego is already big enough. I did not need to inflate it like that.

“Could you always cast the spell that well?” you ask, still stunned at his precision. You honestly couldn’t see how anyone who had been sending disks flying all across the room a mere few hours ago was now casting spells with the accuracy of someone who had been doing this for years.

“Why, of course not. You saw how I was earlier.” Hook’s grin grows even wider as he adds, “It’s all because I had a wonderful teacher.”

You still frown at him skeptically, walking back towards the table where he stands. “I highly doubt it’s because of that. I mean, I don’t know if even I could pull something like that off with such little practice.”

At this, Hook gives a little laugh. “What do they say, the student exceeds the teacher?”

You roll your eyes at him. “No, they call it ‘beginner’s luck.’ You should be happy you got it right this time, because you might not get so lucky on your exams.”

Hook grins again, and as much as you detest the pleasure he gets from teasing you—and though you’d never admit it—a small, dark gray part of you enjoys the playful banter between you two.

“That’s why I have you, darling. If I ever need more help, I’ll know who to run to.” He leans in close to you, so close, until his mouth is right next to your ear. You start having flashbacks to your previous experiences with Hook being in a close proximity, and the combined feelings from both your memories and his current actions causes your body to heat up in a way you didn’t even know was possible. 

He tilts his head down ever so slightly towards you, his lips feathering across your ear. “And you won’t be able to get out of helping me, my little goody-goody.”

Your mind is absolutely spinning at his words, his touch, his presence, his everything. You desperately struggle to formulate some sort of response, but just as you open your mouth, ready to question his choice of ring placement, a deep, low horn sounds, reverberating off the walls.

Curfew.

Hook breaks away from you as you glance down at your wristwatch. The clock shows exactly 10:00. Gods, how did the time pass by so quickly?

You glance back up at Hook, deciding to ignore the way he so alluringly whispered in your ear just seconds ago. “Well, uh, we have to get going, then,” you awkwardly say, scratching at your neck.

Hook stands there for a moment, staring at you whilst completely motionless, making you wonder what he’s thinking and what he’s planning to do. Just as you’re about to bid him a goodnight and turn away, he reaches his good hand out, grabbing your left one. He holds it delicately in his hand, his palm cupped upwards with your fingers resting gently on top.

Slowly, and while keeping his head up just enough to maintain eye contact with you the entire way down, he bends into a bow in front of you. Only does he avert his gaze when he finally reaches your hand, looking down at your ring, which still sits on your ring finger, as he places a kiss on the bright stone.

He peers back up at you, deep brown eyes wide and expressive.

“Until we meet again, m’lady.”

on to part 2! ->

taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0

just leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: the demons I had to fight to not name this "if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it" haha. anyways thanks for reading!

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

[lou-struck]

Made With Love Part 2

OM Brothers & Datables x reader pt.2 

Featuring Special parts with Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan.

MASTERLIST

Part 1 Here

~ As the Room erupts in chaotic, love-drunk chatter. Luke tries desperately to figure out what is going on, meanwhile you finally show up to the party late and confused.

WC: 6.7k

Warnings: Love Potion based personality changes, obsessive behaviors, feelings of self doubt, possible accidental drowning attempt, mention of suggestive behavior, lots of teasing, kissing, touching, etc. 

a/n: Wow! This is turning into a much longer project than I thought It was going to be. I love how this is developing and I hope you guys are interested too. If you would like to be tagged in the next chapters comment below!

"Look at this one Satan." Lucifer giggles happily, kicking his feet on the sofa. The screen of his DDD is illuminated with a picture of you as the Avatar of Pride leans up against his younger brother and brings the image closer to his blush-covered cheeks. 

Satan's eyes are as large as saucers as he takes in the picture. "This is the bestest picture ever." he gasps in entranced delight, not a single thought in his head other than you. 

"That's what ya said about the last twenty pictures." Mammon laughs from the other side of him. "But I get it. Mc is soooo amazing. I could look at their cute face all day long."

Luke watches as the three brothers swipe to the next picture in Lucifer's album and sigh lovingly. 

Asmodeus shyly creeps up behind his brothers, his eyes brimming with curiosity. Strange spell or not, cute photos of you have always been his kryptonite. Mammon notices his presence and gives his brother a smile. "Cmmere Asmo, don't be shy; there's more than enough pictures of Mc to go around."

How generous…

But when the Avatar of Lust gets closer to take an eager glimpse at the picture, he gasps and takes a flustered step back. His face turns beet red, and smoke looks like it's about to come out from his ears when he sees the (fairly tame) photo of swimsuit-clad you.

"T-that is so inappropriate." he cries, covering his eyes and running away with an off-balanced stumble as if he was the one who took you shopping for the suit, sat back and watched you try on outfit after outfit, and insisted on rubbing sunscreen all over you once you made it to the beach. 

Asmo runs away from his other brothers. But they don't seem to notice. They just continue gushing about how cute you are.

 Aside from those troublemakers, Luke scans the room to see how everyone else is acting under the effects of the spell or whatever it was that found its way into the sugar cookies.

From a lonely window-side chair, Beel looks out the window like he is a little puppy. His face, a deep pout as he waits for your arrival. He looks too distressed to even look at the overflowing table of food.

Belphie is energetically pacing about the room, too excited to see you to even think about being tired. 

Speaking of tired, Barbatos sluggishly leans against the door mumbling to himself about how opening the handle is just too much work for him right now. 

Levi and Simeon begin arguing loudly in the center of the room. They are standing chest to chest, staring each other down with dark, possessive expressions.

"Don't get me wrong, Simeon, I may have admired your work in the past, but now the only fandom I want to be a part of is Mc's." Levi's hand comes to rest on the Angel's shoulder in a condescending manner. 

There is a darkness to Simeon that is quite unnerving as he removes Levi's hand. His face is a cruel mask of disgust. "Why would anyone want to spend time with someone like you?" Instead of flinching or looking away in shame, Levi stares the Angel down as if daring him to say more, which Simeon obliges. "Especially Mc. How about you be a good little demon and leave us be?"

"Don't make me laugh you freaking Normie. Why would Mc want to spend time with you?"

Luke pales as Diavolo steps up to join the argument. 

"No one will be spending time with Mc today," he says in an authoritarian tone. "The poor thing will be exhausted when they arrive, so I personally will be tending to them."

Both the Angel and the Avatar of Envy grow quiet, glancing between one another and the Prince before boisterously laughing in his face. 

