#what can i say.. the witches have.. bewitched me

[p4ranormaluv]

BEWITCHED — 재윤, 제이 (teaser)

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TO BE RELEASED NOV. 10 OR 17, 2024

jake and jay are the complete opposite of vampire stereotypes. they aren't sex gods or evil devils like the people warn, they've never drank human blood or even lost their virginity. in reality, jake and jay are two loser best friends who touch themselves more than they've touched a woman's hand and they drink animal blood. when they find out you've been blamed for their actions, the townspeople accusing you of witchcraft and sacrificing livestock, the two men try their best to help prove your innocence. in exchange, you offer them your blood.

PAIRING: vampire!jake x f!reader x vampire!jay

GENRE: smut, romance, angst, dark fantasy au

CONTENTS: vague historical setting, strangers to poly relationship (no mlm), lots of petnames, mutual love bombing? (in a good way), getting frisky in a corn maze, witches & trials, brief talk of animal sacrifices/death, biting & blood drinking, hanging, past death/side character death (with graphic desc.), ft. jungwon, more tags possibly tba

SMUT WARNINGS: two smut scenes (estimated wc 9k combined), virgin!jayke, sub!jayke, dom!reader, bedroom titles (puppy, angel, miss, etc.), jayke get turned on by drinking your blood, voyeurism (jake watches you bathe), masturbation, jay is the goodest boy, jake is a pervy cuck in disguise as a good boy, oral sex, piv, creampie (vamps can't procreate), praise/light degradation, filthy yet oddly loving sex, cock kisses, orgasm control, male squirting?, minor crying, overstim, making love, marking, more tags possibly tba

WC: estimated 20k (teaser wc: 1.1k. not proofread.)

TEASER UNDER CUT

“i don’t want you to go hunting anymore.” you state a little too urgently, the two men turning to you with a look as though you’d grown two heads.

“but…my lady, we have to.” jay explains, sounding as if he’s asking a question with how confused he is over your outburst.

“what if you didn’t have to?” you begin, unsure of how to say it.

“what do you mean?” jake asks, a rare moment where he’s fully staring at you, bashfulness forgotten as you stand before them.

“i…i could give you my blood.”

jay’s eyes widen impossibly, and jake becomes so flustered he hides his face in his hands and turns his back to you in favor of staring out the window.

“y/n! but— you…it’s…” jay’s eyes unfocus as his gaze is almost aimless, staring at nothing as you can tell he’s consumed by his thoughts. then he clears his throat and shakes his head, your interest sparked as it’s rare for even him to be bashful— at least show it.

“it’s not…to be taken lightly, giving a vampire your blood. especially since…”

“since you haven’t fed off a human before, besides when you both turned. i know.” you begin, knowledgeable from your vampiric studying.

a vampire drinking blood, especially from a willing human— it’s intimate, and can sometimes be somewhat of a sexual act. especially when jay and jake have been deprived of human blood for such a long time, it’s more likely to get…intense. and you can’t lie, the thought thrills you— but that’s not even your intention. your purpose is pure. why have the boys go out every night to struggle to fill their appetite when you’re right here?

“i’m aware of it all, jay. i still want to help you…if you want to have me.”

jake makes an abrupt choked sound that descends into a cough from your words. he knows you didn’t mean to sound so suggestive, yet he finds himself having to talk himself down, desperate to calm the growing hardness between his legs before it’s noticeable.

jay stares at you with wide eyes that resemble the night sky, holding every spark of light in his irises like stars. he bites his lip, subsequently flashing his sharpened fangs at you.

your heart stirs.

“are you…sure?”

“entirely, jay. i’ve thought of this for a while.”

“and you’re aware that it…will hurt a bit.”

you nod your head, a small smile that’s meant to be soothing on your lips. “i’m not one to be overly sensitive to pain.”

“…alright.” jay whispers, growing closer to stand before you, the tips of his shoes just beneath your skirts.

your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation, slowly pulling the sleeve of your bodice down to further reveal your neck and the junction of your shoulder, staring up at jay the entire time. the raven haired man shudders a breath, unable to control where his gaze lands anymore as he looks from your face to the smooth skin of your clavicle, and how the short ruffled hem of your blouse frames it enticingly. your breathing becomes faster as jay finally closes the small remaining distance, hands holding your waist as he pulls you against him. his nose brushes against your cheek, and you can hear him taking a slow inhale.

“you smell good, like you’ll taste sweet.” he mutters almost to himself, but you feel your body reacting to his words and his breath fanning against your neck, large hands gripping your waist more firmly. “your heart is beating faster.”

leaning further down towards the junction of your shoulder, jay mutters. “are you ready, my lady?”

“yes, jay. go ahead…bite me.”

his mouth bares as he doesn’t hesitate sinking his teeth into your flesh, making the pain not as bad but still enough to make you gasp— a burning hurt in your shoulder that turns into an odd tingling sensation as jay starts to suck.

you sigh as you try and get used to the feeling, jay’s lips pressing into your skin. his hands move in favor to wrap his arms entirely around your waist, and you find yourself having to surpass a moan at his chest being pressed against yours— how his sucking spreads that growing, pleasurably weak sensation all over your body.

“jake,” you breathily call out, wanting the boy to get a taste before you’ll have to stop.

the brunet slowly turns around, big brown eyes glossy in the moonlight as they roam over your form that’s captured in jay’s hold. your dress has lowered even more, breasts peeking out from the top as your face is contorted into an almost erotic expression.

you look absolutely breathtaking— and delectable. which is most likely why jake falls under an almost entranced state, hardly even noticing how his feet take a step forward. still— he’s hesitant, and you find yourself cooing to him with one arm outstretched.

“come, jakey. it’s okay, get your fill.”

you don’t miss the earnest whimper that he lets out before he’s suddenly in front of you, legs trembling as he stumbles to his knees beneath you. his hands are desperate and eager as he grabs your forearm, bringing himself closer until his teeth are piercing into your veins. you can’t help the pained sound you let out, jake much more messy and uncoordinated with how he bites you— and him sucking right at your veins make that pleasurable feeling grow ten fold. your cunt pulses strongly between your legs, nipples hardening as you feel like everything becomes more sensitive.

your moan is crude, but the boys only react with throaty whines of their own as they press and suck their plush lips to your skin more desperately. all control has practically been lost between the three of you all at once, your thighs growing weaker as jake presses himself to your leg, one hand wrapping around it from beneath your dress while the other still holds your arm with bruising strength that you’re sure is unconscious. jake’s legs squeeze around your ankle, and that’s when you’re made aware of the distinct hardness his cock has turned. you find your foot pushing against him without thinking, the movement so slight, yet jake is moaning out from the sensation.

one of jay’s hands creeps up from your waist to cup your jaw, tilting you more to the side before his fingers feel downward, over the veins of your neck.

“m— my lady,” he exhales shakily, retracting his teeth out of your shoulder to lick at the blood that drips down.

[nonbinarylesbianherb]

sorry for the mass agatha all along posts and yaps, unfortunately you’re going to be seeing a lot of that

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x muggle fem!reader

Summary: After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard.

Genre: Fluff <3 / pt.2 to Enchanted

Warnings: tbh none

6 months later, James is sprawled out on your couch in your small London apartment. He's dressed in your university sweater, which hugs him snugly but he doesn't seem like he minds. You'd switched into his so he doesn't have much of a choice anyway.

He's pretending to really read the book he had found on your dresser but he keeps his eyes trained on how absorbed you seem in the show you're watching.

James sees the title; "Bewitched". He smiles to himself when he sees you try and wiggle your nose like Samantha does and you fall back onto James lap, sighing. 

"D'you think I'd make a good witch?" you ask suddenly and his heart almost collapses. 

He runs a hand in your hair, playing with the strands as he ponders your question, "Mmm, yeah, you would, lovie," he says and chuckles when you sit up and start to ramble. 

"I mean, can you just imagine having magic! I could–I could make all this mess disappear instantly!" you exclaim happily, gesturing to your slightly messy apartment, and then look into his eyes, "wouldn't having magic be fun, Jamie?" 

James frowns. You say it so innocently but he starts to wonder if you could know? It has been months.

He sits up, tilting his head at you. He's been wanting to tell you he's a wizard for a while now, plus James wouldn't admit this out loud yet but he knows he wants to marry you and you deserve to know the truth before he asks you to spend your life with him, don't you? 

"Y/n," he whispers but you interrupt him. 

"And I mean, flying on a broom! How silly! Can't you just imagine it?" 

James smiles, completely endeared, "Yeah, I can," he tucks some hair behind your ear and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out his wallet and you stare at him confused as he holds out a folded old polaroid. He hands it to you.

"What's this?" you ask curiously, crossing your legs.

At first, it looks like a simple picture of a group of boys. There are four of them and they look around sixteen if you had to guess. The tallest has his arms crossed and he's standing in the middle as the boy to his right, a shorter boy with long dark hair, has his arm swung around him. A short, stout boy looks timidly at the camera next to the taller one and next to him, what looks like a young James is happily grinning and holding up a fancy looking broom in triumph. James and the longer-haired boy are dressed in a maroon and yellow sports uniform while the other boys are dressed in simple school uniforms. 

The picture seems relatively normal for a second until it starts to move. James in the picture lifts the broom and the long-haired boy continues to hug the taller one. You gasp, dropping the picture onto the couch and it flutters to the back where you see written, "Prongs, Wormtail, Moony, and Padfoot, Hogwarts 1976."

"What the hell?" you whisper, voice breaking, and you think you must be imagining things. You look up at James, who is staring at you intently. "James? W-why did that polaroid just move?" you ask and James's stare softens. 

He picks up the polaroid and smiles, he shows it to you again. "That's me and my best friends at school," he says but when he looks at you, his smile falters. You look terrified, "Love, it's okay it's just a picture."

"No, it isn't. It's moving!" you say, leaning away from him a little.

James's chest tightens. "I know," he says seriously, "Promise not to panic, okay? But, I'm a wizard." 

He says it so calmly you're silent for a moment until you start to laugh. You laugh so hard tears brim in your eyes and James is concerned.

He holds your cheeks in his hands. "No, Y/n, I mean it. I'm a wizard," he stands and walks to his jean-jacket hanging in the entrance. He pulls out his wand and points it at you.

You look scared again when he mutters an unfamiliar word and suddenly, you feel a drizzle of snow fall over your shoulders and unless your ceiling disappeared and it's snowing in July, you know it has to be James. 

You let out a shriek and cover your mouth as your eyes widen. James lowers his wand and rushes over, the snow disappearing. "It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you, lovie," he pauses and carefully sits next to you. He's relieved when don't scoot away from him, "I couldn't keep this from you anymore. I love you. You deserve to know who I am."

You're looking at him intensely and you pick up the polaroid again, examining it closer. After a moment you look up and narrow your eyes. You press your index on where James is in the picture. "Why are you holding a broom?" you ask simply and James almost laughs. 

"Gryffindor had just won an important Quidditch match, I think."

"Gryff-what won what?"

"Um, my house- um. Quidditch it's a sport. Where you—um, ride a broom."

You look at him and James can't read your expression.

"You can fly on a broom?" you suddenly ask, sounding less nervous now. You look at the picture and then you crack a smile. "You do look cute all dressed up," you put the polaroid near his ear, almost as if you're making sure the boy in the picture is actually James.

Your boyfriend nods and looks at you wearily, biting his lip. He has so much he wants to say. "So, have you always been a witch—" you ask.

"Wizard," he interrupts but you ignore him.

"—or did some creepy troll turn you into one? Oh my, are you the only witch to exist?" you sound almost excited now.

"Wizard," James says and then takes the picture from your hand and holds yours in his. "And no. I'm not. All my friends and family are. You believe me, yeah?"

You think for a moment. "Yeah," you shrug, looking up at the ceiling and then the wand in James's other hand, "you did make it snow, didn't you?" your smile widens and you point at his wand as you say, "Can you make it snow again! Or show me another spell. Please?"

James hesitates but when he sees a small scab on your hand from where you'd cut yourself earlier, he mutters a spell he knows by heart from all the Quidditch tumbles he's had and the wound suddenly disappears. 

Your eyes widen and you hold up your palm awkwardly. You look where the scab had been, mesmerized as you run your fingers over the now, non-existent, wound. 

"I know this is a lot for you to understand now, lovie. But, I want to explain everything. Anything you want to know," he says seriously and you look back up at him. 

You ask question after question, the reality of the situation becoming even more intense as you hear stories from his school and how unfamiliar he had been about "muggles" until he'd met his ex-girlfriend and then, well, you. 

"So, wait, witches and wizards exist and we– muggles? –just don't know?" you say after his little speech and James nods. He's sitting criss-cross in front of you on your couch and he's running his thumb over your hand, hoping his gesture is reassuring. You look confused, "Aren't you gonna get in trouble with the—"

"Ministry of Magic for telling you?" James finishes, understanding what you're trying to ask him.

You nod. 

James shakes his head and looks into your eyes. "No, because I didn't just tell anyone. You aren't some random person on the street, lovie. You're my girlfriend and I love you. I'm glad you know," he kisses your forehead quickly and you lean up to catch his lips. 

"I'm glad I know too," you smile and caress his cheek. It's your way of showing him you don't see him any differently. You turn to the polaroid picture still in your lap and pick it up. "I can't wait to meet more of your wizard friends now," you smile. 

James smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. "You already have, darling," he says. 

You look closer at the picture and your eyes widen, "No way!" you exclaim looking up at James in disbelief as you start to recognize two of the other boys in the picture. "Remy and Siri too?!"

James chuckles and nods. You turn the polaroid over again and look at the names scribbled in ink. "Then what's up with the weird nicknames? Prongs? Is that you?" you deduce from the order. 

James hums and kisses your temple as he pulls you in closer.

"Why Prongs?" you ask, pointing both your index fingers and putting them on your head, "like little devil horns? Or a fork?" you giggle at the last suggestion and James is entirely enchanted by you. 

He looks at you fondly and chuckles, "Like stag antlers, lovie."

"Why?"

"Because I can turn into a stag, if I wanted to," James explains slowly, realizing he'd forgotten to mention that tiny detail.

"You WhAT?!"

[ctheathy]

The Claim of an Operational Sin

Claude Frollo x Reader

Suggestive Oneshot

Is this damn priest dilf energy or nah

Author's note: Have you ever disliked a villain so much you wanted to hate breed them and make them your bitch? Read this, cuz you can :)

You're one of the few ladies the tyrannical man has taken interest in. Something he'd refer to as being bewitched by those who are innocent. Intrigue driven by his own lustful desires similar to his captivation by the beautiful dancer, Esmeralda. But unlike her, you were certainly not as lucky preventing your imprisonment and attempting to escape the minister's grasp.

Frollo/Reader [Romantic Tendencies(???)]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

!Female Reader! • Seductive/“Succubus” reader • Imprisoned reader • We're basically gonna be assaulting him WOOHOO • Threats • Reader is unfearful of death • Arousal • Teasing, but it's bordering on degradation • Desperation • Drooling/Salivating • Kissing • ...Leaking...iykyk • He's an old man who's never satisfied his primal desires, what did you expect • This entire fic and concept in general is TW worthy tbh-

I REGRET NOTHING ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“...You are a bloody!” Frollo spoke sharply. Taking a deep breath as he looked at you with a bitter gaze. His eyes were cold now, a sour expression on his face. His eyebrows were raised, as if he was trying to control his anger. He was currently in front of you in one of the many dungeon cells underneath the Notre Dame. “... How long do you think you're going to be alive? If you keep acting like this.” He said, sounding almost like he was threatening you.

