#hes captivated by the mysteries of magic

[jrueships]

he is NOT going back to Vegas ‼️‼️

[mytherapyisreading14]

Magic Tricks

Summary: You are celebrating Henry’s birthday but when Spencer shows some magic tricks, his hands quickly become a distraction to you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, kissing, dirty talk, hand kink, praise kink, choking, oral sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe y’all)

Word Count: 3,5k

Authors Note: This is the first time I wrote smut, so please let me know if I forgot any warnings/ if there’s anything to improve! Hope you enjoy :)

It's a sunny afternoon, the garden is full of life and everyone came to celebrate Henry's birthday today. Henry is currently sitting on a small wooden bench surrounded by his friends while Spencer shows them his favorite magic tricks. He lets cards slide through his fingers, pulls handkerchiefs out of the air and amazes the children - especially Henry, who sits there with his eyes wide open almost the entire time.

"What do you think, Henry? Ready for something you've never seen before?" Spencer stands in front of the boy and raises his hands, which start to intertwine in a fluid movement. “Yes, definitely!" Henry says enthusiastically.

Spencer quickly brings one of his hands down and pulls a glittering ring out of the air, which immediately appears in his other hand. "Look here, Henry, it's really easy,” Spencer says with a wink. “Wooooow!" the children shout in unison and Henry claps euphorically.

You, sitting next to Penelope on another bench, are also completely fascinated - but you're not just looking at the ring or the tricks. Your gaze keeps wandering to Spencer, to his hands to be precise, which performed the magic with such precision. It's not just the art of magic that captivated you, but also the man himself.

How skillfully his fingers move, how naturally he juggled the small objects - all of this makes your thoughts drift away. The fact that you’ve been in love with him for years now makes it even worse. You imagine how his hands would touch you, how he would hold you when...

You suddenly hear your name and flinch. You didn't even really hear him talking to you, as your thoughts were far away from the magic trick. "Are you even listening to me?" Spencer asks. "Why are you staring at my hands all the time?" You freeze. Suddenly you are so aware of the situation that you almost feel like everyone in the circle is watching you.

Your cheeks turn red. "Uh... I... I just wanted to know how the trick works," you stammer. Penelope, who is sitting right next to you, couldn't help but giggle and whispered to you: "Sure, that must have been the reason..."

"Yes! Exactly," you answer way too quickly. "I... wanted to find out how you did it!" Spencer looks at you for a while, then nods. “Sometimes, it's better if you don't understand the trick," he says with a mysterious smile. "Otherwise the real magic is lost." You try not to blush any more. "Of course, that's true," you murmur and try to relax. Penelope, who is watching the whole situation with a grin, giggles quietly.

Spencer turns back to his magic tricks, but his gaze keeps wandering over to you. You try to look away from his hands now, but unfortunately it's all to no avail. You find yourself looking at his hands and your thoughts wandering in another direction, and Penelope, noticing this, nudges you teasingly with her elbow. "Looks like our genius is enchanting you even more today than usual," she says.

To get out of the situation and keep a clear head, which is never possible around him, you stand up. "I'll get a drink," you mutter. "Good idea," Penelope says with a cheeky grin as you walk towards the house. The other children are busy watching the magic tricks again, but you can't shake the thought of Spencer.

His hands, which unleashed the magic so precisely and elegantly, preoccupied you much more than you would like to admit. You wonder what else he could do with those hands - if it wasn't just about magic tricks.

Spencer, who is busy with the children and their enthusiasm, casts a quick glance at Penelope, who looks at him with an amused smile. He goes over to her while the children continue to marvel and chat. Spencer casts a glance in the direction you went and then wonders if he missed something. “Tell me, Penelope,” Spencer begins, “do you also think she was acting a bit strange just now?”

Penelope laughs. "Oh, come on, Spencer. She was completely distracted." Spencer raises his eyebrow. "By my hands?" he asks, now slightly amused and curious. "Why?" Penelope looks at him and then grins widely. "Well, because she... watched pretty closely how you used them. She was completely fascinated," she explains.

“Fascinated?" Spencer repeats, now even more confused. "And what's so fascinating about that?" Penelope shakes her head and laughs softly. "Come on, you genius, do you really have no idea?" She clicks her tongue and looks at him with an expression that was almost too good-natured to be serious. "Um... no, not really," Spencer replies, looking at her confused. "Explain it to me."

Penelope raises her hands in an innocent gesture. "You're a genius, you should be smart enough to figure that out on your own." She winks at him and then stands up. "I'm going over to the others. Use your clever head properly," she says and then walks towards the house. Spencer ponders, the explanation has triggered something in him, but he still can't quite figure out what exactly Penelope meant.

Then he decides to tell Morgan - who is standing on the other side of the garden - about the previous conversation. He had no idea what had just happened, but something told him that he had to understand it. He walks quickly towards Morgan, who is just getting a beer from a cooler.

“Hey, Morgan," Spencer says, stepping next to him. "You didn't happen to notice what just happened, did you?" Morgan looks at him with a grin when he hears the question. He laughs quietly and takes a sip from the bottle. "Yeah, I noticed. She couldn't take her eyes off you the whole time.”

Spencer suddenly feels a little embarrassed. "What exactly do you mean by that? She was just a little distracted by the tricks. That's all." Morgan raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head, still grinning widely. "So you're really the only one who doesn't notice, huh?" Morgan asks. "Notice what?" Spencer replies. "Well, if you don't understand..." Morgan says, laughing again. "She's in love with you, pretty boy. That's what's going on."

Spencer is so surprised that he just sits there speechless for a moment. "You really think she's in love with me?" Morgan laughs again. "Um, yeah? Have you never noticed how she acts when you're around? How nervous she gets?" Spencer blinks as he thinks about it. He actually hasn't noticed that you sometimes act differently around him.

He thought about the tricks and the magic all the time, but never about the fact that you might be interested in him for another reason - something much more personal. He tried to push the thought away, but something inside him wouldn't let it go. He wanted this - you - for years and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up now. This has to be a misunderstanding, there is no way you are actually interested in him like that.

Deep down, he's wondering if he was really that blind. And what if Morgan was right? What if you actually feel more for him? He looks around again, glancing at you. Spencer puts the thought aside for now - but he knows he can't shake it off so easily. He feels like he can't ignore the whole situation any longer. After talking to Morgan, he realized a lot of things, but he really needed to talk to you to understand them. He has no idea how you would react.

You, on the other hand, try to avoid Spencer for the rest of the evening. You can't be near him without imagining what his hand would feel like around your neck or between your legs. But since Spencer is so popular with the kids and they can't get enough of him and his magic tricks, it's fortunately easier than you think to avoid him. But you still often feel his gaze on you and it makes you nervous.

Later that evening, after most of the guests have already left, you help JJ bring in a few glasses and bottles. You are just about to go back outside when Spencer comes towards you. "Hey," he says, but before you can even reply, Spencer pulls you aside and into the small guest room at the end of the hall. The door closes behind you and the atmosphere in the room is suddenly much more intimate.

“What's wrong?" you ask, still a little confused because he took you aside so suddenly. "You avoided me today," he says. You avoid his gaze so he doesn't see that you are blushing again and start babbling. "Henry and his friends were so impressed by you and your magic and it's his birthday, I didn't want to disturb you. JJ also needed help and I agreed to do that. We were both busy, so it's clear that we don't run into each other that often," you explain hastily.

“That's not true. You deliberately avoided me. And your mind was somewhere else. As if something was distracting you,” he says, taking a step closer to you. “Why don’t you want to tell me what distracted you today?” he asks, looking down at you. Your heart is beating faster and faster and you are a little overwhelmed by the whole situation.

You didn't expect Spencer to confront you with it. "Now you’re quiet. That's uncharacteristic of you. I think I'm making you nervous," he says. "I...uh," you start, but you're unable to form a sensible sentence. "I was just talking to Morgan and… now I know why you were looking at my hands like that." You look at him questioningly. "What?"

"You were looking at my hands," he says, "because you're in love with me." A laugh escapes you. Your reaction leaves Spencer startled, his voice suddenly uncertain. "Why are you laughing?" he asks, and for a moment he looks as if he's not sure what to make of it. "Is it because I'm wrong? I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable -"

But before he’s able to continue, you quickly grab his arm and pull him towards you. Your lips meet his, and for a moment everything else is forgotten. The kiss is gentle and at the same time full of emotions - as if you want to tell each other everything you never put into words. When you pull away from him, you look deep into his eyes and whisper “Morgan is right... I'm in love with you."

Spencer stares at you for a moment, as if to make sure he heard you correctly. But before he can say anything, you quickly add, "But that wasn't the only reason I was staring at your hands," you tell him. "No?" Spencer raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What was the other reason?" he asks, and you can see in his eyes how eager he is to know. "I want to know."

You can see the sparkle in his eyes, the mixture of relief and curiosity, and for a moment you feel your heart beating a little bit faster. There's something you haven't told him yet, something you need to explain to him. But the look in his eyes melts your nervousness.

"I was looking at your hands," you begin, "because you use them in a way I've never seen before. Your movements are so precise, so... controlled. It's not just magic, Spencer. I want to know what else they can do." Spencer is silent for a moment, and then you see a slight smile appear on his face. “So, you're looking at my hands because you want to know what else they can do?" he asks. "Yes," you answer quietly, "but also because I just can't get enough of you."

“I don’t want you to get enough of me. Ever. Because I am in love with you too. For quite a while now. Since the day you sat down on the jet next to me and challenged me to play chess, to be more exact,” he says and leans forward to kiss you again, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer.

A gasp escapes your mouth and Spencer takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and explore your mouth with his tongue. You can feel the heat rushing through your body and you press yourself even closer against him, reaching for his hand. His eyes follow every move with a curious look. You take his hand and slowly guide it to your neck.

His mind slows for a minute and then he finally understands. “That’s what you‘ve been fantasizing about earlier. My hands exploring your body. Me choking you. Haven‘t you?“ he asks and you nod. His eyes darken and you can see the lust sparkling in them.

His hand now wraps around your neck entirely and he squeezes gently. “More,” you whisper. “You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer says with a concerned look on his face before he tightens the grip on your neck. “Yes Spence, of course,” you breath out before getting distracted by his hand sliding up your inner thigh.

His hand is now under your skirt, running over your panties. “Can I touch you?” Spencer asks and you pull him down by his tie to whisper in his ear. “Of course you can, Spence. I need you to touch me. I’ve been dreaming about this since forever. I’m all yours.” You kiss slowly down his neck, then nibbling on his skin to mark him with a hickey.

That’s all Spencer needs to hear. His hand pulls your panties to the side and he grazes your clit with his finger to tease you. “Spence, please. Touch me,” you whimper and he chuckles. “Someone’s eager. Fantasizing about my hands got you worked up, am I right, sweetheart?” he asks, finally touching your clit with his thumb. Your only respond is a moan and you press down on his finger to show him you need more.

“I barely touched you and you’re already soaked,” he says as he runs his finger through your folds. “Only… only for you, Spence,” you manage to say and slide your hands up to his shirt to open the buttons, taken off guard when he pushes a finger inside you. Your knees are trembling and you have to hold yourself against his body in order to stay up.

“Spence, that’s so - it feels so good… I - I need more, please,” you whine and he pushes another finger inside you. He reaches all the spots you never could and you’re a moaning mess, rocking yourself against his hand. “Good girl,” he praises you and it takes you off guard. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles. “You like that, didn’t you? Me calling you a good girl. So praise kink and hand kink, let’s find out what else you’re into.”

You didn’t expect to hear such words from him. He is always the sweet, gentle and unassuming genius when you are around him, but now, that both of you snapped, finally giving in into your desires, he shows you a completely different side of him, one you’re more then excited to discover. It turns you on immensely.

He squeezes your throat more and pumps his fingers faster, rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb and it doesn’t take long for you to come on his hand. You hold yourself steady against him with trembling knees while he is busy running his hands down your shirt, tugging at your bra and squeezing your breasts. You help him taking off your shirt while he’s guiding you to the bed.

He unclasps you bra skilfully and pulls down your skirt and underwear in one motion, before he pushes you down onto the bed. His gazes wanders over your body and he licks his lips. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart,” he says before he leans forward to kiss down your neck to your breast. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth while squeezing the other one.

You arch your back and slide your hands up to his shirt again to go back to unbuttoning it, after you got interrupted earlier by Spencer giving you so much pleasure that you were unable to continue your actions. You pull his shirt off and run your fingers over his body.

Spencer slowly kisses down your tummy now, reaching your inner thighs where he sinks his theeth into the sensitive skin, sucking the spot to leave a hickey there before he gently kisses it and leans back to admire his work. It earns him another moan from you and he and grins. “So you like marking me, huh?” you decide to tease him back. “You are in no position to tease, darling,” he says with a mischievous grin before he presses his mouth against your cunt, licking a strip up your folds.

Your hands reach for his hair immediately, pressing him closer to you while he devours you like a man starved. Your whimpers are music to his ears and he can’t get enough of you. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says before he dives back in. You lift your hips to press more against his mouth but he holds you down with his arm. “No, you have to stay still and take what I give you, do you understand?” he asks and you nod.

He shakes his head in disappointment. “Words, sweetheart,” he simply says and you need to concentrate to form a sentence. “I - oh… yes, I understand,” you manage to breath out and he goes back to eating you out, his grip firm on your hips to keep you still. You never felt this kind of pleasure and when you look down and see him devouring you completely, it becomes too much, you come again moaning his name.

Spencer comes up between your thighs with a satisfied smirk on his lips and you pull him down to kiss him again. You taste yourself on his lips and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hand slides down to his pants and you open them with shaky hands, pulling them down. “Need you now, Spence. Please,” you tell him. “You need me that badly?” You nod. “Yes, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He takes off his boxers and your eyes widen, he is bigger than you expected. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times before he lines himself up at your entrance, sliding through your folds a few times to tease you. Then he pushes in and you moan his name. He claps his hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Shh, as much as I enjoy hearing you moan my name, you have to keep quiet,” he says.

From the lack of movement you are feeling right now you were sure he’s giving you time to adjust. When you feel ready you lift your hips to show him. He starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot with every thrust. “You feel so good, so warm and wet just for me,” he says and feels you clenching around him.

It feels even better than you imagined. He’s big, but it’s not uncomfortable and you want more. “Harder. You can - you can fuck me harder now,” you say and he chuckles when he hears how eager you are. He starts thrusts in and out of you faster, his hand wrapping around your throat again.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?” he asks, squeezing until you see stars. “Yes, oh god - Spence. Feels so good,” you moan, already feeling another orgasm building up, gripping the arm around your neck for support.

Spencer, who can feel how close you are increases the speed and thrusts even faster and deeper inside of you. Your body is on fire and when Spencer starts to apply pressure to your already sensitive clit, you feel like you’re going to explode. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come around my cock,” he says and his permission is all you need to let go.

Spencer fucks you through your orgasm, also close to reaching his own now. “Fuck, I need to come inside of you. Can I, Sweetheart?” he asks, his thrusts getting sloppier. “Yes, in- Inside me,” you say and he finishes a few thrusts later. When he pulls out you can feel his cum dripping down your thighs, but you don’t mind. He collapses next to you on the bed and pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss on your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks you while he plays with your hair. “Yes, that’s was amazing,” you say and give him a peck on the lips before you cuddle closer to him, gently stroking his hair. He looks down to you. “Do you have to get the morning after pill? I can get it for you,” he says and you smile. “I’m on the pill, Spence, but thank you anyway,” you say and give him a kiss.

You stay in bed cuddling but after a while you speak up. “I would love to cuddle with you all evening, but I think we need to go back out soon, the others are probably already looking for us,” you say and he nods. “A few more minutes. I don’t want to let you go just yet,” he says and you smile. “I love you,” you say and he smiles back. “I love you too.”

[sturnioz]

‘CRUSH’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. drummer!matthew sturniolo x reader genre. band au, smut, fluff

word count. 10.1k

❝let me take you backstage. just you and me, yeah?❞

content warnings. explicit content, alcohol usage, mentions of weed, unprotected sex, backstage sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praising, creampie,

authors note. fake bands are mentioned in this. if there is a band with the same name out there, im sorry lol

Despite his love for blending in with the crowd and remaining mysterious and unseen, Matt is anything but unnoticeable. The singular stripe of red dye in his black hair, the black eyeliner that smudges at the corners of his eyes, the tattoos that decorate his arms, and the oversized graphic clothing that drowns his frame… he stands out.

Matt—admittedly—sticks out like a sore thumb.

It isn’t exactly his fault. (It is, but he won’t admit it).

Matt loves tattooing his skin with crazy and memorable designs, wearing clothes far larger than his usual size, and stomping around in heavy boots. Matt also loves filling his waterline with black eyeliner and accessorising with silver jewellery. 

Painting his nails is another favourite of his too, though he usually goes for a chipped, all-black look.

It also doesn’t help that Matt is in a band alongside his brothers and childhood best friend. While the band isn’t huge, they perform almost every weekend at a popular bar in their hometown, attracting a crowd over 100 people that try their best to cram themselves in just to see them whenever they manage to book a gig.

So, maybe it is his fault.

But he never expected the level of attention it would bring him—eyes ogling from every direction, hushed whispers whenever he enters a room, and a constant stream of compliments filling his DMs on social media as well as being said directly to his face.

Matt secretly loves the attention, but he has never been the one to make a move when girls throw themselves at him, hinting for a quick hook-up or even a relationship. He just wasn't interested enough—no one has ever truly captured his attention.

That is until he saw you at one of the band’s gigs.

You were sitting in a booth with a friend, sipping a Coke through a straw and taking in your seemingly unfamiliar surroundings. Matt was instantly captivated by your presence, wanting nothing more than to gather the courage to walk over and strike a conversation—to learn more about you. 

“Starin’ makes you look creepy.”

Matt’s bandmate and childhood best friend, Nate, remarks, hardly even glancing Matt’s way. His attention is instead confused on his own reflection in the mirror backdrop behind the bar, standing on his tiptoes to see better over the rows of liquor bottles, trying to restyle his newly dyed hair, the sweat on his forehead causing his bangs to stick.

Nate continues, “Go talk to her. Work that so-called ‘Matt Magic’ I hear Chris yappin’ about.”

“Trust me, it’s real.” Chris declares, suddenly appearing and throwing himself down into the seat beside Matt.

He slams a tray of multicoloured shots onto the bar counter, spilling half the contents and leaving the bartender cursing under his breath as he wipes up the mess, glaring at Chris who just grins cheekily, avoiding confrontation.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes, alright?” Chris continues. “It works like magic—makes the ladies drop to their knees in an instant.”

Nate’s brow raises in amusement, “In the many years I’ve known Matt, I’ve never seen him hook-up or flirt with anyone…” Nate pauses, a teasing grin sliding onto his lips. “Got some problems goin’ on down there or what?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Matt grumbles, swatting away Nate’s hand as he tries to reach out and pat his cheek. 

Nate cackles, shaking his head as he grabs one of the shots that Chris eagerly hands out to the group. He then calls out to Nick, who emerges from backstage, adjusting the leather jacket on his shoulders as he settles down beside Chris.

Chris hums as he tugs the collar of Nick’s shirt down, “Nice marks, kid. Who was it this time?”

“None of your fucking business.” Nick answers with a hiss, running his fingers through his blonde hair.

“You’re always in mine,” Chris shoots back, causing Nick to gape at him. “Don’t give me that look, kid. You’re always yappin’ in my ear about the sisters.”

“Oh, Thing 1 and Thing 2,” Nick grins at the mention of the twin sisters that Chris frequently hooks-up with. “Who was the one that was here last time?”

“Zoe,” Chris answers, but the blank look on Nick’s face causes Chris to sigh in annoyance before clarifying, “Thing 1.”

“I thought Thing 1 was Chloe?” Nate chimes in, pulling a confused face.

Chris is quick to jump to Zoe’s defence, arguing that she’s number one, but Matt tunes out the rest of the conversation, rolling his eyes as he picks up the shot glass and downs it quickly before bringing his beer bottle up to his lips.

He then turns his neck slightly to look over at you once again, spotting you this time smiling at your friend and clinking your simple glass of Coke to her colourful cocktail.

Matt can’t help but continue sneaking glances your way. He is, undoubtedly, interested in you. This is unfamiliar territory for him—he’s never felt this drawn to someone before.

He’s not scared or nervous, and he really would walk on over to you to begin a conversation if it wasn’t for the fact you weren’t alone. Your friend was glued to your side… and he hated it.

Matt inwardly curses, wishing he could just get rid of your friend and have you all to himself for the night, but you two seem inseparable. He takes another swig of his beer, his mind racing with ideas. There has to be a way to separate you from your friend, even if it was just for a moment.

He can’t let this opportunity slip away, he’s going to have to find a way to get you alone. Or he’s going to have to wait for the right moment.

“I think he’s staring at me,” Talia whispers across the booth to you. She straightens her posture and runs her fingers through her hair, fixing any stray strands as she takes a quick glance at her reflection in her phone screen. “How do I look? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“You look fine,” You reassure with a nod, sipping your Coke through the straw. Your eyebrows knit together in curiosity as you watch Talia fuss over her appearance, pulling the neckline of her dress lower to show more cleavage. “But who’s staring at you?”

“The tattooed guy with the red strand in his hair, sitting at the bar behind y—The fuck? Don’t turn around!” You ignore Talia’s feeble attempts to redirect your attention as you spin around, easily spotting the man sitting at the bar surrounded by other similar-looking people.

You snort at the sight, but can’t help but notice his attention doesn’t seem to be on your friend. Slowly turning back to face Talia, you see her shoulders sag in defeat.

“He was staring. He looked away as soon as you turned around.”

“I believe you,” You tell her, getting comfortable in your seat as you observe the way she takes quick glances behind you, holding her head high with confidence. “Who is he, anyways?”

“You’re kidding,” Talia baffles, her eyes going wide. She takes offence when you shake your head. “It’s Matt. The guy that’s on my Instagram feed. His band is playing tonight—he’s the reason why we’re here!”

You frown at that, “I thought you wanted to hang out?”

“I do!” Talia quickly says, but you’re less than impressed. She exhales deeply, “Listen… Matt is the drummer in the band that performed earlier, and I haven’t been able to have much free time to see them play. On top of that, we haven’t hung out in a while and this is the only weekend we seem to be available — so I’m basically hitting two birds with one stone here, can you really blame me?”

“Guess not.” You sigh, even though you’re still not impressed with what’s going on.

You felt a little bit used and lied to, especially when she burst through your dorm room earlier and rambled excitedly about how she’s looking forward to spending some time with you tonight.

Your mood turns sour when it dawns on you that you'll most likely be heading back to your dorm room alone tonight, knowing that she will probably blow you off to go blow off some other guy—literally.

You wish you were the type of person to be selfish — to tell her that you’re not happy with her possibly leaving you to go hook-up with some guy, and demand her to stay with you all night to catch up and go home together with a takeout bag full of junk food, and watch a shitty old movie on your small laptop screen.

But you’ve never been that way.

You have never been selfish.

“I need to go pee,” Talia announces, her face twisting in discomfort as she pushes her empty cocktail glass across the table and awkwardly shuffles out of the booth. She picks up her handbag and rummages through quickly, pulling out her purse and shoving it in your hands. “Go get us another drink, and no more Cokes for you either.”

