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munsonsmixtapes · 7 months ago

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Under Your Spell

vampire!eddie x werewolf!steve x witch!fem!reader

summary: you’re making a potion for your shop and it turns out you need a lock of hair from a werewolf and a drop of blood from a vampire. Lucky for you, your boyfriends happen to be just that, but they’re not going to give in so easily.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) knotting, blood drinking, oral (f and m receiving) voyeurism, unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it) anal, dom!eddie

This is in collaboration with the always lovely @lillypad910 who actually came up with idea!

You locked the door as soon as the last customer left your shop, pulling on the door to make sure it was truly locked before heading to the back room where your potion was waiting for you. A love potion that you were planning on selling to get more customers through the door. At the rate you were going, you’d have to sell the place and you didn��t like the idea of someone else owning the shop you lived above.

You closed and locked the door tthat was at the back of the shop just in case a certain someone came snooping around for your spell books even though they were no use to him. Really, he just liked to bother you, loving to see how you worked.

You also just wanted the privacy, always getting distracted when your boyfriends were around. It didn’t matter whether they were trying to help or to get you out of your work space, it was hard to get anything done. You had given in too many times and now you needed to focus.

You grabbed the correct spell book from your bookcase then headed over to the table where your cauldron was sitting, using your magic to turn on the heat before flipping through the pages to find what you needed. Once you got to the page, you read over the ingredients list before grabbing them from the cabinet where they were all kept.

You slowly added everything into the cauldron and mixed it to together, noticing that it wasn’t turning to the correct color, wondering what you were missing.

You turned back to the book and ran over the recipe one more time, seeing that you didn’t have a hair from a werewolf nor a drop of blood from a vampire. That had to be it. Lucky for you, you knew exactly where to get both of those.

You exited your lair and hurried up the set of stairs that were across from it that lead up to the apartment that you shared with your boyfriends. As soon as you got up there, though, you saw that they were cuddled up on the couch, watching your favorite movie without you.

You slowly crept up to the back of the couch and crouched down, only popping up with a loud “boo” coming from your mouth when there was a jump scare on the screen.

Both of the men screamed in response, but let out sighs of relief as they realized it was only you, letting go of each other to fully turn to face you.

“Hey, honey,” Steve greeted, a large grin breaking out on his face.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie smiled, his hand reaching up to cup your face. “I think I deserve some sugar for that scare.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned down, pressing your lips to his only to hear your other boyfriend whining for a kiss of his own. You turned to Steve and gave him exactly what he wanted. He smiled against your lips and you pulled away before he was ready, hearing another whine fall from his lips.

“So, are you done for the night?” Eddie asked, the two of you ignoring Steve. You didn’t know why you were nervous to ask them. It was just a favor and being your boyfriends, you would have assumed that they would jump at the chance to help you out, especially with something that had to do with your business.

“Well,” you drew out the word as you took one of each of their hands and swayed them back and forth in the air. “I have a potion that I need to finish and it seems I’m missing two ingredients.”

“What ingredients are you missing, sweet pea?” Steve asked, bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to it.

You took a deep breath before answering, suddenly feeling nervous about the whole thing. “I need a hair from a werewolf,” you reached up and stroked Steve’s hair, giving his scalp a little scratch and he leaned into your touch, soaking it up. “And a drop of blood from a vampire,” you turned to Eddie, your hand still in Steve’s hair. You brought your other hand up to rest on Eddie’s cheek, your thumb swiping across his lip the way you knew he liked.

Steve was immediately on board, nodding furiously. He was always going above and beyond to please you, wanting to do whatever you asked just to see that beautiful smile of yours. Eddie, though, always took more convincing. He wanted you to beg, to plead, needing much more convincing than his boyfriend did.

“Of course, what-“ Steve started to say, but Eddie put his hand up to stop him.

“Not so fast,” Eddie shook his head. “We’d like something in return.” His eyes were darkening as he stared at you and you knew exactly what he was wanting, but you thought you wanted to hear him say it. To ask, to beg, like he was always making you do. After all, you could go to just any vampire and werewolf to get what you needed.

“And what’s that?” You asked, your thumb sliding between his lips. You were playing dumb and hoping, praying he’d take the bait.

“I think you know what,” he replied, removing your hand from his face, fighting the urge to put your whole thumb into his mouth and suck on it until he couldn’t possibly anymore.

“Tell me anyway,” you demanded, your tone getting even more flirty as your hand traveled down to his hair, picking up a curl and twirling it around your pointer finger.

“You have to fuck us in return.” His voice was hoarse, demanding, and you swore you felt yourself getting wet just by hearing it. You loved being told what to do, craved it, even. You always let the boys take over in the bedroom, wanting them to tell you exactly what they wanted.

Without a word, you rounded the couch and placed yourself between the two them, a hand resting on either of their thighs. You turned to Steve, watching his eyes widen as your hand moved higher and higher, sliding up his thigh until it reached his cock that you could feel was already hardening. That had to be a record.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” You asked, batting your eyelashes. “Will that be an okay exchange?” Steve’s mouth fell open as he nodded furiously.

“Please,” he whined and that was all you needed to undo his belt, quickly unzipping his pants. Together, you removed them along with his underwear, his cock springing free as you did so. They dropped to his ankles and you spread his legs, spitting into your hand before giving it a few slow pumps, watching him come undone under your touch. His eyes flutter shut and his head tilted back against the couch, his hands finding purchase on the cushions, grasping onto them for dear life as moans tumble out of his mouth.

Your hand continued to move back and forth, back and forth, the motion picking up, getting even faster and you looked up at him as another loud moan fell from his lips. And just when you were getting into a rhythm, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling your own hand away from Steve’s cock. You turned your attention to your other boyfriend who was standing over you with a devilish grin. With his other hand, he reached up and rested it on the back of your head, pushing your face down towards Steve’s cock.

“Open up, my little gem. Gotta finish him off.” You did as Eddie commanded and opened wide, taking Steve into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the head as your hand wrapped around the base, a gasp falling from his lips as you began to suck hard, Eddie pushing your head down even farther as you did so. “Come on, gotta take all of him. Can’t you see he’s about to come?”

He was pushing you down with even more force, causing Steve’s cock to move further into your mouth, your nose brushing the patch of hair above it as you tried your best not to gag, tears pricking your eyes. You continued to suck on him as best you could, opening your eyes to looked at him as he was about to reach his orgasm.

“Fuck,” Steve moaned loudly as his eyes shut tight, his head fully hitting the back of the couch as his hands white knuckled the couch cushions. “So good, honey.”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “Just like that.” He could feel himself getting bricked up just by watching, not even needing you to do the same to him. He was always content with just seeing it all happening.

But just as Steve was about to come, Eddie’s hands wound into your hair, giving it a yank as he pulled you away from Steve’s cock, pulling you to your feet. “That’s enough,” he commanded, deciding that he wanted to have in on some of the fun. He then grabbed onto your face with his free hand, turning your face to watch Steve.

“Look at him. Look at how fucked out he already is.” His lips were right by your ear as he turned your back to him, pressing himself against it and you could his rock hard cock against your lower back. And you moved ever so slightly, feeling it twitch against you.

“Fuck,” Steve moaned so loudly and you and Eddie watched the cum leak out of his cock as an orgasm ripped through him, his head moving so far back that you couldn’t even see his face as he writhed right there on the sofa.

“Look at that,” Eddie said into your ear. “That was all you, baby. Now, let me have my fun.” His hand that was holding your face moved down, slowly inching towards your stomach. It made its way up your dress so slowly as he got it into your panties as he was on the hunt, finally finding what he was looking for as he shoved his fingers inside you. You let out a loud moan and Eddie hummed at that, burying his face into your neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, wanting you to beg for him just like always.

“Eddie, please,” you whined and he just chuckled against your skin.

“Gotta beg me some more, my little gem, c’mon,” he pressed a soft kiss to your skin.

“Yeah, c’mon,” Steve rasped. “Gotta sing for your supper, hon.” Eddie’s fingers pulled out then began to move back and forth across your slit, teasing you, making you want to beg for him so badly, needing to feel his fingers, his rings inside of you, the cold metal and the rough texture rubbing against you as he slid his fingers in and out of your cunt.

“Beg me, I can see how desperate you are for it.” And he could, seeing that your eyes were glazing over, feeling how wet you were already. You were already soaked and he had barely done anything yet. By the time he was done with you, there would be slick running down your legs and he’d let Steve lick it up as a treat for being such a good boy.

“Eddie, please,” your whine was so desperate, so pleading, probably some of your best work and Eddie had no choice but to oblige for his favorite girl.

“Alright,” he sighed, his fingers entering you once again, this time it was all the way to where his fingers sat, the cool metal feeling so good against you. So good that you-

“Oh,” you moaned, sounding like you had gotten your release.

“Already so wet for me, baby,” he kissed your neck again. “That’s gotta be a record, hm?” He asked as his fingers pumped in and out, in and out so quickly watching you completely undone in front of him, watching your knees buckle underneath you. You always were easy, weren’t you? Just a few pumps and you were mewling, moaning so loudly that he was convinced that the other people in the buildings along the strip could hear you. Good. That was exactly what he wanted anyway. This was a favor that you had been doing in exchange for what you needed for your potion after all.

You were crumbling, your knees finally giving out underneath you and Eddie wrapped his free arm around your middle, keeping you from collapsing before removing his fingers from you. He brought them up to his lips while looking Steve directly in the eyes, sucking on them while moaning dramatically as he did so. He loved to tease his boyfriend, loved to make him jealous just so he’d ask for what he wanted since he was too much of people pleaser to voice his wants.

Steve was drooling now, wanting to get a taste of what Eddie had gotten, but all of it, your whole cunt on display for him. And Eddie knew that. That was all Steve ever wanted when the three of you did anything. As long as he had some sort of taste of you, he didn’t care what happened between you and Eddie. As long as he got to eat you out or at the very least suck Eddie off, he was perfectly content.

“Your turn,” Eddie told Steve, lifting you up to that you were straddling the man, Steve supporting your legs as you leaned against Eddie. Seeing the fishnets you were wearing and the lacy underwear you were wearing was doing something to him.

You could see his claws coming out and you were more turned on by it than you would have like to admit. His wolf form was always so hot to you, especially when he only half shifted more hair appearing on his chest and his teeth coming out. And watching it happen right in front of you was enough to make you so horny that you didn’t even know what to do yourself.

Steve could see your slick dripping down your legs and he needed to lick it all up right then. Before you could beg for him, he reached up and ripped your fishnets, the spot right about your cunt and all the way down to your thigh on each leg, giving him plenty of room to ravage you.

You gasped as you watched him and didn’t mind at all that he had completely ruined your tights. In fact, you were just thinking about what else he could have ruined. You would have let him rip your dress to shreds if he wanted to. You were actually hoping that he would. You watched as his hand moved towards your cunt, sinking his claws into your underwear, ripping a whole just big enough for his mouth.

He had never done that before, never actually ripped your clothes even though he had talked about it. You didn’t know if it was the full moon or if he was just that horny, but whatever it was, it was fucking hot.

He then grabbed onto one of your legs, licking your slick from it in rough strokes, wanting to take his time before moving onto the other, his movements getting quicker to speed up the process.

He then buried his face into your cunt, his mouth wrapping around your clit, licking and sucking on it as hard as he could while Eddie took the opportunity to suck on your neck, a moan falling from your lips, deciding that both of your boyfriends were so talented with their mouths. The whole thing was overstimulating, but you wouldn’t dare ask either of them to stop because you were enjoying it far too much.

Steve had moved onto your slit, flicking his tongue back and forth slowly as Eddie sucked hard on your neck, the feeling so intoxicating. And it was better than he remembered. It was sweet just like you were and even though he knew he needed to stop, he just couldn’t. Not when those absolutely delicious moans were falling from your lips, making him even harder. If he didn’t fuck you soon, he was convinced he was going to explode. But he needed to let Steve have his way with you first.

You were fucked out already, feeling yourself going limp in Eddie’s arms, but there was no way you were giving up, not when you were so close. And not when Steve was doing his best work, eating you like you were his last meal, his teeth scraping along your cunt, making your thighs press against his head so hard that you were convinced that you were going to crush him. Not that he minded.

And you most certainly couldn’t give up when Eddie was giving you the best hickey of your life, his lips sucking on your neck like it was their job and they desperately needed to pay rent. And when his teeth gliding along your skin, you were convinced you were seeing stars, reaching an orgasm, Steve’s tongue pushing in and pulling out of your cunt in a rhythm , moving quickly just like he knew you liked it, hearing you crying already. that unleashed something on you.

“Oh my god,” was all you were able to say as you clenched around Steve’s tongue, thinking that he was really outdoing himself. And Eddie-god, it was like he was trying to make your legs become jello as he sunk his teeth into your neck, giving it an even more rough suck as pulled some blood from you.

“Taste so sweet,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Oh,” you moaned as your eyes fluttered shut, an orgasm coursing through you as you grabbed onto Steve’s hair, needing something to grip as you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, Eddie’s grip on you tightening as he tried his best to hold you up.

“Think she’s fucked out,” he said and Steve was quick to pull his face from you, grabbing hold of your legs and together, the two of them laid you on the floor.

The two men stared down at you, looking like you were a full course meal and they were starving. Steve was the first to kneel next to you, leaning down so that his lips were right by your ear.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He asked. “You don’t care about your dress, do you? Because I am going to rip it to shreds.” He pulled your earlobe between his teeth and hit down hard, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

“Please,” you whined, grabbing onto his shirt, balling it into your fists.

“Alright, calm down honey. I’m gonna get you ready for Eddie, alright?” He moved to where his face was just inches from yours and just when you thought he was going to kiss you, his lips moved to hover over your chest, baring his teeth as he did so.

You watched him bite down on the lacy fabric at the top of your dress, hearing the ripping sounds as he pulled at it harshly, his head moving back and forth in a quick motion like a dog with their favorite toy.

Eddie was quick to kneel on the other side of you, leaning over so that his face was right above your hip and once you saw him tearing up the fabric, you realized that he just didn’t want to miss out.

Together, the men continued to rip apart your dress with nothing but their teeth, pieces of your dress strewn across the living room, flying into the air as they torn the thing to shreds, almost nothing let of the dress it once was, pretty much your whole naked body on display. Your underwear was left for very last, Eddie letting Steve do the honors, the man moving his mouth to the waistband of your panties and pulled on it with his teeth until it tore down the side. He then leaned over and ripped up the other side before Eddie pulled them out from under you, holding them up to the light to see just how much had leaked onto him.

“Gonna have to keep these,” he said as he stuffed them into his back pocket with a devilish grin.

“And shit, do you look amazing tonight,” he added as his gaze shifted to you. Of course, he had seen your naked body more times than he could count, but he was always amazing at just how perfect it looked.

“Look at our little gem, Eddie,” Steve nodded at you, his eyes nothing but hungry, wanting to eat you whole. Good thing he had saved room for dessert.

“Oh, I’m looking,” Eddie nodded, his dark eyes turning almost black as he licked his lips slowly. “Such a pretty gem,” he said as he caressed your face, leaning down until his lips met yours and you were quick to respond, the kiss quickly getting messy and heated until he put it to a stop.

“Steve,” he turned to his boyfriend. “Grab the lube.” Steve was quick to rise to his feet and hurry to the bedroom to retrieve the bottle while Eddie stared down at you with nothing but lust in his eyes.

“All fours,” he commanded and you were quick to obey, knowing exactly what he was hinting at as it had happened so many times before.

You got on your hands and knees as you heard him unzip his pants as Steve hurried back into the living room tossing the bottle of lube to Eddie who was lathering it on his cock before he leaned over you. He then lined himself up with you and too no time to pound into you again and again as moans fell from your lips.

“That’s it,” Eddie cooed as his fingers dug into your waist. “Just like that, baby. You like it rough, don’t you?”

“Eddie, sh-shit,” you mewled and he knew that he had you exactly where he wanted you, eating up every single sound of pleasure that you were making. “So good.”

Steve kneeled in front of you, grabbing hold of your face so you’d look him in the eye. He held your gaze, feeling himself getting unbearably hard as he watched you moan as Eddie fucked you from behind.

“Doing so good, baby. And look at what a mess he’s made of you. Let it out.” Another moan passed through your lips and he nodded as you as he watched your every move. “Uh-huh, just like that hon. You’re taking him so well. Better save some of that energy, though, because I’m next.”

Eddie continued to pound into you again and again as Steve watched your reactions, wanting, needing to get inside of you, wanting his name to be the one you moaned, but he was going to have to settle for what he got until Eddie was done with you.

But he had to admit that he was eating it the fuck up, watching your mouth fall open as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The whole thing was practically making him have his own orgasm, feeling the need to get himself off just so he could get some action. But just as he was about to take care of himself, you reached your orgasm, Steve watching the entire thing go down, backing away as Eddie pulled out, his eyes still locked on your face as you moaned loudly, your eyes rolling back into your head once again. God, he needed to fuck you so bad. To be the reason you were orgasming.

And before he could stop himself, he pushed you down onto the carpet underneath you, not even waiting for you to come down from your orgasm before he was inside you, pounding into you as he pinned you to the carpet but holding onto your wrists with a rough grip. You could see his eyes darken and realized that he was letting the alpha part of him take over, his claws digging into your skin, but your hardly minded, more focused on the way he was fucking you, actually pushing all of himself this time.

You felt your eyes water as he did so, his massive cock sliding in and out of you on a loop as loud moans fell from your lips. And while he fucked you like his life depended on it, Eddie was right by your side, sucking the blood that Steve had drawn from your lips, drinking up every last delicious drop of the stuff. The whole thing was overstimulating like before, but fuck did it feel goodIf he couldn’t get inside you soon, he was going to have to. getting so much attention.

“Can’t go dumb on me just yet, princess,” Steve cooed, his human form doing all the talking. “I haven’t even come yet.” His movements were picking up, getting even faster as you clenched around him, seeing that he was the one to orgasm this time. You could feel Steve’s cock swelling inside you as his loud moans filled your ears, which wasn’t uncommon when he got inside you. It had happened pretty much every time and you had been expecting it, in fact, you had been looking forward to it, loving that he hadn’t used a condom so that you could actually feel him.

You could feel him stretching you out, feeling the knot rock inside of you. Tears pricked your eyes as he continued, his movements getting even more rapid, his fingers digging into your hips, looking completely fucked out himself. You felt as if you were going to be torn apart because of the sheer size of him and that seemed to make you feel even more wet as you thought about it.

His movements got even faster somehow, moving your entire body as moans tumbling out of both of your mouths as Eddie watched the whole thing, feeling nothing but lucky as he watched it all go down, feeling the need to make himself a part of it even though he wasn’t participating in the way he wanted to be.

“God, stuffed her up good, didn’t you, Stevie?” He teased as he moved to your side brining his hand up and letting his fingers run over the spot where you and Steve had been connected, the movements gentle enough to send a shiver down your spine.

But Steve just ignored Eddie, continuing to fuck into you, feeling another orgasm coming, the wolf side of him coming out to play as his claws dug into your hips even further so deep that it had caused a little blood to pool not that either of you you were paying attention.

“Stevie,” you moaned and he swore he was going to come right there. He always ate it the fuck up, especially when you used his nickname that he had actually despised before meeting you. “More.”

And just when he was about to come, Eddie grabbed onto Steve’s shoulders and pulled him back, forcing him to collapse to the floor, taking you with him as you fell on top of him.

Eddie the stood behind you, grabbing hold of your hips as he pushed you down onto Steve, moving your hips up and down, helping you ride him, wanting, needing to be a part of it in any way that he could.

And the two of you seemed to be into it as the most lovely sounds tumbled from your mouths. With Eddie’s help, you continued to ride Steve, the two of you watching him come absolutely undone, his head tilting back as his back arched. God, he was always so beautiful.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Eddie encouraged as he moved your hips just a little faster, watching Steve buck his hips against yours over and over as he continued to hold onto them. “Just like that. Jesus christ, I think he’s about to-“

And just like that, the two of you watched Steve come, fascinated by the way his wolf came out, his claws reaching up and scratching up and down your back, absolutely destroying it, not that you minded.