And despite his subtle warnings, you kept your time in the cell undisturbed, paying no mind to his little hissy fit. To the point it looked like you were straight up ignoring him, which only fueled his already angered state. Demanding you to not even think of not listening to him whenever he spoke. But in all honesty, his constant irritation was just getting you more entertained by the man. It was like watching a child throw a tantrum. Well. You were more than ready to show him that he picked the wrong lady. That your abduction was an easily regrettable decision for him. He was stuck here with you, not the other way around.

Grinning with anticipation, you leaned against the wall with a careless posture. You couldn't care less about what series of threats he had to offer. “Mhmm? Won't that something you should be worrying about as well? Lusting after women and harassing them for centuries can cause for quite the revolution, if I may” you were sneering with sarcasm. “The most recent victim has certainly been influential. Miss Esmeralda, was it? It’s difficult to control yourself, isn’t it~?” you mocked

“... Silence yourself!” He yelled in a half-angry, half-desperately demanding tone, something that noticeably made you laugh out loud. Frollo felt a hit of shame and embarrassment by the fact that you've taken note of him lusting after her. It was a sin ...he wasn't supposed to feel this way. And it was that gypsy who has bewitched him! Tainting his purity with her alluring words and movements. At least, in the minister's head it was, blaming a fairly innocent soul for his own shameful and unholy impulses.

“Many peasants have faced the consequences of the witches’ actions through either custody or death. So choose your words carefully.” trying to warn you and keep you in line, but your reaction would be ...unexpected. “So what? Everybody will die one day.” You glanced back up to the priest and cocked your head to the side. “Perhaps nature shall take its course in the next future for me too. Who knows? Which would be beyond fine with me” you murmured with yet another chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “But atleast now you still have somebody to turn to, wouldn't you say?” He noticed you sending him a wink of mockery, but was too baffled by your sudden statement.

The eyes of the minister widened, as he heard you say that. “You... You don't value your people's freedom. You... You don't care about your own existence." He gritted his teeth. You could practically see his temper exploding. He never understood how somebody could be so unflappable towards the idea of their own very demise. He felt like he had no control over you, which infuriated him greatly. Though you remained in a calm posture, a look of disinterest in your eyes as he felt the need to mention it. “Look," you began with a bit of attitude, unconcerned about how far you might be pushing him over the edge with your next few words.

“Don't treat your lustful motives as superior over what I lack. Eventually, natural selection shall take its course for all of us anyway. And I'll greet it with open arms as soon as the time comes” you half assed with a small smirk. But Frollo? He did not like that one bit, seething with rage as he snapped

“You don't care if nature takes its course, huh!? Well, I will be the one to take its course, if you will not! I am going to give it my best to make you suffer. I shall tear you down with my own hands.”

You took in his words, as your grin slowly started to expand a little the more he went into detail about his description of how exactly he was gonna take your life. You softly chuckled at his threat, hanging your head down as your hair was resting over your eyes, covering them up as you continued to giggle with pure amusement. “Awh..~” you glanced up at the man once again, some of your teeth exposed with your grin as your eyes were smugly half lid. You readjusted your hand as you gently, yet firmly grabbed him by the jawline, placing your thumb right under his chin as you pressed his skin. “It is truly adorable how undeniably obsessed you are with me. Do you clop to the idea of hurting me too?”

You curled up your index finger as it caressed Frollo on his cheek, your little smirk becoming smaller, but still being very visible nonetheless. “I'm quite flattered, my sweet~” your prying eyes were full of glee as you fluttered your lashes, attracting the man even further if that was even possible. You took a step even closer towards him, your chest almost pressed onto him as you got further into his personal space, so inviting...

And oh dear God. Everything you just said... Your smirk, your stance. It didn't take a genius to figure out that you were attempting to seduce him. You were trying to provoke him. And it was working. “H-hngh..!?” Frollo's breathing grew shallow. Every muscle in his body was starting to tighten in exasperation. He was shaking in anger. That's right. He was angry- so unbelievably, extraordinarily angry. But, he was also... Tempted.

And though his body was noticeably still somewhat stiff, you did not miss him beginning to melt into your touch, despite the obvious death stare in his eyes. He was so easily affected and getting worked up by your shenanigans, it was almost cute. Almost. You smirked to yourself as your soft fingers continued to tease his facial features. You were completely leaning into him at this point, both breasts squished onto him as you kept the eye contact with assertion.

Your free hand even wandered over towards the back of his neck, your fingers gently digging into his spine as you rubbed them up and down, but slowly beginning to add more pressure. “You seem to be making yourself comfortable with me quite swiftly, minister...” you stood on your toes to add on height and match his level, “Is that something you enjoy? Making quick development instead of taking things slowly~?” Frollo's heart literally started beating faster. The way you were saying these things. It was so very seductive. And your finger that was caressing him? You... A-Ah...

“H-How dare you!” His tone sounded so frustrated, like he was trying to hide something. Something he wouldn't want you to find out. You could practically see the rage in his eyes, but the way you spoke? And the way you got so close to him, you could practically feel his anger, his resentment, slowly melt away. His head started to turn red, as he gritted his teeth. He really couldn't take it, you had completely caught him in your trap. And you did that so... effortlessly.

It made him feel weak and submissive, a foreign feeling to the priest. You were completely dominating him. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. You made him vulnerable. You got into his... frozen and rock cold heart. You were in control now, and he was just so very powerless to your charms. His entire body was beginning to tremble. His breathing, it was slowly getting quicker and more shallow. It almost felt- the way you touched him, with such delicate care. The way you were teasing him like this. His entire body was starting to feel so hot. He felt the blood surging, pumping him up, preparing him for something he didn't dare to acknowledge.

And being less vigilant, he admitted to his thoughts much more easily. “It... astonishes me... when you... make me lose control” He said, the tone in his voice being a mix of anger and lust. Of desire. Of passion. Words that you hadn't really expected. You'd never guessed for a response like this. It was so sensual. He was clearly losing control now. The way he had just admitted to you that he was enjoying this? It felt as if he was a man on a chain. And you were the one holding it.

This was not supposed to be happening. Not like this. Frollo was... He was tempted. He was extremely tempted. He did not want to be tempted! He did not want to be lured by your feminine allure and your seducing gestures! Why. Why were you seducing him!? He was supposed to kill you, not fall for your antics dammit! He was literally getting flustered now, much to his embarrassment. And the way you pressed your body against his, as if trying to get as close as physically possible? It was really, REALLY making him nervous.

“Don't... you even DARE ...think that I am enjoying this! I... I am simply attempting to ...to” he began to trail off, unable to even think straight. And the more he was trying to desperately deny your claims, the more amused you became with the show. Without warning, you took another step forward and pressed your hips against him... pinning him with one of your thighs. Both of your bodies rubbing on one another as you adjusted your position again. Wanting to see just how hollow his words actually were.

And now he was definitely flustered. And you could tell. His breathing hastened, and he was literally going bright red. Frollo was trembling. And the fact that you could sense just how aroused he was, just made it worse. Because... Your intimate areas were rubbing against his, and there was not a single inch of space between the two of you. “S-Stop... this, you... Y-You witch..!”

His eyes widened as soon as you stepped into him further. You were just getting as intimate as could be. Your thighs and hips were rubbing against him. And it was making him... He was literally drooling now. Frollo was speechless. And he literally was making a mess out of himself. Like... He looked like a fool! One of the most dangerous people in the country, was... drooling... His mouth was open slightly, looking like he was going to say something. But instead, he closed his mouth shut again, and looked almost ashamed. As if he had been caught doing something humiliating.

Your eyes just lit up at the sight while you showed off your teeth with a shit-eating grin, confirming how amused you were by the situation. You tried making yourself even taller than before, as if trying to take away his confidence height-wise as well. You were having this heart-to-heart exchange with him face to face. Your face now literal millimetres away from his, intimidating.

But then you did something that caught him off guard, as you licked off the saliva that was dribbling down his mouth. Your tongue firstly stroking his spit-covered chin before seductively brushing it up to the crook of his mouth where the running drool started. But your tongue quickly wandered to his upper lip, sending a shock right through his veins. Your warm and sweet tongue began teasingly brushing left and right over the entrance of his lips, attempting to pry them open for a good three seconds before pulling back. You glanced at him right in the eye again, a cheeky glint in your eyes. “Aww, you poor man~ He almost spilled..~ Are you actually gonna soil yourself in front of me?” you purred with a tease.

As soon as you started licking the drool off of his lips, He got an electrical shock. A wave of pure nervousness and tingles running down his veins. The blush on his cheeks was getting redder, and you could hear his heartbeat. The saliva that was dropped, got licked up by you. You were staring at him so seductively. A warm, sweet feeling, of just pure ecstasy was flowing through his body.

And the way you were so close to him. You really were an actual princess. Or the queen of sin, rather. He looked like he was about to just collapse. Frollo... His wide eyes were now looking at your lips when you pulled back, and you could see the desire in them. And when you licked the saliva from his lips... He almost- almost let out a moan. He was literally about to melt away.

The priest's entire face flushed a deep, deep red. His blush was... it was so obvious to you, along with the fact that he was salivating at this. But the fact that you licked it off...? You could practically see his entire world begin to break down, right after that. You didn't just break his walls down. You obliterated them. He didn't know what to say. You were just... Ah, God. so, so cruel.

The way you did just that. The way you licked it. It was... Oh, heavens. You would be an absolute demon in bed. He blinked, shaking his head and basically still drooling all over himself. Damn it. What in the world.

“You... You b-bitc-... Yo-... wh-” He couldn't get a word out. He was too stunned. All of the blood in his body seemed to be rushing down to his cheeks at once. And he could feel a warm liquid start to soak into his undergarments. Yes. That thing, the thing that he desperately didn't want to get hard. He clenched his jaws shut, as he started to sweat. He didn't know how to react or respond. You were playing with him at this point. You could practically see the steam rising off of his head. And he could feel the liquid seeping into his cloth.

This whole situation was just mortifying to Frollo, both for his reputation and pride. He tried to take a step back, but he was getting too caught up in his own... reaction, to realize he had his back pressed against the wall in here. He could feel his breathing getting heavier. And just his reaction of shock was more than enough to keep you going, as your hand clung to the back of his neck, your fingertips digging into his flesh again. “I can’t help but wonder what other places are getting hot and moist for me” you purred with a mischievous chuckle, leaning in close to his face once again.

“I recommend you stay in line” you murmured with a sense of warning as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, the tip of your canine pressing into it. Your hot and damp tongue came in contact with it as you pressed it against his parted lips, teasingly tracing it against the entrance of his lips but never actually going inside his mouth... Smearing your saliva over the base of his lips, while you seductively sucked his bottom lip, just watching how long he could keep it up before losing his sense of self control

His body was quaking. His frame was like a leaf in the wind. He was being absolutely manhandled. The way you nibbled his lip, you were making his legs go weak. There were no words. There were just... sounds. Sounds coming from his throat, as the heat and moisture inside him really began to build up. The way you continued to use your tongue. The way you continued to play with his lip like a cat with a ball of yarn. It felt like this was never going to end. And he... his moans. You could hear his voice. Those soft moans, that were only for you to hear. He was losing focus, and he did not care. His body getting wet. And it was all your fault. You were doing this to him. You were teasing him, playing with him like a puppeteer.

His lips were now opening up for you. His mouth inviting. Something which made your eyes darken with glee as you got the ultimate invitation from him. Not hesitating for any second thoughts. Your tongue slowly wandered in and began brushing against his inner lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having your tongue deep into the back of his mouth. You pressed it in further, going slightly deeper as you rubbed your tongue against his gum tissue. Before reaching the inferior labial frenulum, as you teasingly slid your tongue over it. And that... that was an especially loud moan, coming from a person like Frollo, who's usually calculated and reserved. Reserved on that level, as it was clear he was enjoying this right now.

He was being completely seduced and he didn't care. His vocal groans were beginning to fill the room. The way your tongue was exploring his mouth... It was sending shivers down his spine. His eyes widening as he felt himself start to become damp. Your hand, wrapped around the back of his neck with your fingers pressing into his flesh. He liked how you were being so rough and so dominating at the moment. But your comment, about his other... moistened areas. He felt a hot liquid rushing through his body as he thought about it, as if he was being cooked alive.

He was just completely, utterly, and miserably lost in you. His eyes were staring at yours, with that warm glaze of lustful desire. And he was letting his inner demons play with his soul. They weren't being suppressed anymore. They were getting out, completely free. He was struggling to keep himself from just giving into you. He was almost tempted to just... get on the bed, and invite you on top of him. His lips were now completely split apart. His mouth was inviting you to go in deeper. To do whatever you pleased. The tip of his tongue was inviting you. And you could practically taste his wet tongue. His breath was starting to falter. The way you rubbed against his gums, the movement was so perfect and experienced. Frollo's entire body felt hot and wet. And it was making him want more. So much more.....

You could definitely tell he was getting desperate. His tongue eagerly and impatiently begging for it to intertwine with yours. He wanted your tongue at the back of his throat... And feeling eager, he desperately began to lick at you, desperate to taste you. And wanting to feed into that desperation, you began moving your tongue up and down, making the tip of his tongue rub over yours. Right before your tongue began wandering, slipping it flat on top of his. You slowly began pressing your tongue to the back of his throat, using his tongue as a guide as you slid it down to his tonsils, rubbing them. Sometimes pulling back for just a few seconds before teasingly sliding it down again, keeping him needy for more.

He was practically begging for it by now. His mouth was literally begging for your tongue to get deeper. But you were just teasing him so hard, and that's what was making this so hot. The way your tongue was moving, it was like a damn tongue dance. And you were playing the damn instrument that was his mouth perfectly. Teasing his tongue, nibbing at it and just being absolutely filthy with him. His mouth was just yours now.

You were literally eating him, was the only thing Frollo could think. He couldn't help but groan out as soon as your tongue went deeper inside his mouth, sliding alongside his own tongue. Your warm, wet tongue was rubbing against the sensitive skin in there, and you were teasing his mouth. You were making him melt. You were... making him weak. His neck and back started to arch involuntarily. The way you slid it down his throat as it touched his tonsils... The priest's body was starting to jerk. His eyes went blank, as he let out moans and gasps. It felt like you were controlling his mind and body, and that only made him feel even more desperate and in need of you.

Frollo was in a trance, practically. You were just so tempting. So delicious. His voice was turning into pure moans as he opened his mouth, letting out the sound of a beg. It was as if he was trying to say he wanted it. That this was what he wanted. His jaw was opened, his hands were hanging limp besides his body, behaving so submissively. The minister, who had been feared by everybody around him, was just completely done for.

You pulled back for a bit, as he moaned out in relief. A string of saliva now connecting your tongue with his mouth. “Don't go rabid on me now. You've been wanting this for a long, long time, hmm?” you teased him as one of your hands travelled towards his chin, before you started pressing your thumb into his mouth. You pressed your finger on his tongue, sliding it further to the back of his throat, threatening to make him gag if he disobeyed and forcing his jaw open even further. “Be a big boy and open up wide for me..~” you purred with a sadistic giggle, tempting him by sticking out your tongue.