"What's so funny?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. The Hearts in his pupils looking remarkably out of place on his regal features. "Do you not think me capable of caring for Mc?"

"Ahh yes, the Prince born with a silver spoon in his mouth is the most qualified to care for a human." The sarcasm in Simeon's voice chills the room as everyone's conversations come to a halt.  

The Demon's nostrils flare, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Believe me, Simeon, I am more than capable of caring for them."

"Shall we prove it?" Simeon coo's, his voice laced with condescension. "How about each of us go our separate ways to spend time with Mc. Once they have had their share of each of us, we can ask them who they enjoyed their time with the most today."

"It's obviously going to be me." Levi declares as the others gather around. 

"Why can't we jus’ share em?" Mammon wonders aloud. "Mc is so amazing they can spend time with all of us."

Luke spots Asmo taking a worried step backward. "A-alone? W-with Mc?" he stutters. "I- don't know if I am ready for that. I gotta go and get ready." 

"Hey, he's getting a head start on us. I won't lose." Belpheghor calls as he rushes from the room after his brother.

It's a madhouse as the rest of them push past each other to claim their spot for a date with you. But as Solomon tries to creep off, he is stopped by the little Angel who grabs his cape. "Not you, Solomon. If you know what is going on with everyone, you have to tell me," he says exasperatedly. 

"Oh, Mc is going to hate meeee." Solomon cries as the others disappear behind the doors. 

Luke shudders as he uncomfortably feels how clammy the human's skin is. Judging by the deep blush on his cheeks and how clumsily he stumbles behind the little Angel, he is clearly under the same spell as the rest of them. 

"Solomon, what is going on?" He questions the teary-eyed Sorcerer in the most authoritative tone he can manage. He even tries to invoke the same confident, commanding tone that Lucifer uses to control the room by crossing his arms and trying his best to look displeased.

But in all reality, he just looks confused. And that pout only makes him look constipated as Solomon keeps rambling on and on about how you will never love him because he ruined yet another Valentine's Day for you. He is so fixated on you, it's like Luke is not even there.

Luke takes a deep breath in and clenches his little fists into tight balls of tension. He knows he needs to relax so he can fix the problem in front of him and save the day.

Save your day…

"Solomon!" he yells, tugging the Sorcerer's dark blue cape for attention. "Why is everyone acting so strange? They are more obsessed with Mc than usual and are acting differently."

 Solomon's heart-shaped pupils dilate as if hearing someone say your name is a drug to him. But he is coherent enough to answer Luke's question. "D-did you use one of the bowls in my lab?" he asks softly; he nervously fiddles with his fingers, never actually looking Luke in the eye. 

"Yeah, I saw my light blue one on the counter, and it looked clean, so I used it."

Solomon's eyes go wide in alarm as they flicker to the doors of the banquet hall. "The Potion," he breathes, stepping back against the wall and sliding it down in embarrassment. Luke flinches briefly, that impact sounded painful but Solomon doesn't seem to notice it at all. He tucks his knees to his chest in an almost childlike fashion. 

If he hadn't seen him eat the cookies, Luke would not believe that the trembling, flustered man in front of him is the infamous Human Sorcerer Solomon the Wise. "I-I did it again…" his voice comes out muffled from his arms. "I ruined Valentine's Day."

Despair courses through Luke's veins like glacier water. "What do you mean? What Potion?"

Solomon gulps and looks up from his spot on the ground. 

"A few weeks ago, I was out at a used book store with Satan and Mc…." The mere mention of your name is enough for the Sorcerer's blush to intensify, and he begins to lose focus. 

"Hey, Keep going…" Luke encourages urgently. "What did you find at the bookstore?"

Solomon blinks down at Luke as if he had just noticed his presence. "Oh yes, the bookstore. I just went the other day with Satan and…"

"WHAT DID YOU BUY?" he interrupts before the Sorcerer can say your name and get lost in the effects of whatever was in that frosting.

"It was an old recipe guide for making love potions." He answers. "One of the recipes in particular stuck out to me. When consumed, it amplifies feelings of affection for the person they love most along with a few interesting side effects."

A deep shudder runs down Luke's spine. He accidentally gave all his friends a love potion. He looks at Solomon's ruddy cheeks and hazy eyes. Are these some of the side effects. If he is going to learn anything else about the potion, he better ask his last question before the human runs off to prepare his own alone time with you.

"What kind of side effects?

~

A dry, cold wind slices across your face as you run towards the castle gates. Luke's DDD lies securely in your hand as you try to think of the best way to word your apology for being late to the party. 

You are already wondering how Lucifer will scold you for your tardiness. Just imagining that handsome smirk on his prideful lips makes you feel a mixture of both anticipation and annoyance swishing around your gut.

But all in all, you are ecstatic. You get to spend the day with all of your favorite people, eating sweets, playing games, and enjoying what Valentine's Day has to offer.

There's a spring in your step as you make it to the first of the stone stairs of the palace. But before you can move any further, you watch as Luke runs from the Castle towards you.

"Wait, don't go in there." He says frantically, waving his arms 

"Why?" you ask. "don't tell me I missed the party already."

The color drains from the Angel's face, somethings wrong. "it's not… I'm so sorry Mc. I ruined everything."

Your reassuring smile is quick as you place a hand on the Angel's shoulder to calm him down. "Whatever it is you think you did, I'm sure it's not that bad. Luke, do you want to tell me what happened?"

He looks at you and takes a deep breath. "When I was making the cookies, I used a bowl from Solomon's lab that contained some kind of love potion. Right when I set the tray down at the party, it was like everyone was drawn to them. They ate them, and now they just won't stop talking about you, and they're acting strange."

You blink in surprise; out of all the things to come out of Luke's mouth, you were not expecting this. But honestly, after living in the Devildom for a little bit you have developed a wonderful attitude for dealing with these unexpected situations.

"Strange how?" You ask curiosity and worry evident in your voice.

"They are acting completely different. It's like their love for you has changed their personalities. Lucifer is all giggly, Barbatos is super tired, and Simeon… Well, let's just say he's not being that nice."

"Oh dear," you breathe. Luke was just starting to get used to things down here. This love potion fiasco must really be traumatizing the poor guy. "Is there a cure?"

"I-I think so." Luke furrows his brow. "I was trying to get some details from Solomon before he started acting love-drunk like the rest of them. And he said he got it from a book. Before I could ask him anything else, he ran off. Apparently, they all wanted to claim a spot in the Castle to spend some time with you."