You don’t even get the chance to say anything as Talia waddles away in a rush towards the bathrooms and you push yourself out of the booth with a huff, clutching her purse in your grasp as you weave through the crowd of people blocking your path to the bar, seemingly busy with their conversations to even make room.

The grip on Talia’s purse tightens as you finally reach the counter, watching the bartender lean in to chat up some customer with a flirtatious smile. 

You debate on going back to the booth and waiting for Talia so she can work her charm to get you both more drinks. But you decide against it, instead hoisting yourself up onto a vacant barstool, so focussed on the bartender and his cheesy pickup lines that you’re completely unaware of who is sitting next to you.

Matt struggles to contain himself when he feels your shoulder brush against his as you sit down beside him at the bar. He steals a quick glance your way, his heart racing, but you’re focussed intently on the bartender, seemingly oblivious to Matt’s presence.  

Matt knows Brent, the bartender, all too well—he’s notorious for getting distracted as he flirts with customers, leaving others waiting, so you won’t be getting served any time soon.

This could be Matt’s chance to finally talk to you, to have the conversation he’s been yearning for since he first laid eyes on you. But the words catch in his throat, and he finds himself unable to face you directly, especially with his bandmates mocking him from the corner of his eye.

Chris makes obnoxious kissing noises, causing Matt to snap his head in that direction, but Chris doesn’t back down from his teasing as he grins and nudges his shoulder. 

��C’mon, kid. Show us that ‘Matt Magic’,” The wiggle of Chris’s eyebrows makes Matt want to fight, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has around his beer bottle. Chris quickly throws his hands up in defence. “Just want you to have some fun, man.”

“As much as it pains me to admit it—like it actually hurts me—Chris is right,” Nick chimes in, his eyes flitting between Matt and yourself, who is still wrapped up in your own head to hear the conversation that’s going on. It surprises him. “You’re surrounded by very beautiful women who clearly show interest in you, and you don’t give a fuck. At all.” 

“Maybe Matt does have some problems goin’ on down there…” Nate drawls as his eyes dip down to Matt’s jeans, tilting his head to the side teasingly. Matt rolls his eyes at Nate’s comment and reaches out to kick him, but Nick intervenes by pushing Nate to the side while Chris grins, amused by the situation.

“Look,” Nick sighs. “As much as I would love for you to get out there, it’s all on your terms. Don’t let these fucks peer pressure you into doing shit.”

Matt doesn’t feel pressured, not one bit.

But all he wants right now is for his brothers and friend to give him some space so he can be alone with you. It would be the perfect opportunity, and he wouldn’t have to worry about the others making grand gestures behind his back or worse, interrupting the conversation. 

As if reading his mind, Nick grips the back of Chris and Nate’s shirts, hauling them away from the bar, though they don’t stay too far—still within reach of their drinks and shots. 

It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do. 

Matt takes a deep breath, gently tugging on the earring dangling from his ear as he finally turns in his seat to face you… just in time for the bartender to finish his flirting. 

Fuck.

“Sorry about that,” The bartender apologises to you with a faint chuckle as he stands in front of you, running his fingers through his dark hair and adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose before resting his hands on his hips.

It gives you a full view of his all black sleeveless shirt that’s tucked into a pair of dark jeans, and you can’t help but notice the white name tag that stands out against the outfit, identifying him as Brent. 

Brent gives you a charming smile, “What can I get for you?”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to remember the name of the cocktail Talia had ordered earlier. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you scan the drinks menu above the bar, pointing to the cheapest options and you’re about to speak up until a voice suddenly interrupts you.

“Can I have a beer, a cosmopolitan, and a Coke?”

You whip your head to the side in annoyance, ready to give the rude customer a piece of your mind for cutting in. But the insults die on your lips as you realise who exactly it is. 

It’s the tattooed arm and the flash of red in his hair that lets you know who it is—the guy that Talia has been non-stop talking about, and has been so fascinated with the past couple of months, and even the main topic of tonight's conversations. 

Your eyebrows raise in slight shock. You’re beginning to see the appeal… Matt is really pretty. 

With Matt seated so close—shoulder to shoulder—you have the opportunity to really take in every detail of his appearance. Though you’ve basically heard Talia rave about him, you’ve never seen him up close and personal before. 

The smudged eyeliner and subtle black eyeshadow around his blue eyes give him a slightly intimidating look, but there’s a certain allure to it that makes you sink back into your seat, captivated. 

You can’t help but notice the tattoos decorating his arm, the flash of vibrant red in his hair, and the small hole on the side of his nostril that makes you wonder if that’s where a nose piercing once was. The redness around the area suggests he or someone else may have attempted to pierce it recently — perhaps even today.

“That’s what you’re both drinkin’, yeah?” Matt’s question snaps you out of your captivated staring, and he shifts in his seat as he turns to face you fully, the chains on his all-black outfit jingling with his movements.

As he drums his fingernails against the bar as he waits for your answer, you notice the black chipped nail polish, some definitely more chipped than others, but the look suits his edgy appearance perfectly.

“Yes—yeah, I think so…”  You answer quickly, realising you’ve been quiet for far too long. But then you pause, your face twisting in confusion as you glance between him and the drinks being made. “How did you know that?”

The corner of Matt’s lip curves upwards in amusement, and he shrugs his shoulders. “I guessed.”

“Here you go, gorgeous,” Brent interrupts as he slides the cocktail and Coke glass in your direction with precise aim, managing to not spill a drop. He then settles the beer bottle down in front of Matt next. “That will be—”

“Wait, can I get another one of those?” You cut him off as you point to the pink-coloured concoction in front of you, and Brent sends a wink your way as he turns on his heel to prepare the drink.

You give him a small smile as a thank you and you turn back to look at Matt who’s already looking at you with his eyebrow raised, and you suddenly feel the need to explain yourself.

“It’s for me.”

Matt nods slowly, “Had enough of the Cokes?”

“No, not exactly… She told me earlier not to get another one,” You say as you glance down at the full glass of Coke in front of you with pursed lips. “But I’ll still take this, you know, just in case I don’t like the cocktail.”

Matt smiles at that, and he reaches for the beer bottle with one hand while the other dips inside his pocket as soon as Brent returns with your newly made drink. He gives you the price and your eyes almost bulge out at the numbers, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you tell him you’ll pay by card.

You’re already mentally preparing yourself for Talia’s reaction when she finds out about the cost. It makes you grimace just thinking about the consequences as you dig through her purse to find her card, but the sound of a machine beeping brings you out of your search, and you lift your head to see Matt with his arm outstretched, his own bank card in hand and pressed down on the card reader.

Did he just…?

Your mouth repeatedly opens and closes in shock, unable to fully process what just happened even though it was the most simplest thing. 

Brent’s giving Matt an amused look, his tongue prodding at his cheek to hide the obvious smirk on his face as he shoves the card reader back beneath the bar, and he flutters his fingers at you for a quick goodbye as he serves another customer — you briefly overhear him compliment their hair, but you pay him no attention as you’re meeting eyes with Matt who seems nonchalant about paying for all of your pricey drinks.

“You didn’t have to do that,” You protest quietly. “I had the money, I—”

“I wanted to,” Matt cuts you off, bringing his beer to his lip and taking a sip all while keeping his eyes on you. “I haven’t seen you around this bar before, so think of it as a welcome gift… from me to you.”

“That’s… sweet. Thank you,” You show him your gratitude, warmth spreading in your chest at his unexpected gesture.

Matt nods his head and reaches over to gently clink his beer bottle against one of your cocktail glasses before taking a sip. You decide to follow suit, bringing the reddish-pink cocktail drunk to your lips.

But the second the liquid touches your tongue, your face twists in an unexpected reaction to the flavour, the taste catching you by surprise which causes the involuntary expression that flashes across your features. 

Matt watches your reaction intently, an amused glint in his eye as he takes another sip of his beer while you place the cocktail back down on the bar to quickly grab your glass of Coke, washing down the taste with something you’re a lot more familiar with.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s different,” You admit with an awkward laugh. You feel slightly embarrassed at pulling the most unattractive face and not enjoying a drink that he bought out of his money. “But it’s still a gift, so I’ll drink it.”

“Nah, you don’t have to do that,” Matt shakes his head, the amusement still sparkling in his eyes as he reaches for his card. “Let me buy you another—”

“No!” You immediately interject, not wanting him to spend any more of his money on the expensive drinks. Matt seems a little surprised at your sudden burst, and he reels his hand back to his lap. You cringe at your tone before adding. “I will drink it.”

“Yeah?” He hums, his eyes flitting down to the cocktail on the bar before meeting your gaze again. He tilts his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you sure about that?”

Your heart thumps at the intensity of his stare, a look you’re unfamiliar with. You nod, doing your best to sound confident as you mutter, “Very.”

“Was there a queue at the bar or something? You took so long,” Talia frowns as soon as you arrive back at your shared booth with both cocktails in hand.

Your tongue pokes out in concentration, careful to not spill anything as you hand one over to Talia who takes it in her grasp.

“Thanks, babe. But did you not use my card? I didn’t get the notification on my phone that my card was being used—did you get us a cosmopolitan?! Do you realise how fucking expensive these are here?!”

“Relax, I didn’t buy these,” You tell her as you slide into the booth, sliding Talia her purse. She stares at you, confusion written across her face, so you clarify; “Courtesy of your favourite drummer boy.”

“Matt bought me a drink?” The look that plasters across Talia’s face is priceless, and you bite back the urge to add on how he bought your drink too. But you let her live in her moment as you nod your head, watching as she takes the information in with wide, excited eyes. “Holy shit. He totally likes me—I fucking knew it. Did he say anything?”

“About what?” You ask, your brows pulling together and Talia points at herself. “Oh, no, not really. He was just talking about alcohol, you know… considering we were both at the bar.”

Talia sighs dreamily, “My type of guy.”

“Yeah, he seems interesting.” You find yourself agreeing, pressing your lips firmly together as you glance over your shoulder in a somewhat hopeful manner that you’ll see Matt still at the bar, sipping his beer or maybe even watching you from afar. But when you don’t see him, you feel an unexpected pang of disappointment.

It’s strange — you’ve never spoken to Matt before today, and your interaction was brief. Yet there’s something about him that has piqued your curiosity, leaving you wanting to know more.

You struggle to explain this newfound fascination. It’s completely out of character for you to be so preoccupied with a near-stranger, especially one that is your best friend’s crush. Normally, you would shrug something like this off and focus on the evening with Talia.

But now, there’s a heaviness in your chest, a restless energy that has you craving another encounter with Matt. 

Was it the intensity of his gaze that captivated you? The confident, almost flirtatious yet mysterious way he carried himself? Or was it simply the unexpected gesture of buying you a drink — a gesture that, for whatever reason, has left a lasting impression.

You’ve never been like this before. 

So why now? Why all of a sudden?

“What are you thinking about?” Talia’s voice yanks you out of your thoughts and you turn your head back in her direction. You quickly shrug your shoulders and shake your head to silently tell her that it was nothing, but she doesn’t seem convinced. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not thinking—”

“You were staring at the bar,” Talia points out before she decides to follow your gaze, her lips pursing in deep thought as she scans the surroundings. She suddenly smiles, “Are you staring at Brent? The bartender?”

“I said I’m—”

“You should go for it. I heard he gives really good head and honestly—no offence—you need it. He could definitely loosen you up and give you a good time.”

You deadpan, “Are you saying that because it’s the truth, or is it because you’ll feel bad that I’d have to walk home alone while you’re getting laid?”

“Both.” Talia sends you a sly wink, and she clinks her cocktail glass to yours before taking a sip.

You exhale softly with a roll of your eyes, reaching for your own cocktail until your hand stops halfway when you realise you’ve lost the Coke you had left at the bar — it’s likely been snatched up by another customer that got excited over a free drink. 

You really don’t like the flavour of his cocktail, and you find yourself wishing you had something to wash it down with. It pains you.

You consider being a bit dramatic, holding your nose to avoid tasting it, or digging through your purse for some gum that you know is pooling at the bottom somewhere. But you decide to just suck it up and drink it without making a fuss.

After all, it was a gift.

Just as you’re about to bring the glass to your lips, another is suddenly placed in front of you — a fresh, bubbly Coke with ice and a red straw that faces towards you..

Talia’s the first to respond to this stranger, her hand flying to cover her mouth to stifle her reaction as she chokes on her drink, her eyes strained and watery. You check on her to make sure that she’s okay before you glance up, slightly taken aback when you see Matt.

“You forgot your drink at the bar,” He tells you in a low tone. His eyes flick down to the cocktail in your hands, and his eyebrow raises slightly. “Are you sure you’re goin' to drink it?”

“I was going to.” Your reply in a whisper. But before you can say anything else, Matt is taking the cocktail from your hands and replacing it with the fresh Coke he’s brought over.

He holds the stem of the cocktail glass between his fingers, eyeing the brightly coloured drink for a moment before sliding it over to Talia, who is still uncharacteristically speechless. She quickly regains her composure, grasping the drink and pulling it close to her chest, as if it’s the most meaningful thing anyone has ever done for her.

“Enjoy this one instead,” Matt murmurs to you, and just as he begins to turn away, you find yourself calling out his name.

You’re not entirely sure why you’ve done so — perhaps it’s a reluctance to let him go so quickly, a desire to indulge the growing fascination you’ve developed for him. Or maybe it’s because you can see the gears turning in Talia’s head as she tries to figure out how to start a conversation with him—to flirt with him.

You’re a good friend to Talia, you always have been.

You always put her first.

“Do you want to join us?” You offer with a friendly smile, and you gesture towards the empty seat opposite you—beside Talia. “You’re welcome to come sit with us and hang out, unless you have somewhere else to be?”

Matt is quiet for a moment, his eyes darting around the bar as if he’s searching for something, but then he nods and takes you up on your offer. Talia’s beaming ear to ear with excitement, shuffling to the side to make space for him on her side of the booth.

But to your surprise, Matt sits down beside you instead, his shoulder knocking heavily against yours as he settles into the small space. He apologises quickly, lifting a hand to gently rub the sore spot.

You find yourself glued to your seat, sandwiched between the wooden barrier on the right and Matt’s body pressed against your left. The heat radiating off him envelops you, but you try not to pay too much attention to it, especially when you see Talia eyeing the two of you with a slightly wrinkled nose and an upturned lip.

However, Talia’s expression soon shifts to a grin as she turns her attention to Matt, “Thank you for buying the drinks,” She gestures towards the cocktail in front of her. “I’ll get your next one.”

“I appreciate that,” Matt replies, dipping his head in gratitude. 

He takes a quick sip of his beer, and you notice Talia watching him carefully, her eyebrows furrowing as she tilts her head, trying to read the label from her seat.

Matt seems to pick up on this, and he comically and slowly rotates the bottle in Talia’s direction. “It’s new — Brent got it delivered today.”

“Lost Boys? He got a drink named after one of your songs?” Talia teases playfully, and Matt simply nods in response. You fight the urge to snort at that fact, finding it a little amusing.

“You should try it,” Matt nudges you softly, offering you a taste of his beer. You are about to decline, to shake your head and say you’re fine with the Coke, but the smile that dances across his lips is enough to make you slowly change your mind. “I think you might like this better than the cocktail.”

You don’t question it further, and instead take the beer in your hands, taking a tentative sip. You’re a bit hesitant on the initial taste, rubbing your lips together firmly as Matt and Talia watch you, waiting for your honest opinion. you just take the beer in your hands for a sip and you’re hesitant on the taste that hits your tongue, rubbing your lips together firmly as the pair watch you, waiting for your honest opinion.

You swallow thickly, but are pleasantly surprised. “It’s actually really good.”

Matt hums, “Told you.”

“Let me try,” Talia chimes in, reaching out for the beer. You happily hand it over to her, but then you realise your mistake, turning to look at Matt with a slightly apologetic look on your face as it dawns on you that you’re sharing around his drink. 

Matt’s already watching you when you look at him, and you go to apologise, but Talia’s already handing him back his beer with a satisfied expression. 

“I like it too—it’s sweet.” She confirms. 

“That can be the next round of drinks then, yeah?” Matt says, his eyes briefly darting down to Talia’s purse beside her. 

Talia’s smile falters for a moment when she remembers that she was the one that offered to buy him his next drink. You can tell she’s thinking about the dent these drinks are going to put on her bank account, but she quickly musters up another smile and nods her head, excited at the thought of buying Matt something.

Before Talia can respond, you decide to come to her aid as your hand slips towards your own purse. “You don’t have to buy the next drink. We can go in halves—”

“Don’t offend me like that,” Talia cuts you off with a playful flip of her hair. “I have the money. I’ll get it.”

You wince at that, unconvinced. “You sure?”

“Totally,” Talia smirks. She then turns to face Matt, who has been quietly sipping his beer. “Your set earlier was fucking amazing, by the way. The band is so—”

“DID SOMEBODY SAY SHOTS?!” An unfamiliar voice screeches at the top of their lungs as a tray of multicoloured shots is suddenly thrust onto the table in front of you all, causing some of the liquid to spill over. A quick hand reaches out to try and recover them despite half of the liquid pooling around the tray.

As your eyes trail up the arm of the person who brought over the shots, you’re surprised to see an identical-looking guy to Matt, but with a backwards cap on his curly head of brown hair. His cheeks are flushed—a clear sign that he’s had quite a bit to drink already.

Standing on one side of him is another identical-looking guy, but with blonde hair, and he’s cursing under his breath and scolding the backwards capped one for the mess he’s created.

The capped guy is trying (and failing) to scoop the spilled alcohol back into the cups using just his pinky finger. It’s a comical sight, with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in pure concentration.

“This is the second fuckin’ time this has happened,” Matt informs with a sigh, but the chuckle that escapes him shows he’s not as annoyed as he’s letting on. “Chris also spilled them earlier.”

The backwards capped guy, who you now discover is named Chris, snaps his head up in offence at Matt’s comment and stops his failed attempts at trying to scoop the alcohol back into the shot glasses.

“I tripped over your fuckin’ dumbass shoe actually,” Chris hisses through his teeth as he knocks his foot against Matt, who doesn’t seem fazed at the attack at all. “Anyway. Scoot up, let us in.”

“Are you joining us?” Talia’s eyes twinkle at the thought of her favourite band joining the booth, and you couldn’t help but feel happy for her, knowing that she’s been waiting for this moment to happen.

However, you can’t help but feel a bit confused and slightly worried about where the others would fit, especially inside the cramped booth. It could fit four people at most, but you weren’t sure about the six. You’re already feeling a bit squished beside Matt and the wooden barrier.

“Of course we’re joining you, that’s the reason why we got shots.” The blonde-haired guy, who you found out is called Nick, scoffs as he makes a quick gesture to Talia to scoot up, creating just enough room for him and the other bandmate, Nate (who funnily enough has a name tag written across his chest), to squeeze in on her side of the booth.

“Excuse me, kid.” Chris grunts as he clamps a hand down on Matt’s shoulder to push himself up, placing his shoe on the smallest bit of booth space between Matt’s legs before climbing over you both, muttering how he doesn’t want to sit on the end.

Matt’s arm slides around your middle in an instant as he moves to the edge of the booth, pulling you along with him to let Chris sit at your other side, allowing Chris to be squashed between you and the wooden barrier instead. He weirdly seems okay with it, although he does wince when he feels your purse dig into his side, and you’re quick to move it with an apology, but he dismisses it with a wave and a kind smile.

Now you’re pressed right up against Matt, his arm bringing you even close to him. After a few moments, he lets you go, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your back as he gently pulls your shirt that had risen up back down, keeping you decent before his arm falls back into his own lap.

The brief touch sends goosebumps crawling up your skin, and you involuntarily shiver. You straighten your posture and tear your attention away from Matt’s wandering eyes, missing the small grin that tugs at the corners of his lips.

What you don’t miss is Talia staring at you, and as soon as you meet her gaze, her lips pull into a tight smile which you return back, grabbing your glass of Coke to distract yourself from what just happened.

“You. Nuh-uh—no way, kid. Put that down,” Nate points a finger at you and shakes his head with a tut. “We’re taking shots before we continue anythin’. You pick first.”

Reaching for one of the spilled shots that has the least amount of drink in it, you go for the easiest option. Nate’s mouth drops and his eyebrows knit together, as if you’ve just outwardly offended him, but he doesn’t say anything as he and the others quickly pick their own shots and clink their glasses together, eagerly downing the drinks.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the fruity taste that slides down your throat, but you can’t help but wince at the burn it leaves behind, similar to Nick, who starts to complain.

“What the fuck was that?!” Nick fake retches and rubs his throat, his other hand quickly reaching for his beer to wash down the taste. “What flavour was that—What did you fucking get?!”

“I dunno—a whole bunch of different shit,” Chris shrugs as he picks up Nick’s empty shot glass, taking a sniff. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “That’s passionfruit, kid. I had that too. We matched.”

“Oh, I hate it.” Nick gags again, bringing his beer bottle to his lips again to take a few hefty gulps, clearly trying to rid himself of the unpleasant taste.

“I think me and Matt had strawberry,” Talia announces, staring at the red stain on Matt’s chosen shot gloss. She grins, “We matched.”

Matt nods, then turns to you, “What did you have?”

“Raspberry,” Nate answers for you as he winks at you from across the booth, signifying you matched shots with him.

“Oh! So not only did I have a disgusting flavour, but I matched with Chris?” Nick scoffs, eyeballing every single one of you with irritancy. “Un-fucking-believable.”

“So, what brought you both here tonight?” Chris asks you and Talia after a few more drinks, courtesy of Talia who had promised to buy the next round.

Originally, the next drinks that were bought by Talia were supposed to be for just you, her and Matt. But with the others joining the table and their constant pleading, she ended up purchasing more than she had planned.

You feel bad, especially knowing how pricey this bar is, and make a mental note to pay for half of the drinks bought at the end of the night — even though Talia keeps giving you side glances, letting you know that everything is fine.

This is her favourite band after all, and she would do anything to spend a few more minutes with them… or even just Matt.

“Just to catch up over some drinks,” You tell him, glancing over at the stage where a few of their set pieces are still laid out. “We came to listen to your band too.”

“Yeah?” Chris grins, leaning back into his seat, his legs spreading wide beneath the table. “Are you a fan of our music?”

“I’m a huge fan,” Talia gushes, and you allow her to take the lead in the conversation. She leans forward, elbows on the table, causing her cleavage to almost spill out of the top of her dress in a deliberate gesture.

You admire Talia’s confidence, even though you want to tell her that she doesn’t need to try so hard to get their attention — she’s gorgeous as is.

Talia continues, “I’ve pretty much seen every single one of your shows here.”

“Have you been to any of our shows?” Matt asks, and it takes you a moment to realise that he’s talking to you, as everyone at the table is now staring and waiting for your reply. The corner of Matt’s lip curls upwards slightly as he tilts his head. “This your first time?”

“She’s never been,” Talia answers for you. “She doesn’t listen to this type of music. I practically had to force her out of her—”

“Is there something wrong with our music?” Nick asks you with mock offence, pressing his hand against his chest like you actually wounded him. Chris tuts with a shake of his head, making a joke about how much of a fake you are while Nate stays silent with a grin, watching everything unfold.

“No, nothing is wrong with your music,” You laugh softly. “I just really like the band ‘Solarz’.”

“You like Solarz?” Nick gapes at you, the mock offence look dropping from his face as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You nod your head to confirm, and he breathes out, “I think you might seriously be my favourite person ever.”