There was no way out of this. His expression now completely rearranged from frustrated, to a look which was flaring with excitement. He was literally sweating. In one move, you had basically turned him from an egotistical man, into your own personal toy at your disposal. You owned him. Even when he got some of his control back when you moved your mouth away from him, he didn't wanna stop what you were doing. He was just hopelessly addicted to you, His brain was you. Nothing BUT you.

“You're playing under my rules now, minister.”

And he was just another piece of your collection to satisfy your needs.

[lovebugism]

punchy x steve with "Why aren't we making out yet? We're 5 minutes into an argument, 5 minutes! Goodness."

thank u for requesting! :D — steve gets angry with you sometimes, but he'll never turn down an opportunity to kiss you (punchy/steve universe, angst-ish, mostly fluff, 0.8k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

He’s so cute.

Yeah, he’s mad at you and everything, but you can’t get over how adorable he looks.

His scruffy jaw is clenched tight, and there’s a subtle furrow between his bushy brows, and his pink lips are gently pouted. His honey eyes are twinkling too — with anger, maybe, but they’re twinkling at you nonetheless.

With his sweatshirt pushed up to his elbows and his hands on his hips, how are you supposed to do anything but melt for him?

“Okay, Steve,” you huff, interjecting his longwinded rant. You cross your arms over your chest and sink further into the couch while he paces ahead of you. “I know you’re pissed at me, but—”

“Oh, that doesn’t even start to describe it,” he scoffs. His laugh verges on bitter.

“I know that.”

“I mean— I have no words.”

“Is that why you haven’t stopped bitching at me since we got home?”

He stops his pacing to gape at you. “Bitching at you?” he repeats with an incredulous gape on his pretty face. “Seriously? That’s what you think this is?”

You sigh at yourself and drop your head to the back of the couch. You don’t know how to stop saying the wrong thing. You just want him to be upset with you and be done with it, ‘cause if he doesn’t kiss you stupid soon, you’re scared you might die.

“I didn’t do anything wrong— I don’t know what you want from me!”

His brows pinch together. His pretty face swirls with hurt. 

You shrink under the suffocating weight of his obvious heartache. 

“This stuff is really important to me, babe,” Steve tells you softly, voice light and nearly breaking. “And it’s like you’re just shitting all over it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t wanna spend my Friday night with everyone who bullied me in high school.”

“Oh, don’t play that card,” he scoffs bitterly. 

You feel the weight of his words in your chest. Like he’s taken your heart between his fingers and squeezed all the life out of it. You try not to let it hurt you. His insensitivity isn’t your fault. 

“This isn’t about them, alright? It’s a big deal for me, but you’re deciding your pride is more important.”

You huff like a dramatic teenager.

Steve laughs in response, but there’s little emotion behind it. “What? Am I annoying you now?”

“Can you just kiss me?” you blurt before you mean to.

He falters. Your plea comes out of left field, makes him forget to be angry at you for a blink of a second. “...What?”

“You can keep yelling at me after, I promise. I just wanna kiss,” you confess, features soft and squishy around the edges — filled with adoration. Your eyes sparkle when they blink up at him, with the hope that he might give in and give you the loving you need.

Steve still wants to be mad at you. He’s too stubborn for anything else. You make it real hard, but he tries to be proud about it anyway. “Why?” he presses and crosses two golden arms over his chest.

“‘Cause we’ve been arguing for five whole minutes, and we aren’t making it out yet,” you answer, voice as soft and sheepish as a child’s. You pick at the fuzz of your sweater and try hard to meet his gaze. “I think it’s gotta be some kinda record at this point.”

Steve doesn’t know how to do anything but be obsessed with you. From the arches of your eyelids, to the base of your neck, to the pudge of your tummy, to the chipped polish on your toes. Your beauty bewitches him. Surely, you must be some kind of witch.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

You beam up at him, smiling so hard that it makes it hard to kiss him back. He leans down and props his weight on two hands along the back of the couch, one on either side of you. You tilt your head back in wait for his mouth. 

Steve gives you one fleeting peck — a subtle smacking of his lips to yours that he plans to tease you with after. He’ll pull back, and you’ll pout about it. “One more, Stevie, pleaseee?” you’ll drag out in that pretty voice of yours. And he’ll give you one, but only after hearing you beg a little bit more.

He ends up being the needier one, which maybe shouldn’t surprise him. One peck quickly turns into another. Then a third, lingering and languid thing after he hopelessly melts into you.

You’re the one that ultimately pulls back, lips shining and obviously well-kissed. His knees shake when you smile at him. “Okay. You can go back to being mad at me now.”

Steve shakes his head immediately. 

His tongue darts out to swipe along his rosy bottom lip. His eyes dart from your glimmering gaze to your rose-petaled mouth. “I can be mad at you later,” he insists, the warm breath of his softly spoken words brushing your chin. “Now, I just wanna kiss the life outta you.”

[etherealily]

​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇪​ // 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘪 𝘷𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘺

Alexei Vronsky + fem!reader

Warnings : Cuss words.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

'Cross that line for me, sweetheart?'

Desc. : You are not a temptress, but he is tempted.

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

It was curious, to say the least, how land was divided. The conch next to you was half your property and half the Vronsky estate's property. It had remained that way for ages.

The waves lapped up the sand, like a heart reaching desperately for its other half as you sat watching the entire ordeal.

The Line - one drawn up every morning and marked by tiny flags as placeholders - had always pissed you off. Intrigued you. What would happen if you were to... just a finger? The hem of your dress. Would you immediately be shot at by concealed snipers? Perhaps you'd have to be tried in court.

You had never really noticed much about this Vronsky character before. Another handsome, manipulative bastard. Nothing much.

In turn, he'd also never noticed you. A face. One of many. Beautiful, of course, he was not blind, but never seen as worthy of his efforts. You were not rebellious. You were not adorably innocent. He could not entice you. He could not corrupt you.

In theory, your paths were never to cross. Different lives, same circles.

The key word : theory.

Because there are moments in life when you know that nothing will ever be the same again, when you know that your proverbial pathway is forever skewed and rerouted. These may appear to you embossed in calamities such as loss and grief, or these may be whispered in your ear by silent smiles, lovestruck looks across a ballroom, or the simple offer of champagne.

Or, in the case of you and Alexei Vronsky, all of the above.

And this was one of those torturous, life-altering moments.

"-And that's when I said, it was just a bloody goat !"

Booming, drunken laughter ensued from your left - the other side of the Line. Fuck. Keep drawing, shut up, keep drawing, shut up.

Your pencil made unintelligible sounds as it scratched out a somewhat passable depiction of the moonlit waves. The screams and guffaws grew louder, but the issue was that if you moved, he'd assume you did it because you were on his side. You were not, but it would look highly suspicious if you fled.

No. They'd quietened down. Meaning either they left - highly unlikely - or, they'd noticed you.

"Oi!"

Don't respond, don't respond.

"You! Pretty girl!"

Drunk men are terrifying. How could such kind words be said in a way that made your skin crawl?

"Mate, maybe she's a mute. Or deaf. Or both."

"I know for a fact she's not. She's got quite a mouth on her, as I can remember from last year- HEY! LADY WITH THE SKETCHBOOK!"

And that was Alexei Vronsky. His story with the goat had ended, apparently. Ugh.

You turned. "Uh, hello."

"ARE YOU A MUTE?" his companion yelled.

"Are you daft? She just answered! How could she be mute?"

Drunk men are also idiotic.

"WHY DON'T YOU COME ON OVER HERE, WE'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO DRAW?"

Bellowing laughter followed.

For fuck's sake.

"I'm alright, THANKS!"

"OI, C'MON! WE DON'T BITE!"

From what you'd heard, he does.

"IS IT 'CAUSE OF THAT LINE?"

"Good night, Count Vronsky.", you called back, as you gathered up your things and stood, dusting the sand off your dress.

"HOLD ON! WAIT!"

"Let'r go, mate, c'mon, we've got a party to get back to."

"I WAS JUST BEING NEIGHBOURLY, YOU BITCH!"

FUCKING HELL.

"What did you just call me?!", you yelled, turning. He looked back at you in a swaying, inebriated haze, trying to focus those glaciers he called eyes on yours in the darkness.

"A witch. You've cast a spell on me, bewitched me, so to speak. You're magic."

Ugh. "Whatever."

"Just come over here, or I'll have to come there, and you wouldn't like that.", he slurred, his friends chortling and egging him on.

Buggering Christ.

"You can't. See?", you replied defiantly, pointing deliberately at the faint white outline of the line they renewed every morning with chalk powder. "That would be trespassing."

"I'm Alexei Vronsky."

What was that supposed to mean?

"So? It's still trespassing. My family's had it in for you for a long time - we'll take you to court."

"Then you come here.", he shrugged, taking an unstable stumble closer. "Cross that line for me, sweetheart? Yeah?"

"You're a creep. And you're drunk."

"You're a beauty. And you're technically trespassing, so I need to punish you."

"HOW am I-"

"Your pencil." Fuck. How is it he's sober enough to notice that, but not sober enough to know that his buddy said 'the coat storage' not 'the goat story'?

"It blew in the wind."

"Yes. To my estate."

"You can keep it."

"Are you sure? Isn't this your, uh, fabulous pencil from Paris you were talking of?"

"No." Yes.

"No?", he frowned, picking it up. NO! Not in his grimy, disgustingly delicate fingers. "Seems pretty French to me."

"Are you actually inebriated or do you simply enjoy pretending to be so that you can get away with things?"

He stopped swaying, pointing the pencil in your direction as he placed the other hand behind his back. "You're sharp."

"So you're sober?"

Drunk Vronsky could have been molded. Sober Vronsky was a cunt.

"More or less. My friends feel left out because they are unable to hold their liquor as well as I can, so I act for them.", he explained, with a small look behind him, at his comrades trying to jump over the waves as they came.

"You should be in theatre, then."

"Adding performer to my resume is just a smidge too over-accomplished.", he retorted, an amused glint in his eye.

Ugh.

"So you're going to hold on to my pencil, then, I'm guessing."

"What? No, I know how much this means to you."

Trap. You'd bet your entire estate it was a trap.

"I will give it back.", he continued as he paced, his hand still placed behind his back as though he were planning war strategies. "On one condition."

See? Trap.

"Dinner. With me. Tomorrow."

Did he think this was a smart way to secure an evening with a woman?

"I won't be here tomorrow." Bold-faced lie, and he could tell.

"Then tonight. Right now." You couldn't think of anything you were doing.

"And I'll get my pencil back."

"Yes."

"That can't be it. There's a catch."

"You are... remarkable. Yes. There is.", he whispered, softly, as though impressed that you caught on. "Champagne. I wish to see you drunk. Drunk, in denial and... ruined."

Lot of darkness for someone who'd just been talking about a goat.

"In denial?"

"Nothing. Just... join me for dinner and drink a little, and I promise you shall have your pencil back."

"I do not drink."

"Then I do not return fancy French pencils."

"I can always purchase another."

"You do not have sentimentality, then?"

"No." Yes.

"I see. Then you may be on your way."

"I don't have to go anywhere. I have every right to be here! This is still my side of The Line."

"Suit yourself, darling."

The silence that followed was torturous and unbearable. "I do not like steak."

"Then you shall have no steak."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

His eyes focused on you from across the table, his spoon paused midway above his plate. Eyes like the ocean in a storm. Terrifying but alluring.

"Enjoying your not-steak?"

You hid a smile. "Yes, I am."

He nodded, bringing his spoon up to his lips as he watched you do the same.

"You've left your friends out there?"

"They know not to cross The Line. They will be alright."

"Why is it you wanted to have dinner with me? To trap me into trespassing?"

"I've wanted to speak with you since I first saw you." Lie.

"And I you." Lie.

"What was it you wished to say?"

"Simply a greeting. You?"

"The same."

He set down his spoon, scrunching up his napkin as he stood up and walked the short distance across the table to you, resting his hands on the back of your chair. "You promised you'd drink."

"I did?"

"You did.", he whispers, accepting the newly-uncorked bottle the servant handed him, and pouring it into the glass next to your plate, smoothly. "And you're a good girl who keeps promises, yes?"

You'd heard he loved using such degrading language, but this was the first time you'd seen it firsthand.

"What gave you that idea?"

"I just figured you were of proper breeding and were raised right."

Good answer.

"Well, the words 'I promise' never left my mouth."

"Well-bred women do not look for loopholes. And they most certainly do not argue."

Lord knows where he'd worked up the audacity to brush some hair off your shoulder, but perhaps he was born with it imbibed in his blood.

He narrowed his eyes at your unchanging expression. "Drink."

"I am not done with my food."

He breathes out loudly, taking your plate and thrusting it into the hands of the nearest servant. "Yes, you are."

"I still have dessert."

"No, you don't. Drink."

"This is not champagne. You said champagne."

"And you said you'd drink. We both have uttered falsities. Drink."

"I fear you may be trying to-"

"Poison you? I am not. I would not like to see you die."

Was that supposed to be some form of assurance? Romantic? Caring? That did not have the intended effect.

"Drink, lovely."

It irked you how invested he was to see you drunk.

You wrapped your fingers around the glass, bringing it to your lips. Tilting it upwards, you let the liquor cascade down your throat, and echoes of your sputtering filled the room - it burned.

He laughed heartily, shaking his head as he stroked your shoulder from behind you. "Do you know what that was?"

"No. But I do know I will not take another sip."

"It was vodka, my dear, and in a few moments, you will want more. Trust me."

"I'm not taking another sip of that ghastly liquid!"

"Not even for me? Not even if I begged?"

"You think your begging has any effect on me?"

"Doesn't it? I'm known to be quite persuasive, and- besides, aren't you supposed to be the empathetic one in the family?"

"And where did you hear that?"

"Just about everywhere, really.", he huffed, resting his elbow on the table as he knelt down by your side. "'Y/N is the nicest one. She cares the most. Empathetic.' Surely you are not telling me those are lies?"

"Not lies, but exaggerations, perhaps."

"I am quite literally on my knees, Y/N, and you should realize how rare that is. Drink more or I will have to force you."

You frowned at him.

"I will do it. Force you. Don't think that because I have let you in my house so courteously that I will continue to be a gentleman with you."

"How could you be? You're nothing but a cad.", you scoffed, as you took another stingingly painful gulp.

He watched the glass, your tongue, your throat, almost mesmerized as he replied. "A cad?", he questioned softly, amused but still fascinated by your every movement.

"A cad.", you nodded, trying not to show how much you were gasping for breath. It hurt, satisfyingly.

"That's a first. No one has ever said 'oh, Alexei Vronsky, that cad'.", he murmured against his palm as he observed you meticulously.

"Then they have met a different person."

"You say this out of personal experience, do you?"

"I've met him. The Alexei Vronsky. He only thinks of one thing."

A lilt of his lips. "And that is?"

"Himself."

He concealed a grin.

"Or perhaps...", he mused, fingertips on the back of your neck as though he were playing your skin as one would a piano. "He is one who shows different versions of himself to different people."

"So he is deceitful."

"I'd say careful."

"Would you, now?"

"I think we put up far too many false pretences anyway. No point in fighting it - it is necessary, to be part of society."

"And what false pretences am I putting up, in your expert opinion?"

He smiled, one too pure to match the description you had so harshly delivered a moment before, but you knew more than most that it was a ruse. "Drink more."