You nod thoughtfully, the wheels in your head turning as you formulate a plan. With everyone scattered about the Castle, you will definitely have to check on each guy individually, but other than that, at least you know that they aren't going to be actively arguing with each other, "If we can find that book, I bet there is a page of antidotes we can make. You head back to Purgatory Hall and I'll go inside and make sure everyone stays where they are. If we play along with what they want right now, it will be easier."

He looks concerned, "are you sure you should go in there by yourself?" For all his worrying, you know he has a point; if everyone is acting unpredictable, you will have to be on your guard. They may still love you, but even on their best days, these guys can be a bit possessive. 

Reassuringly, you give the Angel your best smile and send him on his way. "There is nothing to worry about. You go find the book, and I'll make sure that everyone here is okay." 

He nods bravely, "I'll go right away. But if you need any help, call me; I want to make sure they don't try anything crazy."

He rushes off, and you take a deep breath. The moon casts a long shadow on your figure as you climb the steps. You hate to admit it, but you are actually more amused with this situation than worried. You know in your heart that this situation will be resolved.

Curiously, you wonder how the potion seems to be affecting each one of your loved ones.

Maybe all these themed chaotic events that have taken place in the Devildom have messed with your head a little bit, but nevertheless, you find yourself smiling to yourself.

This could be fun. 

Lucifer ~

The Castle has never felt more empty. The dark halls are eerily quiet, and the grand, empty chambers echo the sounds of your light footsteps in every direction. You recall Diavolo saying that since the Valentine's Day celebration was planned to be an intimate affair for you, he had sent the entirety of his staff home to enjoy the holiday with their loved ones. 

You thought that was really admirable, but now you wish that at least one of the little D's was around to help you find your way. There are easily a thousand rooms in this place, and you have 11 cursed individuals to find.

You pass the empty banquet room where the party should've been held; something about the full table of food unsettles you. If Beel isn't crouched over the charcuterie table, stuffing cubes of otherworldly cheese into his mouth like a chipmunk, this love potion thing may be pretty darn serious.

Throughout the quietness, a light sound reaches your ears. It may be horror movie logic, but you follow the sound down the hallway until you reach a stone room with a stained glass ceiling. In the center of the room lies a beautiful indoor fountain. The crystal clear water flows enchantingly into the carefully carved basin. The steady ambiance is soothing, it invites you closer so you may admire the mosaic of jewels embedded into the column.

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap around your waist. The warm embrace makes you jump and let out a yelp of fear as you try to wiggle yourself out. 

Just as you wind up your elbow to drive it into your attacker's ribcage, you hear a happy chuckle against your ear that makes you freeze your attack. "You're here cutie, I knew you would find me."

"Lucifer?" you breathe. "Is that you?"

"Yea~, I just missed you so much." gone is his usual serious tone. Now, his voice sounds giddy with excitement, and you feel at ease. Your shoulders slump as the Avatar of Pride nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. 

Although you are safe, his hold on you is like a vice. There is hardly any space between the two of you as you turn around to get a good look at him. When you two are chest to chest, he lifts his head. Beautiful strands of his dark hair fall in front of his eyes in a messy but not entirely unbecoming way. 

His cheeks are flushed a baby pink color as you take in his simple, lovestruck smile. It looks so unserious you want to burst out laughing. But the thing that really sticks out to you is the strange heart shape his pupils have taken. The black hearts against his deep crimson eyes is captivating to behold.

"You're so cute," he whispers loudly, even though it's just the two of you in the room together. You don't miss the way he seems to sway unsteadily in front of you in an almost tipsy manner. 

So this is what Luke meant by 'Love Drunk.'

"So are you." you smile; usually, this kind of compliment is not one that he would typically accept, but thanks to this sweet and very touchy disposition brought on by the love potion, he just giggles and holds you tighter. "How about we try and find some of the others so we can have our party?"

"No," he states abruptly; the look of hurt on his face tugs at your heartstrings, and you almost want to apologize to him. He looks down at you with glassy eyes that are brimming with tears. This unusual sight reminds you of your current mission. 

When he notices the worry on your face, the tears begin to cascade down his cheeks and become one with the fountain. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," he murmurs with a small voice. "I just love you so much. Why do you want to find the others? Stay with me. Please?"

Lucifer's lack of pride is astonishing. He clings to your arm as if you are about to turn into smoke and vanish into thin air. 

What if we held hands while we looked?" you offer the Demon. His eyes light up at the prospect, but you know you'll need to offer a bit more than that if you are going to be able to leave this room to look for the others. 

"We can hold hands in here," he whines toying with your fingers as if they are the most fascinating things in the world. He smoothes the pad of his thumb over the glossy coat of nail polish Asmodeus painted last night and looks at you with puppy dog eyes.

"What about a kiss then?" you ask

That love-drunk smile returns to light up his features once more at the prospect once more. "A kiss?"

"Yes," you say. "If we can leave this room to find the others, then you can have all the kisses you want."

The offer is tempting and you see the contemplation in his eyes. If he says yes, he'll get what his heart has been calling for, but then he won't get as much attention from you. He can hardly remember what the others are doing right now. All he can think of is you, you, you.

He nods excitedly. "Please, please kiss me Mc. I'll do whatever you want."

You smile victoriously as he cups your face. There is so much love in his gaze as he meets your eyes. "Beautiful," he whispers before leaning in close to you. 

Your eyes shut as his warm breath fans your face. Potion or no potion, he kisses you like he always does, heartfelt and tenderly. His lips are soft against yours as he steals away that pesky breath of yours.

You find your head in the clouds, not wanting to pull away from this for even a moment. 

But surprisingly, he pulls away first. Your eyes shoot open as you see him run a hand through his hair. His eyes blink tiredly as they look at you with round pupils.

"Mc? What just happened?" he asks, "I remember being at the party and then…" He pales and looks at you with concern.

"Apparently, there was a potion accidentally mixed into the sugar cookies," you say. "Are you feeling alright?"

He nods. "I'm fine now; I believe that when we kissed, the true affection we felt for each other was enough to break this enchantment." his cheeks flush, and he averts his eyes from yours, "It felt like I was dreaming; I apologize for my actions today, I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable at all."