Nate and Chris laugh at that while Matt remains quiet with a small grin on his face, keeping his eyes locked. You start to feel a little stuffy and nervous, especially with how his body is pressed against yours. 

“Solarz is incredible,” Talia chimes in above the laughter, and you smile at her, grateful for the times she’s cleared her schedule to go to their concerts with you. You really do owe her. “Matt, do you like Solarz too?”

“I think they’re great,” Matt nods, his answer short and to the point. Talia smiles, but before she can speak again, Matt turns to you and asks, “Is this really your first time watchin’ us?”

“Yeah,” You nod, glancing over at Talia, who seems a little dejected. You don’t want to see her upset or left out, so you gesture towards her, hoping to bring Matt’s attention to her. “But, like Talia said, she’s a huge fan of y—”

“I think you should let me show you what’s backstage…” Matt cuts you off, leaning forward to whisper to you, even though his words are heard by everyone in the booth.

He stares at you through the strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes, waiting for your answer. You struggle to respond, feeling all eyes on you.

Talia is clearly not impressed by Matt’s sudden invitation to you. Her mouth is hung open in shock, and her eyebrows are pulled together in a clear expression of displeasure. You can’t blame her, given how she’s been trying to flirt with Matt this whole time, only for him to disregard her advances and ask you instead if you want to see what’s backstage. 

The phrase itself seems to hold a deeper meaning, based on the reactions of the others. Matt’s brothers and Nate all look quite shocked, some more smug than others, subtly nudging each other under the table. Chris even wiggles his eyebrows as he mouths the words ‘Matt Magic’ to Nick and Nate, the former gasping in response.

You feel conflicted as Matt’s hand slips into the gap between the table and your own, his palm facing upwards as he laces his fingers with yours. The warmth of his hand is a contrast to the cold metal of his rings, and you find yourself curling your fingers around his in a gentle grip. 

“What do you say?” Matt asks, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you. “Let me take you backstage. Just me and you, yeah? Come with me.”

You are aware of how stupid you must look right now, not speaking a word while the others are staring at you. You’re unsure of what to say, especially when a big part of you wants to decline for Talia’s sake — she’s the dedicated fan, and deserves this more than you do.

But another part of you is tempted by Matt’s invitation, drawn to him. The part wants nothing man that for you to grip his hand tighter and allow him to drag you wherever backstage.

You’ve always been unlucky with situations like these, always the one that’s left behind during hangouts at a bar while others had fun with boys or getting drunk — which, to be fair, is all on you. You never were the one to go home with some complete stranger or let yourself indulge in alcohol until you were able to function, it was never your thing. 

You nod your head just as Talia calls out your name, and your head immediately snaps in her direction, meeting her wide eyes with your own.

“Talia, I—” You start to say, but the words catch in your throat as Matt is already sliding out of the booth, his fingers tightening around yours and pulling you along with him.

You barely have time to react, hurriedly grabbing your purse as you’re whisked away from the group. You send an apologetic smile Talia’s way, wishing you could explain yourself to her, but the noises of Nate and Chris’s hollering and whooping drowns out any chance you have. 

You tighten your hand around Matt’s as he pulls you through the crowded bar, and you duck your head low to avoid the stares of strangers who watch you with him — wishing that they were in your position. It gives you a slight confidence boost, knowing that people are jealous of you, and you dwell on that feeling for a moment. 

Soon, Matt is leading you down a vacant hallway, heading towards a red door that reads ‘BACKSTAGE. STAFF AND BAND ACCESS ONLY’ in bold lettering.

“Here we go…” Matt mumbles under his breath as he pushes open the door, allowing you to walk in first.

The backstage area is a sight to behold. Fancy string lights hang from the ceiling, their bulbs flickering as Matt flips a switch to turn them on, bathing the room in a warm glow. The colour scheme is a combination of red and black — the walls are painted a blood red, adorned with various posters of bands, while a plush black carpet covers the floor, littered with instruments and clothing. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to a pair of light blue panties thrown across the arm of a leather sofa, and Matt seems to follow your gaze.

“One of Chris’s girls was in here before the show; Zoe,” The name doesn’t ring any bells, but you nod anyway, watching as he unzips a backpack with Chris’s name on it and shoves the panties inside as he mumbles under his breath, “At least Nick fuckin’ cleans up after himself.”

“Cleans up?” You can’t help but ask, and Matt responds with a grin, gently kicking the backpack to the side, out of your curious gaze.

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the various items scattered about — a few zip lock bags on the glass coffee table, some filled with pre-rolled joints and others with just the marijuana.

“Chris and Nate,” Matt whispers in your ear, causing you to jump slightly at his sudden closeness. They like takin’ a hit before goin’ onstage, calms their nerves.”

You’re quiet for a moment, then ask, “What about you?”

“Sometimes, but not tonight” Matt moves to stand directly in front of you, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, his rings gliding gently over your skin as he meets your gaze. “You know the reason why I brought you here, right?”

“Apparently not just to see what’s backstage,” You respond with a lighthearted laugh, though you can’t deny the nervousness bubbling within you. You swallow thickly, your palms sweaty and clammy. “I don’t—I don’t do this type of thing.”

Matt hums, “Do what?”

You feel a surge of embarrassment as the heat rises up your neck, and you can’t bring yourself to look Matt in the eyes, instead focussing on the horse necklace hanging around his neck. You wish the ground would swallow you whole this moment.

Suddenly, Matt gently grasps your chin, using his fingers and thumb to tilt your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze once again. 

“Hey, if you’re uncomfortable, I can take you back out to the back right now,” Matt tells you, his tone sincere and honest. “Just say the word and we’ll leave — I’ll take you back to your friend and even call a cab for you to go home if you don’t want to stay.”

“That’s the thing…” You pause, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you grapple with your inner turmoil. “I do want to stay. You’re… you’re interesting.”

“Me? I’m interesting?” Matt can’t help but chuckle, a grin spreading across his face. “Sweetheart, it’s actually you that interested me. You caught my attention the moment I laid eyes on you. I’ve never seen you around before, and yet you make me feel like I’m goin’ crazy. I just—” He stops, voice huskier as he stares at you. “I want you so bad. I want to play with you.”

“Play?”

“Will you let me play with you?” Matt asks you sweetly despite the dark look in his eyes. “I can make you feel good… wanna make that pretty pussy of yours ready for me.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod your head, “Okay.”

You gasp as Matt instantly turns you around, your back now pressed to his chest with his lips grazing across your shoulder, his teeth nipping at the skin as his hands slowly slide down the strap of your purse, letting it drop to the floor with a thump.

Your heart beats wildly in your chest as his tentative touch, trying your best to steady your breathing as his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt, his knuckles brushing your sides as he lifts the shirt up, bringing it over your head and letting it pool to the floor.

Matt’s teeth snag at your earlobe and you crane your head to the side, allowing him to nip and suck at the area as much as he pleases, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. He pushes his hips forward, his bulge rutting against your lower back while his hands come down to rest at your hips.

You fight the urge to laugh when you feel his fingers drum a beat on your skin, a similar pattern to the one that was playing earlier when he was on stage performing, but the urge to laugh soon disappears when he bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, your knees almost buckling from shock if it wasn’t for the grip he tightened around you. 

“You’re so fuckin’ sensitive,” Matt murmurs against your skin, his tongue flattening over the area he bit down on. “Are you sensitive in other places too?”

“Matt…” You whisper his name when you feel his blunt fingernails dig into your hips to turn you around, his nose brushing over your own before he leans in to push his lips to yours for the first time.

The kiss is soft at first—a few second lip lock that causes your body to tingle with nerves that soon slip away when you feel the intensity grow, and your hands slide around his shoulders while his come up to cup the sides of your neck, his head tilting to the side as his tongue parts your lips.

You grip the hair at the nape of his neck to bring him as close to you as possible, and Matt follows, his body flush against yours with his hands secure around your neck, taking control of the passionate and heated kiss. 

It makes your head spin and lungs burn—desperate for air, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to part away from him so soon. His kiss is intoxicating. 

Matt breaks away from the kiss as he pants, “Need you–need you to—” He cuts himself off only to reconnect your lips, unable to finish his sentence until he has to force himself back. “Fuck—I need you to lie down f’me.”

You immediately drop down to the carpet with no further questions, not daring to lay across the sofa after seeing the underwear one of Chris’s girls had left behind on the arm of it. 

Matt drops down carefully to sit at your waist, his knees planted on either side of your hips. You watch as he takes off his oversized graphic shirt, messing up his hair even more than it already was as it’s tugged over his head.

You’re in complete awe at his body, your hands reaching out to trace the happy trail that leads down to his jeans, making your mouth water.

His horse chained necklace glides across your skin when he leans down to litter kisses across your body, paying extra attention to your breasts that he’s eager to rip free from your bra—he doesn’t even apologise once he tears the material.

Your head tips back with a gasp as his tongue rolls over your pebbled nipple before it’s sucked into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the sensitive bud which elicits a moan from you, unable to control the subtle twitches of your body.

“Pretty—fuckin’ pretty…” Matt praises, his tongue swirling around the opposite nipple as his fingers knead the plush skin of the other. “You’re so sensitive. So easy to play with.”

“Matt—”

“Shhh, sweetheart…” Matt shushes you as you moan a little too loudly, peering up at you through hooded lids as he pulls your jeans and panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere to the side as he pries open your thighs, his gaze flitting down to your glistening folds.

Your heart races as he stares at your pussy, feeling shy and too exposed. You debate on closing your legs so he couldn’t look anymore, or telling him to hurry up so you don’t feel hot under his gaze.

Matt moves down to lay between your legs, his mouth trailing kisses over the skin of your inner thighs. You almost lose yourself as his tongue presses between your folds, his nose rubbing against your throbbing clit that’s been begging for his attention.

“Matt…” You whisper out his name pathetically, your back arching off of the floor as his hands join, two fingers pushing through your entrance and curling, drawing out a long moan from you.

He’s sloppy with his tongue, licking you in all the right places that has your toes curling over his shoulders, and his fingers that fuck into you has you wailing. You’re loud now — too loud to the point Matt’s free hand moves up your body to press over your mouth, keeping your noises muffled by the palm of his hand.

Your cunt clenches around Matt’s fingers in desperation, and the vibrations of his satisfied hums sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pure bliss, unable to watch the mess of hair between your legs no more.

His fingers stroke your gummy walls, the cold metal of his rings (that he really should’ve taken off) sends shivers down your spine.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Matt compliments before his lips wrap around your clit, and you moan beneath his palm, your thighs shaking on either side of his head as he fingers you faster and harder — the wet, sloppy sounds of your cunt making you want to curl up in embarrassment, but your orgasm is rapidly approaching and you want nothing more than to come undone around his fingers. 

He repeatedly whispers praises and compliments as he continues his ministrations through your orgasm; his nose nudging your little bundle of nerves, leaving messy and sloppy kisses on your cunt, and his fingers curling to graze against the spot deep within which is enough to make you tear up, becoming far too sensitive.

You’re pushing him back with your foot, and Matt chuckles as he finally lets you go. He moves to kneel between your legs that have fallen from his shoulders, and he watches your chest rise and fall rapidly as you try to catch your breath.

“Doin’ so good for me, sweetheart.” Your heart warms at Matt’s praise, and you peel your eyes open just in time to see him bring his two fingers to his mouth, covered in your arousal. He keeps eye contact with you as he pushes the digits past his lips to suck them clear, and you find the sight unbelievably attractive. 

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop! before his hands drop down to the belt on his jeans, unbuckling with one hand and pulling it through the loops. He’s quick to get rid of the rest of his clothing, moving them out of the way with a hard shove so it wouldn’t cause any interruptions between you both.

Matt’s hand locks around your wrist to tug you upwards, forcing you to sit up, and your forehead almost knocks against his chest from the force.

His head dips low to kiss your lips softly before he orders you to turn around — to get on your hands and knees in front of him. You do as you’re told without question, flipping around onto your knees with your ass in the air and face resting against the plush carpet. 

“Shiiit… wish you could see yourself from this angle.” Matt curses, his fingers gripping the flesh of your ass, giving the skin a few hefty slaps. He moves forward on his knees, and his fingers wrap around his cock to tap the head against your puffy folds, collecting your arousal with a low groan.

“Please, Matt… Please.” You manage to pathetically plead out, and Matt nods with a hum. His tongue licks across his bottom lip before tucking it between his teeth, watching as he pushes his thick tip into your cunt.

Your eyes widen at the stretch—the burn—fully understanding how big he is even without seeing it for yourself. He stops for a few seconds to let out a shaky exhale, his hands rubbing at your hips as he feels you tremble beneath him. It sounds like he’s mocking you, but you pay no attention as you wiggle your ass back onto him, begging for him to move.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Matt hisses through gritted teeth at the go ahead, and he moves his hand from your hips to your lower back, thrusting forward to push himself in deeper, bottoming out completely. 

A choked gasp rips from the back of your throat, your nails scraping across the carpet in search of anything to grasp onto to keep yourself grounded as Matt’s hips press against your ass, his cock buried deep within the warm of your walls. He’s panting while you’re unable to make a noise, mouth stuck open wide as Matt pulls his hips back before rolling them forward, thrusting back into you.

His deep strokes have you struggling to speak, wanting to let him know how good it feels as he’s angling his hips, hitting a particular spot inside of you that has you squealing, almost sending you flying forwards if it wasn’t for his grip.

“Easy, girl. I got you,” Matt laughs between grunts, his hips slapping against your ass. “Am I makin’ you feel good?”

“S’good.” Your words slur, mind too blank to come up with a functioning sentence. He laughs again before finding a good rhythm to work with—a rhythm that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, moving too fast for you to register.

“I’m gonna cum in this tight cunt of yours—fill you up. Gonna fill you up with my cum, make a fuckin’ mess.” The way his tone sounds and how he rambles his words indicate how close he is to cumming, and you’re not far behind.

You wish you could move back against him. You wish you could do more than just bend over with your ass in the air and take what he gives you. You want to make him feel good too, but you struggle to find your strength and your mind is too clouded with lust and pleasure to even begin to move.

You’re stuck as a moaning mess for Matt to use — not that you’re complaining.

The only thing you can do is tighten your cunt around his cock in hopes it will do something to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel, and he gives you one big thrust before he stills, his cock pumping long spurts of cum deep within your pussy as he hits his climax.

The feeling alone sets you off into your last orgasm of the night, your body tingling at the warmth that spreads through you. He’s panting heavily behind you, slowly rolling his hips to ride it out, and he grins when he feels your body convulsing.

Matt takes his time pulling out of you, stroking your lower back tenderly. Once you’re free, your body flops down to the carpet, the air knocking out of your lungs from the harsh impact, leaving you gasping for air as you try to regulate your erratic breathing.

You grimace a little when you feel Matt’s cum drip out of your pussy, making a sticky mess between your thighs and the carpet below you, knowing you’ll definitely have to go home after this and shower.

Mustering up enough of your strength, you try to turn your head to peer over your shoulder to see if Matt is okay, but a gasp fleets past your lips and your body stills when you feel Matt’s hands run up the backs of your thighs and to your ass, kneading your asscheeks before pulling them apart.

He leans down, leaving a kiss on your leaking pussy from behind. “Thank you for lettin’ me play with you.”

© sturnioz

[sserpente]

A Haunted Read (Kinktober #1)

You are certain the library you work in his haunted. However, you are not certain ghosts can cast green magic and tease you like that...

A/N: Request by @blackwidownat2814. This request is so old, I’ll go stand in a corner and be ashamed of myself. *clears throat* On another note… Happy Kinktober! It’s my favourite time of the year and I’ve got a bunch of spooky and/or kinky Imagines ready to go this year! Starting off strong with Loki, have fun reading! ;)

Words: 2019 Warnings:  ghost!Loki (sort of), smut

You were certain the library was haunted. You were not imagining things. You could hear it. Every single night. A mischievous chuckle, a dark giggle, right after whatever spirit had made itself comfortable in your workplace wreaked some havoc when you were trying to get through your shift.

The concept of a library that was open twenty-four hours a day wasn’t so unusual but it could have done with some more marketing. You were alone most of the time, sorting through books, listening to music, and handling returns left over by the day shift.

Working at night was refreshing. Regardless of the ghost haunting you, you already had the story of a lifetime to tell to your future children (or well, pets). Your boss didn’t want to believe you when you claimed that Thor, the Thor, and his brother Loki had visited the library two weeks ago, searching for a rare tome for a super-secret Asgardian mission.

A selfie with Thor (and Loki rolling his eyes in the background) was now your new profile picture on all of the social media platforms you were on.

Thor was just as righteous and warm as the media portrayed him. Loki was…something else. Cautious, quiet, snarky and to be frank, condescending. Not to mention he’d been the one to show up first, catching you reading a very steamy romance novel. Damn those gods and their quiet footsteps.

You bit your lower lip and rolled a trolley filled with books to your desk. At the end of the day, strangely enough, Loki had fascinated you even more than Thor had. After everything that happened in New York all those years ago, vigilance around his person was a given. But there was more to him than that, you were certain of that. After all, Thor kept him around for a reason, right?

In all honesty, he reminded you a little of those brooding and morally grey men in the books you liked to read. Cold on the outside but a good heart hidden beneath…right? His blue gaze had lingered on you just a little too long. It was captivating, mesmerising, stunning, breath-taking…it was hard to believe it was Thor who captured all the women’s hearts. Loki was not only handsome but also mysterious. He was your perfect book boyfriend and you had not just once caught yourself imagining him as the male protagonist in your latest erotic adventure.

A chuckle. You rolled your eyes. “Who is there? Show yourself!”

Silence. Of course. You hadn’t expected anything else. Except—

You flinched when the neatly stacked books on your desk scattered to the carpeted floor. You groaned. “Seriously? I just sorted through these!”

Perhaps you should have been worried about a poltergeist keeping you company at this time of day, alone and surrounded only by rows and rows of books, especially this close to Halloween. But then again, you had nothing to fear from the dead. The living were much scarier than anything a poltergeist could come up with.

Another chuckle.

“Really funny… You know if you’ve got something to say, say it. Maybe I can help you move on to the afterlife or something like that…” You bent over to pick up the books when you spotted a green hue flickering across the edges of some of the books, almost as if whatever had moved them still lingered on the covers.

Great. Ghost goo. Time to call the Ghostbusters.

Hopefully, the rest of your shift was going to be peaceful. You sighed, stacking the books yet again. They had to be re-labelled and some of them needed a new protective cover. If you got this done now…and the library remained this empty…you’d have enough time to finish that sexy Halloween novel you’d been reading.

After all, that was the best part of your job. It was heaven to get paid for reading. So you got to work, listening to some music to drown out the repeated chuckles. At least nothing else went flying for now. Although you couldn’t quite shake the constant shivers running up and down your spine. It was as if your body sensed another presence.

You didn’t hate it—but you didn’t like it, either.

Three long hours later, as you rolled your neck to ease some of the tension, you were done. The trolley was empty, the returns list was updated, all the books were re-labelled…and you finally had time for the steamy romance novel waiting for you on the desk.

After making some tea in the staff room, you made yourself comfortable in the surprisingly cosy desk chair and got lost in your story.

Your protagonist was about to be seduced by a handsome demon looking to devour her soul—of course, they’d eventually fall in love in the process. She was dreaming, half-awake, and then…experiencing sleep paralysis. The girl had gone to bed naked, making it even easier for the demon to tease her into oblivion.

Damn, this was hot. You could feel yourself growing wet, arousal rippling through you.

You flinched when something tugged at your hair. You flipped around. There was no one there.

The demon in the book pulled back the covers, revealing the girl’s glistening pussy to its greedy gaze.

Something tugged at your clothes. “What the…” Flailing, your eyes scanned your surroundings. Nothing. This was the first time this ghost was touching you. This…shit. “Stop it! Let go of me!”

Perhaps if you ignored it…you bit your lower lip, lowered your gaze, and kept on reading in an attempt to block the spirit out. No one liked to be ignored, right? Maybe it just wanted attention like a toddler. Or a pet.

The demon stuck out his long tongue and licked over the girl’s cunt, lapping at her juices.

It was just then you noticed that green hue of energy again, disappearing…underneath your skirt. Your eyes widened.

“W-Wait, no, what…what is…” Trying to press your legs together did nothing. The energy remained, forcing itself…you gasped.

“What are you doing? What’s happening, what are you…oh.” It did not wait for you to finish. The energy pressed up directly against your clit. A moan escaped your lips. No…no, this wasn’t supposed to feel good, what was it doing?

I-ignore it…just ignore it…just…ignore it…

The girl in the book whimpered, her legs falling open wider against her will. And then…so did yours. Fuck… You should be scared. Terrified. Instead…instead all you could sense was excitement.

You stopped reading, desperate to catch a glimpse of that green hue again…only for it to disappear. Damn it. Disappointment should be the last thing you’re feeling. And then, as soon as you brought your gaze back to the pages of your book, the pressure returned.

Oh. Oh my. Did…did the spirit want you to keep reading? And only then would it…

No. Oh no. You should not be playing this game. This was bad. Wrong. Maybe it wasn’t even a spirit after all. What if it was an incubus? What if it’d feast on your pleasure and steal your energy, your soul even in the worst-case scenario?

You bit your lower lip when the pressure intensified, sneaking its way past your drenched lips and…inside you as if to distract you from your worrying thoughts. Fuck…you’d never felt so…so full. How was this even possible?

Finally, the girl in the book opened her eyes only to find the handsome demon hovering directly above her the very moment he thrust up into her, claiming every single inch of her. And with every line you read…the invisible force working your own arousal kept stroking and teasing your pussy as if it’d done so a million times before. You couldn’t help it. You pictured Loki to be the demon seducing this girl.

Fuck it. Whatever this experience was, now was not the time for fear. You could be scared later and be horny now.

Growing hotter with every minute, it got harder and harder to focus on the text. You climbed the ladder fast, the mysterious energy pleasuring you better than any of your toys could. If it kept going, you would…you would…oh…

“I’m coming!” you yelled out, grateful that you were alone—save for the naughty ghost having its fun with you. You clenched around the energy force as you hit your climax, bliss unlike any other rippling through you. You dropped your book, your nails digging into the armrests, your head thrown back.

Your little poltergeist took its time. It did not let up until you’d come down from your high, your senses and dreadful realisation at what you had just let a ghostly appearance do to you washing away the last waves of pleasure.

And yet…you had never come this hard. If anything…this had been the most mind-bending orgasm of your life. You wanted to experience that again. You wanted to experience it again.

But, as the force slowly retreated and the green hue evaporated into nothingness, you figured it would be stupid to beg it to come back and give you more.

One thing was for certain, however. You could not, under any circumstances, let anyone ever know what had just happened to you.

The next evening remained uneventful. At first. No ghosts, no flying objects, no invisible hands forcing you to come for them. You were about to continue reading that faithful book from last night when all of a sudden, the main doors of the library opened and two now all too familiar figures walked inside.

Thor and Loki.

“Hey, you two! Any progress on your ancient Asgardian tome?”

You were quite flattered when Thor remembered your name and they both greeted you. Thor with a friendly “Hello”, and Loki with a curt nod. “No luck so far. But we have a new lead. Would you mind if we took another little browse?”

“Not at all, take your time. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Thor smiled and nodded before he walked off, straight toward the history and mythology section. Loki, on the other hand…lingered a little longer in place than he probably should have. God, even how he was standing there, lurking, observing you with those scrutinising blue eyes…he was grace personified.

