#eventual smut

[hey-august]

I know I'm pathetic - Pt 1

(Fic tag)

WC: ~450 Warnings for the entire story: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, not an established relationship, dubcon, auralism, masturbation, buggy is a fucking perv, slight degradation kink Tag list: @rorywritesjunk

Title from Pathetic by blink-182

It happened again. Buggy lost his goddamn ear somewhere on the ship. He misplaced the small appendage during the afternoon, some time between bottles three and four. It wasn’t the only bit of himself that he lost, but the only one he wasn’t able to track down hours later.

The crew knew to put his body parts in plain sight whenever they came across abandoned pieces - setting them in a hallway or on a table so they can find their way home. This became a rule after too many hungover mornings were spent playing hide-and-seek. Any crew members that couldn’t find a good place to hide themselves were recruited to find any hidden body parts littered around the ship.

After The Great Search for Buggy’s Middle Finger, came The Great Ice-Out of Captain Shithead. Buggy barely made it through half the day before he had an unprecedented meltdown.

Cabaji eventually caved and told the distraught clown that the only way to get the crew to acknowledge him beyond following orders was to deal with his rogue body parts on his own. The captain only agreed when Cabaji had enough of the emotional outburst and dismissive arguments about shared responsibilities.

Buggy was still prowling the ship late at night, shoulders tight and fists clenching and unclenching with each step. He was looking and listening for anything that would help him find his fucking ear. Every so often he heard something, but not enough to figure out where it was. Until he could hone in and concentrate, he wouldn’t be able to pull himself together.

His head was beginning to ache with how hard he was focusing on the muffled thuds and thumps that had been sounding off for the past few minutes. Finally, Buggy heard something different. It was a little more crisp, but he couldn’t place what the sound was. Maybe it was the ship creaking.

“Oh fuck…”

He recognized that voice. Your voice. Where were you? Who were you talking to? Did you find his ear?

“Fuck!”

Your voice was still muffled, but it sounded like you were talking softly. Buggy couldn’t hear anything or anyone else. Taking a chance, he hustled to where your room was. As he got closer, the pirate felt the invisible thread that stitched his body together get stronger. His ear must be in your room. Fucking finally.

This wouldn’t be the first time he wound up somewhere odd. Especially with something small, it was easy for little bits and pieces to get caught up in and carried away. Swaddled in laundry, rolling with heavy waves, bumped and jostled until they were trappedin some nook.

With one hand raised to knock on your door and the other reaching for your doorknob, a new sound stopped all of Buggy’s movements.

[shamrockqueen]

Omega retreat : chapter 4

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader

Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, General Discomfort, nothing is what it seems, fluff, heart ache

Word count : 2131

Masterlist

He was very understanding when you asked him to give you time to think about his invitation. It was the turning point you hoped to avoid just a little longer, appreciating instead that you could be just like any other normal girl. Yet, some things couldn't be left on the back burner.

The untouched notification continued to light up your inbox, no doubt just being the website’s way of ensuring their reservation went through and they would be paid.

You turned over to look at your phone and the little banner still sitting at the top that said, “You’ve been invited to reserve a cabin by JAMES BARNES.”

It was fitting that he’d picked the Gold Package, and you had to admit, a sexy getaway was incredibly tantalizing.

Yet, everything felt rushed, and you knew exactly why. You knew you were always going to give in, but ever since that conversation at the hospital, you wanted so badly for every choice to at least be your own. Something you wanted to do, not be coerced by circumstances.

You told yourself every second after you’d logged into your computer, your eyes still heavy with broken sleep, that this was still your decision. Accepting the invite would be your decision, no matter what reason you had to make it.

With one simple click, it was done, a cascade of hearts flooding the screen as their little mascot hopped around with joy. It was cute, yet still a little cheesy.

You set the computer aside before laying back on the bed and letting the small streaks of sun coming in from the window warm your skin. You felt so oddly relieved, yet still so anxious. It was a good start, better than what you had before.

A small ding sang through the peaceful morning, and once again you emerged from your little sheet cocoon to grab your phone from the nightstand. It was a message from Bucky, and he seemed as excited as ever to have gotten your confirmation.

‘Good morning :D’

You smiled at the message, feeling more relief spread through your tired body as you typed back.

‘Morning. I take it you got the notification.’

You watched as those three dots jumped inside the prospective chat bubble before two popped up at once.

‘I did indeed.’

‘You have no idea how happy this makes me.’

Everything he said always seemed to make your heart blossom with a new feeling of warmth. It really put into perspective how tiring all that stress and anxiety really was when it finally started to disappear.

Expressing his eagerness through text must not have been enough for him, as the phone buzzed to life in your hand before you could type another reply.

You didn’t hesitate to answer it, and your belly fluttered at the low rumble of his voice as it sang through the speaker.

“Hey, doll”

“Hi. You miss me already?”

You heard him chuckle softly, probably smiling at the bashful tone in your voice. “I hope I’m not coming on too strong.”

“No! I think it’s really sweet.”

It was nice to have someone care this much about your needs, especially above their own. It was someone who wanted to take care of you at what may well be your weakest.

You hear him clear his throat for a second, shaking the sweet and sugary vibe that the conversation had started on. “Do I have the date right? If not, then I can fix the reservation..”

“No, you remembered very well. I’m actually surprised.”

“I guess I’m just excited.”

“That makes two of us; I’m practically shaking in my boots.”

He laughed back at your goofy little retort, and you giggled nervously along with him.

“I was kind of afraid you’d say no.” His voice seemed to fall again as he spoke, giving you a glimpse of a few insecurities of his own. “Like, maybe I scared you away.”

“As if.” You laughed it off immediately, bemused at the thought that he’d consider himself anything more than the teddy bear he’d shown you.

“I needed some time to take it in for a second. I just felt so much in the moment, ya-know.” You smiled down at the phone as you spoke, hoping you could melt his fears just as he did yours. “Believe me, you're not scary one bit.”

You swear you could feel the laugh he’d let out as you chuckled with him.

He’d talked to you for hours, showering you with compliments as he finalized the details of your trip.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to take that time off? It is pretty soon.” You stepped around your kitchen, looking for a mug to pour some coffee into. Bucky watched your shapely form as it moved across his screen, smiling to himself before you turned back to the phone and caught his eyes wondering.

The conversation had since evolved into a video call, letting you see the actual smile on his face. There would be glimpses of the rough grain in his facial hair and the deepening blue of his eyes, but there were finer details that you couldn’t see.

You wanted to see so much more, and soon you will. That thought alone made you feel so much happier.

He brushed his hair back with his fingers, leaving a thick lock behind his ear and a few strands to fall back across his forehead and cheek.

“I’ll be just fine; help to be your own boss.”

“Oh? Big boss, man, huh?”

He huffed a chuckle before he spoke back, “A story for another time, but I’ll tell you now it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

You gave him a little pout.

“What about you?” He asked, in a clear attempt to redirect the conversation back to the original question.

“Oh, I always get my heat off. It’s kinda like that for Omega’s.”

You were more than lucky to work in an environment that was so welcoming to people like you, and you were sure that your supervisor would understand.

“Makes sense..” You watched his eyes wander from the screen as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. It looked so out of date that it was no wonder why he only used the webcam on his computer.

“Nice flip phone, grandpa.”

He laughed back at you with “gee thanks, doll” before tossing down the bad news. “I gotta go.”

“Awe, already.”

“Yeah, nothing like a work emergency on a Saturday.” You watched him toss the phone on his desk offscreen before turning back to you. “I can’t wait to see you, Omega.”

“I can’t wait either, Alpha.” You felt his eyes shift as you spoke, as if finally hearing you say his denomination so diffidently.

You tapped the red button on the phone screen, ending the call before you turned it off and set it aside.

By mid-afternoon, you’d since decided to knock out a few of your household chores. You were already elbow deep in some soapy dishwater when you heard another familiar ringtone. You fumbled for the dish towel nearby to dry your pruney fingers before grappling with your phone.

You accepted the call and called back a sweet greeting to one of your favorite people.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hi sweetie. I haven’t heard from you in a few days..” Her concern was sweet, but you were quick to cut her short, not wanting another reminder of the previous incident.

“I’m fine, mom.”

She sighed back, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I know.”

“Any news?” Her voice lightened, truly hoping there would have been an update on your condition and even more so that it was promising.