You gently take his hand and offer up a smile, "So, you dream of me often?" your teasing brings a little smirk to his lips, and he knows there is nothing to forgive,

"Quite often, my dear." he gently kisses the crown of your head. "Although I wasn't acting like myself, I truly meant it when I said I never want to leave your side. I've prepared a special outing for us next week as a gift for you. I know we all agreed to spend today with you together, but I am still a Demon, and I must have my own time with you without distractions." 

"That sounds wonderful." you smile, hugging him tightly. You notice the sudden fatigue that clings to him, possibly a side effect of the potion. "How about you head back to the banquet hall and rest. Now that we know how to undo the spell, I can find the others, and we can get this party back on track.

He looks a bit disappointed but he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "I suppose that's for the best, My Dear." He leans in close and murmurs into the shell of your ear, "But if you ever tell anyone of the details regarding my behavior under the effect of this potion, I promise you it will not go unpunished."

Mammon~

With one down and ten to go, you search the Castle once more. Your footsteps sound much quieter as you walk along the luxurious carpet that lines the long hallway. The knowledge of how to undo the effects of the potion is soothing, but this unintentional little game of hide and seek is certainly not helping speed this whole thing along.

Another worrying possibility is that simply kissing everyone may not work. Is it possible that the spell on Lucifer was broken due to something else entirely?

Your worry clouds your judgment as you wander past the heavy double doors of the palace treasury. For the first time in all of your visits here, you notice a lack of guards outside the doors. The treasury is completely unprotected. If it were any other day, you just know you would find Mammon poking around, trying to break into the vault using some cheap-looking skeleton key he got on Akuzon.

If Lucifer's clingy behavior was any indication of what was yet to come, the crown jewels of the Devildom would be the last thing on the Avatar of Greed's mind at the moment.

You pass the vault and begin to meander your way past the wall of portraits. You remember Barbatos explaining to you a while back that the individuals in these portraits are crucial to the Devildom's history and are up here as a way of honoring them. 

You pass Ancient Kings and Queens of old, their names carefully embedded on golden placards, written in languages that no longer are spoken. Painted eyes seemingly track your every move. They only stop when you stop in your tracks. Near the end of the lowly lit hallway, you think you see someone sitting on the carpet. As you creep closer, you see that it is Mammon. He is staring up at the wall with complete fascination.

"Mammon?" you call gently. His head snaps in your direction as soon as the soft sound of your voice reaches his ears. His eyes widen when he sees you, and those big, heart-shaped pupils stare back at you.

"Mc, it's really you." he smiles, getting slowly to his feet. His lack of coordination is evident as he walks over to you with small, shy steps. "I knew ya wouldn't forget about me."

"I could never forget about you, Mammon." Your smile lights up the dark hallway and beckons him closer. You brace yourself for an inhumanly strong bear hug, but it never comes. Mammon stops just a foot away from you and stares at you with eyes full of pure devotion. You feel a bit shy under his spotlight as he takes in every inch of your being.

"You're perfect, aren't ya?" he murmurs in a dreamy tone, his knees buckling in front of you. "Ya look like you were carved outta marble or somethin."

Mammon has never been one to be so generous with unprompted compliments before now; the potion must have something to do with all of these flowery words. You try to fight the flustered heat blossoming beneath your skin with a teasing remark. "That means a lot coming from The Great Mammon."

The use of his self-given nickname usually would make the Demon puff out his chest with pride, but now, he just seems to shrink meekly. "I'm not that Great," he says softly. "But you, you are Greater than Great. They should call ya the…uhhh…" 

He tries to think, but clearly, the love potion is scrambling his thoughts. "Whatever it is, yer it." He glances to the side and looks off at one of the pictures on the wall again.

"I was ready to stare at this all day long," he says, his blue eyes shining in admiration. "But now, with ya in front of me, I think the real thing is way better."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" you question, finally noticing what it was that has been entertaining the Demon for however long. Instead of seeing an oil painting of some long-dead member of the Devildom nobility, it's a simple Polaroid photo of you tacked to the wall. 

Peering closer, you recall spotting this photo tucked securely in Mammon's wallet. At the time, you had teased him about it and watched in amusement as he grew flustered, stammering through some half-hearted excuse as to why it was with him. It was flattering to know that he likes to keep a piece of you close to him, but now, you just feel that it looks so out of place next to these large paintings. A sharp feeling of shame and unworthiness plucks at your heartstrings, and you look away from it and back at the swaying Demon.

"What is that little thing doing up there?" you joke, looking between the elegant frames and your pixelated, kinda blurry face. "One of these things is not like the other."

Mammon looks at you with a confused expression on his face. "I put yer picture up here so then everyone will know just how special ya are. Yer Special Mc, and everyone in the Devildom deserves to see yer cute face."

It's a flattering notion, but the Love Potion has clearly made him overestimate the perception of your importance in the Devildom. 

"That is very sweet of you to say Mammon," you smile at him as you reach out to take the picture. "But I think this hallway was just meant for art."

Your fingers just graze the corner of the photograph before Mammon steps between you and the wall. He grabs your wrist with a firm intensity and you feel an unnatural warmth to his skin. Is this another side effect of the potion?

"No, it should stay." His tone is firm as his eyes scan your face. "Yer the best, better than all these clowns up on the wall." His eyes flicker to a portrait of a cat-like demon, and he scoffs. "Who even is this guy?"

You try to remember why his face looks so familiar. "Oh, I know this one." You explain proudly, recalling your Devildom History Class. "He was a botanist who made a fertilizer that promotes plant growth under the moonlight. He got the Devildom through a huge food shortage a couple thousand years ago and saved a lot of Demons."

Mammon gives you a huge smile. "See! That's why yer so amazing. So pretty, smart, cool, and ya always know how to make my heart do that thing where it keeps me up at night just thinking about that cute smile of yers." he grins, looking at you with his previous, unserious, lovey-dovey look in his eyes. You know he believes every word.

"Fine then," you say, your heart feeling full from his shower of compliments. "How about I get to take the photo with me if I give you a kiss?"

He nods instantly. "Kissin' ya would be the best." he sighs dreamily. "Ya just got these really soft lips that always taste like honey or somethin else that's really sweet."

There is a flash of that signature green in his eyes as he gently cups your face and leans in for the kiss slowly, as if he is trying to savor this brief moment. 

When your lips touch, the unnatural warmth to his skin seems to fade away. As Mammon seems to wake from the spell, he takes a reluctant step away from you in confusion.

