#yeah i got ingredients mostly

[transgender-catboy]

tomorrow we find out if the human body can sustain itself with only 2 ✌️! count that, 2! oranges, some water, and maybe a spoonful of crispy onions (ya know, like, the salad topper?) if I'm able to tolerate the weird oily texture it leaves in my mouth

[marmorenshud]

in better news, I made rolls without a recipe yesterday and they turned out good

[lovelivision]

SLEEP OVER PT.1

pairing: fushiguro toji/reader

wc: 2.3k

summary: staying the night at your boyfriends place for the first time is nervewracking, especially when he seems to feel a certain way about you wearing his clothes

a/n; dilf dilf dilf dilf dilf dilf...uhm anyways...i lurv toji a lot and i needed to write something for him, i thought it would fix me but it may have made me worse :D also, i would like to write a part 2 for this maybe :3

warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, tiny bit of possessiveness, (minor) size difference kink, heavy petting, dry humping, afab!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n, nicknames used; doll, ma'am (once in a joking way)

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Hovering in Toji’s kitchen, you try to make yourself seem more relaxed, you’ve been in his house plenty of times now but this time is different. This is the first time you’re staying the night, alone, in his house, with him.

Besides heavy petting, nothing more has ever happened between the two of you, to say you have expectations is an understatement. It doesn’t have to happen but you’ve been together for a little bit now and there’s only so long you can hold out, you mean, have you seen Toji?

He’s been patient, you were initially the one who said you didn’t want to rush things, you were scared of just being a lay and asked him to wait until you felt ready, which he has respected. He’s respected it…too well, barely making out before he’s parting from you. The sexual frustration you’ve been feeling has you wound so tight that you might literally implode as soon as he touches you.

From across the counter separating you, he teases, “You gonna help me over here? Or did you propose baking together just to watch me do it for you?”

“Well… I am enjoying the view,” you flirt back, playing off the stiffness in your joints.

He raises a brow at you, “How about you flirt with me while whisking that bowl right there,” he nods down to the bowl just off to his side.

“Yessir,” you stand at attention and throw a little salute his way.

When you round the bench to stand next to him, he bumps into your shoulder with his own, “You feeling okay, doll?”

You hum and look up at him, “Yeah, I’m good.”

It’s mostly quiet after that, aside from small talk and teasing remarks made while you finish prepping the ingredients. You told him that sleepovers needed brownies and he went out and bought stuff to make them, it was incredibly sweet and made you almost swoon on the spot when you showed up and he told you what he’d done.

Unluckily for you and your clumsy nature, his sink sprays a bunch of water down your front as you’re washing a dish. You let out an unceremonious squeaking sound at the sudden rush of cold running all the way down your pyjama shirt, to your pants.

The bowl Toji was holding clatters a bit as he drops it to be at your side, “What happened?” He asks before seeing your drenched clothes, an amused smile taking place where his concern was sitting, “You’re not much help in the kitchen, huh?”

“Hey!” you frown at him, “I am perfectly helpful, thank you very much. It’s not my fault your sink hates me.” You feel like a wet cat under his gaze, “What am I meant to do now? These are the only pyjamas I bought with me,” you pout slightly, looking down at your ruined clothes.

“Just wear something of mine,” he shrugs easily.

The idea of wearing his comfortable clothes makes your skin buzz, “Okay… thank you,” you mumble at him.

He scoffs at your sudden coyness, “You want me to pick something out for you or do you got it?”

“No, I got it,” you smile at him before turning to wander through the house to his room.

Shuffling through his drawers, you find a shirt and some sweatpants to wear. They’re large on you, the whole look incredibly baggy, having to pull the drawstrings on his sweats a bit tighter to make sure they stay up. You feel better though, warm, you hope he won’t mind but you had to borrow a pair of his boxers as well…

When you walk back into the kitchen, Toji does a double take on you, his eyes widening slightly, “You comfy?”

“Very,” you walk up to him, “You finish with the brownie mix?”

He stares at you for a moment before replying, “…Yeah, they’re in the oven.”

“Nice, putting the mix in the tray is my least favourite part, it’s always so sticky and messy and I end up getting frustrated because it won’t all go in and then I need another spoon to get the mix off the spatula and then I have to go back and forth…” You trail off, noticing he’s not really paying attention to what you’re saying, he is looking at you though, “Toji, Something wrong?”

He considers you for a moment, “You look cute,” is all he says.

You feel shy under his gaze now, not expecting him to compliment you so sincerely, “So do you?”

He barks a laugh at your clumsy compliment, “Alright, wanna watch something while we wait?” He changes the topic.

“Sure!”

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is, his hand rests on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles but just because he’s not subtle doesn’t mean it’s not working. The tv plays some movie in front of the pair of you but you can’t pay attention, you’ve not retained a single plot point, his warm hand on your thigh is all you can feel, all you can register.

You have a feeling you’re going to have to be the one to break this, the weird limbo you’re both in. Turning your head to the side and looking up, you aren’t ready for how he’s already looking down at you, his hand on your thigh reaches for the side of your face, cradling you gently. He moves in slowly, giving you the chance to pull back in protest if you don’t want him to kiss you.

You want it though and lean up the rest of the way, kissing him deeply, wanting to put your lips on him for nearly the whole time you’ve been here. He meets your eagerness, his hand holding you more firmly, his tongue licking into your mouth, wanting to taste you. His body moves into yours more, his other hand grabbing at your hip.

His kisses grow rushed and he ends up trailing them to your neck, kissing and licking along the exposed skin there. The hand on your face angles you to his will, manoeuvring you every which way so he can get his lips on whatever part of you he desires.

Huffed out whine leave you at the way he nips at your skin, he has enough of the odd angle and pulls you onto his lap completely, sitting back as his hands roam your body over his clothes.

“Toji,” you whine out his name.

His eyes look into yours, “Do you need me to stop?”

Shaking your head at him, you say, “No, I need more…”

“You really do look cute in my clothes,” he murmurs, leaning in again and pressing a full kiss to your lips, “You look comfortable… all wrapped up in my clothes.” He reiterates that they are in fact his clothes you’re wearing.

His hands move under the large shirt, groping at your bare skin, delighting in the warmth and plushness of you. Your body breaks out in goose bumps as a noticeable shiver runs down your spine, his touch electrifying to you.

“My, how sensitive you are,” he teases you, a self-satisfied grin making its way onto his face.

“Shut up,” you snark back, “Just… kiss me again?”

His smile grows, “Yes ma’am,” he jokes before kissing you again.

You’re getting lost in it, in the feel of his lips on yours, it’s making you dizzy and needy. Your hips grind down into his on their own accord and Toji moans against you, surprised by the sudden friction. Recovering quickly, his hands grab your hips and encourage you to keep going, your clothed cunt dragging up and down his covered cock has spots in your vision.

Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt tight, your lips disconnecting from his every time you moan, only for him to press them back together. His dick twitches in his pants, painfully erect and sensitive, he has a feeling he could cum like this.

This is the furthest the two of you have gone so far and he’s not wasting this opportunity, he needs to see you cum, he needs to hear it. The grip he has on you is harsh, his hips rut up into yours which results in the most pathetic sound he’s ever heard coming from you… he needs more.  

Pulling back, you whinge, “Toji~ I wan– t more… I want more.”

“Well… I want you to cum while wearing my clothes,” he counters.

You gasp at his blunt words, “I–”

You don’t get the chance to finish your thought, his hips thrusting up, the shock delicious. His dick is leaking profusely in his pants, he’s way too sensitive right now, for his grown age. You’d asked to go slow and he complied but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to furiously jerk himself off after your visits.

Toji’s boxers are uncomfortably wet against your core, slick and stuck to your pussy with how worked up he’s gotten you. All the layers are upsetting you; you just want one less layer, his pants, your pants, you don’t care, you just need more.

“Toji, lemme take off the sweats, please, please, please,” you all but beg at him.

“No. Told you,” he scolds, “I want you cumming in my clothes.”

“Mmm but…” You hesitate.

You’ve caught his interest, quirking a brow at you, he asks, “But what?”

You decide to tell him even though you’re a little embarrassed, “I’m also wearing your boxers.”

He holds you still against him, a sound of objection coming from you at the lack of friction, “You’re wearing my boxers?”

You nod quickly, hoping for this line of questioning to be done soon, “I am.”

“Why?”

You look down, to where you’re sat on top of him, his large cock strained against his pants, you falter slightly in your answer, distracted. Toji’s hand tapping against your thigh brings you back, “Mine were wet from the sink…”

He tugs at the sweats, “Take these off, right now.”

Standing on wobbly legs, you undo the drawstring on his pants and slip them down.

Toji groans at the sight of your bare legs, “Lift up my shirt,” he directs.

Which you do, biting your lip, trying to fight off the urge to run away in embarrassment. Your hands hold his shirt up slightly, exposing to him how you’re wearing his boxers.

His eyes scan your lower half carefully, his heart stuttering in is chest. His light grey boxers dark where your arousal has pooled, “Fuck, come here,” he pats his lap, grabbing you when you’re close enough. “You’re so fucking wet, doll, shit.”

When you’re back on his lap, he wastes no time, his cock rubs between your folds, parting them from under his boxers, the friction different and consuming. This feels so much better than before, it feels almost intense after getting minimal sensation.

“Toji~ I don’t think I’ll last long like this,” you admit, feeling shame from how pathetic you must seem.

“Good,” he groans, his hips thrusting up into yours while his hands drag you back and forth on his cock, “I won’t either.”

To hear he’s just as effected by this as you are makes your cunt pulse around nothing, a whimper leaving you from how pathetically empty you feel, “I still want more,” you pout.

“Later,” he promises.

Your skin buzzes and your stomach clenches, your fingers dig into his shoulders, feeling impossibly close to finishing. Your eyes grow dazed, hot, huffed breaths leaving your parted lips. The sight has Toji’s cock twitching profusely, barely fighting off his orgasm, wanting to see you cum first.

“Come on, doll, I need to see it,” he tugs you quicker, your slick cunt sliding easily against his pants, the wetness seeping through the boxers onto them, “I need to see you cum for me.”

You shudder at his words, “I’m gonna–”

One of his hands leave your hip and slides to your face, his thumb pressing past your lips, you take it and suck on it, tongue licking the pad of it gently. A moan from deep in his chest rumbles under your hands, it’s all too much. Your cunt flutters against him and your eyes roll back, moans muffled around his thumb as your cum gushes from your pussy, coating his boxers even more.

Toji can’t help but watch, he’s watching you so closely, his cock cumming very suddenly. Your orgasm, the dumb look in your eyes, the flutter of your lashes, the shake in your body as you cum in his clothes undoes him. His own cum seeps into his pants, a large, wet stain growing on his sweats as his dick jerks with his orgasm.

He pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging your lower lip down with it, “Fuck,” he bites out.

He rides out both your highs, lightly grinding his hips up into you as you both come down. Your form collapses into him, curling yourself around him. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as you jolt every now and again, it’s cute, he thinks.

You lay peacefully like this for a moment before you remember, “The brownies,” you try to pull yourself away from him.

“They’re fine, oven went off only a moment ago,” he hums.

“I’ll go grab them then,” you say.

“Alright, shaky, off you go,” he mocks you and your jelly legs.

Pulling back, you frown at him, “I will.”

He just smiles knowingly at you.

Crawling off him carefully, you stand on your shaky legs momentarily before sitting back down on the couch next to him, “Maybe you should go get them.”

“Mhm,” he answers, leaning over he presses a kiss to your cheek, “That’s what I thought.”

You cross your arms over your chest and scowl at him, pretending to be more upset than you actually are.

Toji goes into the kitchen and pulls the brownies out, he calls over to you, “So… I hope you like the corners of your brownies a little crispy.”

You can’t help but laugh at that.

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

[metawish]

Saw a post about acne being entirely genetic, and I have to say that it's a very reductionist view of the problem, especially since a lot of times hormonal methods can help decrease or eliminate acne. This means it is not entirely genetics that determines your chances of having acne (but certainly a factor), but that there are other contributing factors. If you suffer from acne, especially cystic acne, there can be relief for you!

[chxrrysangel]

Thinking really hard about Mr. Logan Howlett this week. Haven’t even watched Deadpool & Wolverine yet but the Hugh Jackman renaissance is making me FERAL.

ANYWAYS

Logan has always been a hands on kind of guy. Always the “better to do it yourself than trust someone else” you know? So when your dear next neighbor has some car issues, he refuses to call up the local mechanic.

It’s summer, 90+ degrees outside and humid like a motherfucker. On what’s typically a quiet morning during days like this, too hot for even the local kids to venture outside, you hear some clinking and what sounds oddly enough like a drill. Peeking through the curtains, your eyes scan the mostly empty street to see Logan bent over the hood of his car.

And he’s shirtless.

Even from this distance, you can see his flushed skin glisten with sweat as he works. You fall into a daze, how could you not? It would take being blind to not notice how hot your neighbor was, and your brain never failed to forget it. His jeans hung somewhat low on his hips, hugging his strong thighs in a way that made anyone salivate with need. His back muscles were a sight to behold, straining and shifting as he worked.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, turning around to lean against the bumper. You panicked, ducking your head out of his sight. You angled yourself in a way that would hopefully obscure your compromising position, decreasing your chances of a potential complaint. From this new position, you found it even harder to move away from the window. He was perfect chiseled and toned, almost as if he was crafted by the gods themselves.

“Fucking hell,” you whispered.

The longer you stared was the more flushed you felt, unable to pull away as he moved to work under the car. The two of you hadn’t spoken more than a minute at a time, but his charming demeanor quickly enticed you. Just then, you got an idea.

Scrambling to the kitchen and almost slipping on the hardwood, you gathered your ingredients. By the looks of it, he’d be outside for quite a while. What kind of neighbor would you be if you didn’t offer him a drink?

A little bit later, you stood in front of the mirror trying to work up some courage. Giving yourself a little pep talk and a little minute shot of liquid courage, you ventured outside with a tray and the brightest smile you could muster. Upon hearing your footsteps and the soft clinks of ice, he turned around before you had the chance to call out.

And he smiled, canines on full display and cheekbones puffy with glee.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Your cheeks heat up at his compliment, feeling bashful.

“Stop, you’re too kind.”

“Never that,” he retorted with a wink. He points to the strawberry printed tray in your arms.

“Some of that for me?”

“As a matter of fact, it is. Thought you could use a drink.” He gushed, taking the tall glass cup gratefully. You set down the pitcher and tray on his tool kit, planning to come back for it later.

“Well uh…call me if you need anything else yeah?”

He didn’t respond at first, choosing that moment to make your escape before you ran your mouth.

“Wait.” You paused mid-step, turning back to face him.

“I could use some company…if you don’t mind that is.”

“No, no. I’d like that,” you responded, stumbling over your words.

“Yeah?,” he said with a boyish surprise in his tone. You assured him with a nod and smile.