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie cooed to Steve as he came down from his orgasm and you felt the swelling go down, the knot progressively getting smaller inside of you. Once you didn’t feel it anymore, Eddie helped you climb on top of him, laying you down on the floor so you could catch your breath, just knowing that your legs felt like jello.

“I think you’ve more than paid for what you asked for,” Steve told you as he tried to catch his breath as he plucked a hair from his head, holding it out to you like a trophy as Eddie stabbed his pointer finger with one of fangs while you went to retrieve a vial to put the blood into. Once you were by his side, he let the blood drop into before you pointed at it with your hand, the wound healing right before his eyes.

“I love my boys,” you said as you pulled them into a group hug, your naked bodies pressing together as you did so.

“And we love you right back,” Eddie told you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead before the three of you headed so bed for some much needed rest.

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a-hermit-pining · 29 days ago

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LaDS in Hogwarts AU

AN: Hi anon, thank you for requesting. This was an awesome one to write. Some of these could be multi chaptered but alas I am a woman of few words and even meagre attention span.

Request: a request!! harry potter au :D love and deepspace and harry potter are my two favourites ^^ thank you!!!

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn reader

Ingredients: 100% Fluff (damn, this is rare)

My Fav: Sylus and Caleb...this is a trend (tell me which ones you like pls)

Xavier:

He is the legacy Slytherin. Pureblood prince of a faraway kingdom, the kind with a family vault older than the castle and buildings named after them.

He sleeps through class but still scores the highest. Doesn’t take notes, but his potions always come out textbook perfect, somehow even better than the textbook.

Even Snape, ever the grump, seems to favor him.

He was your enemy. At least, he was supposed to be.

The nepo baby. The one who walked into Hogwarts with an heirloom wand and a last name that made professors stand up straighter.

You, who ran away from home for magic, scraping together acceptance letters and scholarships, walking into the castle with nerves and nothing else. You, who earned your place.

You hated him. Hated how the system seemed built for boys like him. How Slytherin’s points climbed every time he so much as blinked. How he didn’t fight for the respect he got. He just had it.

And worst of all? He was nice.

Quietly. Gently. Infuriatingly nice.

He held doors open without thinking. Helped carry books for first-years. Always paired with the struggling students in class because, “Well, they need a win, don’t they?”

He never rubbed it in. Never gloated. Never treated you like you were less, which made it worse, somehow. Because you wanted to hate him. Needed to.

But then he looked at you, really looked at you, and smiled like you were someone worth smiling at.

And that… was the beginning of the end.

Rafayel:

You sighed when yet another chair was dragged next to yours at the Hogwarts staff table. At this rate, they might just push you off the end completely.

But alas, such is the fate of a muggle-subjects professor in a school where “Calculus” might as well be a curse word. You’re used to the disinterest, the disapproval. The dark arts will always win over derivatives.

You’re halfway through mentally drafting your resignation letter when the new professor takes his seat, by replacing his legs with an enormous siren tail and dramatically splashing half your legroom away.

"Hello," he says, smiling with too many teeth. "Rafayel. Art professor. Lovely to meet you."

You stare. Shake his webbed hand. Stammer your name.

And then it hits you.

Arts. No magic.

Another outsider. Well—not quite the same. But close enough.

To your complete dismay, Rafayel’s subject is met with none of the disdain yours is. Students flock to his class like he’s handing out enchanted paintbrushes dipped in prophecy. Somehow, he’s the cool muggle professor.

You want to be mad.

But he keeps bringing you snacks during staff meetings. And drawing you in charcoal between grading.

So maybe you forgive him. A little.

Zayne:

“Classroom windows need to be elevated above the two-foot mark,” the man drones, leading you through Hogwarts like he built it himself.

The Ministry has to be trolling you. There’s no other explanation for sending him again.

Zayne. The most regulation-obsessed official alive. The man who’s turned passive-aggression into an Olympic sport.

“Yes, of course, Zayne,” you smile with false sweetness. “Filch and I will get right on it.” (Translation: I will do it while Filch glares and mutters about unions.)

He ignores you. Of course he does. Groundskeepers aren’t worth Ministry time.

Then he stops, turns, and hands you a thick folder. “Every storage hinge in the castle needs to be updated to a new spell protocol. Instructions inside.”

You want to hurl it at his head.

Instead, you smile. “Got it.”

What you don’t know: Zayne spent weeks compiling that list. Researching every obscure policy he could dig up.

All just to have an excuse to come talk to you.

He even bribed Filch to stay out of the way.

So that later, when you’re elbow-deep in cursed cabinet screws, he can show up with dinner.

Professionally, of course.

He’s not an amateur.

Sylus:

The newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was… a piece of work.

Many a student, mostly girls, a few brave boys, and one very dramatic portrait on the third floor, called him a work of art.

You agreed.

Which was fair, considering you hired him.

Sylus. Your oldest friend. Keeper of far too many of your secrets. Former war general, occasional assassin, and man bound by an ancient oath not to die. Because of course he is.

Was it an HR nightmare? Absolutely.

Did it matter? Not even a little.

You’re the principal with the most peaceful term Hogwarts has seen in decades. No cursed classrooms. No dark lords. No goblin incidents in the West Tower.

They can’t afford to question your hiring decisions, not when it’s working. Even if “working” currently includes the students placing bets on whether the two of you are dating, dueling, or doomed.

There are whispers. Screams, really. Squeals in the hallways every time Sylus leans a little too close during staff meetings. Every time he calls you, by your name, letting go of the official address, with that knowing smile that turns half the seventh-years into puddles.

You pretend not to notice. You also pretend not to see the doodles left behind in your healing arts studies classroom, little hearts drawn in ink, a chemical formula twisted cleverly into your ship name.

"Ten points to Ravenclaw," you murmur with a smirk, holding up the notebook for him to see.

Caleb:

They called it the sweetest story in Diagon Alley.

The Quidditch coach who kept showing up at the same little pub after every match, “for the butterbeer,” he claimed.

(He absolutely couldn’t handle it. Turned red after two sips. Giggled after three. Once tried to do a victory dance and knocked over an entire broom display.)

And the innkeeper, you, who always kept a room open. “Just in case,” you said, as if he wasn’t the reason you looked out the window every Friday night.

Together, you became the unofficial mom and dad to every half-injured, half-homesick player who passed through. Post-win snacks. Pep talks before tryouts. Holiday dinners for those who didn’t go home.

You weren’t just a couple. Your relationship was a blessing.

So of course, when Caleb finally proposed, it had to be with the team. After a big win. Pub packed, cheers echoing off the enchanted ceiling.

He slipped the ring into your butterbeer. A cute idea, in theory.

But you’d just taken a deep sip when he got down on one knee.

Cue: choking, gasping, sputtering.

Half the league panicked. Someone shouted, “She’s dying!” And Caleb, red-faced and frantic, performed the Heimlich in front of two full tables of junior league athletes and at least one reporter.

The ring did come out. Eventually.

You said yes, coughing.

He cried anyway. Ugly, happy, overjoyed tears.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace headcannon #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #caleb x reader #love and deepspace reaction #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #fluff #gn reader #hogwarts au #harry potter au

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lovetei · 1 year ago

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Obey me demon brothers reacting to mc being hit with a "special" potion by someone and them having to deal with mc being extremely horny and dominant plus having their back absolutely blown? (Btw I love your writing🫶🏼)

It's like 1 in the morning and my phone is at 8 percent, the best time to write.

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MC was affected by this mysterious potion that makes them crave for some back-breaking fuck

Warnings: No proofreading, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, smut, no censoring, reader is Implied to be wearing strap or having cock (a big one), fingering them, wrong use of car hood, choking, air deprivation, wrong use of ties, ovestimulation

Parts: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

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LUCIFER

Are you being serious?

You mean to tell him that the reason why you came home looking like that

Why you came home and immediately went inside his room

Is because you were affected by this strange potion?

That makes you feel like you're in heat?

It doesn't matter, he needs to check up on you and see if it's harmful or not

Or to see if he can do anything to help you, at least.

"A-AUGH!" Moans and screams that sounds too whiny to be his escaped his mouth as your fingers moved wilder. "Wait a second!" He screamed the second time before you added another finger.

He was drooling like a dog on top of his desk as his cock spurt out strings of cum, staining the dark wood of his desk. "You better keep your back like this or I'll have to force it then." You ordered after you grabbed his shoulder and made him arch his back.

"G-Give me a break atleast..!" Is the last thing he screamed after he felt something hard against his used ass.

MAMMON

He was panicking

He knew that this ingredient had an aphrodisiac like effect on humans

But he didn't know it would be this much.

Plus he meant no harm!

He simply fed you this bread during your night out to make things a little exciting!

"Stop fucking moving." You cursed out as you slammed in his ass harder making him moan even more "I-I'm trying..!" He sobbed out as you bent him over the hood of his car, one of his legs raised on it while his dick continued to leak pre.

"P-Please don't be mad! O-One more! I promise I'll do better!" He begged like a whore as he pushed himself closer to you, trying to push your length deeper.

And the last thing he remembered is how he passed out and woke up again with his legs up your shoulder as you relentlessly pound into him.

LEVIATHAN

He kind of knew that it has strong aphrodisiac in it

It was said in the warning after all

But he's a high ranking demon so of course it has no effect on him

And he forgot that you're still human despite having that enormous amount of magic

"Shhh... Breath in." You chuckled at him as he shakily inhaled, sweat coating his forehead as you pushed your fingers inside of him once again "A-Agh~ I think I really can't do it anymore..!" Panic settled in when he felt himself on the edge with just your fingers.

His breathing got more ragged and panicked as you moved your fingers "Don't say that! I know you can take it..." You tried to cover your annoyed mood by sweetening your words.

"N-No... I-I think I'll die..!" His cock leaked pre but your patience is just starting to run thin "Levi how about we shut up?" You pushed your fingers down his throat "You made me like this so take responsibility." You threatened.

SATAN

He saw this unique spell in one of his books.

It applies aphrodisiac on foods without needing an actual potion

And so he though, why not try it on you?

You have gained a pretty amount of mana since time time you first came here

You can handle this much right?

Satan held on the bookshelf for his dear life as he bit on the tie harder to surpress his moans "You might break the shelf at this rate..." You panted out as you pushed yourself deeper inside of him.

A groan escaped his throat as tears does from his eyes "No mwore!" He managed to say through the gag as he caressed his ass, red from all the spanking he received earlier.

You just held his hands and slammed all the way in, his knees completely giving up and your hands holding his up is the only thing preventing him from falling "There, there... I'll start moving now..." You sweetly said, ignoring his please.

ASMODEUS

He didn't mean to!

You just looked so hot earlier that he forgot he had this ability!

Accidentally putting aphrodisiac on your food... How horrible!

Don't worry, he'll take responsibility!

Rhythmic moan is the only thing that can be hear inside the dimly lit room of Asmodeus, oh, the slapping sound of his ass whenever it hits your waist too.

"Augh!~ I-I'm getting a little tired honey~" He moaned as he continued to bounce himself on top of you as you lazily sat on his sofa "Maybe a little help..?" He guided your hands to his waist, implying that he wants you to move him yourself.

When you didn't react, he looked back at you over his shoulders and saw how you look completely out of it, dilated pupils and red cheeks "You know... If I started moving you yourself I might break your fragile little waist." You whined out as he felt you grip him harder.

BEELZEBUB

He's really sorry!

He forgot about this aphrodisiac and how it's harmful for humans...

What do you mean he can help cure the pain?

Sure, he'll help!

You played with Beelzebub's vibrant hair as his mouth worked wonders for you "Just like that~" You moaned as you looked down at him.

"Am I helping you relive the pain..?" He pulled away for a minute, a string of saliva and cum connecting his lips from your thighs "Yes, Beel. You're doing so good~" You leaned down to give him a little kiss

"I'm pretty sure this is hurting too~" You moved your feet closer to his clothed cock, visibly hard and straining against his pants "Then... Can MC help me relive it later too..?" He asked which made you smirk.

BELPHEGOR

It started off as a harmless prank

It was supposed to be a harmless prank

He didn't know it would reach this far

And he never thought that you'll let it reach this far!

"F-Fucking hell! MC!" He managed to say between the small intervals where you raised his head and let him breath, it's sad that this is what he decided to say.

You slammed his head back down on the pillow and moved your hip back and forth, enough to push him forward and have him holding the bed frame.

And then he tapped your thigh signaling that he's about to cum, and being a nice human, you let him, but this time, you didn't raise his head to let him breath and now you can see the panic.

How he was struggling to push himself up as cum leak out of his cock continuously, you harshly pulled his hair to let him breath "A-Ah~ I-I can't breath please!" He was holding your hands as he begged, tears and sweat messing up his face.

It was a sight to behold before you push him back down.

#obey me #obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #obey me nightbringer #obey me scenarios #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #omswd #omnb #obey me smut #obey me Lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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justauthoring · 10 days ago

Text

Kitchen Encounters

Request: opla sanji !! \/ \/ Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: OPLA!Sanji Vinsmoke x F!Reader

A/N: I normally don't do requests without actual story ideas but I needed to feed the OPLA!Sanji girlies :)

Word Count: 1,201

You've guessed it - this isn't spell checked :) (Also, Taz looks so good in this GIF???)

"Here. Like this."

You can feel the warmth of Sanji's chest press into your back. His whole body swarms you, enveloping you in his tender embrace. If you weren't you, and you didn't feel the way you did, you imagined this would feel quite lovely.

Calming even.

However, it is the complete opposite for you in that moment. In fact, you're starting to fear that Sanji can feel the erratic race of your heart. You're only thankful he can't see your face all that clearly, because it would be mortifying for him to see just how hot your cheeks have grown.

And it isn't even just the way you can feel the hardness of his chest or how warm he is or how his body swallows you completely -- it's the way his breath dances across the shell of your ear and the side of your neck as he speaks. He's saying what you imagine is important steps to remember for the recipe he's trying to teach you, but you can't even begin to focus on listening.

How could you? When he was making you feel this way?

Eventual, the low hum of his voice stops and you realize that if you don't move, he'll most likely be concerned. So, with shaky hands and barely having heard any of his instructions, you attempt to cut the vegetables.

You can tell it's wrong instantly.

"N-No, love," Sanji cuts in, voice still soft and patient (and still sending shivers down your spine). He reaches forward, still surrounding you, taking the knife from your hands. It's then he notices just how shaky they are.

"Are you nervous?" He asks, and tilts his body so he can look at you from the side. Your eyes meet his, briefly, before you turn away, tucking your chin in in a futile effort not to let him see how flustered you are. "There's no reason to be nervous. I won't--"

"No, no," you cut, maybe a little too desperately. "No, not nervous. Just... um, well, I'm a little cold. That's all."

Sanji finally steps back, and you try not to make the sag of relief your body falls in so obvious. There's a puzzled expression on his face as he glances around the kitchen. "Cold?" He frowns, as if the mere idea of you being cold is the worst thing he can let happen. "I try to keep the kitchen warm... Maybe we should stop. I don't want you to--"

"No," you say, again, cursing yourself for the squeak of your voice. "I-I mean, it's okay, Sanji." You force a smile to your lips, meeting his eyes finally as you gesture back to the ingredients laid out on the table. "I told you I wanted to help with dinner, didn't I? I'd like to continue. If you don't mind."

Sanji hesitates, eyes flickering across your face.

"Are you sure?" He asks, ever the gentleman. "Your face looks a little flushed... Maybe you're coming down with a cold? I can make you some tea."

(It's then you decide you're going to kill Nami for ever convincing you this was a good idea.)

He steps past you, with the intention of dropping everything just for your comfort, but you grab onto him before he can. Your fingers slip around the edge of his sleeve, and he halts instantly, glancing down at you in bafflement.

"I-I'm not sick," you assure, insides twisting with nerves at what you're about to say. This whole idea was crumbling down around you.

Nami had told you this would be a good way of getting to spend more time with Sanji. Also a way to get to know him better. Help him with something he enjoys, she'd suggested, like cooking dinner!

It was a good idea. Great, even. Or, it would be if you could get your feelings for Sanji under control for longer than ten seconds. You just couldn't help it! He was so chivalrous with everything he did. If it wasn't dropping everything and anything for you, it was the way he called you 'love' or the way he'd smile at you.

It never failed to make your heart race and your mind blank.

You'd been in love with the man the very first time your eyes met his way back in the baratie, and you'd been hopeless about it since.

"I just... oh god, this is so embarrassing," you pout, eyes falling to your feet.

Sanji steps towards you, allowing your grip on him to ease as he smiles down at you. "What is it, Y/N?" He asks, voice soft and gentle and so understanding. "What ever it is, you can tell me."

Meeting his eyes, you only see warmth and kindness staring back at you. Sanji is all too patient with you as you work the words out in your brain.

"I just... You make me flustered..." You whisper, avoiding his eyes again. Your free hand clenches, twisting in nerves. "I wanted to spend time with you... but I... please don't make me say it."

There's a echo of silence, eventually, your head tilts back up to look at him, fearing the worse. Only, Sanji's staring down at you with parted lips and wide eyes.

Your heart plummets.

"Oh god, I've made you uncomfortable!" You breathe, panicked as both hands fall to your face, humiliated. "I'm sorry, Sanji. I just--"

Fingers wrap around your wrists, gently prying your hands from your face. Your words fall flat, lips left parted as slowly you see Sanji staring back at you. He's still shocked, but he's shaking his head.

"No, Y/N, I just..." And he hesitates, struggling as you had to find the words. "I just didn't think you'd felt the same as me."

It takes your brain approximately three seconds to process and understand what Sanji's just said. When it does, your eyes widen;

"What?"

"I like you too, Y/N," he breathes, hands still wrapped around your wrists, "if that's what you meant."

Lips parting, you nod. "I... I--yes."

The shock on his face eases into something akin to relief and joy, a gentle smile curling on his lips as he lets go of your hands to brush back a strand of loose hair from your face. You tense at the touch, cheeks warming as you blink up at him.

"I can hardly believe it," he mumbles, eyes crinkling at the corners with happiness. "Now I know why you always get so flustered around me."

You blink, registering that his endearing confession ended with a slight tease at you.

"Hey!" You call, blinking out of your own stupor as he laughs in response. "Don't make fun of me!"

"I wasn't," he assures with ease. "I always thought it was adorable."

You flush even more.

Hands pressing to your face, once again, you let out a whine; "I never should've told you."

Sanji simply just pulls your hands away, again, shaking his head. "I'm glad you did. And don't hide from me. I want to see your pretty face," you let out another cry as Sanji chuckles once more. "Now, should we finish with dinner or are your hands still too shaky?"

"Sanji!"

#one piece #one piece live action #opla #opla x reader #opla imagine #opla x you #opla sanji #one piece sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji x you #sanji vinsmoke #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji

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solxamber · 6 months ago

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HEHEHGIGUGI ITS ME AGAIN THE SERAPHIM AND THE CAT ONE

Can i request a witch reader with Vil, Rook, Trey, and Malleus!! (I forgot if its 4 limits or 5, whoops but only that) You can write however you like if its headcannon or how you write it!! Also can you do it on Romantic shshsh‼️‼️🫶🫶

Rook, Trey, Malleus, Vil with a Witch! Reader

hi! thank you for waiting and i hope you like it <3 (also there aren't limits for number of characters)

Rook Hunt

Rook, a true romantic and ever-curious soul, is constantly mesmerized by your craft. He adores watching you work, fascinated by every detail, and often appears just as you’re about to cast a spell, like he knows exactly when something extraordinary is about to happen.

One evening, he surprises you mid-ritual, leaning in to whisper, “Ah, the witch at work, casting beauty into the world.”

“Rook!” you laugh, a little flustered. “Aren’t you supposed to give me space to concentrate?”