"W-wha. Mc?" he blinks, furrowing his brows, trying to piece together the events from the last hour. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Those damn cookies," he growls, clenching his fists into balls at his side. "Just wait. When I get my hands on that Chihuahua, I swear I'll.." he stops mid-sentence, and his eyes go wide in shock. "I didn't say anythin weird or mushy, did I?"

"Ummm, like what?" you ask, feigning innocence. "You didn't say anything weird."

He laughs, throwing his head back. "Course I didn't. I'm the Great Mammon after all."

"You sure are," you say back, wrapping your arms around your First Demon. 

"What's that for?" He asks, hugging you back. 

"No reason." you hum, "Lucifer is in the Banquet Hall; you should head back and find him."

"Don't tell me. Ya gotta go and find the others?" he sighs, looking disappointed. 

"Seems like it." you shrug.

"Fine, but ya gotta promise me somethin'. Be careful; some of those guys are actin' all weird." he warms, reluctantly stepping out of your embrace. It's then he notices the photo of you on the wall. He looks confused and subconsciously feels around for his wallet. 

"How'd that get up there?" he murmurs, carefully removing it from the wall. But instead of tucking it back into the leather sleeve of his designer wallet, he decides to put it up higher on the wall, out of your reach.

"Aren't you gonna put it back in your wallet?" you ask

He shakes his head, "Nah, let's keep it up. Ya deserve a spot up there among the greats."

Leviathan~

After skillfully pointing Mammon back towards the banquet hall on the pathway that avoids the palace treasury, you find yourself alone once again…

Your shadow follows behind you like a cowardly companion, doing little to help with the feeling of isolation and paranoia that prickles down your spine. 

Taking another step forward, you step on something small and let out a small gasp as you flinch backward. The thing you stepped on has a human shape and your heart sinks to your stomach.

Was one of the strange side effects of the potion shrinking?

Did you just kill someone?

You take your DDD out of your pocket and shine your flashlight on the floor, praying to whoever is listening that you didn't crush any of your loved ones with the sole of the designer shoes Asmodeus bought for you.

Immediately, you feel relief as the light hits the object you stepped on. It's not a tiny demon, Angel, or Sorcerer. Instead, the minuscule, solid-plastic, smiling face of Rui Chan stares back at you. 

Without a doubt, this little phone charm belongs to LEviathan. It's twin swings from your device from a daintily braided string, but hers looks frayed, like it was ripped off and she was discarded.  

"You poor thing," you say softly, crouching down to pick up the fallen character. "I promise I'll get you all fixed up in no time."

You slip the figurine into your pocket and continue onwards. Levi must be around here somewhere, but where?

Beneath the cracks of one of the doors, you notice light spilling out. Slowly, you open the door to reveal one of the Castle's many indoor pools. The water ripples, and a head of purple hair breaks through the surface.

Levi has discarded his shirt and gracefully swims around in just his dark pants. Swimming in denim may not be super comfortable, but since he is an aquatic demon, he must be used to this kind of thing. 

When he sees you, he stops what he's doing and just stares at you with a blank expression. Unlike the others you have seen so far, there is no sign of a blush on his cheeks, but he seems different somehow.

Is it his posture?

"What are you doing in there?" you ask, calling out to the Demon. He seems to shake himself out of his daze and hunches over in embarrassment. 

"T-the others wanted to have dates with you." he stammers. "But no one is as strong in the water as me, so I claimed the pool. None of those Normies could take you away from me now.

So far, Levi isn't acting as strange as the others, but you are still cautious. "That is very smart of you, Levi," you say. "But I am not dressed for swimming, so maybe we could do something else together."

His eyes rake up and down your body, eying your attire. "Oh, you're right." he mutters, "I bet you think I'm just a stupid otaku who needs to touch grass."

"You know I don't think that," you say, briefly wondering why he dosent seem to be embarrassed as he usually is. He swims over to the edge of the pool and stares up at you expectantly. "I-i can't get out of the water on my own. Will you help me up?"

He holds out his hand for you to take, and you reach for it like it's second nature. It's only when he has a firm grip on your hand that his features shift, and he smirks devilishly, dropping his shy and unconfident act. "Oh, Mc, I just knew you would come to me."

He pulls you effortlessly over the pool's edge, and you squeal, hitting the water with a loud splash. Water fills your mouth as you thrash about, trying to breach the surface.

Levi's arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you to the surface. As you cough up water and try to catch your breath, he looks at you with those heart-shaped pupils. 

"There you go Mc," he purrs seductively. His fingers swipe away damp strands of hair out of your face. "Now I can see you clearly."

"Levi, what did you do that for?" you cough blindly, reaching for the pool's edge. But his grip around your waist is firm. You aren't going anywhere.

There is a weight in your back pocket that makes your heart sink. "Oh shoot." you take your DDD out of your pocket and raise it above the water. The screen flickers once, then twice, before going completely black. 

It's ruined…

So much for telling Luke you found the cure…

Levi's eyes flare with jealousy as he gives your side a gentle squeeze. "Hey now, put that thing away. You're with me, so you won't be needing any of those distractions. 

This side of Levi is bold, smooth, and a bit aggressive.

You would be lying if you said you didn't think this boldness was kinda hot. 

Gingerly, he takes your waterlogged device out of your hand and starts to place it on the edge of the pool behind him, but when he sees your little Rui chan charm swaying back and forth, he stops, narrowing his eyes at the collectible. "Why do you still have that junky thing?

Your gut starts to feel uneasy. Levi really did rip off that limited edition charm you guys got at the meet and greet.

Just as he starts trying to unravel the little braided cord, you come up with a plan. 

Turning on your natural charm, you let out a little giggle and loop your arms around his chest, successfully grabbing his full attention. "Noooo, come on. It's just too cute. I like keeping it with me since you got it for me."

He chuckles and nips at your ear. "This piece of plastic is nowhere near as cute as you Mc, but if that's really what you want, then I guess it can stay." With the DDD and the phone charm safely out of the water, you feel relieved. 

"Thank you, Levi." you coo, tracking his predatory gaze as it drops to your lips. He wastes no time pressing him to yours with confidence. 

The butterflies in your stomach take flight as your eyes flutter shut. Seconds later, you notice that his initial ferocity fades, and he lets himself go.

His eyes are wide open now, and he looks absolutely terrified. 

Mc, why are we swimming?" he gasps, looking down at your kiss-swollen lips. "What did I do?"

"It's okay Levi," you say comfortingly. And you mean it, this was because of the potion. "You were under a spell and didn't know what you were doing."

