#i need to lie down this is impossible how did they put in so much of the og content so faithfully

[sweetchcolate]

It's insane. This game is going to be insane.

HOW. HOW DID THEY PULL THIS OFF

[covenofagatha]

A Helping Hand

You're helping your Professor gather ingredients for a potion she's brewing when you accidentally knock over a jar of sex pollen and need help.

Word count: ~3100

Warnings: smut, mommy kink, fingering, Top Agatha, magic cock, blowjob, magic cum, pure filth, teacher x student, age gap (everyone's legal)

Your brow furrows as you stare at the open spell book in front of you. You have a Potions test tomorrow for Professor Harkness, and evident by your lack of understanding of any of the words on the page, you are not going to do well. 

“What’s wrong?” your roommate, Wanda, asks you. The two of you are the top witches at the Academy of Dark Arts, and yet, neither of you has a strong suit in potions. 

And of course, the Potions teacher, Agatha Harkness, is the hardest teacher you have. 

“This is impossible. How am I supposed to remember that, for the Wolfsbane Potion, you have to stir three times counterclockwise, say this incantation, and then stir four times clockwise, all while making sure I’m continuously pouring in Dragon’s Blood?” Your head hurts just from reading it from the book. 

Wanda snorts. “Agatha doesn’t expect it to be perfect.”

You give her a look. You both know that’s a lie. Agatha is the teacher that makes you redo written homework assignments if you leave too much space between the words. 

The Academy of Dark Arts was a home for witches like you and Wanda: witches that did not have a coven, or even a family. The Academy was supposed to teach girls to harness and understand their powers. 

You have been here the longest, ever since you were twelve. You are almost twenty now. You had always put off taking Potions until you could no longer avoid it, mainly just because of how hard everyone else said it was. You had briefly interacted with Professor Harkness before the class, passing her in the corridors or making eye contact at meals. 

And maybe, just maybe, you had developed a bit of a crush on her once you were in her class. 

Who could blame you, though? She was the definition of perfection, with the way power just exuded from her, and the way her long, dark hair tumbled down to her lower back, and her piercing blue eyes that you suspected could see right into your soul. 

But your little infatuation was not what you needed right now – no, right now, you need to study. 

“I just don’t know anything,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t even read my notes.” Agatha often went so fast in class that you had no other option than to just scribble down everything you thought she said as quickly as you could. 

And now you just had pages of illegible chicken scratch. 

“She’s probably still in the green house, why not just go ask her for help,” Wanda says noncommittally, too engrossed in sketching a picture. How she is so calm with this test hanging over the both of you, you have no idea. 

But you nod. That’s a good idea. You can go see Agatha, ask her to clarify a few things, and then stay up all night cramming ingredients and directions into your brain. 

“I’ll be right back,” you promise, and then scoop up your book and your notes. 

You pass by some younger witches in the hallway and you give them a tight-lipped smile. Wanda was really your only friend at the Academy, the other girls too boy-crazy or too self-absorbed for you to really connect with them. 

Other than those girls, though, the Academy is quiet. No sign of any of your other teachers, and you’re sure they’re either in their private quarters or still grading papers in their classrooms. 

You have to leave the main house of the Academy to get to the greenhouse, where Potions takes place. The cold November air stings your cheeks and makes your eyes water, but luckily, it’s a short walk. 

“Hello, Professor Harkness?” you say timidly, knocking on the door as you push it open. She’s sitting at a stool, cutting plants with a sharp knife. Her hair flowing down her back and she's wearing a tight white button-down shirt on that’s tucked into high-waisted purple pants, and a long, navy coat.

She glances up and smiles when she sees it’s you. “Y/n, what can I do for you?” 

“Oh, I just wanted to come see if you could help me clear some things up for the test tomorrow,” you say, a little flustered by how good she looks. 

“Sure thing, hon. First, I need your help. Hand me those powders from over there?” She points the knife over to the counter by the sink and you oblige, grabbing the four vials and putting them down next to her. She picks each one up and examines the label closely. “Ah, shoot. Sorry, dear, could you find the jar with the powdered root of asphodel? It should be in the pantry somewhere. I thought I took it out, but I guess I forgot.” 

“Yeah, of course.” You repeat the powder name in your head a few times so you don’t forget it and then go search for it. 

You finally spot it on the fourth shelf, sitting in the middle of some other jars, and you reach up on your tip-toes to grab it. As you’re pulling down the correct jar, you accidentally knock it into another and it falls to the floor next to you. 

“Shit!” you mutter, immediately crouching down to assess the damage. The jar of some unknown powder has broken and its contents are spilled everywhere. Without even thinking, you start to sweep the powder into your hands so you can try to put it back in the bottom half of the jar that’s still intact. 

You didn’t even notice Agatha coming over after she heard the noise. “Everything okay – don’t touch any of that!” she exclaims, seeing the bottle that broke on the floor.

You drop the mound of powder in your hands and whirl around, eyes wide open. 

“What is it?” you ask, afraid of the answer, but she doesn’t give you one, instead opting to pull you by the sleeve over to the sink. 

“Wash your hands now,” she demands and stands there watching you scrub your skin until it’s red. “How do you feel?” 

“I feel fine,” you say, but as you say that, you notice something. There’s an unmistakable heat growing in your stomach. And it only gets worse when Agatha places a hand against your forehead. You lean into the touch and have to forcibly bite your tongue so you don’t moan. 

She looks you up and down and you can feel yourself getting hotter. You’re sure your cheeks are flushed. 

You’ve never felt this way before. 

“Um, just out of curiosity, what was that powder?” you ask, wetness pooling between your thighs. The ache between your legs is becoming hard to ignore. 

Agatha meets your eyes. “It’s called sex pollen.” Your heart skips a beat. “I honestly forgot it was back there. I came across some a few decades ago and wanted to study it.”

You swallow hard. “So if someone gets some of it in their system, do they just need to touch…” You feel yourself blushing, not quite believing you’re asking Agatha Harkness if masturbation is the key to get this heat inside you to die down. 

She smirks. “You can’t get it out of your system by yourself.”

Well, fuck. “There’s no other way?” 

“Where would the fun in that be?” She winks playfully, and you wonder if she’s ever used it, or used it on someone else. “But you said you feel fine so you shouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Right,” you reply shakily. Her fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face and you literally clench at the sight of them. You feel so empty, so needy, so desperate for her. 

“You said you had some questions for the test tomorrow?” She takes the root of asphodel that you had forgotten you were holding and beckons you back over to where she’s working. She pats the stool next to you and you sit, the pressure on your clit making you jump. 

You just have to make it through this, go back to your room, and then drag Wanda out with you to a club or something so you can get fucked. 

The only problem is, you’re not sure you can wait that long. Your hips have started squirming on the stool beneath you and you can’t control it. 

“Um, so,” you start, opening up the textbook to the Wolfsbane Potion you were studying earlier. “The directions for this potion are–”

You’re cut off by her putting her hand on top of yours and you literally whimper at the contact. You stiffen and see her turn her full body towards you, taking in the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, your darkened eyes, the way your hips are moving on the seat. 

“Oh, you poor baby,” she taunts. 

You give up the pretense of being unaffected by the pollen. “Professor, I’m so…I need…please…I think the pollen...” 

She laughs. “Yes, dear, I think the pollen got into your system. Do you have anyone who can take care of you?” 

You blush at the implication of Agatha asking if you have a fuck buddy and then shake your head pathetically. “I was gonna go out with Wanda and try to find someone,” you mumble. “I’ve never…” You trail off, not wanting your incredibly hot professor to hear you say out loud that you’re a virgin. 

“Honey, you can’t have your first time with a random person from a bar,” she tuts. “Plus, sex pollen amplifies feelings you already have. Getting fucked by a random person won’t help as much as by a person you already want.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” you whine. “Can you…will you…please?” You can tell the pollen is affecting your ability to think straight because there is no way you just asked your centuries-old professor to fuck you. You’re about ready to run out of the room and die of embarrassment when she grins. 

“You want me to help you?” 

Your breath catches. “Professor, please, please, I need it. I need you. I just feel so…hot.” 

“I’ll say,” she says appreciatively, this time letting her eyes wander over you slowly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you regretting this when the pollen wears off.” 

You shake your head. “I won’t. I’m sure. I want you so bad. I have for a while. And you said it has to be someone you already want.” 

Her eyes darken. “Get on the table.” 

You’ve never moved so fast in your life. She takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere else in the room, and then her hands are cupping your breasts and her mouth is on yours. 

You moan hungrily into her hot mouth, feeling her tongue against yours. Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling it gently, and she groans into your mouth. Agatha quickly undoes the clasp of your bra and finds your nipples, tugging at them. She kisses down your neck and your fingers leave her hair to hike up your skirt. 

“So eager for me,” she whispers against your clavicle. You gasp when she bites down. 

“Please, professor, touch me.” 

“I am touching you,” she teases, fingertips lightly skimming down your stomach. You tense at the touch as she gets lower. 

Your moan is downright pornographic when she first slides her hand into your underwear, sliding through your folds. She makes a sound as well. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” she says. 

“All for you,” you say weakly, hips grinding up and down against her fingers. She’s yet to touch your clit, but you fear the second she does, you’ll cum. 

“My dirty girl.” Agatha finally pushes her middle finger into you and you clench down immediately, needing more. She easily finds the spot that makes you squeal, and her thumb brushes against your clit. “Do you think you can take another finger?” 

“Oh my god, yes,” you enthusiastically agree and she slides in her ring finger as well. It’s a bit of a stretch but you’ve never felt better. 

“Your cunt feels so good around me,” Agatha says, grabbing your chin with her other hand so you meet her eyes. “So wet, so warm. I want to stay here forever. You can’t get enough of my fingers, can you?” 

“No, Professor, I love your fingers,” you babble, right on the edge. She knows it too. 

“Be a good girl and come for mommy,” she whispers right into your ear, her hot breath warm, and the name, coupled with the way she twists her fingers and roughly strokes your clit, sends you climaxing. 

“Fuckkkk,” you moan, your nails digging into her shoulders. She fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm and then slowly pulls her fingers, which are drenched, out of you. You can’t help but feel empty and the heat inside you isn’t completely gone. 

Before you can say anything, she slides her wet fingers into your mouth and you lazily lap at your juices. She bites her lip at the feeling. 

“How are you feeling now, baby girl?” 

Her fingers leave your mouth with a pop. “Better but I still think I need more.” 

Her eyebrow raises playfully. “My fingers weren’t enough to quell your thirst?” 

You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed. 

“I think I know something that might help.” She waves her hand and a poof of purple smoke appears. You’re not quite sure what she did, but she gives you a wicked grin and unzips her pants, pulling out a purple strap-on. 

Your mouth falls open. 

She grabs a hold of the base and starts to stroke herself, groaning. 

“Wait, can you-” 

She looks up at you. “Feel it?” She nods. “I wanna feel you clench around my cock. Wanna fill you up.” 

You let out a small gasp. “Mommy, please, I need your cock.” 

She steps back over to you and runs a hand up your slit, collecting your wetness, which she then rubs on her cock. “You’re plenty wet already, but why don’t you get on your knees and show me how much of a good girl you can be.” 

She doesn’t have to tell you twice. You practically fall to the ground in front of her, ignoring the sharp pain in your knees. You look up at her, awaiting instruction, and she bites her lip softly at the sight of you. 

She puts a hand on your head and pushes you closer. “Put a hand around the base and then run your tongue up and down the length.” 

You do as you’re told and you delight in the loud moan that tears from her mouth. Her hand just rests on your head as you then experimentally suck the tip of her cock between your lips. 

“Good girl,” she says gruffly, and her praise drives you to test the waters and go down further. You bob your head on her dick, never breaking eye contact. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so hot.” 

Meanwhile, the need inside you is growing so much you can barely fight the urge to slip a hand up your skirt. But you don’t. You figure Agatha won’t like that, and also, you want to focus all your attention on making her feel good. 

“Such a dirty slut on her knees for mommy. So desperate for this cock,” she says and you groan around the strap-on, making her hands tighten in your hair. She pulls you back and a string of saliva connects your lips to her. “Get up.” 

Once you’re standing in front of her, she flips you around and bends your front over the table so she’s standing behind you. She pushes your skirt up and traces your pussy with her cock, sliding it up your slit to your clit and then back. You’re grinding against her, trying to get some stimulation. 

“Are you ready?” Agatha asks. 

“Yes,” you answer, voice hoarse with anticipation. You feel her line the tip up with your hole and then slowly start to push in. 

Both of you moan. She is so big but the stretch is exactly what you need. Once she bottoms out, she holds still for a second, letting you adjust to her size. 