“On the contrary,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Watching you brings me closer to the divine. It’s as if each spell you cast is an invitation to witness your heart.”

As he speaks, he presses a kiss to your hand, his words a spell of their own. You find yourself captivated by the unique magic only Rook can create—a blend of curiosity, charm, and unshakable devotion.

Trey Clover

Trey is both grounded and warm, and he respects your magical abilities without a hint of fear. Whenever you experiment with potion-making, he’s your quiet supporter, ready with any ingredient you need.

One evening, you’re preparing a special love potion—just for fun—and Trey chuckles as you explain the recipe.

“What, you don’t believe in love potions?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I believe,” he replies, pulling a stray leaf from your hair, “but I don’t think you need one. You’ve already cast your spell on me.”

You feel your face heat up, but Trey simply smiles, his gaze gentle and warm. He reaches for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. "Let’s skip the potions,” he says softly. “You and I don’t need magic for this.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is captivated by your magic, drawn to you as if he’s known you for centuries. He’s endlessly curious about your spells, often standing nearby as you perform them, his eyes watching with reverence.

One misty evening, he finds you crafting a charm under the moonlight. As you finish, Malleus steps forward, his expression unusually soft. “Your magic… it has a warmth that even my fae spells lack.”

“You flatter me, Malleus,” you reply, smiling up at him. “I’m honored to have caught the attention of someone so powerful.”

He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles with an old-world elegance. “Power means little to me if it cannot protect what is precious.” His gaze is intense, holding yours. “And you, my dear witch, are precious indeed.”

Under the stars, Malleus’s words hang in the air, leaving a warmth that feels like it could last an eternity.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil has always been enchanted by beauty in its many forms, but there's something about your magic that captivates him in a way he never expected. He watches you as you work, studying your movements as if each one were part of an intricate dance. One evening, he finds you under the warm glow of candlelight, carefully crafting an enchantment, your hands moving gracefully over the ingredients.

He steps closer, his voice smooth and gentle. “Do you realize the spell you’ve woven on me without even trying?” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on you.

You smile, slightly flustered but intrigued. “I could say the same about you, Vil.”

Vil reaches for your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Then perhaps I’ve found the magic that surpasses any potion, any spell.” His gaze is intense, unwavering, as if he’s seeing right through to your soul. “Stay close to me, won’t you?” he asks softly, the hint of vulnerability in his words surprising but endearing.

With a smile, you nod, finding comfort in his presence. Vil leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reverent. “You’re more captivating than any beauty I’ve ever known,” he whispers, his voice filled with a sincerity that leaves your heart racing.

In that quiet moment, it’s clear that he isn’t just drawn to your magic—he’s drawn to you.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #rook hunt x reader #rook x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #trey clover x reader #trey x reader

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sqgeism · 16 days ago

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Hello!! I love love your writing! Can I request a married!Rex x reader fic with him as a girl daddy, what kind of husband he is, and the two of them navigating their married life with him having to go out for hero duties often and the non-superpowered reader taking responsibility for their family in the meantime? Reader can be f! Or gender neutral. Thank you!!

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 | rex sloan 'splode' x female reader

love mail — thank you anonnie!!! ure so sweet :'] loosely based on how my father raised me #ilovemydad!! my favorite trope ever <3 girldad rex agenda spreads

first week after the birth was a wreck, but not for the reasons you think. instead of being worried about the baby, you were worried about rex. he sits by the cradle every night, watching his baby girl, just admiring her. doesn't even realize it's four in the morning and you've got to drag him back into bed.

he doesn't mean to. but oh my goodness, he does. that little lady has your husband under a spell and you don't mind, needing some time to recover as he takes care of the baby. but just because he's got the baby, doesn't mean he neglects you. he makes you meals, tidies the house, and makes sure that your already exhausted body doesn't have to work hard until you're okay again.

rex is a good husband, he is. just because he's a hero doesn't mean he isn't a father. when he actually has to go to work, and you take care of the baby while he's gone, he makes sure to at least check in when he has the chance. "do you need me to buy anything?" is a call you often get when he's on his way home, take-out or ingredients in hand for dinner.

and every night, without fail, rex makes sure to play with his little girl till she grows tired. when he can't, it'll be in morning up to the time he has to leave for work. it warms your heart to see him so.. present, even if he's juggling so many responsibilities. he was so rough around the edges back then, so sarcastic and foul mouthed. but he's.. softened. his love is kinder, becoming such a dear. definitely not a knight in shining armor, but a loving husband in a 'kiss the cook' apron. which can be seen as arguably better.

rex finds himself a little dependent on you for sleep. he can't sleep without your kisses to his eyelids, making sure they stay shut. but sometimes he'll intentionally fight sleep, forcing his eyes to open just to hear you laugh and kiss him more, trying to get him to rest. he loves this, a life so domestic. a life he never thought he deserved.

until he met you. love seemed so foreign to him, yet you opened his heart gently — and he knew he was a goner.

he'd be with you till his last breath. and love you even beyond death, for nothing could stop his soul from needing yours.

#ㅤ 𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ㅤnew flower bloomed ! :ೃ࿔𔓘 #wrote this after 3 boiled eggs #rex sloan fanfic #rex sloan x reader #rex splode x reader #rex sloan #rex splode #invincible x y/n #invincible x you #invincible x reader

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 7 months ago

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Hiiii! ^^

Could I request riddle,Leona,and Kalim who’s s/o was put under a love spell on purpose by another student so now they’re in love with said student, and the only way for them to break the spell on their s/o is by an act of true love?

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim doesn’t understand the switch-up, finding himself with an unbearable pain in his chest that no potion could cure. He heard whispers of something underfoot but couldn’t pinpoint the rumors, and you were almost refusing to talk to him at that point. Your new significant other seemed to keep you apart as long as possible, always at your side, and Kalim realized he had to say what he needed to regardless of who was around. His declaration of love is loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear, saying he knew you were meant to grow old together but if you didn’t feel the same, he would simply accept it. He would wait forever if he had to, even if you came back when he was a wrinkled old man on his last legs, just one more year of being together would make him the happiest man in the world. The potions persuasive powers never stood a chance against his genuine, slightly awkward words, and Kalim is overjoyed when you’re back in his arms.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona doesn’t hesitate to investigate your sudden change in attitude, a good excuse to ignore the negativity swirling around inside of him as you appeared attached to another student’s side. It would be all too easy to beat the tar out of the student and then force him to reverse the effects, but that wouldn’t be an elegant show for a prince, would it? But a public declaration… As much as he loathed the thought of others in his business, he had to make it clear you were his. He hadn’t started a relationship with a person he didn’t have a future with, and he wasn’t going to be start all over with someone new. When he spoke others paid attention, and your gaze is drawn to him as he kept his eyes on you, as if there were no one else around. You were his, only his, just as he was yours, and he told you to consider that fact before finding yourself distracted by some herbivore. His actions generally spoke for him but for him to use his words was shocking enough that the potions effects wore off completely, and you find yourself in his arms confused about why you had done what you did. Leona sent a smirk to the student who had never truly captured your interest, the glint of his fangs serving as a threat if anymore foolishness was to take place.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle had never been more bewildered in his life. Had he done something wrong? Was there a relationship rule he had forgotten about that left you upset with him? He can’t imagine what he had done or why you couldn’t answer him, frustrated that he was left in the dark. Cater is the one who mentioned a new potion recipe floating around that could cause the sudden switch-up, recoiling at the sight of Riddle’s furrowed eyebrows and scowl as he asked how it could wear off. With no solution easily found Riddle began to research how to reverse these effects, looking into the ingredients used and spending long hours with his nose buried in various books to the point he was ignoring the Queen of Hearts rules. When he can finally brew the perfect concoction he enlisted Trey’s help (almost as if he was afraid to face you directly should this 'cure' fail), who placed it inside a treat you could never deny. You seem puzzled about why you’re not with Riddle, as tea time was approaching and you scurried off without a second thought as you didn’t want to be scolded for being late.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Kalim Al Asim #Leona Kingscholar #Riddle Rosehearts #Kalim Al Asim x Reader #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

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siriuslovebot · 2 years ago

Text

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 ➸ 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏 ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: hi! can i please request a remus x reader in which the reader has always had a huge crush on him, but thought the feelings were unrequited? she lets the secret slip to lily & marlene and somehow it gets back to remus who finds it very endearing and teases her a bit?

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: shy!reader, playful teasing, the pet name mouse, some suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader has always had a huge crush on remus. the girls find out and marlene accidentally lets it get back to remus.

𝑨/𝑵: thank you for your request, lovely anon! i’ve luckily got a few requests that i’m working on, so thank you all for being patient with me. i also want to say thank you for all of the love on my last post! i was very nervous about my first post and i received so much love and support! requests are still open, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 4.1k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

“morning, mouse.”

there’s a teasing touch to remus’s voice as he slides into the seat beside you. you glance at him out of the side of your eye as you take your potions textbook out of your bag, placing it gently on the table. a huff leaves your lips.

“are you lot ever gonna let that go?” you frown, crossing your arms as you turn to him.

there’s a soft smile playing on his lips, and a chuckle from sirius behind him as he joins the pair of you at the table.

“never gonna forget the look on mcgonagall’s face when she turned around,” says sirius brightly. you scowl at him, wanting to wipe the stupid amused grin right off of his face.

“shut up,” you say.

“it wasn’t so bad. you had a rather cute little snout…” remus touches a finger to the tip of his nose, his smile slowly changing from gentle to a rather shit-eating one.

“oh come on, how many people can say they turned themselves into a mouse, y/n? takes proper skill to cast a spell without realizing your wand is turned the wrong way.”

your face flushes pink. “i–i was distracted!” you defend.

“distracted, that’s right… chatting away to moony and casting spells at the same time. how’ve you gone this long without blowing yourself to pieces?”

you stick your tongue out at him, shoving his shoulder and laughing as he tumbles halfway off of his seat. he catches himself, making a face as he regains his spot.

“watch yourself, black,” you threaten. “how’d you like to be a dog permanently?”

“double check you’ve your wand turned the right way ‘round this time, yeah?”

there’s a thumping noise as you backhand his arm, and he winces dramatically.

“all right, you two,” says remus, voice amused. “slughorn’s here.”

chastised, you and sirius settle into your seats. the chattering of the rest of the class settles, and professor slughorn directs you to open your books to the correct chapter. you shift in your seat, glancing over at remus as he gathers his potions ingredients. his elbow nudges yours as he adjusts his cauldron.

“sorry, mouse,” he says offhandedly. though you insist you hate the silly nickname, the sound of him saying it makes your stomach do a little flip. your neck and ears burn, but you say nothing, instead focusing on the task at hand. sirius is distracted by james mouthing something at him across the classroom, which has caught lily’s attention as well. her gaze catches you for a second, and you hope she’s too far away to see the flustered expression decorating your features as you scramble to start on your potion.

invested in your textbook, you don’t notice when james makes his way over to your table, peering into your cauldrons as he returns from the class stores, having run out of one of his ingredients. “wonder why old sluggy’s got us brewing beautification potions,” he comments, making a face as he peers from sirius’s potion to remus’s.

“probably heard about y/n’s incident in transfiguration,” said sirius slyly, nudging your shoulder. your mouth falls open as james laughs.

“pads,” remus warns, throwing him a sharp glance.

sirius’s clear eyes dart between you and remus, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “sorry,” he says, “didn’t mean it, honest. y’know i think you’re fit, y/n.” he flashes a smile, turning on the charm.

you roll your eyes. “you’re a right git, you know that?”

“oh, come on. i’d have snogged the lights out of you by now if lily didn’t have her bloody rules,” he continues, back to his potion. james sniggering laugh fades as he returns to his table with lily and peter.

“‘m going to pretend i didn’t hear that,” says remus.

“likewise,” you agree, an incredulous laugh bubbling in your chest. sirius responds with a noncommittal shrug, sprinkling a handful of rose petals into his potion without a care in the world.

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“so, mouse, how’d your study session in the library go?” the sound of the nickname coming in lily’s teasing voice causes your face to burn hot.

you turn towards her, having just pulled your nightgown over your head. you make a face, raking a hand through your hair as you flop onto your bed. marlene’s sprawled on her stomach at the end of your bed, flicking through a muggle magazine that lily brought back from holiday.

“not you too!” you complain, sighing heavily.

“i’m only teasing,” she says, leaning against the windowsill with her arms crossed over her chest. her lips are curled up in amusement, features slightly shadowed by the moonlight spilling in through the window behind her.

“i’ll never be y/n again. i’m gonna be mouse for the rest of my life at this rate,” you grumble, frustrated. “i mean, you accidentally transfigure yourself one time, and suddenly you’ve got a stupid nickname for life…”

marlene giggles at your dramatics, dropping the magazine onto your bed. “i think you’ll be okay. seems like james and sirius have gotten all of their fun out of it…” she trailed thoughtfully. “sirius was having the most fun with it, and even he was back to calling you y/n by the end of dinner.”

“remus, though,” lily begins, her eyes flashing with mischief. “seems like he really likes it.”

you swallow hard, trying not to think of the way your heart pounds at the sound of the silly nickname in his voice. tearing your eyes away from lily, you try to mask the embarrassment blooming on your face. even when the pair of you went to the library after your evening meal, he had taken to calling you ‘mouse’ without even realizing it. almost affectionately. you’d been reeling with butterflies the entire time, unable to focus on studying for your upcoming exams.

“kind of endearing, isn’t it?” continues marlene. “i mean, he gets this dreamy sort of look in his eyes when he’s talking to you… and it’s sort of a sweet nickname, if you think about it…”

“oh, come on,” you interject, as if they’re being ridiculous.

“no, honestly, y/n, you’re a bit oblivious,” lily adds. “he definitely thinks you’re fit.”

marlene smiles as you glance between the two of them, nodding her head in agreement. “and don’t lie and say you don’t feel the same way,” she warns.

“guys–”

lily narrows her eyes at you, “no lying.”

“i see you going all starry-eyed when you’re with him!” marlene sits up at the end of your bed, clasping her hands in her lap as she looks at you expectantly. “i’d bet ten galleons you curl up in your bed at night and dream of snogging remus lupin.”

“oh my godric,” you mutter, placing your hands to your burning face. you can’t bear to look either of them in the eye. you hate that they know you so well, and even worse that you’re doing a horrible job of hiding your crush on one of your best friends. it’s a miracle that no one’s gone blasting it all over the school yet.

“so it’s true?” lily prompts, leaning in to better hear your admission of guilt.

you huff, “don’t make me admit it.” your voice comes out as a whine, and that’s how they know they’ve got you. your secret has been exposed, and they’re having a giggling fit over it.

“next thing you know we’ll be finding moony and the mouse, curled up snogging in the common room,” says marlene, sounding smug.

“shut up,” you plead, though you can’t help the stupid smile that comes onto your lips as you shake your head.

“breaking all sorts of rules,” says lily. “including mine!”

lily’s one explicit rule: no marauders hooking up with her friends. a tried and true method of keeping the boys (mostly sirius) out of yours and marlene’s pants. it’s been foolproof.

“oh, shove it with the rules, evans,” marlene retorts. “you’d forget all about them once the four of you can go on silly little double dates.”

you feign a gag, and it sends them both into fits of laughter. “i am not going on any double dates.”

“no,” says lily, breathless, “i don’t think remus would like that very much, either…”

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“where’s your chaperone, mckinnon?” it’s sirius, lounging on one of the sofas in the gryffindor common room. his wand is in his hand, flicking back and forth as he sends a tiny spark of light bouncing around the common room. he’s bored, waiting for the return of remus and james, probably to cause some trouble.

marlene crosses her arms over her chest. “she’s wrapped around your best friend, black,” she says, a faux-disgusted look plastered on her face. “they’re in a broom closet, snogging each other’s faces off…”

“ugh,” sirius says, dropping his wand as he leans up on his elbows to meet marlene’s gaze. “i showed james that bloody closet. now he’s gone and defiled it…” he flops back onto the couch, looking slightly sickened.

“can’t keep their hands off each other, the pair of them,” sirius continues after a moment.

marlene laughs, settling into one of the plush armchairs near the sofa sirius occupies. “you’re telling me.”

“what about moony?” sirius asks.

“studying with y/n.”

sirius nods, having expected that answer. “y’know, they’re as bad as lily and james. worse, i think,” he says. “it’s a nightmare, having to watch him fawn over her like a little lost puppy. i mean, ‘m supposed to be the canine here…” he shakes his head.

“you should hear y/n,” marlene counters. she’s not thinking as she speaks to sirius, not realizing she’s going on about your crush that you explicitly asked her not to discuss with anyone, especially not james or sirius. “the girl’s just dreaming of being shoved into a broom closet with remus. i wish they’d get over themselves and get a room.”

there’s a second of quiet between them, before marlene realizes what she’s just done. her eyes widen, and she blinks as sirius turns to look at her. she opens her mouth, though no words come out for a moment. “sirius–”

“well, i don’t know about shoving but–”

“sirius, listen to me,” marlene threatens, her voice sharp. “you can’t say anything. please. y/n will kill me.”

“ah, marls, that ship has sailed,” he laughs, sitting up. “moony’s in for a treat.” he practically leaps from his place on the sofa, looking awfully haughty as he plans to expose the blooming feelings between the two of his friends.

“sirius!” she hisses. “i’ll give you five galleons to keep it to yourself. please.”

sirius tuts, shaking his head. “sorry, love. i’ve no need for your money. besides, i’m doing all of us a favor here.”

marlene deflates before him, feeling extremely defeated as she watches sirius leave the common room, a new swagger in his step. dread clouds her senses as she realizes she’s going to have to tell you that she revealed your crush on remus.

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“you’re looking awfully chipper this morning,” comments sirius, eyes skirting over you as you join him in the corridor.

“it’s hogsmeade weekend,” you say simply, hooking your arm through his to lead him down to the entry hall. it seems the rest of your friends have left already, none of them keen on waiting for you to return from the greenhouses this morning after helping professor sprout harvest flobberworm mucous for extra credit. “thanks for waiting for me, by the way.”

“someone had to,” he says, sounding a bit sheepish.

you roll your eyes, used to his faux disdain at your expense. “how’s moony?” you ask as you join the rest of the students making their way down to hogsmeade. the full moon was a couple nights ago, and you hadn’t seen your beloved lycanthrope in far too long. he tended to avoid you when it was, ahem, that time of the month, and though you thought it was unnecessary during the day, you understood. sirius and james could deal with him when he was in that state, but none of them liked to risk having you or the girls anywhere near his furry little problem. it was thoughtful, honestly.

“exhausted,” replies sirius. “he wanted to wait for you, but lily didn’t want to leave him alone. reckon she was scared he’d fall asleep standing up and get a concussion.”

you laugh half-heartedly and wonder why remus didn’t decide to stay behind and get some sleep. you worried about him, oftentimes wondering if he was truly taking care of himself properly. each time he went out to the shrieking shack he returned with new scars, looking more and more ill as the weeks went on. it was a wonder he was managing his classes and keeping decent marks.

you chatter back and forth as you make your way to hogsmeade, sirius recounting their latest excursion in the shrieking shack. you finally make it to hogsmeade, spotting lily’s bright hair shining in the sun, and the goofy look on james’s face as he does some impersonation of one of your classmates, that you just happen to catch the tail-end of.

“who’s that you’re mocking, prongs?” you raise your eyebrows, arms crossed as the group begins marching towards the three broomsticks.

“i’ll have a guess,” says sirius. he thinks it over for a second, then a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. “that hufflepuff fifth year, what’s his name? the burly one, tried out for seeker and wrecked his broom into the stands?”

james erupts into a fit of cackling laughter, nodding his head. “yes, yes!” he claps, looking quite pleased with his interpretation of the hufflepuff boy’s less than graceful dismount. remus laughs softly, while marlene rolls her eyes.

“not everyone is as adept as you on a broomstick, potter,” says marlene.