"You're an incredibly demanding man, aren't you? Dine with me. Drink more. Not a single please, nor thank you.", you retorted, as though that could take away from the fact that you obeyed.

"When you are incredibly in demand, you learn to be incredibly demanding."

If ever a smoother talker existed, you'd wager he'd simply be Alexei Vronsky in disguise.

"So tell me, then. Are you a gentleman, a cad, or an opportunist, Count Vronsky?"

You had to steer the conversation back to him, because whatever this vilely beguiling liquor was, it was shooting through your veins at a rate too fast to risk talking about yourself, lest any family secrets spilled out.

"I am whatever you want me to be. And you? Are the rumours true? Are you a virgin, a temptress, or a genius?"

"I am whatever I want to be. For tonight."

"Come morning?", he murmured against your neck as he slipped a finger under a loose strand of hair, and twirled it with such dedication you would think that were his only purpose in life.

"A memory."

"Well, we can't have that.", he pouted, as he stood up, gently taking the glass away from you and finishing the last of it. "What does it take for a memory to stay in the present?"

"Vronsky-"

"A dance, perhaps, as they say you enjoy?"

If you weren't unsure of the functionality of your motor skills in your drunken haze, you'd have punched him right then and there.

"The rumours aren't true, you know?"

"What rumours?", he asked, feigning obliviousness.

He'd just spoken of them, but you were quite sure if you reminded him, he'd attribute it to the vodka. Tell you you were 'surely imagining things, dear one'.

"The ones that led you to come and have a go at me."

"Those? Oh, I didn't believe them for a second.", he grinned, his eyes examining the filthiest, most remote parts of your soul - ones that even you had never been privy to.

A moment washed over the both of you, tauntingly. You looked for any secrets in his eyes, and he looked for any in yours, albeit, more calmly than you.

"Come.", he mumbled, finally, offering his hand for you to get up out of his disgustingly well-crafted chair. "Let's get you back on your side of The Line."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

"There. Oh, and here. I am of proper manners.", he added after you'd leapt over The Line, handing your pencil back over to you.

It felt oddly anticlimactic after the events of the evening.

His icy blue eyes - striking, so striking that they pierced you - fell onto your lips for just a moment before landing on the pencil in your hand. "You don't want it back."

"What? Of course I do."

He had you. He was onto you.

"Let me rephrase. You don't need it back."

"Sentimentality. Of course I do."

"You really don't want it to stay in my possession, instead?"

"No."

"Liar.", he smirked, his lips curving deliciously, and you just about lost it. "You know I'll take very good care of it, no? Like I took care of you, tonight. No complaints, yes?"

"Besides the aggressive persuasion to drink a fiery liquid that most probably burnt my throat off, no."

"You exaggerate. Tell me tonight was just another of your dull nights. Tell me I haven't been a source of reprieve from your tedious, mundane days of fakeness and gossip."

You scoffed, refusing to dignify that with a reply, although you already knew that any response- or lack thereof - would be all too telling.

"You cannot, can you?"

There was nothing you hated more than when men were right.

Especially men who were as captivating as Vronsky. It was unnecessary and dangerous.

He beamed, clearly so fucking proud of himself, as he looked out at the waves. "It is a lovely dress you are wearing."

No, it wasn't. It was the most commonplace of dresses one could wear. But he'd say it anyway. Because that was his play.

"Thank you."

"It is disgusting, though."

"In what way? A disgusting display of my wealth, or disgustingly lovely?"

He knelt down next to you from the other side, on the sand. "It is disgusting that such beauty and purity like yours can exist and people continue to slander its name."

Had you been a lesser woman, you'd have fallen for it.

It seemed, however, that he knew you wouldn't. It was confusing, to say the least, whether he was being genuine or being genuinely fake.

"It is how I live."

If you'd read him right, he should say something along the lines of...

"It shouldn't be."

There.

"However... the dress in itself is not disgusting?"

"No, it is spectacular- although, I must say, the woman wearing it is far more ravishing."

Games get boring when they are predictable.

"So. What is it you normally do after parties, since you cannot get drunk? Unless blackmailing women to dine with you and drink your vodka is your usual pastime."

He snickered, although a slight maliciousness infiltrated his gaze for a moment. "It isn't so much a pastime as... an unfortunately common occurence. Perhaps that's why you've got an opinion of me as a - how'd you put it?"

"A cad."

"Ah, yes, a cad. I wonder if your opinion has changed."

That was not hope in his eyes, no. That was a challenge. 'Go ahead, Y/N, say no. If you dare.', his look said.

"I wonder that, too. Perhaps it will if you keep your promise."

"Promise?", he repeated, raising a brow. He knew. He knew all too well what you were saying.

"False pretences.", you reminded, watching him as he watched the waves distort the light of the moon. "You said you would tell me what false pretences you think I put up."

He was far too close. The incredibly fragile, entirely imaginary Line wouldn't be able to stop him from reaching over and touching your shoulder once more.

"I think... do you want to know what I think?"

"I might."

"I think that you're lying when you brush off the rumours."

"You think I am a slut? A temptress?" Now, suddenly, the monotonous nature of everyday seemed far more interesting than the thousandth iteration of the same conversation.

"No, I think you brushing them off is the lie. They affect you far too much." Alright. That was... progress.

"Do they, now?"

"Very much. And there is one more, as well, although I doubt you will like to hear it. You crave to prove them right."

Congratulations, Alexei Vronsky, you've caught my attention.

"That is an extremely, extremely bold suggestion."

"Yet you are not denying it."

"I do not wish to have my virtue questioned, Vronsky, and us having dinner does not change that."

"But it pokes at it, does it not? A slight scratch, an itch, asking if that is what you really want. It blurred the lines, did it not?"

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

"You're an incredibly delusional man, Count Vronsky."

"A delusional cad."

"Precisely."

You didn't miss the amusement in his tone, the laughter, the way he knew how perfectly right he was.

"Well, this delusional cad did not lie, earlier. You truly have bewitched me, my dear, and I do not think I shall ever turn you down."

He stood up, dusting the sand off his gloves and pants. You stood up too, not out of respect, but out of the desire to relish his face once more.

"Turn me down?"

"When you inevitably ask for me when your marriage is dry, lifeless and torturous."

Good lord. How long had he been- how far ahead was he thinking?

"I will be right here. On this side."

"Why are you so adamant that my marriage will be-"

"Because I'm the one you need. You've broken quite literally every rule tonight. Crossed the line, fraternized with the enemy, drank unfamiliar alcohol that could so easily have been poisoned or used against you."

"How does that make you the one I-"

"I'm taking you out of your comfort zone. Freeing you. What more would one want from a lover?"

So casual with that word. Lover. As though that was all you two had been, since the beginning.

"Have I mentioned that you're-"

"Delusional? Yes, you have. But you have also yet to mean it."

Who the hell allowed this man to be so confident?

His thumb rubbed against your cheek in pure tenderness that you are well-prepared for - you've learnt over the years he's unpredictable, and since his mercurial nature was the only predictable thing about him, it was easy for you to guess his next move.

Or at least, figure out that it would be the exact opposite of the tone of his words.

"I can help you, you see?", he said, words so faint they were almost whisked away in the sea breeze. "Honest."

"Was that the point of tonight?"

"No, the point of tonight was to get you so utterly inebriated that you would tell me your family's secrets, and hence, your own."

That was the only thing that had come out of his mouth all night that you could guarantee was the truth.

"And since that did not happen, you are doing this?"

"No, I couldn't let that happen. Unwrapping you, figuring you out, it is far too intriguing a task to complete with a glass of vodka and enticing words. I want to spend years, decades, the rest of my life, performing this task, revealing you slowly and addictively, until I have lost myself or driven myself crazy trying to reach the core of your soul."

The silence kissed you two over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. "You are terrifyingly good at this."

He almost looked like he was about to say 'at what', but it seemed his mood had turned too serious to coax a half-hearted insult out of you.

"And you are terrifying. You are like the eye of a storm, intricately, almost... sinisterly drawing me closer."

"I'm not sure what you want me to-"

His lips devoured your words, and you could not help but think that this night had progressed far too rapidly to your liking. He was a stranger, a random man who you shared nothing but a flimsy little line with, but here you were, letting him kiss you, letting him ruin you, letting him convince you with his words that this was a good idea.

"Come on, darling.", he murmured against your lips, his eyes still half-lidded in a triumphant haze. "Cross the line. I promise, I'll take care of you."

You surrendered, and all you could do was hope that his beauty was simply angelic in nature, and was not designed for the sole purpose of ruining you and every iota of self-respect you had.

Hard to tell, but perhaps he had meant it that way.

[blasphemousclaw]

Do you think The Moons in Elden Ring only communicate with certain people?

It could explain how Count Ymir sees the Moon as just a Celestial Body and not a divine figure.

hmm that’s a good question; it does seem like Rennala, Rellana, and Ranni have a special affinity with the moon… I’m not sure that this is because the moon only communicates with them though, because I don’t believe the moon is a god, at least not in the same sense that the goddess of rot or the Formless Mother are gods?

Plenty of people draw power from the moon, including the Carian knights and preceptors (not just the royals), the sorcerers of the Lazuli Conspectus, the Nox, and perhaps Ranni’s mentor the Snow Witch… here the moon is used as a source of magic in the field of glintstone sorcery. There is a reason why glintstone sorceries and incantations are separate disciplines: sorceries are based on intelligence (study, research, self-discovery), and incantations are based on faith (belief in a higher power or force of nature). Lunar sorcery does not draw from faith like Bloodflame incantations or rot incantations do, which in my mind classifies it as a different sort of power than divine communion.

The way the moon is described in relation to Ranni, Rennala, and Rellana is that they “met” or “encountered” it:

“The young astrologer gazed at the night sky as she walked. She had always chased the stars every step of her journey. Then she met the full moon — and, in time, the astrologer became a queen.”

“This moon was encountered by a young Ranni, led by the hand of her mother, Rennala. What she beheld was cold, dark and veiled in occult mystery.”

“Queen Rennala encountered this enchanting moon when she was young, and later, it would bewitch the academy.”

“In her childhood, she and her elder sister Rennala met these moons. Overlapping, as though nestled against one another.”

But I’ve never interpreted this as a god selecting champions to enact its will, but more like a fateful discovery of a source of great power? Rennala and Rellana were astrologers, who read fate within the stars, when they encountered their moons… it seems to me that there’s an element of fate or destiny involved in connecting with the moon, but not necessarily personified divinity? I bet the Carian royals are like uniquely fated individuals… like how Sellen says “The stars alter the fate of the Carian royal family.” Also, Rennala’s description of chasing the stars and one day meeting the moon, and Ranni’s description of encountering the dark moon led by her mother’s hand also suggests to me a proactive arc of personal discovery and study rather than a god who chooses a person and communicates their divine will to them (such as the Formless Mother).

I think the reason why Count Ymir “abandoned his allegiance to the moon” because "It was merely the closest of the celestial bodies” is a combination of the fact that he doesn’t have this seemingly fated connection to the moon, and the fact that his interests go much further than the moon… he’s interested in the origins of life itself:

“I, too, am a glintstone sorcerer. We study the stars, and examine the life therein. Are you familiar with our findings? Long ago, we began as stardust, born of a great rupture far across the skies. We, too, are children of the Greater Will. Is that not divine? Is that not sublime? ...and yet, none can fathom its implications, its utter brilliance!”

and so is Sellen, who studies the primeval current:

“Our powers draw upon the powers embedded in glintstone, but what is the nature of such power? Glintstone is the amber of the cosmos, golden amber contains the remnants of ancient life and houses its vitality, while Glintstone contains residual life. And thus, the vitality of the stars. It should not be forgotten that glintstone sorcery is the study of the stars and the life therein.”

So I can understand why these characters would spurn the study of the moon as a trivial topic, instead exploring topics that get to the very heart of the nature of life and where we come from.

idk if I actually answered your question… I guess in a way, I believe the moon only communicates with certain people… but I think it’s more like, Rennala and Rellana, after tirelessly pursuing the knowledge of the stars, met the moon in a fated encounter and gained the ability to understand and tap into its power (and passed this on to Ranni), not that the moon is a sentient being that chooses champions to enact its will. Whether this still counts as being a god or being divine is up to personal interpretation I think, but the moon is at the very least a totally different sort of power than the confirmed outer gods we know of, and Ranni has a totally different sort of relationship to the moon than Mohg has to the Formless Mother.

[punk-in-docs]

🕸️ Pretty Girls Make Graves 🕸️

Eddie x Pencils - 🎃 Halloween 🎃one shot

2.7k words

Summary: pretty much what it says on the tin. Halloween one shot with our dearest Eddie x Pencils. Enjoy. Pure fluff. A tiny suggestion of smut at the end. Inspired by this lovely photo set & this prompt post that got me off my ass to write again.

Also another shoutout to the gorgeous @tvserie-s-world who made this amazing Eddie x Pencils edit that I’m still gooey over. 🖤

“So, what brings you to my dark and creepy neck of the woods?”Came a cocky taunt as soon as the trailer door swung open after your knock.

It’s usual rusty-screeching melody preceding its occupants flirty remark. The sound of the Smiths comes slithering out the creaking door behind him. The tape you bought that got lost in the avalanche of both your cassettes that slide and slip, congregate on his passenger seat.

He will not smile for anyone. And pretty girls make graves.

The lanky shadow of your boyfriend cuts across the warm yellow glow of the lights that slant out the doorway behind him. His costume makes you grin. Sheer moronic love.

You stood halfway up the steps. Candles flickering and throwing dozy pools orange in Jack-o-lanterns across the toes of your boots. They’re all wonky and have imperfect slanted mouths and jagged eyes. Loping together on the uneven porch steps. Fat orange gourds all drunk with gravity.

The very same pumpkins you’d helped him carve a week ago, after a misty morning weekend trip to Merill’s pumpkin farm. Eddie had the rather dastardly and determined habit of choosing pumpkins bigger and heavier than his actual van tires. You ended up with so many.

Your kitchen has smelt like squelchy pumpkin innards all week. You’re still finding seeds cropping up under the toaster or in the corner of the cabinets. As per Eddie’s way with most things, It wasn’t exactly a neat process.

You can’t help but laugh at his greeting too.

“I distinctly remember making plans to invade the spooky neck of your woods tonight, my little death trap.” You smile as you edge your way up the sloping steps. Holding a huge pumpkin shaped bucket of candy in your arms. The contents rustle as you move.

Everyone’s touting pumpkin buckets tonight. Driving in and even on the street back home, you saw a load of elementary kids walking around the park in their costumes. Ghosts in bedsheets. Aliens. Bats. One very ambitious papier maché pumpkin. Superhero’s. Clowns. Home made astronauts clad in crinkly tin foil and bulbous helmets. All wandering with an adult in tow and buckets clutched in their hands, ready to be filled.

You opted for a simple witch costume. Stripy tights and your dark thrifted docs. A black dress with a little cape tied around your shoulders and a witches hat. You applied dark purple-plum lipstick and dark smudgey grey eyeshadow, and liner. Your eyelids glitter like purple constellations. He finds stars to gaze at so often in those pretty eyes.

Eddie had gone for an Alice Cooper inspired look. Top hat. The dripping dark eye makeup that you’re amazed he managed all on his own. Hair it’s usual long rocker mess. Gothic black and lots of it. A huge goth belt with studs and buckles. You spy a cane grasped by his side too. A fake toy snake looped around his neck. Just like the man himself. He really does go all out.