“You take my cock so well.” And then she’s pulling out and thrusting back in, picking up speed and intensity. You lift a leg up so she’s able to get deeper and you can feel her hips stutter. “You pretend to be so innocent but look at how desperate you are for me. Just a little slut, needing me to fill her up.” 

“Yes, just a slut for you, mommy.” 

Her nails dig into your hip and her other hand comes down to rub your clit. You clench around her. 

“You’re so tight, so hot, you feel so good squeezing my dick,” Agatha murmurs, saying the filthiest things right into your ear. You’re so close and it’s only been a few minutes of her pounding into you. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Her hand leaves your clit and you gasp. 

“Not yet, baby, wait for mommy. Do you want me to fill you up?” 

“Want you to fill me up, mommy, wanna feel you dripping out of me,” you babble. 

“Oh shit, baby, gonna cum in you. Cum for me,” she says, and you do. This orgasm is even more intense than the one before and you feel her give you one last hard thrust before warmth spreads through your cunt. She stills for just a second and then gingerly pulls out. You can feel her cum dripping out of your hole and down your leg and it almost makes you cum again. 

Agatha turns you around and spreads your legs so she can watch it better. She takes two fingers and lazily smears her cum mixed with yours all over your pussy lips. She raises her fingers to your lips and you eagerly taste both of your juices, moaning around them. 

“Do you feel better now?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes. 

You sigh dramatically. “For now. But who’s to say I won’t get into more sex pollen some other time?”

She chuckles and matches your smirk with one of her own. “Well, I guess I better keep a careful eye on you then.” 

[bunny-1111]

Whoopsie - Theo Nott x clumsy!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Fluff + slight angst

Description: You can't help your clumsiness, but when you land with a bruise on your face, you're reminded that your boyfriend Theo really hates to see you hurt.

...

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridors of the Slytherin dungeons, each step clumsy and uneven. You weren’t exactly the most graceful of creatures, but today had reached new heights of disaster. It was one of those days when the universe seemed to be playing tricks on you—making every doorframe, stair step, and corridor seem like an obstacle course designed specifically for you to fail.

And fail, you did.

It had started innocently enough. You had forgotten your Charms textbook in the dormitory, and in your haste to retrieve it before your next class. The last thing you needed was detention from McGonagall for being late or forgetting your book, and you were sprinting down the corridor. Too fast, too distracted, and—

BAM.

Your face met the hard, unyielding brass of the doorknob. Pain radiated through your skull, and you stumbled back, clutching your nose. "Ow, ow, ow," you hissed under your breath, blinking back the sudden tears that sprang to your eyes.

By the time you had made it to the mirror in the girls’ bathroom, a glorious bruise was already blossoming across your cheekbone and the area around your eye, swelling quickly and turning an alarming shade of purple. You groaned. Great. How were you going to explain this to anyone? Even worse, how the hell are you going to explain this to Theo?

You decided to skip class altogether and carefully make your way to Madam Pomfrey.

You managed to slip into the common room unnoticed at first, pulling your hood up in a futile attempt to hide the evidence of your clumsiness. But, of course, it didn’t take long for someone to notice. It was Theo, he always noticed everything about you, no matter how much you tried to downplay it.

“Baby, why weren’t you in class, Enzo ended up taking the seat I saved for you and Merlin he chewed my ear off about Quidditch being fixed last Saturday,” he rambled on.

Don’t reply, don’t look up, you thought to yourself. It was impossible; this was happening right now.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, voice low and alarmed as he crossed the room in quick strides, his hand gently lifting your chin. You felt the warmth of his fingertips against your skin, but his expression was anything but warm. His brow furrowed in concern, soft brown eyes locking on the bruise that marred your face.

"I’m fine!" you blurted, though the words came out far too high-pitched to be convincing. You tried to pull away, but Theo wasn’t having it. His grip on your chin tightened ever so slightly, his thumb brushing against the edge of the bruise with a gentleness that made your chest tighten.

“Who hurt you?” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but the intensity in his tone made your stomach flip. His eyes searched yours, dark and stormy. Theo wasn’t the type to raise his voice in anger. No, his was the kind of quiet fury that built up slowly, seeping into the air like a cold, creeping fog.

"I did," you confessed, trying to laugh it off, but the tension in the room was suffocating. You could feel his anger brewing, and you knew what was coming next.

“I’m fucking serious, don’t lie to me!” Theo snapped, taking a step back as if putting some distance between the two of you would help him calm down. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he began pacing, his jaw tight. “There’s no way you did that to yourself.”

“I did!” you repeated, trying to sound more convincing this time. Rubbing your hand quickly against your bruise. Not a good idea, as you instinctively winced at the touch. “I ran into a door. A doorknob, to be exact. It’s not that serious, Theo,” you try convincing.

Theo froze mid-step, staring at you like you had just said something utterly ridiculous. Which, to be fair, you probably had.

“A doorknob?” he repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing as if he was waiting for you to take it back, like it was some kind of joke. But when you just nodded, Theo let out a long, frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. He shook his head as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re telling me… you smashed your face into a doorknob?”

“Yes,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment. God, you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“It's embarrassing already, alright? Leave me alone,” you huff.

Theo stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe you. Eventually, he sighed and dragged a hand down his face, turning away abruptly. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath before storming off, leaving you standing there with a gnawing pit in your stomach.

Theo didn’t go far. He was in the common room, pacing like a caged animal, still visibly agitated. His eyes flickered over the other Slytherins lounging nearby, most of whom had noticed his outburst but said nothing. That didn’t last long.

“Oi, what’s got you in a twist, Nott?” Blaise called from the couch, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. Beside him, Draco looked equally intrigued, lounging back with his arms crossed.

Theo glared at them but didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to look at you again, his jaw still set in that hard, unyielding way. The others followed his gaze, and it wasn’t long before the topic of conversation turned toward your rapidly bruising face.

“Wha- what the hell happened to her eye?” Blaise was the first to ask, looking genuinely confused as he gestured toward you.

“She said she ran into a door,” Theo growled, clearly still not convinced.

Draco, who had been staring at you with a mixture of concern and amusement, furrowed his brows. “Wait, what happened to who’s ey-?”

Before he could finish his question, Mattheo, who had just entered the common room, cut in with a dramatic, “Holy shit! What happened to your eye?” His tone was a mix of shock and humour, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of your injury.

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you now. Heat rushed to your face as you tried to explain yourself once again. “I fell,” you say quickly, raising your hands in a placating gesture, as if that would make everyone drop it and move on.

But of course, they didn’t.

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You fell? Into what, a troll?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I ran into a doorknob, okay? I wasn’t paying attention, and it just… happened.”

Blaise let out a low whistle, his smirk widening. “You really need to work on your coordination, love.”

You rolled your eyes, though the action hurt more than you expected, causing you to wince. Theo, noticing the movement, shot Blaise a glare that could have frozen over the entire Black Lake. “It’s not funny, Zabini.”

“Hey, I’m just saying…” Blaise shrugged, holding up his hands in mock defence. “You know, we could get you a helmet or something, just to be safe.”

"We should wrap you in bubble wrap", Pansy joins in laughing

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m fine, really.”

But the conversation was far from over. Despite your protests, the teasing continued—though most of it was good-natured. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Theo’s eyes on you, watching every movement, every wince. He hadn’t said much since his initial outburst, but you could feel his worry like a tangible weight in the air.

Eventually, the others got bored of the topic, and the common room returned to its usual low buzz of chatter. You took a deep breath, thankful for the reprieve, but when you glanced toward Theo, you saw that he was still tense, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he watched you.

“I’m going for a smoke,” he stated as he stormed out of the common room. Well, we’ve done it, stressed him to the point of smoking. You thought he’ll be back soon, sinking deeper into the couch.

Later that night, when everyone had dispersed to their dorms, Theo found you sitting by the fire, absentmindedly poking at the flames with a poker. He sat down beside you without a word, the warmth of his presence instantly comforting. For a while, neither of you spoke, the crackling of the fire filling the silence between you.

Finally, Theo broke the quiet, his voice low and careful. “You really need to be more careful.”

You looked at him, your heart giving a small, traitorous flutter at the concern etched into his features. “I know.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. “I hate seeing you hurt.”

There was something in his voice that made your chest tighten. You smiled softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “It’s not that serious, Theo. It was just a stupid accident.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the fire. Then, after what felt like forever, he turned to look at you, his expression softening. “Promise me you’ll be more careful next time.”

You chuckled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I promise.”

Theo wrapped an arm around you, pulling you

closer. “Good. Because I don’t think I could handle seeing you like that again, seriously.”

You gently kiss him, as you make your way towards his dorm, he wraps an arm around your shoulder, everything seeming good again.

That is until you tumble over your own feet, almost meeting the floor, but this time, Theo was there, tightening his grip on you, catching you before disaster could strike for the second time today.

You laugh as he stares at you, eyes widening. He cannot believe you actually fall over your own feet. He softens with a deep sigh.

“What am I going to do with you, my clumsy girl?” he laughs himself, kissing your head.

Author note: um like 4 theo fics posted in the last 24 hours.... getting that grind LMFAO

[kpoperotics]

Chaeryeong forbidden love x male reader

You and Chaeryeong are in a secret relationship. Both of your families don't approve your love, and because of this it's a forbidden love.

You and her are in your bedroom, nothing is really different than usual, you are enjoying spending time together while your family isn't home.

You share a deep and strong emotional bond that links you two together in a relationship that shouldn't exist in someone's point of view..

You two don't have much time to spend in the indoor because of your family, and she's horny. She's very horny and she wants you, she craves to feel you.

"Honey" She says

"Yes?" You reply

"I want you.." She whispers in your ear while her hands are already roaming all over your body "I need you so bad.."

You can't resist her when she's so needy and craving for you like this, and added to the fact that you don't have much time, you decide to let yourself go and have this.

"Lie down Chaery" you say and so she does, she's lied down on your bed. She looks at you with an aroused gaze "Go ahead.." She says.

You take your space between her legs and just right away you lean your tongue on her folds and start licking her. She moans softly, letting her head fall back on the pillow, her hair all around her head.

She moans and runs her fingers in your hair as you pleasure her that way, you know how crazy it drives her when you lick her, when it's you to do so.

She's moaning loudly now, maybe liking a little too much the feeling of your tongue on her, but you don't stop and keep until she reaches her climax.

"I wanna hear you scream babe" you say. She just nods, her eyes closed now as she focus on you and the sensations you're giving her.

She moans louder and louder, until she's basically screaming for you. As you sense her orgasm coming, you push slightly your tongue into her pussy and keep going licking.

In only seconds when you do that, she cums. She cums hard, like she never did before. She lets out a breathless gasp while her body convulses and trembles hard in sync with her powerful orgasm.

"F-fuck you're too good at this.." She compliments you. You take it and smile at her.

Now, while she stays lied down just exactly as she was, you put some lube on your cock and lay on top of her. "You ready?"

"Yes, go for it" she answers.

You push in, and stars appear in Chaeryeong's eyes as soon as she feels you inside. She smiles and it fuels your passion, making you thrust deeper and faster.

You keep going inside her and gosh, she loves you for infinite reasons but surely one of these is your power to make her see the stars. You're moving harmoniously in her but not for this slowly, in fact your thrusts are fairly fast but very deep, each of them reaching the deepest spots.. The sweetest ones.

She bites her lips and closes her eyes, her mind fogged in the purest pleasure. You keep thrusting.

"Chaeryeong... where do I cu-" you don't have time to finish that she already answers you.

"I want you in my mouth tonight..." She craves that.

You keep thrusting for now, but you decided that you don't want to push your limits and take it off only when you're about to cum, you want a little bit of a blowjob, so you give some more thrust and then you take it off.

Without warning her that you were going to pull away, she gasps loudly, not expecting it. "come here" she says hungrily.

You lie down on the bed and she takes her space between your legs very quickly, not wasting a single second. She takes you in her mouth and sucks hard, you don't know how much she's been craving for you to cum for her. She takes more and more of your cock in her mouth.

"Cum for me" she begs "only for me... let me taste you"

You can't resist her like that when she's not giving you a blowjob. When she's giving you a blowjob it's just impossible for you to hold on.

Her blowjob is quick and brings a little bit more than half of your cock in her mouth, still won't renounce to make it hotter. She takes your balls in her hand and massages them. She takes her time and after a few seconds her mouth is on your balls as well, sucking on them just as good.

You can't hold on now. "Chaeryeong, in!"

Her eyes go wide and she takes as much as she can of you in her mouth, feeling you cumming in her mouth so hardly, all over her tongue. She holds in position, not moving of a millimeter, letting you cum everything you've got for her.

Once you're done cumming, she pulls away and shows you your cum in her mouth. An erotic game you both find extremely hot. Then, she swallows everything, not leaving a single drop in her mouth.