“i’m only joking,” james says, shrugging. “‘sides, it’s not like anyone’s gonna tell the poor guy. what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” the dark-haired boy winks as he opens the door to the three broomsticks, waving you all inside.

you nudge remus in the side as you stand in the crowd, waiting to push through the gaggles of students to find a table big enough to fit all of you.

“hello, mouse,” he says, voice tired although he’s sporting his usual smile. sirius was right. he looks awfully haggard, and a lot like he should be in bed instead of traipsing through hogsmeade.

“how are you feeling?” you ask, concerned. your conversation is overshadowed by the chatter all around you, which you’re thankful for. it’s unlikely anyone could overhear the two of you discussing his delicate situation.

“i could go for a long nap,” he says, truthfully. “missed you, though.”

your heart leaps in your chest, and a shy half-smile finds its way to your lips. “you don’t have to exhaust yourself just to see me, rem,” you say, flushed.

“i don’t mind.” he shrugs. his hand bumps yours as you stand, watching sirius push through a crowd of confused looking third-years, heading for a table in the corner. he hooks one finger with yours for half a second, before the two of you are following your friends to the table.

you swear the touch sends your whole body vibrating, your heart beating loudly enough that you’re sure everyone in the pub can hear it. you take your seat, head swimming as you settle down and order a butterbeer when madame rosmerta comes for your orders.

after the three broomsticks, your group splits up. james and sirius flit off to spintwitches sporting needs, james muttering something about new quidditch gloves. marlene and lily run into mary macdonald outside of honeydukes. which leaves you and remus.

“right, mouse, where to?” remus looks to you for direction, having brightened up a bit since having something to drink. he’s much less ill-looking, although you notice a fresh scar creeping up from beneath the neckline of his sweater. your eyes skirt over the wound, but you jerk your attention away before he notices.

“how about gladrags?” you wonder aloud. “i saw a nice blouse in there on the last hogsmeade weekend. ‘course, i talked myself out of buying it at the time, but i really want it…” you realize that you’re rambling, and stop before you can embarrass yourself.

“after you,” he offers his arm, and you try not to look flustered as you take it.

gladrags is empty as ever, very few wizards doing any clothing shopping at this time of year, it seems. the cashier is an ancient elderly lady, who shouts hello at you as you enter. you reply, but she’s got hearing problems, and you’re not loud enough. remus shouts a greeting back, earning a smile from the lady and a fit of giggles from you.

“poor old woman,” remus says, amused.

“hush,” you say quietly, although there’s no risk of her accidentally hearing you.

“sorry,” he says, eyes still crinkled as he smiles. “now, where is this lovely blouse?” he inquires, quirking an eyebrow. you finger through the racks, looking for the pale-coloured, silken fabric. you finally find it, the last shirt on a very back rack.

“what do you think?” you ask, holding the fabric up against your front, peering down at it.

“hmmm,” remus examines the fabric, taking the tail of it between his fingers. “looks like a blouse.”

you roll your eyes. “this is why i don’t go shopping with boys,” you say, laughing softly.

“maybe you should try it on,” he suggests. “i’m sure it looks better on.”

you nod. “good idea,” you flit off to the changing rooms. remus waits for you, your coat draped over his arm as he waits for you to change, listening to you curse as you fiddle with the buttons on the blouse. you adjust the lace outlining the neckline and the sleeves, smoothing the fabric as you eye yourself in the mirror.

“okay, rem, what do you think?” you thrust open the curtain to the changing room. remus’s eyes widen a tad, and you swear there’s a flush of pink across his cheeks. he forces his gaze up from the dip in the silken fabric that accentuates your chest, and meets your eyes. you shift under his gaze, looking hopeful.

“erm,” he clears his throat, brushing a strand of hair off of his forehead. “much better on, absolutely. very pretty, mouse.”

“i thought so, too,” you agree, turning away and sweeping the curtain shut behind you. outside, you hear him swear under his breath and the sound of shuffling. your hands tremble a bit, your nerves getting the better of you. the complement, coupled with the bloody nickname. it’s enough to have your head spinning, wishing you could just grab him by the shoulders and kiss him silly. in your mind’s eye you see the almost bashful look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you, and you can’t focus on anything else.

after a few moments of struggling with the stupid buttons, unable to undo them, you hear his voice on the other side of the door.

“okay in there?” he asks, closer now. the sound of his voice sends a jolt through you.

“i’m all right,” you respond. “can’t get these bleeding buttons undone.”

it’s quiet for a second. “need help, mouse?”

you freeze. he sounds like he genuinely wants to help. you tell yourself he’s just a friend offering help to his friend. deep down, though, you’re hopeful. maybe your feelings are not as one-sided as you thought…

you struggle with the buttons for another second, then concede. you peek out of the changing room, ensuring there are no witnesses, before dragging him inside by the sleeve of his sweater. there’s a split second of tension, his gaze finding your half-unbuttoned blouse before it lands on your clearly flustered expression.

he laughs gently. your brows pull together.

“what’s funny?” you ask, frowning.

“‘m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “let me just…” he trails, hanging up your discarded coat before his nimble fingers come to the buttons on your chest. goosebumps rise on your skin, and you try not to shiver. you follow his movements, his face screwed up in concentration as he fiddles with the tricky buttons.

“i’m starting to rethink this purchase, considering it’s a nightmare getting off,” you say, pressing your lips together as his eyes flick up to your face. he smiles, amused.

“i think you should get it,” remus says.

“you think so?”

“yeah. especially if you’ll be needing my help taking it off more often.” you swear he winks at you, and your knees turn into jelly. has he really just said that? you blink for a second, one of your hands coming up to stop his fingers from unhooking the buttons.

“moony…”

“what?” he looks up at you, a teasing glint in his pale brown eyes.

your cheeks are pink, and your eyes dreamy as you look at him. his skin is warm where your hand is clasped around his, and despite his exhaustion, he’s never felt more alive.

“i– sorry,” he says, “you just— you look very beautiful. and i think it would be a waste not to buy this blouse when it wouldn’t look nearly as good on anyone else.” his voice has gone quiet. he swallows before continuing. “sirius said... well, maybe he was lying, but he said you have feelings for me... and i just wanted you to know that i feel the same.”

the butterflies in your stomach have turned to dragons, ravaging your insides. you’re pressed close to him, close enough to feel his breath fanning over your skin. inside your chest, your heart is beating fast enough that you’re sure it’s going to burst any second. with your free hand, you reach up and slowly trace the new scar on his neck, up to his face. you cup his cheek, your thumb swiping just beneath his clear eyes.

“can i kiss you, mouse?” he asks, the question barely audible.

“i would like that,” you say simply.

there’s a split second of hesitation, before he’s pulling you into him. his lips are softer than you expected, gently parting to deepen the kiss. you tighten your grasp around his hand, and your other hand snakes around to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. he presses closer to you, very lightly, as if you’re delicate. you hum against his mouth, your head swimming as you finally force yourself to part ways. the blouse is still halfway undone, forgotten between the two of you. you’re drunk on his presence, wishing you were back in the castle so you could have him all to yourself, for as long as you’d like.

“we–um, do you want to get out of here?” you suggest, pressing your lips together. the ghost of his mouth against yours is driving you crazy. you feel incomplete without him wrapped around you. you want him touching you, forever.

“let’s get this off, quick,” he says, nodding. he struggles for another second with the pesky buttons, and then you’re slipping the blouse over your shoulders. remus adverts his gaze, and you can’t help but smile. such a gentleman. you adore him.

“is the coast clear?” you wonder, once you’re dressed and ready to go.

“think we’re all right,” he says. he leads you to the front counter, and generously pays for your new blouse, which he admits he likes very much.

“in fact,” he says as you exit the shop, “i think you should wear it again tonight.”

“really?” you ask, unable to mask the beaming smile on your face.

“mhmm,” he agrees, interlacing your fingers as he leads you down the street, in search of the rest of your friends. “actually, i think it’d be quite nice tomorrow night, too… and the night after that, and after that…” he trails, grinning as you smack him playfully on the arm.

it seems the rest of the group have been searching for you for a while, lily approaching with an exasperated look on her face.

“where have you two been?” she asks.

“we’ve been looking everywhere,” adds marlene.

“sorry–” you begin, but you’re cut off by sirius, who takes a step closer to peer at the two of you.

“why have you got that look on your face, moony?” he narrows his gaze at remus, who shrugs. “and you–” he turns to you “--your lips are all swollen. oh! merlin, you’ve been off swapping saliva haven’t you?” he makes a very long, exaggerated gagging noise to which james offers loud laughter.

“oh, shut up, sirius,” you mutter, shoving him as you begin your walk back to the castle. “you’re just mad that no one’s offered to swap saliva with you.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader fluff #marauders era #marauders era fic #marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #slb.works #fluff

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ankababy · 2 months ago

Text

A Home (part 10)

Part 1 Part 9 Part 11

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

Stay in, get better, get worse, go out, the cycle fucking continues.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the kitchen as you moved around, quietly humming to yourself. You felt good.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t dragging yourself out of bed, weighed down by guilt and exhaustion. You weren’t thinking about blood on your hands, about the way the man’s body had hit the floor, about the sound that still echoed in your skull if you thought too hard about it.

No.

It had passed. It was behind you now. A thing that happened, a moment you had to get through, a mistake maybe—but not one you’d ever make again. It didn’t define you.

And you were fine.

You smelled good, perfume that worked like a love spell clinging to your skin, soft and sweet. Your hair was up, all cute and what the fuck not, and the clothes you wore were comfortable, warm, making you feel safe in your own skin. Pretty.

It felt nice to feel pretty again.

You moved easily, reaching for ingredients, making something simple, something warm. Maybe they’d eat, maybe they wouldn’t. You were still making it anyway. You wanted to.

And it was funny, wasn’t it? How easily you fell back into the habit of giving to them.

Chishiya. You understood him better now—or maybe you just thought you did. Either way, you accepted it. He didn’t just keep things to himself, he hoarded them. His knowledge, his emotions, his attachment to you—because that’s what it was, even if he’d never say it.

And Niragi. Niragi.

He wanted so much, all the time. Craved everything, touch, praise, you. He wanted to drown in you, sink his fingers into your warmth and take and take, but he never wanted to admit it. No, that would make him weak. That would mean he needed something outside of himself. And Niragi didn’t need—he won. He claimed.

You let both of them.

That’s what this was, wasn’t it? You believed them now. That you were fine. That this was fine. That they were fine.

Maybe they were cruel, maybe they were manipulative, maybe they were monsters—but they kept you. Protected you. Gave you something no one else could in this world.

And you didn’t have it in you to resist.

So, you just kept moving, pouring tea, all that.

And you didn’t realize just how lost you were until you heard the soft shuffle of footsteps behind you—and the warmth that bloomed in your chest was instant.

Chishiya was never loud.

You glanced over your shoulder as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, gaze sweeping over you. The way you moved, the way your hair fell, the way your perfume lingered in the air between you.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just watched.

“Good morning.” you greeted softly, finishing what you were doing before turning to face him fully. “Did you sleep?”

His brow lifted just slightly, like the question was funny. “Would it make a difference?”

Your lips pressed together, and you sighed. “It would if you actually did it.”

“I function fine without it.”

“That’s not the point.”

Chishiya just tilted his head slightly, like the conversation was already boring him. But you weren’t deterred. You knew him better now. Knew that just because he acted indifferent didn’t mean he was.

“…Want some?” you finally asked, gesturing vaguely to what you’d been making.

He didn’t answer right away, gaze flicking to the food, then back to you. Considering. Like he was deciding whether he wanted to accept something from you or not.

“Sure.”

You smiled at that. Just a little. Just enough.

And then—of course—Niragi.

Heavy footsteps down the hall, groggy grumbling, and then he was there, slumping into the doorway, rubbing a hand over his face.

“You’re loud as fuck.” he complained, voice rough with sleep.

You blinked at him. “I was barely talking.”

He squinted at you, then at Chishiya. “Yeah, well, my ears are too fucking good.”

Chishiya just snorted as he reached for the mug you’d set down for him. “Maybe shooting guns all the time should’ve made you deaf.” he mused, taking a sip. “Shame it didn’t.”

Niragi flipped him off, still half-asleep, then turned his attention fully to you.

And just like that, his annoyance faded. Just like that, he switched gears, all smooth and lazy as he pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer, gaze flicking over you, taking in how pretty you looked, how soft you seemed.

“…You smell good, beautiful.”

“Thank you.” you said, voice light, casual, like it wasn’t a thing at all. You didn’t look away, didn’t shy away, just smiled a little, eyes warm, soft.

His lips quirked into something smug, something self-satisfied, because of course you thanked him, of course you looked at him with those big, pretty eyes and that easy little smile.

He had you.

And Chishiya knew it, too.

From where he leaned against the counter, still sipping from his mug, still watching. Observing. Taking in the subtle shifts, the way you held yourself, the way you carried yourself now.

You were glowing.

Not just from the morning light filtering through the window, not just from the warmth of the kitchen—but from yourself.

From the way you felt in your own skin, from the way you moved now.

Sexy wasn’t just about looks, wasn’t just about the way you dressed or did your hair or wore your perfume. Sexy was mindset. It was energy.

You knew how good you looked, knew how sweet you smelled, knew how you had both of them wrapped around your pretty little finger without even trying.

It was in the way you carried yourself, in the way you let them look at you.

And that was something Chishiya noticed. Because it wasn’t just that you looked good—it was that you knew you did.

“Something’s different about you today.” Niragi mused, eyes sharp, raking over you like he could pick you apart and figure out exactly what had changed.

You just tilted your head slightly, all teasing, playful. “Is it?”

Chishiya snorted softly at that, hiding a smirk behind his mug.

Because, oh yeah. Something was definitely different.

And they both knew exactly what it was.

It wasn’t just that you were feeling better.

It was that you were feeling closer to them.

More attached.

And wasn’t that exactly what they wanted?

What they had worked for?

Niragi leaned in a little closer, hands slipping into his pockets, voice dropping just slightly. “You got a little confidence back, huh, baby?”

You just smiled, small, warm, completely unaffected. “Maybe.”

And fuck, that was good.

That was so good.

Because that meant it was working. What they had done to you, what they had given you—it worked.

They were there when you needed them. When you were at your lowest, when you were breaking, they were there.

And now that you were putting yourself back together?

You were putting them in the pieces, too.

It wasn’t even something you realized. Wasn’t something you thought about. It just happened. They were there, and now you wanted them to be there.

And they wanted to be there, too.

Niragi stretched, arms above his head, rolling his shoulders back. He gave you one last once-over before turning away, casual.

“Wake me up when it’s done.” he muttered, already walking off, hands slipping into the pockets of his pants, heading back toward his room without a care in the world.

Like he hadn’t just been sizing you up, drinking you in, taking note of the way you stood, the way you spoke, the way you felt now.

And then it was just you and Chishiya. The kitchen felt quieter now. Not tense, not uncomfortable, just… different. He hadn’t moved much, still leaning against the counter, mug loose in his fingers. But his eyes hadn’t left you.

And they weren’t leaving now.

You glanced at him briefly before turning back to what you were doing, flipping something in the pan, focused. But you felt him watching you.

“Are you going to ask, or just stare at me all morning?” you asked lightly, not looking up.

There was a small pause, just a second or two of silence.

“What was that banging on your door in the middle of the night?”

“It was Niragi.”

“Coming to scream at you some more?” he asked dryly, tilting his head slightly, like he was already predicting the answer.

You smiled, shaking your head, flipping something else on the stove, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“No.” you said, still soft, light. “He apologized.”

“And you forgave him.” It wasn’t a question.

You shrugged a little, stirring something, keeping your hands busy.

“I mean… yeah.” you said, as if it was obvious, as if it wasn’t even something to question.

Chishiya hummed, and you knew he was thinking. Picking this apart.

Because you had forgiven Niragi. Without even really thinking about it.

Because he had come back.

Because he had come crawling.

Because he had stood there at your door, talking, apologizing, actually trying, in his own messy, chaotic, Niragi way.

You had been spoiled. Had been taken care of all your life. Had been surrounded by love. But even in a perfect world, even with perfect parents, perfect family—people still messed up.

But love meant forgiveness.

Love meant coming back.

And Niragi had.

So you forgave him. Without a second thought.

Chishiya knew that about you now. Knew you were easy to forgive, easy to accept, easy to let things go as long as someone wanted to be better.

And Niragi had figured it out, too.

Even if he didn’t deserve it, you still gave it.

“You’re too nice to him.”

And you just smiled softly, shaking your head a little. “You’ll always say that.” you murmured.

And Chishiya didn’t argue. Because you weren’t wrong. Because it will be always the truth. But he also knew you weren’t going to change.

And that? That was exactly why you were perfect for this.

Now you were two seconds away from tearing the entire fucking place apart.

It wasn’t even about one thing. It was everything. The way the furniture wasn’t where you wanted it to be. The way the fucking blanket on the couch wouldn’t fold right. The way your favorite book had been moved—not lost, just not where you had put it. The way the light in the living room was too bright, too yellow, not as dim as it’s supposed to be. The way you were too short to reach the shelf where Niragi had put something, even when you stretched up on your toes, even when you jumped.

It was stupid. It was ridiculous.

But you were furious.

And then, of course, Niragi had to come out, because god forbid you make too much noise without him getting involved.

“You good over there, baby?”

You huffed, still stretching, fingertips barely grazing the edge of what you wanted to grab. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

Which was unfair. But everything was setting you off.

Niragi, naturally, noticed.

And loved it.

Because you never snapped at him. Because even when you were upset, even when you were mad, you were still sweet, still soft, still you. But this? This was new.

He let out a low chuckle, pushing off the doorframe, walking over.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” he teased, reaching up easily—so easily—grabbing what you were struggling to get, dangling it just above your head, just out of reach.

You glared at him. “Give it.”

He grinned. “What, this?” He held it higher. “This thing you’ve been jumping around like a fucking squirrel for?”

Your jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at your sides, because he wasn’t taking you seriously.

At all.

And that only made you more pissed off.

“Yes.” you bit out. “Give it to me.”

Niragi’s smirk widened, because, fuck, this was fun. He was used to you looking at him with warmth, with patience, even when he was being an ass.

He was not used to you looking at him like you wanted to rip him apart.

And he liked it.

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Say please.”

That almost made you throw something at his fucking face.

“Niragi—”

But before you could lunge at him—and you were about to lunge at him—Chishiya’s voice cut through the room.

“I’d give it to her before she actually kills you.”

Both you and Niragi turned.

There he was, standing in the entrance of the hallway, arms crossed, looking between the two of you like this was nothing but mildly entertaining.

Niragi clicked his tongue, but relented, finally dropping the item into your waiting hands.

“There.” he said, grinning as he watched you snatch it away, clutching it tightly like a prize. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You glared at him again, but you didn’t say anything, just turned on your heel and went back to what you were doing, your mood still terrible, still storming.

Chishiya watched as Niragi plopped down onto the couch, stretching out, entirely too pleased with himself. Then he looked back at you, gaze scanning over your tense shoulders, the tightness in your jaw. With a small sigh, he walked over and sat down, too.

You were going to explode.

You were already this close to losing it, already wound so tight you could snap at anything, and these two? These two assholes? They were having the time of their fucking lives.

“What is your problem?” you snapped, turning around so fast your hair whipped over your shoulder, eyes flashing, arms crossed so tightly over your chest it was a miracle you could still breathe.

Niragi was sprawled on the couch like he had nothing better to do, stretching his arms out over the backrest, one knee propped up, watching you with that fucking grin. Chishiya, on the other hand, was sitting more properly, at least him.

But it was worse. Because Niragi liked pissing you off. Chishiya was just observing. Like this was a science experiment, and you were some wild animal on the verge of a meltdown.

And neither of them cared.

“I don’t have a problem.” Niragi drawled, tilting his head. “You’re the one stomping around the house like a pissed-off little gremlin.”

You inhaled sharply.

That was not what you wanted to hear.