There was plenty of news, wonderful news that you weren’t ready to break to your worrisome mothers just yet.

Better now than never, it seemed, “I met someone.”

“Oh?”

She didn’t sound happy, and every second afterward that she left you in silence made your once-airy mood deflate.

"He's uh...He’s an alpha.” Your jaw only tightens further as you wait for an answer back. Anything would be better than another ‘oh?’

“Well, that’s nice. W-where did you two..meet?” Her discomfort was never easily hidden, but at least she was trying.

“We met on this dating site, and we’ll be spending some time together soon.”

“I see. So is it a date to a cafe or dinner?”

“We’re going away for...." You struggled to find the words, "...it’s just this vacation rental somewhere quiet and calm.”

“Oh, a getaway. Sounds nice, but... you know your cycle will be coming soon. It’s probably best to be careful.”

“I-I'll be taken care of..."

“Are you sure? I can always be there to take care of you in case of another emergency.”

You felt your stomach tighten a little as she spoke.

“That’s actually why we’ll be out of town.” Your toes shifted along the floor, carting you to the fridge so you could grip the handle to better hold yourself upright.

She didn’t answer back right away, only giving you a weak “you can’t do that.”

It made the blood freeze in your veins, leaving your body tense against the refrigerator. “Mom..”

“Do you have any idea what might happen to you all that way from home?”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“The hell you do. You can’t do this. I can’t lose you.”

She seemed to spiral nearly as badly as you did.

“If I go through another heat without a partner, you fucking will lose me.” You nearly wailed as you yelled back into the phone, only to be met with a few moments of dead air.

It made the frantic beat of your heart seem louder and louder. Proof that no matter how calm the waters felt, you couldn’t escape the truth that swam beneath them.

“Sweetheart, I only want you to be safe.”

You knock your head back against the fridge before letting your body slide along the side of it, letting the newly mounting anxieties drag you down to the floor. “I’m not safe alone, mom.”

“I’m sorry. I know you wanted to wait for all this, and it’s not fair.” Her voice was just as weak as yours was now.

“It’s fine; I need to grow up sometime.” You said back, pulling your knees to your chest. You didn’t want to wallow in this disparity anymore; you were so sick of it all. It takes a single thought—a glimmer of hope shining through the dark clouds that have begun to circle around you.

You thought of Bucky.

“B..James’ is nice; I think you’d like him.” You had to quickly correct yourself, knowing his nickname had been sweet to you but could seem silly to others. You still remember the abashed laugh you gave when he first told you.

“I…good, that’s good.”

You knew that wasn’t what she wanted to say, and now you weren’t afraid to say it instead.

“You think you’d like him more if you’d gotten to meet him.”

“I didn’t say that, but yes.” You hear her voice wavering as she speaks. “I’m glad, though, that he’s nice. I hope you have fun on your trip.”

“Thank you, mom.”

“Please be safe, sweetheart. I love you.”

You sighed for a second before telling her you loved her too, and the call came to an end. You were still hugging your knees, nearly curling in on yourself in your kitchen. The floor was uncomfortable, and you finally unfolded yourself and pushed off of it. You missed the careless feeling you’d had while talking to Bucky, lamenting how easily your mood had dipped like a sinking ship.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair at all. Just when you thought you could escape the anxiety, it rounded its ugly head around each corner. Well, this time you wouldn’t be taking it lying down anymore.

You used this new momentum to spur yourself through the house and towards your bedroom. You bolted for your closet, determined now only to look ahead to your chance to get away from it all. You tore through your hung clothes, wanting to find anything that could impress your perspective, Alpha.

You found yourself leafing through more khaki shorts than you’d realized you’d owned. Faded sundresses and worn-out old sandals littered the pile, along with plain cotton panties in contrast to any lacy lingerie.

You still had a long way to go before you truly felt comfortable in your own skin. But certainly, a little shopping could do some good too.

There was a fire in your belly, burning you forward like an angry locomotive.

It will be a cold day in hell before anyone takes this opportunity away from you.

Tag list : @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard - Chapter 6: Promise

knight!simon riley x queen!reader

word count: 2.5k

[<<< chapter 5]

For the first time, in longer than you can remember, you don’t dread the morning sun. You watch it crest the horizon, feel its warmth radiate on your skin, bask in its dewey light- bathing you in a delightful glow.

And it feels so surreal, like you’re surely doomed to wake from this dream, like the strong arms that had held you so tightly, and the lips that kissed yours so passionately, were only figments of your imagination. Yet, when you reach out, your fingers graze over the very real, and very smooth, cold, dark surface of Simon’s helmet still sitting on your bedside table; unmoved since he had retrieved it from the balcony hours ago-

“It’s real, My Queen..” You suck in a breath at the thick rasp of Simon’s voice in your ear, earning you a sweet chuckle, the arm around your waist pulling you closer so he can bury his nose into the soft hair at the nape of your neck, “‘m sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

A deep sigh parts your lips at the way he feels, how solid and hot his body is wrapped around yours, his breath sneaking beneath the collar of your nightgown,

“Tell me,” You say, wriggling yourself even further against him, “can you read minds, Ser Simon?”

Your question riles a deep and genuine laugh from him this time, though he does his best to keep it quiet, only for your ears, and hopefully none that dare to pry-

“Why?” He asks, gently tugging you to turn over, “Somethin’ up here you wouldn’t want me to know?”

Smiles pull at both your lips when he taps your temple with the pad of his finger, and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen something as glorious as Simon’s dimpled smirk- Gods, why would he ever hide under that helmet.. it’s a fleeting thought, but one you hope to learn the answer to eventually. Hm, eventually, when is that? How much time do you really have with him? What could possibly-

“Hey..” His calloused palm settles over your cheek, thumb tracing a soft, back and forth pattern, his eyes narrowed in concern, “What is it? I lost you..”

Such a simple question, and such a simple statement, but they feel incomprehensible. That you could have given your life to man for years, and he still knows nothing of you, thinks nothing of you- but Simon, who has only been with you for a handful of months, has somehow learned you, maybe even better than you know yourself.

You rest your palm over his hand, unsure of what to say, or where it could possibly go; his promise ringing in your ears, reverberating through your marrow and bones-

“I’m goin’ to get you out of here. I swear it.”

“If we leave.. Where will we go?”

“When we leave..” His voice is steady and hardly above a whisper, the tip of his nose grazing over yours, “We’ll go wherever you like. The coast, inland, mountains, and forests- we’ll see it all.”

“But.. Simon- the King..”

So, so sweetly, you feel him pull your head forward just enough to crush his lips against yours- effectively silencing all your relentless thoughts, even if only for this glorious moment. Because it’s so easy to be consumed in him, in his power and his gentility, his brutish strength and the way he holds you as if you were made of the most precious and rare element he knew. And once again, you feel your body giving in to him- feel the tightness gather in your belly, and the ache grow between your legs. You want him, in every way that a woman can want a man- but all too soon, he’s pulling away again, his forehead pressing against yours,

“I will deal with the King, sweet girl.” He studies you, biting harshly at his bottom lip before glancing behind you towards the sunrise, “I have to dress- your hand maid will be here soon.”

You know you should let go of him, but it feels like you only just got him- and your stubborn heart wins against the logic of your mind as you lean into him again, kissing him with a little more urgency, a fervor behind your actions that he gives into, but only for a moment. He holds you back, eyes clenched shut in a silent battle all his own,

“Little Queen, you might think me a better man than I am..” He practically groans out the words, reaching down to hitch your thigh up over his hip, pushing his pelvis forward so that his want and arousal are made quite evident to you, “But, I beg of you, not here.. Not yet.”

There’s nothing in his words or his tone that could lead you to believe he doesn’t want all the same things you do, nothing about the hard length that presses against your cunt that could possibly make you believe he isn’t holding on by the thinnest of threads, trying his damnedest to be good to you- so that you’ll never, ever think that he simply wants your body and nothing else.

“Ok, Simon..” You nod, letting him press one more kiss to your lips, one so full of pining and longing, that it threatens to steal the air from your lungs as you reluctantly relent your hold on him so that you both could sit up, a little breathless and out of sorts.