She leans in, gives a last kiss in your cock and then reaches for your hands to take them in hers and kissing you passionately.

...The rest of the evening will be a marathon of movies and a big portion of cuddles.

[babyleostuff]

bike chase

𝜗𝜚 GENRE: fluff, established (secret) relationship 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!dino x idol!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: you are his secret, and he is yours. so what happens when a paparazzi catches you on a date?

“fix your hat, baby.” 

“huh?” chan looked up from his phone, his handsome face on full display. if you could have it your way, you’d never let him wear anything to cover the bright eyes, and beautiful smile that you fell in love with (hiding a face like that was technically a crime), but in your world it was impossible. as much as you’d wish to show off your boyfriend, and you knew chan was dying to share your pictures on his instagram as well, you were grateful you could make it work anyway. 

not every idol was as lucky as you were. 

“your hat,” you sighed, and kicked the kickstand down so your bike wouldn’t fall. your boyfriend  was still focused on his phone when you grabbed his face to fix the bucket hat so it would properly cover his face. “we have to be careful, remember.” 

the chance of bumping into someone was slim, like - there was a reason why you went on a biking trip at 2 am - it was the only time you had an illusion of privacy. it was just a matter of time before someone would recognise you anyway, but at least you could hold hands without being paranoid about the people around you. ever since the Han River incident last month when some paps recognised you (and took some quite unflattering pics, in your opinion), you learned your lesson to step up on your dressing up as undercover spies game. thankfully the photos were so blurry that your companies had no problem with denying the rumours. 

“thank you,” chan mumbled, and placed a peck on your forehead. you couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth - he looked way too endearing with his concentrated expression, but he was the one to insist that he’d manage to find your way back home. you were officially banned from helping him. 

“how’s it going?” you brushed your thumb over his lower lip. “will i sleep in my bed today or do i need to find a comfortable bench for the night?” 

“hey, have some faith in me,” he whined, finally looking up from his phone. “it’s not my fault the maps aren’t working. look,” he showed you the open map app he’d been struggling with for the past twenty minutes as if to prove that he wasn’t not the problem here, “the service sucks here.” 

“maybe we should’ve invested in some old fashioned maps,” you sighed, and leaned your head on chan’s shoulder. 

being up at the late hour wasn’t something unusual for the both of you, but you wouldn’t lie - after a full day of schedules and rehearsals you were getting kind of tired. not to mention you were biking for the past hour, so being stuck in the middle of nowhere was not an ideal situation for you. 

as if chan noticed your energy dropping, he put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his body. “tired?” he asked, his mouth brushing your cheek.  

“a bit.” 

“i’m sorry. it was my idea to go on a bike ride, we should’ve just stayed home.” 

you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s annoying habit of apologising for every small thing he thinks he's done wrong. “listen to me, lee chan,” you grabbed his chin, and rolled up the front of his bucket hat, so you could see him properly. “if i have to be stuck with someone, i’m happy that it’s you. besides, i agreed to the whole biking trip, so please - stop apologising.” 

he gave you a smile, clearly still feeling a bit guilty. there weren't many things you could do together without being seen, so chan took it upon himself to come up with fun, yet safe ways to spend your dates without being noticed. not that you needed it - as long as you were with him, what you did didn't matter, but your boyfriend had a heart of gold, so you couldn't tell him he didn't have to try so hard. 

“i love you,” the sincerity in his voice made you melt every time he said those three words. you’d never get bored of hearing them in person, not when you usually got them through messages or phone calls.  

“love you too,” you said, and kissed his lips softly, before rolling down the front of his hat. “but channie?” 

“hm?”

“maybe i can help you after all. i’m sure we’ll figure the maps out together.” 

“yeah i think that’s a good idea,” he let out a quiet giggle, and lowered the phone so you could see the screen. you put your arm around his waist, because your boyfriend’s personal space was also your personal space, and you quickly fell into a comfortable silence. if your legs weren’t aching, and tummy rumbling from the lack of food, you’d tease chan for giving up on his big boy job to get you home, but you didn’t want to make him feel any more guilty than he was already feeling.  

it was kind of ironic how you wanted to get away from the hussle of the city, and now ended up god knows where. 

“did you hear that?” he asked suddenly, turning his head towards the trees. 

you followed his gaze to where he was looking, but it was hard to make anything out in the darkness. “no, i don’t think so. maybe you just heard an animal or something,” you said. usually you weren't easily scared, chan was the scaredy-cat in your relationship, but the dark surroundings and lack of people did their job. especially since the boy in front of you suddenly acted like he had seen a ghost.

"i could’ve sworn," he muttered, looking around, "that i heard the clicking of a camera."

hearing this, you took a better look around you, because the sound of the camera didn't mean anything good in your case. 

"are you sure…" and that's when you heard it too.

click.

"chan?" you looked at your boyfriend, panicked. "what now?"

the boy grabbed your chin so that you wouldn't accidentally turn towards the person who apparently liked to follow people at night and take photos of them.

“don't turn around and listen to me,” chan swallowed, “we'll get on our bikes and leave.”

if you weren't panicked enough before, you definitely were now. "and this is your great plan?" you shouted at him quietly, as if the person hiding in the bushes could hear you.

"do you have a better idea, honey?"

you shook your head because no, you didn't, so all you really had was chan’s mistermind plan. running away from the paparazzi sounded crazy though, like something out of a bad rom-com, but what else were you supposed to do? the worst part was that you didn't know how long this person had been following you, or if they had just noticed you - and whether they realised who you actually were.

"on three?" chan ran his thumb along your chin. a small smirk appeared on his face, as if the idea of escaping on a bike was the best date idea ever. 

nodding, you took a few steps back to blindly find the handle of your bike. you finally managed to find the kickstand too and kicked it up, now fully ready for the craziest thing you were going to do this week.

"one."

everything will be fine.

"two."

what could go wrong?

"three!"

as if burned, you turned around, making sure to keep your head down so that your face wasn't visible, and jumped on the bike. you had never started pedalling so fast, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gave you more energy than ever. you just had time to turn around to see if the person had come out of the bushes to follow you, but you didn't see anything.

with new energy, you kept following your boyfriend, who, like you, was pedalling as fast as he could. what a pity that chan was a born dancer with thighs and an ass that many men envied, which meant you had to pedal twice as fast. what fun.

"i think we lost him!" you shouted so that he could hear you.

chan turned around with a huge smile on his face and you couldn't help but laugh. your hair was swirling around your face, and you had to grab your head to keep your own hat from falling off - that’s how fast you were running away from your new friend. who would have thought that the night would end like this. 

but suddenly, the smile on your boyfriend's face disappeared and was replaced by an expression of surprise and horror at the same time.

"he's on a bike!" he shouted.

what?!

you quickly looked behind you, a little scared of what you might see. and damn chan, but he wasn't wrong - the guy, even though he was a bit behind you, was riding a bike with a camera over his shoulder.

he looked comical, although you suspected you two didn't look any better.

"faster," chan shouted and turned to see where he was going, "we have to lose him!"

now it was no longer looking like a rom-com but a low-budget action movie with very bad actors and an even worse villain. you couldn't wait to do a live talking about how you ran away from some random dude on a bike. 

your thighs burned like hell, and you felt like you were slowly getting out of breath, but it didn't slow you down at all. you mentally thanked yourself for all those hours spent at the gym, though you’d never think they’d come in handy for a bike chase. 

“are you okay?” you heard chan yell. 

“yeah, keep going.” 

you wouldn’t let a weirdo with a camera beat you. 

you finally entered an area where buildings started to appear, and without thinking, you followed the boy in front of you as he turned into an alley that looked more than suspicious.

"is he still there?" 

you glanced behind you and like a maniac, the guy with the camera was still pedalling. 

"yes!"

"is he serious?"

you drove through the street and entered another one, making a sharp turn. it's a good thing you two weren't driving a car because you didn't know how much you could’ve trusted chan in a car chase. your boyfriend was driving fifty kilometres an hour, even when the limit was seventy.

a few turns later, you turned around again to see how far your friend was, and luckily he wasn't as fit as you, because you didn't see him anywhere. poor fella probably got tired. 

"i think we lost him!"

chan nodded but didn't slow down. who knew where this paparazzi could suddenly appear from. but to be honest, if you could you’d applaud him for his dedication, not everyone had the drive to chase two idols on a random tuesday night through the streets of seoul.

"baby," chan suddenly stopped and got off the bike. because of how fast you were going, your brakes squeaked when you pressed them. "come here." the boy jumped off his bike and looked at you before disappearing into the narrow alley.

you didn't even want to ask what he was doing, so without any questions you got off your bike and went in the direction where your boyfriend had just disappeared. the alley was very narrow, barely able to fit the two of you, let alone your bikes, but you somehow managed to hide yourselves, so you weren't visible from the main street.

"why..." but before you could finish your question, you heard someone panting, and a second later, right next to you, the paparazzi who had been chasing you for the last fifteen minutes biked past.

you snorted and poked your head out to make sure that the guy disappeared, or if he maybe had decided to look for you here. luckily he wasn't smart enough, and was nowhere in sight.

you looked at your boyfriend, who like you was out of breath, but oh so pleased with himself.

"you don't have to thank me," he said, and as if on cue, that annoyingly handsome smirk returned to his face.

“you idiot,” you huffed and pushed his arm.

"i told you today would be fun," he said and leaned in so that your foreheads were touching. now that your adrenaline was starting to wear off and you felt how exhausted you actually were, you realised how close you and chan were. 

yes, you were both sweaty and smelly as hell, and there were beads of sweat dripping from your boyfriend's forehead, but he seemed as handsome to you as ever. his messy hair, his chest rapidly rising up and down, the sleeves of his compression shirt hugging his strong biceps - he was a sight for sore eyes. 

and only for you to see. 

"you're right, lover boy," you said, because it was true. despite all your fear, you didn't think the guy managed to get any decent photos, and you'd worry about your companies later and in the end, you had a great time. "but do you know what?"

"what?" chan smiled cockily and leaned towards you.

just as he was about to kiss you, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away.

"we still have to get home somehow."

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot 

[rainydayathogwarts]

Precious, drunk boyfriend - Remus Lupin

Summary: In which Remus gets more drunk than he ever has and clings onto his girlfriend for dear life. Warnings: Public sex (but the room is empty), fingering, drunk sex (but consensual), established relationship wc: 1.4k

It was odd, to say the least. Remus Lupin was usually the more put together of the four boys; he smoked a cigarette by the open window with a beer in his hand, watching as the party roared around him. He would laugh at the sight of his best friends embarrassing themselves and always had open arms to welcome his girlfriend in, hugging you tightly as you drunkenly slurred words of affection at him. James now wondered if this was just payback for all the nights Remus had to look after them.

Remus hiccuped loudly, his head leaning back on the pillows. He tried straightening up with a wobble while James and Sirius exchanged a look of worry. "Where is she?" Remus slurred, looking around as he finally stood up. "She's gonna fucking kill us if she sees what we did to her precious boyfriend" Whisper-yelled Sirius as he and James rushed over behind Remus, who was confidently strutting over to where you and Marlene danced together. "Rem! Since when do you dance?" You giggled upon seeing your boyfriend, only to squeal when his hands snaked around your waist, harshly tugging you towards him.

You gasped, putting both your hands on his chest and looking up at him curiously. You were drunk enough to enjoy the special attention from your boyfriend, but not too much to miss the fact that this wasn't the ordinary Remus. "Remus?" He hummed distractedly, beginning to pull you towards the other side of the common room, where you instantly made eye contact with three very guilty looking teenage boys. "Peter, talk." You said, pointedly looking at the boy, knowing he could never lie to you. "Shh, don't look at Pete. You don't need him, just me." You couldn't help but laughing as your boyfriend pushed you down onto a couch. He sat down next to you, digging his head into the crook of your neck where he immediately started leaving kisses, whilst his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Your eyes widened when Remus started to suck on the soft skin on your neck and you looked back at James, Sirius and Peter. "What did you guys do to him?" Peter looked down at his shoes, beginning to mumble under his breath, but it was Sirius who finally spoke. "Well, we all took a couple of shots together but that was it! The rest was all him!" You looked at them suspiciously, trying to push away Remus's head from the crook of your neck.

"Rem? Remus, sweetheart?" He pulled away from your neck, only to trail his kisses upwards, pressing some on your jawline and the side of your face. "You're so beautiful." A kiss on your jawline. "How can you be so beautiful and smart and kind at the same time?" Another kiss. "Fuck, when you come to me and sit on my laps after classes..." He took a long pause, and for a second you thought he was asleep "You make me feel so important. I love you. Only love you." You smiled down at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes.

He wasn't going to remember anything in the morning.