“I’m not stomping.” you snapped.

“You are.” Chishiya said, finally speaking up, voice flat, unaffected. “You have been for the past ten minutes.”

Your eye twitched.

“You guys are so fucking—” You cut yourself off, exhaling, trying to calm yourself down, pressing your fingers to your temples. “Oh my god.”

You could feel Niragi’s grin widen.

“What’s the deal, huh?” he asked, stretching his legs out, watching you struggle like this was the best show he had seen all week. “You on your period or something?”

You grabbed the nearest thing—a cushion—and threw it at his face.

Hard.

Really hard.

Hard enough that it actually hit him, smacking against his cheek before falling onto his lap.

For a second, there was silence.

Then Niragi burst into laughter.

Chishiya just sighed, rubbing his temple, like this was too exhausting for him to be a part of.

And you? You just stood there, fuming. “You are just insufferable—”

“See?” Niragi cut in, grinning. “That’s exactly what someone on their period would say.”

You let out an actual growl of frustration.

You wanted to hit him again. You needed to hit him again. But he was too fast. He jumped up from the couch before you could grab anything else, laughing, dodging around the coffee table, stepping just out of your reach as you swung at him.

You lunged—he stepped back.

You grabbed another cushion—he ducked.

“Stay still, you little shit!”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” He was still laughing. “You’re so mad. Look at you—puffing your cheeks like a little chihuahua—”

“I hate you—”

“No, you don’t.”

And that? That was the worst part. Because you didn’t. Because no matter how much you wanted to be angry, to stay mad, to keep up this storm of irritation brewing inside of you—they were hilarious.

And they knew it.

Because Niragi wasn’t even running from you anymore. He was just circling the coffee table, grinning, arms up in a mock surrender, staying just far enough away so you couldn’t reach him.

Chishiya was just watching.

You huffed.

This was stupid. This was so stupid. You should have ignored them. You should have kept moving your stuff around, kept sulking, kept doing whatever you wanted to do without their dumbass interference—

But you were already smiling.

Just a little.

That was exactly what they wanted.

“I’m going out.” you announced, pushing away from the table, brushing imaginary dust off your clothes. “Leave me alone.”

You barely made it a step toward the door before Niragi let out a gasp. “What?” He pressed a hand to his chest like you’d just shot him. “You’re leaving? Just like that? Not even a goodbye kiss?”

You turned so fast.

“Are you—” You inhaled sharply, pressing your fingers to your temple. “You are so fucking annoying—”

“You love it.” he shot back immediately, rocking back on his heels like he was thriving off your frustration.

You threw up your hands. “Oh my god, you can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?”

His grin widened.

“You always have to be talking.” you continued, pointing at him, taking a step back. “And you can’t even keep your tongue in your mouth for five seconds.”

He flicked it out immediately, proving your point.

You groaned.

“See?” You gestured at him wildly. “That’s what I’m talking about! You’re so predictable! I knew you were going to do that.”

“Yeah?” Niragi cocked his head. “And you? What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You do this thing.” he started, grinning now, motioning in your direction.

You squinted. “What thing?”

“This thing.” he repeated, stepping forward, moving his hands like he was trying to physically shape the idea. “When you’re mad, you get all—huffy. Like, so huffy.”

“I do not—”

“And your nose scrunches up.” he continued, completely ignoring you, watching your face. “And you make this little noise—”

“I do not—”

“You just did it.” he grinned.

“I—” You paused, blinking. Did you?

No. No, you weren’t going to let him get in your head.

“You’re insufferable.” you muttered, stepping back, reaching for the doorknob.

“I know.” he practically purred, looking so pleased with himself.

You groaned again, swinging the door open. “Asshole.”

“Bitch.” he called after you, voice teasing, following you to the doorway like he was going to make sure you left.

You took one more deep breath, then stepped outside, slamming the door behind you before he could throw another comment at you.

Silence.

For maybe two seconds.

“Come back soon, sweetheart!”

You actually laughed as you walked away.

Fucking Niragi.

The house was quiet when you returned. Unusually quiet.

You stood in the doorway for a moment, adjusting to the silence, shifting the weight of the bag in your hands. No sign of them. Your eyes trailed across the living room, locking onto the objects you had thrown earlier. They were… back in place.

Your brows furrowed slightly. You hadn’t expected them to clean up after you. If anything, you had expected Niragi to leave them scattered just to piss you off more.

Huh.

Pushing the thought aside, you moved toward the kitchen, rolling your shoulders. You had filled your time outside productively, collecting what you could. Now, your hands were full, the bags stretching between your fingers as you set them onto the counter. You moved around, unpacking, putting things away.

You didn’t even realize how much you’d adjusted until this moment—until you caught yourself thinking about them.

Chishiya would notice it immediately. He was always quietly aware of these things. Niragi would take advantage of it, pretending like it had nothing to do with you, but he’d still grab something first thing in the morning like it was just conveniently there.

You sighed, closing the last cabinet. Your feet led you before your mind even fully decided, taking you down the hall, stopping at Chishiya’s door.

You knocked—lightly, politely. When no answer, you pushed the door open gently, peeking inside.

Chishiya was in his usual spot, sitting, leaning slightly back like he had been there for hours. He didn’t look surprised to see you. He rarely ever did. His gaze flickered to you, then back to whatever he had been thinking about before.

You stepped inside hesitantly, lingering by the door. “Do you want something?”

Chishiya’s eyes slid back to you, observing, assessing. And then, after a brief moment—“No.”

You nodded, not at all put off by the blunt response. “Okay.”

You lingered for a second longer before stepping back, moving to leave.

But before you could fully turn away—

“You stocked the kitchen.”

A statement, not a question.

You glanced at him, nodding. “Yeah.” You pulled Chishiya’s door shut gently behind you, letting the quiet click settle in the hallway.

Then, without much thought, you turned and made your way to Niragi’s room.

You knocked.

Silence.

Again.

Nothing.

You tested the doorknob, turning it, letting the door creak open just a bit. The room was dark. Empty. No sign of him.

But what caught your eye wasn’t that.

It was the mess.

More specifically—your mess.

Your shirt—your shirt—draped over the edge of his bed like it had been carelessly thrown there. A pair of leggings pooled near the floor by his dresser. A hoodie—yours—half-folded, half-crumpled by his chair.

Your stomach twisted in a way you couldn’t quite place.

His bathroom door was open, the light off, but even from here, you could see something of yours in there, too. A hair tie on the sink. A towel you’d used before, hung over the shower like it belonged there.

Like you belonged there.

You swallowed, stepping back.

Not home.

Okay.

You didn’t think too hard about it. Not now. Instead, you walked back to your room, closing the door behind you. The air in here felt different. Yours. Safe.

A shower. That’s what you needed.

You peeled off your clothes slowly, tossing them into the hamper. The moment you stepped under the water, the heat soothed your muscles, melting into your skin.

Your mind should’ve been blank. But instead, it drifted.

Niragi, your clothes. Not even wearing them, just… having them. Chishiya, watching you, just the thought itself.

You’d been thinking about them too much. Maybe this was just normal now. The thought didn’t scare you as much as it should.

The guy. The one you killed.

Oh, him.

Yeah, that was a fun thought.

Your stomach twisted in that sick, awful way, and suddenly the water didn’t feel so nice anymore.

God. Why did you do that? Like, actually, why? Okay, sure. You knew why. But—

Ugh.

Your fingers pressed against your temples, dragging down your face. You killed someone. Like, actually ended a whole-ass life. Snuffed him out like a candle.

And what made it worse? You couldn’t even remember his face properly.

Was that bad? That was bad, right?

You had one job. One job. If you were going to be traumatized about this, you could at least remember the guy.

But no.

Great.

All you got was flashes. A body. A noise. Blood. The blood part? Vivid. Oh, yeah, no problem remembering that part.

God, why was your brain like this?

You let your head thud against the shower wall.

You were fine. You were fine.

It happened. It passed.

Right?

…Right?

The worst part? The part that made your stomach lurch in this guilty, sick, wrong way? It wasn’t even that you killed him. It was that, when you really thought about it—when you really let your mind wander—you weren’t sure if you’d even care if you remembered his face.

Fuck.

You needed to get out of this shower.

But the heat was too nice, seeping into your skin, melting into your muscles, keeping you there, as if it could wash away the thoughts clawing at the back of your skull.

Except, it didn’t.

Your thoughts were stubborn little things, and they stuck to you like wet clothes, clinging even as you tried to shake them off.

First, there was him. The dead guy. The one you killed. But then, as if your mind needed a break from that particularly awful line of thinking, it veered sharply into another direction—

Your clothes.

In Niragi’s room.

Oh.

That was. Interesting.

Because, sure, you’d known for a while that he wore your things sometimes—your oversized sweaters, things that smelled like you—and yeah, it was weird, but it was Niragi.

Weird was kind of his whole thing.

But leggings?

Leggings?

What the fuck did he need leggings for?

Your stomach twisted in this awful, humiliating, almost thrilling way. You had thoughts. And they were bad. Very, very bad.

Y/N, stop.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead against the tile.

This was so not the time to be thinking about Niragi jerking off.

Like, literally, at all. But the thought wouldn’t leave you alone. It just sat there, smug and taunting, until your brain did the worst thing it could possibly do—

You could see it. Could see him, sprawled out in that stupidly comfortable chair in his room, your leggings clutched in his fists, his head tipped back, mouth slack, breathing ragged—

STOP.

You actually let out a strangled noise, face burning hotter than the water, and you hated it.

Hated that you were thinking about this. Hated that you could picture it so well. Hated that, deep down, buried under layers of shame, under all the embarrassment and why are you like this—you didn��t even mind it. And wasn’t that just the worst fucking part?

You were done. Done with this shower, done with your thoughts, done with everything.

You sighed, eyes fluttering open, staring at nothing in particular before finally—finally—shutting the water off. The loss of warmth made you shiver, goosebumps prickling across your arms as you reached for a towel.

Okay. Okay.

You were fine.

Ignoring your reflection—because not dealing with that right now—you padded across the bathroom, wrapped up all nice in your towel, steam rolling past your ankles as you stepped into your room.

The air was cool against your damp skin, sending another shiver up your spine as you rubbed the towel over your arms.

Your bed looked so inviting. Fluffy blankets, pillows stacked just how you liked them.

You needed to get dressed first. So, reluctantly, you made your way to your dresser. You slipped the clothes on slowly, still warm from the shower, still thinking too much.

You hated when your brain did this. When it latched onto something and wouldn’t let go. You weren’t even thinking about him anymore. Not really. You were just thinking. About everything. And it was exhausting. So, you did the only thing you could do.

You threw yourself into bed.

Face first.

Let out a breath.

Tried to clear your mind.

…Hm.

Okay.

Knock, knock, knock.

You groaned into your pillow, eyes squeezing shut again.

Who the fuck—

The door.

It was your door.

Your brain was still in that half-asleep, half-awake place, limbs heavy, body sluggish as you barely lifted your head.

Another knock. A little firmer this time.

“Hey.” Niragi’s voice was muffled through the door. “Get up.”

You sighed, rolling onto your side, still unwilling to fully open your eyes.

No.

You weren’t ready for him.

Another knock. “Y/N.”

Fine. Fine.

You sat up with another sigh, stretching as you dragged yourself to the door, switching the light switch on as you did.

The second you pulled it open, you blinked.

Because Niragi was standing there.

Holding flowers.

Some wildflowers, a few random ones that looked like he had just grabbed whatever he thought looked nice, some with dirt still clinging to the roots, all bunched together in his fist, a little crumpled, a little messy—

Your sleepy brain short-circuited for a second.

And Niragi, standing there, stared at you expectantly. Like he wasn’t holding fucking flowers at your doorstep.

You stared at them.

Then at him.

Then at them again.

And when you didn’t say anything, Niragi rolled his eyes, shoving them forward.

“Take ‘em.”

You blinked again, slowly lifting your hands to take them from him. They were warm. Had he been holding them this whole time?

Still staring, still processing, you glanced back up at him. “…You picked these?”

Niragi scoffed. “Yeah, no shit. You like flowers, don’t you?”

You did.

“But why?”

He rolled his eyes again. “Because.”

“…Because what?”

“Because—” He scowled, looking away for half a second, before sighing. “Because you were pissy earlier, and I don’t wanna hear you bitch about it all day, alright?”

You blinked again. Then—against your will—your lips twitched. Because that was so Niragi. Even when he was being nice, he had to be an asshole about it. Still, your fingers curled around the stems, brushing over the petals as you finally let yourself smile.

“…Thank you.”

Niragi just tched, looking anywhere but at you, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, whatever. Just don’t go all emotional on me about it, yeah?”

A little beaten up, a little wild, but—they were yours.

And Niragi picked them for you.

…Huh.

He was still standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, eyes flicking anywhere but at you. A little tense, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself now. Like he had just realized what he’d done—bringing you flowers like some lovesick idiot—and now he didn’t know how to play it off.

And you—you—with your little crumpled bouquet in your hands, with your sleepy voice and warm skin and that soft, soft smile—you just tilted your head at him.

Then, without a word, you lifted up on your tippy toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Niragi fucking froze.

It was instant—his entire body going stiff, his breath catching in his throat, his fingers curling into fists in his pockets, like he physically stopped functioning for a moment.

And you? Completely unaware. Because you were already stepping back, already smiling at him, already clutching the flowers like some sweet little angel as you murmured “Good night, Niragi.”

Click.

The door shut.

Just like that.

Like you didn’t just press your soft little lips against his fucking cheek like it was nothing.

Niragi was still standing there. Blinking. Processing. Hand twitching at his side, itching to reach up, to touch where you’d—he exhaled, jaw clenching, rolling his shoulders back before turning around.

Fine.

He could deal with this later. For now, he needed a fucking cigarette.

(If evil why so bbg!!)

The next day, you moved around the apartment like a little bird, flitting from one thing to another, chattering sweetly as you went.

“You both leave your mugs everywhere.” you sighed, picking up a half-empty cup from the coffee table. “One of these days, I’m gonna stop cleaning up after you. You’ll just wake up surrounded by your own mess.”

Chishiya just hummed in response from his place on the couch, watching you with that cat-like expression.

Niragi stretched out, lazy and unbothered, arms draped over the back of the couch as he snorted. “Yeah, right. You like cleaning up after us.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “I don’t.”

“You do.” he insisted, smirking. “You like taking care of people. You’re like a little housewife.”

You scoffed, but your cheeks warmed. “I’m not—”

“Where’s my breakfast, then?” Niragi teased, tilting his head. “What kind of housewife doesn’t have breakfast ready for her man?”

You threw the dish towel you were holding straight at his face.

Chishiya let out a soft little huff.

And you—god, you were just radiant. There was something so sweet about you like this. Still soft, still warm, still delicate—but now bright, now talkative, now glowing.

And they noticed. They definitely noticed. Because this—this—was exactly what they wanted.

This was why they did what they did.

They broke you, and now, look at you. Smiling. Happy. Clinging to them like they were your fucking saviors.

Chishiya, watching you with his knowing eyes, tilted his head slightly.

Perfect.

You had no idea.

No idea how narcissistic he truly was. How he liked being needed. How he liked being the one you turned to. How he liked knowing that he had successfully rewired you, whether you realized it or not.

Because now, you weren’t just surviving. Now, you were surviving with them. You weren’t pulling away anymore. You weren’t shutting down, weren’t drowning in guilt, weren’t resisting their hold.

You were falling.

Falling right into their arms.

And they were so fucking selfish, both of them. Because they were keeping you there. Because they wanted you there. Because they needed you there.

Niragi, sprawled across the couch, let his dark eyes flick over you as he watched you move.

Like this, you were even prettier.

Like this, you weren’t just their little doll—you were their sunshine.

“You’re getting cocky.” you said, flicking a glance at Niragi as you continued tidying up.

“Getting cocky?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Babe, I was born this way.”

You snorted. “Born an asshole, then?”

“Born perfect.” he replied smoothly, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up slightly, flashing a sliver of his stomach. A move that was so intentional, so practiced, that it should’ve been nothing.

Just another game. Just another way to get under your skin.

Flirting was second nature to him. He knew how to use his mouth, his face, his lean body like a weapon. He didn’t have to try—it was just who he was.

It never meant anything.

But now something felt… different.

He’d sleep with you in a heartbeat, no fucking doubt about that. Hell, he’d make you cry on his cock just for fun if you let him. He was still Niragi, still a twisted fuck, still selfish to his core.

But—

Ugh.

Something about this whole thing was weird.

Because normally, he wouldn’t give a fuck what happened after.

He’d take what he wanted and move the fuck on.

But with you, the thought of after was… sticking. Like an annoying little itch in the back of his brain.

Because what if he did get you in his bed? What if he did make you fall apart under him?

Would you still look at him like this in the morning? Would you still smile at him, call him cute names, get on your little tippy toes to kiss his cheek? Would you still make him breakfast? Would you still—

He stopped himself there.

No.

That wasn’t how he thought. That wasn’t how he worked.

He wasn’t some loser fuck. He wasn’t some lover boy.

He just liked playing with his food before he ate it.

That was all.

And yet—hr shifted slightly, eyes flicking toward Chishiya, who was still watching you with that knowing stare.

Fucker.

Chishiya had already figured out that something was off. Of course he had. Because Chishiya noticed everything. He was watching you like he was actually invested.

Which was… different.

Because he wasn’t supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to care. Not that he’d ever admit it, not that he’d ever let it show—but Niragi wasn’t fucking stupid.

Chishiya had his own thoughts, his own little attachment issues that he was clearly keeping quiet about.

Because as much as Niragi liked playing with his food before he ate it—Chishiya didn’t eat at all. He collected. He kept.

And you—you were starting to look an awful lot like something Chishiya wanted to keep.

Niragi pulled a cigarette from his pocket, tapping it against his wrist, when you plucked it from his fingers.

“Hey—” His head snapped to you.

You turned the cigarette in your hand, studying it like it was some kind of puzzle. Then, casually, you brought it up and snapped it in half between your fingers.“That shit’s unhealthy.”

“Are you my mother now?” he teased, watching as you tossed the broken cigarette onto the coffee table like you made the rules.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you need one?”

Chishiya huffed a quiet laugh from his place on the couch, his arms still crossed as he leaned back. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Niragi, on the other hand, tilted his head, watching you with narrowed eyes. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, gaze dragging lazily over your face.

“Not really my kink.” he mused. “But, you know, I wouldn’t mind you bossing me around in a different setting—”

Your hand shot out, pressing over his mouth before he could finish that thought.

“Enough.”

His lips parted under your palm, his sharp teeth flashing in something that could’ve been a grin or a bite. You yanked your hand back before you could find out.

He laughed. “Pussy.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t rise to the bait, already turning your attention elsewhere. Your hand found Chishiya’s head instead, fingers slipping into his soft, ridiculously fluffy hair as you absently smoothed it down.

His eyes lifted to you, something unreadable flickering across them as he allowed the touch without protest.

“At least you don’t have disgusting habits.” you murmured, your thumb brushing against the side of his head as if to soothe him instead of yourself.

Chishiya didn’t respond, didn’t even move. But his gaze lingered on you—assessing, observing, collecting little bits of you like they were his to keep.

Because of course he did. Because of course he’d just sit there, letting you stroke his hair like some cat, letting himself pretend—

What, exactly? That he liked it? That he wanted it? That it meant something? That he was capable of feeling anything at all?

“Look at you.” Niragi said, smirking. “So motherly today.”

You flicked your gaze back to him, unimpressed.

“You wish I was your mom, don’t you?” you said dryly. “Explains why you always act out for attention.”

Niragi let out a loud, mocked gasp. “Damn, baby.” he drawled. “Are you tryna fix me now?”

You sighed dramatically. “No, Niragi. You are far beyond saving.”

“Aw.” He grinned, leaning in slightl. “Good. I’d hate to lose all this.”

You shot him a look before your fingers gave one last, gentle sweep through Chishiya’s hair, then finally withdrew your hands from it.