“Lemme get you a seat then. Be right back.” You watched as he wiped the grease off his hands, jogging past you to get a chair from inside. Even covered in sweat and grime, he was hottest man you’ve ever seen.

[ruth-odyssey]

༺✩༻ D is for Dangerous

mattheo riddle x fem!reader

wc. 2k

summary: after pairing up with a slytherin for a potion project, you somehow find yourself unable to tear away from him  

tw. fem!reader, reader is implied to be a gryffindor and not British but I don't mention it alot, reader is kinda awkward and has a crude humor (based on my own ngl). My poor attempt at explaining how I make friends. Set in sixth year but we gon pretend everyone is 17 (it's for the plot bear with me) and voldy died so we dont worry about him :)

a/n. Hello! This is my first fic so pls be nice. Started as a theo fic but my moot @celestia-5o5 said reader had more chemistry with mattheo so I changed it. Part 2 should be up pretty soon :) btw 10 galleons is like 73.5 usd

part 2

Potions are fun, well usually it is. You see, Professor Slughorn has a way of making his classes fun and the hardest potions seem like lightwork as long as you have a functioning brain and some sense of what you’re doing. What isn't fun on the other hand are group projects. Sure pairing up with your friends is nice; you know them and you’re sure they'll do their work. But not with people you don't know. So when Slughorn announced at the end of class that the class would have to prepare amortentia in pairs of his choice, you were ready to beg your ancestors for a partner willing to do at least some of the work. But to your demise (and the whole class really) Slughorn announced the pairs would be from different houses in order to ‘improve inter house relationships’, sending a pointed look at Potter and Malfoy. A list was stuck to the board and that was that. 

Sighing as you pack your things, you make your way to the board where a couple of your classmates have crowinding up. You get on your tiptoes, trying to find your family name on the page. (l/n),  (l/n),  (l/n).... Ah it's there! And next to it… Riddle. You press your lips together, turning your head to find the Slytherin. You're not quite sure how the boy even got in Slughorn advanced potion class but you still hope he’ll do his part. At least I could get him to freeze the Ashwinder eggs since it's a pain…” As you try to spot him, you hear a loud “Who the bloody hell is (l/n)” Turning around you finally spot him, he’s sitting on a desk, next to Malfoy, somehow spotting his name a few meters away from the board. His eyes meet your unimpressed one, and he flashes you his signature smirk. You give him a once over, trying your best not to roll your eyes. He makes his way to you, stopping in front of you. 

“Looks like we’re partners huh?” he looks at you with a look you assume makes girls eat in the palm of his hand. Boys…. “I'm going to the library after class, let's meet up there to slip up the ingredient prep.” He surveys your face, nodding. You leave the classroom, hurrying up the stairs to your transfiguration class.

—————————————

“Ok we’re gonna need to ask Slughorn to give us some pearl dust, from his personal collection, can you take care of that?” You glance up from your notebook to a seemingly uninterested Mattheo. “Are you even listening?” he glances up “Yeah you’re asking me to fetch the pearl dust.” Ok well maybe the project wouldn’t be so bad. Mattheo straightened up, resting his elbow on the table, joining his hands together. “So tell me, how come I've never heard of you before?” You close your notebook, leaning on your chair, “we never talked before today.” He smirks “Actually I dont think I’ve ever seen you talk to anyone before? Do you even have friends?” You raise an eyebrow, unsure why he seems so interested. “I do have friends…” you cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. He raised his hands in defeat “hey can't blame me for being curious”. 

Fortunately for you, Mattheo, while being mostly clueless about potion, was willing to both help and learn, taking some task of the amortentia making process upon himself. The month quickly passed, and the potion turned out to be a success. Slughorn was pleasantly surprised by your grade, especially when you confirmed that Matheo did part of it. Which brings you to your current predicament; Matheo and you, standing in front of Slughorn’s desk, waiting for the last of your classmates to leave. “Miss.(l/n), I’d like for you to tutor Mr. Riddle for a few months.” Your eyes widen, taken aback by the professor’s request. “Uhm, professor, may I ask why me?” Slughorn smiles, gathering some paper on his desk, which you assume is for his next class. “I know you are a talented student, Miss.(l/n), and you and Mr. Riddle seems to be quite the team. The potion’s quality was excellent and if what you told me about Mr. Riddle's contribution to it is indeed true… you might be able to help him raise his grades.” He gestures towards Mattheo, continuing “Mr. Riddle here is a talented quidditch player and while I know he doesn't play in your house’s team,  it would truly be a shame if he couldn't play the upcoming seasons because of his grades…” You glance at Mattheo, who sends you a sheepish look. “I.. I'll do it” Mattheo’s eyes widen “really? You will?” you nod, and Slughorn clasp his hands together bleaming. “Excellent, truly admirable Miss.(l/n), it seems you two are the only ones who truly grasped the point of this project!” Seemingly happy with himself, the professor continues talking to himself. You and Mattheo share a look, and decide it might be best to leave. The walk back to the Great Hall is quiet. As you take the stairs to get to transfiguration class he stops you. “Hey I just wanted to say thank you for accepting to tutor me even though” he gestures between the two of you “it's nice I appreciated it.” He smiles and you think Slytherins can't all be bad. You shake your head “no problem, don't mention it… also, the whole Gryffindor and Slytherin should be sworn enemies thing… it's not really my thing so I don't mind… but just because I'm tutoring you doesn't mean I'll cheer for you out there.” you can help but smile. He seems surprised but he simply returns your smile and nods, leaving for his next class. 

—————————————

In the first few days you spend tutoring Mattheo you learn a few things. First, all Slytherins aren't stuck ups who believe in blood purity rank, Mattheo and his older brother Tom – and their half-blood status — proved that. Secondly, if there was one thing Mattheo did know, it was quidditch. He’d started playing in second year as a chaser, and he's good, really good. And Thirdly, he had a knack to make you feel at ease, going as far as making your tutoring lessons enjoyable. Well maybe a little too much…..

Leaning back on his chair, Mattheo looks at you.“You know, you aren’t as serious as I originally thought.” You look up from your notebook. “What do you mean?” He smiles as he speaks. “When I first saw you, I assumed you were super serious and reserved.” You think for a moment, answering him with a shrug. “I guess, I’m pretty introverted, I usually make friends when extroverted people adopt me.” Mattheo burst out laughing, earning a disapproving look from Mrs. Pince – the librarian. You shush him, glaring. “Be quiet!! We’re gonna get kicked out because you’re too loud.” Mattheo lowers his voice, trying to keep his laugh to a minimum. “I'm sorry, it's just that I pictured an abandoned kitten in a box when you said that.” You look at him bewildered. “It's a metaphor????” Mattheo takes a deep breath, trying to calm down his laughter. “I know it’s a metaphor but it's the funniest one I’ve ever heard.” You start laughing silently. “Why are you people like this??” Mattheo pretends to be offended by the friendly jab. “How dare you bring my country into this?!” You facepalm, taking a deep breath. “Mattheo this has nothing to do with England,  you’re the most unserious person I’ve ever met, you would laugh at a piece of toast falling.” Mattheo raises his voice, trying to defend himself, a smile tugging his lips. “I do NOT find humor in a piece of toast falling!” He pauses for a moment, his smiles widening further. “Ok maybe I do, but that's beside the point!” The b0th of you continue cracking j0kes until Mrs. Pince has to – quite literally – ask you to leave. Matthew bites back his laugh, sending an apologetic look at Mrs. Pince. “Of course, we were just leaving.” Packing your bags, you leave the library in a hurry.

“I can't believe it, we actually got kicked out of the library” Mattheo’s eyes find yours, an incredulous look on his face, as if the idea of being kicked out of a library – for pretty much disturbing everyone – was inconceivable. You put a hand over your chest, struggling to breathe. “Wait, I literally can't breathe right now.” Mattheo continues laughing, a smile on his face. “We got kicked out of the library….” His face fall suddenly realising what happened “MERLIN’S BEARD WE GOT KICKED OUT OF THE FUCKING LIBRARY!!” “MATTHEO QUIET DOWN!!!” He covers his mouth, realizing how loud he just was. He turns to you whispering. “If they tell Slughorn I’m totally getting detention,” You shake your head, “It's fine we were just a bit loud, they won't give you detention for that… right?” Mattheo passes a hand through his hair, looking around the hallway. “Who knows, maybe Dumbeldore will decide to give me detention AND make us pay for a library pass..” He lowers his voice, seeing some very confused Ravenclaws nearby, staring skeptically. 

You sign “Man I'm too broke for library pass….” Mattheo dramatically puts a hand over his heart, pretending to be heartbroken. “You can't afford the 10 galleons?? Me neither.” You turn your head towards him. “Charging us 10 galleons for a library pass is crazy” Mattheo shrugs, acting as if 10 galleons is pocket change. “Well if it's the price to pay to enter the forbidden lands of the library...” He glanced at you, cracking a smile. Doubling up with laughter, you shake your head as you start walking “shut up Riddle.” Mattheo laughs as well, catching up to you. “I mean, it was kinda your fault we got kicked out.” “ME??? I did nothing! YOU are the trouble maker mister!” Mattheo crosses his arm, offended. “Why am I the one being pinned as a troublemaker?! YOU were the one that kept laughing!” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving you a slight shove. “Dang and you also hit women huh?” Mattheo looks at you horrified, almost tripping on air. “I do NOT hit women. And even if I did, THAT wasn't even a hit! It was a shove, a light one at that.”

—————————————

As it turns out, you were indeed right; Slytherins – despite their house’s history – are not all wicked people destined to use black magic. Mattheo, judging you were close enough, decided to introduce you to his group and friend. Draco, Blaise, Lorenzo, Theodore and Pansy. Blaise, despite his cold facade, quickly became a brotherly figure, always saving you seats, and making sure no one was giving you trouble. Lorenzo, while being a slytherin, was a ray of sunshine, always lifting the mood, and eager for gossip. Speaking of gossip, the amount of information Pansy had told you over the few weeks you’ve known her was appalling. The sheer amount of detail was enough that you knew she definitely had to have inside sources in every house. Theodore on the other hand was nothing short but quiet and sleepy. The boy – while being described as an excellent student by his teachers – had a habit of falling asleep pretty much everywhere. You once found him sleeping, a lit cigarette in his mouth. Mattheo assured you it was a common occurrence and that the boy was indeed all right. 

As for Draco, even the ‘wicked’ prince of Slytherin – or blond ferret depending who you’re asking – isn't as wicked as he is said to be. Annoying and pretentious? Yes. But also extremely fun to annoy. “I’ll let you know that the Malfoys are part of the Sacred 28!” He says, clearly proud of his pure-blood heritage. You exchange a look with Blaise, who starts laughing as if he knew exactly what you were itching to say. You look back at Draco, cracking a smile “You guys must really like to keep it in the family, huh?” It takes him a few seconds to realize the innuendo, while the whole group bursts out laughing. He looks baffled, and for a few seconds you think he just might try to hex you. “I- How dare you. We do not practice incest!” He crosses his arms over his chest, sulking – yes the famous prince of Slytherin is sulking – “Oh come on Malfoy don't be a baby I only was joking.” Your apology drowning in the sound of laughter. 

[soulofapatrick]

They Find Out You're Pregnant: One Piece Boys

Summary: How each boy finds out you're pregnant

Words: 5.7K altogether

warnings: unplanned pregnancy but mostly fluff

Y/N's POV

The scent of sizzling spices fills the air as Sanji orchestrated a culinary symphony in the Thousand Sunny’s kitchen. His deft hands move with practiced grace, a dance that spoke of passion and expertise but for once his cooking wasn’t what got my attention. I’m sidling around Sanji, who’s lost in his world of sizzling pans and aromatic spices. The kitchen is his main, a place where he commands both ingredients and flames with the finesse of a maestro. Today, however, my attention isn’t fixed on his culinary mastery. It’s drawn, instead, to the sizeable tub of salted caramel ice cream tucked away in the freezer, calling to me with its irresistible allure. 

With a casual lean, I snag a spoon from the drawer and make a beeline for the freezer. The cold air greets me as I retrieve the tub, feeling its frosty chill through the container. My taste buds dance in anticipation; there’s something about this particular flavour that has become inexplicably magnetic. 

Returning to the kitchen island, I take a seat, propping myself up on one of the stools, spoon in hand. Sanji, ever engrossed in his culinary creation, doesn’t seem to notice my ice cream indulgence. He moves with a fluidity that’s almost hypnotic, each movement deliberate and purposeful. 

I twist off the lid of the ice cream tub, the gentle scent of caramel filling the air. With a satisfying clink, the spoon dips into the creamy goodness, gathering a generous scoop. As I lift it to my lips, the richness of the caramel mixed with the slight saltiness dances on my taste buds, a delightful sensation that brings an unexpected comfort.

Glancing over at Sanji, I marvel at his expertise. Despite my seemingly distracted state, his instincts as a chef seem to extend beyond just the realm of cooking. His attention to detail is impeccable, noticing even the subtlest shifts in preferences. Sanji hums a tune under his breath, his focus unwavering. I continue to enjoy my impromptu dessert, relishing the smooth, cold sweetness against the backdrop of Sanji's culinary artistry. 

As Sanji begins to fry food, the enticing aroma of spices fills the air once more. He orchestrates the sizzle and crackle of ingredients in a symphony of flavours, the tantalising scent mingling with the lingering sweetness of the ice cream. But as I sit there, spoon poised for another scoop, an unexpected wave of nausea washes over me. The once delightful taste of caramel now feels overwhelming. With a sudden heaviness, I place the tub of ice cream on the counter, the thud echoing louder than intended.

Sanji glances over, concern etching into his features as he notices my abrupt change in demeanour. "Are you alright, my love?” His voice, laced with worry, cuts through the sounds of the kitchen.

I manage a weak nod, but the queasiness intensifies. Without another word, I push myself off the stool and dash towards the bin, my footsteps echoing in the galley. The retching sounds reverberate in the room, a stark contrast to the harmonious melody of Sanji's cooking. Embarrassment floods me as I lean against the counter, my breaths ragged, trying to steady myself. Sanji, ever the attentive soul, swiftly moves closer, concern etched in every line of his face.

“Maybe it’s… yeah, it’s the combination of flavours.” I manage between breaths, feeling utterly mortified at the sudden turn of events. An anxiety plating in the back of my mind as I’m late for my period and have been for a week now but that’s not that unusual with the resent stresses. 

Sanji's worry melts into understanding, his eyes softening with compassion. "It happens," he reassures, his hand resting gently on my back. "Sometimes, tastes change unexpectedly. Let's get you some water.” With Sanji’s comforting assurance, I try to shake off the unease gripping me. As he moves to fetch water, a sudden surge of panic knots my stomach. My mind races, the memory of my late period lingering like an unspoken secret.

“Sanji,” I blurt out, my voice quivering, catching him mid-step. His brows furrow in concern. As he turns back to me, his expression a blend of care and curiosity, “I’m late…” I manage to confess, my words stumbling out in a rush. Embarrassment and anxiety collide, painting a flush across my cheeks. 