“C-Can…can I help you?” you asked.

Loki smirked. “I was hoping you might be able to help me find some…lighter literature. To pass the time so to speak.”

“Uh…sure. W-what…” Oh, get it together! “What kind of literature were you thinking about?”

“I have an affinity for romance. Perhaps something along the lines of…what you read last night.”

Your face fell when he flicked his wrist and steamy erotica resting on your desk chair practically flew into his hands—enveloped in green mist.

Oh. My. God.

You didn’t get to respond. Not that you knew what to say anyway. Thor came rushing back to the front desk with an odd-looking compass in one hand and another really old book on settlements in Norway in the other.

“Loki! Loki, I think I found what we’re looking for. That thing Strange gave us is spinning like crazy, look!”

Loki didn’t look. His eyes were locked with yours still, his smirk never letting up. Fuck. Me.

“Are you quite alright, dear? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he mused.

You gnashed your teeth, resisting the urge to growl.

Thor gave you a puzzled look. Shit.

“N-no. I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“Right…” Thor began, “…we’d like to borrow this one.”

“S-sure…” Snapping yourself out of it, you took the book from Thor’s hands and scanned it before handing it back to him.

“Thank you! That will be all. Come on, Loki, stop terrifying the poor girl.” Thor gave you one last friendly smile before he made his way towards the exit.

“It was lovely to see you again, pet. I can’t wait to see what book you are going to read next,” Loki said before he turned on his heel and followed his brother, leaving you behind dumbfounded.

So he had intentions to return. Fuck…you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want him to.

[ascxlla]

SYLUS HEADCANONS

Synopsis. Just some headcanons of Sylus!

Pairing. Sylus x fem. Reader

Word Count. 452

A/N. This is my first work, enjoy!

Sylus is the kind of man who can't stand being away from you for too long. He's utterly obsessed, captivated by everything that makes you, you—your quirks, imperfections, and all the little things that set you apart. He treasures your scars, admires your smile, and finds beauty in every detail, no matter how small.

Public displays of affection? He's all about them. He loves making it clear to everyone that you're his, especially when someone tries to flirt with you. And when someone flirts with him? He’s quick to shut it down with a sassy remark and a steely glare—there’s no mistaking where his loyalties lie.

Sylus adores those late-night bike rides with you, where the two of you can escape into the night, exploring the world together. These moments are sacred to him, a chance for the two of you to escape into the quiet mystery of the night, leaving the rest of the world behind. With the cool night air brushing against your skin and the stars twinkling above. There’s something magical about those hours spent together, with nothing but the open road ahead and the sound of your laughter echoing in the night.

Spontaneity is another of Sylus's charms. He loves surprising you with sweet, unexpected kisses—whether it's a tender kiss on your lips, a soft peck on your forehead, or a gentle brush of his lips against your cheek. Each kiss is a reminder of his love, a small gesture that speaks volumes about how deeply he feels for you. It’s his way of saying, without words, that you are always on his mind.

When it comes to his feelings, Sylus is upfront—he wants you to know just how much you mean to him, how deeply he desires you. He's honest about his life, trusting you with the parts of himself he hides from the world. With you, he feels safe to be vulnerable, to reveal the layers of his soul that others never see.

And when it comes to making you happy, there’s nothing Sylus wouldn’t do. He is relentless in his pursuit of your happiness, going to great lengths to get you what you want, even if it means bending the rules a little. He takes pride in knowing that he can bring joy to your life.

Sylus can be moody, especially when it comes to you. He hates when you’re away for too long, his fear of losing you gnawing at him. Arguments with him are rare but intense, often leading to moments of silence where he withdraws, struggling with the emotions he’s not used to sharing. But over time, he’s slowly opening up, learning to trust you with the vulnerability he usually keeps hidden.

© ascxlla

[calisources]

ROYAL, FANTASY ROMANCE AND SPICE. all these quotes and sentences are taken from different sources as well some made by myself. change pronouns and places and names as you see fit. some of these are heavy with tension or sexual intention, though nothing too graphic, but you are warned some of these are full of spice and forbidden romance. if you have more suggestions, send them to me and i will add them to this post.

ACTIONS AND SCENARIOS. add +reverse to change the roles.

(royal ball): our muses dance at a royal ball. 

(captive in the tower): sender is held captive and receiver helps save them.

(arranged marriage): our muses are thrown together into an arranged marriage.

(childhood betrothal): arranged to wed since being children, our muses finally meet days before the wedding.

(ward): send is a ward at the receiver's house/home. 

(stolen kiss): sender kisses receiver before a battle, away from prying eyes.

(mystery knight): sender is unknown at court and receiver wants to know them further.

(secrets): our muses are together in a secret relationship as their families wouldn’t approve. 

(brother’s keeper): sender is receiver’s brother's best friend. Sender has been harboring a crush since they met.

(taken): sender is taken prisoner by receiver on their ship at sea after a shipwreck.

(horse ride): there is only one horse trope, our muses have to ride together.

(guard): sender is made receiver’s guard and they have to travel/spend time together.

(no one is here to help): receiver is taken to sender as their captive.

(aftermath): after a battle/war, sender and receiver reunite thinking the other was dead. 

(my prince): sender falls for receiver, who is the realm’s prince/princess.

(tourney): sender gives the receiver their favor during a tournament.

(piece of me): sender ties a piece of cloth on receiver’s hand to wrap around a wound.

(you left): sender left receiver years ago, now reunited, receiver is upset.

(last kiss): unsure if they will see each other again, sender kisses the receiver before distracting enemies so receiver can escape.

(under my protection): sender proclaims himself receiver’s protector while receiver is traveling/captive.

(starcrossed): our muses find out they have to marry other people and they reunite at night.

(we were in love once): our muses were together in a relationship in their youth and now see each other after years.

(my castle is yours): sender pledges their castle as a fortress to keep the receiver safe.

(gentle touch): sender heals the receiver of their wounds and inevitably grows close.

(magic): receiver is a being of magical properties and sender finds themselves enthralled by them.

(my paramour): receiver becomes sender’s mistress.

(the bane of my existence): our muses never got along and yet, they harbor feelings for one another after a heated argument.

(maze): our muses lose their guards in a maze and they find each other alone.

(it was always you): our muses are childhood friends about to get married.

(to make peace): from opposite houses, our muses are now married to bring peace.

(corner): behind a corner of the great hall, sender corners receiver after seeing them dance with someone else.

(advisor): receiver works as an advisor for sender, despite objection around court.

(rags to riches): receiver is a bastard now made legitimate and people around the realm came to meet them. Sender is one of them.

(at your service): receiver is a lady in waiting/personal guard to sender’s sibling and a romance develops.

(saved): sender is saved by receiver, who is a healer/witch.

SENTENCES AND QUOTES:

“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”

“He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.”

“Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.”

“I want you—but I don’t want this."

“Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.”

“There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.”

“I will not share you."

“Well, princess, let’s see what you’re made of.”

“She added the flowers and incense to help mask your own scent.”

“Your eyes betray you. Your body even responds to mine no matter that you’re angry. You want me.”

“He is my ruin. My complete and utter devastation.”

“Just how long have you been sticking it to the girl who’s like a little sister to us?”

“There’s a certain sort of beauty in submission.”

“My story hasn’t been written yet, but I know it begins with you.”

“You will love this man. Do you understand? You will love him, serve him, and obey him in all things. This is your duty to me and to France. Am I clear?’

“She didn’t need a man. She wanted one.”

“Your wish is my command, my queen.”

“It is legal because I wish it.”

“Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.”

“She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”

“Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"

“Make no mistake.You are under my protection now, and I protect what is mine.”

“But perhaps, when you sleep, you will dream of me."

“I cannot come with you, my prince.”

“This woman was consuming him, bit by bit.”

“Call him. Claim him. Speak his Name. Make him thine before all others.”

“You are the harbor of my soul’s journeying.”

“We love what we love. We don’t need to justify it to anyone… not even to ourselves.”

“To love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.”

“The heart is neither given nor stolen. The heart surrenders.”

“Give yourself to me.”

“I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your man to serve.”

“I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?”

“Marriage is a marriage- love or arranged. Both require the same level of commitment.”

“We are trapped by convention and must marry another.”

“We had both accepted the unwritten rule of arranged marriage: love, if it arrived at all, would bloom with time.”

“Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.I don’t know how to be without you.”

“We were doomed from the start. A lost cause. A losing battle.”

“Mr. Larsen, if you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You are my very own forbidden fruit.”

“I’m scared, but I’d rather have one real day with you than a lifetime of misguided security.”

“And you, are mine.”

“You think a courtship and a hunt are two separate things. They are not.”

“I will share him with you, I cannot lose him.”

“Why must you resist me so dearly? When you tremble under my touch?”

“You must be made of magic itself. Your touch is warm.”

“One day, I will be able to leave you.”

“Did he touch you? Did you enjoy the way he held you across the room?”

"I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?"

“And why, pray tell, should I make it easy?'

"You are the bane of my existence--and the object of all of my desires. Night and day I dream of you."

"I did not ask for this--to be plagued by these feelings."

“I have loved you at every dance, on every walk, and every time we've been together. You must feel it in your heart, because I do."

“Because,by the time I’m done, prayer is the only thing that is going to save you.”

“Suppose I told everyone that I had seduced you.”

“You’re not planning to refuse me, are you?”

'Tell me if I do anything you don't like.”

“Say you do not care for me. Tell me you feel nothing and I will walk away.”

“I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence.”

“If I wed your sister, it will bind me and you together for eternity, and I will spend every day of my marriage wanting you, dreaming of you, dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps.”

“I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening, how much you consume my very being.”

“That scent. It has remained imprinted on my mind ever since that night of the conservatory ball on that terrace. Lilies.”

“I desire you. I burn for you. I can't sleep at night because I want you."

“You’re the center of a star, and the force of gravity keeps pulling me closer, and I don’t give a damn that I’m about to be incinerated.“

“Whatever bad thing happened to you, it hasn’t made you less beautiful. There’s beauty in darkness, too.”

“I belong to you. Only you…I’ll always be yours. No matter what.”

[mya-valentine]

Hey! Nice to see you open again!

I wanted to request a Kinich, Ororon, Lyney and Xiao x fem!reader of who fell first, who fell harder? trope please

Headcanon: Who Fell First, Who Fell Harder

Kinich: He Fell First, You Fell Harder

Kinich doesn’t outwardly express emotions easily, but the moment he met you, there was an undeniable pull. It was subtle at first—a quiet admiration for your generosity, your determination, and the way you seemed to light up a room without trying.

His falling was slow and methodical, just like him. He’d start noticing the smallest things about you: the way you furrow your brows when you’re focused or how you always manage to make people feel at ease. But his stoic demeanor hid it all.

You, on the other hand, fell much harder once you realized the depths of his loyalty and quiet affection. The way he remembered the little details, like your favorite food or how he’d silently place his coat over you when it was cold, made your heart race.

By the time you fell, it hit you like a tidal wave. His rare smiles and the way he’d open up only to you felt like treasures, and you realized just how deeply you were in love.

Ororon: You Fell First, He Fell Harder

Ororon’s reserved yet mysterious personality had you intrigued from the start. He had a certain charm to him despite his detached demeanor, and the way he treated others with a mix of blunt honesty and quiet respect made you fall first.

It wasn’t easy to crack his shell, but once you started to get to know him better, your feelings for him deepened. You admired his resilience and the way he carried himself, even after everything he’d been through.

Ororon, however, didn’t realize his feelings for you until much later. When it hit him, it hit hard. Suddenly, he found himself thinking about you constantly—your laugh, your kindness, the way you always believed in him when others didn’t.

For someone who had spent so long questioning his worth, your love felt like a revelation. (I can totally see him trying to ask Citlali what to do without actually asking her) He fell harder than he ever thought possible, quietly vowing to protect and cherish you in his own unique way.

Lyney: He Fell First, You Fell Harder

As the charismatic magician, Lyney was used to charming crowds, but something about you caught him completely off guard. Maybe it was the way you saw through his theatrics or the genuine kindness you showed even when he wasn’t in the spotlight.

He fell first, fast, and hard. Every time he performed, his eyes would wander to you, hoping to catch your reaction. He found himself pulling out all the stops just to see you smile.

You took longer to realize your feelings, unsure if his affection was just part of his show. But once he started showing you his quieter, more vulnerable side—the Lyney behind the curtain—you couldn’t help but fall hard.

When you finally admitted to yourself how much you cared for him, it felt like magic itself. The way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world, sealed the deal.

Xiao: You Fell First, He Fell Harder

Xiao’s quiet and brooding nature made it hard to get close to him, but something about his stoicism and sense of duty drew you in. You fell first, deeply captivated by his selflessness and the hidden softness you occasionally glimpsed.

At first, Xiao tried to keep you at a distance, not wanting to burden you with his karmic debt. But your unwavering patience and kindness slowly chipped away at his walls.

When Xiao finally fell, he fell hard. The realization that someone could care for him despite his flaws and pain was overwhelming, and he found himself fiercely protective of you.

His love was intense and all-encompassing, even if he struggled to express it. Every gesture, from shielding you in battle to simply watching over you silently, spoke volumes about how deeply he had fallen.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[ckret2]

Chapter 55 of human Bill Cipher finally having a little fun for the first time in over a month of captivity in the Mystery Shack:

Bill does his level best to teach Mabel everything he knows about everything as fast as possible (while Ford eavesdrops). In the process, he finally reveals something about his home dimension!

But not everything about his dimension.

"Did you have rainbows in Flatworld?" Mabel had started drawing her shapesona again at the bottom of a fresh piece of paper. The heart was holding out one hand with several strips of glue shooting in a beam out from the palm; Mabel started shaking glitter onto the glue strips to make them rainbow.

"Not natural ones."

"Awww!"

"We could make them with flashlights and prisms, though."

"That's something." Still, it wasn't as cool as a real rainbow. She started carefully drawing Bill floating above her shapesona. (She probably should have drawn him before she put down glitter. She had to push up her sleeve and lift her wrist to avoid smearing the glue.) "When's the first time you saw a real rainbow?"

Bill didn't answer.

Mabel glanced at him. He had a hard look in his eyes. "Bill?"

####

For the first time in his life, the triangle was up—up but not north—in space, in the third dimension, looking down but not south at the plane where he'd spent his entire existence. It shuddered and rippled and cracked, contracting, as the entire universe crunched together around him.

Great walls of pale blue flame half a googol light years wide erupted into third dimensional space, where stars were caught and crushed between the quickly collapsing cosmic tectonic plates. He hadn't known his flat universe had stars of its own.

His home world shattered and crumbled, shrapnel and rubble spraying out, stone instantly pulverized into dust. Distant oceans rode the waves of the convulsing universe, flinging billions of gallons of water into space in a fine thin spray, glittering in the sunlight.

As the triangle watched, a great flickering rainbow ring formed in front of the ejected ocean, like the hollow eye of a hostile god staring at him in judgment.

He stared back.

And he felt himself fill with more and more and more power.

####

"Bill?"

"Sorry, I was trying to remember!" Bill sat back, laced his hands behind his head, and shrugged, "It's not coming to me. But I'm sure it was after I took charge of Dimension Zero. From time to time planets with weather systems would fall in through a wormhole, I must've seen a rainbow on one of them!"

"Oh." The answer disappointed her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She puzzled over it as she drew a fireball shape around Bill's hands in glue and shook on pale blue glitter.

Bill nodded at the page, "So what are we up to?"

"Fighting evil! With rainbow lasers and... whatever that magic fire thing you do is!"

"Hey, superheroes! Sounds fun. Who are we killing?"

"Superheroes don't kill people!"

"Fine. Who are we sending to the hospital with third degree burns?"

"I don't know, I haven't made up a villain yet." She almost asked Bill what kind of monsters existed in his world; but the question died in her throat. That might be too depressing a question. She added a heart-shaped glue outline around her shapesona and shook on a glitter rainbow, and set the picture aside to dry. She grabbed a fresh paper and tried to imagine what a two-dimensional butterfly would look like. Would it just have flat little stick wings since that was more aerodynamic? That sounded boring. She started drawing a two-dimensional squid instead.

Bill studied Mabel's latest finished work—the glitter-outlined heart, the glitter rainbow laser, the glitter fire, and the plain him. After a moment, he casually mentioned, "I used to wear body glitter."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Earlier you asked me about glitter in my dimension," Bill said. "Body paint was makeup to us. I wore it when I went dancing."

"WHAT!"

"And I'd cut open glow sticks to paint my arms and legs!"

"What color glitter did you wear?!"

"Usually gold."

"What?! Bill!" Mabel laughed. "You're already yellow!"

"But I didn't glitter. That's important!"

"You're boring."

"Shut up! I was gorgeous and I knew it! Why mess with perfection?!" He gestured down at himself, perfection, as though he'd momentarily forgotten what body he was in. "Listen, club fashion gets repetitive. If you've seen one equilateral in cutesy primary color gradients, you've see 'em all. There's beauty in simplicity—not a lot of shapes can pull off a solid color with a little light highlighting and still look flashy!" He'd sat up straighter, chest puffed out proudly, as he talked about how pretty he thought he'd been. "Buuut sure, sometimes I highlighted my points for fun. And to keep from stabbing people—it's hard for other people to judge distances with strobe lights on."

"What colors."

"Usually red, blue, or purple. You know—nice contrasts with gold."

Mabel grabbed another paper and started drawing Bill dancing. He leaned closer, elbows on the table, watching with more interest now. Mabel asked, "You had clubs with strobe lights?"

"Of course we did, we aren't barbarians." Bill picked up yellow and black markers out of Mabel's supplies, leaned over to her drawing in progress, and started adding a decorative border around the nearest edge of the paper in dots and dashes.

"What kind of music did you listen to?"

"It was... It's closest to the music in— You've never been to that dimension. Well, it kind of sounds like... I'll never hit those notes with human vocal cords." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Hold on. Let me get Questiony's piano."

####

It turned out that Flatworld club music sounded kind of like a broken tornado siren.

"It doesn't sound very good on a human piano," Bill said, giving the electric piano balanced on his knees a disapproving look. "The intervals between notes are tuned wrong, it's about four octaves short, and it's missing that tympanic membrane shredding tremolo when the treble jumps."

Mabel regarded the piano with some dismay. "Do you know how to play anything else?"

Bill sighed.

He played "Don't Start Un-Believing" for her. He even did that cool thing where you drag a finger up half the keyboard at once.

####

By now, Bill seemed a lot happier to answer Mabel's questions about his world; but she quickly worked out which ones he'd actually give a direct answer. He was the most free with science-y questions, hit or miss on the fun cultural questions, and instantly evasive when asked about his own life or uncomfortable political issues.

When she asked if shapes and their houses just kinda floated unattached to anything because they didn't have a home planet, Bill said they did have a home planet—hundreds of miles below, marking south by its gravitational pull—and they lived in the sky in between their planet and its rings. When she asked what kind of clothing they wore, Bill said they usually didn't wear anything, unless it was for practical purposes (gloves for gardening; goggles for chemistry; elbow-, knee-, and corner-pads for spelunking), and when she asked about his top hat he said slyly, "You mean my telescope?" and gleefully refused to explain further.

But when she asked if it was true that equilateral triangles were the lowest rung you could stand on before getting knocked off the social ladder altogether, Bill said that was a pretty rude question to ask a triangle. And then he said his world didn't have ladders.

When he casually let slip that he'd been able to see the third dimension when nobody else could, she asked how that was possible. He'd paused, looked up from his seventh completely incomprehensible drawing of an animal (she'd asked him whether Flatworlders had pets), and, with an eager gleam in his eye, he asked, "How much time do you have?"

####

Ford heard Bill's voice the moment he opened the door—"All right, star girl, pop quiz, let's see how much of that you kept in your noggin."

"Oh, I'm so ready!"

Baffled, Ford leaned in the living room doorway. The room was absolutely plastered in crayon-covered papers—illustrations, lists, mathematical and scientific diagrams—stars, cells, planets, vehicles. At the moment Bill was pointing at six papers taped together with a diagram on them that Ford thought was a Punnett square that had been expanded into a four-dimensional tessaract. "A polygon's sides are determined by...?"

"Genetic inheritance!" Mabel announced, the proud student who knew all the answers. "You have however many sides your parents have genes for!"

"And the idea that polygons increase by one side each generation...?"

"Is propaganda! Because if everybody hides their kids without enough sides, and they only talk about the kids that did go up a side, it makes everyone think that's what always happens and their family is the only one that's failing!"

"Perfect! And the highest natural amount of sides a shape can have?"

"Twelve! Decadoggins!"

"Close enough, dodecagons! But this isn't Greek class, I'll give you full points. So, any shapes with more sides than that got them through—?"

"Random mutation!"

"Correctamundo! Meaning the only way to get shapes with hundreds of sides is..."

"Crazy bonkers inbreeding! Because the same rich families just keep marrying each other!"

"With consequences including—?"

"Um..." Mabel puffed out her cheeks as she thought. "Skeletons getting all crackly, having a hard time making babies, and high—uh—infant morality!"

"Mortality."

"Lots of dead babies."

"Yes! And remember: when a mutation makes a body produce so much more of something than it needs that it starts harming the body, that's called...?"

"Cancer!"

"Meaning circles are...?"

"Tumors!"

"And what do we do with tumors?"

"EXECUTE THEM!"

"YES!" Bill ripped the Punnett tesseract off the wall. Behind it was a piece of paper that read, in blood red crayon, ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCISM. "You're ready to man the guillotines! A+, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"Yes!" Mabel peeled a sparkly purple star off a sticker sheet and stuck it on her cheek. Her face had over twenty star stickers.

Ford leaned against the living room doorframe, watching the scene inside with wonder. He was more than a little iffy about the political lesson—he, personally, was incredibly opposed to the idea that it was morally imperative to execute anybody with extra body parts, nobility or not—but the presentation of it was certainly captivating. It had been a long time since Ford had seen Bill like this. (It had been a long time since Ford would have trusted any lesson out of Bill's mouth.)

"Now let's get back to biangles." Bill picked up a fake crystal ball that he'd drawn various lines and shapes on with a marker.

"Awww, again?!"

"Hey. Listen," he said firmly. "I believe in you. You'll get it this time, I know it."

Ford looked around the room, taking in the scene more fully. The floor was scattered with drawings of aliens. A few of them were various polygons—regular and irregular, with the irregularities further broken down by whether they otherwise showed radial or lateral symmetry—each with thin limbs and an eye on a corner. Most were fantastical alien animals, a few that Ford had seen or been warned about on other worlds. Some had been scribbled out and redrawn when Bill's limited artistic capabilities didn't live up to his unknown standards; a few were in Mabel's art style, meaning Bill must have described them to her while she drew.

Twenty pieces of paper had been taped together on the wall behind the TV, with a drawing of a planet surrounded by a circular ring of small blobs—a planetary ring?—and a moon further out. The empty atmosphere between the planet and the ring was filled with squares and rectangles, which were grouped together in red blobby circles that were each labeled by letter: "Country △," "Country B," "Country C," "Country D (communists)," etc. A badly-drawn sea serpent slithered along the outside of the ring with the words "Here There Be Monsters" written over it.

A tall column of taped together papers was covered in examples of alien writing systems—some of them Ford recognized from his travels through other dimensions. From the ones he understood, it looked like the words were demonstrations of Mabel's name in dozens of alien writing systems. Sometimes Bill spelled her name Maybell or Mabelle.