"But I still did it." he cries. "Brb, I gotta go become one with the pool now." 

He starts to lower himself into the water once more, but you pull him up so he cannot sulk at the bottom of the pool for the rest of his day. "Hey, come on. Let's get out of here and dry off the best we can.

He looks down at your soaked clothing and hair. His face flushes redder and redder until he looks like he is about to faint. Wasting no time, you start to lead him out of the water for his own safety. 

"I am so so so sorry." he apologizes again. "I know you will never want to see me ever again. All I am is a gross Otaku shut-in who tried to act like some kind of Dating Sim protagonist and failed miserably."

You take a fluffy white towel from one of the tables and gently pat his purple hair dry. "I still want to see you silly."

He shyly meets your gaze and gives you a wobbly smile. But then he sees his DDD resting on the table next to him. "Wait. Where is Rui-Chan?"

He scans the room frantically, and his breathing quickens. 

Before he has a full-blown panic attack, you take the charm out of your pocket and drop it into his open palm. "Shhhh, it's okay. The string broke, but it's an easy fix. How about you go back to the banquet hall and try to put it back together."

He looks at you like you have just hung all the stars in the sky. "You're an angel, Mc. That's my Henry, I always knew I could count on you."

He starts to head back toward the Banquet Hall, the sound of wet denim swishing back and forth, following him as he goes.

Alone again, you look down at your pool-soaked clothing and roll your eyes at the inconvenience. "Okay. Three down, eight to go."

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[theocddiaries]

Rouge: Are you seriously confessing to Sonic by letter? When you said you were from the '70s, I thought you meant the last century, not the 18th… Shadow: Do you think I haven’t tried other ways? Flashbacks 1. [Shadow leaves a box of chocolates at Sonic’s door, with each chocolate spelling out "Would you go out with me?" He knocks and steps back, nervously wringing his hands. The one who answers the door is Tails.] Tails: Mint chocolates!!! [starts eating them without noticing the message] Sonic: Who was it? Tails: Nobody! Must’ve been a mistake! Shadow: ... 2. [At a café, Sonic is sitting alone at a small table. Shadow tries to approach but hesitates, turning back. He fixes his quills and makes another attempt, only to turn away again with a deep sigh. While he’s doing this, Sonic gets up and leaves with Amy and Tails. Knuckles takes the seat. Shadow turns back and approaches the table with his head down.] Shadow: Would you go out with me? Knuckles: Sure, no problem. [Knuckles stands up, grabs Shadow by the arm, and walks him to the door.] Knuckles: See, the trick is to pull or push gently so you don’t hurt yourself. [pulls the door, but it doesn’t budge. Pushes, and it opens. Escorts Shadow outside]: There you go, all set. You’re welcome. [heads back inside] Shadow: … Present. Shadow: This is better. I don’t have to say it out loud, and he doesn’t have to answer me right away. Rouge: Alright, you do you. Look, here he comes. Good luck. [Sonic and Tails enter the café and sit down. Shadow folds the letter neatly and gets up. Sonic sneezes. Shadow walks over and hands him the letter.] Shadow: Sonic, take this, I— Sonic: Oh, thanks, how thoughtful. [takes the paper and blows his nose with it]: Whew, thanks. Shadow: …You’re welcome… No, here, let me throw it away for you. [walks to the trashcan at the back of the café]: Damn it! Tails: Wow, he’s really passionate about recycling…

[3typical3]

Tip for non Hispanic ppl writing Spanglish

*I initially wrote this at 1 am so like, keep that in mind as you decipher this lol

*context is key when speaking Spanglish, if your character is in a professional setting they probably won’t speak Spanglish unless it’s to a fellow co worker who also speaks Spanglish. It’s more of a casual way a speaking yk?

Also parents, I avoid Spanglish with my parents unless we’re switching from just speaking Spanish to just speaking English. But that’s depends from family to family.

It’s typically like switching sentences and not dropping in random words.

Example “ es Que fui a la tienda, and they were out of milk”

Example “ te ves cansada, did you sleep last night?”

“La neta” is and extremely common Mexican slang term, typically means, honestly. It can also be used to mean ‘really?’

Honestly example:

“La neta, Im tired”

Or “La neta, estoy cansada. Im going to bed”

In the case it means “really?”:

ex.) “Neta?! They said that?!”

I personally say “ de que” which is basically saying “like”, it’s a filled term, before saying a sentence in either English or Spanish

example “ de que idk it won’t work”

I’m Mexican so I use “ósea” a lot in both languages. Another substitute for words like:

“I mean,” “it'd be,” ”like,” “so,” “that is,” “therefore,” and “or.”

Ex. “ ósea, it looks weird idk”

The famous “ pero like” I personally don’t use a lot but an example of how it’s used in Spanglish is “ pero like, how did it happen?”

Sometimes I Just say “ fuck” but like in my Mexican accent or in a sentence.

“ fuck, perdí mi pulsera”

When I get startled I cuss in both English and Spanish but a Spanglish example would be

*insert random startling noise

“ ala verga! That scared me” or “ hijo de tu puta madre!” when something REALLY scared the shit out of me lol

“Chingada madre, where did that come from”

Rlly insert any cuss word in there and it probably works in Spanglish.

Edit bc I thought of this the morning after

In Mexican Spanish for whatever reason the word “madre” can be used like kinda like a cuss word lol.

Example “ Me vale madres”

Which in English would translate to “I don’t value mothers” but in practice means “I don’t give a shit” or “I don’t care”.

Another Mexican deep cut is the word “pedo” which yes, means fart but we’ve really given the word so many alternative meanings like

“ no es mi pedo “ = “not my problem”

“Estoy bien pedo” = “in rlly drunk”

“Vas a la peda?” = “ are you going to the party/kickback”

There’s more but that’s like the basics lol.

Also another Mexican term is “Aguas”… which literally translates to “waters” but it’s used as a warning.

“Aguas, there’s car coming”

The most famous of Mexican slang has to be “wey” or “guey” depends on how you spell it. But it just means dude. Another term that goes in hand is, “no mames” which basically means “are you kidding me”.

*men for whatever reason hate when the girl they’re dating or are into calls them wey. I think it’s because it’s seen as either improper or as like friend zoning.

“Wey, you’re not gonna believe this”

“No mames wey, look at this”

Another term is “equis” which basically means whatever

“How was the party?”

“Estuvo equis”

Another example

“ now was she dressed?”