“Late…?” His voice trails off as he tries to understand me, brows furrowed. 

I tug gently at his wrist, feeling a desperate need for support, for someone to share this unexpected worry with. "I don't know what to do, Sanji. It’s been a week, and… and I don't know if it’s just stress or…”

With my confession hanging between us, Sanji's eyes widen in realisation, the pieces clicking together as my distress becomes palpable. Before either of us can utter another word, another wave of nausea overwhelms me, and I lurch towards the bin once more, heaving with a force that leaves me breathless. Sanji’s concern deepens as he rushes to my side, his hands instinctively reaching for a glass of water. "Here, drink this," he urges gently, his voice laced with worry.

Gasping for air, I manage to steady myself and accept the water, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude. Sanji's swift actions and unwavering support feel like an anchor in this sudden storm of uncertainty. 

”Come on," he says softly, guiding me towards the nearby couch, his arm securely wrapped around my shoulder. He kneels in front of me, his eyes searching mine with a mix of concern and care. "Are you sure?” 

I nod weakly, the weight of the moment heavy on my shoulders. "As sure as I can be," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing second. Sanji's expression softens, his hand gently resting on mine. "We'll figure this out together," he assures, his voice filled with a determination to be there every step of the way, “I love you so much. We’re gonna be parents.” 

Y/N's POV

The sea breeze whips through my hair as I stand on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, watching the waves dance beneath the golden sunlight. Another adventure alongside Luffy and the crew—a thrilling escapade filled with laughter, battles and unforeseen challenges. 

But lately, there’s something different. A subtle fatigue creeps in, and I find myself yawning during moments of respite. It’s unlike me, the one who is usually brimming with boundless energy. Yet, I brush it off, attributing it to the rigorous journey. Each day brings its own set of adventures, and with it, an inexplicable weariness that shadows my every step. Yawning becomes a constant companion, stealing moments of wakefulness in between our exploits. Climbing rigging, engaging in battles, and exploring uncharted territories—all thrilling, yet each exertion seems to compound this unexplained exhaustion.

There's a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, a whisper of something unfamiliar. It tugs at my thoughts during quiet moments, a persistent reminder that something isn’t quite as it should be. Yet, I struggle to grasp its elusive form, brushing it aside amidst the excitement of our journey. 

The crew carries on, oblivious to my inner turmoil, their spirits high as they revel in the thrill of the adventure. Luffy’s infectious laughter, Zoro’s unwavering determination, Nami’s calculating mind—all paint a vibrant picture against the backdrop of the vast ocean. Amidst the chaos and camaraderie, I can’t help but feel a sense of detachment, a solitary island amidst the bustling sea. My fatigue persists, a constant companion whose origin remains an enigma.

Luffy, with his endless curiosity and knack for noticing the smallest details, seems to pick up on my weariness before I even acknowledge it. He catches me dozing off during our travels, his wide grin turning into a puzzled expression. 

"Hey, Y/N! Are you okay?" His voice, filled with genuine concern, cuts through the hustle and bustle of our adventurous escapades. 

I nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a bit tired. It's nothing, really.” 

Luffy's concern persists, evident in the furrow of his brows as he gazes at me with unwavering attention. His wide, innocent eyes betray his curiosity, searching for answers that even I can't provide. "You sure?" He asks, his voice tinged with a childlike sincerity that tugs at my heartstrings. 

Luffy’s concern, like an unwavering beacon of warmth, persists despite my feeble attempts to brush off my weariness. He shifts closer, his arms encircling me in an unexpected but comforting embrace from behind. His embrace is gentle yet reassuring, as if he could shield me from the exhaustion I can't shake. I can't help but chuckle softly at the suddenness of his affection, feeling a sense of ease washing over me as I lean back slightly, finding an unexpected comfort in his embrace. The weariness that had been pulling me down seems to dissipate for a moment, the warmth of his care a soothing balm to my tired soul.

But even amidst this comfort, Luffy’s intuition remains unyielding. His embrace lingers just a moment longer, his gaze still searching for answers, as if he could decipher the unspoken truths hidden behind my worn-out facade. His childlike sincerity tugs at my heart, urging me to share what I can't quite articulate.

"I'll be fine, Luffy," I say softly, trying to reassure both him and myself, though doubt niggles at the edges of my words. His concern is a testament to his unwavering loyalty and care, a reflection of the bonds we share as a crew. 

Despite my attempts at reassurance, Luffy's gaze holds a depth of understanding that transcends words. He doesn't press further, but the lingering concern in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent promise to stand by me, no matter what uncertainties lie ahead. And as we carry on with our adventures, I find solace in the unspoken support of a friend who seeks to understand even the mysteries hidden beneath a worn-out smile.

His wide eyes dart between mine, a silent conversation unfolding, his desire to understand evident in the furrow of his brows. And with that unspoken exchange, he reluctantly accepts my explanation, bounding off with a promise to resume our adventure. He heads off in the direction of Nami and Robin who are talking quietly, asking them something that has them squealing and gushing over something and the three begin tot talk animatedly but too far away for me to hear. 

It doesn’t take long for me to find out as Luffy’s is calling for my attention, “Hey, Y/N!” His voice is tinged with excitement. His finger points at something I hadn’t even noticed,— my slightly protruding belly, a subtle change that had slipped under my own radar as I just thought I had put on weight from the feasts Luffy makes Sanji make for us, “I think you’re gonna have a baby!” His exclamation echoes across the deck, his unfiltered joy a testament to his unique perspective on life. 

The crew halts, their expressions ranging from astonishment to joyous disbelief. I stand frozen, stunned by Luffy’s innocent declaration, a revelation that I had yet to fathom. In the moment that follows Luffy’s proclamation, a bewildering realisation sweeps over me. His words—“you’re gonna have a baby”—linger in the air, and as the crew's astonished gazes shift between us, it finally dawns on Luffy that he's not just declaring my news; he's announcing his own impending fatherhood. 

His wide eyes widen further, mirroring the astonishment painted across the faces of our crewmates. And then, in a flash of comprehension, a radiant grin spreads across Luffy's face, an uncontainable joy that sparks a cascade of laughter. "Wait, wait, wait! We're having a baby?!" His voice rings out, his expression a mix of disbelief and unadulterated happiness. 

Without another thought, Luffy bounds over to me, his infectious laughter filling the air. He scoops me up in his arms, spinning us both around in a whirlwind of uncontainable joy. Laughter erupts from him, a symphony of excitement and wonder as he revels in the revelation. "We're having a baby!" His exclamation echoes across the deck, a declaration that marks the beginning of a new, unforeseen chapter in our adventures. 

The crew, initially stunned by Luffy's proclamation, now erupts into cheers and congratulatory exclamations, their astonishment giving way to celebration. Amidst the whirlwind of laughter and cheers, Luffy's sheer delight becomes infectious, melting away any lingering shock. And as he continues to spin us both around, his joy becomes mine, intertwining our destinies in this unexpected, thrilling journey toward parenthood.

Y/N's POV

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the Thousand Sunny. It's a peaceful afternoon, the gentle sway of the ship lulling me into a sense of tranquility amid our bustling adventures. Zoro, the swordsman of unwavering determination, has always possessed an uncanny ability to notice the subtlest of changes. Today, however, would mark the day he’d discern a change within me that I hadn't yet comprehended.

I find myself sitting at the ship's bow, the soothing melody of the waves a comforting companion as I stare out into the horizon. The day had started like any other, yet a lingering unease gnaws at the edges of my thoughts, a sense of unfamiliarity that dances just beyond reach.

Zoro’s presence, like a shadow eternally by my side, draws closer. He settles nearby, his stoic gaze fixed on the horizon. "Something on your mind?" His voice, gruff yet tinged with a subtle concern, pierces the calm.

I shake my head, trying to dismiss the disquiet that has nestled itself within me. "Just thinking," I reply with a forced smile, hoping to brush off the weight of my contemplation.

But Zoro, with his unwavering perceptiveness, doesn’t seem convinced. He turns slightly towards me, his gaze assessing, as if trying to decipher the unspoken layers of my thoughts. His eyes, a testament to his keen observation, seem to search for answers that even I'm not yet ready to acknowledge.

As the day stretches into twilight, I notice Zoro's observations becoming more pronounced. He notices the slightest changes—a subtle fatigue in my stance during practice, a hesitancy in my movements that betray a newfound caution.

"Training not going as planned?" he asks casually, a hint of curiosity laced in his words.

I chuckle softly, attempting to mask the undercurrent of uncertainty. "Just feeling a bit off today, I guess."

Under the tangerine hues of the evening sky, Zoro’s scrutiny becomes more palpable. Each swing of my practice sword seems to carry an unusual weight, my movements betraying a faltering rhythm I can't seem to shake. Zoro, a steadfast presence beside me, doesn’t miss a beat. His intense focus during our training sessions amplifies, his watchful gaze tracking every subtle shift in my stance, every hesitancy that sneaks into my strikes.

“Having trouble finding your footing?” His question, tossed casually into the air, holds a knowing undertone that catches me off guard. I offer a fleeting smile, a feeble attempt to cloak the turmoil brewing beneath the surface but I wave off his concerns. 

But Zoro, with his uncanny ability to read between the lines, doesn’t let the matter slide. His observant nature persists, his inquiries wrapped in the guise of casual conversation, yet laden with an unwavering determination to unravel the mystery veiled within my uncharacteristic unease. As the sun begins its descent, casting shadows that dance across the ship’s deck, Zoro’s gaze lingers, a silent sentinel amidst the encroaching dusk. His dedication to noticing the subtleties, the nuances that escape ordinary observation, serves as an unspoken reassurance in the face of my growing uncertainty.

The day had settled into a tranquil calmness, the colours of the sky merging into a breathtaking canvas of oranges and purples as the sun dipped toward the horizon. Zoro's concern had become a constant companion, a silent understanding that had evolved beyond mere words.

"Feeling better?" He asks one day, his voice holding a touch of solemnity that catches me off guard.

I hesitate, feeling the weight of his gaze. "Not quite myself, to be honest," I admit reluctantly, feeling a sense of relief in sharing even a fraction of my uncertainty.

Zoro’s expression softens imperceptibly, a rare gesture from the stoic swordsman. "If something's on your mind, you know you can talk about it, right?" His words, though simple, carry an unspoken promise of support. 

I lean into his touch, finding an unexpected solace in his gesture. Resting my head on his sturdy shoulder, we both gaze out at the horizon, where the sun casts its final golden rays over the endless expanse of water.The tranquility of the moment envelops us, a sanctuary within the tumultuous uncertainty. Words become unnecessary as the serenity of the scene seems to bridge the unspoken gap between us. The weight of my worries feels a little lighter, shared in the unspoken language of companionship and understanding.

“I think I’m pregnant.” I mumble and Zoro's hand, which had been gently clasping mine, tightens slightly at my confession. His gaze, usually steady and composed, flickers with a blend of surprise and an emotion I can't quite place. For a fleeting moment, the tranquility of our shared moment is replaced by a charged energy—an anticipation that crackles between us. His grip on my hand relaxes, only to shift purposefully, cupping my chin with a tenderness that catches me off guard. His eyes, a storm of emotions, meet mine, and without a word, he pulls me closer, closing the distance between us with a possessive intensity.

In that instant, our lips meet in a fervent kiss, a silent affirmation of the unspoken dreams that had nestled in the depths of our shared future. His kiss is filled with a passionate reassurance, a promise of unwavering support and a newfound sense of purpose that we hadn't realised we were seeking. 

As the golden hues of the setting sun paint the sky with their final strokes, our connection feels more profound than ever, transcending the unspoken barriers that once stood between us. The weight of my revelation seems to dissipate in the warmth of his embrace, replaced by an overwhelming sense of unity and anticipation for the journey ahead. 

When our lips finally part, the tranquility of the moment returns, albeit tinged with an exhilarating sense of possibility. Zoro’s eyes, though still reflecting surprise, hold an unwavering determination—a silent vow that together, we will embrace this new chapter, our shared future now intertwined with the unexpected joy of impending parenthood.

Y/N's POV

The Red Force sails calmly across the cast expanse of the sea, the ship’s sturdy frame cutting through the gentle waves with a reassuring rhythm. Shanks, the legendary and enigmatic pirate, is as astute as he is charismatic. Little did I know, he would be the first to sense the subtle shifts within me that heralded a new chapter in our lives. 

It begins with small gestures—a keen observation and a caring intervention—undetectable threats woven into the fabric of our daily interactions. Shanks, with his affable demeanour and keen intuition, notices the nuances I hadn’t yet recognised within myself. 

One tranquil evening aboard the ship, I reach for a glass of wine, eager to unwind after a day of adventure. Shanks, however, intercepts the bottle before I can take a sip from it, “Not tonight.” He murmurs with a gentle smile, his gaze filled with a knowing reassurance. 

Confusion clouds my features for a fleeting moment, but Shanks’ unwavering resolve speaks volumes. He offers no explanation, but his subtle gesture carries an unspoken wisdom that halts me in my tracks. A realisation flickers within me—an inkling that there might be more to Shanks’ intervention than meets the eye. 

As my hand instinctively reaches for the bottle once more, Shanks, with a graceful and deliberate motion, holds it just out of my grasp. His other arm, strong and reassuring, encircles my waist, drawing me closer until I’m pressed against him, our closeness enveloped by the gentle sway of the ship. Before I can voice my confusion or protest, Shanks silences any questions with a tender yet fervent kiss. His lips, a whisper against mine, convey a message that words couldn’t encapsulate—an unspoken reassurance, a depth of understanding that transcends any explanation.

Caught off guard by the unexpected intimacy of the moment, my initial confusion dissipates in the warmth of his embrace. There’s an inexplicable comfort in the way he holds me, in the way his lips mold against mine, as if he’s communicating a profound truth without uttering a single word. In that fleeting moment, amidst the whispers of the ocean breeze and the lull of the ship, I sense the depth of Shanks’ concern—a concern that goes beyond a simple denial of wine. His actions, though unconventional, carry an unspoken promise of protection, a silent vow to shield me from something I hadn’t yet comprehended.

As the tender moment lingers, Shanks whispers against my skin, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine. "Be a good girl and stick to water tonight," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of playfulness and genuine concern. His words carry a cryptic weight, an allusion to something I've yet to fathom. His nose nuzzles against the curve of my neck, a gesture that feels both protective and intimate. "Don't want to hurt our prodigy," he adds, his tone hinting at a revelation that eludes my understanding.

Confusion and curiosity dance within me as Shanks kisses my jaw once more before releasing me. He walks away, the bottle of wine in hand, leaving me to decipher the enigmatic puzzle he has laid out. His cryptic words linger in the air, stirring a flurry of thoughts and emotions. "Hurt our prodigy?" I mull over the phrase, trying to unravel its meaning amidst the waves of uncertainty that crash within me.