But even though you’ve parted, it doesn’t stop him from planting a few more chaste kisses over your jaw and cheekbone before tearing himself away, allowing you to watch as he moves across the room. Seeing him only in his thin base layers is enough to raise your heart rate, remembering how you helped him shed his bulky armor last night- and now, you watch ardently as he picks it up and puts it back on, piece by piece- the thick muscles of his back and shoulders rippling and flexing with every practiced movement.

And, far quicker than you like, he’s sauntering towards your side of the bed, where you’ve sat so entranced by him- seeing him once more covered by the heavy steel plates, the ones that only make him larger than life, that make his already broad frame almost unnaturally bigger, his pitch black cloak billowing behind him,

“I’ll assume my post like always,” Simon says with a low tone, taking your bare hand in his gloved one just so he can place a gentlemanly kiss to the soft, pale skin, grabbing his helmet when he lets go.

You stand, looking up at him- committing every wonderful feature and flaw to memory before it’s covered again,

“And I’ll have a raven sent to Clan MacTavish, he can help us-”

But Simon shifts on his feet, your hand still engulfed by his own, “Are you sure, My Queen?”

And you can see the way his dark brows furrow behind the helmet, he doesn’t trust Johnny, but you can understand his apprehension- he doesn’t know the Scot like you do, and if what you think is going to happen, there can be no loose ends in what’s to come.

“Yes, I’m sure. There’s not a soul that we could trust more, Simon. I promise.”

This time, it’s you who lifts his hand to your lips, kissing the black leather as if to seal your own words- something a proper queen should never do, but the warmth that spreads through you when you see his eyes widen slightly makes you want to do it again and again.

He gives you a nod, not allowing himself the chance to waste anymore time, because gods know he would never leave you if given the option- but he must. There is much to plan, much to do, too many seeds of doubt to sow in far too short a time.

Johnny’s POV——

Work. That’s what it feels like for Johnny to come home. There’s no rest for the weary, no, not at the MacTavish estate, they’d never dream of allowing such a luxury-

Buncha fuckin’ dobbers they can be.. I swear.

Yet, he greets them all the same. Giving his Da a stiff, one-armed hug, exchanging the traditional three harsh pats to the back before moving down the path towards his childhood home.

“You’ll tell us about yer visit to court, won’t ye, Johnny?”

A warm smile spreads over his face as he looks down at his youngest sister, throwing an arm lazily over her shoulder,

“Well, hi to you, too, El..” Johnny teases, ruffling her dark brown curls playfully, “I’ll give ye all the juicy gossip tomorrow- after we get some shut eye, eh?” he says, nodding at the maid as they cross the grand threshold, “And I wan’ tae hear about this new constellation ye’ve discovered, my wee little genius!”

Elsie giggles and tries to escape his hold, going on about him being a numpty- all smiles and laughter until the most senior Lord MacTavish blows out a loud scoff,

“Enough o’ that, you two. Elsie, go on, need tae talk tae yer brother.”

She shies away almost too quickly, and it makes his stomach turn, seeing the flash of fear in her eyes as she gives his side one more weak squeeze before flitting off up the stairs-

“Been a long few days, Da. ‘M right ready for a bed-“

The door to the Lord’s study slams shut, cerulean eyes pinning Johnny down in an instant,

“I dinnae give two shites ‘bout how long it’s been, son. I told ya, if you were comin’ back here, ye’d better have a wife in tow.”

Johnny rolls his eyes- big mistake.

His father is a big man, and he’s never had an issue using his size against the lot of them- Johnny being the eldest, all the way down the line, and even their Ma, gods rest her soul.

Which is how he ends up with his back shoved against the closest wall,

“Mind yer fuckin’ attitude with me, boy.” He spits the words, making sure Johnny knows just how little he still in his father’s eyes, “Ye think yer someone big and important out there, huh? Think the army made ye tough, gave ye a big heid, that it? Well, dinnae forget who-“

But, see, Johnny isn’t that little boy anymore, he isn’t that frightened little teenager constantly in fear of the good Lord MacTavish’s thumb crushing him under its weight. His time in the army has treated him well, in fact. He’s bigger, taller, stronger, and faster- and too much time spent on the front lines has made his skin thick and calloused.

With a deep snarl, Johnny is quick to grab the older man by his collar and reverse their positions before he even knows what’s happening,

“Tha’s not how this works anymore, m’lord.”

If Johnny could sketch the shock and surprise in his father’s eyes, he would- hells, he might, because it’s a beautiful sight. One he thinks he’ll remember for a long, long time to come-

“And if I hear one more cross word out of yer filthy fuckin’ mouth, I’ll cut yer tongue out m’self. Is that clear?”

Matching blue eyes stay locked in a silent battle, young and old, a battle as old as times itself, father and son going head to head, a true fight for dominance.

The old lord’s lips curls in anger and disdain, his breath hot and laden with the thick scent of Scotch,

“Ah..” he coos, a chuckle bubbling from his barreled chest, “Aren’t ye a big hotshot, spent time with the little traitorous Scottish queen herself and suddenly yer invincible, that it?”

Johnny growls right back, pulling his father forward before slamming him against the solid wood even harder, “What? And yer still mad it wasn’t one of yer daughters, huh?”

The lord struggles against his hold, but turns out, the boorish old man isn’t all that strong anymore- at least not stronger than his son, which only enrages him more,

“I’m only here to settle my inheritance, ye insufferable old bastard. We’ll talk tomorrow, when ye think ye can speak to me like an equal-“

Johnny lowers his tone to something heavier, his voice dripping with malice, “and there will be none of this, ye won’t put yer hands on me, and I willnae put mine on you. Aye?”

A long silence stretches across the space between them, a heated pause, one that threatens to explode on a hair trigger- and maybe, it’s not actually that long, maybe it’s really only a few seconds, glaring daggers into his own father’s eyes before the old man gives a hateful, “Aye.”, in return.

And if Johnny just so happens to shove the self-righteous old cunt into the wall one more time for good measure, well- that’s between him and the gods he chooses to answer to. But, fuck all if it didn’t feel good to do it.

——

When he finally gets to his room, it’s a disparaging sight- dusty and stale, not a thing changed since he left years ago. And he wishes so badly to feel peace, to feel warmth and love in the place that he should feel all those things and more- in the place he did feel all those things when Ma was still alive.

Yet, it’s just sad and cold now, just how it was when he left. But, a smile does tug at his lips when he unlatches the case Sunny had sent home with him, packed to the brim with treats and fine fabrics and leathers. Some for him and each of his sisters, and an abundance of spares that would last them for a long while-

“Yer too good to us, Grianach..” he mumbles, popping a delightful, citrusy sweet in his mouth as he continues to unpack.

And it takes a while, but eventually he pulls a lone envelope from under a primly wrapped hunting vest, one of the finest he’s ever laid his hands on- the dark brown leather soft as butter in his fingers as he lays it to the side with care.

The bone white paper is thick and stiff, royal stationary that he knows well from letters and messages he’s gotten from her before; the edge sealed with a deep green wax crest- the king’s crest. It brings a disgusted grimace to his face, thinking of the last days with her, the terrible, mottled bruises on her skin- it makes him ill to his stomach to remember.

But, with a deep sigh, he gently pulls the seal apart- recognizing her handwriting right away- though, the farther he reads, the more his guts twist and wrench, the harder his heart beats and the less air it feels like he can suck into his seizing lungs-

No.. no, no, no. This isn’t right, it can’t be- not you, not my Sunny. How could you not tell me? Why didn’t you tell me how much pain you were in-

My dearest Johnny,

I pray this letter finds you well, cousin. And, I pray for your understanding in what I feel I must do, not only for myself, but more importantly, for you. Though.. I do not think you will see it that way, and I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry, Johnny. You’ve been my best friend since my first memories, never letting me forget that you’re one month and one day older than me, or that you learned to ride a horse first- remember sneaking out to the stables? I thought Mother would kill us both when you brought me back home covered in scrapes and muck. Oh, I miss the simplicity of those days, I miss it so much it hurts. That life I had for just a moment, where I was free and untethered- or well, I thought I was. And, I suppose, perception is what really matters, isn’t it?

That is what I’ve been taught my whole life, afterall, perception is key. That I must be at my best, presented in a pretty, pretty package- pleasing to the eye and well groomed enough so that the masses may never know the chaos that lies beneath the silks and jewels.