The fringe benefit being he looks hot as hell to your eyes.

“You’ve got me under your spell, O’ bewitching one. How could I possibly resist.” He opened his arms out to you as you came to the last step.

“Bet you say that to every witch who shows up at your door on hallows eve.” You smile. Unashamedly grab the snake that’s looped around his neck and reel him in by it.

“Only ones who bought me jolly ranchers.” He preens. He can see the multi coloured hue of the wrapped candy in the huge bowl you’re carrying.

At the same time, he plucks the flimsy pointed witches hat off your head so the brim doesn’t get in his way. You unconsciously move towards the same goal together. It’s spooky. Sometimes it’s like you have the same brain. You’re one entity mashed together in a frenzy of melding hearts, music mania and relentless adolescent infatuation.

He lopes forwards and gladly slots his slanting smirk onto yours. Tasting of orange sweet candy corn and beer. His thumb and forefinger meet on your chin. Your hand slid for his neck. Fingertips along his jaw as you share a giddying kiss. You mouth at the plushness of his lips. He does the same to you.

You pull back before he makes you swoon dangerously down these steps. His kiss should come with a warning sign; dangerously addictive metal head. May possess body and soul.

You can tell already that you’ll have to wave goodbye to this lipstick. It’s now smeared all around your mouth and most of his. Now he looks like Alice Cooper doing nine to ten in Arkham Asylum.

“Hello.” You beam. Rubbing smudged purple off his lips. Vamptastic Plum the colour name.

“Hi.” He smirks like a lunatic. End of his nose rubbing into yours where he gazes at you.

He does it a lot. It’s honestly so lovesick you should be kinda nauseated.

When you’re studying. Watching a movie. Eating popcorn or pizza. Every now and again he’ll just rest his chin in his hand and smile all warm and stupid at you. Cheeks bunched and crows feet at his eyes. Even when you have paint flecked across your forehead. Or pizza cheese slung in a string across your chin. Or when you’re frowning at your fingers when you smear your nail drying polish. He loves watching you just be near him.

It always ends the same way. You’ll feel his eyes burning their fond cinnamon gaze into you. You’ll turn and meet his eyes. And that smile lopes even wider. He’ll loop a pinky though yours and kiss the back of your hand. Or your forehead.

“Permission to enter your lair?” You seek.

“Thought only vamps had to ask permission to come in?” He flirts with you. Eyes on your mouth again. Your lips all kiss bruised makes him ache. In fact, makes another sort of serpent twitch in his jeans.

“Misdirection. I am actually a vampire. The witch outfit is a clever disguise to work my cunning way into unsuspecting trailers.” You raise your brows naughtily.

He grins. “Clever subterfuge.”

He slips aside from the door to let you come in. Another kiss pressed to your lips before he lets you sidle on past him. He hangs your witches hat on the coat rack with his spare jacket and Wayne’s denim.

“Need me to park your broom?” He jests.

“Left it in the car with my black cat. You’re safe.”

“How many more witchy jokes could we stretch this out too?”

“I reckon I’ve a few left knocking around…” you guess. Placing the bucket of candy on the kitchen counter. Hopefully Eddie doesn’t pilfer the whole lot before Wayne’s home. You hope he leaves his uncle a treat or two. And doesn’t scarf the lot like a damn seagull.

This trailer hugs you any time you enter. You thought that when you and Eddie started dating. And you still think it now. Capital H home. This place. Filled with his and Wayne’s memorabilia. And a few more other things tonight;

You haven’t seen your boyfriend as much of late. He’s been out hitting the teenage party circuits with his metal lunchbox. Making a healthy chunk of change by the looks of it. He’s strung up plenty of decorations to help pep this place up with Halloween spirit.

There’s pumpkin paper garlands arced in loops up high. Orange and black twisting streamers over the mug shelves. Fake rubbery bats hanging down from the kitchen island cupboards. Dancing skeletons hanging on the little spare space the walls have to offer. The coffee table is cleared of its usual junk and absolutely heaped in candy and snacks.

Butterfingers. Butter popcorn. Pretzels. Red vines. Cheez balls. Mallomars. All of which happen to be your favourites. He has two cold beers side by side. And a fat tight joint sits waiting in the ashtray too.

He’s even bought those fake filmy cobwebs to spread in a few places with fake plastic spiders - to join in with the real ones dusted around in forgotten corners.

All your tensions melt down right to your toes. All is right with the world. Halloween night. No school tomorrow. And Eddie. And a whole uninterrupted night of movies and bliss. You’ve lost count of the amount of times a movie night has ended up getting dirty on his couch. Tape flicking to the end whilst you’re attached lip to lip with wandering hands.

You sigh gladly as you stand to toe off your shoes. Putting them aside. Heat slides into your stomach all squirly and scorching as he stands from behind you and his hand reach around and skilfully undo the cape around your shoulders.

“Let’s get you comfy my temptress of the night. Beer?” He seeks. Throwing your cape over his shoulder. It lands nowhere even near the coat rack.

“Yes please my lovable nightmare.” You sass. You walk over to the couch. Spying an absolute mound of VHS’s ready to go by the TV. The colour seemed to dip in and out sometimes. The set was old. Eddie had to whack the side sometimes to get it to behave. You find it more endearing than a set that worked seamlessly.

You pluck pieces of popcorn out the bowl and throw them onto your tongue. Crunch them down as you sit with your knees tucked under you.

Eddie kills the music and slings himself down next to you on the lumpy couch. Frame squeaking and rattling as he settles.

“Damn. You got a great selection, Munson. What did you do, bribe Harrington with your soul to score all this?” You remark as you peer at the videos on the coffee table.

1941 Wolfman. Christopher Lee’s Dracula. The Fog. Halloween. House on Haunted Hill. And Friday the 13th. You loved old school movies as much as he did. The old swelling suspense of a good black and white.

“Nothin major. Just a little selling of my body and charms. Deviant sexual acts. Just so you know I’ll have raw knees for a month.”

“Mm you filthy slut.” You hush. Impressed.

“Finest slut in the Midwest.”

“So I’ve heard.” You grin. Leaning in to kiss him. Seemed too infeasible not too. He cups the back of your head as you do. Keeping you close as he dares. Sweet kiss like icing sugar dusted across your lips.

He makes a small ‘mmm’ noise before you pull back.

“Besides. I consider The Fog a film that makes me think fondly of our very early courtship.” He remarks.

Snoopy bed shorts. A tin of Campbells. His lunatic escapades of climbing in your window late at night.

“And, well, only the best for you, Pencils.” He grins.

You tilt your head. A sigh caught in your throat.

“You must’ve busted your ass to get all this. You didn’t need too. You know I don’t need all this. I’m happy just to watch crappy reruns with you and order a pizza.” You tell him.

Concerned about the cash he would’ve laid out for tonight. The decor. The snacks. The primo shit from Rick. All must’ve cost a pretty penny.

“You’re worth every damn cent. When you’re dating a spooky awesome girl you gotta put in the ultimate spooky effort.” He tells you. Gripping his beer bottle and leaning back.

You clink your beer bottle to his.

“Please tell me you overcharged those meathead jocks for your product.”

“…. And then some.” He winks.

That’s my boy. You couldn’t be more proud.

“I’ll drink to that.” You murmur. Taking a pull on your cold beer. Cool heaven sliding down your throat.

“Thanks to Tina’s party last week, I mean, man, I scored big time. So many stoners invited. Walk in the park.” He smiled.

That deserved a kiss. Which you gladly give.

“Kinda love you for that.” You suppose. But there were no two ways about it - you were completly head over heels for him.

“Good to know.” He supplies. Hand rubbing your back.

“We better put a video on before I maul you.” You threaten with a great deal of flirt. Dragging your purple painted fingernails down the front of his top.

“Mmm kinky.” He grins. Leaning over to press a spitty kiss to your cheek. Before diving for the pile of VHS.

“Ok, roughly how long do you wanna argue about which one we watch first?” He seeks.

You narrow your eyes. Taking a sip back of your beer. “Depends if I win or not.” You look at him all cunning.

“House on haunted hill?” He bargains. Crouching and pointing the VHS at you.

“Don’t point that thing at me.” You smile. Stealing another handful of popcorn. Eating it with a grin.

Let the bickering commence…

~

The credits rolled to your third film of the night. Halloween the 1978 original. Orange twinkle lights flicker in the warm yellow lights near the kitchen. The rest of the trailer in dozy darkness. The sounds of kids trick or treating and laughing, batter against the trailer side in the night air.

You magnanimously let him pick the film. Maybe you’re growing soft in your old age.

This found you and Eddie slumped down together on the ratty couch. Limbs tangled. Joint smouldering in the ashtray. Verdant smoke in the air. Beer bottles empty. Only popcorn kernels left in the bottom of the bowl. The snacks had been pilfered and pinched at your leisure.

Eddie was pressed down onto you like a lanky weighted blanket. Snoozing happily with a belly full of beer and cheez balls. Socked feet hanging off the end of the couch. Hands slung all over you like a gangly octopus. He’s currently letting out content little breathy snores with his head cushioned against your boobs. A little spit of drool by the side of his mouth.

He’d nodded off sometime around Michael Myers fifth victim with the boyfriend and the blonde pigtails. You’d been carding your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. Made his eyes flick back in his head.

You swear he was one step away from twitching his foot in contentment like a canine at the work of your hands. Made his brain short circuit.

More so when he was on Indica. Just the kinda hit he needed for a slow sleepy and spooky night in. You can’t deny you’re fighting the effects of it yourself.

A couple of puffs. Eyelids drowsy. Your limbs feeling like cotton stuffed pillows. Indolent and slow. And now you’ve got your perfect metal head keeping you pressed down.

“Guess the party circuit wiped you for six, huh babe?” You smile. Thumbing his cheek. He mumbled something incomprehensible.

You shift your leg up. Which tumbles his knee more into your lap. He snuffled. Nuzzling his head further onto you. His breath was all sugary red vines, and fruity weed.

You kept on stroking his hair. Leaning forward to nuzzle a kiss to the crown of his messy hair. Apple shampoo and that lost tang of American spirits.

“Edward?” You ask.

You get a sleepy, sticky gurgle from him.

“I’ve got a really nice bra and panties set on under this dress, y’know.” You whisper at him.

Another mumble. You smile and rest your cheek on his warm head.

“You’ll have to let me move to put the next movie in, babe.” You tell.

“No. S’comfy.”

Then you hear him grumble. “Boobs.”

“Great boobs.”

You chuckle. Honestly.

“Knock yourself out. Munson. You smile.

Shifting down to let sleep come and gently take you too.

“Oh, and Happy Halloween.” You add. Letting your eyes close. Letting the static at the end of the video ebb you softly into dreams. Along with the sound of wind kindly rattling the roof. Brushing along the walls outside. All the trick or treaters have been coerced indoors. Safe inside with their candy spoils.

Much later on. You hear the rustle of clothes and feel the heat of his breath. The warmth of his limbs leeches off you when he moves. Coldness sneaks in.

You wake with bleary-sticky eyes to those brown ones staring back at you. Cheeks all flushed. The tell-tale sign of a tented zipper bursting at his crotch.

That dripping eye make up looks smeared and downright dangerous. He looks absolutely ravishing and you suddenly shake off your tiredness to see him looking so good like this.

“You said something about a bra, Pencils…” he smiles. “Be a shame not to show it off now-“ He beams. Waggles his brows.

“Heard that did you?” Your brow crooks.

Happy Halloween, indeed.

This is for everyone; but especially for @tvserie-s-world @lunatictardis @heyndrix @callmeloverr @joequinnswhore @atabigail @thewrathoffemalerage @lurkingprincess @songforeddiemunson @palomahasenteredthechat @babybluebex

[natashamaximoff1]

Agatha x vampiress reader

Tw: blood

Word count: 1,753

Summary: After Y/N has a long day the only thing on her mind is her next meal and her next drink, which finds her in a bar and face to face with the most stunning witch she’s seen in her life

It had been a long day and there was only two things on your mind. Where your next meal was going to come from? Where the closest bar was?

As hungry as you were, the need for an alcoholic drink was stronger which coincidently lead you to this small local bar, it seemed quite quiet from first impressions but that made sense considering it was in the middle of nowhere.

As you were in your way over to the bar you noticed the most gorgeous woman one person could possibly ever lay their eyes on, still you continued to make your way over to the bar remembering to make a mental note to approach the woman afterwards.

Once you arrived at the bar you ordered two shots of Bacardi, one for you and one for the mysterious woman. You left the bar, drinks in hand being extremely precautious of where you were placing your feet on the ground whilst still scouring the room for the woman you noticed across the bar earlier.

Once you found her, you started to approach her, planning out everything you were going to say.

Space between you both started to get smaller and smaller as you got closer and closer, your nerves started to set it, you really had never seen someone more dropdead gorgeous in your lifetime.

Closer and closer, the little details in her face becoming more evident with each step you took, from her gorgeous blue eyes to the dimples in the corner of her mouth when she smiles.

“Hi my name is Y/N. I noticed you from across the bar, you’re gorgeous. I bought a shot over for you, call it my treat.” You said placing it down in front of the brown haired woman.

“Hi dear, the names Agatha, lovely to meet you.” The blue eyed woman said before taking the shot.

Your couldn’t take your eyes off of her, her beauty almost bewitching. She took the shot effortlessly, no weird faces like anyone else you ever gifted that exact same drink to.

“Thanks for the shot dear, it was good. Although you don’t look like the kind of gal to be into shots, I would have said you were a pint person.” Agatha said.

You laughed. “Well Agatha, I can be full of surprises if you play your cards right.” You said winking at her seductively.

You noticed the slightest of blushes that appeared on her cheek and oh how it made you hungry not to mention how absolutely adorable she looked.

It was now your mission to get this woman to come back home with you, to do what? You had no idea.

“What’s a pretty woman like you doing in a bar like this all alone?” Agatha asked.

“I could ask you the same question dear” you said with a grin before finally taking your own shot.

“I asked first” replied the blue eyed woman.

She was right, she did ask first which gave you no other choice but to answer the question. “ I needed a drink and thought it was a good idea to go alone, now I’m starting to learn that it was indeed the correct decision.” You added.

“And why do you feel like that was the correct choice? There’s all kinds of dangerous people just waiting for a lonely and pretty girl like you to just walk past them.” Agatha simply replied.

“Being alone outside allows me to have conversations with breathtaking women, exactly like what we’re having now and miss Agatha I can assure you that I will be in no danger at all.” You said as you flashed your teeth at her.

Agatha never caught on that you were a vampire, even with the extremely pale skin and the grey eyes, although the woman was looking at you it was never anywhere else but your chest, stolen glances below the neck line as frequently as she thought she could get away with it.

And you thought you weren’t so subtle but she just was in her own league.

“Cat got your tongue, my dear.” You asked when you noticed she was again staring at below the neckline.

“What? No! I was just… distracted.” She said.

“What do you say about getting out of here Agatha, dear.” You asked.

“Sounds wonderful, your place or mine?” She asked.

You didn’t answer, just made your way to your car, hoping the woman was following behind you, she wasn’t.

“Well come on sweetheart, don’t just stand there. Come.” You said sounding more assertive.

Agatha definitely felt something just then, if there’s one thing she wanted it was to be bitten by a vampiress and she had a feeling that tonight just might be that lucky night.