The realisation dawns gradually—a glimmer of understanding emerging from the depths of my contemplation. Shanks’ words, though veiled in ambiguity, carry a hidden truth—a truth that I'm hesitant to acknowledge but can't dismiss. Could it be? The notion takes root tentatively within my thoughts, an unspoken realisation that I might be carrying something precious, something that Shanks, with his astute intuition, has sensed long before I even considered the possibility. 

In a whirlwind of emotions and burgeoning realisations, I sprint to Shanks’ private quarters aboard the ship. The air crackles with a blend of uncertainty and a burgeoning anticipation that propels me forward. Racing through the door, I almost tear my shirt off, desperation guiding my movements as I position myself before the mirror.

 With an anxious breath, I angle myself sideways, my eyes searching for the slightest hint of change. There it is—a subtle curve, a gentle swell that hadn’t been there before. My hand hesitantly hovers over my stomach, tracing the faint outline, a tangible proof of the truth that begins to solidify in my mind. 

Before I can fully grasp the enormity of the revelation, strong and familiar arms envelop me from behind, gently covering my hands that rest upon my stomach. Shanks, with a silent understanding that transcends words, rests his chin on my shoulder, a comforting presence in this whirlwind of emotions. Tears blur my vision, a mixture of disbelief and an overwhelming rush of emotions cascading through me. Shanks' quiet embrace, his unspoken support, serves as a grounding force amidst the storm of thoughts racing through my mind.

In the mirrored reflection, I glance at Shanks, my voice laden with uncertainty, "You're not upset?" His frown, reflected in the glass, catches me off guard, stirring a fresh wave of apprehension within me.

Shanks gently turns me around to face him, his expression softening into a gentle smile. "Upset? Y/N, I've never been more thrilled," he confesses, his voice a steady reassurance that eases the knot of worry in my chest. "I've wanted this with you, with all my heart.” His words, laden with sincerity and unwavering affection, wash over me like a soothing balm. In that tender moment, surrounded by the depth of his love and his longing for a future we hadn't anticipated, the flood of emotions begins to settle.

As I process his heartfelt confession, Shanks’ demeanour takes on a mischievous glint. "Now, why don’t you get undressed?" he suggests, his voice a playful tease, though his eyes burn with an intensity that stirs a different kind of heat within me. 

Surprised by the sudden shift in tone, my cheeks flush crimson. "Shanks, I..." I stammer, momentarily taken aback by his unexpected boldness but then again it was Shanks. But before I can protest further, his lips capture mine in a fervent kiss, a passionate affirmation of his desire and unwavering affection. His hands trail down my sides, urging me gently to comply with his playful suggestion. 

In that moment, amidst the emotions and revelations, a sense of exhilaration surges through me—a shared understanding that despite the unexpected turn of events, our love and passion for each other remain as fiery and unyielding as ever. And as we lose ourselves in the passionate embrace, the uncertainties and worries of impending parenthood momentarily fade into the background, replaced by an intense and intimate connection that binds us together in this newfound chapter of our lives.

Y/N's POV

The Thousand Sunny basks in the warm sunlight as a peaceful day unfolds on the seas. The tranquility is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Dracule Mihawk, the enigmatic and formidable swordsman. His presence aboard our ship sends a ripple of curiosity among the crew, but for me, it's a moment of both surprise and delight. 

I rush to meet him as he steps aboard the ship, his sharp gaze meeting mine with an inscrutable intensity. His usual stoic demeanour remains unchanged, but a subtle warmth flickers in his eyes as he greets me with a restrained nod. 

“Mihawk.” I breathe, a mix of excitement and curiosity lacing my voice, “What brings you here?” 

He inclines his head slightly, his tone softening imperceptibly, “I wished to see you, nothing more.” As he speaks, I feel a pang of discomfort building within me—a sudden wave of nausea that threatens to overwhelm me. I try to hide it, but Mihawk's perceptive nature doesn't let it slip by unnoticed. His brow furrows ever so slightly, a minute indication of concern. "Are you feeling unwell?" he inquires, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic gentleness.

I attempt to shrug it off, summoning a weak smile. "Just a passing thing, nothing to worry about.” But Mihawk, with his keen observation skills, remains unconvinced. His scrutiny intensifies as he observes me closely, a silent but unmistakable display of attentiveness. As the discomfort escalates, I find myself rushing to the ship's railing, a sudden urge to empty my stomach. The violent bout of vomiting catches both Mihawk and me off guard. 

Concern etches itself onto Mihawk's otherwise impassive features as he moves closer, his hand resting lightly on my back. "This doesn’t seem like 'nothing,'" he observes, his voice tinged with a hint of worry. 

I try to downplay it, despite the relentless churning in my stomach. "Just a bug, probably," I manage between strained breaths, attempting to mask the unease bubbling within me.

But Mihawk, with his unyielding intuition, sees through the facade. "It's more than that," he asserts, his gaze penetrating, seeking answers I'm not yet prepared to acknowledge. The silence between us is charged with unspoken questions, an undercurrent of concern that we both struggle to articulate. Despite my attempts to evade the truth, Mihawk's perceptive nature latches onto the possibility that eludes my own awareness. "Have you noticed any other changes?" His inquiry is gentle but direct, his unwavering gaze locking onto mine. 

I hesitate, grappling with the enormity of what his question implies. "I... I'm not sure," I falter, the weight of his question sinking in. 

Mihawk nods thoughtfully, his expression unreadable yet filled with a palpable sense of understanding. "Let's find out," he suggests, guiding me to a quiet corner of the ship where we can speak privately. The rest of the crew disappearing back downstairs to give us privacy as they can gage the seriousness of the conversation Mihawk and I need to have. 

He sits on the bench and I go to join him, sitting next to him, but in one smooth move he pulls me onto his lap with a surprising ease. His arms wrap securely around my waist, ensuring I’m steady against the rhythmic movements of the vessel. His touch, though firm, carries a comforting assurance, ground me amidst the uncertainty that hangs in the air. 

In the cocoon of his embrace, I feel a rush of emotions—vulnerability, anticipation, and a glimmer of hope intertwined. Mihawk’s presence, his unspoken support, is a reassuring beacon of amidst the tempest feelings swirling within me. He leans in closer, his voice a soft murmur against my ear, “We’ll figure this out.” His words, through simple, carry a weight of determination and a promise of solidarity that resonates deep within me. 

With a steadying breath, I meet his gaze, finding an unexpected solace in the depths of his eyes. The unspoken understanding between us weaves an invisible bond, strengthening our resolve to face the unknown together. As the ship rocks gently with the ocean's sway, our private conversation unfolds—a candid exchange filled with a raw honesty that transcends words. Mihawk listens attentively, his silence a canvas for the emotions and uncertainties I pour out.

“I’ve missed my period Mi,” I tell him softly and Mihawk's demeanour remains composed, yet a subtle shift in his expression betrays a momentary pause, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. His touch, tender and deliberate as he brushes a strand of hair away from my eyes, betrays the depth of his emotions, concealed beneath his stoic facade. 

The weight of my revelation hangs between us, a pregnant silence punctuated only by the soft sounds of the ship slicing through the gentle waves. Mihawk’s eyes, usually enigmatic and inscrutable, now reflect a spectrum of emotions—concern, contemplation, and a hint of something deeper that I struggle to decipher. He exhales slowly, his gaze never leaving mine, the depths of his eyes a kaleidoscope of emotions. "I see," he responds softly, his voice steady but laced with an underlying current of consideration. 

As the words linger in the air, a wave of apprehension washes over me, uncertain of how he'll receive this unforeseen revelation. But Mihawk, with his characteristic composure, offers a calm reassurance, a quiet strength that anchors me amidst the tempest of emotions.

“Mi?” I ask quietly, shakily playing with the tufts of hair at the back of his head, twirling them through my fingers and avoiding his gaze as he’s a warlord of the sea, he’s not going to want a child, let alone a child with me. 

Mihawk’s hand, strong yet surprisingly gentle, intercepts mine, halting the nervous twirling of his hair. His touch redirects my attention, guiding my trembling fingers away from their anxious fidgeting. With deliberate intent, he lifts my chin, urging me to meet his gaze, his eyes unwavering as they lock onto mine, "Stop those thoughts," he commands, his voice firm but not harsh, resonating with an unspoken intensity. It's as if he can perceive the tumultuous whirlwind of doubts raging within me, and with his unwavering gaze, he attempts to quell the storm of insecurities that threaten to engulf me.

Before I can offer any protest, any further apprehensive whispers, his lips claim mine in a kiss that silences the racing thoughts in my mind. It's a kiss filled with a passion that defies the uncertainties, a kiss that speaks volumes of his unwavering affection and a desire to shield me from my own fears. As our lips meld in a fervent embrace, Mihawk's kiss becomes a testament to his commitment, a reassurance that transcends spoken words. In that moment, amid the tangle of emotions and swirling doubts, his lips become a lifeline, a beacon of certainty in the tumultuous sea of uncertainties.

The kiss lingers, a bridge between our unspoken fears and the unyielding depth of our connection. Mihawk's touch, his fervent kiss, convey a silent promise—a promise that echoes in the depths of my being, a promise that together, we will weather whatever storms lie ahead. As the kiss concludes, a serene tranquility settles within me, a newfound sense of assurance born from Mihawk's unwavering declaration through that intimate gesture. In the quiet aftermath, his gaze holds an unspoken understanding, a mutual acknowledgment that in each other's embrace, we'll find the strength to face the unforeseen challenges ahead. 

After the kiss, a soft yet resolute glint flickers in Mihawk's eyes as he gazes at me. His hand cups my cheek tenderly, his touch conveying a depth of emotion that words struggle to articulate. 

"Y/N," he begins, his voice a steady reassurance, "I want this. I want this child with you." His words, though measured, carry a weight of sincerity that resonates deeply within me, "You're not alone in this," he continues, his tone unwavering. "Whatever lies ahead, we'll face it together. I'm here, and I'm staying.”

The earnestness in his declaration pierces through my uncertainties, weaving a tapestry of assurance and commitment. His unwavering support, a promise anchored in his eyes and echoed in his words, becomes a beacon of hope amidst the labyrinth of doubts, "We'll navigate this, step by step," he assures, his voice a steadfast anchor in the tumultuous sea of uncertainties. "I'm with you every step of the way.” 

In that poignant moment, Mihawk's unwavering commitment and steadfast reassurance carve a path forward—a path illuminated by the warmth of his unwavering support and our shared determination to embrace the unexpected journey that lies ahead.

One Piece Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[hornydilfsinyourarea]

"𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙔 𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙔 𝙇𝙄𝙀𝙎, 𝙄'𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙔𝙊𝙐'𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙀 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙀"

Pairing: Yan! Joe Goldberg x Male Reader x Yan! Dexter Morgan (separate)

Uhh, this is my first time doing this, this is mostly an apology post, for being so lazy and holding the requests down and not posting as much as I should and yeah... truly sorry about that, but you can also see this as a teaser, topics I might just use for bots and stuff

Warning: Stalking (You are a stalker, you could also see it as you being a Yandere also), Yandere! Joe and Dexter, both are separate and in different universes (if that makes sense), NSFW topics!, You being a pervert, you are a bit creepy (you're a stalker, what did you exspect?), breaking and entering, spy cameras, Dexter and Joe get off to the fact that you are stalking THEM, these are headcannons, and not a fic, these are also bad and a bit short, I might make a part 2 if this gets to 200 likes, maybe, or 100 likes, if you guys like this, I might just make more, but don't expect this the be a regular thing, this isn't my groove, my groove is bot making, not fanfic writing

"𝘿𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙊?"

Dexter met you at a grocery store, he was trying to reach for something before seeing someone else's hand reach for it and take it, as he turned to look who did it, he saw you, and how you... so nicely gave him the item he was reaching for, the way your eyes subtly run up and down his body, as you said your good byes, Dexter's eyes didn't leave your form as you walked away, he knew he was hooked

Joe met you in the bookstore he worked at, you asked him for recommended books and where you can find a specific book, it was a good choice of book, you two talked about your favorite books too! The way you gave him your card after finding your book, you didn't have too, but you did... it was as if you wanted him to know you... to know your name... your face... everything, as you left, Joe could stop thinking about you... your voice, he knew he was hooked

"𝙄𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙎 𝘼 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙔 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏, 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝙎𝙊 𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙄𝙁𝙄𝙀𝘿"

When Dexter came back to his apartment, he didn't expect to see flowers on his kitchen counter and a... lunch box full of cooked food, it was food... that used the same ingredient you helped him reach, Dexter got home late... did you really go out of your way to break into his place and make him some food? How romantic! There was even a little note "Enjoy" — it read, Dexter couldn't help himself, smiling down at the gift you made for him, I mean... it must have been you? It must have!

When Joe got back to his flat, he didn't expect to see two roses on top of a book in his living room, as he got closer and picked the book up, he realized that it was a limited edition book, one who sold out years ago... it was his favorite book, one he loved to read, there was even a little note "Enjoy" — it read, Joe couldn't stop himself from smiling, what a romantic, you must have gotten it for him, I mean, you were the only one he told he even liked this book! So it must have been you! It must have been!

"𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝙀𝙀𝙋𝙃𝙊𝙇𝙀, 𝙒𝙀𝙇𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙒"

After stalking your love for a month now, you couldn't wait much longer, you wanted to see him, see him whole, so... well, you bought small cameras, and broke into their place while they weren't there, putting the cameras where they wouldn't notice, or so you hoped, you hid them good, he wouldn't be able to find it... would he?

Oh, but Dexter knew, he saw something shine in the corner of his eye, he knew what it was, now aren't you such a pervert?~ putting a camera in his bedroom, so bold... god did that turn him on, he couldn't help but tease you, purposely standing in the camera's point of view, slowly, but surely, taking off his shirt, unbuttoning each button slowly, Dexter was making sure he didn't look at the camera, he didn't want you to know he knew, Dexter liked the chase, the feeling of being wanted, he wanted to see how long it will take you before you break and take what you wanted, when Dexter got his shirt off, he turned around, now his back side turned to the camera, he then, also slowly, took his pants off, he knew he was giving you the perfect view of his ass, he bet you were even stroking your cock watching him undress, weren't you? Just the thought made him almost hard...

Now, Joe, he also saw a camera in the corner of his eye, "Such boldness..." Joe thought, biting his bottom lip, he did what he normally did for a few days, before he put his plan in action, Joe knew there was a spy camera in his room, you probably put it there to watch him sleep, hm? Such a caring stalker you are~ Joe made his way to his bed, laying on it, his hand going downwards, rubbing his crotch, till he could feel himself getting hard, whimpering as he teased himself before pulling his pants down, just to his knees, before he wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it slowly, his lips parted, letting out deep breathes as he thought about you, were you stroking your cock watching? Oh how he hoped so, he was doing this for you, hoping you're watching him, as Joe got harder and harder he help himself and started to stroke himself off faster and faster, his moans and whimpers getting louder, wanting to make himself look as submissive as possible, he really was putting on a show for you... it wasn't long before Joe climaxed, his cum landing on his hand, he made sure all of it landed on his hand before he slowly liked it off, he really... really hoped you liked the show~

"𝙎𝙃𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆 𝙐𝙋 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙋, 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙏 𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘿 𝘼𝙎 𝘼 𝙍𝙊𝘾𝙆"

I do not consent to my content being stolen, copied or reposted on other platforms, if you want to use these or inspired by this, CREDIT me and ASK me, please and thank you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: I couldn't help myself.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."