“Equis, nothing crazy nothing wow”

*I recommend for Mexican characters looking into the words, or you can just ask me I just don’t wanna make this longer than I already have lol, “mamar”/“mamo”/“mamon”, each you would think is the same but no, no they are not and using one in the wrong context could be catastrophic lol. They are vital words to our vocab

If you’re writing to a character from a specific country, take the time to learn some slang. Sometimes slang crosses over, sometimes even we use slang we learn from each others dialects. Personally I love “joder”/“no jodas” because of the shows from Spain.

But take the time because if you write a Colombian character using most of the slang I’ve used above, you’d get a lot of hate from Colombians lol.

Some bad Spanglish examples would be

“ why didnt you eat your comida?”

Like no. Just no. Inserting a random Spanish word doesn’t equate to Spanglish, at least not in most Latin peoples lives

“ you look cansada” also just no.

*Edit I saw someone post abt this and I felt like adding it in

If you do insert a random Spanish word or vice versa it’s because you forgot the word but that involves a lot of blanking and being annoyed you can’t dig the simplest word out of you sub conscience lol

Example: “ you look, FUCK what’s the word! You know when you’re cansada…TIRED. You look tired”

Another commenter addition I’ll be adding is using “eh” as a filler instead of “um”. I use both but even in English I default to using “eh” or “ehmmmm”

The worst is when you don’t remember the word, only to have it appear in your subconscious hours later lol

Another fav filler word is “deste” which equates to another more Central American term “vaina” but a less refined way of saying it. Essentially they mean “thing” but that thing can be anything. It’s kinda a word when you’re to lazy to say the actual word.

“Pásame el deste”

*passes them x ítem

“No I meant the remote”

*trying not to kill the person because they could’ve said remote the whole time but chose not to

Sometimes we use bad Spanglish on purpose just to be funny

“Que sad” “Que cute”

* i personally love inserting the word cute into my vocab in Spanish just cuz so to each their own

Something I do is like say something in English and immediately say the exact same thing in Spanish. Or like I’ll say an exclamation in one language then end in the other.

“ GO GO GO, VÁMONOS APÚRATE”

“Que asco, gross”

“WOW, que bueno”

Also if you’re writing like couples tbh nicknames in Spanish would be reserved for when you’re speaking in Spanish and same for English, but each couple is different so if you rlly want to leave a nickname in Spanish in go for it. If you rlly want the endearment to be “ mi amor” please remember that after like the first or second time the Spanish speaker would probably just refer to their S/O as “ amor” or switch between the two.

Which brings me to the terms “mami/mamita” and “papi/papito”. Now, while they Can and are by some used in a sexual manner, they can also be used as general terms of endearment. My mom will sometimes call me mamita or my brother papito.

Amongst couples though it’s just kinda said, I saw someone describe it was you just give motherly energy so “mami” is said lol which I get oddly enough.

Once a couple is well established or just comfortable the woman can refer to her S/O as “ viejo” which is old man lol, but it’s like cute. On the flip side idk it’s typically seen as offensive when a man calls his S/O “vieja” but that depends on culture to culture.

Again mami and papi don’t have to be sexual but can be.

Another simple thing you can do is look up nicknames for certain names.

Examples:

“Mike” pronounced “Mique” for Miguel. Some people like to use “Mickey”, that gained popularity from an old Mexican singer lol.

“Ponchó” For Alfonso

“Ale” Can be used for Alejandro/Alexandra/Alejandra

Another thing I thought of is amongst siblings when referring to our parents we will say like

“Haz visto a mi mamá”

Which means have you seen “my mom” even though she’s both our mom… idk it’s weird but a nice little touch you could add to your writing lol

I get rlly annoyed reading bad Spanglish, sometimes it’s just painfully cringe and just obvious a non Spanish speaker wrote it, and I realize it’s bc most of y’all didnt grow up with it so like this is just what is typical Spanglish most Hispanic ppl grow up speaking, obviously not everyone speaks like this but figured I’d give tips from someone who actually speaks English and Spanish and switches between.

If I missed anything feel free to add on or if you disagree add examples

[stone-stars]

aka, emily using unusual senses to solve murph's puzzles

Transcript:

Emily: Can I go and sniff 'em Caldwell: Oh shit. Murph, incredulous: Can you go and sniff 'em? Emily: Yeah, I wanna get in real close to the nape of the neck where all your most personal scents come out, and I wanna sniff 'em. (laughs) Murph: Moonshine go ahead and roll a perception check with advantage. [Caldwell and Emily laugh.] Caldwell: I'm gonna be mad if this works. Jake: Which one is she sniffing? Caldwell: Both, I guess. Emily: I mean… I'm goin for both Murph: Okay. Emily: I think I gingerly walk towards Hardwon number one. Take in a deep nape of the neck sniff. Jake: Great, yeah. This is like as I'm squaring up to fight you. Emily: Then I'm walking into the other one. (laughs) Take another deep huff-a-Hardwon. And I got a… 23! Murph: Jesus christ. [Caldwell laughs.] Okay. Moonshine, you walk over to one of the Hardwons, um, the one played by me. You… sniff him-- Emily: Uh-huh. Does he smell like he been drinkin? Murph: He smells like… sweat and blood and alcohol that he's sweating out. Caldwell: Checks. Emily: Okay. Murph: You go over to the other Hardwon. Caldwell: Oh boy. Murph: The one being played by Jake at the moment, um, and he smells like sulfur. Murph: And you quickly think-- this might not actually be gold. Emily: Ah! So this ain't gold so we gotta figure out which one is actually gold. Umm-- if that's the case, can I just bite the next one to see if I think it's gold? [Caldwell and Jake laugh.] Murph: … wow. Emily: I don't wanna burn all my spell slots. Jake: Yeah, she'd be able to like, bend it. There'd like, be a little bit of give. Emily: Yeah. That's what you see when people are testing if something's real gold or not. They bite it. Murph, incredulous: Moonshine, go ahead and give me a perception check. [Caldwell laughs.] Emily: That's gonna be a 23! Murph, laughing: Moonshine. Jake: Damn right. [Caldwell and Emily laugh.] Murph: You do not press any of the buttons. You go around and you bite each individual gold dragon. Emily: Okay, I think the first thing Fia's going to look at is-- Fia's looking at-- is Shank out right now? Murph: Uh, Shank I think was out, 'cause Shank met Kenley. Jake: That's right, yeah. Emily: Okay. Shank, uh-- Fia's going to go over, take a sniff of Shank. Shank (Murph): Aah! Emily: To see if there is any sort of like-- if it is, you know, the scent of bonfires and dry leaves, and then I will look at autumn. If it is the set of, you know, wisteria leaves-- like-- wisteria flowers blooming I will look into spring. Jake: Very nice. Murph: Oooooh. That is… interesting Fia. You fuck me with the weird way you think, my wife. [Emily cackles.] Murph: Um, go ahead and give me a perception check you fucking maniac. Henry (Jake): You know, this is actually perfect, 'cause he hasn't been eating potato skins lately-- he really should smell like himself. Emily: 18 on the dice! That becomes a… 24! Murph: Jesus christ. Caldwell: Mmm. Take a big wiff. Emily: I fill my nostrils. You see literally some of the shadow is leaving Hank and being inhaled by me. Shank: Woah! Easy!