The both of your intentions lined up, not that either of you were aware.

You snapped Agatha out of her daydreaming, hand placed firmly on the handle as she heard you.

“Vámanos” you said. You weren’t sure how long you could keep yourself away from her, she was looking more delicious with every passing minute.

The drive back to your house was quiet but not awkward. The tension could have been cut with a knife.

You pulled up on to your drive before quickly getting out of the car and heading to Agatha’s side to open the door for her.

“A gentleman as well as a pretty lady, well isn’t that quite the combo.” She smirked “and they say chivalry is dead.”

That got a little laugh to escape your mouth. Oh how you wanted to taste her, it was getting even harder to not just launch yourself at her neck.

You opened the door letting Agatha enter first but before you even had the chance to close the door, Agatha had already pressed her lips upon your own.

It was a nice but unexpected surprise which lead to you pulling away. You hated yourself for that.

“Would you like anything to drink?” You asked trying not to get too hung up on the whole pulling away thing.

“I’ll take some tequila if you have any.” she joked.

You missed the joke and went to grab the tequila, you also grabbed the salt and lime wedges. If you were going to have tequila you were going to have it in shots properly.

“I hope you don’t mind, I brought the lime and salt as well.”

Agatha looked slightly surprise that you actually brought through the tequila but she wasn’t one to complain.

For the next hour or two, you both sat and talked, learning new things about one another.

You found out Agatha was a witch, not just any witch but a very powerful and quite feared one at that, yet you weren’t even the tiniest bit scared of her, even though you’ve only just met her a few hours ago, you would trust her with your entire life. She was captivating, how could someone branded so evil be so soft and warm hearted?

Agatha had learned a lot about you and your past. She could see past the walls you kept up, you were just as vulnerable as her yet you both would never let anyone know.

With more time passing the drinks kept flowing.

You made yourself get closer to Agatha, practically straddling her. You whispered into her ear. “Oh won’t you lay back for me, my dear.”

This caught Agatha by surprise but it didn’t stop her from doing as she was told.

She laid down, back flush against the couch.

“Good girl.” You said, moving towards the lime, salt and tequila.”

Agatha looked slightly confused but decided not to mention anything.

You stood beside her, admiring the view very briefly before unbuttoning her shirt to reveal her bare chest.

Oh what a sight to see, you thought to yourself.

You took the lid off the tequila and poured it into a shot glass before placing it upon Agatha’s stomach.

“Do not move, not a single muscle.” You said.

She realised very quickly what your intentions were and she’d be lying to herself if she denied to being turned on even in the slightest.

You continued setting it up on this gorgeous canvas you had right instinct of you, salt on the neck and a lime in the mouth.

You made yourself way back down to her stomach and picked up the shot glass in your mouth, tipping your head as far back as it would go making sure not to leave anything in the bottom.

You slowly made your way up to her neck leaving trails of kisses along her chest as you went, once you reached the neck you slowly licked away the salt. You placed one last kiss on her neck before moving closer to her lips. You looked at the wedge of lime placed between her lips but you just didn’t feel satisfied.

Agatha looked surprised at your hesitation not having any idea as to why you were.

Then it hit her or should I say bit her, you sunk your teeth into her neck, taking some of her blood for yourself.

You could have sworn you heard a silent moan come from her lips.

She tasted so good, she was definitely worth the wait.

Agatha just lay there for a moment, she couldn’t believe what had just happened and before she had the chance to comprehend it, you took the lime out of her mouth ever so gently making sure your fingers stayed close to her lips and then kissed her. You wanted her to taste just how good her own blood was.

After a couple of minutes you pulled away and used the lime, it was the perfect palette cleanser.

“Holy fuck Y/N sweetheart, that’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me!”

You just looked at her and grinned before going in for another kiss, you just couldn’t help yourself. She was just so gorgeous.

You wanted to taste her again but you refrained.

Meanwhile, Agatha took another shot about 5 minutes ago and ever since then she’s been asking you to bite her again.

She tried to say it’s because it provided a sense of intimacy but it was really just because she missed the sensation but you were aware of that.

Your protests didn’t last too long as all you wanted to do was taste her again and who were you to deny you both of such pleasure even if it did only happen because Agatha seemed so desperate.

[cassiebones]

I want a scene after Rio's identity is revealed, where she is just name-dropping famous witches

Like, the others are a little spooked by her, but also intrigued. She assures them that she can't kill them...but that doesn't mean she won't make them wish they were dead (looking straight at Jennifer for this one).

So after that initial shock, they are sitting around the fire (Alice is there because I am in denial) and they ask her if she's met celebrity witches. Rio says of course.

Then they ask for details.

Rio starts saying the names of old famous witches, who they might have known personally from covens around New England, but Jen is like, "No, like celebrity famous. Like...who's a famous person who might have been a witch?"

"Elizabeth Montgomery," Lilia offers.

"Who's that?" Alice asks.

"She was in Bewitched, the old television series," Jennifer explains. "Lilia, I'm surprised you watched it."

"I didn't," Lilia assures her, "but there was always something about that actress. I couldn't put my finger on it." She looks to Rio. "Am I correct?"

They all look at Rio, who shakes her head.

"Lucille Ball was, though," she says after Lilia snaps her finger in defeat. Lilia's eyes widen at that and Rio grins. "She was young for a witch," Rio admits, "when she came to me. But, yeah. Witch."

"Ironic that she was accused in the Red Scare, which was a metaphorical witch hunt," Lilia says, as if she's giving them a history lesson, as if the majority of them didn't either live it or learn about it in high school.

"Who else do you want to know about?"

"Ooh, Liza Minelli!" Teen says. "That would be ironic, given who her mother was."

"Her mother was a witch, too," Rio says.

"Seriously?" Teen asks, bouncing like a puppy. "Judy Garland was a witch?" Rio nods. "That is so awesome."

"Calm down, Toto," Agatha says with a snort. Teen pouts at her and she rolls her eyes, affectionately. "Who else?"

"A lot of singers," Rio says, nodding contemplatively. "Like a lot of them."

There's a long moment of silence.

"Such as?" Jennifer huffs, impatiently.

Rio rolls her eyes. "What?" she asks. "No more guessing games?"

"Just spill your knowledge, Lady Death," Agatha says, nudging Rio and smirking when a pink flush lights up her pale skin.

Rio clears her throat. "Eartha Kitt," she says, finally. Jennifer practically falls off her stump in surprise.

"Legend!" Teen says, excitedly.

"You're not surprised," Lilia says, looking at Alice, who shrugs.

"She and my mom ran in similars circles for a while. It was kind of a well-known secret."

"Who else?" Jennifer asks, now looking up at Rio from her new spot on the ground.

"Chaka Khan," Rio says.

"She's not dead," Teen points out.

"Whitney told me that one," Rio says, casually. Jennifer is even further on the floor if it's possible. "What, you thought I'm Every Woman was written by a non-witch?" She scoffs.

"It makes sense when you think about it," Alice says. "I mean 'I can cast a spell with secrets you can't tell'? Witchy shit."

"Mix a special brew; Put fire inside of you," Jennifer sings from the floor, reaching out to hold and shake Alice's hand.

"But anytime you feel fear, instantly I appear," Lilia continues the song. "Cause..."

"IIIIIIIII'm every woman. It's all in meeee!" the three of them sing, together, Alice pulling Jennifer to her feet and spinning her around while Lilia laughs and claps.

Agatha laughs, too, placing her face in the crook of Rio's neck instinctually. Rio stiffens slightly, her face blooming bright red, before she relaxes, one of her arms wrapping around Agatha's waist as they watch their coven dance and sing, with Teen providing backup vocals.

For a single moment, everything is perfect.

[aphroditesmoon]

Hi! I’m not sure if u do smut or not but I was wondering if u could do a Legolas smut with fem!human!reader, like a enemies to lovers kind of thing. Maybe hate sex? <3

too close

legolas greenleaf x reader

summary: legolas has his doubts about who you really are, but is that really why he can never meet your eyes with anything else but anger in himself.

warning: afab reader, nswf, smut 18+, etl, legolas being a jerk, probably bad description of mirkwood

a/n: soo sorry i took ages, I've been taking new meds, also i havent written smut for a while so im a bit dusty, hope u like it<3

○○○○○○

Summer is barely a real season under the protective courts of Mirkwood, you could barely feel the heat or see the sun through giantic starfall tree and at night, the chill through the strong winds gives a hint of winter in its air.

You loved it. Training at night feels easier when your not already sweating through your tits ten minutes in warm ups. And the quiet around you, save the crickets and owls hooting, gave you the solace you seeked for each existing day you lived through.

But despite finding everything well with want you asked for, the universe seems relentless with making sure you'll always be keeping your guard up and your annoyance up higher, with the ever consistent appearance of Prince Legolas Greenleaf.

He stands by the corner near an entrance to the castle, watchful of you while thinking he's quiet. His lack of trust in you makes him believe that you somehow lack in the specialties of elf abilities, like for example, your keen hearing.

"I could hear you for a mile away, prince." You also caught onto his snort, before his footsteps sounds louder. "How did you lnow it was me then?" He asks, less snobby than usual.

He must be drunk, you tell yourself.

"You have that pompous, all knowing kind of stride, it has its own beat when you walk." You expected him to roll his eyes like he usually do, belittling you like a child being reprimanded. But suprisingly he laughs. "That sounds a lot like you're projecting, after all, only pompous, all knowing arseholes are the ones who isolate themselves and train alone."

Ah, there it is. He's sobered up then.

"And what humble, kind enough of an elf, would waste his time stalking other people just to throw insults like a 7 year old?" You snapped.

If he had found your irritants amusing before, now his smile fades altogether,  and he looks the same as when he's about to pull an arrow on an orc.

"The kind of an elf who's trying to protect his kingdom and father." You laughed honestly yet mockingly before dropping your sword altogether to look at him. "You think your doing the king a favor? His majesty has his own mind, he trusts me, so I'd suggest you drop your savior facade and trust him." He shook his head and looks away for a second, as if deep in thought. "My father doesn't trust anyone, let alone random rogue elves who comes out of nowhere."

You raised you brow at his bravery in speech. 'This random rogue elf is the reason your father is alive, if I had even a glimpse of malice in me, I wouldn't have done nothing but serve him well for the last 10 months." You say matter of factly.

And before he could argue again, you wave your hand at him annoyed, and turn your back at the prince. "I practise better when im alone, and now you've ruined my peace, if you don't have anything new or smart to say-"

"You are a witch." He speaks. You actually freezed for a moment, forehead frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?"He repeated his impossible words. 

"Im a witch...because i saved your father's lives?" You ask him, slowly. He looks more frustrated then ever, as if you're the one patronizing him.

"No, you are a witch, because you have bewitched him." You could laugh if you didn't want to punch him. "And how have I bewitched him?" You almost yell. "I don't fucking know!" He yells first.

"My father has never trusted anyone, except for me, yet i see he'd put his life in your hands if he has to. And you know that, you know what you are doing. How you win his praise and trust when you fight, and when you put yourself over him, over the other shooters, martyring yourself."

Your mouth was wide open, your brows furowing, but no words escape you as he continues, inching closer with every word, untik you're both a step away from eachother.

"And you know exactly what you do to me." He was hovering over you, with a glare so intense you've never seen from the mirkwood prince. "I've done nothi-" He cuts you off when you've just gained enough control to speak. "You've bewitched me."

His breath was steady even in such anger, fanning your face gently as he inhales and exhales.  "I don't trust you, and i shouldn't care too much of another fighter in our army, another stranger i shan't waste my time on. Yet one glimpse of you, and you're stuck in my head, like a memory i can't seem to forget."

he was silent after the last confession ends, and you have the stubborn urge to answer to him. "That sounds like a you problem, not mine." He gives a short bitter laugh, looking up to the sky for a second, as if praying to the stars for guidance. "What have you done to me, cruel enchantress."

The rage seemed to lessen in the glare he still holds at you, but something more hungry lays in his gaze. "I've done nothing. Im no witch." You answer, so over all of this cat and mouse game. "And if I was, I wouldn't waste my time on someone so frustrating like you, and your stupid perfect nose, going around acting like you're-" He cuts you off, closing the small space between the two of you with his lips.

It was persistent, the way his mouth pushed over yours, like a strong wave crashing over sands, forcing it to feel the same surge it's being held againts.

When your hands finally found its strength, you place them againts his chest, pushing him off, he startles and moves a step, eyes locking with yours.

His hands that were once on each sides of your face, falls down to his side, fingers flexing as if too empty now. "I hate you." He says. His eyes saying the opposite. Your mind repeats over and over of what he had done and you tell yourself that it can't get any worse or better than this, so you took a move yourself forward, standing on the ground he was on a second ago.

"Then why don't you show me how much."

You don't hesitate to pull his face towards yours, recreating the similar scene as before. His hands move to wrap around your waist, while yours tangle themselves in his untied long white hair.

You gasp when his tongue licks over your bottom lip, giving him what he wanted, your tongues clashes as you two continue kissing eachother like you're out of air. You don't flinch when he backs you up until your back meets the flat of a wall.  His right hand starts to fliddle with the laces tying your leather top on. You help him take it off before your own fingers helps him take his breeches of while he moves his lips to your neck.

"I like you better with your hair down." You manage to gasp out while he's sucking on your neck. "And I like you better with your mouth shut."  Legolas replies before his hands easily turns you around your face meets with the wall.

You barely hold on to the wall when his grip on your hips tighten, your own training tights pulled down before you felt him againts your back.  You squirm and let yourself grind againts his hardness when one of his hands move to your front to squeeze your breasts, flicking your nipple, gently moving lower then from your chest to yoir stomach, grazing your scar filled abs until it gets lower to where you want him the most.

He's still squeezing your left hip while rubbing his hard cock againts your ass.

Finally as he sinks into you without notice,  receiving  a loud whimper from you, his hand over your hips move to grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back againts his chest. His right wandering fingers were still againts your front, rubbing circles on your thighs.

You're too speechless, feeling yourself filled up to the brim by him. He doesn't move at first, head laying low by your neck, hot breathing againts your cheek. You almost cry when he slowly pulls out, until he pushes himself in again, harder tham the first thrust.

He doesn't stop them, pushing into your hole repeatedly, his hands moving up from your thighs to your clit, rubbing over it with a pace that wanted to make you scream.

Legolas finally regains enough strength to start biting and sucking on your neck, marking you, while he doesn't stop pounding into your wet cunt.

The fullness of his cock and pressure of his fingers makes your cunt tighten againts him, he lets out a growl you've never heard if the elf prince before he bites down your sweet spot harshly, making you scream out his name. "Fucking hell." He groans out, fucking out all his pent up anger and tension over you.

.Your hands feels slippery againts the wall, gripping againts nothing while he takes you like a ragdoll, manhandling you take his cock over and over, watching you turn into a crying and moaning mess.

"Legolas, please- uh." You mewl out to him He hears you, pleased he is as he lets out a grin againts your neck. "Please what, my love?" He asks huskily.  Love, thats a new one.

"Need to come-" You beg out to him.  And Legolas, for all his false pretense of hostility before, could never say no to you.