Well, my sweet Johnny, no more. I won’t do it, I will not be scruffed by the neck any longer, I will not live as a possession, an item, an object that only exists to be pretty and used. I am more than that, and I pray.. I pray you forgive me, I pray you are not disappointed, I pray that you remember me only as I was, and not what I have become. Remember me covered in scrapes and muck with a broad smile on my face and joy in my heart. That is the real me, not this fallacy that everyone thinks they know.

I have a trusted courier at the ready, the few earthly possessions I own that mean anything to me are to be delivered to the estate. They are yours. We always shared everything anyway, no need in changing that now. Be well, cousin.

All my love, your Sunny.

[chapter 7>>>]

taglist: @spxctorsslxt

[promiscuouscutie]

Here’s another All Yours pt. 8 teaser🤭🤭

This is my last week of school so yk what that means😈😈

[yanfeiimain]

Flip a Coin - Aventurine x Reader

Navigation Post.

May contain 2.1 spoilers.

Part 1 - wip

Comment here / send a request if you wanna be tagged!

...

Summary.

"Instead of offering you his room in the Reverie, Aventurine makes a bet, telling you to flip a coin. If it lands on tail, you can have it! If it lands on head however… you share it with Aventurine.

It's your only opportunity to stay on Penacony. And it all depends on a coin flip."

[nkirukaj]

The Radio Demon & the Billboard Doe (14)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! OC

Warnings: Swearing; Sexual Activity

Genre: Angst/Fluff & SMUT (& Humor!)

Word Count: 8.1K

14. Look at Me

Voe wakes up bright and early at around 10 AM (progress okay?), she enjoys the time she spends doing her makeup, so she decided to add some small earrings to her new ears. Her makeup was light and casual, but just enough to feel in control of herself. She pranced down the stairs with delight and spotted everyone in the parlor conversing and having a grand old time. She spots Angel in the crowd and skips up to him, hugging him from behind.

He’s shocked and caught off guard by this display of affection.

“What the hell- Oh hey,” he turns around inside of her embrace

She looks up at him with bright eyes “Hi,” she says happily

“Uh, did ya need something?”

She nods “I needed to say ‘thank you,’”

He blushes slightly “Oh, no problem. You doing okay?” She nods again “Yes,”

“Good,” he rubs the back of his neck and smiles at her

“You’re such a good friend,”

“I was just, helping out..” he sounds nervous but flattered

“Yeah, that’s why you’re a good friend”

He ponders “Yeah, I guess so,”

She hugs him tighter, placing her head on his torso, and smiling, he hugs her back, placing his head on top of her head.

“Awww you guys!” Charlie spots them hugging “That is so sweet!”

They pull back “Whatever,” Angel flips down his shades “I’m going to work,”

“As am I darling,” Voe fakes a British accent “So long!” as they head out the door

Voe has to walk twice as fast to keep up with Angel. “So I have something to tell you,”

“Okay?”

“So..remember I was telling you about my rut?”

“Mhmm,”

“And then you said I should try and fuck somebody?”

“Mhmmm,” he raises an eyebrow

She takes a deep breath before saying “I had sex with Lucifer,”

He raises his shades to look down at her “First off, not really surprised, but look at you!”

“Yeah yeah yeah, but that’s not it,”

“Well, what else?”

“Afterwards, I wasn’t really…I don’t know how to say it…but I guess satisfied?”

“He didn’t make you cum? OH shit!”

She shakes her head “No, he did. Multiple times, actually. But…you know how sometimes, you get hungry and then you eat something, and it’s good, but then when you’re done, you know that’s not the thing you wanted to eat?”

“I guess?”

“Yeah, it felt like that.”

“Maybe you wanted to fuck someone else?”

She nods “I thought so too. So I had sex with Velvette.”

His eyes widen “Uhuh…?”

“Still the same thing.”

He tilts his head “Well that’s good, cuz you wouldn’t want to be with her like that anyway.”

She looks around “Yeah, but I don’t know what to do.”

“Keep fucking everyone until you find the right one?”

She rolls her head back “Yeah, but that’s exhausting!”

He shrugs “I don’t know, but I gotta go. Good luck with your sex journey.”

She purses her lips “Be safe,” 

“You too, love,” he salutes her jokingly and walks through the doors to Val’s studio. Voe takes a breath, watching him leave before heading up to Velvette’s. 

Alastor sat in his room caressing his cheek. Her handprint was gone, but he could still feel the heat of the flame from her palm. Alastor hadn’t felt anything as invigorating as that slap. The conversation came back to mind, the intensity, the yelling, Voe being able to stand her ground against him…

Alastor was a truly refined man, but the months of October through December always tested his resolve. Whenever he was closest to losing control, it was during those months. He was constantly warm, his muscles tense, his breathing heavy, skin sensitive, and his heart rate faster than it had ever been when he was alive. His face burned as thoughts of carnal desires raced through his mind. He felt ashamed and somewhat disgusted with himself, he found himself to be above such things that drive other sinners wild, above their frivolous desires and weaknesses, but every year this time got to him. He usually sequestered himself around this time to make sure he can control himself. Nowadays he couldn’t do that, he was always needed and every time he left his room there was a chance to run into…her.

She’d been a thorn in his side since the very beginning, but her smell was addicting, and every moment spent in her presence was a moment to watch her in action, doing things. It was hard for him to explain, but he felt drawn to her, it was involuntary, magnetic, a compulsion to watch everything she did. Whether it be standing, walking, dancing, or just talking; while watching her he felt…happy? Maybe excited? Something about the movement of her waist and, pardon his French, derrière drove him up the wall with joy. Though nothing could compare to her lips; as he told her they were quite plump and soft-looking, perfectly round, and two contrasting but perfectly complimentary colors. They looked perfectly sculpted by an expert artist. When he watched her he felt like he had walked into a living art museum, and she was her own exhibit. She brought him joy. Simply put, she was beautiful, gorgeous, stunning. 

Engaging with her was frustrating, she was strong-willed and would never back down from him, her smugness and cockiness infuriating but exciting. Her behavior was interesting and her thoughts showed that she may be worthy of equal footing to him. He wanted to know more, wanted to get closer. Perhaps physical? Maybe a pat or a holding of her arm? Her waist?

Being around her made this time much harder. Adding to the physical reactions and the inappropriate thoughts, were thoughts of her. Daydreams or simple imaginations. And sometimes…the thoughts would mix. Thoughts of her helping him out and providing him with her…company. Then he would see her in person and it would be quite difficult to keep those thoughts from resurfacing. Like he said, every year around this time he would seclude himself, but being around her made him not want to. 

Entering Velvette’s studio she saw Velvette of course, looking through papers on a clipboard. Sitting in the corner of the space was Vox; stewing on his chair as he looked her up and down with contempt then made a show of looking away from her. She darts her eyes away from the man to focus on her boss.

“Ah! There you are! Good morning darling!” Velvette embraces her and kisses her on the lips. Voe nervously glances toward Vox in the corner, who only glares at her more and more angrily. “Just the doe I wanted to see. I have big plans for you, love!”

“Uh Velvette? What’s with flat screen over there?”

She glances back at Vox “Oh, him? He’s just here to help me with advertising,”

“Advertising what?” “Well, that’s the news! I’m planning a runway show. Starring you! And I want you to help me plan it!”

She widens her eyes “Really? Why?”

“Well, I based it off of you, so who better to help plan it? We’re going to recruit some more models that look a bit like you for this, but of course, there’s no beating a fucking original!” She grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her

Vox scoffs from the corner of the room “I could think of people,”

“Oh hush Vox! We’re done talking, you can leave now!”

Vox stands to his full height and exits the studio, glaring at Voe all the way out.

“Uh, what’s his problem?” She asks her boss

She shrugs “Ever since the interview, he thinks you’ve been lying to him about the Alastor stuff. I won’t let him hurt you but, watch your back.” She puts her hand on Voe’s shoulder 

“Yikes,” Voe pulls at her collar

“Anyway!” she claps “We have so much work to do.”

They discussed the clothing designs and the sizes that should be offered, and Velvette allowed Voe to pick the model candidates while caressing her thigh.

“You know you could stay here,” Velvette whispered in her ear “Since we have so much work to do, and we’ll be spending so much time together. I thought maybe you’d consider just staying here with me. We could have a whole new room made for you….” she draws circles on her thigh “Or you could sleep in my room with me,”

Voe clears her throat, smiling “Thank you, I will consider it.”