You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.

You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."

You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.

"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."

You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.

"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.

You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.

"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."

You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.

You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.

“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 

You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.

You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…

“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.

You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.

A message?

You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.

‘Looked delicious too.’

“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”

‘Don't mean the toast.’

The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.

“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”

You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.

“How about some tunes?” 

You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.

‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?

“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”

You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.

You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.

You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.

“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”

You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.

🧸

You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.

The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.

The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.

You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.

You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.

As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.

You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.

🧸

You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.

You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.

You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.

You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.

A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.

'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.

You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.

'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.

You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.

🧸

You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.

The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.

"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.

As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.

You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.

You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.

"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."

All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.

You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.

As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.

"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.

You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.

"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."

You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?

"You like sweet stuff."

"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.

He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.

You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.

"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.

"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."

You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.

"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.

"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.

"I could drive you. I have a truck."

"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.

"Why not?"

"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"

"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."

"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"

"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."

"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."

"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 

“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."

"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."

"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.

"That's nice but--"

"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."

You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.

"BourbonBear?" You ask.

"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”

[lixiesfreckless]

Let Him Cook | h. j.

➸ synopsis: Your husband is making dinner— or at least, he would be if you weren’t distracting him…

➸ starring: hong joshua x reader

➸ word count: ~900 words

➸ general content: husband!joshua, kissing, need I say more you’re gonna read the fic anyway

➸ rating: TV-14

➸ author’s note: co-written by @ashonheavenscloud in a game of frantic fanfic on the TRAIN??? if you’ve read my fic Sugar Across The Hall, this reads as a pseudo-bonus scene.

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! too good by christian kuria works pretty well hehehe

"Baby, you should take a picture," Joshua chuckles, dicing the tomato on the cutting board with ease, "it'll last longer."

"But my phone is so far away," you whine playfully, stretching your arms on the raised counter akin to a cat as you watch your husband work, not offering much more than the occasional flirty quip and lopsided smile.

Joshua clicks his tongue with a playful smile. “Guess you’re out of luck, then.” He quickly finishes the tomatoes, moving onto the head of lettuce and expertly cutting the leaves into shredded pieces. You dramatically fall limp, making Joshua chuckle.

“Really, I’m sure there’s nothing special about me cutting ingredients for tacos.”

“Not my fault you look so sexy doing it.”

Joshua laughs softly, a light blush rising on his cheeks as he slides the shredded leaves into a bowl and sets the knife down, leaning over the counter and gazing at you.

"Is that why you've been watching me?" He asks coyly, rolling up his sleeves to his forearms again as they had slipped down. "And here I thought you were attempting to learn something-”

"Oh, but I did," you respond, sliding a little closer to him, watching his amused gaze slide across your face. “Mostly that you’re a very talented chef. And I should buy you an apron and one of those white hats-”

“I think you’re just trying to butter me up so I cook for you more often.”

You gasp in fake astonishment. “That’s cruel, Josh.” You slide closer, close enough that he has to look down at you to see the mischief in your irises. He freezes for a second, looking to the ceiling, perhaps to find his restraint.

"What's cruel," he says suddenly, seizing you by the thighs and heaving you up onto the counter with ease, "is you looking as good as you are knowing if I don't finish cooking, neither of us will eat tonight."

"Oh but I can think of one thing I could eat right now," you giggle, reaching for the back of his neck as he leans into you instinctively.

You can hear him slide the cutting board slightly out of his way as he settles between your open thighs, not wasting a second to lean close and steal a lingering kiss. You both sigh into it, and Joshua’s smile widens as he runs his hands up your thighs and leans forward again, met halfway by your eagerness.

“So this is what you were after the whole time, huh?” Joshua mumbles against your lips, hands moving to slip around your waist, hooking his fingers through the loops of your jeans. “So much for loving my cooking.”

“Not my fault you’re so distracting,” you grin, earning another sigh, equal parts exasperated and adoring.

“Yeah, yeah, c’mere,” he pulls you closer, kisses you deeper, tugging at your bottom lip in a way that elicits a swarm of butterflies to take part in wild flight. His nose nudges yours, and you take the opportunity to pull away and look up at him, hands braced at the edge of the counter as you teasingly tilt your head to the side.

"Do you have any post-dinner plans, Mr. Hong?"

"Oh I do," he says, his voice an octave lower as he leans back in, "I'm going to be very busy."

He plants a long, deep kiss on your lips and travels west, trailing down your cheek. "I'm afraid there's a woman," he pauses to place another kiss, "and I just can’t seem to stop thinking about her.” His lips find your jawline, your ear. “She’s got this…hold on me. Her smile, her laugh, her…” his lips drift down your neck, hands moving to firmly grasp your waist as he pauses, nose brushing your throat. “Her…”

His voice fades away, mouth finding the base of your neck and sucking slowly, forcing you to bite your bottom lip against a whine. Joshua leans back after a minute, leaving the new mark tingling as he meets your eyes with a gentle smile that juxtaposes the way his eyes roaming your body, the way he grabs your chin and guides your lips back to his.

“She sounds like quite the woman,” you say through unsteady breaths, muffled before you can say much more by Joshua’s mouth capturing yours, pressing his body into you, cutting you off with a gasp. It takes a minute for you to get another chance at speaking, and hardly that, as your breathing comes in shaky when he pulls back again, eyes still closed, lingering within a breath from your lips. “She’s lucky to have someone as kind and sweet and-”

“Good at cooking?” Joshua suggests, making you giggle as he kisses your cheek again, once more trailing to the side as you nod slowly.

“The best.” Your hands weave through his hair at the back of his head, forcing him to look back at you with dazed eyes and a smile.

“She deserves it,” Joshua whispers, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. His mouth lifts further into a teasing grin. “She might even convince me to skip right past dinner.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

[solxamber]

Witch, Please- Floyd Leech x reader

You're the best witch to go to for getting the job done. Your potions? Absolutely foolproof. At least, that's what you thought until a certain Floyd Leech waltzed into your store.

You were the go-to witch in the entire realm, known far and wide for your incredibly potent spells and potions. When people said you were good, they meant it—your concoctions didn’t just work; they exceeded expectations. Need a luck charm to ace that impossible test? Done. Want a potion to make your ex weep every time they hear your name? Consider it finished.

Of course, this level of expertise came with a price—literally. You didn’t work for free, and you made sure your clients knew it. The other price? You were constantly sleep-deprived. Sleep? Never heard of her. But hey, that’s the life of a witch: overworked, overtired, and somehow still making better potions than anyone else in the business.

So when Floyd Leech first showed up at your door, you were only half-conscious and didn’t know that you were about to enter a whirlwind of chaos, idiocy, and—unexpectedly—romance.

It was a cloudy afternoon, and you were organizing your potions, mostly to avoid falling asleep standing up. The soothing sound of glass bottles clinking was the only thing keeping you from face-planting into the nearest pile of spellbooks. That’s when you heard it: a loud, careless banging on your door. Great, you thought. Another customer.

Opening the door revealed Floyd, towering over you with that wide, toothy grin that practically screamed trouble.

“Yo, witchy! Got a minute?” He leaned in close, invading your personal space like he was about to share some sort of grand secret.

You blinked slowly, still not fully awake. “Floyd Leech… what brings you here?”

“Need a love potion.” He said it so casually, like he was asking for a cup of coffee. “Think it’ll be hilarious!”

“Hilarious?” You frowned, crossing your arms. “Love potions aren’t exactly for pranks, you know. They can be… unpredictable.”

“That’s the point! Imagine someone gettin’ all mushy and clingy. It’ll be so funny.” He was already laughing at the thought, practically vibrating with energy.

You sighed, because of course, Floyd would think that messing with people’s emotions was peak comedy. But hey, a job’s a job. And you did like getting paid.

“Fine, but use it responsibly.” You handed him the potion, explaining the rules. “Only a few drops, and make sure they drink it. Not bathe in it, not pour it on them, just—"

“Yeah, yeah, got it!” he said, snatching the bottle before sauntering off like he hadn’t just asked you for the magical equivalent of playing with fire.

You didn’t expect to see him again so soon, but the next day, there he was. Except now he was soaking wet, as though he’d taken a dive in a river.

“I thought you’d follow instructions,” you said, eyeing the puddle forming under his feet.

“I did!” he pouted. “I poured the whole bottle on ‘em!”

You blinked. “You poured it on them? Floyd… I said they have to drink it.”

“Ohhh… well, that explains why they just got real mad and threw iced tea at me.” He shrugged, totally unconcerned.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was messing with you. Nope, that was just Floyd being Floyd.

“Well, at least you got iced tea,” you muttered, already pulling out ingredients to make another potion.

A week later, Floyd was back, this time bouncing into your shop with that familiar grin. You felt your eye twitch involuntarily.

“What do you need now?” you asked, mentally preparing yourself for another round of nonsense.

“Good luck charm,” he said, like it was the most normal request in the world. “I wanna win all my basketball games without even tryin’. Gotta show those scrubs how it’s done.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “I can make you a charm, but it’s not gonna turn you into some kind of invincible sports god. It’ll give you a little edge, nothing more.”

He grinned wider. “That’s all I need! Gimme your best shot.”

With a sigh, you whipped up a charm that should have been harmless. It wasn’t meant to make him superhuman—just enough to tip the scales in his favor during a game.

Three days later, Floyd came back looking like he’d been through a warzone. His hair was singed, his clothes were tattered, and he had the unmistakable stench of burnt rubber clinging to him.

“…What happened?”

“Eh, turns out bleachers don’t hold up so good when you dunk the ball too hard.” He smirked, clearly proud of himself. “Collapsed the whole thing. Coach was so mad! It was hilarious.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Floyd, I gave you a good luck charm, not a demolition spell.”

He shrugged. “Details, details.”

You couldn’t decide if you were exasperated or impressed. Maybe a little of both.

After the good luck charm incident, you figured Floyd would take a break from terrorizing you with his wild requests. Nope. A week later, he was back again.

“Need a sleep potion.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For you?”

“Nah, for someone else. They’re too high-strung. Figured I’d help ‘em out.”

You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t want to know who he was planning to knock out with a sleep potion. You just brewed it up, handed it over, and gave him a warning: “One drop. That’s all it takes. If you use too much, they’ll be out for days.”

“Got it, got it,” he waved you off, already halfway out the door.

Fast forward to three days later, and Floyd showed up at your shop with a giant bruise on his face.

“Let me guess,” you said, not even looking up from the book you were reading. “The sleep potion backfired.”

“Yup,” he grumbled. “Guess people don’t like gettin’ surprise naps.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You’re lucky you didn’t put them into a coma.”

“Nah, they woke up… eventually.”

You rolled your eyes. This was becoming a pattern, and you were starting to question your life choices.

Round 4: The Strength Spell Chaos

It was late one night when Floyd barged in again, this time asking for a strength spell. You were too tired to argue, so you whipped up something simple, thinking what could go wrong with a bit of extra strength? Famous last words.

Two days later, Floyd came back, and you could hear him laughing from down the street. He walked in, looking like he’d just won the lottery.

“What happened this time?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

“Broke the hoop clean off the backboard!” He mimed the motion, still laughing. “It was awesome! Then the hoop flew into the crowd. Chaos everywhere! Best day ever.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You… you’re not supposed to destroy the equipment, Floyd!”

“Eh, details.”

You sighed. Again. A lot.

After all the mayhem, you thought Floyd had finally gotten bored of messing with potions. You were wrong. He came back one last time, leaning casually against the doorframe with that familiar grin.

“Witchy, I need another love potion.”

You groaned internally. “Floyd, we’ve been over this. You don’t—”

“Just trust me,” he interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “This one’s important.”

At this point, you were too exhausted to argue. You mixed up a stronger potion this time, hoping that whatever chaos he was planning would at least stay contained to… well, wherever he was taking it.

But then, as you handed it to him, Floyd did something that made your brain stop and reboot.

He took the potion, popped the cork, and—while staring straight into your eyes—poured it into your tea.

You blinked. “Floyd.”

“Yeah?”

“…What did you just do?”

He smirked. “Wanted to make sure it worked on you.”

Your brain went blank. “Wha—”

He leaned in, resting his elbows on the counter, face close to yours. “Y’know, witchy, I thought hangin’ out with you was just a fun way to kill time. But after a while, I realized I like ya. So let’s skip the whole love potion thing. It’s more fun without magic, right?”

Your jaw dropped. “Floyd, you… you could’ve just asked me out!”

He shrugged, completely nonchalant. “This was more fun.”

You stared at him, half-exasperated, half-dumbfounded. “You’re insane.”

“Yup,” he said, grinning like a shark. “But you like me anyway, don’tcha?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue. Maybe he was right. Maybe, in some bizarre, unprecedented way, you did like him.

“Well,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair, “I guess you’re brewing the next round of tea, then.”

Floyd just laughed, and for once, you couldn’t help but smile back.

Masterlist

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: König is a little bit jealous about Soap's cookies.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, knotting, oral (male and female receiving) rough sex.

Word count: 3k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.

A/n: Come get it hot ya'll. I know many have been waiting for this. and I wanted to add a little hit for maybe another series. Maybe.....you guys might want......something like this.....but with.....the ghost man? Idk maybe thats coming who knows.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Four:

The rain pattered down your bedroom window. The noise lulls you into a lazy half-sleep state. You snuggled into your nest feeling content. König had gone to get groceries and insisted you stay home, out of the rain. You heard him come through the front door clumsily. You begrudgingly left your nest and went to the kitchen. There, König was his shoes were wet tracking water into the kitchen. His wet jacket was abandoned on the floor near the front door. He glanced at you, he had his surgical mask on as well as a beanie. He was muttering to himself clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Kö, how about you go get changed I'll put away the food.” You knew he was overstimulated from the shopping trip and getting caught in the rain.

He didn't say anything as he rushed off to his room. You put the groceries away and mopped up the water that was on the floor. König came back looking slightly better in dry clothes. He stood near the kitchen his gaze toward the floor. You took his hand and guided him to the couch. He went nonverbal like this a few times during your stay with him. You knew he needed some time to relax before his words returned. You wrapped a throw blanket around him and put on a nature documentary. Nature shows were what he watched most, except when you wanted to watch cartoons or reality tv. After a few minutes, König looked more relaxed. He spoke.

“Schatz, two of my coworkers are in the city today. Would you like to meet them? They want to take me to a bar somewhere.”