Chishiya let out a small exhale, but nothing changed in his expression. If anything, he looked bored.

Like you hadn’t just been stroking his hair like you cared for him. Like it hadn’t even registered.

Niragi watched the whole exchange with a look—like a fucking sassy one(for an example, the clip of him in the background when Ann is talking, first season eighth episode I think?? Not sure don’t listen to me)—before shaking his head with a scoff.

“Anyway.” he muttered, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “Back to more important matters—someone owes me a cigarette.”

You didn’t even glance at him as you grabbed another cigarette from his pocket, crushed it in your palm, then dropped it onto the table with the first one.

Then, without a word, you stood and left the room.

Niragi stared.

Chishiya chuckled.

You reappeared barely a minute later, a hoodie in your hand. Without a word, you tossed it straight at Niragi, hitting him square in the face.

“The fuck?” He yanked it off his head, glaring at you.

“You can smoke,” you said sweetly. “outside.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Not kicking you out.” you corrected, tilting your head. “Just strongly encouraging fresh air. You know, for your lungs.”

Niragi scoffed, tossing the hoodie over one shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

You smiled. “Yeah? So will I. With the windows closed.”

At that, he laughed, resting his elbow on the couch as he gave you a look.

“You do realize,” he said. “that this apartment has massive fucking windows, right?”

You waved a hand. “That’s not the same.”

He smirked. “It’s exactly the same.”

“Niragi.” you said patiently. “Go outside.”

He sighed, dramatically standing up, pulling on the hoodie. “Man, you’re no fun.”

You smiled sweetly. “I just love you too much to let you ruin your pretty lungs.”

He only chuckled, heading for the door, but not before turning back and sticking his pierced tongue out at you before he left.

Then you turned, only to find Chishiya watching you.

“What?”

Chishiya’s lips curled at the corners, just slightly. “Nothing.” he said. And yet, he kept looking.

You hummed as you continued to move around the apartment, picking things up and setting them back down in different places, even if they didn’t necessarily need to be moved. It was just something to do, something to keep your hands busy.

“You like taking care of him.” he said casually.

You blinked, glancing over. “Who?”

Chishiya just looked at you.

You exhaled a small laugh. “Oh. Niragi.”

He tilted his head, noncommittal.

You smiled faintly, fixing a little decorative bowl on the table. “Well… someone has to.”

Chishiya huffed a soft breath through his nose, like he found that funny. “Not really.”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “What?”

“You don’t have to take care of him.” he said simply. “He’s survived just fine without you.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, shrugging lightly. “now he has me.”

Chishiya’s lips curled at the corners, but it wasn’t exactly a smile. “And what does he do for you?”

Your brows pulled together slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Chishiya said, leaning back against the couch. “you’re always so good to him. You check on him, make him food, worry about him. But what does he do for you?”

You opened your mouth. Then hesitated.

“I mean, he’s—” You faltered. “He’s nice to me.”

Chishiya’s expression didn’t change.

“Sometimes.” you added quietly.

He tilted his head. “So you like him because he’s sometimes nice?”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “That’s not—”

Chishiya hummed. “You have low standards.”

You gasped a laugh, staring at him. “Excuse me?”

He just shrugged, like it was fact.

“Chishiya,” you said, exasperated. “he’s my friend.”

“Sure.” Chishiya murmured. “If you can call that a friendship.”

You sighed, dropping onto the couch beside him. “What’s your problem?”

Chishiya exhaled a small breath, tipping his head back against the cushion. “No problem.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t like him.” you pointed out.

Chishiya’s lips twitched. “That’s not a secret.”

You huffed. “You don’t have to like each other.”

“Good.” he said lightly. “Because I don’t.”

You rolled your eyes.

Chishiya shifted slightly, watching you again. “Just seems unfair.”

You frowned. “What does?”

Chishiya lifted a shoulder. “You give so much.” he murmured, gaze flickering over your face, like he was searching for something. “What does he give you?”

You hesitated.

“He apologizes.” you said finally.

Chishiya huffed a quiet breath, like that only proved his point.

“And I like talking to him.” you added, almost defensive now.

Chishiya studied you for a moment. He was an observer. He had always been. It was easy to sit back, watch people, study them, and learn how to manipulate them without ever having to lift a finger. People were simple. Predictable. They wanted comfort, validation, love—all things he had no real interest in, except when it suited him. He didn’t care to be loved, nor did he particularly need anyone, but he did enjoy being chosen.

That was why you fascinated him. You were soft, emotional, easy to read—and yet, you had a way of making people want to take care of you, even if they didn’t deserve you. It wasn’t just Niragi. Chishiya had seen it from the moment he met you. The way you tilted your head when you listened, the way you smiled when you spoke, the way you looked at someone like they were important. It was a power all on its own, one you didn’t even seem aware of.

And Niragi? Of course he latched onto you.

Chishiya had seen it coming from a mile away.

What bothered him was that you let him. That you let Niragi hover close, let him spew his manipulative little games, let him turn soft just to reel you back in. Chishiya recognized the behavior well—he did it himself. The only difference was, he wasn’t sloppy about it. Niragi was obvious. Desperate. Chishiya preferred patience.

And that was why he was winning.

Because despite everything, despite how much you liked Niragi, it was Chishiya you sat next to. It was Chishiya you told things to, the one you confided in.

The one you came to.

He knew how to make people rely on him.

It was easy.

And he was so fucking good at it.

“Good thing I’m a better conversationalist.” he murmured.

You narrowed your eyes at him, playful. “That’s debatable.”

He huffed a quiet chuckle, amused. “Is it?”

You sighed sharply, shaking your head, but you were smiling.

He noticed the way you did that now. Smiled more. Looked happier. The cracks were still there, deep beneath the surface, but you weren’t breaking anymore.

He and Niragi had made sure of that.

And now, they got to keep you.

You heard Niragi before you saw him—his footsteps were always loud, like he wanted people to know he was there. It was the exact opposite of Chishiya, who moved like a shadow. Niragi, though, was presence.

“Miss me?” he drawled, stepping back into the apartment.

You looked up from where you were sitting on the couch next to Chishiya, watching as Niragi shook off the hoodie you gave him. His hair was a little damp at the ends, strands sticking to his forehead from the humidity outside.

“Not really.” you hummed, tilting your head with a teasing smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Liar.”

You shrugged, standing up and stepping closer, glancing at the cigarette still tucked between his fingers. “Did you at least enjoy your little smoke break?”

“Not really.” he mimicked you, grinning.

You reached out without thinking, plucking the cigarette from his hand and snuffing it out in the nearby ashtray—what you only had for decoration until now. “Then I guess we both missed out on something.”

He watched you, the piercing on his tongue swiping across his lip. “Yeah? And what did you miss out on?”

You ignored him, just rolled your eyes at him before heading toward the kitchen.

“Want anything?” you asked over your shoulder.

Niragi let his gaze linger on you for a moment before shaking his head. “Later.”

You nodded and moved to grab a glass of water for yourself, ignoring the feeling of Chishiya’s gaze burning into the back of your head. He had been watching—he always watched, but something about the way he was looking now felt different.

When you turned around, Niragi was already making his way toward his room.

And then, it was just you and Chishiya again.

You sighed, flopping back onto the couch beside him, sipping your water. He didn’t say anything right away, just observed you, as he always did.

“You’re easy to please.” he said.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He gestured lazily toward the hallway where Niragi had disappeared. “He walks in with a few flowers and suddenly, all is forgiven.”

You frowned, tilting your head. “I don’t think I was mad at him.”

“That’s not the point.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then what is?”

He gave you a slow, knowing smile. “You.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but of course—he didn’t. That was just how Chishiya worked. He never explained anything, he just said things that made you think, things that lingered in your head long after the conversation was over.

And this time, you weren’t sure you wanted to think about it. So, instead, you just huffed, looking away. “You don’t bring me flowers.”

“You don’t need them from me.”

And for some reason, that made your stomach flip. Chishiya always said things like that—things that meant nothing and everything at the same time. And maybe, deep down, you knew what he was doing. The way he talked, the way he looked at you, the way he made sure you knew he was different from Niragi.

It was all intentional.

Because at the end of the day, Chishiya didn’t fight for things—he just made sure they came to him.

And you were already falling right into place.

(Y’all I know there’s a lot more Niragi interactions compared to Chishiya and it’s on purpose. I’m not picking favorites, it will add up I promise. I have shit planned.)

❤︎︎ @lizntstoptalking @cherryheairt @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @mocchii-writes @adanfore @scarlet703 @fluentgoddess @maxinehufflepuffprincess @onyxmango @bluerthanvelvet444 @risingofjupiter @enhasrii

#alice in borderland #aib chishiya #aib niragi #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #niragi suguru #niragi x reader #niragi alice in borderland

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gallifreyan85 · 2 months ago

Text

Scare me up (a little bit of love)

pairing: Agatha x reader

summary: this is the bring your mentor back from the dead mother's day fic you never knew you needed

Next part (and last) here

A/n at the end of fic.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

When you reached Westview it was early morning. The sun had just come out, and by the time you stepped off the bus and made your way into town, walking alone by the lonely winding road, eyes squinting from the sunlight peeking through the trees, you felt a familiar tug in your bones. The old sign at the edge of town was still there, big, white, faded letters against a scraped teal background, and you passed it in a hurry, quickening your steps in hopes of reaching your destination faster. Though once you did, you didn’t go in at once.

You stood in front of her house, taking in the view. The front door was missing, askew on its hinges and crammed sideways across the doorway, a steady reminder of what happened before you, your mentor, and her so called makeshift coven decided to walk the Witches Road. It was an eventful day, so unlike the one you were having now. You took a step off the cement driveway and opened the latch on the white wooden fence. It didn’t creak, but the paint was stale, and you had to lean against it with your full body to make the hinges budge. The grass was soft beneath your sneakers, a little slippery from the early morning dew. You quietly made your way towards the entrance, and then, with a final, shaky breath of determination, ducked underneath the skewed front door and slipped inside.

The house was silent. Old wooden tiles groaned as you stepped into the hallway, then the living room. It wasn’t very messy, but the air was thick and stale and you went to open the nearest window. All the curtains were drawn, leaving the rooms shrouded in half darkness, streaks of light zig-zagging across the dark television screen, an old bookshelf, the worn patterned couch. You sighed. There was an ache in your lungs from being back here, a house you’d spent so many years in, studying magic and listening to Agatha talk about her chaotic adventures, tease you about everything and then make some witchy herbal tea you always drank with her. You missed it. All of it.

But most of all you missed her.

The Road was a messy adventure, you’d joined her of course, without question, eager to talk with her after the three long years of nothing, and once you made it out--

You wondered if the yard was still strewn with pieces of wreckage from that fight she and Rio had had. You shook you head quickly and set yourself straight. You were here for a reason.

To bring her back.

It took a while, a long, long, long while, but you finally found it. A way, a combination of tricky, long, dreary and demanding spells and enchantments, all ingredients in bringing back a life. Well. Not quite. She was a ghost. All you’d do was get her back into her body, set things straight. Although with her, things rarely seemed to go straight. You sighed, dropped your backpack onto the sofa, and went into the kitchen. After making a black coffee-- you rarely drank it black but there was no milk in the fridge and the cabinets were quite empty, you went into the basement.

Señor Scratchy came hopping into the light from some dim corner, his little nose twitching in recognition. You bent down to pet him, running your fingers through his soft fur. You’d missed him too. You were relieved that he was alright, because after you’d stormed off and left Agatha and Billy to their adventures you wondered for a while if someone had come in to check on the bunny.

“Are the neighbors feeding you well, buddy?” you murmured into the quiet stillness of the room.

He stayed under your hand, whiskers moving curiously, and then pressed his nose against your mug. You realized then that you’d taken one of hers. You hadn’t even noticed.

“I know buddy…” you said softly, “I miss her too.”

You stayed there on the floor, crouched down with him and petting him until your coffee went cold, and then pressed a kiss to his furry head and stood back up again.

You set your mug on her desk, dark mahogany from whatever old century she got it from, and started to go through your books. You opened every needed page, got all the ingredients, luckily her basement still had some herbs and gems stashed away in glass jars, and it took you over fifteen minutes to locate the candles stashed in a wooden crate above the washer and dryer-- you really missed all the enchanted and creepy vibes of the room. It looked so bland like this. Like a normal suburban basement, even though you knew it was everything but. You missed the magic. How many tireless evenings you’d spent in that same room, whining that you couldn’t do the spells, that it was too hard, and Agatha teasing you and sighing and explaining everything from the beginning. After everything was ready, you went up into the backyard.

A soft breeze was blowing, making your hair fall into your eyes and mouth, and you tied it back before pulling out the spellbook. You set it down beside you and looked through the garage. You found a shovel. It was heavy, really heavy, but you managed it just fine. Back in the yard, you stood over the right spot, and started to dig.

The ground wasn’t too hard but it was cold, and you had to put all your strength into pushing the dirt away, slowly piling it into a heap by the side. It took a while. Not like in the movies, where the main character digs up a grave in twenty minutes without breaking a sweat. You were exhausted by the end of the first half hour, and went back inside to finish your coffee. Then you went back at it again. Continued digging. You weren’t in a real hurry, it wouldn’t be a huge problem if you did it tomorrow, but you wanted it to be done today. It was important to you. If it worked. And you really, really hoped it would.

When it was finally done, you took one long look-- at her, and sat back, sweaty and aching.

You inhaled. Took a deep, long breath. And said the words.

Clearly, evenly, a steady, perfect spell. Just like you practiced. Just like Agatha was there beside you, watching your movements and giving you corrections.

You finished the first half.

“Agatha?” you asked into the breeze.

Nothing.

Then--

A whizz of movement from behind you, and her spectral form appeared, just the same as last time you’d seen her. It had been a few weeks.

You felt your throat tighten.

“Well, well.” she drawled, a smirk at her translucent lips. “Look who decided to finally summon me. Are you missing our lessons, dear?”

You looked at her. Took a breath. Nodded faintly. She was doing small talk. You didn’t think you had it in you to follow along.

“Good.” she said, “I’m glad to see at least someone was missing me.”

You looked away.

She watched you, still hovering a few feet away, and then sighed.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re still hung up on me being dead. I’m still here, darling, aren’t I? Still here to annoy you.”

You gave a weak smile. It didn’t reach your eyes.

“It’s not the same as being alive.”

“Yes, well we’ve passed that point. I got used to it, and so should you.”

“You’re still dead.” you said, more harshly than you’d have liked.

She waved a hand.

“No-- don’t do that, don’t pretend like—”

She disappeared. Reappeared behind you, said a soft boo into your ear.

You huffed and swatted at her, and your hand went straight through.

She grinned.

“What’s this now? Did I teach you to resort to violence, student mine?”

You gave her a look.

“Please stop teasing me and focus. I called you over for a reason.”

She tilted her head, and looked around. Her smirk faltered when she saw the body on the grass, her own body. She looked back up.

“Dabbling in necromancy now? I thought we agreed to save that for last.”

“Yeah, well I did some of my own research the past few weeks.”

She spoke with exaggerated emotion. “Oh joy. I’m in such good hands now.”

You closed your eyes.

“Agatha.”

“What?”

“I’m being serious.”

“Oh I can see that.” she said, floating over to look at her body. “You’ve been so busy… How long did it even take you to dig me up, hm? Hours? Days? You’re a bit lacking on the practical side of things.”

You wanted to throw something at her. You knew it wouldn’t work but that didn’t stop you from trying. You hit her with a pebble. It went straight through her robes and bounced off the shovel. She chuckled.

“You’re determined, I’ll give you that.”

“Would you just—” you were slowly losing your patience, “Just stop teasing me and listen. Please.”

She sighted deeply, and finally looked back up at you, expression a little more serious.

“Fine. What was so important that you had to—” she waved a hand around.

You knew she knew, but like yourself she wanted you to say it first. Outloud.

“I’m,” you paused, “we’re gonna bring you back.”

She raised a perfect, silvery brow, arms firmly crossed. “Are we now?”

You nodded. Tried to seem reassuring and firm. “Yes.”

She chuckled. “Great then. Let’s get weaving, I want to get this over with so you can have a piece of mind and I can run away before you get all miserable on me like last time.”

She gave you a pointed look. You swallowed. The last time you’d seen her had been quite a mess. Billy was there, and he had the front row seat to witnessing your tearful meltdown over your mentor being dead and not doing anything to fix it. Not even trying. Not once.

As if she simply didn’t... care.

But as much as that thought hurt, you cared. And you were going to show her.

You picked up the spellbook and lowered yourself on the grass a few feet away from her.

“When I finish reading this part you’re supposed to try and get- get back into—”

She let out a gruff chuckle. “You want me to try and possess my own body? Hun, I know you had some ideas that were out there but that is never going to work. There are rules—”

“I know the rules.” you said, firmer, “And I found the right spells, and if we do it correctly it won’t be-- it’ll be okay. Just trust me. Please. Just try.”

She sighed.

“Fine. But if you start crying when I stay all-- un fantasma after you speak your little part I will leave. If you want lessons you got em’ but I ain’t sticking around as your emotional support spirit guide or some other nonsense.”

You swallowed thickly. Pressed your lips together. Half of you felt how this was going to end. You couldn’t keep from crying if it didn’t work, and you knew it probably wouldn’t. But you had to try. You owed it to her, even if she didn’t believe in you.

“Fine.” you said, opening the book.

She watched you, and for a moment it seemed she was going to say something else, but she stayed silent. Just hovered around the yard, watching you, those blue eyes now even more piercing than before.

You inhaled. Exhaled. And started to read.

One part done. Spell. Movement. A charm. Another spell. Then--

You spoke the final bit of written words in a quick but clear ramble, and finally stopped.

You looked up at her. Gave her the go ahead. Nodded.

She did what you asked, begrudgingly floating over to her body and then sinking down, out of your sight until the tips of her glowing robes disappeared beneath the surface of the ground. You watched. No movement. Her chest wasn’t moving. Nothing stirred. Not a single sound came from her, or yourself. A flicker of magic glowed, flickered briefly, and then died out.

You held your breath, felt it stick in your throat.

“A-agatha?” you called out tentatively. Your voice sounded quiet and unsure in the calm of the afternoon. The sun was low in the sky, hiding behind bright clouds. You felt the anticipation and hope from earlier drain from you, slowly replaced with a hanging dread.

Had you--

What if it went wrong? Had you-- what if you accidentally banished her?

It would mean you’d never see her again, ghost or otherwise, at all, not ever. You felt your throat tighten. Tears pricked at your eyes, your vision slowly blurring.

No.

You hadn’t--

You couldn’t have--

“Agatha.” you said again, a bit louder this time. “Agatha, are you there? Please say something.”

Nothing.

“Agatha!” you yelled.

And still not a single sound. Birds were chirping quietly. The white picket fence gate creaked from the front yard. You felt your chest tighten with panic. Fear. Dread. Guilt. So much guilt. Had you ruined it? All of it?

You didn’t bother stifling the sob that slipped past your lips, a sort of half-whimper, half-plea of her name. You started to cry. The grass was cold and damp against your stained knees, your jeans half-covered in dirt and fresh earth, your face a sweaty mess of exhaustion and tears and loneliness.

You felt desperate. Alone.

So alone.

And then--

A loud, wheezing gasp, startling you so harshly that you literally jumped backwards, scooted with a flinch into the shovel behind you that sent you wincing. You blinked and tried to clear your blurry vision.

Agatha’s body was still in front of you, but it wasn’t just her body, she was--

You watched with wide, teary eyes as she sat up, coughing and spluttering and looking very much like she was ready to hex someone for disturbing her in the midst of a very pleasant, relaxing afternoon.

You blinked.

Watched her take a shuddering unsteady breath, then another one, then another. Your hands felt numb. Tingly. Your fingers moved on their own accord, as if to grasp- to reach for--

“A-agatha?” you managed out.

Silence.