"Rem?" "Mhmm?" "Want to come for a smoke with me?" And he was immediately up on his feet, tripping over air so that James had to clutch him by the shoulders so he wouldn't fall. Nothing would separate that boy from his cigarettes. You nodded your head towards the back of the main common room, making your way to a more secluded room within the common room, heading straight to the window. Remus blindly followed your footsteps, sitting in front of you on the window nook. He watched intently as you opened the window from your side, and leaned forward towards your boyfriend. You opened his jacket, reaching for the inner pocket where he kept his cigarettes hidden.

"You're not warm? Don't want to take it off?" He nodded, shuffling so he could take off his jacket, leaving him in a plain black tank top. Your eyes raked over his exposed muscular arms and you chuckled lightly, looking down at the box in your hands. "What? Too handsome for you?" Remus muttered, leaning back on the wall behind him with a smug grin on his face. You shook your head, getting on your knees to move closer to him. You didn't get the chance to sit back down before Remus' hands were on your hips, lifting you up slightly so he could plant you on his laps.

You moved to straddle him, directly facing him, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. One of his hands immediately migrated from your hip to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss so you were forced to open your mouth, allowing his tongue in. The hand on your hip moved to your front, beginning to unbutton the trousers you wore. You broke the kiss, panting "Remus, we can't!" "There's no one here though." "You're too drunk." He shook his head, both hands now working on your trousers, tugging them down your thighs as best he could with you straddling him.

"You're not taking advantage of me. Jus' wanna make you feel nice." His hand slipped down the front of your lacy underwear, immediately finding your clit, which he started rubbing circles on. You gasped, hips immediately bucking away from his cold touch. "Light?" Murmured Remus, looking up at you, then down at the pack of cigarettes in your hand. You nodded, reaching for a cigarette and lighting it up before putting it to your lips and inhaling deeply. You guided it between Remus' awaiting lips, and he mimicked your movements, blowing the cigarette away from your face. His hand continued its movements, and he inserted two fingers in your wet entrance.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, watching where they connected with your entrance, his second hand holding your underwear to the side so he could see. You cried out, his pace quickening, his palm applying pressure on your clit every time he pumped his fingers inside your pussy. You tried squeezing your thighs together for more friction, throwing your head back in disappointment. "So needy. I'm already giving you my fingers and you want more?" You nodded your head at him, but whined when he laughed, grinding your hips down on his stilling hands. "Please, please Rem." You begged, your head digging into the crook of his neck.

You mimicked his earlier actions, starting to suck hickeys on his neck as his pace began to slowly increase again. His free hand followed your arm that was hanging over his shoulder, and he snatched the cigarette from between your fingers. He inhaled again, his breath hitching when you sucked on his sweet spot and he coughed out a moan, the white smoke dispersing in the room. You smiled against his neck, which he must have felt, because his pace on your cunt became unforgivably fast, the pressure on your clit becoming too much for you.

Your thighs started shaking and you rolled your hips, riding Remus' hand in search for your release. He twisted his hand, hitting a new angle inside of you which had you unraveling on top of him, almost as though he had just been teasing you the whole time. You moaned loudly, trying to bury your moans in Remus' neck, but they still echoed in the small room. You whimpered as Remus removed his hand from your cunt, the burning sensation in your thighs beginning to soothe. Your jaw went slack, gaping at Remus, who put his fingers in his mouth, humming contently as he tasted your juices. He wiped the excess saliva on his trousers so he could help you back into yours. He zipped and buttoned you up as you observed him, still in a daze.

Remus smiled up at you, offering you what was left of the cigarette. You took a long drag, settling down on Remus' laps, who tapped you on the ass as a sign to get up. "Come on sweetheart, let's go get you cleaned up." You staggered up, and Remus, now seemingly sober, took your hand in his as he re-pocketed the cigarette pack, leading you out of the room. When you got to the main common room, heading towards the stairs, you made eye contact with Sirius, who grinned widely at your shaky figure, eyes going back and forth between you and a satisfied Remus.

[venusbby]

post it, or don't ♡

characters/pairings: itoshi rin x reader

warnings: one cuss word lol, not proofread sorry if there's any typos!!! have a good day people.

✿ summary: your tired boyfriend is not a big fan of your spam account being filled with his overly cute photos.

"stop that—"

"stop what?"

"you're taking pictures of me."

"im not, rinnie."

you definitely were.

how could you not take pictures of him when he's sprawled out on top of you like a house cat?

although he was trying his best not to put all of his weight on you, it was impossible to control himself. especially when his body was quite sore from his new workout routine.

rin was unusually clingy today, his exhaustion was responsible for that. initially, all he needed was to lie down on the bed and let his muscles rest against the mattress— but then he realised you were already there, scrolling through your social media.

he just couldn't say no when you opened your arms and called out to him with that soft voice of yours, and he had already started to dream of the satisfying feeling of your hands running through his hair by that time.

and that's how he ended up with his face nestled in your neck and his legs tangled with yours, much to your enjoyment and his instant regret when you clicked on the camera icon and watched the mess of the dark green hair that tickled your cheek.

he didn't realise anything at first because his eyes were closed and he was actually considering falling asleep right then and there. however, the clicking sound of your phone was enough to make him groan and hide his face further.

but your laugh was so soft yet contagious, right next to his ear, and he was holding onto that one string of hope that you wouldn't record a video of his immediate complaints.

"babyyy, say hi!" you said while doing the exact thing he didn't want you to do— recording a video. it was so fun to get on his nerves sometimes.

all he could do was give the side of your bare hips a light squeeze as he tried his best to speak quietly so the video wouldn't pick up what he was saying. "you make me fucking miserable."

your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled. "alright, okay. i've got my pictures, im satisfied. i'll leave you alone now."

rin slowly peeked up when you placed your phone on the bedside table and shot a glare as you looked down at him. "you're not posting that. i'm tired of seeing my face on my own feed."

"yeah! totally not posting that."

"y/n." it's become a daily thing for him to use your name in that warning tone. "not even the paparazzi post as many pictures of me as you do."

you rolled your eyes. "it's because i'm your biggest fan. just one?"

"no."

"rinnie, pretty please. you just look so cute. gosh, you look even cuter right now." you tried to soften his edges a bit, feeling your chest implode with love because God, your boyfriend was so effortlessly cute. especially when his tired eyes were covered with his dark strands.

all you got in return was a grunt and rin was back to burying his face in the crook of your neck. he really didn't have the energy to deal with your weird ways of convincing. he just needed sleep, and you— he had both of his favourite things now.

you knew he granted you permission once he stopped, or more like gave up, and thanked him softly.

rin hummed as your hands ran over his neck and shoulders and lightly pressed his stiff muscles. a massage to top it all off, your boyfriend was quite literally seeing stars.

"squeeze harder," he mumbled, exhaling slowly when you did as he told you to.

"so, you've been working out."

he didn't respond, waiting for you to say something more related to that as you pondered while pressing your thumb into his skin to ease out the tension.

"don't i deserve a photo or two?" you proposed, a shameless grin on your face when you heard your lover make another noise in annoyance.

"maybe if you don't post that video," rin said, planting a quick kiss against your warm neck as he continued, knowing he had found a good solution. "i'll send you some."

and a few days later, you realised that it was a pretty good deal.

fjskfjskfndmcndkv. this is all i have to show. bye fellow rin enjoyers.

[gigi-loveless]

Regina George esque reader who is in a situationship with Hazel and hazel fucks reader into admitting they have genuine feelings for Hazel, loser Hazel because that’s still hot to me

HOLY SHIT YES

listen to hazels spotify here, and her taylor swift jam session here ₊ ⊹₊ ⊹

reqs are open!

18+ under the cut

your life is spent terrorizing the halls of rockbridge in mini skirts and high heels. you’re untouchable, able to do anything that you please. teachers and students alike cower at the sound of your high heels click clacking through the hallway.

but, one girl never cowers.

you adore her; her shaggy brunette hair, her soft skin, the way she always smelled of musk and ivy. you love the fact that she was a loser, escaping your high profile life in between the sheets.

but she doesn’t know just how much you love her.

you were the queen of rockbridge, how are you supposed to come out guns ablazing that not only are you fucking the resident loser lesbian, but you’re in love with her? feelings are always be kept down, and you must keep a level head. nothing can get in your way with that mindset.

the sound of the bell ringing coincided with hazel slamming you against the wall of the janitors closet, pinning you down with her muscular arms.

“miss me?”

“you wish.” you spat back at her.

“my house, eight?” she asks, lips centimeters away from yours, teasing you.

“only if you promise to not be a fucking tease.” desperately grinding your heat into her thigh.

“oh baby,” she replies, “you know i don’t make promises like that.”

you hobble out, readjusting your skirt, and school continues like normal, besides hazel obviously checking you out in 6th period, to which you roll your eyes and scoff at her. it’s near impossible to do that to her, to crush her soul like that. all you want to do is run over and apologize and kiss her better.

a super moon just peeks out out from behind the clouds as you park in hazels driveway. as always, she whisks you away up into her room, stripping you before you could even think twice.

“hazel…please…” she kisses you passionately, hands still working clumsily to unbutton your skirt and discard it.

“lay down for me, angel.” god rest the soul who ever disrespects hazel callahan, so you obey. “being such a tease for me today, hm? with that little skirt, and that fucking top…” her sentence trails off as her tongue flicks across your nipple, making you groan loudly.

“you’re a cunt.”

“i know baby, but someone has to be brave enough to put the princess in her place.” hazel dips down, her rings cooling your heat, feeling your wetness. “and what might all that be for?”

“you….” you exhale into her as she slips two fingers in almost agonizingly slow. “h-h-hazel….” your eyes instinctively shut, until you suddenly remember her rule about eye contact.

“ah ah ah, eyes on me, got it?” her pumps begin to get increasingly harder, your knuckles going as white as the sheets in fists. she might look like a loser on the outside, but she knows what she’s capable of, and god does she get it hot taming the queen bee.

“alright angel, you get your reward now for being good and keeping eye contact, okay?” you nod as she leans down and plunges her face into between your legs, making you howl and writhe underneath her. there’s nothing in this world like hazels tongue. just as she gets into a rhythm, her two fingers curl up inside your walls again, making you shriek.

everything is black, all you can feel is your orgasm incoming.

“hazel- i’m- im….”

“come for me bab-“

“i’m- iloveyou…iloveyou….”

riding the high from your orgasm off, you return to earth, where hazel is staring over you with those saucer-like eyes of hers.

“did…okay i might just be hearing things…but did you say you love me?” your face goes red, realizing what you’d done, but you can’t lie to the girl.

“y-yeah….uhm..i think i should leave.” you start to gather your clothes, but as you’re rushing out, you knock right into hazel.

“it’s okay….i’m not upset…i….i need you. not just in this way,” she gestures towards the bed, “but like, in a…a new way. if- if you want to try. i’m really good at keeping secrets…”

“hazel, you know we can’t….”

“why? because jeff is gonna cream in his pants from seeing two girls together?” she sits you down on the bed, holding your hand. “i like you, so so much. i like that you’re mean, i like that you have a soft spot for me that you think isn’t obvious at all but it totally is, i like that you are so confident, i like that you’re creative….i like everything about you. i want to make this work, but only if you’re open to it….”

you nod, and connect your lips, feeling a new sense, a new spark, between you.

“you melt my heart, hazel callahan.”

[themultifanshipper]

Heyy sooo I was thinking “I love you but right now I just need you to bend over and take it” with George and reader! Maybe George has a breeding kink and after seeing her with his family kids over the holiday he really wants to get her pregnant?? Maybe boat sex since they were all on a boat?? 😅

This was the last straw for George. Seeing you interact with his nieces and nephews during family gatherings was bad enough, but the way you were now taking care of them during summer vacation as if they were your own was igniting a perverse hunger within George, and he was determined to do something about it.

Warnings: Smut, panty gag, boat sex, specifically yacht sex, semi-public sex?, idk if benjy has a son, oc if not, dirty talk, breeding kink, george just being feral tbh, no prep, bad etiquette, but no pain bc this is fiction. Perhaps an intervention is in order? Idk

Requested from my prompt list

It came to a head when you were cooking on the yacht for his nephew.

That day it was just you, George, his brother Benjy, and benjy's son. The rest of the family had decided to stay firmly on land for the day.

The little guy was hungry and you had volunteered to make a plate of his favorite pasta, leaving him up on the deck with his father.

George was sat behind you watching you work, whipping up a quick sauce and waiting for the water to boil.

It drove George nuts how attentive you were to his family members’ needs and how well you had integrated into the family.

And seeing you look after kids was the cherry on top, and made him think more and more about starting a family of his own.

The two of you had agreed though, no kids as long as George was an f1 driver. You didn't want to put that kind of strain on your family, and if something were to happen to him you didn't want your kid growing up without a father.