[lovetei]

turning back from sheep to human form and being around the brothers would make me so happy bc I'd have a human throat (lololol the wording-) again~ 🥴😵 seriously what if reader turns back having them down their throat is the only think the brother can think or that reader can think. Oh Wooo! I'm dizzy. I'm so sorry I'm terrible. I'm going to the horny jail.

The fact that this is what I've been thinking all day is crazy-

And the amount of requests I'm getting for this certain scenario is also crazy.

At this point this might just turn into a series T-T

And yeah, I'm back :)))

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Sheep!MC turned back into their human form meaning they have their human throat again

Warnings: Smut, blowing work, slight public blow work, overstimulation, grammar errors, spelling errors, no proofreading

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

Similar Posts: Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program, Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them

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LUCIFER:

The atmosphere inside the office of the mighty Lucifer changed drastically

All he can remember is that he's scolding you

And now you're on your knees as his hips bucked into your mouth mercilessly

"That... That's what you get for answering back." He managed to pant out as his grip on your tightened before he pushed your head closer to his hips, pushing his cock deeper to your throat.

Your eyes shot open as tears streamed down your face "Mim swo-rryy!~" You said after he slightly pulled his dick out of your mouth to let you breath.

A mixture of his cum and your saliva dripped from your mouth to the floor together with your tears as you put your hand between your legs like how he told you, like how obedient dogs are told to.

MAMMON:

The private room of a casino is filled with joyful laughter as Mammon and his colleagues play another round

He's been winning for ten times in a row now

His luck might just be today! Or it might just be under the table.

Another round of poker just started and the joyful laughter that once filled the room is now gone as it is replaced with a tense and eerily quite atmosphere.

Is it really quite though? I think not, considering how lewd slurping sound and satisfied groans leave both of your mouths "Good, good treasure." His voice turned deep and husky as he laid his hand on top of your head.

He continuously patted your hair while subtly guiding you into moving it up and down "Swallow it all now~" His cheeky voice ordered before he pulled your head away from his cock by your hair.

He put his finger in your mouth and forced it open, putting your tongue between his fingers "Very good!~" He praised like you're just a dumb human... His dumb human.

LEVIATHAN:

Everyone that passed Levi's room can just sigh out of pure disgust and dissapointment.

"He's watching that stupid 2D porn again is he?" Is all they can think as they heard loud moans coming from his room.

He won't deny that he's watching that 2D porn, but instead deny their guess that those moans are coming from the computer though.

"U-Ugh!~" He moaned shamefully as he held on his gaming chair for his dear life as he felt his cock touch the back of your throat again "S-Stop doing t-that!" He tried to seem domineering.

His attempt failed miserably though after you did not listen and pushed his cock even more deeper causing him scream pathetically "S-SHIT SHIT SHIT! FUCK U-Ugh! Wa-it! T-Tired, I'm tired!" He begged.

With another lick on his cock, thick white strings of cum shoot out of his dick again before he fell back to his chair, panting. "Wow, wow, wow! Let's try this one now!" You suggested before your hand touched his second dick that has been leaking pre since earlier.

His hands trembled as he tried to grab your wrist and pull it away "N-Nooo!~" He whined out but once again, it fell into deaf ears.

SATAN:

He loved reading books with you

The quite and romantic atmosphere that surrounds the two of you is just ethereal in his point of view.

Although, this session is strangely different from those romantic ones.

He's breathing is weird and erratic as his trembling hands turned over another page "A-And so- t-the army of t-the opposing- A-AH SHIT WAIT NO!" His knees buckled as he released for the nth time.

His upper body collapsed on his desk but you kept his lower body standing by gripping his waist even though his knees has obviously lost all its strength "You're... You're abusing your throat- WAIT WAIT WAIT!"

Before he can even finish his rant you pushed his cock in your mouth once again, going on a fast and brutal pace while he's left on top of his desk completely stupid.

ASMODEUS:

He loves you so much, maybe just as much as he loves himself

Maybe even more and he doesn't even know how that's possible.

But the fact that you're happy that you got your realy body back just makes him happy too.

He tucked a stray hair to the back of your ear as he realesed a contented sigh "What a smart way to test if you're throat is still working properly~" He teased as he slightly bucked his hips up and down similar to your pace.

You just ignored his comment and decided to get back into work "U-Uh~ My beautiful love~" He praised as he continuously stroked your hair.

A soft groan escaped his throat as he squirmed before looking down at you and smirking "Open wide now..." He ordered as his finger caressed your lips.

BEELZEBUB:

Wow, congratulations MC! You can finally eat normally again!

It must've hard for you all this time not being able to eat properly, if he were ever in your situation he would've lost his mind!

But nevermind that, you can finally eat properly again! Whether it may be food or him

He leaned back as deep groans and low moans escaped his lips "Thank you MC..." Is all he can say as you struggled to take his full length in your mouth.

You have taken large dicks before, but it's nothing compared to his considering how you struggled to take even his tip.

But he shall not worry as you will let your body pay for what your mouth can't do.

BELPHEGOR:

He's such a lazy fucker

He doesn't even want to feed himself but it's understandable as he's the avatar of sloth

But feeding you is a different case

You lay comfortably bellow him as his hips bucked in and out of your mouth "Ah, ah ah! One more please..!" His hips shook erratically as he experienced another orgasm.

His body almost collapsed but managed to grab the headboard as he lazily used your mouth as a fleshlight "P-Please... Help me..!" He begged wanting to experience another high.

All you can do is slightly nod before you grabbed his hips and flip him over, now your positions are reversed "You're already turning dumb and you still want another one? How slutty." You commented.

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