“Oh, I'd love to meet them Kö. Will they be here soon?”

“They'll be here in about an hour after I give them the ok.”

“What are their names?” You asked.

“Ghost and Soap, one of which you kind of already know.”

You gasped excitedly. “I finally get to meet Soap! I promised to make some cookies for him.” You started gathering the ingredients.

König watched you from the couch. “You promised him cookies?”

“Yeah, as a thank you for helping me with your surprise.”

König growled lowly causing you to stop in your tracks. You looked up at him with a concerned look on your face. Your inner Omega was getting upset, what had you done that upset him?

“Alpha? What's wrong?” You asked.

König looked down. “...You're making cookies for him, and not me?”

The concern on your face was replaced by amusement. “König, of course, you can have some.” You chuckled.

König got up and walked to the kitchen. “It's not funny Schatz, I don't want you baking for another Alpha.” He growled.

You continued searching for the cookie ingredients not feeling phased but the intimidation your Alpha was trying to display.

“Alpha, I cook and bake so much for you. You can stand to let me make some cookies for your friend.”

König was slightly embarrassed at his own jealousy. He growled again but left you be, going back to watch his documentary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cookie dough was resting in the fridge as you sat with your Alpha. He was still a bit sour toward you about the cookies.

“Kö, I will make you your own special batch of cookies ok?”

“Hmph.” He replies, making you pout.

“I'll get you back.” He says.

You give him a puzzled look. Before you can ask what he means, the doorbell rings. He gets up and heads downstairs to retrieve his coworkers. He returned with two men in tow. One was tall, still shorter than König but he still towered over you. He was wearing a balaclava with a skull on it along with oversized black clothing. The other man had a bright smile on his face. He had a short mohawk and an army green jacket with jeans. You got up and introduced yourself while shaking their hands.

“Nice to finally meet you, I'm Soap.” The one with the mohawk said as you shook his hand.

“Ghost.” The taller one responded shortly. You gave him a warm smile and he nodded in acknowledgment.

The men sat on the couch talking amongst themselves. You decided to bake off some cookies for soap while he was still here. You could feel König's gaze on the back of your head as you baked. They put on a Rugby game to watch. You didn't know the first thing about Rugby so, you gave them space. As the cookies baked you sat at the dining room table and wrote for a little while. Whenever you glanced at König, he seemed content but something was off about him. The cookies didn't take very long to bake, when they were done you let them cool and placed them in a Tupperware container for Soap. After about an hour, they were getting ready to leave to go to the bar. You handed the cookies to Soap and bid them farewell. Soap gave you a warm hug and followed Ghost out of the apartment. König gave you a look, but hugged you tightly.

“I'll be back late tonight.” He kissed your cheek and left.

You went back to the table and continued to write. Time got away from you and before you knew it, it was midnight. Your eyes burned slightly from watching the bright computer screen for so long. You got up and stretched walking to the kitchen to grab yourself a snack. You got some cheese and crackers and sat on the couch watching a random robot chicken episode. Your body relaxed into the couch feeling heavier with each passing second. You fell asleep with a cracker still on your chest listening to the tv drone on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König got home around 1:30 am. He was still annoyed at how his Omega had dismissed him about the cookies earlier. He knew that you were just a sweet and loving girl that wanted to show appreciation for Soap. He would let that slide, But his Alpha needed her to know who she belonged to. He walked in and noticed you asleep on the couch, cracker crumbs all over you. König smiled at the sight his inner Alpha preened. He set his things down and walked over to the sleeping Omega kneeling before her. He picked her up gently. You stirred awake at the movement, sleepy eyes meeting his.

“Hi, Kö.” You said quietly.

He said nothing. You thought he was going to take you into your room but he passed it and opened the door to his. His scent was so potent, you stirred more aware of where he was taking you. He placed you on his bed and turned around to rummage through his closet. You sat up confused and groggy.

“Am I your Alpha?” He asked lowly.

“What?” You said confused.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “Am I your Alpha?” He repeated.

“Yes, you are my Alpha.”

“Hmm, yet you give affection to others.” He said while taking his shirt off. His muscled rippled beneath his scarred skin.

“Kö, I just wanted to show my gratitude.” You rubbed your eye trying to wipe away the sleep.

“I know sweet girl.” He turned and walked over to you, towering over the bed.

He leaned down pinning your chin between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look up at him. “I think it's time you learn who you belong to Schatz.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Alpha?”

He kissed you deeply forcing his tongue into your mouth. You leaned back slightly surprised, he used that opportunity to lay you on your back. His knee parted your legs and you gasped softly. His hand gripped the back of your neck firmly keeping you in place as he kissed you, the other hand roamed your torso feverishly. You gripped his shoulders to steady yourself as the massive man dominated your mouth. His hand made its way under your shirt fondling your bare breasts. His rough fingertips grazed over your nipples drawing small moans and whimpers from you.

König detached himself from your mouth and started to nibble and kiss your scent glands. Your toes curled as your Omega mewled and purred. You opened your legs wider so his hips slot in between them perfectly. He released a deep growl, pleased at your compliance. He lifted your shirt up and over your head throwing it somewhere unseen. König kissed down your body giving your neck and a few licks before continuing the journey down. König slid your shorts and panties off in a swift movement.

He folded your legs up keeping his hands under your knees giving him full access to you. Your folds were dripping with slickness, ready to receive attention from your Alpha. He gave a long flat lick over your clit making you shiver. His tongue moved expertly around it quickly learning what makes you writhe. The gentle sucks and teasing licks were driving you over the edge. You moaned louder and louder gripping his hair. Every time you'd get close he'd slow down and tease your clit once again.

“Alpha...please.” You cried.

König looked at you through his eyelashes, a predatory glint in his eye. Your legs shook with every movement his tongue made. You whimpered loudly begging him to let you cum.

“Please Alpha. Please please please let me cum.” Your breathing is increasingly labored.

König hummed pleased with your begging and went back to ravishing your clit. You came quickly and hard your thighs squeezing the sides of his head. You felt your slit coat his mouth and drip onto the bed. He released your legs, they dangled over the side of the bed lazily. König stood up licking his lips of your juices. He unbuckled his pants and pulled them down. His cock sprung out with force slapping his stomach. In your orgasm, dazed state all you could do was stare at the large appendage. König pulled down to the edge of the bed making you sit up. He caressed your face with his thumb.

“You like what you see Schatz?” He asked teasingly.

He guided you off the bed to a kneeling position, he grabbed the hair around the crown of your head tightly. You nodded looking up at your giant Alpha. With his other hand, he rubbed his wet tip against your lips gently asking for you to open up. You parted your lips and König wasted no time filling your mouth. He sighed deeply using your hair to guide your head in long strokes. You pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick sucking gently.

“Just like that Omega.” He groaned.

König thrusted gently into your mouth trying his best not to choke you. He felt the back of your throat rub his tip with every thrust making him moan. He moved your head faster ripples of pleasure ran up his spine every time your lips puckered sliding over his shaft. He felt himself get closer and closer the hand in your hair gripped tighter. His grunts turned into short growls. Right before he came he pulled you off of his cock, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his tip.

König bent down and picked you up under your thighs, placing your butt on the edge of the bed. He used his arm to hold your legs together, you rested them on his left shoulder. He leaned down pressing his tip in between your folds. He used one hand to hold both of your ankles and the other hand guided his cock into your heat. The tip pushed in with ease your wetness making him growl lowly. You whimpered as he stretched you out trying your best to relax. He pushed in slowly thrusting occasionally to help you get used to his girth. Every inch he pushed into you he restrained himself with a hiss.

König looked down at your face, scrunched up in pleasure. He pressed his hand onto your stomach keeping you in place as he rocked into you. When he finally bottomed out you were a quivering moaning mess. You had never had sex with an Alpha. He was going to ruin you for anyone else. König started thrusting at a painfully slow pace, making sure you were adjusting and not in any serious pain. He leaned down pressing your thighs into your torso creating an angle that had you seeing stars. His thrust gradually got faster. König clenched his jaw tightly, your wetness pulled growls from his throat.

“You're being such a good Omega, you take me so nicely.” He said breathlessly.

You clenched around his cock tightly at his praise. Your tits bounced as his thrusts increasingly got harder and rougher. He used his thumb to rub gentle circles around your sensitive clit as he thrusts. You moaned and gasped as he pulled you closer to your second orgasm. His thrusts became animalistic in nature, almost making you scream at the force.

“You're mine...Say it.” König growled out.

“I-I'm yours Alpha.” You managed to stutter out weakly.

“Louder.” He pounded into you harder.

“I'm yours!” You screamed.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body shook and spasmed on his cock. You felt his knot grow, catching the edge of your hole. The sensitivity making you twitch. König came with a loud guttural moan, locking his knot inside you.

König gently opened your legs so you can straddle him. He picked you up bringing your face close to his. Your eyes were glazed over and your breathing still hadn't slowed. He kissed you gently before nuzzling his nose into your scent glands. He laid you down on the bed rotating you so your back is to his chest. He tried his best not to move his knot but the position change still made you whimper. He pulled his blanket over your body and held you close keeping his nose buried in your neck. You purred softly as he gave you gentle kisses. You fell asleep quickly and the Alpha followed suit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bed shifted stirring you awake. Everything around you smelt like König, including yourself. The dull ache in between your thighs was enough to remind you of last night's events. König snuggled into your hair inhaling deeply. He was incredibly infatuated with this Omega. You caressed his broad arms that were wrapped around you.

“Morning Kö.”

“Good Morning, Schatz. How are you feeling?”

“A little sore but I'm ok.”

“Was I too rough with you? I'm sorry.” He apologized quickly.

“No König, you were fine. Better than fine. You were amazing.” You said with a giggle.

König smiled and got up, stretching his back. He walked to his closet to get some clean clothes. You couldn't help but stare at his perfectly square butt and small waist.

“I'll make you breakfast, Ja?”

“Mm, I'd like that.”

He got dressed and went to the kitchen. You snuggled in his sheets smiling to yourself. Your Alpha has knotted you. You wondered if he'd take the next step with you. Your inner Omega ached at the thought of König marking you. You knew he wouldn't without an explicit and long talk about it. He wanted to make sure you had no doubts about being marked by him. König came back after a few minutes with an omelet for you. You sat and took the plate happily. König watched you with adoration as you ate. You were such a good little Omega, so perfect for him. His inner Alpha was at his loudest today than he had ever been.

After you ate you got up and went to your room to get dressed. Your legs still trembled and ached but you ignored it. You changed into comfy clothes and grabbed a blanket from your nest to snuggle with on the couch. You put on your favorite cartoon and bundled up. König joined you after a little while, having made breakfast for himself. He ate quickly and turned to look at you.

“Schatz, I have something to speak with you about.” He said.

You got nervous at his tone but smiled anyways. “What is it?”

“After Christmas, I have to go back to work.”

“...Yeah well, I know.” You said sounding a little disappointed.

“That means that sometimes, I will be gone for weeks at a time. Sometimes even months.”

You nodded looking down. He continued.

“My job...It's dangerous. I come home hurt sometimes. One day, I may not come home at all.”

“Kö, don't say that please.”

“It is the truth, Schatz. If you are to be mine, I need you to understand these things.”

“But, I don't want to think that every time you leave you might die. That makes it so much harder.” The thought made you tear up.

König scooted closer to you and pressed your head into his chest, holding you in a tight embrace.

“No, you don't have to think that, I've survived this long. But now I have someone to live for. I will come home to you, always.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, Schatz.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus: Ghost and Soap.

The bar was loud and lively. König had left a few minutes ago to be with his Omega, leaving Ghost and Soap to their own devices.

“So, what do you think about her?” Soap asked referring to Konigs Omega.

“She's sweet, it'll do him good to have someone soft in his life.” Ghost responded.

“Yeah, I was thinking about it myself.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow. “What? Doing that match-making bullshit?”

“It worked for that big brute, why couldn't it work for me?” Soap chuckled.

Ghost didn't really have an answer. He'd be lying if he said he didn't think about signing up after hearing about König's success with the program. Romance wasn't really his thing. He had ignored his Alpha for so long that he barely feels him anymore. But seeing the Colonel and his Omega gave him hope. Maybe there was someone out there. Someone made for him, someone perfect for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken @midwesternwitchery @hiken-no-stark @rouge-swears @the-chaotic-cow @a-gay-cryptid @wybwtjmiadz @somanyminidragons @tizylish @smutslutsposts @y2katsuki @thychuvaluswife @gxdsmonsters @undeadgod @multy-fandom-lover @cloudyyjanee @bobafett-tea @mxkaylaj

I hope I got everyone!

[kairoot]

hiii i saw that ur requests r open (ps ur theme is so cool wtf), so maybe enjoyen hcs for hickey prank? or any tiktok kinda prank i think it would be so funny

ENHYPEN, the hickey.

genre: crack, fluff, kind of suggestive (?) not really

warnings: ! not smut ! (kinda obvious but i had to clarify.), hickies, kissing

requested: yes! by this lovely anon 🤍

pairing: enha x gn!reader

author’s note: thank you so much for that, it really means a lot! 😭🤍 and thank u so so much for requesting!

ss ➜ pulling the hickey prank on enha + their reactions

heeseung — ;

did not think it was funny

like at all.

literally gives you the most stalest expression ever 😭

i feel like he’d sulk for at least an hour after that 💀

no cause why’d you scare him like that..

you stood at the stove in the kitchen, making dinner as heeseung got himself a glass of water. he started talking to you about his friends and the game until he glanced at you, just checking if you were listening since your responses were short.

“yeah, and jake—“ he did a double take, as he was sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

placed on your neck was a dark red mark, some purple surrounding it.

“go ahead, hee. i’m listening.” your eyes were still on the pot and your ingredients, so you weren’t really sure why he stopped talking (you knew why he had stopped talking 💀).

“what is that?” his tone changed, more serious now rather than the care-free tone he had before.

“what’s what, baby?” you looked up at him for the first time, seeing his eyes focused on the mark.

he placed a hand around your waist, pulling you in to him so he could analyze the mark more, “this.”

“i didn’t put that there.” he looked back up at you, eyebrows knitted together in confusion and irritation. you bit back a laugh as you avoided his gaze.

“i don’t know, hee, you do a lot of things. you probably put it there late last night.” you shrug, continuing to add ingredients to your dish.

“what is that supposed to mean- no, i didn’t put that there. definitely not last night.” he was actually getting kind of angry now. who were you with besides him?

“it didn’t just appear there itself, did it?” you question nonchalantly.

“i don’t know, you tell me, y/n.” he said, releasing his hold on you and beginning to walk away. your laugh finally escaped as you turned to grab his hand.

“hee, baby, it’s a joke. look.” you giggle, taking his hand and running it across the fake mark. red and purple eyeshadow stained his thumb as he just stared at you.