But the two of you had needs, and condoms were a bit of a hassle when you have sex as much as you two did, so you got an implant. In theory it was impossible to get you pregnant.

That wasn't going to stop George from giving it a bloody good go, though.

“How long is the pasta supposed to take?” he asked as you poured it in to the boiling water.

“About six minutes?” you replied “why?”

You hadn't noticed him set an alarm, then sneak up behind you until his hands were wrapped around your waist and he lifted you up and away from the stove.

“Good, plenty of time for me to fill you up” he growled into your ear as you squealed and writhed in his hold.

“George-!”

He pushed you down onto the table and made quick work of your shorts and underwear, dragging them down you legs and stuffing your panties in you mouth. “I love you but right now I just need you to bend over and take it”

You tried to protest through the cotton but it was no use, he grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back.

“Can't have the kid hearing what we're doing down here. What kind of parents would that make us?”

You moaned as he slid his tip over your quickly dampening folds. “Don't have time to prep you, baby. Think you can take me just like this?”

You shuddered and moaned through the fabric and he chuckled.

“Of course you can take me. You can take everything I give you because you're such a good girl, aren't you?”

George’s praise never failed to make you melt, and your body slumped over the table so that your legs wouldn’t have to take any weight.

He held you down as he slid inside you slowly, your back arching against his hold.

To say he was gentle would have been a lie. He was rough and demanding, but passionate, as he plastered himself over your back and bullied his cock deep into your tight heat.

“Going to come inside you, baby. Gonna fill you up until your dripping and begging me to stop.” He rasped in your ear as his hips sped up and his breathing got heavier. “God you have no idea how fucking feral it makes me seeing you with kids. Makes me want to breed you, force you to make me one of my own.”

Your walls fluttered around him and he chuckled darkly in your ear.

“You like that, darling? You want to be so full of me it makes you a mother?”

You gasped and nodded, and tried in vain to tell him you were close through the gag, but you didn't need to. George knew your body like the back of his hand and he could already feel you clenching rhythmically around him.

“Go on baby, come for me. Milk my cock, there you go. My perfect little cumslut”

You could feel your toes curl as the feeling of bliss took over your body and you pulled George over the edge with you, his hips slamming into you, trying to get his seed as deep as he could.

Just then the alarm rang on his phone for the pasta that was now ready.

“Perfect timing” George laughed as he pulled out and took your spit soaked panties out of your mouth to let you get on with the food.

“Indeed, can I have my underwear back please?” you asked, picking up your shorts and putting your hand out.

“Oh no, I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart” George just pocketed them, despite your protests, and smirked at you.

“Your implant is effective like 99% of the time, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him

“-ish, why?”

“Because I'm going to beat the odds and fill you up a hundred times until it takes”

His logic was flawed, bless his heart, but you couldn't deny that the idea of him using you over and over again like an animal in heat sent a shiver down your spine, and your pussy clenched in protest.

“Now I'll take the food up, and when I come back I want you in the bedroom, ready to be filled up again.”

He quickly prepped the plate and disappeared up the steps, leaving you dripping down your legs and shocked at his words.

Maybe when this implant ran out, you were going think twice before replacing it…

[riotlain]

Trap Making Reader

offically BACK and congrats youre jigsaw now

also if my writing still gives off like 2021ish then just idk enjoy it idk

no bubba or thomas since i was very unsure of how that would work since they in middle of nowhere

NWLNW BLOG !! WOMEN DNI

Poly Ghostface

Your traps were getting on the news, almost as much as their kills were!

They just had to track you down and maybe kill you- and they ended up in one of your traps

You were gonna kill them but then Stu wasn't gonna have his giant party!

After a deal maybe even a couple dates and kills the big party arrived. You had your traps all nice and set up in Stu's place for people to fall into while they were busy tormenting and killing

Imagine in this world, they actually get away with the party (their plan was very stupid shh you have the brain in this world)

You 3 will now live happily ever after killing people in more elaborate ways

OK NOW TO DYNAMICS

Billy's first impression of you was mainly jealousy and a hint of being impressed but mostly jealousy

After meeting and becoming friends and maybe even gay lovers, he likes giving you cool ideas for traps

Of course they're all bases around horror movies

Stu's first impression of you was he was hella impressed! But getting put in an almost saw trap did freak him out with the possibility of death

When actually dating he also loves giving you trap ideas, albeit very elaborate and probably impossible traps for you to make

You're a killing genius in his eyes

He loves incorporating Ghostface into your traps, whether its just standing there while the person struggles or actually killing them himself

Jason Voorhees

Jason has his traps and he likes them. They're simple and easy to get.

You on the other hand have much more insane things. But Jason can't lie he does love the reverse bear trap

Your traps are reserved for the worst of the worst in your eyes while Jason is just for anyone in the camp

You can't resist his puppy eyes though if he wants to use one of your traps (he stares at you blankly and menacingly until you agree)

Camp Crystal Lake now has much more interesting rumors spreading thanks to you

Michael Myers

He met you after watching you kidnap his victim

He was planning on killing you, he did not care but then he ended up following you and interrupting one of your traps

He doesn't care how expensive it was that was his target you can't share targets

Upon actually dating, he looms over your shoulder whenever you're busy planning

He doesn't take part in your traps he just likes staring its literally his thing

He could help you kidnap your victims but he isn't the kidnapping type he's not interested

No he will not grab you food or drinks while you work do it yourself

Vincent Sinclair

You were supposed to be one of their victims until you ended up making a trap out of nothing but glass, string, and the interworking of your mind

He was impressed he's an artist after all

He helps you sketch out ideas for traps and even helps set it up

He's like a genius, have you seen the town

You two have to keep each other in check don't overwork yourselves

You definitely help make the town somewhat more lively but also more gorey

You have to deal with Bo though but like he doesn't get too much in the way

The only times he doesn't like your traps is when they completely destroy the body like that was supposed to be the next statue😒

Bo Sinclair

Similar situation with Vincent except his was more like a deal offering with you

You two probably started off hating each other but you work together so it doesn't matter

Once you're dating yes he is very affectionate it doesn't matter what you're up to

Busy making a trap? Well he's behind you holding you

You help play into the whole act of the town by being somewhat normal

You're offputting but who isn't in this town

Chromeskull

He fell for you when he saw your traps on the news

Call that parasocial but he needs to know who this mastermind is

He has you tracked down and brought to him so he can yknow shoot his shot

He's rich, mute and a big attractive serial killer like who wouldn't want him

After a couple of maybe or maybe not forced dates you two are a powercouple

He spoils you most definitely. He will pay for your traps and whatever else you need

[delicatebarness]

if walls could talk

Summary: Tension between you grows as your secret relationship adds a thrill to your pre-show warm-up. You and Bucky, the band's bassist and drummer, steal a passionate, heated moment backstage.

Warning: Explicit Sexual Content- Under 18s DNI. Public Sex. Exhibitionism.

Word Count: 1303

The Tour Setlist | Support: Ko-FI

Edit A/N: This is now a stand alone. It did not get picked up from Prologue Season this time round 🥺🫣 Hopefully these two make a comeback.

A/N: Oh look another prologue for 'Prologue Season'. This one is just pure smut, I won't lie. Also, the tour setlist is all 5 Seconds of Summer songs, that’s the kinda vibe I have for the band. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

If Walls Could Talk: @inlovewith505 | @justaspeachy | If you would like to be tagged, let me know.

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes

Lost beneath the muffled roar of the crowd, the door of your dressing room slammed behind you. Imagining the pulsing light, thundering bass, and the crowd screaming, you became high on adrenaline. But now, your mind was elsewhere as Bucky was already on you. 

Grabbing your waist, he pulled you into him before you could say a word. As he pressed you against the door, your skirt rode up and his lips crashed down on yours. You moaned into his mouth, and your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt. 

“Fuck baby, you look good,” Bucky growls against your lips while sliding a hand under your skirt, his fingers brushing the waistband of your pants. 

With a smirk, you pushed back against him. “You like the pink Docs, huh?” you teased, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his hip. Your thigh pressed against the bulge in his jeans. 

He grunts, curving his lips into a grin as his other hand trails higher up your thigh. “You know I do.” 

You deliberately picked out tonight’s outfit– a black skater skirt, a ripped band tee from his favorite band, and the bubblegum pink Doc Martens that always drove him crazy.  When you put it on, you knew exactly what you were doing. And so did he. Bucky never could resist when you dressed like this.

Tugging his hair, you pulled him into another kiss, only messier this time. Your tongues slide against each other, and his rough, calloused hands cupped your ass. He dug his fingers into your skin causing a gasp to escape your lips.

“We don’t have time,” you whispered, trying to convince yourself more than him as your hips ground against him, the heat pooling between your legs. He was hard and insistent, and it only made the need for him burn hotter within you.

“We’ll make time,” he smirked, pushing your pants aside and sliding two fingers between your folds. A low chuckle escaped his lips as he felt your wetness. The anticipation for this exact moment had built up since the second you stepped into the dressing room. As his lips found your neck, he pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow and delicate circles, making your head fall back against the door. 

You tried to stay quiet, biting your lip, but it was impossible as he slid inside you, curling just right. You gripped onto his shoulders, digging your nails into the skin that was slightly exposed as he moved his hand faster. You struggled to stay on your feet as his teeth grazed against your skin, biting down lightly. 

“Buck–” you breathed, barely able to form words as his fingers moved relentlessly. “I’m gonna–” 

Just then, a knock on the door came, moments before you were about to lose it. 

“We don’t want to know what’s going on in there, but you better wrap it up!” Sam’s voice echoed through the door, soon followed by Steve’s laugh. 

Bucky grinned against your neck, refusing to stop. His fingers pumped faster into you, his thumb rubbed harder against your clit, and the moans, loud enough to make you blush, slip from your lips. Bucky slaps a hand over your mouth, your eyes grow wide staring up at him, but the bastard just smirks as he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“You wanna finish for me, baby?” His voice was taunting, sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. “Don’t hold back. Come for me, right now.” 

His fingers pushed you over the edge, and you tried to keep quiet as your body began to tremble with the orgasm ripping through you. You bit down hard on the hand muffling your cries, and your legs shook as the pleasure washed over you in hot, pulsing waves. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, he watched every second as his expression switched to one more dark and possessive. He slowed his movements, drawing out every last bit of your release. 

He pulled his fingers out and began undoing his belt, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked his jeans down just enough to free himself. The sight of him made your already tingling body shiver. 

“Turn around,” he ordered, his rough voice leaving no room for argument. 

Doing as he said, you turned using your hands to brace against the door. He hiked your skirt up around your hips as he tore open a condom. Then, in one swift movement, he was inside you, slamming into you with one hard thrust. You gasped, digging your nails into the wood of the door. 

“You feel so good, baby,” he groaned, gripping your hips as started to move, fast and rough. Desperate for more of him, you pushed back against him as your cheek pressed against the door to try and keep quiet. The wetness between your legs, his body slapping against yours, and the sounds of the distant roar of the crowd, all blurred together in the haze of heat. 

You could barely keep up with Bucky’s brutal pace, your body pinned against the door as he fucked you like he couldn’t get enough. He tightened his grip on your hips, digging fingers into your skin, bound to leave bruising, but you didn’t care. You wanted it– needed it.

Sam and Steve were talking outside, but it was just noise to you, backgrounding the way Bucky’s cock filled you, stretched you, and made you see the stars with each thrust. Your body coiled tight, as you were ready to snap.

“I’m close, Bucky,” you pant, pushing back, desperate to reach another high.

“Oh yeah? You wanna come again, baby?” he groaned, leaning over you and slipping a hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in rough, tight circles. “Do it. Come for me.” 

That was all you needed. 

You cried out, your second orgasm hitting you like a freight train. The pleasure tore through you, nails scratching against the door as you rode out the wave, your body shaking. Bucky thrust harder, faster, his movement becoming erratic as he chased his own release. It wasn’t long before you felt him tense behind you, and a low rumbling came from his chest as he slammed into you once last time, spilling into the condom as his cock twitched against you.

The air in the room was thick with the smell of sex, and for a short moment, it was just the two of you, panting and tangled together. You tried to steady your breathing while he rested his forehead against your back. 

But then, another knock. Only this time, louder.

“I swear to god if you’re still in there–” It was Steve’s voice this time, it was clear he was running out of patience. 

You glanced back at Bucky, and despite everything, you both burst into laughter. After pulling out of you, he quickly disposed of the condom as you fixed your skirt, and smoothed out your hair with shaky hands. Your heart continued to race, the rush of what happened left you feeling exhilarated, and more alive than ever. 

Bucky gave you a playful smack on the ass as he opened the door, smirking toward Sam and Steve. “Relax, we’re ready.” 