Velvette seems quite offended at the lack of a ‘yes’ “Whatever,” she rolls her eyes “Oh! By the way, Vox also wanted to know if you had any more information on the Red Beast?”

“Umm? He brought me home after the disaster at the club,” she offers

Vox immediately kicks down the door “HE WHAT?!”

“My DOOR! DAMMIT VOX!” she rubs her forehead “She’s saying that Alastor brought her home from the club.”

Vox grins “Oh did he?”

“Very interesting isn’t it?”

She drops her hands to her sides and purses her lips “Yeah, when I woke up I was in my bed. He said that he carried me and tucked me in. He even gave me a glass of water.”

Vox and Velvette grin at each other devilishly. “Really? Is there anything that he said in particular? Anything you two talked about?”

“Like what?”

“Anything at all?”

She puts her finger on her chin “We talked, but about a lot of stuff.”

“What did you talk about? Tell us everything.”

“Well, he mostly kept asking why I licked him-“

Vox laughed out loud “H-HA HA HA. I’m sorry, You licked him? Why-Never mind I don’t care. Anything else, my dear?” He’s suddenly looking down on her with happy eyes 

“Uh, yeah. I…kinda slapped him..”

“Really?” Velvette asked. Voe nods “And you’re still alive?”

She looks down at herself “Alive as I can be.”

“Someone’s going soft,” Velvette glances at a grinning Vox “Anymore?”

“I… asked why he wanted to do radio.”

“Really?” Vox leans down, grin getting wider “What did he tell you?”

Vel scoffs “Better not be anything sentimental and boring,”

“Uh, then you’re gonna be disappointed,”

“Ugh,”

She takes some time to recall “He said, it was because, on the radio, your looks don’t matter, as long as you have the voice.” She smiles to herself thinking of his poignant words

The air is silent before Velvette and Vox break out into manic laughter, Vox especially. 

Vox wipes a digital tear from his eye “I’m sorry, is that all?” he straightens his tie

Voe is unsure of what was so funny, but she guessed it wasn’t a joke for her to get “Uh, yes. That’s all,”

“Alright,” Vox says, standing tall “Velvette?”

“I know what to do,” she says, typing into her phone “Okay, you’re dismissed.” She waves Voe away, and the doe gets up and leaves. She heard their cackling through the closing door.

____________________________________________________

“So, everyone is probably wondering why today’s activity is at night, and that is because my dad,” Charlie gestures toward Lucifer “Is so busy during the day and he wanted to join the activity. So let’s give my dad a round of applause,” the resident’s clap for their King, Voe especially

“Amazing parenting,’ she jokingly says toward Lucifer, who is sitting next to her, with his hand on her thigh

Charlie seems slightly put off by it but continues on anyway “Tonight’s activity is simple. We’re just going to say how our days were, and our favorite parts. And we’re gonna go popcorn style, so whoever wants to go can just go!”

“I’ll go,” Angel pipes up from the other side of Voe

“Oh wow, Angel! That is amazing! Go ahead!”

“Woo Angel!” Voe cheers for her friend

“Well, the good news is that I finished work early, and my favorite part was that I scored some heroin.”

Charlie’s eyes are wide “Not exactly the kind of news I was looking for, but great job! Seriously, amazing!”

“Where’d you score heroin? Where’d you get it from?” Voe whispers to the spider

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She nods “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking,” but he just ignores her

Lucifer clears his throat “I’d like to go next. My day was great because I got to spend it with my daughter and meet new incoming sinners. My favorite part was getting to know them and helping them find a place to stay,”

“Dad! That’s amazing!” The residents clap again

“He’s amazing! Best King I’ve ever seen,” Voe says smiling at him

“Who’s next?” Charlie asks

No one goes.

“C’mon! Don’t be shy!” She scans the crowd “Voe! Why don’t you go next?!”

“What the fuck?”

“Please?” She rolls her eyes “Um, I guess my day was cool. My boss wants me to help plan a runway show-“

“Aw, that’s amazing!”

Voe lightens up at the validation “And the clothing line is based on me and my body type,”

“Wow Voe! You’re really making a name for yourself in Pentagram City! I’m so proud of you!”

The residents clap for her

Angel scoffs “No one clapped for me,”

“Well, I’m just glad that I’m earning more of my boss’s favor, so I guess that’s my favorite part,”

“Yeah, much more,” Angel mumbles under his breath and Voe elbows him

“That’s all.” She smiles at Charlie

“Great job!”

Lucifer whispers in her ear “Great job Ducky, I should reward you later,”

She turns to him and they grin at each other, and she gives him a playful warning look.

Alastor stands a few feet behind the parlor couch where the two of them sit. He glares at their playful joy.

“Guys come on,” Vaggie pipes up “This is part of your redemption, just tell us how your day was. It could literally be one word.”

“I’d love to participate!” Alastor raises his cane

Charlie blinks “Really?”

“Yes of course! We’re all a community!” he shrugs “My day was quite splendid!”

“Okay?” Vaggie questioned, waiting for more

“You did say it could be one word,”

Vaggie’s lips form into a straight line “Okay, thank you Alastor. What an amazing example!” She says sarcastically

Lucifer, the pigeon, has a smug grin as he whispers something into Voe’s ear and she starts to giggle, hitting him playfully. Alastor’s rage grew every second he stared at the two of them, canoodling like they were close friends, or worse, something more.

“Hmm, discussing ways to fix that ‘depression’?”

The whole room grows silent.

“Wow,” Angel deadpans “Talk about douchebaggery,”

Even Husker is surprised at the level of assholery that came out of his boss’s mouth.

Voe turns around, giving Alastor a disgusted look “Alastor, mental health is not something to joke about. Depression is…serious.” She just looks disappointed in him. She turns and comforts Lucifer “I’m sorry Luci, I don’t even know why he would say that.” She kisses his forehead

Alastor looks around to see no comfort in anyone’s eyes “I have things to do,” he says before dissipating into the shadows

Voe wraps her arms around Lucifer’s shoulders

Later that night as Angel was walking back to his room, a familiar cloud of shadow appeared in front of him, they faded away to reveal Alastor, already looking annoyed at his presence. Angel does a double take, seeing no one else in the hallway.

“Holy shit, is this going where I think it’s going? Finally!” he puts his hands on Alastor’s shoulders “Well, I prefer missionary, but-“

“Get your hands off me,” Alastor speaks quietly and evenly, but with much anger behind it

“Okay, maybe it’s not.” Angel drops his hands

Alator stands his cane on the floor “Tell me what you know about Voe,”

Angel leans on one of his legs “What about her? There’s a lot to know,”

“What is happening between her and…Lucifer?” He grits his teeth just saying the King’s name “You agree they seemed awfully close during tonight’s activity, yes?”

Angel smirks “Why do you wanna know?”

“I just do.”

Angel’s amusement rises “Are you jealous Smiles? Is that why you said that tasteless joke back there?”

“I just believe that she can do better,”

“Like you?” he raises his brows

Alastor tilts his chin up “Looking at you, maybe there is a brain up there,” he taps Angel’s head with his cane

Angel swats the cane away “Look, you should really be asking her all this, why you coming to me?”

“Because I did. Now tell me what is going on between them.”

Angel leans against the wall “It’s not my information to tell-“

Niffty scurries up between the two men “Hi Angel, Hi sir! I heard you guys talking! Mommy and the Bad Boy have sexy times! I’ve heard them through the door! It sounded really dirty. I wanted to clean, but they wouldn’t let me in!”

“Oh,” Alastor responds in surprise “Thank you, sweetie,” he pats Niffty’s head “Have a good night Angel!” Alastor calls as he walks down the hall

The spider glances at Niffty “What?” she asks “I hear you in your room too!” she bounces excitedly

______________________________________________________________

A/N: There’s smut a coming!

I think he really wanted some attention today. he told some tasteless joke about depression

🤭😭😂

After texting her boss Voe plugs in her phone, leaving it on the nightstand face down, turning her lamp off, and closing her eyes. If not to sleep then to at least relax herself into peaceful imaginations. 

After barely two seconds of having her eyes closed she felt a cool-ish breeze in her room in the direction that her back was facing, which was odd since her room was usually kept warm. She turns to face her bedroom door, seeing only darkness, with her ears twitching all the while. She picks up one of her pillows and throws it at the darkness, where it reaches a certain point, and then explodes into feathers. She lets out a sigh mixed with a grunt.