And there were so many papers scattered around the room with little graphs and symbols and arrows Ford couldn't make sense of. And in the center of it all, Bill, alive, energetic, his full attention enthusiastically focused on his student.

Bill had to be up to something; but Ford couldn't imagine what, based on the bizarre assemblage of information in front of him. What nefarious purpose could be behind showing Mabel how to spell her name in alien languages? Unless his goal was to so enchant her with tales of other worlds that he could persuade her to help him open a new portal...? No, even for Bill that felt like a stretch. 

He looked at the wall again. Surely, that wasn't Bill's homeworld. Ford had spent years of his life trying to find the world Bill was from; surely Bill hadn't just drawn it in the middle of Ford's living room. Had he?

"Okay, let's start with spherical geometry from the top," Bill said, polishing the crystal ball on his leggings to rub off the marker lines. "Don't tell anyone I can do this." He held up the ball, tapped it twice on the bottom, and it hovered in place when he let it go, freeing up both his hands to hold a ruler and marker. (How long had he been able to do that? Had he even noticed Ford was standing right outside?) He drew a line across the surface of the ball, "Pretend it's a planet. If you draw a line on a sphere, it's obviously curved, right?"

"Right," Mabel said.

"But now pretend you're on the planet. The surface of the world is a flat plane to you. From your perspective, you can walk in a straight line from point A to point B."

"But it's actually a curve. From space."

"Now you're catching on. That's what makes spherical geometry a little weird: when you're on the sphere you treat everything around you like it's 2D even though when you're off the sphere you can see it's 3D." Why in the world was Bill teaching Mabel about spherical geometry?

Bill drew two more lines to connect to the first. "So! You can draw a triangle on a sphere, no problem, right?"

"Right."

"And something you can only do in spherical geometry... is... pretend this is the North Pole and the South Pole..." Bill carefully rotated the ball under his marker as he drew a straight line from one "pole" to the other, and then drew a second straight line from pole to pole next to it. "Ta-da! If a tri-angle has three angles, a bi-angle has two angles. You've got yourself a two-sided polygon. Right?"

Mabel hesitated. "Right."

"You with me so far, Shooting Star?"

"So far," she said, with a tone that suggested she expected that to change very soon.

"But if you try to transfer that shape from spherical geometry to Euclidean geometry—" Bill turned to an expanse of still partially-uncovered white papers taped to the wall like a makeshift whiteboard, drew two points, and drew two straight lines, red and blue, between the points, "—it just doesn't work. You can't see a biangle in a flat world."

And now Mabel was squinting suspiciously at him.

Bill said, "I lost you."

"But where does it go!"

Bill shrugged. "You lost it when you lost the third dimension."

"But you said when you're on the sphere it's two dimensional!"

"From your perspective it's two dimensional, but there's still a third dimension enabling the sphere to exist."

"Then from my perspective when I'm on the planet shouldn't a biangle look like that?" Mabel pointed at the two straight lines on the piece of paper. "Since everything looks all 2D to me? But it doesn't! It's like flying from the North Pole to the South Pole through America and then flying back through China! China and America don't just squish together into the same place just because you're going in a straight line on a sphere!"

"I'd kill to hear you give a geography lesson to a Flat Earther convention."

Mabel gave him her best angry scowl.

"It was a compliment! I think you'd inspire some hilarious arguments, that's all!" Bill put two dots on the paper and offered Mabel the marker. "Look, try it for yourself! Draw a biangle."

Mabel took the marker and, after a moment of thought, drew two curved lines between the points, making a football shape.

"Those aren't straight lines, kid."

"Argh!" Mabel pulled the paper off the wallpaper, bent it into a curve, and shakily drew a straight line between the two points; but no matter how else she twisted or bent the paper, she couldn't find a path that would let her draw a second straight line between the points without overlapping the first line she'd drawn. She crumpled the paper, tossed it on the floor, and whispered, "It's witchcraft, Bill."

He burst out laughing. "I could name a few horror writers that felt the same way about non-Euclidean geometry."

"But whyyy does the biangle disappear when it goes from a sphere to normal flat paper."

"Because..." Bill groped for an explanation he hadn't already tried. He crossed an arm across his chest and tapped a knuckle just under the bow tied in his hoodie's draw strings the way some humans might tap a hand to their chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. How many times had Ford seen him make that exact same face in his true triangular form, whenever Ford was struggling to understand a lesson on portal physics and Bill was struggling to find a way to translate it into concepts Ford had encountered in his human education? "Let's try this another way."

The scene made Ford ache.

Look past the paper and the crayons, and the graph- and figure- and writing-covered walls looked so much like the advanced physics lessons and blueprints that Bill had coated Ford's starry blue dreamscape in during his sleep. Look past the flesh and bone, and Bill moved and gestured and spoke the way he had when he was teaching Ford how to build a bridge between worlds.

It was the first time since Bill's death that Ford had seen 100% of his personality shining—unhindered by grief, secrets, or a disdainful human audience. It was the first time in decades that Ford had seen Bill at his best.

In that moment, for a split second, Ford forgot how to hate Bill. He couldn't see Bill the traitor, Bill the invader, Bill the homicidal party animal. The only person in that room with Mabel was Bill Cipher the Teacher, Mentor, and Muse that Ford used to know so long ago. Like an ancient god who'd chosen to spend a day roleplaying as a giddy professor—Bill was holding back a tsunami's worth of vast, ancient, unintelligible alien knowledge so that he could drip out revelations at a faucet's pace, slow enough for his student to catch each drop in her hands.

Over thirty years ago, there had been moments when this Bill peeked out behind the above-it-all façade—and that had been the Bill that Ford was happiest to see, the Bill that Ford had thought of as a friend rather than a mere teacher... but each time, it hadn't been long before Bill seemly caught himself and turned off the faucet for the night.

Because he couldn't let Ford learn too much, or he would have seen through Bill's ruse.

Hatred tiredly crept back in.

"I've got it!" Mabel triumphantly flung her hands in the air. "It's like orange slices!"

"Orange slices?" Bill repeated.

"Be right back!" Mabel zoomed to the kitchen, shouting, "Hi Grunkle Ford!" as she passed.

Ford watched her go, then looked back at Bill; Bill had glanced at him for the first time. But all he did was frown and mutter, "I don't remember inviting you to audit this course."

Before Ford could decide whether to retort, Mabel charged back into the living room with an orange and a sharp knife. "Okay! If you draw a triangle on the orange," Mabel said, doing so with a marker, before cutting into it with the knife, "and then you—you cut it out all the way to the center..."

"Be careful with that," Ford said. Mabel was holding the orange in one palm and stabbing into it from the opposite side.

Bill said, "Lay off, Six Fingers. I'm keeping my eye on her, she's not gonna hurt herself."

"I'm being careful!" Mabel was struggling to get an even wedge cut all the way to the center of the orange; she eventually gave up and  dug into the orange with her fingertips to tug out a messy mangled handful of fruit, attached to a roughly equilateral patch of orange peel about two inches to each side. She shook orange juice off her fingers. "Pretend I cut that out better."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Bill said. "It looks flawless."

She pointed at each corner of the peel triangle. "Okay so, these are the three corners of the spherical triangle, right?"

"Right."

"And if you want to make a regular flat triangle, you can... try to cut a straight line between the corners, like..." She squeezed the rest of the orange between her knees, held the edges of the triangular peel with her fingertips, and sawed off the orange pulp underneath, trying to cut a flat level plane as near to the triangle's corners as she could. Ford almost warned Mabel about the knife again, but glanced at Bill's face and his expression of unworried, keen curiosity, and kept quiet. Bill reached out and caught the sawed-off chunk of orange pulp before it hit the ground.

Mabel held out the peel slice. "There! Right? Spherical triangle on top and flat triangle on the bottom!"

Bill considered that, one hand on his hip. He popped the orange chunk in his mouth. "All right. So far so good."

"But if you make a biangle..." Mabel drew two lines between the top and bottom of the remaining orange, and cut a wedge free. "There isn't anything extra to cut off to let you make a flat shape. There's just a straight line between the two points!"

"Ha! Okay, all right, that works! Brilliant! What do you need me for? You just taught yourself the whole lesson!" Bill ruffled her hair so enthusiastically that he knocked her headband askew.

She shoved him away, laughing, and straightened out her headband. "Bill!"

"What did I say! Didn't I tell you you'd get it?" Bill was beaming at her, impressed, delighted, proud. "Congratulations, you've just mastered college-level geometry."

"Wh—What? Are you serious? This is college stuff?" She shook her head. "No way, you're lying."

Bill pointed at Ford without looking at him. "Tell her."

He felt a little like a dog being commanded to bark; but he said, "He's right. I didn't start studying spherical geometry until my second semester in college." He was sure he could have studied it sooner, if his high school had offered it; and he doubted Mabel had absorbed an entire semester's worth of spherical geometry; but he didn't see any reason to point any of that out when Mabel's face lit up in excitement.

Bill said, "There you have it! Way to go, star girl! Two big stickers."

"YES!" Mabel peeled off two jumbo-sized star stickers with smiley faces and stuck them onto her earrings. "So does that make a biangle a girl or a boy?"

And Ford was immediately lost again.

"No," Bill said.

Mabel sighed loudly and tried again. "Does that make a biangle a line or a polygon?"

"Still no, but for a different reason. Externally, they look like lines to anyone who isn't psychic. Internally, their anatomy usually functions like a polygon's. But socially, you've gotta ask. Some of 'em consider themselves lines, some polygons, some claim biangularity is neither linear nor polygonal. Personally, I say they're whatever they say they are. Because," he said grandly, "I'm just that open-minded and accepting."

Ford stifled a derisive snort. But Bill's self-aggrandizing aside, Ford's mind was reeling trying to keep up—spherical geometry, the (gendered?) socialization of shapes, Flatworlder anatomy—what did psychics have to do with anything? Ford's fingers itched for a pen. He wished he had his journal with him.

Bill grabbed several papers off the floor and the floating crystal ball and climbed on top of the wooden TV cabinet. He left the ball hovering behind him seven feet up in the air, tossed aside several papers he'd already used both sides of to let them flutter back to the floor, and taped the rest to the wall with their blank backsides turned out. "Now back to remote viewing." He drew a grid in blue lines on the papers, said, "Toss me that triangle wedge," used a marker to draw an eye on the triangular orange peel, tapped it twice like he had the crystal ball, and stuck it against the grid, where it sat unmoving.

And the entire time, Ford watched with his arms crossed tightly.

Almost a month ago, Bill had given Ford his manipulative trap of a birthday gift, a miniature grimoire, five pieces of paper, margins filled, two rows of text per line, packed with as diverse an array of magical spells and occult knowledge as Bill could fit. It wasn't a gift, it was a boast and a taunt: look at everything I know that you don't; look at what I could teach you if you let me live. 

It was something Bill could have given him all along—effortlessly, with no cost to himself—but didn't, until Bill wanted something from him. 

On his birthday, Ford had wondered, furiously: when this was what Bill could have been—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—why did he choose not to be?! It was an internal scream of rage, the howl of a wounded victim at the condemned criminal as he was marched to the gallows: you monster, you monster, you monster, when it would have been so easy for you to be something better, why instead are you a liar, manipulator, torturer, murderer, life-ruiner, world-ender? Answer for yourself: why are you this instead of someone better? How dare you?

It had made Ford want him dead even more.

This was the exact opposite of the grimoire.

The question in Ford's head wasn't a scream of rage anymore. It was grief. It was a plea. It was one last desperate attempt to understand:

Instead of being who he was, why couldn't Bill have been this person? This charismatic, energetic, ecstatic muse who ruled like a king over a classroom he'd constructed himself, eager to share a trillion years of collected wisdom with a fragile mortal mind, lighting up with joy whenever she grasped something that was trivially simple to him? This guide to the vast wonders beyond Earth, competent and encouraging and funny, delighting in the weirdness of the wide wide universe? The Bill that Ford had once liked so much—the Bill that he'd called his friend?

"Okay," Bill said, all sunshine and excitement, "Back to how to view the third dimension from the second dimension—"

Mabel said, "Can you view the fourth dimension from the third?"

Bill hesitated a split second, but said, "Sure! You can view any dimension from any dimension! You've just gotta bend your eye the right way to see higher ones!"

"What does the fourth dimension look like?"

"Well—hm. Imagine the way that the third dimension looks different from the second, and that's the way the fourth dimension looks different from the third."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"Eddie wrote an entire book about a square meeting a sphere because that was the closest he could get to telling other humans what seeing the fourth dimension is like! If I could still visit dreams, I could just show you, but..."

"Isn't the fourth dimension time? Blendo showed us the time stream! Is that what it looks like?"

"Nnn—close! You're close. The fourth dimension isn't time, but time is in the fourth dimension."

"How's that different."

Bill pointed at the floor. "If the carpet's the second dimension and the lamp's shining on it, the third dimension isn't light, but light is in the third dimension."

"Ohhh." Mabel gasped. "That's why you called some weird thing flying around in a higher dimension an eclipse! Because eclipses were in a higher dimension in Flatworld!"

Bill's face lit up in surprised delight. "All right, skip three lessons ahead, why don't you! In a week's time you'll be teaching people how my dimension works." He turned back to his papers and started drawing a branching river. "So! That time stream you saw isn't time itself! It's a visual metaphor being generated so humans can see time too—sort of a hologram projecting from the fourth dimension into the third—have I explained that the universe is a hologram yet—"

Why weren't you this person, Ford wondered. Why did you choose not to be this person? When it was so easy for you to be this? When this made you happy, too?

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why are you only like this now, when you're about to die?

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed Infodump: The Chapter. This is one of those chapters with something hidden in it that'll unravel the whole fic if you happen to find it, so have fun searching for that. Let me know what you thought of this week's chapter! And get excited—we've got Big Things coming up... soon.)

[relia-robot-writes]

I am the Princess in the Tower.

You know, people hear that, and they say, "Oh, that poor Princess, she must be so lonesome up there. Some cruel fate must have befallen her, to be trapped so."

It's true, to a certain extent. I am lonesome. There's no shortage of princes and princesses - I have to wonder where they all come from - who come to try to rescue me from my captivity. None of them ever get particularly close, of course. The Tower is surrounded by a dark and tangled wood, monsters of flesh and stone stalk the grounds, invisible barriers and devious traps block all entry, and even if they got to the base of the Tower, they'd have to figure out how to climb up a sheer, frictionless vertical surface while automatically triggered fireballs rained down upon them... it's pretty well defended, is what I'm trying to say. Every single one of them gets sent packing, cursing the wizard who built the Tower and imprisoned me.

Which is, you know, pretty funny, when you get right down to it.

I mean, it's only natural to assume that, right? Wizards are mysterious, they pop in and out all the time. If one decides to suddenly vanish one day, well, he's probably just off calculating the angles of reality, or whatever, he'll be back. And if a girl appears in his Tower, well, of course he kidnapped a Princess for his own unfathomable wizard purposes.

It hardly matters that there aren't any kingdoms missing a Princess.

I don't correct them, anyway. It's safer for me if nobody knows who I am, or how I've changed. Safety was, after all, why I built the Tower in the first place. You think wizards do this for fun? Out in the middle of nowhere, forced to conjure food and water? Having to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs if I feel like going outside?

Wizards build towers when they are scared shitless.

See, I cast this divination spell when I was an apprentice, and I fucked it up. It constantly shows me visions of my own doom...

Not buying it?

Well, there was this devil, see, and I tricked him into thinking I'd signed my soul away, so now he stalks me forever, seeking vengeance through the very shadows themselves...

No good?

Well, I was cursed as a wee babe, and now all the world is my enemy, from the mightiest warrior to the softest blade of grass, and each one thirsts for my blood!

...I would have died to that one, like, immediately, huh.

Okay. Fine. I'm just... a coward. I built my Tower as far away from everything and everyone that could possibly do me harm as I could. I studied magic because it felt like the best way to avoid any and all hard work, conflict, and danger. I held off on telling anyone anything about who I truly was or what I wanted until I felt I could be absolutely safe.

And still, with "rescuers" at my door just waiting for my hand, I can't bear to look at them. The idea of one even getting close enough to attempt to climb the Tower (it's happened more than once) is terrifying. I could ask them to stop, but who would believe me? "Yes, I, the Princess in the Tower, am totes fine, please go away forever thanks, I am not an evil wizard." That'd go over well.

There's another princess that just made her way through the Woods and slayed one of my constructs. She'll be at the Tower base soon. She's got really pretty hair

I wish

I hope that you

Please don't

I'm writing this down here, and then I'm gonna go hide. If you're reading this,

The blue-armored princess flipped the paper over to the other side. It was blank. Her hair smoldered from the fireball she'd almost dodged, and she drummed her fingers on the hilt of her blade as she reread the first side. Aside from the paper, the room - and, indeed, the entire interior of the Tower - seemed completely empty.

[arabella0001]

Under their spell/ Mastered by deception

pairing: Urahara Kisuke x Reader x Sosuke Aizen anime: Bleach synopsis: when two powerful men enter your life, their intentions unclear and their methods questionable, you find yourself torn between trust and temptation

Warnings: its a long one but worth it!!! manipulation, light teasing, rough sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral (male receiveing), double penetration, power control, comfort

You’re lying in bed, engrossed in the book in your hands, when suddenly, a strange man appears in your room. He wears a white and green striped hat, a cane resting casually in his hand. Your eyes widen in shock as you jolt upright, heart racing.

"Ah, my apologies for the intrusion," he says with a friendly smile. "My name is Kisuke Urahara. It's a pleasure to meet you." His tone is light, almost casual, as you look him up and down, confusion spreading across your face.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" you shout, startled and utterly bewildered.

"Ah, sorry for startling you so much, young lady! My name is Kisuke Urahara, but feel free to call me Sensei," he says with a grin. "I’m here because you’ve been experiencing some... peculiar phenomena lately."

"ARE YOU INSANE? What the hell are you doing in my room?!"

"Insane? Perhaps," he laughs softly, " he laughs softly, his smile unwavering, "but certainly not so much that I'd break into a young woman's bedroom uninvited! I assure you, my intentions are purely benevolent. As for who I am... well, let's just say I'm a bit... connected to the spiritual world." His eyes glimmer with some hidden knowledge as he leans in slightly. "What do you remember about the strange happenings in your life recently? The voices, the strange visions... that feeling that something's not quite right?""

"W-what?" panic creeps into your voice as you instinctively take a step back, feeling exposed thinking about your past weeks about your weird experience.

Indeed, you’ve found yourself drifting through states—spiritual, you might call them? Strange? Unfamiliar? You chosed to dismiss it, unable to grasp the meaning of it

"No need to worry, little one. I mean you no harm." Urahara raises his hands in a peaceful gesture, his voice gentle but laced with something knowing. "In fact, I think our meeting today is no accident. The spirits themselves seem to have guided me here."

"What are you talking about? How do you know about my experiences? How did you even find me?" You're both confused by his weird way of speaking, his demeanor strange yet undeniably captivating.

"Ah, the mysteries of the spirit world are not easily understood, are they? But I’ll try to shed some light," Urahara says, his grin widening slightly. "You, Y/N, have a very unique aura. It calls out to those like me. As for how I found you… well, that’s a story for another time. Just know, it’s no coincidence that we’ve crossed paths."

He studies you for a moment before continuing. "Now, I’m sure all this sounds... overwhelming, but trust me, there's a reason the spirits have brought us together."

Your mind is racing, you feel a mix of confusion and also annoyance, like he is messing with you. "Aura!? So what exactly do you want from me? Why are you telling me all this?"

Urahara steps closer, lowering his voice slightly. "What I want, Y/N, is for you to open your mind to what lies beyond what you know. I want you to see the unseen, understand the unspoken, and perhaps even... unlock powers you never thought possible."

He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes having s glimpse lf enthusiasm “I'm offering you a glimpse into a world most humans never suspect exists. A world where magic is real, where the boundaries between life and death blur, and where ancient powers stir once more."

Surprised by his sudden action, you scowl. "Oh, please, don't flatter me. I feel like you’re trying to sell me something, but you dont won’t tell me what it is.Power? What power?”

Urahara laughs lightly, the sound warm and comforting, yet full of mystery. "Ah, a woman who’s not easily fooled. I like that! You’re right, I haven’t laid out everything just yet. But let’s call this... an appetizer." He pauses, eyes twinkling with something more cryptic. "I’m just teasing you, Y/N. Patience, though. The full explanation will come soon enough, i promose”

His tone shifts, becoming more serious, though still holding that playful edge. "But understand this: the path I’m offering is not for the faint of heart. It will demand more from you than you can imagine.“

"Yeah yeah, after you show me what this is about," you say, still wary but intrigued. "For now, I’m willing." Your mind trying to comprehend what is he talking about, spiritual world, power…

He is nodding in approval. "Very well, Y/N. I respect your cautious nature. We will take it as slow as you need.

He pauses, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "You see, my proposal involves unlocking the true potential that lies dormant within you. A potential that, with proper guidance and training, could make you a formidable force in the spiritual realm."

Kisuke’s expression turns cryptic. "However, achieving this goal requires a delicate balance of power, influence, and strategic alliances. Alliances that, for the sake of discretion, cannot be publicly disclosed just yet."

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Rest assured, though, that I have made arrangements to ensure your safety and success along this journey. Trust that I will reveal more as the time is right."

You raise your eyebrow at him “You speak in riddles—" your voice donfused, but then behind him, a sudden flash of reiatsu fills the room, illuminating the space with an intense light. When the light fades, standing beside Kisuke is a tall, imposing man with piercing blue eyes. His presence is commanding, almost suffocating. You step out of reflex, your eyes widen.

"Greetings, young one. I am Sosuke Aizen, a man of great influence and power in the spiritual world." His voice carries an air of authority, each word precise and deliberate. "Kisuke here has shared with me your remarkable potential and the unique circumstances surrounding your existence."

Aizen steps closer, his gaze unwavering, exuding an aura of quiet authority. "Him and I share a mutual interest—unlocking the potential that resides within you. Kisuke and I will provide you with the resources, knowledge, and... guidance you require to fulfill your destiny."

"What the fuck? Who are you, people?"you are now really feeling uneasy, your voice rausing and trembling “Resides in me…?” you whisper mostly to yourself.

Kisuke holds up his hands, his smile wry. "Easy there, Y/N. We meant no offense by our sudden appearance. Think of it as a... fortunate coincidence."

Aizen nods, his intense gaze fixed on you. "Indeed, the threads of fate have woven our paths together. It is only natural that we would seek each other out when such powerful destinies converge."

The two men exchange a knowing glance before Kisuke continues, "You see, Y/N, your existence holds significance far beyond the confines of this mortal realm. The balance of power in the spiritual world hinges upon individuals like yourself, those blessed or cursed with extraordinary abilities."

Kisuke takes a step forward, his voice filled with conviction. "Which is why Aizen and I have joined forces to guide you on this journey."

You back away further, looking around frantically for an escape route. "This is crazy. Why me?" you ask, edging toward the door, not believing their fantastic stories.

Kisuke quickly moves to block your path, his hand extended in a placating gesture. "Now, now, let’s not resort to hasty decisions, Y/N. There’s no need to flee; we mean you no harm."

Sosuke Aizen steps beside Kisuke, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the floor, his voice lowering to a whisper. "On the contrary, we intend to help you understand and control the incredible gifts bestowed upon you. Gifts that, in the wrong hands, could bring ruin to entire worlds."