“You two are going to be the death of me,” Steve crossed his arms, giving you both his disapproving look. Sam just shook his head, a grin plastered across his face. 

You couldn’t help but blush as Bucky shrugged unapologetically. Grabbing your bass, the familiar weight grounded you as you slung it over your shoulder. Bucky walked beside you as the four of you moved toward the stage, excitement from the crowds vibrated through the walls. But, all you could think about was the way his hand gently brushed against yours, your little secret still burning between you.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 24

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Poorly written smut; pregnancy hormones absolutely get a warning

A/N: I kinda love this chapter.

There was a chill in the house without a fire being burned overnight. Too many walkers made the light a liability. You had your leggings and a pair of sweats, a long sleeve shirt and a sweater, your two pairs of socks, and your jacket. Carol was going to sleep next to you while Daryl took his turn on watch that night. The woman was the complete opposite of your partner. She was a human icebox. “Jesus, Carol, your hands are freezing!” You could feel the frigid skin beneath the fabric of her gloves. “Here, put them inside my coat.” She was shaking her head even as you guided her hands under either of your arms, shivering from the sudden cold where you were much warmer. Maybe you’d tell Daryl she was staying next to you when he came to lie down. Sure, he’d grumble and groan, but he’d never let Carol freeze.

“Thank you.” The other woman sighed, moving a little closer to you. The archer had tucked the blankets around you before you had invited Carol to share.

“You’re welcome. Do you have enough of the blanket?” She nodded and snuggled against you, full on laughing when the baby gave her a swift punch to the midsection. “Yeah, sorry. Thumper is lively tonight.” You twisted your head around as far as you could manage to ensure no one had been disturbed.

“Don’t apologize. Probably just knows I’m not daddy and isn’t happy about that.”

She was absolutely right. At 34 weeks, the baby seemed to sense when Daryl was around, just as he seemed to know just when to put his hand over the swell to calm them. Moving from place to place was getting harder and harder for you. The groups of walkers seemed to be everywhere, each town full of the people who had tried to persevere, only to become one of the dead. Sometimes you would find a place, settle in, only to run two hours later. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, and Thumper could feel it. The baby would move relentlessly, only adding fuel to your anxiety and making rest impossible.

Until Daryl would intervene. 

It started the same night he had first taken the weight of the baby for you. 

Daryl stood there with you for at least an hour, bracing you against him and giving your bones and muscles a well deserved break. When he began to tire, he simply walked backwards to lean against the wall. It wasn’t until you were nearly falling asleep, he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroll, an extra blanket on top of it to give your body some support. He was expected to take watch soon but they would come collect him when it was time. So he crawled under another blanket with you, molding himself around your back, still without a single word. You were warm and felt safe, but once you had tried to sleep, Thumper became restless; rolling and kicking until you were nearly sobbing with exhaustion.

“Baby, please, mama’s so tired. Please, just—”

“Listen, kid.” You had barely registered that Daryl had moved at all, holding himself up on one hand while he leaned over your side, the other hand planted firmly on your round abdomen. The tone he used was one you hadn’t heard from him before: soft but serious, no nonsense but comforting. “Ya gotta give your mama a break. World ain’t great out here right now, an’ she needs to sleep. I promise ya ain’t gotta be scared or—or nervous. M’gonna make sure you an’ your mama are safe.” You didn’t say anything, didn’t move, barely breathed. While the baby didn’t go still, the movements calmed to flutters and ripples. “There ya go.” When he started to lie back, he caught the look on your face and flushed, ducking his head. “Book says they can hear ya. Thought it might help.”

His damn books. You could kick yourself for how frustrated you’d get with him when he only ever used the knowledge for your benefit. “It did. My god, you’re the baby whisperer.” You smiled, snuggling against him. “You’re gonna be the best daddy, Daryl. I hope you know that.” You were met with nothing more than his breath against the back of your neck. “I love you.” There was a flex of his fingers on your stomach, proving he was awake. You never said it with the expectation of him saying it back. It was simply part of your process to continue reassuring him that this was his family. He had a partner and a child, both who adored him. With your hand on top of his, the three of you slept.

No one woke him for watch.

He talked to the baby constantly now. Not one of those dads that used your bump as a pillow and had full conversations with the fetus, but would check in, let the baby know what he was doing. Whether a boy or a girl, Thumper definitely already favored their daddy. That was something with which you were fine. You wanted their relationship to be special. You weren’t afraid of not bonding with your child, but worried that Daryl feared he would never do so himself. That he might even let that fear sabotage him. 

As if keeping time inside your womb, the strong movements intensified, Thumper now expecting the presence of their father; demanding it, even. With a sigh, you opened your eyes. Carol wasn’t asleep, but smiling tenderly, finally having found some warmth even if it meant cage fighting with your unborn child. 

“S’this?” Came a rough whisper from above. You simply rolled your head to meet Daryl’s curious gaze and caught Carol’s elbow when she immediately tried to remove herself from the equation. 

“Carol’s cold and Thumper says you’re late.” To the other woman, the archer probably looked angry but you knew that look. The furrowed brow and squinted eyes. 

“Well, ya gonna make room or what?”

He didn’t like the idea of Carol in his space. He didn't need to vocalize that, and he didn’t. Carol removed herself almost completely but didn’t attempt to find somewhere when she found you watching her. You knew she’d try if only to ease Daryl’s discomfort. You weren’t thrilled that he’d be ill at ease but Carol needed to be warm and the man was literally a walking fireplace. You’d be between them, looking at him, while the three of you shared warmth. 

It took a good amount of effort—and Daryl’s assistance—for you to roll over. The woman now at your back was whispering apologies at not being the one to move when you waved a hand at her. 

“Just lay down, Carol.” You laughed as quietly as you could manage. “Snuggle as close as you can to me, okay?” Her blue eyes lifted to Daryl, now propped on his elbow in front of you. He gave her a nod before you felt the blankets being arranged and her front against your back. Her presence didn’t bother you at all. And you could have told her that Daryl would have never let her lie where he was anyway. It would mean there was a door behind you and he never let there be a way for a threat to get you without going through him. You were too tired and ready to snuggle into a warm chest. You could tell her the next day. When everyone was settled and still, you smiled tiredly at him. “Hi.”

He didn’t get to answer before practically your entire stomach shifted with Thumper’s movement. “S’like watching a fuckin’ alien movie.” Daryl grunted, fingers working down the zipper of your jacket enough to slip his hand inside and splay his fingers open across your belly. 

“Don’t say that.” You whined. Your nightmares had been plagued with imagery of a walker baby gnawing its way from your womb. You hadn’t told him about the dreams, didn’t want to put the idea in his head that it was even a possibility. True to Dixon form, however, he surprised you.

“I think ‘bout it too.” He whispered, his hand gliding back over forth over your abdomen. “Wouldn’t be no heartbeat when Hershel checks ‘em though an’ s’there. Everyday.” You sighed deeply, smiling like a lovesick idiot and snuggling against his chest while your baby already began to settle beneath his palm. “What?”

“Just thanking my lucky stars, as my daddy would suggest at this moment.” 

Daryl snorted. “What for?”

Carol shifted at your back and hummed in her sleep, her body already warm against you. “You. Thumper. This little family.” You wanted to be closer to him but without crawling under his skin, it wouldn’t be possible. And yet you were wrong. Daryl moved, angling his hip toward you so the weight of the baby could rest on him instead of pulling toward the floor. From that position, you were able to press almost flatly against his chest in complete relaxation. “Goddamnit, Daryl Dixon, I fucking love you.”

He hummed, nuzzling his cheek against your head. “So ya keep sayin’.”

“And I’ll keep saying it, too. Get used to it.”

Another day, another drive. It was cold. The breeze from Daryl’s window wasn’t helping anything, but you dared not speak it. Even with the ventilation, all you could smell was the burning tobacco. Why the man would be smoking after pneumonia nearly killed him was something you probably would never understand. Regardless, he was considerate about it. He always made sure the smoke was never blowing in your direction. It wasn’t even something that you found unappealing. Quite the opposite. Daryl made smoking look like less of a habit and more of something that was just a natural part of him. Even with your super senses, the smell didn’t bother you. It never had.

And it wasn’t bothering you at the moment either, but that didn’t matter. He was. 

“You realize that you nearly drowned from fluid in your lungs just a few weeks ago, right?” It was a jab, unnecessary and was meant to make you feel better, but couldn’t have been further away from that result. Absolutely no one would have missed the way he clenched his jaw, barely relaxing it enough for the next drag.

“Ya realize that bein’ pregnant ain’t a excuse to be a bitch all’a the time, right?” There was an immediate spasm of regret in his expression, his hand tightening on the wheel. “Didn’t mean that. M’sorry.” Kudos to Daryl for not holding in an apology after snapping, even if the apology wasn’t need because he was 100% correct. You slumped down in the seat. One hand rubbed your itchy belly while the other reached for his forearm and squeezed it gently until his grip loosened. 

“Don’t apologize. I deserved that.” You knew full well that you were being unbearable, even if it was something beyond your control at points. You had laid into the poor man for commenting that he should go through the bags and grab you a larger sweater because you looked uncomfortable in the one that now had to stretch to accommodate the changes in your body. He hadn’t argued when you called him an inconsiderate dick and spewed off anger and insults that you couldn’t even recall.

“Nah.” He flicked the cigarette out the window. “Don’t ever deserve me or anyone else talkin’ to ya like that, pregnant or not.” Those pretty blue eyes were catching the sun just right to give them a crystal shine as he watched the road. You didn’t miss the way they flitted down to your hand still on his arm, nor did you miss his left hand start to move toward it but retract. 

You gave him a smile, one that he began to fidget underneath. With a jerk upward of his arm, he prompted you to let go. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you looked away, picking absently at the front of the oversized sweater he had dug out for you regardless of your tantrum.

Five and a half weeks left before you’d be roughly around forty weeks, which meant you could safely go into labor after the next week or so. While you were thrilled at the prospect of meeting Thumper, you were terrified of giving birth. So much could go wrong and there just wasn't the available equipment to ensure either comfort or safety. The thought of battling through without even the option of pain relief was daunting. You’d seen the movies, and though Lori had assured you they were all on the dramatic side, she did warn you that contractions were not still not fun. She refused to go through her birth story, wary of aggravating your nerves even more. She did add that every woman’s body was different and she couldn’t tell you much more than that. 

So what did you do? Naturally, you grabbed up one of Daryl’s books. You had placed it back in his bag after only two pages, fear doubling with anxiety to tag team in constricting your chest. He wasn’t any help, having no time to read lately. He was going by Lori’s advice and what he was learning from your cues. He was doing the best he could and you were thankful for him, even if you didn’t always show it.

Glancing over at him, slouched behind the wheel with his left thumb dragging back and forth over his bottom lip, you felt a pulse between your legs. Even with that god awful poncho, he was so fucking attractive. You’d barely let him touch you recently. He never seemed upset about it, always just pulling you closer after the initial don’t touch me had worn off. He never tried again, never questioned. Just rolling with the punches to ensure you had what you needed.

And at that very moment, your body was screaming that you needed him.

“Daryl.”

“Hmm?” He didn’t look over but your tone was level, seemingly unbothered. 

“I need you to pull over.” You licked your lips but he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did. The man had an eagle eye and an elephant brain. He glanced at you and then back to the road.

“Gotta piss again?”

Charming. “Yeah.” He always went with you now, standing on the other side of the tree so you didn’t feel like he had followed you into the bathroom. If he continued that trend this time, you’d beg him once out of sight and earshot of the group.

“One sec.” He blew the horn once, the signal to the group, and maneuvered the truck to the side of the road, just shy of the ditch. “C’mon then.” He got out and shut his own door but you didn’t move. Just as he knew your routine, you knew his. He rounded the front and opened the door for you, offering his arms to lift you from the seat and place your feet on the ground. There was a bit of strain on his face, but you tried to ignore it. The weight was from pregnancy. It’s the baby, it’s the baby. Don’t think about your weight right now.

“Thank you.” You patted his cheek and placed your hands on the small of your back, pushing your belly outward. “It’s fine.” You chuckled without even looking at him. The door had yet to shut which meant he was watching you instead. “Just stiff. Come on, I really have to pee.” Lie, lie, lie. You really needed his fingers stretching you open, his thumb against your throbbing clit. Maybe his mouth. 

“Jesus, woman. Slow down.” He huffed, having no trouble keeping stride with you. He was, of course, concerned that you’d fall in your haste. You stopped at a large oak, biting your lip with a nod. A glance back revealed the group was beyond visibility, but you’d have to be quiet. That was going to be difficult with how wound up you were. “G’on. I’ll be right here.” His back was already against the rough bark. You were suddenly reminded of the bite against your skin the day he came inside you for the first time.