He pushes your face againts the wall again,  both of his palms now back to each side of your hip, tightening againts them as he plunges himself harder inside of you as you scream out his name, shameless of who could've heard them. Your nipples grazes againts the hard bumpy walls, oversensitive to everything now,  you clench againts him so tightly that you could hear him curse out in elvish as he holds on to your bruised sides.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes as he continues fucking you while you explode all over him, your orgasm leaking out of your cunt, all over his leg. "Argh- im going to-" He doesn't finish his words as he finally cums after you, his hot cum leaking into your hole and then lower lines on your arse.

His head leans on your back, his breathing rapid and sweat glistens you both.

Legolas pulls you back by your breast, letting you rest on hus chest while the two of you try to regain some air. His fingers grazing the valley of your tits, head stuck on the side of your forehead. Once you've calmed down from your high, you tilt your head towards him, relishing his warm arms around you.

He leans forward, letting your forehead meets. You let out a small smile.  "Now what?" Your voice gentler then expected. "Now-" He answers, voice hard. "-I'll take you to my chambers, and I'm fucking you again."

[houserautha]

Ok, okay listen I have a mighty neeed to say this!

How would Feyd-Rautha feel about having a wife who’s sensual???❤️Hear me out, his spouse comes from a small planet called Eros (Greek word for passionate love) and it’s basically the opposite of Giedi Prime, the people are loving, gentle and highly romantic individuals. Even worse they are pacifists! At first Feyd is like eww wtf is that culture? Never heard of such a thing, but when it’s time to meet the bride he sees her and is bewitched…

She has long rapunzel hair cascading down her back, or in a braid. She’s gentle with the maids and teaches them how to put flowers in her hair.

Always had luxurious perfumes and oils. Runs Feyd these big bubble baths and soothes his wounds.

Has the best fruits and sweets shipped in from her planet. Loves telling stories to children, like one of those lovely kindergarten teachers and she thanks everyone for their help.

Loves to paint, and do artsy stuff that Feyd just doesn’t understand where is the war? The bloodshed! The chaos—oh she made me a painting of my battles! Oh that’s so😍

Kisses Feyd’s bruises and at first he’s like cut that out! But then he’s like “Where are my kisses?” “I demand your affection woman.” And she’s like you don’t have to beg. Black cat hubby vibes🐈‍⬛

Gives him good massages too. Will brutally kill and then surely die if she offers anyone else a massage.

Soft and siren like singing voice, plays the harp. Even the Baron is impressed and wants her to play for their events everytime.

“Pick up the blade and defend yourself wife! You never know when you’ll need to, especially if I’m not home to protect you.” His wife just shrugs “But darling, I don’t believe in violence.” Feyd take as deep breath and closes his eyes.

Speaks in a gentle tones “Hello Rabban how are—?” Feyd: “Don’t speak to him he’s a brute!” Rabban is touched that she cares but also jealous that Feyd always gets the most beautiful things offered to him. Even a caring bride.

Extremely calm and seductive. No voice or Bene Gesserit skills needed. Feyd storms in stressed, covered in blood from one his fights and she’s just lying there half naked in a robe reading a book. “Would you like to make love would that be better?” She asks stroking the sheets. “I—I would love to fuck you.” “Oh! Well those are two different things, if you’d like then” “Come here. Come here!” *climbs onto bed.*

Comforts Feyd when he has nightmares. Caresses him and hands him a mug. Feyd: “What is this? It smells horrid.” “It’s elderflower tea my love, it’ll calm you.”🥰 *sips tea* “I hate it. It’s disgusting.” *keeps sipping*

Wears a lot of silk, velvet and lace. Has a gorgeous body and luscious skin.

Feyd is shocked when his darlings don’t want to harm her because she spoils them with special treats, delicious wine, jewelry, and dresses. They forget he enters the room because they are giggling over their gifts. Feyd: “What is this?” “She gave us heart and kidney pie.” “And silver rings!”

Bonus points: She ALWAYS wears red lipstick which is a contrast to the black and white of the Harkonnen planet. Imagine whenever she steps in to see Feyd and her smile is wide and her lips look like bright blood.

Just a thought enjoy!❤️

Omg I LOVE all of this, thank you for sharing it!!

I definitely think it would be a learning curve for Feyd but deep down he just desperately wants someone to love him😂😭

I can see him getting frustrated with himself like “what are these feelings, what has she done to me” and when he asks her what kind of witch she is, she just throws back her head and laughs and tells him, “that’s love, dear”

[robbyrobinson]

Two Roommates At the Edge of the Universe (Potential Book of Bill Spoilers)

Belos: Of all the heathenistic, pagan gods to be saddled with for eternity, it has to be... you.

Bill Cipher: (quadruples) Well, well, well, well... aren't you a sight for sore "eye." My old business partner, Philip Wittebane... or is it Belos? It's been ages... how has your whole "witch hunting" gone?

Belos: I have nothing to say to you, demon.

Bill Cipher: Oh, well look at you. You look like some slop that escaped from the pigpen! Looks like that kid you made a deal with did a number on you. Serves you right for calling off our deal.

Belos: Our plans did not align. After all, I would never help you raze the Earth. You are the Devil himself.

Bill Cipher: (chuckles) Thanks, but I can't accept that compliment since I was actually kicked out of H - E double hockey sticks. Do not tell me that you are still playing that "evil for a good cause" bullshit.

Belos: I should not conform to the temptations of sin by talking to you, Cipher. My quest was nothing but righteous. Witches defile everything they come across. But my plan failed. All I could remember before my consciousness faded was seeing a huge, celestial frilled lizard... something more ancient than the Boiling Isles... and it told me I could live once more.

Bill Cipher: Blah, blah, blah. The difference between you and me is that I can admit that everything I had done throughout the trillion years of my life were nothing more than for funsies. I wiped out planets; I ate gods for breakfast. I drove millions to madness and watched their brains melt and seep through their ears and staining the ground. I have done more than you can ever hope to! I've slaughtered hundreds because my credit card was declined. I am the god of madness and chaos. All of this I have done before you crawled out of your mommy's hoo-ha! I have lived one-billion lifetimes more than you can attest to you one lifespan, 3 dimensional, Sloppy Joe meat puppet!

Belos: Oh? Well, to be fair, I never destroyed my home.

Bill Cipher: (stops ranting) I don't know what you're talking about.

Belos: You wanted to impress your race but they were wiped out in one tragic event wasn't it?

Bill Cipher: (grasps the side of his head) No, no. I remember that day well. A monster destroyed my world! I am a victim... how dare you bring up my past?

Belos: So now you're mad. No wonder you are still here. You can't take responsibility for anything.

Bill Cipher: (he turns red and gets increasingly angry, but he calms down) Well, tell me... how is that brother of yours? I seem to recall his name...

Belos: Don't you dare...

Bill Cipher: Caleb? Oh, yes, I remember it now. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. Your brother met a nice little witch lady, but you entered the Demon Realm thinking that he was bewitched... but you saw that he not only married her, but she was pregnant.

Belos: (grapples with his temples) Silence... no more.

Bill Cipher: (conjures up a knife) Oh, does my eye deceive me? Here's the knife that you killed your brother with.

Belos: Shut up!

Bill Cipher: HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You should have seen the look on his face! He was so devastated that his own brother stabbed him when he was protecting his wife!

Belos: She - He! I was trying to save his soul! He chose his own fate. He stabbed me in the back. After all those years being witch hunters, he allowed himself to be tempted by the wiles of that harlot!

Bill Cipher: (cheeky) Ah, does widdle Belos miss his brutha? Does he want some milky? Or someone to tell him bed stowies? HA HAHAHA HA HA HA!! Face it, old man, you are just like me. All you ever cared about was being the hero who would save mankind from the forces of evil.

Belos: Grrr.... I am not evil.

Bill Cipher: Well... The Axolotl sent you here to be "rehabilitated." If you're lucky, you can reincarnate into some worm that eats shit for a living.

[forever-rogue]

Hi lovely, idk if you're still taking requests from Joel but in case you are, something with the prompt “If we’re both single next Halloween, you’re allowed to put a curse on me." perhaps?

Probably a little costume party in Jackson, whatever you want. Thank you <3

AN | Okay, but this is sweet, Halloween-y goodness💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Mild Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One Year Ago

You spotted him standing near the door, seemingly camped out near the punch bowl with a cup in hand and an unreadable expression. You turned to May and Daisy, excusing yourself as you made your way over to him.

At first Joel didn't even look your way, pointedly keeping his gaze away from you and everyone else. You definitely weren't having that.

"Joel Miller," your voice was honey sweet as you stopped in front of him, a soft smile on your face. He seemed to stiffen for a moment before allowing himself to look at you, "are you just going to stand here all night and scowl at everything?"

"I am not scowling," he huffed, waving a hand as if to prove his point. You rocked back and forth on your heels and looked at him expectantly, "and I haven't just been standing here."

"Hmm…" you helped yourself to a fresh cup of punch and sipped on it slowly, "kinda seems like what you've been doing, honey."

Honey. He could have died and gone to heaven from how sweet your voice sounded. And yet you had no clue as to the effect you had on him.

"I'm just…I didn't really want to be here," he allowed himself to meet your eyes and instead of finding any sort of judgment, he found nothing but curiosity, "but, ugh, I kinda felt forced to be here. So."

"So," you teased gently, "let me guess, Tommy and Ellie?"

"Naturally," he sighed lightly as you giggled softly. It really might have been his favorite sound in the world. It was ridiculous how addicted he was to everything you did, "I realize I'm a downer…I was just getting ready to leave."

"You're not a downer," you put your hand on his forearm and gave him a gentle squeeze, "parties aren't for everyone. Honestly, I don't like them most of the time either but it's my favorite holiday so I couldn't say no."

"Halloween is your favorite holiday?" He quirked a brow at that as you nodded eagerly, "tell me why I am not surprised in the slightest."

"It is very predictable, isn't it?" You gestured to your body - you had gone all out with your witch costume. You looked insanely good but somehow he doubted that you knew that - which was ludicrous by the way. He swallowed thickly as he tried to keep his mind from going directly into the gutter, "have I bewitched you?"

Joel couldn't hold back his snort of amusement as you beamed at him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to think of a good comeback. Unfortunately he found none and ended up blurring out, "pretty! You look pretty."

"Oh," your entire face flushed with warmth as you bit your lip and looked away for a moment, "what are you supposed to be? Weird guy at a party?"

"Something like that," he was dressed in regular clothes. Just because Ellie made him come didn't mean he was going to dress up.

"Well, whatever you want to call it, you still look handsome," you weren't sure what possessed you to be so bold but you just had to throw it out, "you're a catch, Miller. Even if no one else sees it. Don't even know how you're still single."

"Alright, alright," his cheeks tinged a pretty shade of pink as you nudged him with your elbow, "you can calm down and don't need to flatter me."

"It's not flattery if it's true-"

"Well then, what's your excuse for still being single?"

"I dunno," you tapped your lip thoughtfully, confidence and excitement flooding your veins, "maybe the right one just hasn't shown up yet. Or they're...afraid. who knows."

"How about this little witch," he tapped the edge of your hat, "if we're both still single next Halloween, you can put a curse on me."

"Is that a promise?" You asked as he nodded. You held up your pinkie and gave him a thoughtful look, "better make it a pinkie promise so we know it's real."

"You've got yourself a deal," he hooked his finger around yours, the two of you grinning at each other like fools, "and we'll see what happened next Halloween."

"You're on, Miller. So on."

Next Halloween couldn't come fast enough.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Present Day

The past year has gone by in a blur. It was hard to believe that Halloween had already happened a year ago. It was even harder to believe that Joel was still single…to your knowledge anyway. You were going to be confirming that soon enough.

The two of you were good friends and often spent time together but the past few months had felt…different. You weren't sure quite how to put it into words but it was different - different but good. You thought he might have been flirting with you but it was hard to tell, Joel was a tough nut to crack after all, and you didn't want to be presumptuous either. Imagining how foolish you would have looked if you made a move on him and he didn't feel the same way was enough to put the idea out of your head. 

Instead you were set on enjoying his company and let things happen as happened. But then you remembered - it was Halloween. A whole year since you'd made your little bet with Joel. Which meant…something was going to change between the two of you. One way or another, you knew that something was going to happen.  

You were planning on going over to Joel's house to see what he was up to, but he definitely beat you to the punch. It came in the form of loud, rhythmic knocking on your front door. It was with a huff as you ran down the stairs, half in your costume. 

"Hello?" You were breathless when you answered the door, still deciding on if you were going to chastise whoever was it was or welcome them into your home.

"Hi," and there stood Joel Miller, smug little smile on his face and arms crossed over his chest. The man was dressed as a cowboy and for some reason that was doing something for you.

"Joel," his name was breathy off your lips as you tried not to stare at him too intently. You knew that man could read you like a book, "what are you doing here?"

"Came to see my favorite little witch," he looked you up and down, amused by your current state of dress - or lack thereof. Your entire face felt like it was on fire as you shifted to attempt to cover up your top half. You were only in a bra with a sheer layer on top, "wanted to see if you needed any help with anything."

"I, ugh, umm…sure?" You weren't sure what you needed help with but you definitely didn't want to let him leave. Not yet and not if he went somewhere else and other women got to oogle him. You stepped aside and motioned for him to come in, "I'm sure there's…something."

The man trailed after you, closing the door sharply as he leaned against it. You raised an eyebrow at him but he just continued his quiet and calm stare down. You swore that man could see right into your soul and knew all of your deepest and darkest secrets. You swallowed thickly as you waited with baited breath for what he had to say, "you remember last Halloween?"

"Of course I do," as if you could even forget that night, "what about it?"

"Aren't you going to ask me?"

"Ask what?"

"Don't play coy with me, sweetheart," ugh. Why did he have to sound like that when he called you such sweet things? It should have been illegal, "ask me."

"Are you, Joel Miller…single?" Your heart skipped a few beats as you waited for his response. You were almost positive you knew his answer but still - you could never be positive. He came a step closer and left a much smaller gap between the two of you. You could smell the hints of his soap and aftershave and it sent shivers down your spine.

"I am," he admitted softly, the corners of his mouth ticking up in a smile, "but I think that I don't want to be. So I guess depending on your next answer, mine might change."

Butterflies exploded in your tummy as you tried to read between the lines. Not that that was incredibly hard but you never knew.

"W-what is your next question?" Your voice sounded small as you found it hard to meet his pretty brown eyes. Joel reached over and gently put his finger under your chin and turned your face up to his. His touch was so tender that you almost melted, "Joel?"

"May I kiss you?"

Yeah…you'd been expecting that and not expecting it at all. You allowed yourself to meet his eyes, trying to make sure you'd heard him correctly. Judging from the look on his face, you'd definitely heard correctly. You nodded in response, not trusting your voice at all.

"Need to hear you say it, sweetheart…"

"Yes," you moved closer, "please kiss me."

It took Joel a moment to close the small space remaining between your bodies. One hand settled on your waist while the other cupped your cheek. He pulled you into him and then softly and slowly kissed you. 

It wasn't much at first, a gentle and tentative testing of the waters to make sure you were both on the same page. When you realized, in a moment of bliss, that you both desperately wanted this, you went all in. Kissing Joel felt like nothing you'd ever experienced before you and you couldn't help but want more, more, more. When Joel answered your call with just as much hunger and intensity, you knew this was it.

 Both of you refused to pull away until you were desperately in need of air. For two people that had just been incredibly bold, you were both looking at each other shyly. 

"Are you single?" He asked you in between a few more kisses, craving the touch and taste of your lips.