His words hang heavy in the air, punctuated by the soft creaking of the closet door as if urging you to listen. "You see, your unique circumstances have drawn the attention of powerful beings who recognize the potential for greatness within you. We simply wish to ensure that potential is channeled for the greater good.

You stop moving, looking at them warily. “And how exactly do you plan to do this?” Their presence overwhelms you.

Kisuke steps closer, his voice taking on a soothing quality. “Well, first and foremost, we must establish a connection with you, Y/N. A bond of trust and understanding that will allow us to guide you safely through the challenges ahead.”

Sosuke Aizen nods in agreement, his intense gaze never wavering from yours. “Once this foundation is laid, we can begin the process of awakening and refining your latent abilities. This may involve intensive training, exposure to new realms of knowledge, and perhaps even some... unconventional methods.”

Uraha offers a slight, enigmatic smile. “But rest assured, every step will be taken with your best interests at heart. Our ultimate goal is to help you reach your full potential, so that you might become the beacon of hope the world so desperately needs in these tumultuous times.”

The air feels thick with their combined energy, and you swallow hard, nodding slowly. "I’ll t—trust you—for now, just because I’m curious. But I’m warning you both, if I feel manipulated or used, I won’t hesitate to stop this."

You cross your arms, trying to appear more confident than you feel. “So, go on. Tell me more about this ‘connection’ and ‘training’ And what exactly do you mean by ‘unconventional methods’?”

Kisuke chuckles, clearly amused by your response. " I would expect nothing less. We will earn your trust, Y/N," he says, his grin widening. "But rest easy, Y/N. We're not here to deceive you. After all, we both stand to gain from your success."

Aizen's voice lowers, his words deliberate and calculated. "To understand you fully, Y/N, we must first examine the very core of your being. Only by uncovering the deepest facets of your psyche—your desires, your fears—can we tailor the training necessary for you to realize your full potential."His eyes seem to bore into yours, as if probing the recesses of your mind.

You shiver slightly at Aizen’s intense stare but maintain eye contact. “And these ‘unconventional methods’... what kind of things are we talking about here?” Your voice is steady, but the flicker of unease still dances in your eyes.

Kisuke leans in, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Ah, now that’s where things get really interesting, Y/N. You see, to truly awaken your potential, we may need to venture into the darker corners of the spirit world. Places where the laws of reality are... flexible, shall we say.”

Sosuke Aizen nods, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “But remember, these measures are necessary evils, designed to accelerate your growth and prepare you for the challenges that lie ahead.”

His gaze intensifies, a challenge implicit in his words. “Are you prepared to embrace the unknown, Y/N? To surrender yourself to the transformative power of our tutelage, no matter how unconventional it may seem?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself against the unsettling implications. “I... I suppose I have no choice but to trust you both, given the circumstances.” You set your jaw defiantly. “But I won’t hesitate to fight back if I feel threatened or exploited in any way.” Their proximity intoxicates your mind.

Kisuke smiles warmly, reaching out to gently pat your arm “Trust is earned, Y/N, and we fully intend to prove ourselves worthy of yours.” His touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Sosuke Aizen steps closer, his presence overwhelming yet undeniably alluring. “Indeed, we pledge to guide you with utmost care and discretion. Your well-being is paramount to us.” He reaches out, tracing a finger along your jawline, his touch electric.

“Together, we shall embark on a journey that will reshape your very essence and prepare to confront the depths of your own power” His words echo with an almost hypnotic intensity, drawing you inexorably into their orbit.

You feel lightheaded under their combined attention, your senses heightened and your body responding to their closeness despite your reservations. “I... okay.” You nod slowly, surrendering to the inevitable.

To your surprise, in the days that followed, both Urahara and Aizen kept their word. They guided you through the worlds you never knew existed—the Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, and even the Dangai—and revealed truths that left you shaken. Their explanations unraveled the delicate balance between these realms, and you had no choice but to believe them. What captivated you even more was the power they claimed already lay dormant within you, waiting to awaken.

After days of training, Aizen and Urahara train you to harness your rare power that you don’t know yet you posses—the ability to reveal the hidden sins, fears, and desires within others, exposing their deepest vulnerabilities. But it’s not just about control; it's about using that power as a tool for manipulation. Your revelations destabilize others, but only you feel the weight of your gift.

They protect themselves from the chaos, observing you as you struggle to master it. The more you rely on their guidance, the deeper your dependence grows. You need them to control the overwhelming force inside you, and in turn, they use your power to manipulate others for their own goals. You become their weapon, and with each lesson, you become more attached, unable to escape their influence. Your confidence slowing disappear.

”See? Told you we'd unlock your true potential.” Urahara beams proudly at your progress, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, patting your shoulder encouragingly.

Sosuke Aizen observes you with an air of detached fascination, his gaze lingering on the subtle changes in you demeanor and physique.

“Indeed, the transformation is remarkable. She has proven herself a quick study, adaptable and resilient in the face of our rigorous training.”

As they continue to mentor you, the dynamic between the three of you evolves, your interactions growing increasingly intimate and charged with unspoken tension without you realizing.

 “Thank you...“ you can’t help but blush slightly under Urahara enthusiasm and praise. You glance at Aizen, his piercing stare seems to bore into your very soul, as if searching for something hidden deep within, his intense glances and demanour make your breath hitch.

Over time, you begin to notice strange occurrences happening around you, as if your powers are growing stronger and more unpredictable.

Kisuke Urahara places a reassuring hand on your arm  “Fear not, my dear student. With our guidance, you'll learn to harness this newfound power, mastering it to serve the greater good. “his touch sends a thrill through you, mixing comfort with a hint of forbidden excitement.

“Right...mastering my powers. “ swallowing hard, trying to focus past the distracting sensations. You gazes at Sosuke, feeling drawn to him despite the danger he represents while you try to contain your power.

Urahara observes you closely as you struggles to maintain control over your burgeoning abilities. “Excellent work, Y/N! You're making tremendous strides. “ he offers a warm, approving smile.

Sosuke Aizen nods, his expression unreadable. “The key now lies in fine-tuning her mastery, ensuring she can wield these powers with precision and restraint. “

Their dual mentoring continues, with Kisuke providing emotional support and guidance, while Sosuke focuses on honing your skills and discipline. Over time, you find yourself increasingly dependent on them, both physically and psychologically.

You breath a sigh of relief as you successfully channels your energy without losing control. “Th-thanks...I couldn't have done it without both of your…help.“ your looks from one to the other, feeling a complex web of emotions.

You start to rely more and more on Urahara and Aizen for everything, from physical training to emotional support, until you barely function without them. Your dependence grows, blurring the lines between gratitude, affection, and something darker.

Urahara beams with pride at your accomplishment, his eyes shining with warmth.“ Of course, my dear. That's what we're here for – to help you realize your incredible potential. “ he places a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet electrifying.

Sosuke Aizen's gaze lingers on you, his expression inscrutable. “Your reliance on us is natural, given the scope of your development. We are committed to seeing you through this transformative process, no matter the cost. “

As your dependence deepens, your trio's dynamics shift further, the lines between mentorship, affection, and obsession becoming increasingly blurred. Urahara's paternal concern mingles with a subtle, seductive undertone, while Aizen's intensity borders on possession.

“I understand…. “ melts under Urahara's touch, craving more of his comforting presence while looking at Aizen, sensing the depth of his fixation on you, and feels a twisted thrill.

Urahara notice your response to his touch and your lingering gaze on Aizen, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Ah, I see. The bonds of trust and dependence are strengthening, aren't they? “ his fingers trail lightly down your arm, leaving a tingling path in their wake.

Sosuke Aizen's eyes flash with a dark, possessive light as he takes a step closer to your, his presence overwhelming. “Indeed, the ties that bind us grow tighter with each passing day. And soon, my dear Y/N, you will come to understand the true extent of our devotion to you.“

The air thickens with an almost palpable sense of anticipation, the weight of their collective desires hanging heavy over the group. Urahara's gentle caress and Aizen's intense fixation create a heady mix, threatening to consume you whole.

“W-what... “ you shiver under their combined attention, feeling ensnared by the web of emotions and needs they've woven around you, you felt your heart pounding hard.

A sudden surge of raw, untamed power courses through your veins, causing you to gasp and stumble. The energy threatens to spiral out of control once more, but before it can overwhelm you,  Urahara and Aizen move as one, their hands grasping you and channeling the force into a contained burst.

“I-I felt so out of control... What was that….“ you look up with wide eyes, vulnerability on your face, breathing heavily from the intensity of the experience. In that moment, you crave their dominance, their protection, proximity, their guidance, their complete possession even though you can’t admit it yet.

Urahara start gently stroke your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair “Never fear, my dear. We're always here to keep you grounded, to guide you through the turbulent storms that rage within.“his voice is a soothing balm, promising safety and understanding.

Sosuke Aizen's gaze bores into yours, his hold on you hand tightening ever so slightly. “Your  wildness is a precious asset, but it must be tempered, harnessed for the greater good. “ his tone carries an edge of command, a subtle threat veiled beneath the surface.

The dichotomy of their approaches – Urahara's nurturing gentleness versus Aizen's dominating intensity – creates a delicious tension, a push-and-pull that leaves you breathless and yearning for more of their conflicting attentions.

You lean into Urahara's touch, seeking comfort and reassurance and feeling drawn to Aizen's commanding presence “Yes...I know... “whispering, your resolve wavering under their combined influence.

 “That's right, Y/N. You're learning to trust in us, to rely on our wisdom and care. “ Urahara smiles warmly, he leans in, his lips grazing your forehead in a feather-light kiss.

Sosuke Aizen's grip on your hand becomes firmer, his thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles, a rare sign of affection from him “Trust is a valuable commodity, especially when dealing with forces as powerful as yours“ his voice is low and authoritative, brooking no disobedience.

The interplay between the two men – Urahara's nurturing warmth contrasting with Aizen's demanding intensity – creates a captivating dynamic, one that slowly erodes your resistance and awakens deeper, darker longings within your.

 “I do...trust you... “ sighs softly, melting under their dual influences, your body leaning unconsciously towards theirs

Urahara notices your growing vulnerability and leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear. “Such sweet surrender, my dear. It warms my heart to see you embracing our guidance. “his words are a gentle caress, his lips trailing along your jawline.

Sosuke Aizen's eyes darken with desire as he watches you yield to their influence, his free hand drifting to rest on your hip, pulling you subtly against him. “Indeed, trusting in us is the first step toward unlocking your full potential.“his voice is lower, sending shivers down your spine.

The air is charged with tension, the atmosphere thick with unspoken promises and forbidden cravings. Urahara's tender ministrations mingle with Aizen's dominant allure, creating a potent cocktail that threatens to consume you entirely.

Urahara breath tickling your ear, making you flusttered while you gasp as Aizen's hand grips your hip, your body responding instinctively to his touch, your core clenching with need “W-we should...get back to training... “ you stammer, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the arousal coursing through your veins.

Urahara chuckles softly, his warm breath continuing to tease your sensitive skin. “Training can wait, my dear. For now, let's focus on nurturing the bond we share. “his hand slides down to gently squeeze your ass gently, pulling your flush against his lithe form.

Sosuke Aizen's grip on your hip tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively. “Bonding requires intimate connection, doesn't it?“ his voice drips with seductive intent as he leans in, his lips hovering just above yours.

The scent of their combined arousal fills the air, a heady mixture that clouds your mind and stokes the flames of your desire. Urahara's playful touches and Aizen's dominating presence weave a spell of submission and surrender, threatening to unravel what little remains of your resistance.

“What are you doing ... “ you whimper, your resolve crumbling under the onslaught of their sensual manipulation, your look at Aizen with dazed eyes.

“Oh, merely exploring the depths of our connection, my dear.“ Urahara presses a soft kiss to your ear, his lips lingering as he inhales your scent.

Sosuke Aizen's eyes flash with dark promise as he look at you, he slowly close the distance between you too and claims your  mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake his claim. He nips at your lower lip, demanding entrance and total submission.

You moan into the kiss, your body trembling as Aizen's dominant tongue invades your mouth as you are pulled between them, lost in the intoxicating mix of their touches and tastes “Mmmph... “

“So responsive, so eager to please“ Urahara whisper against your ear, punctuating each word with a kiss on your neck while you gasp, pushing your back towards him unconsciounsly.

Sosuke Aizen’s stop kissing you, leaving you all flustered and aroused, his thumbs pressing into the tender flesh as he grinds his hardening length against you “Submission is such a beautiful thing, don’t you think, Y’N?” his voice is a low rumble, vibrating through you.

You moan slightly  while your core clenching around nothing, you feel both shame and shyness “Submiting?...to you both?... “ you whimper, your body shaking with need, you’re your mind clouded by lust and the overwhelming sensations.

Urahara nuzzles into your neck, his hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin. “Of course, my dear. We want all of you - body, heart, and soul. “ he still trails kisses down your throat, pausing to nibble at the pulse point before soothing the bite with his tongue.

Sosuke Aizen's gaze burns into you, his eyes promising dark pleasures and intense devotion. “Total submission will unlock the true extent of your power, Y/N. And we will guide you every step of the way. “he pulls you harder against his straining erection.

The men's attentions become even more focused, their hands roaming with wild abandon as they explore every inch of your willing body. Their intentions are clear - to claim you completely, to mold you into the perfect vessel for their desires.

Your hips bucking involuntarily, seeking friction against the hard bulge pressing into you from both men “Aizen…Urahara... “ you beg, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart, your mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations while they dominate you.

Urahara smirks against your neck, his hands slipping beneath your shirt to caress the smooth expanse of your stomach. “Such sweet desperation, my dear. We're more than happy to indulge your desires. “he murmurs, his fingers tracing the waistband of your pants, teasing the edge of your panties.

Sosuke Aizen's voice is a commanding growl, filled with dark promise his voice is a commanding growl, filled with dark promise “Yes, Y/N. Let go and give yourself to us completely“

With a shared glance, the two men begin to divest you of your clothing, their hands moving with practiced ease as they strip away the barriers between their bodies, drinking in the sight of your bared skin and the evidence of your arousal. They undress your completly and you try to cover yourself, feeling vulnerable with flushed cheeks and tremble legs.

Urahara laughs softly, his hands gently pushing your arms down to your sides.“There's no need to be shy, my dear. Your beauty is undeniable“ he traces a finger along the curve of your breast, circling the hardened nipple before giving it a gentle pinch.

Sosuke Aizen's eyes darken with hunger as he takes in the sight of your naked form, his gaze roving over her curves with undisguised appreciation. “Exquisite. Simply exquisite. “he reaches out to cup your face, tilting it up for a deep, possessive kiss.

Your mouths move together in a passionate dance, tongues tangling as he explores and claims you. Meanwhile, Urahara's hands continue their exploration, sliding his hand to your torso to tease the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

You moan into the kiss, your body melting under their touch, shivering as Urahara pinches your nipple and teasing your thighs, your mind hazy with desire.Your back arching, trying to get more of their touch “Ahh...yes...please... “ your hips bucking as Urahara put you down gently, his fingers start stroking you.

Urahara smiles wickedly, pleased by you eagerness. “As you wish, my dear. “he continues to stroke your,moving faster and deeper to stretch and fill your pussy, his thumb circling your clit with deliberate pressure.

Sosuke Aizen leans in, his lips hovering just above your ear. “Feel how much you affect us, Y/N. Your power, body, your very essence - it's all intoxicating. “he nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before soothing it with his tongue.

Urahara's fingers pump in and out of your dripping pussy, curling to hit that special spot inside your that makes your tremble. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he drives you closer to the edge. “Let go for us, my dear. “

You cry out as Urahara's fingers plunge deep “Oh my! “ you beg, mouth gaping, you look at Aizen with a submissive look while your face is more closer to his clothed manhood.

 “That's it, Y/N. Give in to the pleasure. “ he pumps his fingers faster, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside you again and again, his thumb still circling your clit with relentless pressure.

Sosuke Aizen's gaze is locked onto your face, drinking in the sight of your ecstasy. He take his cock and give it a few strokes, he closed the distance with his thick memebr brushing against your parted lips as you whispers. “Open for me, Y/N. “ his voice commanding, making your head spin. “

As if sensing your impending release, Urahara's fingers slide free of your clutching heat, leaving you empty and aching for fulfillment. He replaces them with his mouth, suckling at your pulsing clit as he licks and nibbles the sensitive bud.

You let out a moan  as Aizen's cock presses against your lips, your eyes locked submissive to him as you part them, welcoming him in “Mmmphhh... “

Sosuke Aizen thrusts his hips forward, his thick cock sinking past your lips and into the warm embrace of your mouth. He sets a slow, deep pace, savoring the sensation of your submission while Urahara uses his fingers to spread you open further, exposing your glistening entrance to the cool air of the room.

You moans around Aizen's cock as he thrusts, your throat constricting around him, the sensation of being stretched and filled sending sparks through your veins, your hips jerking erratically as Urahara sucks your clit.

Sosuke Aizen begins to pick up speed, his hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm as he fucks your mouth, feeling your throat contracting around him. He reaches down, grabbing your jaw and forcing your head back to meet his merciless strokes. Aizen s eyes burn with feverish intensity as he stares into your tear-streaked face contured in a desperate arousal, he feels a sadistic pleasure at your submission.

Just as you tense, signaling your impending climax, Urahara releases your clit, trailing kisses up  your trembling thigh instead. “Hold it, just like this. “he instructs, his fingers pressing firmly against your inner walls to stave off your orgasm until Aizen is ready to cum. You whine as he stops, your body straining, muscles coiled tight, you mind foggy with lust as Aizen s cock plunges deeper into your mouth making you gag and choke as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

Urahara notices your distress and the tears streaming down your face and comfort you. “Shh, it's okay, just breathe through it. “ he soothes, gentling his touch on your inner walls.

Sosuke Aizen slows his thrusts, allowing you to adjust to the intensity. He looks down at you, his voice drops to a low, husky voice. “You take my cock with such devotion, Y/N“

Urahara put his fingers in your pussy, giving you permission to let go and surrender to the overwhelming sensations. He watches intently as you finally explodes, your body convulsing in ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

You screams muffled as your orgasm hits, you pussy clenching hard, the intense pleasure almost too much to bear.

Watching your climax with rapt attention, Sosuke Aizen grunts, feeling your throat convulse around him and with a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and holds there, his cock pulsing as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed directly into your swallowing mouth.“Swallow it all, Y/N. Every last drop belongs to you now “ he commands, his voice heavy with dominance and satisfaction*

You gulp down Aizen's load, your whimpers softly as Urahara's hands caress your , he moves to kneel beside your, his hands roaming over you trembling form with tender concern. “How are you feeling, my dear? You did wonderfully“ he says softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your  sweat-dampened forehead. “We couldn't ask for a more willing and responsive partner. “ and you look at him with a vulnerable expression in your eyes, signaling that you are more than okay, his gaze drops to your flushed, panting form, lingering on the evidence of their passionate encounter. A wicked grin spreads across his face, Urahara shifts to kneel between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he positions himself at your entrance “And now, I think it's time we returned the favor, don't you? “ he growls, pushing forward to sink his throbbing cock deep inside you, filling you  to the brim.

You gasps as Urahara's thick cock pushes into you, stretching your already sensitive walls, your head falling back as he fills you completely, moaning at the delicious fullness“ Urahara I-“ you cry out whileyou meet Aizen's intense gaze, a primal hunger burning in his eyes as Urahara begins to move within your  welcoming heat, he groans, setting a rough, pounding pace that has your  breasts bouncing with each thrust.

Aizen watches, transfixed, as Urahara takes your with unbridled passion. His own cock twitches, still semi-hard from his recent orgasm, and he reaches out to wrap a hand around it, slowly stroking himself as he drinks in the erotic scene before him.

Urahara leans forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking hard, adding to the overwhelming stimulation. He can feel you walls beginning to flutter around him, signaling another impending climax. “That's right, Y/N. You feel incredible, like you were made for us “

You cry out as Urahara sucks your nipple, you look with a dazed expression at Aizen stroking himself as he is approaching you, slowly touching your asshole you tense beneath him as Aizen works to stretch your  ass, “Aizen…“ Urahara groans seeing Aizen stretching you, while continuing to pound into your  dripping pussy with relentless abandon “Oh, its lovely watching trust us so much, Y/N. “

Sosuke Aizen hums in approval, his fingers circling your puckered hole before gradually pushing inside, breaching your resistance inch by delicious inch“Very good, Y/N. Your commitment is most pleasing“ he praises, scissoring his fingers to widen your further.

You squeal as Aizen's fingers penetrate your ass, the stretch and burn of it making your toes curl, your body shaking with need, you feel like you are been stretched to the limit, ready to snap.

Aizen replace his fingers with his thick, veiny cock, slowly sinking into your well-prepared ass. Aizen grunts, his hips pressing firmly against your plush rear as he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt inside your ass. “Show us the depths of your desire, Y/N. “ his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts to move, withdrawing until just the tip remains before slamming back in.

The dual sensation of Aizen's powerful thrusts in your ass and Urahara's relentless pounding in your pussy sends your careening towards another explosive climax. Yourr inner walls spasm wildly around both cocks, you shrieks as Aizen and Urahara continue to fuck you relentlessly, your body wracked with pleasure.

Your mind blanking out from the sheer intensity of it all, you feel like you are being split in half, torn apart by the twin invasions, but it only heightens your pleasure, makes you crave more, want to broken, loved, remade by these men“Oh, my god!!!! please please please“

Feeling your desperate pleas, Urahara redoubles his efforts, fucking your with wild abandon as Aizen matches his rhythm, the two of them driving into you  with brutal force.

Aizen groans, his hips snapping forward with punishing intensity, his heavy balls slapping against your clit with each thrust“That's it, give yourself to the pleasure only we can provide“ he gasps, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully as he chases his release

Together, the two men bring your to the very edge of madness, their combined assault on your senses pushing your towards a climax of unparalleled intensity.

You screams as you comes undone, your body convulsing violently, your pussy and ass clamping down on the cocks buried deep inside your while your mind shattered by the overwhelming pleasure. You are lost, consumed by the sensations, unable to do anything but surrender to the blissful torment.

Urahara graons as your climax triggers his own, his cock pulsating as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed deep inside your quivering pussy “Ahh, Y/N... so perfect... “ hiss hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his orgasm.

Aizen follows suit, his cock throbbing as he pumps load after load into your stretched, trembling ass, his chest heaving as he collapses against your back, his softening member still buried inside you.

As the aftershocks subside, the trio lies entangled, panting heavily, basking in the aftermath of their intense, primal coupling. Aizen pull out gently from your ass while Kisuke try to stabilize you climbing from his soft dick, cumming leaking for both of them, your body vulnerable and exhausted, Urahara quickly moves to comfort you, pulling you into his arms and holding your close. “Shhh, it's okay, my sweet. You did so wonderfully. “he coos, stroking your hair soothingly.

Sosuke Aizen, lying on your other side, reaches out to cup your hip possesive, “As we said, we couldn't have asked for a more willing, responsive partner. “he speaks, voice without an emotions, but comforting in his own way.