Then-

“That was very unpleasant.”

You stared. Tried to keep in the tears.

She opened her mouth to speak, probably some sarcastic, teasing remark-- you scrambled to your feet so fast you nearly slipped and threw yourself at her in the tightest hug ever, clinging to every part of her you could reach, holding on for dear life.

“What in the—” she spluttered, winded, and tried to shrug you off of her, but you clung tightly. Didn’t let go. Didn’t dare to look up into her face, her finally colourful, alive face.

You kept crying.

Into her shirt. Pressed your head into her chest and inhaled through sobs, feeling the damp smell of freshly dug earth and a faint, very faint but there, whiff of her perfume. It just made you sob harder.

She tried once more to get you off of her but quickly realized it was hopeless and instead rested her arms gently on your back, pulling you a little closer.

You kept crying. “You’re alive—” you sobbed out, “you’re b-back-- please-- Ag—”

She held you tighter against her. Vaguely you felt her chin come to rest on your head, messing up your already disheveled hair and you felt her breath against the top of your head.

Her breath.

She was breathing.

“Alright, hun, I’m here.” she murmured hoarsely.

You couldn’t tell if the cracks in her voice were from held back emotion or being literally dead, but you didn’t care. She was talking to you. She was alive. So alive.

You sniffled against her sweater and felt her grumbling above you, something along the lines of ‘if you get snot on my shirt I swear I will—’ but you didn’t find it in you to care.

She was back.

You had her back.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, sobbing and sniffling and holding onto her like a lifeboat in the midst of stormy sea, but eventually you felt your tears slowly but surely slow.

You looked up. Raised your head just a little. Her face was slightly dirty and pale and she looked rarely fragile for a moment, but her gaze landed on your and she smiled.

Briefly.

You realized there were tears in her eyes too.

You sniffled, and finally spoke, in a shaky, trembling voice. “You’re back.”

“Seems so.” she said, and you could hear she was trying to sound nonchalant, but there was an undertone of genuine emotion in her voice, something thin and bittersweet and maybe long-forgotten.

“You’ll stay this time?” you murmured tearfully.

She nodded. “I will. No more dying for anyone. Not even for you.”

You just hugged her tighter. She huffed, mock-breathless, and muttered, “Easy there, toots, I just came back from the dead, I’m not planning on doing a return trip just yet. I need air now.”

You started crying again.

She sighed, lips tight. “Too soon?”

You nodded against her, your cheek against her chest. You could feel her heart beating, slowly, softly but surely, a steady heartbeat. You smiled.

“I thought I’d never get to hug you again.” you mumbled.

She scoffed, pulling away briskly and dusting off your shoulder.

“Now now, I know you missed me but let’s not get too sentimental here, hun.”

You smiled up at her. You didn’t realize you were still crying but she slowly wiped away the tears from your face with her sleeve, a move that made you want to burrow back into her arms and stay there forever.

“I missed you.”

“So you keep saying.”

“Cause I did. I missed hugging you.”

She looked...pained. Slightly uncomfortable. Like she hadn’t been expecting such a high amount of affection coming her way so soon. But still, you heard her say clearly,

“I... missed you too, pet.”

You smiled brightly. Sniffled. She huffed at your expression and tried to get up but just ended up stumbling back onto the ground.

“Now that I’m here and all I’m gonna need my legs, you know. Can’t float out of this astoundingly very tight hug.”

You didn’t budge.

You felt her sigh, a bit more like herself now already.

“Fine-- fine- see, five minutes go by and this is what I have to deal with? The clinging, the neediness-- what are you, an octopus?”

You chuckled through a stuffy nose.

She swatted the top of your head gently and you giggled at it, still not letting go.

“Alright, now, what do I have to do to get you off of me, huh? Can I bribe you?”

“….no?”

“Thought so. Why do you insist on being so difficult?” but there was no evident bite in her voice, and you could’ve sworn you saw her trying to hide her smile.

She nudged you. Then shoved you a little harder, then finally pulled you off of her while holding your arm and stood up, letting out a reluctant, exasperated sigh when you glued yourself right back to her, arms around her waist.

“Alright, kid, listen, I just rose from the grave—”

“Uh-huh.”

“I should at least shower.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not taking you in the shower with me, get off.”

“Just one second more, please—”

She groaned but softly wrapped her arms around you.

“You really are something, you know that.”

“Yeah.”

She laughed. It sounded softer than you remembered.

“Yeah.” she echoed quietly, pressing her lips against your hair once more.

You felt the moment stretch.

“Come on, kiddo.” she spoke against your forehead. “Let’s go back inside." her hand found your own, "And I better not find that you made my house into some suburban, dainty—”

Suburban?

You thought about the mug that stood wrapped with a bow in your backpack, the card you'd brought with you, the one you bought and wrote in, and then erased the text five times before settling on the right words.

“It’s just dusty.” you said into her arm.

She huffed.

“I’ll be the judge of that. If I see one single live love laugh quote I’m going back to being a ghost and haunting your ass for all eternity. I’m not kidding.”

You laughed and wiped your eyes, pressed your face back into her sweater with a smile, and let her guide you both inside.

A/n: ....hey. so i just finished this, first off, i wrote this purely out of self indulgence but i really liked it and it's been a while since i felt confident about liking something i wrote this much so this was important to me. anyway. title is from Little Ghost by The White Stripes, and i'll be honest i do not know the song but when i saw the lyrics i thought of agatha at once. so... yeah. hope you liked this. a sorta part two will happen at some point. Also forgot to mention I def borrowed the phrase 'student mine' from one of my favorite ever fics of AAA, it's by @justaboot on ao3, and it is one of the best characterizations of Agatha and her dynamic with Billy- you should definitely go check it out if u want something good to read. have a wonderful day y'all. <3

Taglist 💜 @milflovers4 @senhorita-girassol @dandelions4us @kaymariesworld @ahintofchaos @atlasimagines

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #marvel #mine #reader insert #agatha harkness x reader #agnes of westview #marvel cinematic universe #mentor agatha harkness #ghost agatha harkness #senor scratchy #agatha coven of chaos #ghost agatha #post wandavision #post agatha all along

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whizzing-fizzbee · 3 months ago

Text

I Remember

Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader

Rating: PG (death, mild violence) Words: 5,339 Tags: G/N reader, G/N MC, angst, grief, mourning, death, love, hurt no comfort, heartbreak, sad Sebastian Sallow

Summary: You died during your seventh year at Hogwarts before you could tell your best friend, Sebastian Sallow, how much you loved him. But when he discovers a box of your pensieve memories, he learns the comforting, yet cruel truth.

Notes: This is a little different from my usual smutty crackfics. So enjoy a bit of angst and have no fear, I’ll be back with more of my usual work soon.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Sebastian Sallow hadn’t been a fan of birthdays in years. He shared his own with a twin sister who no longer cared to speak to him. Their parents hadn’t been alive to celebrate with them in ten years, and now, you – the only person he ever loved romantically – were also gone.

Now, people couldn’t help but whisper and wonder if death favored poor Sebastian Sallow.

Life had been far too cruel to Sebastian for him to care about something as flippant as his seventeenth birthday – especially when it was the first birthday he’d spend without you.

Sebastian never told you how he felt. He could never quite find the words or the right time. A teenage boy plagued by so many misfortunes couldn’t be expected to understand such love anyway. All he knew was his eyes constantly searched for you in every room. He knew he craved lapsang souchong tea, because that’s what you drank – bold and smoky, just like you. And he knew that he would have died for you, without question, if he’d only been a little faster.

It happened three months ago, though it replayed in Sebastian’s mind with such frequency and clarity, it could have happened three days ago, for all he knew.

The two of you had ventured into the Scottish Highlands in search of dittany leaves for a potion. It had been a soft, serene morning punctuated by a mild breeze and the maternal kind of sunshine that embraced you with warmth, offering no inclination you’d endure your demise that day.

After all, you’d eliminated Ranrok and his loyalists. You’d saved Hogwarts – and wizardkind – all while helping the Keepers preserve the secret of your ancient magic in the repository. Your biggest fears these days were Potions exams and Imelda Reyes’ taxing quidditch practices.

But poachers and Ashwinders remained, operating under new unscrupulous undertakings. You knew that – you eliminated them whenever you encountered them – but you hadn’t expected them to be camped outside of Keenbridge that day.

You and Sebastian laughed and joked, unaware that those three Ashwinders were very aware of your presence. So while the two of you cackled about Puffskein Duncan’s hideous new haircut, those Ashwinders were watching. They observed as you gathered your potion ingredients and stashed them inside your bag. They saw the way you tried to shove Sebastian in a creek when he teased you. They noticed the way Sebastian’s eyes lingered on you as you drank from a canteen you’d nicked from Gladwin Moon.

But they didn’t care. And then they struck.

They ambushed you both when your guards were down, your eyes too busy clinging to each other and your thoughts too consumed by your pounding hearts.

An Incarcerous spell struck Sebastian first, whipping ropes around his hands and feet so that he fell at your side. You knelt to help him, shielding you both with Protego until you managed to hit one Ashwinder with a stunning spell.

Another Ashwinder drove you backward with a slew of spell combinations, leaving Sebastian bound and helpless in the grass. He writhed and jerked in desperation. You took the second Ashwinder on, your eyes shifting between her and Sebastian. And when you saw the third Ashwinder approaching him, you lost all regard for anything but him.

“Expelliarmus!” you shouted as you disarmed the third Ashwinder. You sent another cast at Sebastian, freeing him from his bindings so that he could scramble to his feet. You caught his gaze, admired those deep brown eyes, and he smirked at you. The two of you had been in similar scenarios more times than you could remember. And you always walked away unscathed.

And then, the explosion sent you backward. The Ashwinder you had been fighting seized that opportunity when you were lost in Sebastian and sent you flying off your feet until you toppled over the edge of a cliff.

You fell and fell, a slow-motion stage exit to the grand production of your short life. It was quite a letdown of a finale. Surely someone with experience like yours would die in a much more grandiose manner than a few lowly Ashwinders.

The last thing you heard was Sebastian’s scream before your body returned to the earth. Your soul never did, though.

So while Sebastian managed to escape those Ashwinders with his life, he walked away from that day drained of his will to continue surviving.

He’d lost nearly every person close to him. It made him question everything – his purpose, his resolve, and every choice that had led to so many devastating conclusions.

He had to be the one to apparate back to the Hogwarts grounds with your body. He could still hear the whispers – then the screams – as your fellow students realized what had happened. He sat through your funeral while Headmaster Black prattled on some performative prose about how wonderful you were. Then he clung to a corner of the Slytherin Common Room while your housemates drifted past, mumbling their condolences.

And then, whatever spell had been placed on the world was lifted. Hogwarts was no longer frozen in time. Your classmates returned to their studies and professors went about their lessons. The morose hallways reignited with their old energy, ringing with jubilant chatter. Even the weather moved on, its summer blossoms and laughing waters wilting amid a cold cast of clouds and decay.

Life carried on for everyone but Sebastian. He remained there with you, rooted to the spot in time where he watched your spirited life reach its screeching halt. While everyone else drifted forward, Sebastian lingered in place, searching for you in every new moment while the old ones anchored him to his anguish.

It had become a canon event in Sebastian’s life, a familiar foe he couldn’t outrun. He lost someone he loved, the world felt sorry for him, and then it moved on. It left Sebastian lonely and isolated, smothered by a grief few others could comprehend. Hogwarts had been his home for years, but your absence made him homesick.

That’s why no one blamed Sebastian for hating his birthday today. No one even dared to approach him, except Ominis in the morning. He urged Sebastian to eat but left when he was met with a cool response. It made no difference. Sebastian had mastered the art of saying words he didn't believe, even if Ominis saw right through them. Instead of attending classes, Sebastian retreated to the Undercroft.

The dark, damp dungeon missed you desperately. When Sebastian first introduced you to the space, you had insisted on tidying it up. You used scrubbing spells to clean the surfaces and fire spells to clear the cobwebs; then you used Professor Weasley’s conjuration spells to add furniture and desks. You even placed thoughtful little trinkets to a tabletop, a touch that reflected your desire to add warmth and comfort wherever you went.

But now, the Undercroft was achingly empty in your absence. Though the traces of your previous presence lingered, the room’s creaks and groans seemed to whimper for your return. The surfaces had collected dust and the floors were dingy again, desperate to be disrupted by your tread. The braziers were dimmer, begging for a blast of your fiery existence.

Sebastian hated that room now. It was once his recluse; his safe space meant only for him and the three people he cared about. But now that your handprints were all over it, it was lacking the life you had once breathed into it.

Sebastian left the Undercroft and ascended the Astronomy Tower. When the Room of Requirement appeared for him, he strode right in. It would provide him with whatever it was he needed.

He visited your room often, simply to stand and feel its pulse. You were everywhere. And unlike the Undercroft, you lingered with life here. Sometimes, Sebastian sat on a sofa in the side room until he dozed off. Other times, he’d venture into the vivariums to check on its inhabitants. Most times, he merely felt ; the room seemed to know Sebastian wanted to remember you, and it often hummed with a calm, quiet murmur reminiscent of your soothing tone.

Today, the room seemed to know Sebastian was in need of a birthday gift. As he wandered toward the side room, his eyes scanning the bookshelves you’d filled with your – and Sebastian’s – favorite novels, his eyes fell on a trunk. He had never noticed it before.

Sebastian frowned and eyed the trunk’s lid. There was no lock on it.

After you died, your friends had been careful with your belongings. Sebastian kept everything of sentimental value in a trunk of his own, from your school robes to the notebooks containing your scribbles about ancient magic. Everything that mattered to you was in his care now, so it struck him as odd that there’d be a secret trunk in your Room of Requirement.

Sebastian swallowed, unsure of what he would find as he kneeled over the trunk and waved his wand. The lid clicked open and he lifted it, revealing some old clothes. Sebastian blinked. It all seemed rather anticlimactic. But as he lifted an old sweater from the top of the pile, he stilled.

The familiar S.S. initials were embroidered across the left breast. He had wondered what happened to this sweater and assumed it was lost in the laundry ages ago. Beneath it, was a scarf. His school scarf.

At the very bottom of the trunk was a package – a small box wrapped in brown paper with your familiar scrawl in ink. You had written his name across the top.

Sebastian stared at it, as if lifting it from the trunk would shift the paradigm of his universe. But curiosity was Sebastian’s Achilles, and he soon found himself setting his old clothes aside for the package.

He brushed dust from the top of the wrapped box, his fingers tracing over his own name as if the ink you’d left would leech into his fingertips, absorbing you with it.

He treated the paper with the utmost care, peeling it slowly away from the box to ensure it wouldn’t tear. It revealed an old wooden box, unremarkable and unassuming. Sebastian turned it over carefully, the sounds of delicate glass tinkling from inside. Once he confirmed there were no markings or inscriptions on the box, he flipped it back over and snapped the top open.

Inside was a folded sheet of old parchment and a set of tiny glass vials, each filled with clear liquid. Dust clung to the vials, leaving Sebastian’s fingers dingy as he examined each one for clues revealing their contents. Each cylinder was labeled with a date so small, Sebastian had to squint to see them.

He set the box on the floor next to the trunk and carefully unfolded the old parchment with both hands. Again, your familiar handwriting revealed itself.

Dear Sebastian,

Happy birthday! Please view these pensieve memories on your own time, in private. You’ll understand once you see them. Then come find me when you feel the time is right, no pressure.

Love always, Your kindred spirit

Sebastian smiled. Your voice echoed in his mind and ears, like you were reading the letter aloud right next to him. He hadn’t smiled at the memory of you since you died.

Instead, his grief had crawled into every crevice of his brain and body, constricting him into a body bind of immobilizing heartache. It clamped down on his veins and arteries and cut off his blood supply. His brain screamed for some semblance of life. It left his nerve endings void of all sensation and pooled in the pit of his stomach, an omnipresent offering of torment and guilt.

Sebastian scrambled to his feet, cradling the box in his arm as if it contained the most important secrets in the world. To him, it did.

He scurried from the Room of Requirement and retreated back to the Undercroft, now grateful for its quiet seclusion. He set the box carefully on a table and sorted through each vial until he found the one with the earliest date.

After he uncorked it, his hand shook as it hovered above the pensieve. Its swirling liquid seemed to beckon him, pleading for memories to resurrect it back to life. But Sebastian hesitated, fearful for what lay on the other side of this moment.

He trusted you more than anyone, but you clearly had meant for these memories to remain a secret until the right moment. Sebastian was sure you’d packaged them up under the assumption you’d be alive for his birthday. What if your death had changed everything and these memories were supposed to die with you?

The last thing Sebastian wanted was to betray or dishonor you. Your life had been so full of intention – from your determination to stop Ranrok to your sincere endeavors to help cure Anne’s curse. Sebastian wanted to preserve your memory with love and admiration. But these were his memories now. You’d wanted to share them with him and he would honor that, no matter their contents, no matter the cost.

Sebastian tipped the vial and watched a single drop ripple across the pensieve’s surface. It glimmered and swirled, stirring wispy trails in its gentle wakes. Sebastian didn’t wait to plunge his face in.

More smoke swept past him and he hurtled straight into the Slytherin Common Room. He immediately spotted himself, pacing in front of the fireplace with his nose in a book. He recognized this moment better than his own wand.

And then you appeared. You paused behind the sofa and watched Sebastian curiously. He had never noticed that. Your eyes studied him until he finally looked up from his book.

Sebastian had to watch himself meet you for the first time all over again. It tugged at his heartstrings, twisting and tightening them inside his chest. You were right there, mere feet from him, but he couldn’t reach out and touch you.

He watched as you introduced yourself and smiled as you inquired about his book. He told you not every useful spell could be found in assigned textbooks, to which you expressed your intrigue. And that was when Sebastian declared you kindred spirits; the phrase that would connect the two of you by an unseen thread for life.

Sebastian was uncertain why you chose to return him to this particular memory. He remembered it far too fondly to need a refresher. But as he watched your first meeting come to an end, he noticed as you walked away and paused to turn, your gaze lingering on his form long after he had returned his attention to his book.

He hadn’t known that happened.

The memory ended and thrust him back to the Undercroft, where Sebastian stilled to process your replay of your first meeting. What was he meant to take away from such a simple moment? Of course, the events that followed had been anything but simple. You became the most complex person to ever enter Sebastian’s life.

He fumbled quickly through the remaining vials for the next and wasted no time tapping another drop into the pensieve. This memory seemed to shimmer and sparkle as it dispersed across the pensieve’s cloudy waters. Sebastian drew a breath and dipped his head.

This one was clearly Christmastime. You, Sebastian and Ominis were cozied up in the common room. You were seated between the two boys on the sofa, a blanket thrown across your lap while you clutched a mug of cocoa in your hand. Ominis looked relaxed, a rare change from his typical poise. Sebastian slouched lazily in his seat, a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans in his lap. The fire crackled as you laughed at one of Ominis’ dry remarks, though your eyes were on Sebastian.

He watched as you smiled at his pensieve form, warmth radiating from your gaze. Your lips curved as you teased him about his tousled hair, to which he became indignant and tossed a jelly bean at you. You squealed and nearly splashed your cocoa on Ominis, who squawked in displeasure.

You picked up the jelly bean and chucked it back at Sebastian, who caught it and popped it in his mouth before his features contorted in disgust.

“I think that one was dirt-flavored,” he whined.

“Good, serves you right,” you declared happily. Sebastian’s pensieve version reached toward you to give your hair a sharp, playful tug. You swatted his hand away and laughed wildly, all while Ominis chided you and Sebastian for making a mess.

It was another moment Sebastian had committed to his own reserve of memories with clarity and fondness. But again, your version was different.

This time, he noticed the way you noticed him. Your eyes never left him, even when Ominis spoke. You leaned closer to him, your body nearly touching his when you teased him. And then there was the moment your hands brushed – completely innocuous – but Sebastian noticed the way your breath hitched and your cheeks flushed. His did the same.