“What?”

Alastor opens his crimson eyes and speaks “Hello, my doe”

She was annoyed but couldn’t help blushing at being referred to as his doe. Was he claiming her as his?

“What?” she repeats herself

He takes a step toward her bed “Well that isn’t a very polite way to speak to your…friend.” he says the word like it’s dripping from his teeth

“Yeah? Since when are you concerned with being polite?”

“Since right now, of course. Keep up.”

She rolls her eyes “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you,”

Voe’s breath gets caught in her throat. There is no way he just said that to her. He must’ve meant it in a sick twisted way “Like for dinner? Or a snack?”

He chuckles, clearly amused “Speaking of snacks, I went to look for you in the kitchen and you weren’t there,”

“Obviously, because I’m up here,”

“Yes. Why?”

She crosses her arms “I wasn’t hungry tonight,”

“Yes, I suppose you’ve gotten full off of… apples,”

She raises her eyebrow “What?”

 “Truly, my doe I simply thought you had better taste and better manners than that,”

She stands off the bed and walks over to him “What do you mean exactly?”

“Just that it’s rude to vie for the affection of one man while entertaining another,”

Voe stares up at him in disbelief “Are you calling me a slut?”

Alastor sounds playful “No, of course not! I’m simply saying that I was unaware that you were starving this much for attention. If I had known, I would have obliged much sooner.” He looks at his nails

She squints “Say what you want to say to me Alastor,” her tone turns serious

“There’s something about you. I can’t behave normally when you’re near. I am thrown off kilter and my mind scrambles when you are present.” He turns his head downward “And I can feel it even when you’re not,”

Her eyes pierce into his “And?”

“I smell you everywhere.” He speaks through his teeth

Voe rubs her eyes and stares up at him “What?”

“You are deliciously suffocating.”

“Oh yeah? What do I smell like?”

“Hot, wet, sweet, and…sticky”

“Oh,” she blushes shifting the orientation of her legs

“I hear you’re getting hot and sweaty with Lucifer. I cannot believe that you would do that to yourself. That absolute turkey doesn’t deserve you.” He steps closer to her

“Really? And who does?” She questions somewhat mockingly 

He grabs her waist and presses her against the door “Me.” He says, sounding full of rage and lust

Voe looks up at him, feeling a tingle in her chest “Um, to be honest, I’m really turned on right now..? I’m not sure if you’re doing that on purpose or…”

“Do you actually think that I can just exist normally, with you walking around, acting and…looking like that?

“Like what?”

“All…like that,” he gestures to her face and body 

“Like what?!”

He squeezes her waist “Gorgeous,” he growls down at her 

Her neck flushes, but she bites back “What about you, huh? Am I supposed to just go about my day after you growl in my ear and get all up in my face? “ she waves her hands in her face “Your 7ft tall ass, looking down at me with those sexy piercing eyes, touching me with those long fingers…” she slows down her words “and sharp claws I want you to scratch me with.”

He forcefully shoves her up against her door, the pain rattles through her and ignites a fire in her core.

“Your curvaceous body, begging to be cupped and seized by my hands.”

“Those teeth I want you to sink into my skin,”

“Those lips I crave to feel on me,” his voice lowers in pitch and volume

“Those antlers I dream of holding onto,” 

“You smell amazing,” they both breathe out

Alastor reorients himself, takes a breath, and continues “I should like to make a deal with you.” 

“I will own my soul for the rest of my existence Alastor,” she spoke assuredly and somewhat flatly

“Not for your soul,” he approaches her, cupping her chin, the tips of his long, slender fingers almost reaching the bottom of her eyes. This forces her to turn her neck up to see him “I need something from you.” His voice lowered in pitch and sounded more intimate. 

She raises an eyebrow “You. Need something from me?” She sounded quite incredulous “What?” She crosses her arms, and he drops his hand, her head still angled upwards. 

“I am…in a bit of a rut.” She looks slightly confused. He gestures towards his slightly bigger antlers “A rut.” 

Her eyes widen as she processes the meaning of his words. “Mhmm..”

"I need your company to help me through it. In exchange, I will owe you a favor on your terms," he said.

She snorted. "My company?"

"Yes," he said, dragging the word out and straining his smile as his eyes betrayed annoyance at her lack of understanding. It took her a minute or so to comprehend the truth behind his request.

"Oh! My company! You want me to..." She widened her eyes and grinned slyly, clearly aware that she held the power in the situation despite Alastor's attempts to portray otherwise. She was a bit embarrassed to admit that she didn’t think the Radio Demon would be affected by mating season. "Why me?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. Her smirk grew as she saw the impatience in his eyes and the way he tightened his fingers into a fist to avoid grabbing her immediately.

“You are just the least objectionable option within my vicinity, darling. Don’t think too much about it.” He went back to sounding as though he was performing in front of an audience.  

“Okay but, the ‘great’ Radio Demon never was one to settle for the ‘least objectionable’ option. No, Alastor has to have the best!” She leans into him “Am I the best?” She asks in a mocking tone. 

“Think what you want my dear. Besides, you are a doe. It just makes sense. Do we have a deal or not?”

“Okay…I will give you my company, but in addition to the favor,” she pauses, crossing her arms and placing a finger on her chin. “You have to let me touch you,”

“During..?”

“And after. Indefinitely.” She says, her tone confident and unwavering  “Do we have a deal?” She sticks her hand out to him. 

He squints at her, rolling his eyes, not exactly loving the terms, but considering that he was somewhat desperate and physically needed her at this point, he sighs, “Fine.” And takes her hand, the room lighting up with green as the deal is struck. 

They stand there in silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to do something.

“So how shall we proceed?” Alastor asks, his cheeks the same shade as his eyes

Voe’s eyes widen “Oh you want it now!” she exclaims, Alastor giving a curt nod in response. She looks up at him “Do you not know what to do?” she takes a step toward him

“Well… I’m not exactly sure how to get started.” He says playing with his fingers

“You were around in the 1920s there’s no way you don’t know what sex is.”

“I know,” he hissed at her “what it is. I just haven’t…indulged in that kind of activity.” He looks away from her, and his hands grip his cane as though he doesn’t know what to do with them

Voe’s mouth dropped open, “Are you a virgin?” Alastor doesn’t answer, but turns fully away from her “You’re a virgin!” She whispers with a grin “Hey, turn around” he does “I’m not judging, I’m just flattered that I’ll be your first.” She bats her eyelashes at him

“Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is my dear.” 

Voe’s eyes turn from doe to siren in an instant “Let me hold your cane.” She asserts. 

Initially, Alastor rejects this but is soothed by her humming as she wraps her fingers around the part of it in his hand, and removes it from him, examining it, and carefully placing it against a wall. 

“Sit please.” He obliges, unaware of why he’s even obeying her in the first place. She carefully removes his coat, hanging it on a hanger, humming all the while. When she returns she places her hands on his shoulders.

“You’re so…” she runs through all his qualities “confident. So ruthless, and so powerful.” She faces him towards the mirror “I’m truly honored that you came to me for assistance.” Her hand slinks around his throat, her other hand removing his monocle. Alastor is tense at the touch, but since she is gentle and caring with her fingers, he easily settles and becomes comfortable. 

“To be able to manifest anything, or destroy anyone that comes your way,” she bites her lip and sucks in some air “Never in my life did I meet a man that powerful,” her grip slightly tightens around his throat, while her other hand is sliding down his chest. “It’s so sexy..”

She circles back around to the front of the chair and places both hands on the armrests, standing above him. 

“Can I sit on your lap, Bambi?” She smirks 

Alastor reaches out and pulls her on top of him. “Ooh,” she cooed, placing her hands on his chest “I’m going to take these off okay?” She pinches his vest and shirt. 

“Proceed,” he watches her carefully as she unbuttons and removes the vest, draping it across the back of the chair. When she reaches for the shirt, he grabs her wrist “It seems unfair that you haven’t removed any of your clothing, doesn’t it my dear?” His brows furrowed 

She snickers and pulls her wrist free “Okay,” she smiles flirtatiously and pulls her shirt up over her head, leaving a bralette “Is that better?”

“Much,” his voice bordering on a growl

She makes quick work of the buttons and Alastor tenses before she removes the garment. 