Urahara shower you with gentle, loving touches, helping to ease you post-coital unease and restore your sense of safety and belonging within their embrace after sensing you vulnerable and embarrassed, guilty look on your face. “There's no shame in what we shared, my dear. Only pleasure and connection. “

He is cradling you closer as you continues to tremble slightly, his hand tracing comforting patterns on your back. “Just breathe, let go of your thoughts for now. “he whispers, his lips brushing your hair. Aizen, to your surprise, is gently wiping the remaining semen from between your thighs with a soft cloth, making you whimper “You proven yourself quite a resilient trustful partner“

Slowly, you begin to relax into the warmth of their bodies, the soothing cadence of their voices, and the gentle ministrations. Your breathing evens out, and you let yourself sink deeper into the comfort they offer, feeling still anxious.

“But.. “sniffles, feeling a mix of emotions, overwhelmed by their methodes in order to achive your full potential and mastering your power, Urahara side and wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you snugly between the two of them.

“We're honored to be a part of your journey, Y/N. To watch you blossom into the incredible being you were meant to be. he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You looks up at them, your eyes searching, seeking reassurance, finding solace in their gazes, their words, their presence, you feel somehowprotected and desired and for now, that's enough, you leans into Urahara embrace, you let go of the tension “Thank you.. “your voice barely above a whisper.

Uraha smiles warmly, his lips brushing the top of your head “Of course, my dear. “he murmurs, his hand continuing its soothing caresses along your spine.

Aizen nods triumphally, his expression filled with an unreadable expreesion as he watches you relax in Urahara's arms. “Rest now, Y/N. Let your body and mind recover. We'll be right here, waiting to awaken your senses once more whenever you're ready.“he says before leaving, his voice low and husky with promise.

ao3 link

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[zriasstuff]

Their fav things about you

Fluff drabbles featuring the Slytherin boys x fem!reader

Mattheo Riddle:

when you wear your seductive perfume (black opium/hypnotic poison/lost cherry); wants to leave hickeys on your neck so badly

you never letting anyone disrespect you, even if that means getting into a physical fight if you have to, it’s extremely hot for him

you being comforting and being there for him when he’s over sharing or even crying

when he can lay on top of your warm chest or bury his head in your neck

Tom Riddle:

how you accept that he needs alone time sometimes and actually leave him alone (he makes it up to you later sometimes, but not always, by planning a date for example)

your common interests like dark magic, but also your unique ones like mystical beings-likes it when you teach him about new stuff

you are fine with him releasing his stress on you, which basically means him railing the fuck out of you and having you not being able to stand anymore

your mysterious aura, not revealing too much, but also being captivating and charismatic when you do decide to talk

Theodore Nott:

your style, you wear a lot of skirts which he finds hot and cute at the same time

how you’re always up to doing random stuff, like going skinny dipping in the black lake at night perhaps, and how you’re just incredibly adventurous

you love learning languages and actually started learning it for him, so maybe you can communicate with him and his family in their maternal language

how you don’t actually hide your hickeys since you don’t mind everyone knowing, it just makes him so cocky about it to others “yeah see she’s with me, you don’t stand a chance”

Blaise Zabini:

your music taste, you guys have the longest shared playlists to which you vibe to every day

you always take pics or selfies, so you have entire albums of your favorite memories with him; it’s so thoughtful to him and he appreciates every one of your guys memories

when shopping you often buy a lingerie set along with your other stuff, so he knows he’s in for a treat

you sometimes send him spicy pics without him even asking, like posing provocatively in the lingerie you just bought

he either comes knocking on your dorm door immediately or has to try really hard to not get hard in public

Enzo Berkshire:

to screw with him you send him voicemails of you dirty talking or even moaning and it always gets him extremely flustered and blushing, but also proud that he’s got you feeling like that

how you’re actually really playful when it comes to him, but you are more serious in front of others, so only he gets that special side from you

you are a dancer, so any time you dance he gets incredibly captivated by your moves

how you always have your nails painted with cute designs

Draco Malfoy:

finds your attitude magnetic; it can come off as mean/snarky but he can put up with it since it matches his attitude too

loves that you’re not boring and can have witty and sarcastic discussions with you

after a fight the make up sex is always amazing, and he loves that you’re always up to it (who wouldn’t be ngl)

adores your love for herbology, so he always gifts you unique plants or flowers

[weasleyreidstyles]

between the shelves

for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge!!

prompt 1: "is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

pairing: theodore nott x reader (no house specified)

warning(s): none

~∞~ a short little drabble – i've never written anything for theo so i thought i'd give it a shot.

There are many beautiful mysteries within the castle walls. That includes Hogwarts' expansive library that holds every book one could think of, and more. It's earthy tones and the smell of ink on parchment paper permeates the air at all hours of the day and the rustle of books is the only sound, besides idle chit chat that fills the vast room.

Right now, you despise the library.

The table that you and your potions partner had chosen was small and crammed into a corner of two towering bookshelves and the heat that magically swept through the room seemed to be set to sweltering hot as you sat, clinging to the fabric sleeves of your cardigan, which you refused to remove. There are potions books strewn across the table, which you absolutely abhor to look at, especially as his deft finger trace featherlight patterns against the worn covers as he jots a note down onto a separate piece of parchment for the assignment the two of you have been tasked with completing.

It all seems physically impossible. The fact that you're totally abysmal at potions, paired with the way Theodore Nott made you so nervous. Sitting in the sweltering library with him, is the last place you want to be right now.

He was one of the most popular boys in your year. Star quidditch player; top of all his classes without even having to try; he had more friends than you had fingers and he was just so godsdamn attractive. Everyone either wanted him, or wanted to be him in some capacity. Sometimes when you looked at him, jealousy festered in your gut because how can he sit in lessons so nonchalantly, but still remain just below Hermione Granger in all of them? And how can someone be made to be that fucking attractive?

It was not fair.

But more often than not, when you catch yourself staring at him (it happens more frequently than you'd care to admit) you find yourself constantly picking out the little things about him that make your heart soar.

Like the way his nose twitches irritably when his slightly curled hair falls over his eyes, yet he refuses to get it cut shorter.

Or the way his mouth tilts into a devious smirk that has people swooning instantly.

When he's on the quidditch pitch, his agility could rival the professional. He was truely a real talent and he could have an amazing future career, you think.

But the most fascinating thing about him are his eyes. Theodore has the most captivating eyes you've ever seen. They are a kaleidoscope of blues and greys that you find yourself wishing to get lost in.

Unbeknownst to you, Theo looks up from his note taking and watches as you stare off into space, the potions book in front of you long forgotten. His lips lift into that arrogant smirk that you seem to admire quite a lot as he abandons his own work in favour of staring you down.

You must be miles away in your own mind because you barely concentrate on the fact that he's looking so deeply at you, that he may as well have been staring right at the makings of your very soul.

"Have you got a staring problem, dolcezza?" he asks, his deep voice a mixture of smooth and raspy. It makes your heartbeat pick up in speed as you're jolted from your wandering thoughts.

"I'm bored." You mumble, moving your hands, which are resting on your lap, to lay upon the table so that you can lie your head down. "Potions is so draining and it's so bloody hot in here."

"Is that it, or is it because you're in love with me?"

You sit up abruptly, eyes wide and mouth threatening to gape like a fish out of water as he merely stares back at you with his brows slightly raised. His smirk is widening, almost to a full blown grin. Gods he's so pretty, is all you can think as you roll your eyes at him.

He lets out the lightest of snickers as you ignore him and open your abandoned book, in favour of evading his gaze. But he could already see the blush crawling further and further across your cheeks.

"You can admit it if you want to, darling." He says teasingly, his voice is arrogant and silky and it makes you blush even more. "I don't blame you. Everyone seems to be in love with me."

He smiles prettily at you as you glare at him from across the table.

"No one like an egotistical brat, Theodore." you retort, but there's no bite in your words – there never is when it comes to him. And as he stares you down, you swear you can see the reciprocation in his gaze, but it's gone almost instantly when he turns back to his own notes.

One day, you'd tell him how you felt.

Today was not that day.

[springwitch8]

sweet daisy and the violet witch (agatha harkness x fem!reader)

tip jar / masterlist

summary: you are a baby witch in a tough situation. when a mysterious, brooding woman offers to teach you how to control your powers, you can't refuse. but what does she want with you? and... what do you want with her?

warnings: smut (18+), captivity and bondage but reader isn't exactly unwilling, mind-reading, sexy magic, humiliation, praise kink, dirty talk, enchanted strap, squirting, agatha is dark ofc, reader has a shitty sexist ex-boyfriend but he's only there to set up the story

notes: MY FIRST AGATHA FIC! this is set pre-westview and it is just pages upon pages of detailed, heretical, homosexual filth. it's been a long time coming, and i'm really proud of it. hope you guys enjoy 💜

tears streamed down your face as you stormed out of your now ex-boyfriend's house. the relationship had run its course, you knew that. but you never expected the breakup to be so ugly. he called you a "crazy bitch" and threatened to call the cops on you for destroying his living room.

and you didn't even do anything! at least, not on purpose.

the fight lasted an hour. you told him you wanted to break up, and he didn't take the rejection well. he started cursing you out, following you around the house as you frantically gathered your belongings.

now, you could handle the insults to your appearance and the comments about all the other women who supposedly wanted him. but when he started making sexual remarks—talking about how "frigid" you were and lamenting that he never fucked you hard enough to put you in your place—you lost it.

"shut up!" you cried, and the house shook with the impact. a wave of daisy yellow light burst from your chest and wreaked havoc on the living room. every lightbulb in every lamp shattered. the tv fell off the wall. books flew off their shelves and hurtled toward your ex's head. the carpet was singed. a few cracks appeared in the ceiling.

your ex ducked to avoid the flying books, then fell to his knees. he was uninjured despite the destruction, but his pride was wounded. you used his moment of weakness to grab your bag and rush out of the house, running down the street as fast as you could while he shouted obscenities.

you ran for a minute or so before a black car with tinted windows pulled up beside you. you froze in fear, but quickly relaxed when the driver rolled her window down. she was an older woman, and a beautiful one at that.

long, dark waves framed her face, and concern was written in her expression. her left arm extended out toward you, and you could see she was wearing a deep purple blazer.

"hey, hon. i heard some commotion from down the street and then saw you running. are you alright?" the woman's low voice was soothing, and you felt much safer already.

"i'm okay, thank you. i just broke up with my boyfriend and it didn't go over well," you admitted, your shaky voice betraying your anxiety about the whole situation.

"well, i can't let you walk all the way home, sweetheart. how about i give you a ride?"

you considered her offer. it was cold and rainy outside, and your apartment was a good distance away. this woman was a stranger, but she put you at ease for some reason. besides, much worse people than her could be out at this time of night.

"that would be great. thank you so much. i'm y/n," you said, stepping into the passenger seat.

"agatha harkness," the good samaritan replied, offering her hand to you. you took her hand and shook it, noting the delicate veins running up her long fingers. her thumb stroked the back of your palm for a few seconds, and the skin tingled when she stopped. "lovely to meet you, dear."

you told her your address and she put it in the gps, beginning the 15-minute drive to your place. agatha was pleasant and kind as she listened to your story, how your boyfriend had treated you and how you'd reacted—omitting the magical details, naturally.

when the car pulled up in front of your apartment, you thanked agatha and gave her a hug. she smelled like violets and old books, and you hesitated to pull away. when you did reach for the door handle, it didn't budge.

it all happened in a flash: purple smoke obscured every window, your hands and feet were bound by glowing purple ties, and agatha smiled. the smoke cleared, and you were not at your apartment. instead, the car was parked in front of a small black house with gothic accents.

"wha—how—" you stuttered.

"i'm glad you asked. it was a simple illusion spell. couldn't have you getting suspicious, could i?"

"s-spell?"

"yes, darling, a spell. i'm a witch. you are, too, but i'm sure you already knew that."

you looked down at your lap and shook your head.

"oh? that's a surprise. i mean, i knew you weren't the most sophisticated witch, but i figured you'd at least have a grasp on what you are."

your mind reeled at the revelation. although she had basically kidnapped you, you felt a strange pull to the woman in the driver's seat. your gut told you to trust what she was saying: you were a witch.

"tell you what, baby witch," she offered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "if you promise not to run, i'll untie you."

what choice did you have but to obey her? you didn't know how to control your powers, and sooner or later, they were going to get you in trouble. agatha knew more than you did, and she was teasing you with the irresistible chance to understand your magic.

"i won't run," you whispered. you felt agatha lift her magical binds.

"good girl."

---

agatha did what she always did. she promised to teach you how to master your powers, lulled you into a false sense of security. and at night, when you were sleeping soundly in her bed, she would try to take your power.

it only took her a couple of days to realize that she couldn't access your magic. she tried everything, but your bright yellow power was totally incompatible with her mystic purple—a fountain of light, untouchable by other witches.

oddly, agatha accepted this. unlike any of her previous conquests, you inspired a curious fondness in the older woman. you were smart and beautiful, powerful yet unassuming. and you were hers to teach, to touch, to protect and corrupt. with some training, you would be a formidable ally.

as for you? you were neither her victim nor her partner, but something in between. you abandoned your old life and happily crawled into bed with her each night—so she could keep an eye on you, she said.

"women like us will never be safe in this world, y/n," she would whisper into your hair. "that asshole saw what you can do, and he didn't like it. you're too precious for the stake, honey. i have to keep you close."

agatha hated your ex, but she could use him to channel your rage. as you worked through the emotional toll of the breakup, you worked on your telekinesis. as you processed the extent of his manipulation, you learned the basics of mind control.

one day, agatha wanted to see if you could hold your own against her. she was anxious to know if you could protect yourself with the strategies she'd taught you.

"you ready, superstar?" agatha asked, looking you up and down hungrily. you were wearing the outfit she had picked out specifically for this occasion: a black mesh halter top with a little yellow skirt, "ideal" for mobility. "don't worry, i'll go easy on you."

"i think so," you responded, trying to settle your nerves and anticipate her first move. but it was hard to focus when she stared at you with dark eyes, hair pulled back into a ponytail and arms crossed, emphasized by her tight purple t-shirt.

"don't get distracted, now," a sultry voice whispered from behind you. agatha had teleported, and you were too focused on her arms to notice. "that's rule number one."

you shuddered at the feeling of her hot breath in your ear, but kept your guard up. purple strings began to flow from her fingertips and wrap around you. you swiftly floated up and out of her hold, yellow sparks carrying you across the room.

you landed with a flourish and agatha raised her eyebrows, impressed. she didn't let you rest for more than a second, though, as a blow of her magic struck you right in the chest.

you stumbled back, but quickly retaliated. with a snap of your fingers, agatha was knocked off balance by a burst of yellow. she smirked and waved her palm. but this time, you remembered to block, crossing your arms and projecting a white shield in front of you.

"so you have been listening to me," she cooed, flying toward you and pushing you up against the wall with her magic. "you always seem so preoccupied when i'm teaching you, like your pretty little mind is off somewhere else. tell me, do i scare you?"

the answer was complicated. yes, agatha scared you, but not in an unpleasant way. it was a thrilling kind of fear that left you breathing hard and wanting more.

"no, ma'am," you decided, using her momentary surprise to push back against the magic pinning you to the wall. agatha withdrew.

"hmmm, 'ma'am.' i like the sound of that," she drawled as you awaited her next move. "you're doing well, baby witch, but you forgot one thing."

in a split second, you were lying flat on your back, purple threads binding your hands and feet to the carpet. before you could even attempt to react with magic, agatha was on you. she hovered above your restrained form and leaned in.

"rule number two: protect your mind," her voice above you was the last thing you heard before being plunged into darkness.

---

when you came to a few minutes later, agatha was still on top of you. she wore a coy smile as she watched the purple swirls disappear from your eyes.

"welcome back, sweet daisy," agatha husked. "after reading your mind, it seems like you're not as sweet and pure as i thought."

you struggled against her restraints, but they didn't budge. you were definitely losing the fight, but with the way she was looking at you (like she wanted to ravage you), you didn't much care.

"you wanna know what i saw, pretty girl?" she taunted, and you swallowed thickly but did not respond. "i saw myself on top of you just like this, pumping my fingers inside you while you screamed out for mercy."

well, your secret was out. but agatha didn't seem displeased; on the contrary, she was basking in your humiliation like a true sadist. you felt wetness gathering in your panties at the sight.

"i saw myself bending you over," she continued, using her powers to lift you off the ground and maneuver you so you were bent over the couch. "punishing you for forgetting your spells."

she swatted your ass once, hard, and you whined pathetically.

"i saw you kneeling between my legs," she said, once again manipulating your body into that position. "listening to my directions, being my good girl."

on your knees, you nuzzled agatha's leg in embarrassment, and she stroked your hair. you stayed like that for a minute before agatha lifted you into her lap, spreading your legs wide.

"and i saw you grinding in my lap, squirming and whimpering like a needy whore," she concluded, running her hands up and down your inner thighs as you straddled her. "what do you have to say for yourself, honey?"

you were at a loss for words, now incredibly turned on and burying your face in her neck. her fingers twitched and you were pushed out of your hiding place, her magic forcing you to face her.

"your mind is so dirty. how are you feeling? excited?" before you could respond, she slipped her hand between your legs. she lifted up your skirt and traced your slit over your panties, inhaling sharply when she found them soaked. "oh, you are. you just can't control yourself around me, can you? all hot and bothered. do you need me to take care of you?"

"yes, please," you begged, wiggling impatiently in her arms. tendrils of purple magic snaked around you, tickling your skin and preventing you from moving any more.

"much better," agatha hummed as she restrained you. she laughed seeing your helpless face. "don't pout. i'm going to touch you, make you feel so nice. but you need to sit still and take it like a good girl."

you nodded, and she rewarded you by vanishing your top. she took your breasts in her hands and kneaded them, working her way to your nipples. when she rolled them between her fingers, you yelped.

"shhh, i know, you're so sensitive," she cooed as she toyed with you. "you're in for a treat, babygirl. have you ever used your powers to play with yourself?"

she knew the answer. of course you hadn't. you didn't even know how. but she reveled in the way your face scrunched up in wanton embarrassment at the mention of touching yourself.

"allow me to demonstrate," she said, removing her hands from your nipples and whispering a latin word under her breath. you gasped when a purple buzz settled on your buds, replicating agatha's touch without physical contact. "feels good, hm?"

you merely whined and tried to grind against her, frustrated when you couldn't move an inch. she seemed to know what you needed, though, as your skirt then disappeared in a flash of violet.

"as much as i love that little skirt on you, honey, it's in the way of what i really want to see," agatha drawled, and you held your breath with the anticipation. with no warning, she gently lifted your hips up toward her, leaned down, and latched onto your clit through your panties.

"oh my god!" you moaned as she suckled through the fabric, putting delicious pressure on your bundle of nerves. then she sat up again and returned you to your position on her lap, once again whispering the incantation to continue stimulating your clit.

"i'm flattered, but there's no god here. just me," she smirked, watching you writhe in tortured pleasure. "alright, superstar, you with me? watch this."

she held two of her fingers up to your eye level, and your eyes grew wide as her fingertips lit up. with a predatory grin, she thrusted her fingers upwards, and you felt them inside you. you couldn't suppress your sinful moan.

"don't you see how powerful we are? i'm not even touching you, and you can feel me in your pretty little pussy," she mused, drunk on her power over you. "and if i do this," she curled her fingers just right, and you screamed as she stroked your special spot, "i can feel you squeezing me. like a tiny piece of heaven."

while her fingers continued thrusting and curling, her power pumping in and out of you, she used her other hand to explore every inch of your body. she touched you like you were the most precious work of art, a soft and delicate masterpiece in her arms. her touch and her magic were all over you, and you felt yourself getting close to the edge.

"won't be long now. you're so easy, sweetness," she sang proudly. her free thumb found your clit and rubbed tight circles on it, direct touch compounding the pleasure from her magical suction. not even a minute later, your release swept over you. "there you go."

when you came, agatha lifted the restraints so she could watch your legs shake and your core convulse. she kept pumping her fingers until she heard you whimper helplessly, squirming away from her invisible touch. she then withdrew the magical stimulation and ran her palms up and down your sides to comfort you.

"how was that, sunshine?" she smiled as she checked in with you. you gave her a breathless kiss, pouring all of your passion and admiration for the older woman into her mouth. her eyes sparkled with adoration as she looked at you, fucked out and struggling to stay upright in her lap. she inched closer to whisper against your lips. "i want to fuck you."

you weren't entirely sure what she meant, but you knew from your recent mind-blowing orgasm that anything was possible through magic. you started to get antsy in her lap again. you stood up on shaky legs and started toward the bedroom.

"don't be silly, superstar," agatha laughed as she effortlessly raised you into the air until you were hovering bridal-style in her arms.

agatha swiftly brought you up the stairs and into her bedroom. she laid you down on the bed and nudged your legs apart with her magic before retreating to the closet.

"do you know what this is, princess?" agatha asked, emerging from the closet with a large purple strap-on dildo in hand. you swallowed thickly at the sheer size of it and nodded your head.

"it's a strap-on," you replied sheepishly.

"correct, smart girl. this is a very special strap-on, though. do you know why?"

"no, ma'am."

"well, i want you to think of it as my cock. because when i put on the harness," she snapped her fingers and the strap was secured between her legs, "i can feel everything."

she gave the dildo a few rough strokes and groaned to illustrate her point. you trembled in anticipation. agatha was going to take you with the biggest cock you'd ever seen. and she would be able to feel the warmth, the wetness, the fluttering of your most intimate place with her own flesh. you unconsciously spread your legs wider.

"ready for me?" agatha crawled on top of you and dragged the tip of her cock through your messy folds, getting it lubricated. you nodded tentatively. "i'll be gentle. wouldn't want to break my delicate little flower. at least, not yet."

the second her tip breached your entrance, you inhaled sharply. it was going to be a tight fit, even though you were soaked. agatha recognized your discomfort and leaned down to kiss your lips sweetly. with another latin whisper, you felt those soft kisses all over your body, on every part of you all at once—even your clit. this relaxed you, and agatha gave you a few more inches.

"you're so tight," the older woman breathed, marveling at the sensation of feeling your wet warmth around her. "and all mine, little witch. you'd like to be mine, wouldn't you? i'd dress you every day in those mini skirts and no panties, play with this pussy all day long."

agatha's words worked exactly as she intended. you lost yourself in the hazy fantasy of being hers, and she penetrated you all the way. you both cursed as she bottomed out.

"good girl, taking my cock so well, letting me fill you up. let me just..." she trailed off and pulled out before thrusting back in at a new angle, hitting your g-spot and conjuring stars behind your eyes. "there she is."

once she knew you were okay, agatha seemed to lose the last of her restraint. she fucked you fast and rough, slamming her tip into your sweet spot on every thrust. she forced her cock even deeper by pinning your knees to your chest with her powers. then she snapped her fingers and the suction was back on your clit, only three times more powerful than before.

"come on my cock, y/n," agatha commanded, sending you flying into an orgasm. this one felt different from the first one, like a spark in your core spreading into an uncontrollable fire throughout your body. your legs jerked and your face twisted up, and the sight of you sent agatha over the edge too. you felt her hot release coat your walls, satiating you.

agatha pulled out of you and coaxed you to sit up, at which point you noticed the mess. a glowing purple liquid seeped out from between your legs, and agatha's midsection was dripping with clear liquid... wait, was that glowing too? the yellow aura looked unnatural, almost neon.

"rule number three," agatha chuckled, sensing your confusion. "don't be alarmed when things start glowing. comes with the territory, dear."

"how did that...?" you wondered aloud.