 "Mhmm," you hummed back contentedly, "but I don't wanna be."

"What do you want then, sweetheart?" He had to be doing this on purpose. But as much as you wanted to say it, he needed to hear it. Needed to know that he wasn't just crazy and imagining all the feelings that had been flowing between the two of you.

"You," you whispered against his lips, "I want you, Joel."

"You have me," he promised as you relaxed and let yourself melt into him completely, "have since I met you."

"Oh. Oh," your eyes grew wide as he took your face in his hands, thumb brushing over your cheek, "its been a long time."

"Yeah," he agreed, "it has been."

"I-I've liked you too," you admitted sheepishly, "for a long time. I've just never…none if you felt the same."

"And here I was thinking that I was being so obvious," he tutted softly, "I'll have to try and be more clear in my intentions. If you'll let me."

"Mhmm," every part of your body felt like it was on fire, "I'd like that."

"Good," he beamed at you before pressing kisses to your forehead, cheeks and stopping at your lips, "what do you say we go to that Halloween party tonight? Together?"

"I'd love to," you could barely contain your giggles as he scooped you up and started to carry you upstairs, "what are you doing?"

"Going to help you finish getting ready," he grinned at you, "among other things. Plus I'm the only one that gets to see you like this, yeah?"

"Yes," you were excited at the prospect of everything that was to come. Everything felt like it was starting to come up roses. Who would have thought that one silly little Halloween promise would have led to all of this? Best Halloween ever - well maybe with the exception of what to come tonight, "yes."

"Happy Halloween, sweetheart."

"Happy Halloween, Joel."

[starrypawz]

AO3 What can I say I had an idea

On the shore of The Dreaming he senses something that ebbs and flows with the tide.

Whatever that something is very…

Small

Tired

With a broken heart… 

But the heart still beats strong. 

Curious. 

Gently he reaches out and

A crow? Most curious.

The crow, more than a little bedraggled, tilts their head as they stand.

“Caw?” (weakly) 

“Easy now,” 

Caw…. Caw?... Caw!  (Slightly panicked)

“No you are not, much longer though and you likely would have met my sister,”

Caw!! (Profanity) 

Caw (Apologetic) 

“That’s an… understandable reaction… although I will say she is actually… very nice.” 

Caw? 

“I am known by many names but… Often I am known as Dream,” 

“Caw!” (Introductory) Dream gives a faint smile, “I am aware,it is a  pleasure to meet you Monty the Crow” 

He regards the Crow who has just informed him that he is known as Monty (although he knew that already)  some more and then asks.

“What was your aim?” 

“Caw,” “London?” 

“Caw,” and then “Caw?”

“Unfortunately you didn’t get very far,” 

“Caw,” (Dejected) 

“Agreed, that was a rather foolish idea,” Dream tilts his head, “I must ask why did you undertake this fool’s errand?” 

“Caw?”

“I… can only sense fragments, you are rather weak right now,” 

“Caw,” (Panicked)

“Do not worry, you are safe here,” “Caw,” (Grateful) 

Dream pauses.

“So Monty the Crow what was the goal of your fool’s errand?”

“Caw?” 

“I only sensed fragments, you are… rather weak right now,”

“Caw,”

“You are safe here,”

“Caw,” (Grateful) 

Monty pauses and the way his feathers ruffle translates as a sigh before he takes a couple of hops that translate somehow as ‘pacing around whilst trying to get your thoughts together’

“Caw…” Another hop, “Caw… Caw…. Caw,”  Another hop, “Caw” (Dejected) 

“That… that is a rather noble cause,” Dream reaches out and then pauses, “May I?”

Monty nods. 

Dream lightly scratches him on the head, feather soft under his fingers and Dream feels a soft rush of affection run through him as Monty leans into his touch and ruffles his feathers and gives the faintest hint of a smile. 

“I… I sense you have not been treated kindly,” He offers his hand and Monty struggles to hop up. 

“Let me,” He soothes as he carefully guides him into his hand and lifts Monty closer to his face.

“I am sorry that has happened to you,” Dream stiffens, “Who… Who did this?” 

“Caw,” “A witch?” He pauses and… feels, “One named Esther Finch, I know of her and… I can sense she has met her long overdue fate,”

“Caw,”

“Maybe that offers you some comfort?” Monty moves his wings in a way that somehow reads as a shrug.

“I… I know what it is like, to be trapped,” Dream sighs, “Taken by someone who seeks power they do not deserve.. Let alone understand.” 

Monty tilts his head again.

“Tell me Monty, Tell me your story,”

“Caw-” 

“I am fond of long tales…” Dream smiles, “And we have all the time in the world whilst you are here,”

Monty ruffles his feathers and then 

“Caw-” 

And then after some time. 

“That is… quite the tale.” 

“Caw?” 

“Yes… now what,” Dream sighs, “I think I can aid you?”

“Caw?”

“Do not worry, I would not pull you into such a bargain, I would also not expect you to serve a new master so soon after gaining your freedom,” 

“Caw?”

“So…The Witch Esther Finch turned you into a human, tell me Monty do you wish to be back in that form?”

“Caw… Caw…” He pauses, “Caw?”

“I see… Understandable you do not want to be bound to one form… even if you found thumbs incredibly useful,” He gives an amused snort and gently scratches Monty on the head, “I believe… I believe I know someone who can aid you,” 

“Caw?”

“No he is not a witch… although I guess he is bewitching in his own way,” “Caw!” (Teasing) Dream swallows, “I am… incredibly fond of him.” Dream pauses, “You… you remind me of him, he is… an incredibly kind soul, eternally joyful,” He smiles, “Even if he is a little foolish at times, His name is Robert Gadling although he prefers to go by Hob, ” Dream pauses, “So Monty The Crow if you agree, once you awake you will find yourself in London,” 

“Very well them,” Dream pulls him against his chest, “Now rest,” 

Monty rests.

Hob awakes to early morning light through the window and realises he forgot to shut the curtains again as he winces  whilst in the background he can hear the ever present drone of the traffic of 21st century London. He finds his laptop in the bed and connects dots he was planning to grade just a couple of more papers last night, but judging from the Turnitin page that greets him when he wakes up the laptop that he’d fallen asleep about a quarter into grading the first one.

Later… later. Deal with that later.  At least two cups of coffee later. 

He’s just about to pass through to the kitchen when he notices something at the living room window.

Matthew? 

No that’s not Matthew.

Wait… that’s not a raven anyway, the beak’s the wrong shape and they’re too small that’s a… 

Crow. 

Oh. 

There hadn’t been A Visit last night (It’s actually been a while but not quite long enough that Hob is worried) but Hob had in that point where reality is a little… loose between waking and sleeping had heard a whisper. It’d been somewhat cryptic (He didn’t expect anything less) but the pieces start to slot together. 

Hob shakes his head with an affectionate snort as he lifts the sash window. It’s thankfully a warm morning. 

The crow tilts their head at him. 

“Well… come on in?” 

Hob takes a step back and watches as the crow hops through the opened window, carefully he shuts it behind them. 

There’s a pause for a moment before they hop from the windowsill and then

Falll  to the ground. 

Hob is caught off guard for a second before there’s a ruffle of feathers and then. 

Ah

So that’s why there’d been something about ‘spare clothes’ that’d sounded rather out of place coming from Dream. 

Hob now looks at the dark haired teenager who had been a crow moments ago who sits on the sofa. The borrowed t-shirt and shorts hang loose on him in a way that looks more ‘Handmedowns from an older sibling’ than ‘fashionably baggy’ 

The teenager looks up at him through curtain bangs with dark eyes that are bright and… oddly captivating.

Just like someone else I know. 

“So… Monty, right?”

Monty nods. 

“Dream?” They say, voice still croaky, “Sent me to you… somehow? Said you could help me?” 

“Hopefully?” Hob clears his throat, “So… are you hungry?”

“I’m starving,” 

Breakfast. Right. That’s at least a problem he can fix. 

“Ok,” Hob smiles, and hopes it looks less nervous than he feels. “I’ll go make us something and you can tell me all about… whatever’s going on,”

“Sounds great!,” Monty’s voice is bright, almost a little too bright for this time in the morning and gives him probably the softest smile he’s ever seen before Hob turns into the kitchen. 

What the hell have you gotten me into this time?

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Prince x Witch! Reader pt. 2

TW: Drugging mention, abortion mention, violence, honestly just the ordeal of waking up and finding out you're pregnant.

WANNA GET ME A ☕?

Five Months Ago...

"I need it. I need the reassurance she'll love me when I pick her," Helia said, walking into The Woods.

The Woods have light peaking from the tall trees, vines in the sky, and houses of flying creatures in the tree branches. Like an ecosystem, the fairytale characters and creatures that aren't in a castle harmoniously live in the Woods as a community. Near the lakes and streams are where the mermaids and nymphs live. The forest grounds are where mostly minotaurs, elves, fairies, dragons, and dwarfs live. Meanwhile, the sky has the harpies, phoenixes, and others. But everywhere in the forest has witches, vampires, and other magical beings to find and chat with.

"Excuse me, Mr. Elf, do you know where to find someone who can make a love potion?" Helia asked, tapping on the elf's shoulder.

"Oh wow, another royal in these woods. Luckily, you'll find what you seek right in front of you. My friend Y/N made extra potions of the highest quality with the most potent ingredients for the upcoming ball of Prince Helia," The elf responds, handing Helia a vile of pink liquid.

"Do the people who requested this potion want to use it on the prince?" Helia asks, giving the elf some golden coins. "And what does this friend of yours look like? Is she a witch?

"Haha! No. Let's just say gala and ball babies are trendy," The elf laughs, creeping out Helia. "But if you want to see her, look there."

Helia looks at the sunny Woods' path and sees a witch with a basket of herbs, fruit, and meat.

"She's beautiful," Helia thought, embodying the feeling of being bewitched.

Helia returns to his castle and doesn't look back at the woods, for if he did, he'd never return.

~~~~~~~~~~

It's been six months since the ball, and your relationship with Helia couldn't be better. However, that's because after the first love potion dose wore off on Helia, he's been giving you doses so you can't wake up from your lovely dream. But more importantly, the two of you have been preparing for the arrival of your baby girl, Maya.

"How's my beloved wife doing?" Helia asks, crawling onto the bed and rubbing your big stomach.

"You're gone too long. You missed our little girl kicking when I ate some peppers," You say, kissing your husband.

"Aw, sorry I missed your feeding time, baby," Helia coos, kissing your stomach. "How about this? I'll give you extra cuddles while we sleep."

"No complaints from me as long as I get free access to your cock if I get horny," You say, pulling back the covers and letting your husband in.

"Deal."

Helia climbs into bed and spoons you as sleep creeps up on you for the 45th time today. You wake up at 3 am, your body floating a foot in the air. Questions run through your fatigued body as you process your surroundings. A mirror sparkles in the moonlight, and you see the silhouette of your pregnant belly.

"Wha?" You whisper, subconsciously feeling the other side of the bed as if someone was supposed to be there.

You get up and look at your body. Your stomach is large with child, and your breasts are big and swollen with milk. You stare at your reflection in horror, touching your stomach and confirming your new reality. A whimper escapes your lips, and you sink to the ground. Your fetus kicks your stomach, and your whimpers turn into cries.

"Stop moving!" You cry, your nails digging into your stomach.

Your fetus kicks more and more, making you look for a way out of the bedroom. You see an uneven wall and run towards it, hitting the wall for a secret opening. Eventually, you hit the right spot, and an opening appears, leading to a dark passageway with cobblestone stairs spiraling downward. You put a hand on the wall to help keep your balance and go down the stairs, hoping for an escape. When you reach the end, you take your first step toward freedom as you walk on the crisp new grass of spring.

"Into the Woods I go," You say, walking away from the castle and to your home.

It's a silent walk on the way home as the village surrounding the castle is asleep. With only you, your fetus, and your thoughts, you begin to talk to your daughter.

"You know, I thought about trying to find someone to abort you, but it wouldn't matter anyway. No one on this land, Woods or not, would do it. Ever since the royal family passed the lineage law a century ago, nobody could abort a fetus of royal lineage, illegitimate or not. The last time someone did that led to everyone not human living in The Woods. It's not your fault you're inside me, it's not my fault I'm pregnant with you, it's not our fault we were in that castle," You say, stumbling into the lively Woods.

As you walk the village's dirt roads, the castle erupts with noise. You hear horses leaving their stables and running out.

"No, no," You groan, walking into the Woods faster.

"Find Queen Y/N, and bring her back to the castle or King Helia. Do not harm her!" The royal head knight commands, making you run further into the Woods.

The Woods become dark, and the liveliness you love and know becomes non-existent.

"I must be in the Fairytale district," You say, holding your stomach as you trek through the dark woods full of thorns, shrubbery, and trees that seem to be closing in.

"My love," Helia says, seeing your figure in the woods.

You run, tearing your dress as it gets caught in the thorns.

"Y/N, my love! Wait! You'll hurt yourself!" Helia yells, making his horse speed up.

You jump over a fallen tree and try not to focus on the pain from your feet.

"Leave me alone!" You yell, sliding down a steep hill.

You think you can handle the speed, but suddenly, you're sliding out of control. You scream as you head toward a dark valley full of fog and embrace your stomach, preparing for the worst. A hand grabs your arm at the last minute, and you're dangling an inch above raging rapids. Helia carries you back up, and you both rest on the forest floor.

"Are you crazy? You could've gotten yourself killed!" Helia screams, grabbing your shoulders.

"It would've been better than whatever was going on in that castle!" You scream, holding your stomach. "Do you know what it's like waking up and not knowing what happened to your body? What happened to yourself, and why you can't recognize places that feel familiar?"

"All you had to do was stay as my sweet wife, but it's my fault. I didn't give you another dose of love in time. But I won't make that mistake again," Helia states, pulling out a syringe filled with a love potion.

"No! No, please!" You beg, holding Helia's hands.

"Just stay still, and it'll all be over!" Helia screams, trying to stab your neck.

"NO!"

Magic shoots out of your body, flinging Helia across the forest. The silence from the forest takes over, leaving you with your tears and your baby's kicks.

"I'm sorry, May-Maya-no, May. That's right, May. I'm sorry, May. I shouldn't have hurt your daddy," You ramble, crawling to Helia's body.

You grab the syringe and use your magic to incinerate it. Then, you tap on your husband's cheeks for a sign of life. If his body is found in The Woods, it'll be the end of the magical and supernatural creatures in the kingdom.

"Helia, please. Please wake up," You beg, lightly slapping his cheeks.

"Mm...my love, you didn't leave," Helia groans, weakly holding your hand.

You couldn't leave. Not if you wanted any semblance of a future for your friends and family.

"Hey, how about we read parenting books, and have dinner?" You suggest, hoping he will not wonder where the love potion went.

"Queen Y/N, what happened to King Helia?" The head knight asks, jumping off his horse.

"A bear was about to attack me. Helia defended me and got wounded in the battle," You lie, holding Helia's hand.

"Guards, take King Helia to the infirmary for treatment and get the royal doctor and wizard. I'll take Queen Y/N back to her quarters," The head knight commands, picking you up and putting you on his horse.

And so, the witch and the prince return to their castle. Their unborn child is as calm as ever as the witch opens a book with a stork carrying a baby on the cover. The prince, now king, curls up next to his wife, his hand rubbing her belly. The witch hiding her disgust and she turns the next page.