“Everything all right?”

“Everything is…fine.” He looks away from her and she turns him back by his chin

“We can stop if you’re feeling uncomfortable, remember that” he nods once and watches her pull off his shirt to reveal a torso covered in scars. On his chest, his stomach, and even his neck. The largest one from Adam, going from his left shoulder diagonally to the top of his stomach. Voe marvels at them, tracing her hands and fingers over them, eyes wide and lips hanging apart. Her nails were trailing behind her fingertips, leaving a slightly pleasant sting behind. She gets lost in his scars before she looks back up at him, her lower lip between her teeth. 

“Would you like me to take off my bralette?” She whispers

“Your…bra?”

She smiles as if he’s amusing “It’s a bralette” She chuckles

He holds onto her waist as if his life depended on it “Yes,” he stares at her chest intensely as she raises the fabric over her head, freeing her breasts from their caging. Alastor’s neck reddens slightly as his body grows warm, staring at her newly naked flesh. 

“Would you like to touch me here?” 

“Yes,”

She grabs his wrists, placing each hand on a breast gently. He instinctually massages them, feeling her hard nipples against his palms. She shuts her eyes as she pulls her lips in, chest vibrating from her moans. He gets rougher with his touches and her moans get louder. His cock jumps in his pants, against her clothed cunt. The jump opens her eyes and she touches his chest. 

“Stop.” She breathes out “Or I’m gonna cum early” she laughs

She presses her body against his, hugging him, both of them topless. “How does this feel?”

“Fine, my dear” he responds, grateful she cares about his comfort level, but also growing impatient at the slow pace. She can feel his heart racing, and he can feel hers. 

“Do you want to remove your own pants?” She asks, still holding his body against hers. 

“Yes,”

She removes herself allowing him to stand and remove his pants, unsheathing a thick and long beige-ish gray cock with a tuft of red pubic hair above it. 

Voe’s eyes are wide as can be and her eyebrows up to her hairline. 

Alastor starts to feel self-conscious and vulnerable as she stares, “What?” He snaps

Voe blinks “Where have you been hiding that?”

“Under my clothes?”

“Um no, there has to be some sorcery involved, because when you wear clothes you look flat as a board, now I find out you have a whole log between your legs!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, my dear,” he shrugs, his grin turning cocky

She grins “Oh now I’m super excited for this!” She claps, going to remove her pants when Alastor reaches out

“Wait,” And she does. “I would like to do it,”

She wears a wide grin “Okay,” her voice deep and melodic

Alastor bends over to pull her sweatpants down. 

“It’s easier with you on your knees,” her smirk never wavering. She lifts her leg, placing her foot on his shoulder to press him down into a kneeling position which he acquiesces to. Once on his knees he removes her pants and helps her step out of them. Once only her panties were left, he stared at the garment, placing her foot back on his shoulder to stuff his face into her clothed core, taking in the scent that had been taunting him for weeks.

“Ah!” She yelps at the suddenness of his actions. His nose unknowingly stimulates her erect clit “Oh! Mmmfuck…” she reflexively rolls her hips against his face, creating more friction and more drippage that he longs to sniff. “Oh my gosh, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum on your face!” she whispers

He inhales her scent once more before removing the lace garment, seeing trimmed red pubic hair adorning her light brown vulva. He looks up at her from on his knees and she extends a hand to him which he takes and stands to his full height. 

“Oh my gosh, you do have a tail! And hooves!” She announced in shock and delight 

“Tell this to no one,” he states sternly. He clears his throat “Please,”

“It’s cute,” she touches his face “I love your body,” she speaks sincerely at a low volume. She boops his nose and it twitches in response. 

“You can’t love it as much as I love yours,” he drags his thumb down her plump lips. She catches the digit inside her them, sucking on it to her heart’s content. His face turns a similar shade to his hair. For once he was speechless, the rest of his fingers under her chin. His cock twitches in the air, her eyes darting down to view it. With his thumb still between her teeth, she grins. She removes it from her mouth. 

“Wanna bet?”

“Honestly I am…frightened of taking that bet,”

Her grin turns evil “Smart man,” she winks

“So…what now?” He looks around 

She claps “If this is going to happen, you need to take off that radio filter. You’re talking to me, not a mic”

“Okay…” he says without it, squinting at her

“Ooh, that’s better,” she pushes him into a sitting position on her bed “Now, we need to discuss positions.”

“All right,”

“What position would you like to try?”

His face is full of confusion “My dear, I have no idea to what you are referring,”

She chuckles “How would you like our bodies to be while I give you my company?”

“I suppose I shall take the lead?”

“Of course, you will,” she turns her head “Just like a man too,” she jokes under her breath

“Hmm?” He tilts his head

“Nothing!” She claps again “Anyway! There are many positions where you can take the lead. Such as doggystyle/leapfrog, butterfly, lazy dog-“

“You have experience in..all of these?”

She grins “Yes,”

“What do you propose for a..novice like me?” He sounds annoyed and self-conscious at once, not being the one in control

She taps her chin “Hmm. Is there anything specific that you’d like to happen?”

He thinks “Well, I’d love to stare at your pretty face”

She nods “Alright perfect! We can do missionary!”

“Missionary?”

“Mhmm. One of the simplest and most common positions. You probably know of it, just not by its name. Great for a newbie like you!”

She climbs on the bed next to him, laying on her back. “Come.” She orders “You get on top of me,”

“Alright,” 

He crawls toward her, sliding into the space above her. He places his hands on either side of her, holding himself up while climbing on top. 

“Because you want to see my face?” she asks playfully, smiling up at him. “Do you think I’m pretty?” she teases. He doesn’t answer, so she runs her hand through his hair and scratches a spot behind his ear. His eyes widen and his ears stand up, but then relax, as does the rest of his face. His smile becomes less about dominance and more about joy. “Tell me I’m pretty,” she breathes out to him. Finally, he speaks, “You’re quite beautiful, darling.” before he sinks his teeth into the skin of her neck, drawing blood. He licks it up and she moans, liking the pain. 

The weight of him on top of her was comfortable and cold. A nice chill to offset her warmth. He was thin, but not enough to see his bones. She pulled him closer as he bit and licked on her skin, leaving marks all around her neck and collarbone. 

“You’re so cute without your monocle,” she giggles and tells him when he comes up from her neck, still running her hands through his hair, touching and caressing his ears, which were twitching in response. 

“Are you still hard?” She flutters her lashes

“Yes…” he’s looking down at her face, still flushing 

“Let’s be sure,” her eyes are lidded as she drags her tongue across her palm, reaches down and grips his cock, to which he makes a buck grunt. Her eyes light up “Ooh, Bambi likes,” as she starts pumping the shaft. 

Alastor is embarrassed by his animalistic instincts, but the pleasure is too overwhelming for him to care. He’s letting out elk bugle sounds as she pumps him faster and faster, his cock hardening in her hand.

Voe is impressed with herself “That’s better,” She rubs the tip of his dick against her wet folds, causing herself to whimper. She positions it right at the entrance of her cunt, him feeling her wetness leaking out, oh so ready for him. “When you’re ready, just thrust forward, okay?”

He enters her, following her advice. The wet warmth greets him like he is coming back home. His eyes flutter and roll back, Voe closes her eyes, processing the pleasure. 

“You still don’t like me?” She grins devilishly after seeing his reaction, bites her lip and moans. “Still don’t like my attitude?”

He ignores her taunting in favor of checking in with her. He could feel her all around him as he presses through her heat “Are you alright?” He grunts out

“Yes, I’m fine”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she licks her teeth “Look who’s being gentlemanly.”

“I’m always gentlemanly.”

“Right. Is that in between being creepy and committing murders?” She smiles up at him. He flattens his brows and pushes himself deeper inside her at an agonizingly slow pace. She moans from the sensation, then groans from the pace. 

“Faster please,” she moans with her head back

He grips her thick thighs, his claws scratching against her soft flesh as he pushes himself deeper into her. She pulls his head down into her chest and bites his ear. Another bleat escapes his mouth “Look at me” she growls into the ear she had between her teeth, then lifts his head to leave kisses along his chin and throat.  Alastor grabs her wrists and pins them above her head, her face sprouting a smirk; as he thrusts into her forcefully. 