Daryl reached for his knife, intent on toying with it, cleaning from underneath his nails with the sharp tip but your hand halted him from even unlatching the sheath. With a frown, he looked you over. You watched the slow process toward realization.

“Don’t really need to piss, do ya?”

“No.” You were already dragging your sweats and leggings down to your knees, taking hold of his wrist and all but slapping his hand against your damp panties. “Please.” Using your grip to hold him still, you ground your hips down for friction that would surely bring some sense of relief. “Please, Daryl.” With a sigh, he stepped forward and turned you so that your back was against his chest. He must have been feeling frustrated. How many times had you nearly had his digits slipping inside you before your body changed its mind? God, your poor partner likely had balls as blue as his eyes.

“S’alright. Y’should know by now that I’ll do whatever it is thatcha need.” And then he was pushing your underwear down one-handed and his middle finger was dipping into your entrance, your body clenching around the intrusion before it began to pulse and pull him deeper. “Fuck.” Daryl dropped his forehead to the back of your head with a groan. You were nearly dripping but this time, the burning ache for his touch wasn’t going away.

“Please.” You said again, rolling your hips, letting out a squeak when your clit pressed into the heel of his hand. “I swear it won’t take long. I just—dear god, I need you.” 

“I gotcha.” He whispered into your hair, pumping the digit in and out of your greedy cunt a mere three times before stretching you further with his index finger. The wet sounds accompanying his ministrations were absolutely filthy. “Christ, Y/N.” He was growing hard against your ass, the press of him against you nearly toppling you over the edge then and there.

“No.”

Another sigh from behind you and he was withdrawing with a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “Better get back. They’re probably already—” The look on his face would have been hilarious if you weren't vibrating with a carnal need for him. It took all of three seconds for you to work open his pants and pull him free. There was a delectable hiss that you wanted to snatch with your teeth and bite into as if it were a living thing. Daryl’s hand shot out to brace himself against the tree as you fervently stroked him. 

“This. I need this.” You were absolutely going to implode if he didn’t touch you soon. Time was limited. Rick would bring Glenn and T-Dog to search for the pair of you if you took too long. It was time to see if Daryl was even capable of a quickie. He’d always somehow managed to fuck you for what felt like hours. You spun and placed your hands against the tree trunk, jutting out your ass, your hip bumping into the head of his cock. The moment his hand squeezed just one hip, you knew you’d need to hold on tight.

One thrust and he was bottomed out, the stretch of it painful and exquisite. Just what you needed. He wasted no time, pounding into you like his life depended on it. He was likely wound just as tight as you were. You had never been intentionally teasing him, just reacting to the will of your indecisive, hormonal body.

Thank god that same body was craving what he was giving you. 

His left hand slid around to support your belly, ever considerate of your comfort despite the frenzied state of his mind in that moment. Your clit was throbbing, begging for pressure and friction that you granted yourself for once as he skillfully plunged in and out of you, the head of him tapping that soft spot inside you that had you rising onto your tiptoes and bending as far as you could manage to open yourself up for him.

Daryl growled, an almost feral sound from deep within his chest, his thrusts growing sloppy. He was close but you were closer, already seeing stars with each stroke of your fingers. You continued to get lost in the way he was making you feel, forgetting to keep your own rhythm going. Fuck. He was going to throw you off the precipice without the need for your aid. “Right there! Oh god, Daryl—I’m gonna—”

“Ssh!” He released your hip in favor of bowing over your back to cover your mouth. He knew you too well. When his teeth bit down just to the right of your spine to muffle his own exclamations, you fell apart. Your walls clamped down on him, pulsing and squeezing until he shouted against your flesh, his hips stuttering against your ass. There was a rush of warmth inside you, welcomed and satisfying. After the spasms slowed in their intensity, Daryl gently, lazily thrust into you a few more times to ensure you rode every single wave. He didn’t slip out of you until you slouched with a contented sigh.

“God, I needed that.” You hummed as he pulled up your panties and leggings, adjusting them to be comfortable before doing the same with your sweats. “Thank you.” You whispered breathlessly, turning to face him as he tucked himself away.

“Ain’t never gotta thank me for somethin’ that’s yours, crazy girl.” The archer froze in the middle of securing his belt, staring at the ground somewhere between your boots and his. You found yourself unable to move as well, just blinking at him, wondering if that meant what you thought it did. His head was down but you could see him glancing back and forth between you and the dirt. When his hands released the leather, his right one circling your wrist, you held your breath. “Y/N —I, uh—”

“Hey!”

Glenn was one of the sweetest men you’d ever known but at that moment, you had never wanted to murder someone more in your entire life.

“You guys okay?”

Daryl grunted and let you go. “C’mon. I guess, they’re sick’a waitin’.”

You sighed but the words, the expression, the moment kept replaying as you followed him. Was he about to tell you that he loved you? It was such a strange feeling to somehow know that he did but feeling like that was made null by his unwillingness to express it. None of this was easy for him. I love you was something he had likely never heard in a way he could believe, from anyone who hadn’t at some point caused him pain. You’d wait. You’d wait forever if you had to.

They always said actions speak louder than words and his actions were absolutely roaring. You just wanted to hear it. Just once. Just wanted to be able to pluck the words from the air and lock them away in your heart to call back when you needed them during the times he couldn’t say it. 

You were nearly back to the truck when it hit you and you stopped with a heavy sigh that had your partner twisting at the waist to glance back at you. “Ya alright?”

With a wincing smile, you begrudgingly admitted: “I really do have to pee now.”

[sharedramblings]

Let Me

Summary: You took care of one exhausted Larissa Weems.

—-—-

Larissa heavily slumped on the vanity chair after slipping in her night gown, her plaid dress and trench coat haphazardly strewn across the floor.

To say that she's utterly exhausted doesn't seem to give enough justice to how she's feeling. Her body is begging and screaming for sleep, for her to lie down and let her muscles finally relax, but she's yet to take care of her hair and make-up, leaving her frozen in place.

Her eyelids are heavy, and she's fighting a losing battle. Even the thought of freeing herself of the pins and cosmetics feels arduous in her state, much so actually doing it because lifting her limbs proves to be quite the impossible task.

Drowsy and weary, Larissa entertained the thought of sleeping without removing it all. Just this once, she reasons to herself. Or maybe she'll use her ability— rid herself of the make-up by shapeshifting. Something she had done only a handful of times, when the situation calls for it, much like this one.

The woman couldn't care less about her surroundings, going in and out of consciousness at this point so she hasn't really noticed that five minutes ago, you entered the room, wheeled her suitcase in the corner, and placed her discarded clothes in the laundry basket. You've watched her for a while, and Larissa hasn't moved even one bit in the chair.

You walk the five steps needed to get to her, gently tapping her shoulder repeatedly while you whisper to her softly, "Rissa, what are you still doing here? Go to bed, baby"

Larissa only managed to open her eyes a little, scanning her environment for a bit to get her bearings. Her voice came out hoarse in response, "Need to get make-up off"

That was her best attempt, and you can see her struggling to stay awake. You mumbled an okay in return, placing a kiss on her forehead before guiding her head to your chest, your lover pliant in your hands. You slowly locate the hairpins holding her hair in place, carefully taking them off and putting them on top of the vanity.

This was the first time in the duration of your relationship that Larissa could not complete nor start her night routine. The woman doesn't really tire easily, so you can only imagine how taxing the conference was.

When you're certain that you've got all the pins out, you did your best to brush her hair tenderly. You focus on her jewelry next, unclasping each piece and placing them on the table. Once that's done too, you massaged her scalp as a means to rouse her gently one more time. "Let's get you to bed, baby"

She let out a low moan of protest, still out of it while very much still remembering why she's seated and not in bed.

"I know, love. I'll take care of it, hm? Just lay in bed please."

Larissa didn't need any more convincing after that, letting you lead her towards the bed. You helped her lay down, lifting her legs and gently placing them on top of the mattress, squeezing once before letting go. You then maneuver her head in the pillows, making sure her face doesn't touch the cushion yet, tucking her hair neatly behind her ear.

Knowing that Larissa could move out of position anytime, you gathered the products you needed swiftly, setting them down in the nightstand before you took your seat beside her.

You wet a cotton pad with her make-up remover and started wiping her forehead, most of her foundation sticking to the pad. Delicately, your hand moves around her face, doing your best not to irritate her skin, particularly around her eye area.

The woman places great importance on her appearance, which includes keeping herself clean. You have no idea how she was planning to do just that when you saw her sitting in her vanity, because even in the ride home, she barely has any energy left.

Maybe she was planning to use her ability. Something she doesn't make a habit of when it comes to cleaning herself. You can remember how Larissa told you that despite feeling no trace of dirt or grime, it still bothered her to a point, leaving her unsatisfied and still itching to wash. Kind of a mind thing that she can't shake off.

After a bit of inspection, you went in with some wipes to remove any makeup residue that lingered before moving on with her cleanser. Gently, you go, admiring the few freckles that littered her cheeks and nose and the texture of her face, your eyes tracing her now bare eyebrows and naturally pink lips. Ever the pretty woman, you thought, even when she's exhausted.

Your fingers move lightly across her face as you finish with her toner and eye cream, caressing her cheeks in your palm. "Almost done, baby." You softly muttered in the air, letting Larissa know because she turned her head to the side once, probably to get more comfortable, and let out a short displeased sound when you prevented her from doing so.

Larissa is asleep, chest rising and falling in an even interval, but somehow, a teeny tiny part of her in the haze could still faintly pick up when you talk to her, and she briefly hummed to acknowledge what you said.

You proceeded with her chapstick, pulling her chin down slightly so her lips would open a bit, applying just the right amount as her breathe fans out on your hand. The strain in your neck and shoulders from your slouched position is starting to become unbearable, so you decide to quickly wrap it up with her moisturizer.

The feeling of your lips on her hairline pulled her from her sleep to a small degree, just enough to recognize the action and recall what's happening.

"All done?" She murmured weakly, her voice coming out husky.

"All done." You confirmed, and with great effort, the smallest appreciative closed-lip smile she could muster formed in her pink lips, and her sleep-ridden blue eyes, only a fraction open, looked at you lovingly.

"Thank you"

As you caress her jaw affectionately after fixing her blanket on top of her just the way she prefers— with one of her legs sticking out of the sheets— Larissa's last thought before getting truly knocked out was to thank you properly for being the best girlfriend and for taking care of her once morning comes.

[yandere-sins]

Hiii, Could you write Satan kidnapping MC because they're his favorite writer? I had this idea recently and it looked promising. Maybe MC is so talented that people compare their books and Simeon's books.

Thanks for your request! It’s very fitting for Satan :3

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

"How's it coming along?"

Satan's voice tore you out of your daydream—a nice one, of a world far, far away—and you twisted around to see him come through the door, setting down his bag before returning your gaze and smiling. You didn't hear him come in, nor noticed how fast the time passed since he left, but immediately you felt uneasy again. "Not so good," you muttered, turning back to you laptop and biting your lip, now overly aware of his footsteps creaking over the floorboards.

"Let me see," he asked. Leaning over your shoulder, Satan gently nudged your hand off the mouse to scroll up your manuscript to read what you had added over the span of the last few hours. There were fewer new pages than he expected as he scrolled too far the first time, and you only slumped more on your chair, too afraid to admit your failure.

"Hm... I'm not sure. It's just lacking the certain something, you know what I mean?" he finally commented as he reached the blank half of the last page you wrote before sighing, shaking his head. "Didn't you say you wanted me out of the room for peace and quiet? I thought that would help you."

Fiddling with your thumb, you kept silent for a while as his body continued to weigh down on you. It was his impatient threat to say something, to make him understand your views. But how could you? In his eyes, you may very well not have been human, but you two would never see eye to eye regardless of how he viewed you. "I tried..." you eventually muttered, looking down and hanging your shoulders.

"I don't really feel motivated... A-And I'm hungry! I can't work like this! It's blocking my inspiration to be in this room, I haven't been outside in a week!"

Pushing back your chair, Satan moved out of the way just in time to dodge it ramming into him. A part of you felt bad for almost hurting him, but it was the part that hadn't understood yet what kind of situation you two were in.

He was the demon that lured you into a trap by promising to be your patron, and you were the dumb human who didn't think twice before agreeing. Nowhere on the contract did it say you'd have to spend your time in his home, in front of his scrutinizing eyes, but you had been naive and gullible, all too happy to sign without reading the fine print.

Stumbling back, you felt the adrenaline rush as you opposed him for the first time since he had brought you here. It was your fault, you knew that. You had enough sleepless nights to reflect on your mistakes. But Satan could not make you his puppet, no matter how much he wanted you to. It's not how the creative writing process worked! With so many restrictions he put on you, it was impossible to create anything—no matter how much he loved your creations.