"well, for me it was an artistic choice. some women really enjoy the idea of me coming inside them, so i added a special enchantment to make their dreams come true," she explained. then her face broke into a smug grin. "and you, my darling, you squirted. it's not a magical experience on its own, but apparently it was for you."

your eyes followed her hands as she gestured to the glimmering evidence of your climax.

"have you ever done that before?" she asked while waving her hands in the air. before she finished the sentence, you were both suddenly clean and wearing fresh pajamas, warm like they'd just been in the dryer.

"no," you admitted, still a bit shy after losing control so dramatically. agatha hummed and pulled you close, and you grew drowsy while she cuddled you.

"oh, sweet daisy girl. i still have so much to show you."

[beegomess]

T.R. || Do you know her? 'Cause I'm addicted

Summary: An enigmatic friendship between you and Tom evolves into an intense and dangerous romance, leading you both to explore dark magic and gain followers, while the weight of guilt and a dark destiny unfolds for those who aided you. Warnings: None

A/N: This imagine can be related to the chapter 'Loving You Forever,' serving as a sort of origin story, or it can be read independently.

Requests are open!

There were those who believed that you had been completely consumed by love, that your vision was clouded by passion. The professors viewed you with a mix of pity and curiosity, and the other students thought you were just another victim enchanted by the web woven by Tom Riddle. To many, you were the typical young woman captivated by the beauty and charm of a boy shrouded in mystery—an innocent girl who, fascinated by his enigmatic aura, had let her own feelings drag her into his orbit.

But this view did not do justice to your true essence. If you were merely a young woman attracted by Tom’s allure, you would never have approached him with the determination you showed. Tom had always been an enigma, a mystery that inspired adoration from many but rarely unconditional loyalty. Girls dazzled by his magnetism offered to follow his dark paths, some even willing to commit to their own shadows to gain his favor.

What few understood was that, in truth, Tom was drawn to your own inner darkness. In you, he saw an even deeper reflection of his own complexity. Your ability to project a seemingly innocent façade, combined with a hidden depth, made Tom fascinated by something he could not fully illuminate himself. While Dumbledore struggled to understand the dark layers of Tom, you seemed to possess an even more impenetrable darkness, a latent force that you revealed only when you wished.

When Tom first saw you in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library, his initial impulse was one of alert and defense. You were surrounded by an aura of mystery that defied any attempt to categorize you easily. Your presence was a break from expectation in a space Tom considered his absolute domain. He entered the Restricted Section with the confidence of one who holds all secrets and mysteries within reach, but you, with your almost challenging indifference, immediately destabilized that balance.

Initially, Tom saw you as an imminent threat. Your carefree posture, your eyes that shone with an almost provocative intensity, and the way you moved with a grace that mixed disregard and challenge were enough to make him feel unsettled. The way you handled the books, the way your presence seemed to fill the environment with a palpable tension—this was a direct challenge to the control he so carefully maintained over his life and interests.

The initial irritation gave way to a growing frustration. Tom began to feel an unsettling sense that you were not only defying his authority but seemed to evade his attempts at manipulation. Your ability to remain aloof from his advances provoked a mix of growing frustration and fascination. What began as an irritating intruder soon became a captivating enigma.

As the days passed, Tom started to notice your presence with an unexpected frequency. In corridors where he had never seen you before, in moments of quiet where he expected to find you—you seemed to be always there, like a shadow moving with disturbing precision. It was as if you were aware of his intentions, or perhaps even provoking him deliberately. This constant feeling of being watched, of every step he took being followed, began to turn into a disturbing obsession.

Then, on a particularly quiet night, Tom decided to follow you. His instincts told him there was something important to be discovered. He trailed you through the castle’s shadows, alert to every movement you made. With almost predatory precision, he watched as you walked with deliberate calm towards the Black Lake, a place Tom knew to be a refuge of tranquility and mystery.

Upon reaching the lake’s edge, Tom hid behind a tree, his gaze fixed on you. He prepared to wait patiently, determined to understand what you might be planning. However, instead of being surprised by some secret plot, you simply waited for him at the lake, as if you had been expecting him all along.

The moon’s silvery light illuminated the lake and reflected in your eyes as you slowly turned towards Tom’s hiding place. An enigmatic smile formed on your lips as you spoke, your voice soft and direct cutting through the night’s silence.

— You know, Tom, you’re not very subtle for someone who prides himself on his cunning. — Your voice was a mix of challenge and knowledge, as if there was an intimacy between you that only you could understand.

Tom emerged from the shadows, his face a mask of curiosity and a touch of frustration.

— And I expected you to be occupied with something more... significant — he replied, the irony in his tone hiding a spark of frustration.

You laughed, a soft and almost melodious laugh that echoed in the quiet night.

— There’s nothing more significant than what is already happening, Tom. You follow me with a disconcerting frequency. It’s almost as if you’re searching for something you don’t know you’re looking for.

Tom looked at you with a piercing gaze, his mind boiling with a mix of emotions. Your presence, which had once irritated him, had now become a central focus of his attention, a mystery he felt an urgent need to solve. The feeling of being observed, the sense that you were always a step ahead—this all contributed to a growing obsession that began to shape his perception and actions.

As your friendship with Tom Riddle solidified, it developed into an intriguing complexity, marked by an aura of mutual distrust. Initially, your relationship was characterized by cautious respect and incessant curiosity. Tom, with his reserved nature and sharp mind, kept a calculated distance, while you, with your intelligence and charm, projected an aura of mystery that was not easily penetrated.

Frequent meetings in the library, surrounded by piles of books and ancient tomes, were the main setting for the evolution of your relationship. The interaction between you was full of subtle provocations and exchanges of looks laden with unspoken meanings. Even when working together to unravel complex spells and enchantments, there was a palpable tension that always lingered. Tom seemed always on the verge of revealing something deeper, while you remained a step ahead, your presence challenging and enigmatic.

One particularly quiet night, after a long and exhausting study session with Professor Slughorn, the dynamics between you shifted significantly. The library was enveloped in a tranquil twilight, illuminated only by the soft light of candles and moonlight filtering through the windows. You were alone, surrounded by open books and scattered notes, immersed in a discussion about a complex spell you had studied.

It was in this intimate setting that the tension between you finally found a more concrete expression. Tom, with an expression that combined curiosity and desire, approached you. His normally calculating and distant eyes were now filled with an intensity that could not be ignored. Without a word, he leaned in, and his lips touched yours in a kiss that began softly and hesitantly but soon transformed into something deeper and more passionate. The kiss was a milestone, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that had built up between you, a confirmation of a connection that went beyond friendship and academic admiration.

After this moment, your relationship transformed into something more intense and romantic. The physical and emotional closeness that developed between you began to shape a complex dynamic. The bond you shared deepened further with the introduction of Professor Slughorn, who became a crucial mentor in your magical explorations. Slughorn’s guidance was essential for developing your skills but also became a starting point for a growing curiosity about advanced and eventually dark magic.

You and Tom began seeking Slughorn’s help more frequently, drawn by his vast experience and knowledge. Slughorn, enchanted by the potential both of you displayed, agreed to mentor you, providing access to rare tomes and teaching complex spells. However, this mentorship began to focus on darker aspects of magic. Your dedication and enthusiasm for these studies were apparent, and Slughorn started to notice that your interests were veering towards darker practices.

As you and Tom delved deeper into these studies, Slughorn’s influence, though initially beneficial, began to show its consequences. The professor started to feel the weight of his responsibility. The guidance he had provided, combined with your ambition and curiosity, led to deeper involvement with dark magic. Slughorn found himself regretting his role, realizing that his mentorship had somehow facilitated your inclination towards dangerous practices. The guilt of having contributed to this dark path became a heavy burden on his conscience.

Your presence, now marked by an intense romance and a joint quest for dark knowledge, did not go unnoticed by the other students and the faculty. Gossip began to spread through the school like wildfire. Girls, many of whom had watched you with a mix of envy and admiration, now whispered about your relationship with Tom. Your transformation from a popular and kind figure into someone involved in a tumultuous romance with an equally intriguing figure caused a frenzy among the students.

The buzz about your relationship and increasingly dark studies began to attract the attention of the professors. Dumbledore, with his perceptive gaze and constant concern for the students, began to watch you with caution. Other professors also started to keep a close eye, worried about the influence that your intelligence and fascination with dark magic could have on Hogwarts' balance.

As time went on, the future awaiting you and Tom Riddle began to unfold with disturbing clarity. The intense relationship and the pursuit of dark magic you fueled were set to trigger a series of events that would forever alter the fate of Hogwarts and beyond. The growing influence of Tom, now accompanied by rumors of followers emerging in a sinister manner, indicated the beginning of a dark and dangerous movement. The weight of guilt fell on those like Slughorn, who had contributed to this trajectory, lamenting the influence they had wielded and the consequences now unfolding. Your transformation from enigmatic students to leaders of a dark cause not only defied established norms but also signaled a future full of conflict and challenges, where past choices and mistakes would become integral to an increasingly dark and unpredictable destiny.

____________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[dark-moonlust]

The Summoning of Vassago

Commission for anonymous Patreon friend for August 2024! Enjoy! Slots are open!

Pairing: demon oc: Vassago x witch oc: Kestrel

Summary: Kestrel, a white witch, struggles to sleep because of a spell book filled with dark magic. After having a vivid dream about a mysterious man with brilliant orange eyes, she discovers the book on her bed, despite leaving it in her office. Unable to resist, she casts the spell, summoning Vassago, a strong demon who promises to grant her deepest wishes.

Warnings: minors don't interact, NSFW, explicit smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, size kink and big 🍆, lots of 💦, mating bite.

Kestrel tossed and grumbled as visions, powerful and unsettling consumed her sleep. A man chased her in her dreams, tall and handsome, his presence so strong it made her feel heated throughout. It felt so real. He caught her, trapping her in his embrace. He had dark hair and eyes that burned with an orange glow. A grin on his handsome lips, he held an ancient spell book and pointed to a specific page and cryptic symbols. His captivating eyes prompted her to look closer, and she did.

Eyes snapping open, she jolted awake, her forehead sweaty, her heart racing. A strange heat burned deep inside her. Magic, pure and primal flew through her, crackling beneath her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned and saw the spell book on the bed beside her. She stared at it in disbelief. She could swear she had left it in her office, locked away.

Yet there it was, sitting innocently, open on the same page as the stranger had shown her in her dream.

Chills spread throughout her skin.

The night was strangely silent, the air dense with a tension she couldn't shake.

She had not expected her dreams to be absorbed by the spell book she had brought home from the library. The book buzzed with black magic, and she intended to safeguard the innocent by bringing it home for safekeeping. She could withstand bad magic since she was a white witch, strong and surrounded by the bright light of good magic.

But now, after the dream and the unexpected movement of the book, she wasn't so sure. 

Closing her eyes, she tried to calm herself, but as soon as her eyelashes slid shut, she saw him. He appeared again, towering and powerful, his eyes piercing through her like before. Kestrel’s eyes snapped open, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. She glanced at the book and the heat inside her grew stronger, almost unbearable. It was as if her own magic was boiling beneath her skin, demanding release.

Kestrel hesitated, biting her lip as energy sizzled from the book. It spoke her name in a deep voice that only she could hear and understand. Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the page of her dream. The symbols came from an ancient script she didn't identify, but she comprehended every word. Her heart thudded, her core clenched as she focused on the name written across the page:

Vassago.

When her fingertips touched the name, a burst of magic passed through her. She gasped and her body lit up with power, a raw and uncontrollable force rolling through her. She felt alive, more alive than she had ever felt.

Dangerous. It was dangerous. He was dangerous.

The demon Vassago, the demon of temptation, able to make one’s wildest fantasies and desires come true. He wasn't simply a demon, but a supreme being with enormous power, the kind witches like her were warned never to summon. According to legend, strong sorcerers sacrificed their lives to confine Vassago in the book for seeking a forbidden treasure.

But now, it was too late. The book was crumbling, its magic unleashed, the demon half-released.

The heat inside her intensified, leaving her feeling achingly empty. Her magic burned with the desire to be released, and the more she fought, the more it clawed at her insides, demanding that she cast the spell and let it go. Before she could stop herself, she was reciting the spell. The air in her small bedroom thickened as the magic around her swirled like a storm, gathering in intensity. The shadows deepened and only the light from the full moon cast shafts of light through the deepening darkness.

And then, he appeared.

Vassago emerged from a circle of shadows, his dark presence dominating the room and dwarfing her form. Dark hair fell on his shoulders, whisps cascading over his angular face, and those eyes—those exact flaming orange eyes from her dream—gazed at her with fierce intensity. And bloody hell, he was naked, his body sculpted like stone, every muscle defined and rippling under his dark skin.

Kestrel gulped, unable to take her gaze away from him, his bulging cock, and heavy balls. He was huge in every way and his bits were just as provocative. His dick was long, thick and throbbing, the girth of it covered in ridges. The great demon stood at the foot of her bed, his lips twisted into a knowing smile as if he'd been waiting for this moment.

“You called for me,” he said in a deep husky voice. “And I came." 

Kestrel remained breathless, her magic humming beneath her skin as she met his gaze. She tried to resist, fight him, but his power and presence engulfed her, drawing her in and drowning her senses. She wasn’t afraid as she should have been but instead, she felt… excited. Thrilled. Aroused. In need.

Vassago crawled onto her bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip. “You summoned me, my treasure. And I shall fulfill your deepest desires,” he said in a low, seductive murmur. “Shall we begin?”

“No!” The very word hurt her soul. Kestrel denied the agony and grabbed the covers, trying to ignore the heat in his body. He was only inches away from her curled form. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she stammered. “Go away… please…”

Yet, even as she spoke the words, something inside her shifted, unleashing a knot of desire deep in her core. Her magic, wild and untamed, flared inside her, wetness pooling in her pussy. She had never before been so aroused, every inch of her body so achingly alive with need. And the delicious heat of him was overwhelming, it made her rub her thighs, unable to control herself. 

“Your body says what your heart is reluctant to accept.” Vassago crawled to her, his big body caging her in. “You can’t deny what you truly want, Kestrel.”

Kestrel's pulse quickened, and she shook her head, but she did not react when he dragged away the covers. She only sighed pleasurably, desiring his touch on her. It felt so good to be touched by him. Vassago’s smile widened, his sharp fangs glinting as he trailed his fingertips over her clothed shoulders. She shivered and looked at him, her face flushed.

“I can feel it, Kestrel,” he whispered, his mouth poised over her lips. He didn’t touch her, but his breath scalded her. “You called for me—your soul, your body, your magic… they crave me.”

“I can’t…” she muttered, her hands shaking into fists at her sides. “I can’t let you in.”

“You don’t have to fight it. Let go, my treasure. Let me give you what we’ve both been denied. All you have to do is say yes.”

The moment he lowered his head and took her lips, a low, needy whimper escaped her. Kestrel’s heart and body betrayed her. He claimed her mouth, his tongue coaxing it open so that his tongue could slip inside. Kestrel moaned and clutched his chest, nails digging into the hard muscles as he fed her his tongue, thrusting it into her mouth. Their tongues danced and mated, her magic leaping to meet his and merging.

“Say yes?” he asked, peppering moist kisses on her neck.

“Yes…” Kestrel whispered, finally giving in. Her soul wanted him.

Her body trembled at his touch, a swirling tempest of desire and lust urging her onward. He took action, pushing his fingers into her hips as he lowered her down, his strong body covering hers. Skillful hands tugged at her clothes until she was fully exposed to his eyes. She shuddered, biting her lip as he took his fill of her, his gaze kissing her naked body.

“Kestrel…” he whispered, entranced.

His mate was a vision of soft, natural beauty; flushed and needy, her green eyes sparkling like emeralds, her honey-blonde hair fanning over the sheets. Lips soft and pink from his kisses. Breasts round and pert, nipples taut and begging to be suckled. Thighs soft and creamy and in between, the prettiest, most glistening pussy that seemed to glow with its own magic.

His lips crashed against hers and she melted under him, her legs opening, her arms wrapping around his neck. Big hands cupped her breasts, his fingers squeezing her nipples causing Kestrel to whine. Mouth leaving her mouth, he wetted one nipple then shifted to the other. He suckled them loudly while his free hand opened her thighs and draped them over his bulging thighs.

Trickles of arousal oozed out of her pussy and in a heartbeat, he was devouring it, head between her legs, his warm mouth fastened over her cunt. Kestrel squirmed but his hands held her in place. She could only whine as he swirled his wicked tongue, lapping up her essence. The demon feasted on her, then settled on her clit while thrusting a thick finger inside. She saw stars, she floated in a sky of pleasure and came with unbidden cries, her orgasm more explosive than anything she had ever felt before.

He didn’t stop.

One finger became two, two became three, spreading her hole wider. The pressure on her clit increased, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through her. It was too much but she arched into his touch, every fiber of her being desperate for him to fill her. Frantic, Kestrel reached down and grasped his hot cock with both palms. The demon growled appreciatively as she traced the thick girth of him. His shaft was very warm and velvety, the ridges everywhere, even on the round weeping head.

“Finally,” Vassago sighed, rising to his knees, while she held his cock like a rod in her small palms. “Put me inside you little pussy, mate.”

Shaking with need, Kestrel aligned his throbbing cock to her entrance. The head pulsed again her soaked folds, opened them and speared inside. Her spine curled as he rolled his hips and every inch of him filled her up. He was so thick and long but he didn’t hurt her, didn’t tear her flesh. Their combined magic protected her. His dick invaded her, buried itself deep within her.

Breathing fast, Kestrel kissed him. She felt him everywhere, around her, within her, his magic and soul one with her. He kissed her back, primal groans and moans leaving him as he claimed his soulmate, his treasure. His massive frame curved around her, protectively as he pounded into her. Kestrel accepted him completely; she was so wet that his cock slipped in and out of her with ease, the plap-plap of their bodies echoing through the room.

"You are mine now. My treasure has been found," he drawled, licking her nipples, propelling her higher and higher.

“Yours,” Kestrel said breathlessly, her tits bouncing with each powerful stroke. Eyes shutting tightly, she came again, pussy seizing around his shaft, her cries reverberating in the room.

Vassago drank in her melodic moans while fucking her, lifting her legs and opening her up fully. He marveled at her little slit being stretched by his cock, her wetness soaking his balls and thighs. He rubbed her cute clit, holding her hostage to his touch while she struggled and cried. A slave to pleasure.

His ridged cock caressed her sensitive walls, slamming back and forth with a force that pushed the air out of her lungs. Vision fading, Kestrel came again, her insides fluttering around his thrusting cock. A whimpering mess, she clutched him for dear life and accepted his fierce kiss.

He followed then, plunging to the hilt and flooding her. He spurted load after load of wet heat, filling her up for minutes on end. And when he was finished, he moved their bodies to the side, his muscled body fitting against her softness, and stayed buried deep inside, his cock pulsing up her belly.

“Yes,” he breathed softly against her ear. “My beautiful mate, in my arms, filled with my cock. They tried to take me away from you. They tried but you found me. You found me, my treasure.”

“Who did this? Who hurt you?” Kestrel asked. She knew he was telling the truth. She had been drawn to that book, to him, for a reason.

“Sorcerers of the light. They thought they could keep me trapped in that damned book,” he explained as his hands found hers, intertwining their fingers. “They feared what we would be together—the power we would wield. You, a witch of light, and me, a demon of darkness. You were a treasure I was never supposed to have. But none of that matters now. Because you found me.”

“I am your treasure? Truly?”

“Hmm… you are my treasure, Kestrel. The other half of my soul. My mate,” he drawled, his molten orange eyes burning with something more than just lust.

Everything made sense. Kestrel felt her magic ignite in answer, and her heart swelled with strength and love. The demon had claimed her, and all she wanted to do was give in. Angling her head, her lips found his in a blazing collision of hunger and need. Vassago groaned, his hard cock throbbing inside her, thrusting lazily. His body pressed harder against hers, his palms fondling her sensitive breasts. They moved together, slowly, enjoying every second of their union.

“Mine,” he whispered against her lips, his cock stealing away her breath. “My mate. My equal. My love. No magic, no force can keep me from you. And I am yours. Forever.”

Kestrel pulled back from the kiss just enough to meet his eyes. “I feel it too. The bond. The need. The love. I can’t bear the thought of being away from you. Vassago, you are my mate. I accept you fully.”

Growling, his lips moved lower, brushing against her neck, his fangs trailing the smooth skin. “We’ll never be apart. I will tear apart the realms to keep you by my side.

And then he bit, his fangs sinking into her skin and claiming her forever and irrevocably as his. The mate of Vassago. The demon’s treasure. Kestrel moaned in pain and bliss and convulsed around his thrusting cock. She succumbed to him and to the bond they shared. They were united by fate, love, and something far more than each of them could have imagined. And that was all that mattered.

THE END

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS-11

🎀 Angel Eyes by @bunnyhugs77 - OneShot

Pairing: Patient! Jungkook x Reader

"You're such a bad influence, y'know? I can't believe you really almost made me do that." His bunny-like smile is on display when he speaks, "That wasn't me, that was your instinct. For a brief second, you just listened to your heart."

🎀 Falling Skies by @fortunexkookie - Series

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash. Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon had realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did. It was a twin thing. 

🎀 SNOW IMPRINTS by @2hightocare - OneShot

Paring: DILF!JK X Reader

What was supposed to be a family reunion, ends in comparing dick sizes.

🎀 Peach. by @hongjoongscafe - OneShot

Pairing: Professor!jungkook X Camgirl!reader

where his lust and admiration fell for a camgirl.

🎀 slow dancing by @yoonia - Series

Pairings: Jungkook x reader / Namjoon x reader

When your countdown appeared on your wrist right on the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

🎀 Magic Shop by @jungkookiebus - OneShot

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tea shop owner!jjk x reader 

you thought after three years the hurt in your heart for your dead husband would sting a little less than it did. in an attempt to clear your mind and start anew, you move to a small, coastal town. there, you find comfort in a tea shop run by a man named jeongguk. every day, at the same time, you come to the tea shop and soon start to fall for the bright-eyed man that listens to you pour your heart out. but the guilt settling in your stomach every time you think of your husband has you running from jeongguk entirely. do you have what it takes to let go?

🎀 bewitched by @jkabbi - Series

pairing: jungkook x reader

Former neighbors turned lovers, your enchanting romance with Jungkook takes a magical turn. A spell to protect him shapes your past, and now, as a flower shop owner, an unexpected reunion brings buried secrets to light. Past and present collide in a captivating tale of love and mystery.

🎀 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 by @pennyellee - OneShot

pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader

You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

🎀 nepenthe by @lively-potter - OneShot

Pairing: CEO!JK X Reader

in which solaris celeste vesper, a sad girl with an unfortunate upbringing meets a man far older than her and, within his presence, her sorrow fades into nothingness.

Also in which jeon jungkook finds the sun he so desperately needed in his life.

🎀 PREDESTINED by @keen-li - OneShot

Pairing: Mortal/commer jk x goddess reader

"You shouldn't be here" you say with a smile. Legally he shouldn't be here but personally you're glad he's here.

🎀 SX Seoul by lo1k-diamonds - TwoShot

PAIRING: Jungkook X Reader

You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

🎀 oxygen by @gimmethatagustd - OneShot

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x f!Reader

If you get caught, you'll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.

🎀 ALL AT ONCE by @muniimyg - Series

pairings: unhinged jungkook + shy oc

jungkook confesses and you're in denial

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ♫♬♪ ♫♬♪