“..that’s not funny, y/n. like, at all.” he said dryly, his expression making you hold your stomach as more cackles came out.

jay — ;

jays’ actually hurt by this

but is soooo embarrassed when he finds out it’s a joke 💀

im ngl he’ll probably sulk like hee

but will actually laugh with you

is just glad it was a joke

you had your camera recording everything as your phone sat in your lap.

you and jay were taking a trip to the movies and he decided to drive which was the perfect time to pull this prank.

the car ride was a bit quiet at first, the rain in the back and the low distant sound of music coming from the radio. you and jay conversed here and there but it was mostly comfortable silence.

so when you arrived at the theater, jay reached over to help you take off your seatbelt. it was just something he liked to do; putting your seatbelt on and taking it off for you.

when he reached over, he caught a glimpse of something on your neck. he had to blink extra hard to make sure he was seeing correctly.

“wait,” he halted his actions, placing a hand gently on your collarbone. “did i do this?”

you didn’t respond, pretending to not know what he was talking about. until he spoke again.

“i didn’t do this. why is that there, babe?” he asked, a waver in his voice.

“jay, what are you talking about?” you shifted away from his touch, looking in the other direction. he looked at you in confusion. did you not want him touching you now?

“y/n, look at me.” he attempted to look at the mark again, but instead you moved away from him once more. so he sat back in his seat, thinking about what just happened.

“did you see someone else?” jay held his breath, waiting for your answer. there was a long silence before you responded.

“what?”

he gave you a look that said, ‘you know exactly what i said 🙁’. but instead of answering back, he started the car again, starting to back out of the theater parking lot.

“jay, wait!” your hand lands on his when it comes down to shift the gearstick in reverse. you bring the camera up so it’s in his vision.

he stares at the camera and back at you, “what?”

you hold back your laugh, rubbing the makeup off your neck. you show him the stains on your fingers as he realizes what the camera was for.

he breaks into a smile, covering his face in embarrassment.

“are you serious, y/n..”

jake — ;

jake is like on the verge of tears 😭

NAH LIKE BRO IS SO SCARED

cause he doesn’t wanna lose you neither does he want to be cheated on

even after he finds out it’s a prank, he’s whining and pouting

you better give him some love after that cruel prank

you and jake were laying in bed, cuddled with each other. his head was in the crook of your neck, giving you little kisses.

he didn’t know that you were recording the whole thing so you tried your best not to laugh. you pretended to watch the movie on the screen that was long forgotten, but in reality, you were just watching his reaction through the camera.

he continued to place kisses on your neck, giggling while doing so, until he saw the hickey.

“wait, babe,” he lifted his head, examining the bruise. you hummed in response, lowering the camera so he wouldn’t see.

“i was only kissing you.. why is there a hickey?” jake‘a brows furrowed in confusion, glancing up at you.

“i don’t know, jake. you were down there for a long time, maybe you put it there without realizing.”

now he sat up all the way, looking down at you.

“babe, i think i would know if my lips latched onto your skin or not.” he said, his voice turning whiney. he folded his arms, a pout on his lips.

“please don’t tell me you let someone else kiss you.”

you put on a faux offensive tone, “jake?! i would never!”

he glared at you, still pouting so the glare wasn’t intimidating at all.

“y/n, that was so fake.” he began to climb off the bed. “i’m going to jay’s.”

you quickly sat up, tugging on his hoodie, “babe, it’s not real.”

he turned around only to see the camera facing him. he took his finger and rubbed it across the “hickey”, smudging it.

he threw his head back, whining before flopping back on the bed, “y/n, don’t do that! you almost gave me a heart attack.”

is actually upset, please cuddle him so hard 😭

sunghoon — ;

already knows it’s a prank

not because he heard you planning it or anything but he just knows

nothing gets passed him atp

is still annoyed that you would even think to pull something like that tho 💀

you and sunghoon were getting ready to go on a date, so obviously you were in the mirror the whole time, trying to make sure your appearance was okay.

before sunghoon got home, you had already painted the fake hickey on your neck so maybe he could see before or after you arrive at the restaurant.

you made sure your outfit was low around the neck area so he could see perfectly.

standing in the mirror, you adjust your clothes to your liking and fixed your hair so it wasn’t all over the place.

sunghoon stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking at you.

“you ready?” he asked, fixing the buttons on his shirt.

“now i am.” you looked at yourself one more time, before gathering your things into a bag.

hoon walked up behind where you stood in the mirror, looking at your neck. you caught a glimpse of him as he studied the mark, smiling to yourself.

until he smudged the mark with one of his fingers and walked away.

“i’m way too good for you to want hickies from someone else.” he snorted.

you literally just stood there like🧍🏽‍♀️

sunoo — ;

is actually disgusted

like ew, you were kissing somebody else ?!!!

when he finds out it’s a prank, expect him to be sassy (sassy men in 2023 man 😞)

ignrores you on purpose afterwards

how dare you play with his heart like that ?!

sunoo had came in from the grocery store, placing the bags on the floor. once he saw you come downstairs from hearing the door, he smiled.

“hi, baby.” he pulled you in for a tight hug as if he hadn’t seen you in ages. you hugged back, kissing his cheek.

“so, how was your d-“ you began as he gently pushed you away for a second.

“y/n, what the hell?” his face contorted in disgust and annoyance.

“what?” your eyebrows come together as your eyes try to follow what he’s looking at. “what is it, babe?”

“uh, you can’t call me ‘babe’ after i just saw that.” he started walking to the living room, your steps not too far behind his. “i know for a fact, i didn’t put that there.”

“nunu, what are you talking about?” you laugh a bit, taking a seat next to him on the couch. he scoots away from you, folding his arms.

he doesn’t respond but opens his phone instead.

“sunoo?” no response.

he scoffs, starting to get out of his seat on the couch.

“stop, wait,” you hold your stomach, laughing.

“seriously, y/n, you’re so gross. what about this is funny?” he points to the mark on your chest.

“i’m sorry, i just-“ you snort, rolling off the couch.

he’s literally just standing there, giving you the biggest side eye.

“okay, i’m sorry. um, it’s a joke-“ you could hardly get your words out, tears prickling your eyes at this point. you rubbed the mark away, showing him the now blank spot where the mark once was.

he’s still just standing there, looking at you up and down.

“you’re still gross.”

jungwon — ;

he’s hurt but is actually really calm about it

would probably want you to leave

when he finds out it’s a prank he’s like🧍🏽‍♀️that’s what i thought

will smother you with love afterwards cause you’re his and only his

you were standing in the kitchen, making yourself and jungwon some lunch before he came and joined you.

he wrapped his arms around you, gifting you with a warm back hug. he snuggled his face in the crook of your neck, placing a couple of tiny kisses there.

“hi.” he said in a groggy voice, indicating that his nap had ended. you greeted him back, smiling at his cuteness.

there was a silence before you felt him step away from your back, hands coming up to your waist to spin you around.

he slightly moved your shirt so he could see what the darkness on your neck was.

“y/n..” his voice trailed off, all the grogginess now gone.

you attempted to turn back around, his grip preventing you from doing so.

“it’s just a mosquito bite, wonie-“ you started to say, trying to move his hand away from your shirt.

“no, that’s a hickey, babe. i can see it.” he frowned, hands leaving your shirt and waist.

he stood there for a moment, looking down before speaking again. “i think you should leave.”

“jungwon-“ your hand came to touch his wrist before he moved it out of your grasp.

“seriously, y/n.”

“jungwon, it’s a joke, baby. i’m not leaving you.” you grabbed a towel, scrubbing the makeup off of the side of your neck.

he blinked, pressing his lips together. he stood there for a minute, processing the prank, letting his heart rate go down a little bit.

“that wasn’t funny.” he smiled, holding his chest. “now come here so i can give you some real ones.”

ni-ki — ;

his actual response is “bruh wtf is that🧍🏽‍♀️”

NO LIKE HE ACTUALLY SAYS THAT

gives you the biggest side eye when you tell him it’s a prank

expect him to get you back with another prank

since you have your own car, you decided to pick niki up instead of the other way around. your phone was set on the dashboard, so it looked like you were just filming a little vlog (+ he already knew you liked to film some of your daily life so he didn’t think much of it).

when you arrived outside his dorm, he hopped in the passenger seat, giving you a quick peck. he gave the camera a wave before turning back to you.

“why tf do you have a scarf on right now?” he snorted, hands coming up to remove it.

when you blocked his hand, he stared at you in confusion.

“y/n, it’s literally like 88 degrees outside..”

“okay? i’m cold. plus, it goes with my outfit.” you shrugged, starting the car up again.

“no.. tf it doesn’t-“ he took the scarf away from you, doing a triple take when he saw your neck.

he placed a hand on your chin, turning your head so he could see better.

“y/n, what is that, omg-“ he turned your head more, getting a good look at the mark.

you swat his hand away, turning back forward and putting your scarf across your neck.

“nothing, it’s a rash.”

“i don’t even give you hickies so how did that get there?” he ignored your attempt at lying to him.

“niki, it’s not a hickey. it’s a-“ he took the scarf back in his grasp, trying to tug it away from you.

“babe, calm down, it’s a joke.” you giggled, letting him grab the scarf. you smudge the mark, the makeup now on your fingers.

he stared at you from his side of the car, “so it’s funny?” his reaction only made you snort more.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Sweet Dreams

Summary: For you it was just a very intense wet dream, clearly never thinking a candle you bought at an occult store would give you the best orgasm you had ever experienced. For Dave York, cursed to fuck whoever lit said candle, you were a willing virgin waiting for him to take you.

Pairing: Ghost!Dave York x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Rating: E

Warnings: non con/ dub con (I don't know how to tag this, reader thinks it's a dream, but it's really ghost Dave fucking her), smut (oral sex m+f receiving, unprotected sex), ghost cumplay, dream sex but not really, dirty talk, losing virginity, spooky stuff, candles (do not light candles and then go to bed!)

Shout out @clawdee for the idea with the cursed candle. Otherwise this whole thing would be even weirder lol

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Main Masterlist // Dave York Masterlist

Dave York had been watching you the moment your fingertips touched the candle at the little occult store you had been in. 

He still had no idea who the fuck whoever cursed him knew who his next, let’s call them unknowingly willing partner, was, nor did he know how this all started. 

One moment he was on top of a tower trying to kill that Fucker Hall, the next moment he found himself in a dark bedroom, his nose filling with the scent of sandalwood and cherry with a fucking hard on from hell with nothing on his mind but sinking into whatever hole was made available to him. 

Hell.

Yeah maybe that was who cursed him. 

Cursed him that the moment one of that cursed fucking scented candles were about to be lit, his body would become a vessel for all the dirty things those mostly not so innocent minds dreamed up, and he was only able to stop once he fucked his cum so deep inside of them, he became a part of them.

And it was always on fucking Halloween. Maybe it had to do with ghosts being able to walk the earth or some shit like that. 

It’s not like he got a training at being a fucking ghost. (You get it? A fucking ghost… anyways)

He remembered the first time he had come back, he remembered the blonde woman he had fucked and he remembered not being able to stop. Like he would died (pun intended) if he did not fuck her in positions he hadn’t even tried out before until he passed out. 

It’s like everything he did was controlled by someone or something. He just thought it easier to imagine it was the person who lit the candle who was controlling their little fuck session. 

The longer he stayed dead, the better he got at influencing their wet dreams. 

He had fucked them all.

Young women, old women, young men, old men, very old men, trans men and women.

Married women with their husbands sleeping next to them while he fucked their wife in ways they would only dream of. 

And they were none of the wiser. 

When they woke up after he fucked them for hours, after he blew out the candle (which the dad side of him saw as a fucking fire hazard, I mean who lights a candle and then goes to bed?) and went back to wherever he was until someone else lit one of those candles again, they only thought they had a super intense wet dream. 

He long gave up on trying to figure out why his dick seemed get hard the moment a fucking candle got lit. Or how it worked. Or who chose who would got one of those candles. By now he was just enjoying the ride. (Or to get ridden, preferably reverse ;-)

I mean, who in their right mind would think a cursed ghost would appear after they bought and lit a sex dream candle at an occult store and fucked them all night?

But you…. He could tell you were special. 

You were wearing a long black dress, a pointy black hat, a witch costume he realised,  laughing about something the two girls who were with you were saying, reading out the instructions written on the glass of the candle out loudly. 

„For hundreds of years the ingredients of this candle have been the same, sandalwood, cherry and some magical extra ingredients that will turn your deepest fantasies into a night full of pleasure,“ she read out loud. 

You looked shy, arguing about spending money on a shitty candle just because there’s some silly line written on it. 

„Do it for the orgasms,“ your one friend grinned and Dave could see how you were fighting with yourself. 

„Imagine you experience such a good wet dream, you think you lost your virginity,“ your other friend whispered, making you slap her arm with a scandalised gasp before all of you giggled.

A virgin.

It had been some time since Dave got to fuck one of those. 

Since he didn’t know how long he actually had been doing whatever the fuck he was doing, he only had a vague memory, but he thought it was at least some years ago. 

His encounters all blurred together after a while. 

He still watched you as you reread the writings on the candle before you brought it to your nose to inhale the scent. 

„Fine. I am buying the sex dream candle,“ you sighed with a chuckle and he watched you go up to the counter any pay, his cock twitching. 

He stayed back as you left the store, still none of the wiser about what was gonna happen once you chose to light the candle and go to sleep. He only stayed long enough to watch you walk down the street before he disappeared again, waiting for your call. 

Which came eventually.

Dave was standing at the feet of your bed, watching you sleep, the candle lit on a dresser not too far away. 

He was pleased to find you alone in bed, having thought of all the ways he wanted to have you ever since he had seen you in the store. 

While partners sleeping next to his intended partner weren’t a problem, the candle seemingly taking care of doing whatever it was that it was doing also knocking them out, he preferred to be alone in the bed while he fucked his partner. 

Letting his fingertips brush over your soft bedsheets, he closed his eyes, his clothes gone when his eyes opened again, his cock hard and already leaking.

He wanted nothing more than to pull your bedsheets away and sink into your virgin pussy, but decided that he wanted to take his time with you. 

Ever so slowly he got onto your bed, crawling until he was hovering over your face, his head tilting to the side as he watched you. 

He wondered if you would scream if you’d wake up right now. If you would slap him, scratch him, trying to get him off of you. 

And deep down Dave knew that you would. 

If you would wake up as normal you right now, he would be fucked. 

But he knew the only part of your brain that would wake up during the next hours was the part that was absolutely feral and horny and ready to get fucked. 

He smirked, leaning down, his nose brushing over your cheek as he inhaled your scent deeply, chuckling to himself when he felt you shiver. 

He sat himself up, kneeling above you, your legs between his, pulling at your sheets until the only fabric separating his skin and yours was the buttoned shirt you had on to sleep. 

Some buttons had come open, revealing some of your tits to his eyes and he licked his lips before he opened the last few buttons, slipping the fabric open. 

„Fucking perfect virgin tits,“ he grinned to himself, his fingers brushing over your already hard nipples. He let his eyes wander, positively delighted to find out you weren’t wearing any panties.