As you watched his hand rise into the air, you heard a tsk escape from his lips, and you looked away, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing for impact. You've seen his anger, witnessed his rage. It had never been directed at you, but with your mind running wild all day—just not with ideas for your new book—you were sure it was time for him to lash out at you.

Instead, you felt the gentle warmth that his palm emitted as he cupped your cheek, and your eyes blinked open in confused astonishment. "I'm sorry," he said, his expression full of concern and shame. For a moment, you almost forgot he wasn't human; his reaction felt so validating and real. As if he truly recognized how he wronged you.

"You said you wanted some alone time and I thought it would be best to give you what you wanted. But you are right. I should have taken your needs into consideration."

Satan spoke these words so earnestly, not a hint of a lie in his voice. It felt surreal to hear these words, knowing he had kidnapped you in the first place. "No, I'm sorry, I..." you started before catching yourself. Why were you apologizing? Wasn't it his fault you flew off the handle? It had been Satan who had tricked you, so why were you feeling bad all of a sudden?

"No, you are right. I can't keep you cooped up here all day, even though I long to see your new story. It was selfish of me when we were supposed to be partners in this, so forgive me."

Dropping his hand from the gentle caressed to your face, Satan held it out to you. You couldn't help but be hesitant and unsure. What did he want? Would he hurt you if you accepted the invitation?

"Please let me make it up to you," he explained, sincerity in his eyes as he stood there, waiting for you to agree. It all felt so unreal, but the paranoia made you unsure how to act. You had already imagined all kinds of scenarios, from the horror ones to some that made you blush. Being a writer, your anxiety didn't give you a clear sign of what to do, and after being stuck in an unfamiliar, dark place for more than a week, barely surviving on the food and water you had been given, and even less on the few hours of sleep every day, it was a surprise you could even come up with more scenarios in your head.

"You're not mad?" you asked hesitantly, eyeing his hand with suspicion. You already knew the palm would be warm, his long fingers perfect for wrapping around your hand, and his touch soft and gentle. After being deprived of social interactions, it was a tempting offer.

Satan shook his head, sadness rushing to his features again. "No, I'm worried and ashamed I let it come so far. I will make it up to you. I'll show you the beauty of this world and take you to experience unforgettable things. I didn't ask to be your patron so you'd live out the rest of your life like a caged animal. I want to support you, even if I have failed until now. Will you give me the chance to right my wrongs?"

Even though you felt nervous about making this decision, Satan had said all the right things. Everything you had wanted to hear from him, assuring you that you had also been heard by him. When he first approached you for this partnership, you had been unsure as well; deal with the devil and all. But he had seemed so sincere back then, too. So convinced in your skills and talents, sweeping you right off your feet. The same was happening now, although if he meant what he said, then his intentions were still pure.

Slowly, you placed your hand into his, choosing to trust him once more. After all, he had approached you for this deal. Surely if it was this important to him, he'd not mess it up again, right? Satan beamed when you gave him your answer, nodding once in confirmation as his hand wrapped around yours.

"Let's go then!" he announced, and before you could ask where to, he had pulled you after him, opening the door and bathing you in the warm, beautiful sun, leaving the darkness behind.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

"You good?" Satan asked, patting down the blanket around your shoulders. You nodded, swallowing down some of the soothing tea in your hands before smiling.

"I think I can do it now!"

A gentle smile played around his lips as he chuckled, excited after hearing your enthusiastic reply. "Then I'll be over there, reading. Call out if you need anything."

It had been the right choice to trust him. All this time, you had been fearful and wary when, actually, he was a good guy. People would think you'd gone mad, hearing you talk like this about a demon this way, but they didn't know Satan. Some demons truly were good people, perhaps better than most humans you knew.

After that little argument in the afternoon, he had done his best to give you back the freedom you craved. He took you to a nice beach town, where you two played in the sand next to the ocean, took a long walk and talked, and ate delicious food from many different vendors. Had you two not been in a professional relationship, one could have almost called it a date.

But that wasn't important. Important was that when he asked if you wanted to continue this partnership, you agreed. On the condition this time that he wouldn't restrict you as much again and listen to you, to which Satan willingly shook hands. You went back with him to his domain with fewer worries, less stress, and actually feeling inspired to sit down and write. And once you cozied up with a blanket and some tea, you were happy to fulfill your side of the contract—at least until you were too sleepy to continue.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw Satan lounging in his armchair, his own steaming cup of tea on a side table as he read his book. He noticed your gaze, meeting it with a smile and a slight wave and you returned the gesture before looking onto the empty page of your manuscript again, getting ready to throw yourself into the story. You could do it! You knew that now. You had all the support that you needed, and Satan had become more of a friend than the captor you had originally thought him to be!

All you ever wanted was to write, and now, it was your time to shine.

All thanks to Satan's help.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Humans were easily frazzled, weren't they?

Vulnerable, fearful creatures. And yet, he couldn't help but fall for you the moment he read the first sentence of your book. Satan remembered that he thought, "Wow, they get it," as he dove into a story filled with passion for the obscure, something that couldn't have been from a mind as fragile as a human.

But it was, and so he found you.

And you were everything he wanted you to be.

So for a moment, he panicked when he saw you distraught. For a moment, he could feel the feeble connection of your pact waver, threatening to tear as the contract he made the first time had been rushed and haphazardly. He knew better now than to be careless around you. You, who had the power to make and break him, turn him into an obedient puppy to your whims, even though he was the scariest dog your world had ever seen. If he wanted to keep you, he had to rethink his plan, better it, and put a leash so tight on you that you'd be unable to escape his grip.

Inevitably, he fixed the problems easily, building trust that you should have never allowed to form between you two. Satan relished in the sight of your turned back, your fingers tapping away merrily on the keyboard of the laptop he got for you. Don't get him wrong, he adored your works, loved the obscure, wild ideas that you put into words so lovely that they touched his ruthless soul.

But it was you he wanted. You he loved.

That's why he decided to be patient. Even with the itch in his fingers to pin you to the ground, the burning on his lips to capture yours so frevently you'd forget yourself. The inescapable pull you had on his whole body as if you were the demon binding his soul to yours, and that annoying part of his mind that wanted nothing more than to rip it out so you may have it.

Satan couldn't let you know all these things he wanted to do with you, the way he'd have you captured in his arms until you stopped thrashing. It wasn't enough for Satan to have captured you, he wanted more. He wanted to still his anger with the softness of your body in his hold, soothe the rage inside him with the sound of your voice. Know that every word you'd write, you'd do for him. It made him anything but angry—greedy, gluttonous, prideful. He could act like the main character in your book all you needed, but it wouldn't change the fact he was the villain at the end of your story.

But he had already captured your body, soothed your distrust, and soon, he'd have that new creation you'd only write for him and him alone. Thus was the new contract he made you sign. A contract you accepted much too easily after he showed you the illusion of freedom you were craving. As if there had ever been a choice for you.

You were a simple soul, even if your mind was brilliant. He could read you like a book, the way your body shuddered against his touch as you dreamed of him—dreams he planted in your head for you to nourish with your ideas. And Satan could play this game for a long, long time, dragging it out until you'd accept his love willingly, seek it out like he had sought after you. Even if it would take forever, he'd practice the illusion of patience.

All so he could have you for all eternity.

[hazza043]

"Hey, do you know that blueberries aren't actually blue?" "For fuck's sake, y/n, can't you be normal for once? Get away from me, go!" Daryl yells at you. You run, feeling a sting from Daryl's harsh words. You didn't mean to annoy him, but it seems like you always do. You trip and fall, skinning your knee on a rock. "Shit," you mutter, standing up and limping back to the community, feeling numb.

As you walk back to the community, you can't help but feel a sense of rejection. You slowly limp to the infirmary. "What happened?" Denise asked. You shrugged. "Nothing."

Denise raises an eyebrow, concerned. "Don't give me that, y/n. I can see you're limping and your knee is bleeding. What did Daryl do this time?" You sigh, feeling a mix of emotions. "He just... yelled at me, okay? Told me to get away from him."

Denise's expression softens. "Ah, sweetie, I'm so sorry. Daryl can be a bit of a handful sometimes." You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just don't get it, Denise. One minute he's nice to me, the next he's biting my head off. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells around him."

Denise puts a gentle hand on your arm. "Maybe he's just struggling with his own demons, y/n. Maybe he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings." You look at her, curious. "Feelings? What do you mean?"

Denise hesitates, choosing her words carefully. "I think Daryl might have a crush on you, y/n. But he's not very good at showing it." You feel a surprise, a mix of emotions. "A crush? On me? But he's always so gruff and mean!"

Denise smiles. "That's just a front, sweetie. Deep down, Daryl's a softie. But he's been hurt before, and he doesn't know how to open up." You process this information, trying to make sense of Daryl's behavior. A crush? On you? It seems impossible, but at the same time, it makes sense.

Just then, the door to the infirmary bursts open, and Daryl himself walks in. His eyes scan the room, and when they land on you, they narrow. "What are you talking about?" he growls, his voice low.

You avoid eye contact, looking down at your knee as Denise begins to clean and bandage it. Daryl's gaze lingers on you for a moment, then he turns to Denise. "What's going on here?" he asks gruffly.

Denise looks up at him, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Just patching up y/n's knee, Daryl. No need to worry." Daryl's eyes narrow slightly, but he says nothing. He turns and leaves the infirmary, leaving you feeling a mix of emotions.

As Denise finishes up with your knee, she leans in close. "Remember, y/n, Daryl's a complex person. He's got a lot of baggage, but he's also got a heart of gold. Just be patient with him, okay?"

You decide to take some time to process everything, think about your next move. You thank Denise and leave the infirmary, walking back to your quarters in a daze.

As you lie in bed, you can't stop thinking about Daryl and what Denise said. A crush? On you? It seems impossible, but at the same time, it makes sense.

You think about all the times Daryl has yelled at you, but also all the times he's saved you, protected you. You think about his rough exterior and his soft interior. You realize that you have feelings for Daryl too. But how can you get past his gruff exterior and reach the heart of gold that Denise talked about?

As you drift off to sleep, you make a decision. You're going to try to get to know Daryl better, to understand him and his feelings. The next day, you see Daryl in the courtyard, practicing his archery skills. You decide to approach him, to try to start a conversation.

"Hey, Daryl, can I talk to you for a minute?" you ask, feeling a sense of nervousness. Daryl looks up from his archery practice, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What is it?" he asks gruffly.

You take a deep breath and apologize. "I'm sorry if I did something to annoy you yesterday. I know I can be a bit much sometimes." Daryl's expression softens slightly, and he lowers his bow. "It's not you, y/n. I'm just... dealing with some stuff."

You nod, feeling a sense of understanding. "I get it. I've got my own stuff too." Daryl looks at you, his eyes searching for something. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice a little softer.

You nod again. "Yeah. But maybe we can help each other out. You know, talk through our stuff." Daryl's face softens even more, and he nods. "Okay, y/n. Let's talk."

You sit down with Daryl, and for the first time, you really talk. You share your fears, your hopes, your dreams. And Daryl listens, his eyes locked on yours.

As you talk, you realize that there's more to Daryl than meets the eye. There's a deep pain, a deep hurt. But there's also a deep love, a deep loyalty.

You reach out and touch Daryl's hand, trying to offer comfort. He looks at you, surprised, but doesn't pull away. Instead, he turns his hand over, and you find yourself holding it, feeling a spark of electricity.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl," you say, looking into his eyes. "I had no idea you were carrying so much pain." Daryl's eyes well up, and for a moment, you think he might cry. But then, he takes a deep breath and nods.

"It's okay, y/n. Just knowing someone cares... means a lot." You squeeze his hand, feeling a sense of connection. "I care, Daryl. I really do."

Daryl looks at you, his eyes searching for something. Then, he leans in, his face inches from yours. You can feel his breath on your skin, and your heart starts to race.

You kiss him, trying to comfort him. Daryl's lips are soft and warm, and he kisses you back with a gentleness that surprises you. The world around you melts away, and all that's left is the two of you, lost in the moment.

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Brand New One Shot - First Preview

It’s time for a new one shot! I promise I will finish “Dress Up” in the very near future but I wanted to get a jumpstart on this! No active warnings for this preview, but there is a very very subtle hint to something naughty if you squint lol

You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, he was kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!

Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?

When you had first spoken to him all those month ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meet, and ever since then it was nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.

You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”

You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.

A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. It was late, way later than you should be awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most night, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Laying awake in your bed wasn’t helping these thoughts, but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.

You glanced over to the fire place, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fire place, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.

“What the hell am I going to do…”

Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”

Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.

“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”

You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.

“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”

“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”

Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”

The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.

“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly, but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”

“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.

You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.