He watched as Ominis yawned and declared it was time for bed. Your mutual friend said goodnight and disappeared toward the boys’ dormitories, leaving you and Sebastian’s pensieve form in each other’s company.

The pair sat and talked quietly, an occasional giggle interrupting your murmurs, until the fire waned to soft embers and you dozed off on his shoulder. That was one of Sebastian’s favorite memories.

But he remembered the subtle smell of your hair, the warmth of your body and the soft breaths that sighed from your lips during your slumber. He didn’t remember what happened once he fell asleep.

And so he watched as the memory shifted like a leap in time, and then you stirred, likely in the middle of the night. You lifted your head and peered upward at Sebastian, smiling as you watched him sleep. Your chest swelled and eyes softened until you gently returned your head to his shoulder until the morning.

As the memory came to a close, Sebastian began to wonder. What were you trying to tell him? What did those stolen glances and secret smiles mean?

The third memory surged inside the pensieve when the liquid met the surface. This one stirred a storm of dark and volatile streaks, which made Sebastian scared to see its contents. But once again, he dipped his head with bated breath.

He recognized the Feldcroft catacomb immediately. And in a sudden rush, he watched himself sprint past, toward the exit. Sebastian couldn’t forget this moment if he tried – and he often did.

“Sebastian!” you cried as you jogged into view. Tears streamed down your cheeks and your face was bleeding from your fight with Solomon. You begged Sebastian to stop, but he was far too gone – in every sense of the phrase – to even acknowledge you.

Shame surged through Sebastian as he relived one of the worst moments of his life. He followed after you as you pleaded with his pensieve version to wait until you eventually stopped calling his name.

But when you reached the exit, the memory shifted and Sebastian was thrust to your dormitory. This scene was new to him.

His expression fell as he watched you sink to the floor, your body hitching with violent sobs. Your hair was still disheveled, robes torn and tattered, and blood streaked across your cheek from the fight in the catacomb. Sebastian had never seen you so anguished. The sight would haunt him the same way your death would.

He stood in the corner of the room, tears welling in his eyes as he watched you unravel, scared and alone. You sobbed so hard your chest heaved and your stomach lurched.

The scene blurred again until Sebastian was returned to the Undercroft, this time as a voyeur. He caught his breath as he watched you plead with Ominis to refrain from turning him in for killing Solomon.

“I don’t want to lose Sebastian, but I don’t think we have a choice,” Ominis said.

“We do have a choice,” you insisted. “What good would it do if we turn him in now? He clearly regrets everything. He’s not going to do anything like this again.”

“We both heard that before,” Ominis argued.

“But we also need to think about Anne. She’s lost her health. Now she’s lost her uncle. Do you really want to take her brother away from her too?” you pushed.

When Ominis finally relented, Sebastian watched as more tears streamed over your cheeks. Your eyes were empty, no longer brimming with your bold energy. Sebastian had drained it from you. The realization shattered his heart.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Ominis asked you.

“I care about them both,” you answered. “I know Anne doesn’t much care for me, but Sebastian needs her… and I need him.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Ominis asked quietly.

You nodded in response. “I do.”

Ominis sighed, though it was evident he wasn’t surprised by your revelation. You and Sebastian were as clear as diamonds — and as hard as them, too. As much as it frustrated Ominis, he knew it was also what made the two of you so simpatico. You understood Sebastian on a profound level few others could even scrape.

“You’ve got to save him,” Ominis whispered. “He can’t save himself. He’s too far gone. You have to be the one to help him. You’re the only one.”

You nodded in understanding, your cheeks now raw and red from the salty sting of your tears.

“I will,” you said softly. “I love him too much to lose him to this.”

The memory ended and Sebastian swished back to the Undercroft, now in its present state. He gripped the edge of the pensieve to hold himself upright, its cold stone pressed hard against his fingers. He was crying now, his breath shaky as he fought for air.

His legs gave way and he collapsed to the floor on his knees, his body bent in child’s pose as he choked on his own sobs. He remained there until his bones seemed to disintegrate. His body felt like a vacant home left to rot into ruins.

You loved him. He watched you admit it. You loved him, and you fought for him. When others wanted to give up on him, you were ready to step closer. You vowed to save him because he had meant that much to you.

And you had succeeded. Because once your fifth year ended, you inserted yourself to Sebastian’s side, an extension of his own body. You resurrected him from the cavernous clutches of dark magic and desperation, and revived him with renewed energy. You let him lean on you in the days that followed Solomon’s death. You talked him through his guilt and reminded him he was worthy of a good life that shouldn’t be defined by his past. You refused to allow him to punish himself, but ensured he was remorseful for what he did. You showed him what it meant to become redemption.

Your empathy and understanding nursed Sebastian back to his old form – the charming, friendly and resourceful boy he was before your fifth year – the boy you had never even met. You were his savior, not because you needed another person to rescue, but because saving Sebastian from himself also saved you.

After all the evil you’d endured, you needed to believe that people could still be good. You needed reassurance that light could still outshine dark. And you needed to know if your love would be enough for someone, even if it wasn’t reciprocated.

Because the one thing that saved you and Sebastian Sallow both was your best shared attribute: your optimism.

Sebastian lay curled up on the floor of the Undercroft for a good hour. He was overcome with grief, guilt and regret, and they all clashed at once, straining his heart until he was certain it would sever inside his chest.

What if he had simply told you he loved you? Maybe it wouldn’t have prevented your death, but at least you would have known. At least you would have died with a full heart and the comfort that the boy you cared about the most needed you in all the same ways.

And selfishly, maybe you would have told Sebastian you loved him, too.

When silence returned to the Undercroft after Sebastian’s sobs subsided, he sat up, his weight supported back on his hands. There was still one vial remaining.

He wasn’t sure he had the energy to witness any more monumental memories, but truly, he had no choice. He wouldn’t rest until he understood every message you were trying to send him. He owed you that, at the very least.

Sebastian gathered himself up off the floor to retrieve the last vial. He was cool and clammy, which caused him to grip the vial particularly hard amid concern he would drop it. As he tilted it over the pensieve with a shaking hand, it splashed and shimmered streaks of gold that reminded him of sun rays.

He recognized this memory instantly. It had taken place a week before you died. The two of you snuck out of the castle to explore another old cave. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, other than an adventure. Sometimes, the two of you merely created your own expeditions for old time’s sake.

This one led you all the way to the Clagmar Coast. Once you determined the cave housed nothing more than a chest of old spectacles, you and Sebastian decided to sit and watch the stars under the cover of the cave’s secluded opening. It overlooked the sea, which shimmered beneath the moon. You could hear the churns of the waves smashing into the cliffside below, but not even the surf’s rumble could drown out the slamming heart inside your chest.

You hugged your knees as you sat close enough to Sebastian that you could feel his warmth. The salt air whipped through your hair and he laughed as you struggled to keep it in place, finally admitting defeat when it plastered itself to your face.

Sebastian watched as you shivered. He had chided you for wearing only a knit jumper, even though he had done the same. What he hadn’t known was that your shivers weren’t from the cold. As so when he draped an arm around you and pulled you close against his body to keep you warm, your own body shuddered more. You welcomed its response because it meant he’d hold you even tighter. You did this more often than you’d ever admit – sometimes you pretended to be cold just so Sebastian would hold you.

Sebastian had dwelled on this memory at a damn near obsessive rate. His head had become a vast vault of moments with you, each one stored away in meticulous order that would make Madam Scribner proud. But this one sat on the nearest shelf, within easy reach so that he could call upon it often.

He hadn’t known it would be one of his final fond memories of you.

But again, your version was different.

Because this variant exposed everything. The moonlight cast itself over your eyes, which softened every time Sebastian glanced at you. But as you snuggled closer to him, Sebastian watched as you squeezed them shut. They looked like a camera shutter, committing the moment to the film inside your head.

And then you stole one more glance up at Sebastian’s pensieve form and your eyes screamed louder than the waves below. You gazed at your freckled friend with so much love, it made Sebastian’s chest cave as he watched.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t utter the words that were perched on the tip of your tongue. You didn’t have to. Neither of you did.

Finally, Sebastian understood.

That was the beauty of it all. For all of your unspoken words, your silent declarations, and your desperate desires, you were both enough.

You and Sebastian adored each other in secret and in silence. But you lived and loved out loud.

And though you both wished you could have experienced that love to its full extent and in its truest form – raw, real and unrestrained – what you did share was enough.

So when Sebastian returned to the Undercroft for the final time, the last of your pensieve memories complete, he sank back to the floor with his back pressed against the wall.

Because even though he understood now, even though he realized he’d always carried your love, he was in mourning.

He mourned the romance you’d never have. He mourned your future cut short by the sharp, cruel blade of an unfair fate. And he mourned your memories – all of them – because this wasn’t how you’d intended him to see them.

He was supposed to view them and then sprint to you. Had you been alive, he likely would have found you tucked away in a quiet corner of the library or en route to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeers with Poppy and Natty. He would have chased you down and told you he’d seen all the memories. He would have told you he loved you, too. The two of you would have laughed at how silly you’d been. And then he would have kissed you and stolen you away from whatever endeavor you had going on to make up for lost time.

But now, you’d lost more than time and nothing would make up for it. It would gnaw away at Sebastian forever.

But the worst part was he couldn’t save you. He could return to your memories to see you again, but he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t feel you, couldn’t speak with you or reach out to pull you to safety. He couldn’t bring you back.

Soon, those memories would be gone, too. The vials you left were no bigger than Sebastian’s index finger. They’d run empty if he revisited the pensieve too often. He hated how he had to ration you like this. You loved each other. He deserved you with boundless abundance.

And though you’d found a way to tell him how you felt, he would never have the chance to tell you. He silently prayed you somehow secretly knew, but you deserved more than the cowardice of unspoken words. You deserved a loud and vibrant love, obnoxious to those who envied you and beautiful to those who understood you.

And then Sebastian realized.

He scurried from the Undercroft, your vials left in their box to be retrieved later. Right now, he had to get to you.

You were buried just south of Hogsmeade, near the observation platform that overlooked the South Hogwarts region and the castle. It was your favorite place, because you said it presented you with a perfect view of home and everything you loved.

When Sebastian reached your grave, he fell to his knees before it. Tears returned to his eyes and he choked back a sob.

“I saw them,” he sputtered. “I saw everything – all of your pensieve memories. I wish you’d told me. I wish we could have known how it felt to be together. And I wish I could have told you how much I love you, too.”

And then he wept. He wept for himself, for you, and for the universe that had to continue its existence without the privilege of your presence.

He cried until every emotion had poured itself from his eyes into the soil of your grave. He prayed his tears would seep six feet under and find their way to you. You had given him your tears – they now sat in those tiny little vials that Sebastian would treasure forever. The least he could do was gift you with his, even if it was his birthday.

He stopped celebrating for good that year, electing to instead spend every birthday returning to your pensieve memories until one day, those were gone, too.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x gn reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #angst #whizzing fizzbee fanfic

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yurinaa-world · 5 months ago

Note

I HAVE RTURNED WIRH ANOTHER LND REQUEST IF YOU DONT MIND >:)))

Okay idk if this is too general but i rlly wanna request something SOOOO what if shy!reader that has a hard time communicating/socialising in general, so to show that she loves them she bakes them pastries and deserts, plays soft love songs on the piano for him and make him little diy gifts! She isnt the richest person but she still wants to give him gifts :D

“𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮, 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓭𝓸.”

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, & Sylus x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's shy, she shows her love through pastries, desserts, and gentle piano songs for him

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝑅𝒶𝒻𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓁 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝓎𝓈𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝓇"

He's expecting it, you are not exactly good at hiding your traces even if you are the type to run your mouth—the small bits of parts from the gifts you’re working on for him. He may be a tad bit messy but even he notices things like that. But for your sake, he’ll pretend like he doesn’t know but know that doesn’t change how he’ll react to it. With utter joy and happiness.

Sometimes he sees you lying on a desk or surface with your half-finished project to the side while you’re uncomfortable sleeping. You must have worked hard, obvious from all the messed up/broken ones overflowing the garbage, "Fell asleep at your desk again, huh? Do beds offend you?" he playfully says, but it’s not like you’ll actually hear him.

A smile on his face that spreads from ear to ear while you tell him to cover his eyes and wait for a second in that pretty shy tone, that leaves his heart pumping while waiting for you. He opened his eyes to see the sight of you, held the gift in your hands, and waited for him to take your gift with a tiny smile on your face. Ugh! How could he get so lucky?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Rafayel, don’t open your eyes for even a second,”

Watching you scramble around, sitting him down on his messy coach, while forcefully taking his soft hands, and making himself cover his already closed eyes—just to make extra sure that he wasn’t looking.

“Not even for a second?”

“Not for a second.” You reform in a gentle sugar-sweet tone.

He already knows the present since he might have accidentally seen it (You aren’t too good at hiding things).

Hearing your dispating footsteps against his cluttered floor, before quickly coming back with a little box in your hand, like the size of a ring box.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Holding the little box in front of his face before opening it to reveal a little ring made out of paper—yet it had supreme detail to it, he’s impressed by you.

Taking out the little paper ring from the ring box, without a second thought, he slides the perfect fitted ring on his ring finger, twiddling his ring finger.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to charm me.” You softly laugh at those words of his, with a smile on your face as you slowly put away the ring box to the side. “Haven’t I already charmed you? A long time ago.” You say a tad bit shyly.

“You have, a very long time ago.”

💫𝒵𝒶𝓎𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓇"

He can already hear the music at your wedding. He feels so grateful to you for tasting the sweet desserts that you went out of your way to buy ingredients, bring everything out in your kitchen, and then bake them to absolute perfection. This is exactly what he needs after a long day of work: finding your little dessert in the fridge with a note on top, telling him to enjoy it.

Or even on the rare days that he’s finally gotten himself a day off, he of course spends it with you! Even if you are the quiet type, why don’t you bake some sweets together, he’ll be at your service, whether him being your assistant to do the fun stuff, doing the repetitive tasks that you don’t need to do, or just both?

Seeing you cover your mouth giggling about the flour that spread on his hair without his knowing. Help him get the flour off, leaning his head down a little so you could see where the flour got stuck.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"Is there anything you need me to do?"

Zayne’s steady and calm voice pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to face him, only to freeze at the sight before you. There he was, tall and composed, wearing a pastel pink apron with frilly edges that looked so absurdly out of place on him that you had to cover your mouth with both hands to hold back a laugh.

His sharp eyes immediately caught your reaction, and he tilted his head slightly, one eyebrow raised as he crossed his arms. "What?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "Is there something wrong with my... outfit?"

You quickly shook your head, your face flushing as you avoided his gaze. "N-no," you stammered, the words barely escaping your lips. "It’s just... I didn’t expect..." Your voice trailed off, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you tried to steady your racing thoughts.

"Unexpected, huh?" Zayne’s smirk widened as he took a slow step closer. His voice softened, teasing yet warm. "I thought it was practical. Functional. It keeps the flour off, doesn’t it?"

You nodded quickly, stealing a glance at him for a brief moment before looking back down at the counter. "Y-yeah... it does," you murmured, the corners of your lips twitching into a shy smile.

"But you’re still laughing," he pointed out, his tone laced with amusement. "Was it the frills? Or the fact that I chose this one out of all the options?"

“It’s a sight for sore eyes. But you if you still want to help me, could please mix the ice up for me,”

💫𝒳𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓇 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒪𝒻 𝐿𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉"

He enjoys it very much, to the point he’ll even go out of his way to return your pretty gifts and make his own (maybe with the help of Jeremiah by his side, slightly guiding him on what to do). Maybe even double it.

Come to both of your shocks…well you made the same thing, a really cute little flower bouquet (even though in your eyes, yours looked very basic, you still wanted to give him something on short notice).

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ah…”You look down at the bouquet in your hands—a beautiful collection of paper roses, meticulously folded and shaped—even though you wanted to rip your hair out over the several thousand tries you did to make every rose perfect.

“Oh….we made the same thing.”

“I… I didn’t think you’d…” you begin, your voice is soft and hesitant, trailing off as you look down at the bouquet in your hands. Xavier offers a small smile, his eyes sparkling as he steps closer, examining the roses in his grasp. “I suppose great minds think alike,” he replies lightly, though there’s a hint of warmth in his tone.

“I wanted to make something special for you, even though it’s just paper.”

Xavier’s smile softens, and for a moment, he remains silent, simply gazing at you. In that quiet, there’s a depth that words can’t capture.

He shifts his gaze back to the roses, now with a thoughtful expression, as if appreciating the care you’ve taken with each petal. “Whether it’s special or not,” he says softly, “it’s beautiful.” His tone is calm, yet there’s a gentleness that makes you feel like you might just dissolve into the floor. “What really counts is the effort you put in.” You blink, taken aback by his sincerity. “You… really believe that?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

His other hand holding his roses, which he of course exchanges with you—so now you carry something of his. “I’m glad you like it,” you mumble, your voice soft, almost shy, while staring at his petals.

Xavier’s smile grows just a little wider. “Like it? I think I might just keep it.” You blink at him, completely caught off guard. “Keep it?” He nods, his gaze soft but serious now, holding your bouquet with careful hands.

“Of course. I’d like to keep it. You made it for me.”

💫𝒮𝓎𝓁𝓊𝓈 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒪𝒻 𝒪𝓃𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓊𝓈"

The days you start to learn a new song, hearing you play through piano keys several times while trying to get through a single verse of the song. Yet, he listens to every part of it, even the mistakes. Leaning outside of the door, against the wall, with a small smile on his lips.

He loves listening to play, and he even buys you various music books, you can search it up, but it’s fun going old fashion right? Or maybe tune your piano up. Anything you may wish he’ll provide, just to hear those beautiful fingers play.

But when the time comes you play for him without him having to hide behind the other side of the door, he can’t help but be in utter joy. Wait, Oh, you want him to sit with you, and do a duet, are you sure? his singing voice isn’t that amazing, he doubts that his piano skills will be any better.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your hands fluidly dripped over the black and white fragile keys of the grand piano you were playing on, the melody pouring out of the keys you played, weaving together a beautiful song that you had practicing for days, and Sylus wanted to hear even though you hadn’t completely perfected the entire song.

Your eyes flutter open as you play the last of a note, the music immediately dissipating in the echoing room. “Come and sit with me.” You softly mutter, and he immediately accepts your invitation, shifting to the side—just enough room that he could sit beside you.

Sylus eased himself onto the bench without a word, the soft hum of his coat brushing against the polished wood. His closeness was immediate, almost magnetic, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his presence filled the space beside you as the air itself bent around him.

His eyes swept over the piano keys, then landed on you, holding a quiet intensity that made your pulse quicken.

“You’ve been hiding this from me,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur, a thread of teasing weaving through his tone.

Your gaze dropped to your hands, resting on the keys, the faint echo of your unfinished melody still lingering in the back of your mind. “It’s not ready,” you replied, your voice soft, hesitant. “I’m still working on it,”

“And you wanted to hear so badly, so I gave you the chance….”

Sylus tilted his head, watching you with an unreadable expression—well, a smirk on his lips but his eyes were mysterious to you. “Good. Imperfection makes it honest.”

An idea strikes you, taking his long, nimble fingers to the same keys you were playing before. “Why don’t you try it?” Puppeteering his fingers on the notes, letting out a small song with the few notes his one hand could play.

He tilted his head toward you, the teasing in his voice almost palpable. “Puppeteering me now? You must be desperate to hear me butcher your song.”

“It’s not butchering,” you said, your voice light but with an edge of earnestness. “It’s learning.”

His gaze flickered to yours, something softer settling in his expression. “Learning, huh?” he murmured, the teasing dropping to a quieter, more thoughtful tone. “I’ll be a good student, then.”

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#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#love and deep space #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lnds sylus #lads sylus #Lnds #sylus x reader #lnds x reader #Sylus x reader #lads x reader #lnd zayne #zayne x reader #lnds zayne #lnds rafayel #lnds xavier #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader

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