„Dirty girl,“ he hummed before he leaned down to put one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it. 

He let one of his hands slip between your legs, finding you already wet and dripping. His eyes caught what looked like your vibrator laying abandoned on the bed not to far away from you and he grinned to himself. 

You were fucking touching yourself before he got here. 

Playing with your pussy while he sucked on your tits he noticed your body reacting to him, one of your hands slipping through his hair with a soft sigh. When he looked up at you, your eyes were still closed but you were smiling. 

„Gonna have a taste of this pretty pussy now,“ he said to no one in particular as he slipped down your body. He parted your legs for him, wrapping his arms around your thighs. His cock was fucking throbbing as he licked into you. Moaning at the faint taste of you, this afterlife not letting him have your full taste but just enough to drive him insane. 

He played with you, feeling you trying to roll your hips against his mouth, a little sigh escaping your lips. He grinned as he played with your clit, one finger slipping inside of you. 

„Wonder why nobody fucked this pussy yet. Is it you or is it them?“ He asked out loud, slipping another finger inside of you as he just looked up at you, your lips parted, your brows furrowed. You were clenching around his fingers and he was about to cum just thinking about fucking you. To be the first cock inside of you. 

And you wouldn’t even know it happened. 

He angled his fingers inside of you until you jerked against him and he grinned when he felt that spongy spot inside of you. 

„You gonna cum for me,“ he hummed before he sucked your clit between his lips, swirling is tongue around it, and he felt the moment you fell apart, your back arching from the mattress, your lips parting in a low moan, your pussy squeezing his fingers like a vice. 

„Fucking beautiful,“ he grunted.

He continued to move his fingers inside of you, prolonging your orgasm until he slipped them out, licking them clean. He sat himself up on his knees, his hand wrapping around his cock, pumping it slowly as he watched you. 

He got some sick sense of satisfaction out of watching you just lay there, unconscious but willing to be fucked like a dirty whore. And he knew you were willing because he was only doing what you wanted. 

Because you were dreaming it.

You were dreaming of getting fucked. He was just a vessel for your little dirty mind. 

He hummed, bending down to kiss up your body, his lips closing around one of your nipples, playing with it. He lined himself up, slipping the head of his cock through your wet folds. 

Letting go of your nipple with a plop he rested his weight on one arm next to your head, his face hovering over yours, watching you as he slowly pushed his cock into you. 

He watched every expression of your face as he filled you, deeper and deeper, your pussy so wet he felt no resistance at all. When you gasped as he pushed through your barrier he grinned, his cock now fully inside of you. 

The first cock you ever had. 

The one you wouldn’t even remember. 

„Not a virgin anymore you little slut,“ he grunted before he began to move. Fucking his cock into you wet pussy over and over again. He was surprised when you tilted your face up to kiss him, your eyes still closed. He hummed against your lips, his tongue parting your lips, kissing you deeply all while pumping into you faster and you moaned against his mouth. 

Grinning he parted from your lips, pulling his cock out of you. 

With little effort he turned you on your stomach, pulling your ass up so you were on your knees, before he was inside you again. His fingers digging into your hips as he fucked himself into you in hard quick thrusts. 

You were so fucking wet you were dripping down his balls. 

It wasn’t long before you began to meet his thrusts, now moaning shamelessly into your pillow while still deeply asleep. 

He slapped your ass, before he leaned down to wrap his arm around you, pulling you up against his chest. With his hand gripping one of your tits as he kept you flush against his chest he pumped his cock inside of you. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin the only noise in the room, apart from your moans. 

„You gonna cum for me again,“ he whispered against your ear, feeling your shiver. Smirking his other hand wrapped around your neck, using only a tiny bit of pressure to choke you, your pussy clamping down on him immediately a loud moan escaping your lips as you came, Dave grunting behind of you as he fucked you through your orgasm before he groaned, biting into your shoulder as he came, fucking you full of his cum. 

You were both out of breath, panting as he held you up. As soon as he released his grip around you you fell back into your bed and Dave chuckled to himself. 

He was still hard.

And he wasn’t finished yet. 

He moved to lay down on his side, putting your body against him, his cock entering you from behind. 

„I wonder how many positions you wanna be fucked in before we’re finished,“ he hummed against your ear, his hand playing with your clit as he fucked into you. 

It was almost time for the sun to come up when he didn’t feel the need to fuck you anymore. 

You finally must be running out of ideas. Or you weren’t horny anymore.

No, not that. He could see your pussy still dripping from your shared releases. Of course you wouldn’t know it was his… ghost cum leaking out of you. 

In the beginning he questioned if he would be able to impregnate someone like this, but by now he just didn’t care anymore. 

He must say, this might have been his favourite encounter yet. He almost lost it when he was fucking your face, finding himself wishing you would open your eyes so he could see your eyes watering as he fucked your throat over and over again. 

Who could have known how deeply kinky and horny you little virgin whore were?

He took one last look at you, sweaty and positively wrecked, the mark he sucked into your neck on full display, a soft smile on your kiss swollen lips, before he walked over towards your dresser where the candle was still flickering. 

He blew it out, watching the smoke rise into the air, feeling his body get lighter.

When he turned around, already feeling his body slip into nothingness he was surprised to find your eyes opened and looking at him. 

You were awake. 

That had never happened before. He usually was gone before they woke up. 

But before he could process what was happening or hear you scream he was gone. 

Waiting for next Halloween when someone would light a seemingly innocent scented sex dream candle they bought at a witchy store, that would summon him to fuck them senseless.  

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3. Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6. Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9. Chapter 10. - Chapter 11

Word count: 1310

Chapter 11:

Jen grabbed the boy and brought him to her side, instructing him on how to swirl. You were not sure why, but you speculated she was too anxious to focus on it, and you did not blame her.

For a first trial, this was intense, and you did not wish to think of what would come next.

"Eeryone, pull a strand of hair outta your head now." Jen suddenly instructed, and you all obeyed, with Alice even taking a strand from Sharon's head. "A single hair only. Everybody, hurry up."

You all threw the single piece of hair into the swirling boiling water, except for Agatha. As she was ready to do that, she froze and stared at something that you could not see.

It was her time to face her nightmare.

You were not sure what it was, but the fear crawling on her face was not something that you liked. Her illusion was small, but it was enough to send her to the floor with a loud gasp, eyes wide staring at nothing as tears were fighting to escape.

You glanced at the clock, seeing the time being way less than before and you acted on impulse. You stood behind Agatha and after you muttered an apology, you pulled a piece of her hair.

"Ouch!" She exclaimed and looked at you with a hurt expression, but you figured it was mostly shock from your actions.

"Sorry" you said and tossed the hair into the water.

The other witches tried to ask Agatha what she saw, but she refused to answer, turning the focus back on the potion.

Yet you could not help but steal glances at her; seeing her how hard she was fighting to keep her composure in front of the others.

Whatever she has faced has shaken her to the core, and you knew only one thing could truly do that...

Her son

You never learnt what happened to him, and she always refused to tell you, going as far as to raise her tone when you tried to push the topic.

So, you let it go and simply waited, hoped, for the day she would open up to you. You had met that boy when he was very young, and while you never had the chance to bond with him properly, you were always wondering what happened to him.

For the day it all went downhill, that boy took with him the bigger part of Agatha's heart and light.

"We need to clasp hands..." Jen instructed, your focus on her again. "...and clear your minds. Once our intentions are aligned, it will glow bright cerulean."

Alice glanced around her. "Yeah. What're our intentions again?"

"To not die."

And so you did that, pouring all your intentions of surviving the first trial.

You dared to open one eye and once again was disappointed to find that your effort did not work with the first time.

Why? Because the colour of the potion should be blue, and this was clearly a shade of green.

"I must have forgot something." Jen exclaimed as panic started to rise within her.

Teen dared to glance at the clock. "One minute left."

You felt your heart beating faster and you looked at the worried potions witch. "What did you forget?" You asked, hands placed firmly against the marble surface.

Jen, feeling the weight of the situation, took a step back. "I don't know! I've never made this potion before! I make retinol serums, for Christ's sake!"

"Fifty seconds."

You glanced at the boy. "Shouting the time is not really helping here!" You snapped back, realizing that if Jen suddenly got cold feet; you were all dead.

Surpringly, it was Agatha who took the initiative. She grabbed the witch from her upper arms and stared dead into her dark eyes.

"I have always hated you... but I left you alone because what you were doing was important. Not this Kale Kare crap, the real work. You can be that witch again. They can take your power, Jen, but they can't take your knowledge."

Silence enveloped the room, everyone looking at Jen for the missing ingredient; feeling bout to pass out from the worry and the stress they were all experiencing.

"Blood. We need the blood of the unpoisoned."

It was Alice who gathered the courage and checked the clock. "Thirty seconds."

Agatha did not hesitate to grab a huge kitchen knife. With her free hand, she grabbed the boy's wrist and, with the other, cut a deep enough slash. "Thanks for being underage."

The move shocked everyone, but Agatha paid no mind as she guided the boy's hand over the boiling water, letting the droplets of blood fall in.

A sigh of relief left your lips when it turned blue and you wasted no time dunking your glasses into the water before hastily drinking the antidote; just as you were in the last ten seconds of the countdown.

However, the timer did not stop after you drank the antidote and it took you all a few precious seconds to be reminded that Sharon had not taken it since she laid unconscious on the couch.

By the last second, you managed to empty the cup into her lips, and by the faint movement of her limps; it was evident that she was also alive.

A clicking sound startled you all before it was noticed that the oven door had opened on its own.

You were the first to walk toward it, perhaps the bravest, and you were surprised to see some never-ending slide leading Gods knew where.

"I think this is our exit," you said as the others gathered around you.

"I am not climbing in an oven" Lilia argued. "That happened to a friend of mine, she had a lovely house, and she ended up..."

Her storytelling was cut short as the windows broke, and saltwater started to fill the house at a terrifying pace.

You stared at it with wide eyes as the dark blue waters were coming your way. You were a good swimmer and you always found something nice at the salty smell of a sea breeze but even this was out of your league.

Lilia moved first, now longer hesitating to enter the oven and slide down; followed by Jen.

You waited for Agatha to join y before she could, Teen and Alice reminded you that Sharon was still left behind.

"We don't know what happens if we leave her behind." Alice argued.

You knew she was right, and honestly, Sharon should not die like that; not when it was never her fault for ending up on the Road.

You turned to Agatha. "Go, I will go help them"

Surpringly, your lover did not agree as she once again grabbed your wrist. "No, you go down that oven"

Yet you stubbornly stared her in the eye, not moving an inch. "No, you are, or you are helping me with Mrs. Davis"

Agatha wanted to argue, to grab you by the back of your neck and shove you down that slide. She wished to scold you to for suddenly being both selfless and annoyingly stubborn.

In the end, she gave up.

"Fine!" She spat, and you both joined to help carry the unconscious human towards the oven.

By now, the floors had flooded, and the water was rising fast; making your fear it would block your way to the oven and your only exit if you were late.

Thankfully, you all managed to push her down the slide and followed suit. This time, it was Alice who stayed behind.

She watched you go after Agatha, and as she sat by the edge, she grabbed the oven door and closed it behind her before letting gravity and water pull her down the unknown slide.

Chapter 12

[uchinagai]

19 “it’s me before her” - Karina smau

(half written; word count: 783)

Younger was sick and tired of everything that was happening. The girl she was interested in and showed interest in her hasn’t spoken to her all of the 3 hours she’s been here. Aespa was shooting teasers for their comeback and y/n said to her that she would swing by for her but here she was doing anything BUT paying attention to her. Older was either on her phone typing something violently, which was suspicious to her, or speaking to ningning and Giselle.

Which angered her more.

Older didn’t know Giselle at all but here she was laughing and giggling with the girl. It was mostly Giselle cracking jokes while y/n laughed along.

The girl's laugh was so beautiful but there was no time for that.

She needed to get her attention.

So when she finished shooting, she walked over to the two and put her arm around y/ns shoulder so casually as she looked at her with a smile.

“I'm done with mine.”

y/n was lost for words. Sudden skinship and eye contact made her lose her mind in seconds and felt her legs go weak for whatever reason.

“U-uh that's great! we should wait for ningning to finish up–”

“Aren’t you here for me?” Karina asked with a small pout. y/n was gonna lose it.. There is no way she’s gonna fall for a girl this easily. It's not fair. She looked away with a hint of blush.

“I promised ningning to wait for her”

“Aww shucks, then we will wait together and go to the park,” Karina suggested as y/n agreed.

“Sounds like a plan”

“Great I'll get changed then”

y/n hummed in agreement as Karina walked away while the Japanese in front of her gave her stupid smile.

“What?’

“Are you in love with my leader?”

“no, I'm not.”

“Sure and there’s a flying pig behind you.” “Where?!” older yelled as she turned excited causing staff to be slightly startled by the girl's outburst. Japanese let out a huge laugh as she threw her head back slapping y/ns thigh as the older looked at her annoyed.

“Not funny!” she said as she crossed her arms with a pout while the girl laughed even more.

“It was the top 3 funniest things you have done ever since you arrived!!”

“Wait what is the other 2?”

“Well when you got us drinks and forgot about your friend's allergic reaction to the ingredients and second is losing your shit every time my Karina looked at you and you either choked on your drink or just look away embarrassed”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Even staff in the back noticed!” the girl said as she laughed again, slapping y/ns thighs again as she laughed. It was obvious the girl had a hitting problem while laughing so the older took note of it.

As they laughed Karina finished up getting ready and walked over to two girls. Her eyes hawk onto Giselle's hand that rested on y/ns thigh after laughing so she sits next to y/n looking at Giselle with a look that girl caught onto easily and removed her hand.

y/n looked to her side seeing the black-haired girl sitting next to her. She had put her hair in a loose high bun, and the dress she was wearing had leopard print as a design with a short hemline, falling right above mid-thigh. The dress was well fitted around her small waist, the skirt was flowy, and for legs, she wore black thighs underneath knee-high black boots. It was a simple yet beautiful look that made y/ns breath hitch. The girl next to her smiled at her as she noticed that y/n's eyes lingered on her look for a while.

“y/n”

“Yeah?” the girl snapped out of the trance as she looked at her face. Her makeup was perfect too. Nothing too much, it made her look clean, subtle, and elegant. Light fair skin with a tint of blushes and reddish underlines for her eyes topped with brown light eyeliner. Her lips were perfectly shaped too. Her lips have a soft, pinkish hue that compliments the overall natural look. Her bangs also covered her and the girl was probably the most beautiful she has ever been so far even if it's the first time they met.

“We should get going, ning finished up and is changing now.”

“Alright finally!!” the girl said as she got up and stretched a little causing her sweater to lift. y/n grabbed all of her belongings making sure to double check and turned to Karina.

“Let's get going then.’ she said as she offered her hand to Karina which younger accepted in a second and took it into hers.

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