“Uh..yes. Keep doing that. Fuck…mmm…give it to me please,” She throws her head back exposing her neck. He grabs her chin and pulls her head back down.

“Look at me,” he purrs teasingly 

“I’d love to,” she pulls her arms free from him to wrap them around him and scratch into his back, noticing there were scars present there as well. She surveyed them quickly and decided that her mission was to add some more. She digs her sharp nails into his skin. 

The sensations build up inside them both. He fucks her hard as her eyes roll back into her head. Each thrust felt like it was digging inside, her sweet spot a punching bag for his cock. Once she opens them again, she is met with his face, oh so close and covered in sweat, his red hair sticking to his forehead. A close-lipped smile with closed eyes adorned his face as he was concentrating on doing a good job.

A good job at what exactly? Well, despite Alastor’s initial seeking her out for his own benefit, he’d developed an overwhelming need/desire, to please her. He hadn’t time to think about it, but he supposed he had a desire to maybe prove that he was worth something? That he could be of use to her in some capacity? She’d rejected his protection, as well as his guidance, so maybe she could keep him around for this?

What? No, that thought was dismissed from his head immediately. 

She pushes his hair back and meets her forehead with his, eyes open, drinking in the sight of her face, twisting and contorting with pleasure at every thrust and slap of her clit. She looks into his eyes, and he looks back into hers, visually devouring each other, each basking in the other’s scent, and lips so close they could almost taste each other. 

She snaked her hands through his hair once more, keeping him from being able to move his head or his eyes from her. His thrusts getting sloppier and less refined, both of their legs twitching, inching closer to their climax, him slightly losing control of himself while drowning in her eyes. 

“Don’t you dare stop,” She commands him, her lips brushing against his, while gripping a fistful of his hair. 

He grunts into her neck “I wasn’t planning to,” 

The sweat on their foreheads mixing, she looks him in his eyes “I need you to cum inside me Alastor.” She speaks with such authority, and unaware of why, he felt as though she was in charge. He, the great and feared Overlord, the Radio Demon, felt submissive to this doe that partially came out of nowhere, this common demon, this brat. He couldn’t help but follow the sound of her voice, and watch every movement of her face. The whines, the moans, the movement of her lips, the way her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. Normally he was full of retorts, but now he had nothing to say. The feeling of the warm wetness inside her had stolen his words. 

“Alastor,” she whispered his name, snapping him back into focus “Cum inside me okay? Can you do that for me?” She spoke as though she was teaching him something and was making sure he was capable

“We can do that right?” She nods and he nods along with her “Yeah? Yeah, we can do that, right? Mhmm?” She bites her lip as her words turn into moans, and she throws back her head, exposing her neck. He takes the opportunity to drag his thick tongue across it, tasting her skin and the saltiness of her sweat. Her core twitches in response. She wraps her legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper, as they both feel their climax edging closer and closer. She lifts her head back up and pulls the buck closer to her body. “I am so fucking close right now.” 

Alastor starts instinctively turning his head to hide the red on his cheeks but she’s having none of that. She grabs his chin and turns it back to face her. “No, you wanted to see my face right? Now look at my face. You think I’m so pretty right? I’m so pretty? Look at my pretty face while you fill me up with your seed. Look at me while you fill me with your cum. Fuck!” She lets out a low hungry groan “Fuck! I need it! Please…please…please cum in me Alastor, please” she begs him softly, her eyes bright and wide. The cognitive dissonance between her innocent appearance and the filth coming out of her mouth was at this point too much for him to handle. 

“My doe,” she looks at him “Guess who’s coming for you,” she raises a brow in confusion, as he grins. With one last thrust, he emptied inside her and her core clenched around him, twitching and holding him hostage, just in case he even thought about removing himself. All this while Voe stared directly into his crimson eyes, their foreheads connected. She then shuts her eyes, letting out a powerful satisfied scream, and grabs his lower lip with her teeth. 

He could feel their combined fluids leaking out into the towel she had placed down and they stayed there in that position staring at each other until the dripping stopped. Alastor was stunned, he had no idea what to do next, this was new territory, him feeling this way. Voe could see it too. She grins wildly at him and rubs her nose against his, which he reflexively reciprocates, his tail gently swishing back and forth. 

“You’re hot when you’re quiet. But you can get off me now.“ though her words were slightly aggressive, her tone was sickly sweet “Unless you wanna keep going, but you look like you’re tuckered out Bambi.” She spoke the last word with a teasing tone, snapping him back to his senses, seeing reality now. He removes himself from her, the air feeling cool compared to her warm insides. 

Alastor turns his head toward her “I assume based on your reactions that my performance was satisfactory, yes?”

Voe breathes heavily “What?”

“Was my performance satisfactory?”

“You want to know if you did a good job?”

“Yes,”

Voe starts giggling as she turns onto her stomach, putting her face into her pillow

Alastor seems slightly offended “I don’t exactly see what’s funny,”

“No one’s ever asked me to rate them before,”

“Just…give me a number off the top of your head,”

“Uh, I guess 7/10?”

“7??”

“A high 7! Almost 8!” She giggles

“Well that’s just unacceptable,” he rolls onto his back “I need a 10/10,” he smirks looking at the ceiling 

“You can try,” she draws circles in the bed with her nail

“I intend to,”

They lay in silence for a few beats, until Voe breaks it.

“Why don’t you sleep? Actually, never mind, you don’t need to answer that. I already know.”

“Oh please, you know nothing.”

“Yeah? You don’t sleep because it’s a vulnerable state to be in and you hate to appear vulnerable. You can’t stand the idea that somebody, anybody might take advantage of your vulnerable position and be able to…I don’t know, defeat you? Sound about right?” She asks turning to lie on her stomach

Alastor’s eyes remain wide open, as he he finally made speechless. The two stare at each other until Alastor says “I will confirm nothing, but if that were correct, I’d wonder how you managed to come to that conclusion.”

Voe snorts “I told you, my dad is a psychiatrist. It’s a skill. I was taught by an expert. So while you can read others, at least those easy to read, I can read you.” She rests her head on her hand

“Tell me something Vera,” he turns to her. She raises her brows in acknowledgment “Why do you not like to eat in front of others?”

She blushes, her eyes looking away “Um.. well I-“ she looks up at Alastor, who gives her his full attention “Sometimes I feel fat,” she mumbles 

“What’s that?”

“You know how I’m like, bigger in terms of my body? Well, sometimes I feel fat and disgusting. Like when I eat in front of people,”

“Are you joking?” He deadpans 

Her eyes dart around “No I’m not joking. Not that being fat is bad for anyone else, I just think it’s bad for me, if that makes any sense.”

“I suppose I understand,” he thought of himself, not in regards to weight, of course, he was quite slender. No, in regards to his ethnicity. He never desired to disrespect his wonderful mother, but throughout his life and even his death, he found it hard to admit to his Blackness. That somehow, made him less than others. But similar to Voe’s ideals, the Blackness in others- case in point, her- was not only acceptable but beautiful. 

She reaches out to touch his body, tracing scars on his chest, when she gets to the big one, he flinches in pain and she says

“That scar,” she points to his chest “You got that from Adam?” It’s a question, but the tone implies that it’s a statement

Alastor doesn’t respond, only staring at her with shame in his eyes, while his smile remained

“I know I wasn’t there when that happened, but I don’t think you’re any less strong,”

“I would like to stop talking about this,”

She stares at him “Okay,”

There is no sound in the room for a few moments. Voe just stares at Alastor as he examines his own chest and the scar on it. He pulls the cover over himself after a few minutes of looking at it. He blinks before saying “I do want to apologize for my…joke earlier. It was very tactless of me.”

“Yes, it was.”

Alastor clears his throat “I’d like to make something clear,” Voe turns to look at him, leaning on her arm “This will be happening again,” he says staring up, lying on his back

Voe turns his face to her “Rude, this is an intimate activity. If you want it again, you need to ask, and you can at least look at me.”

He sits up, clearing his throat again “May I have your company once more?”

She sits up as well “Once?” she smirks

He looks away sheepishly “Many more times,”

She turns his face again, making sure they are making eye contact, at least for a moment “Yes, you may.”

A/N: Ahhh!!! Thank you guys for coming this far with me into my fanfic! This chapter is really special to me because the last giant chunk is one of the first things that I wrote for this story and I am so excited that you all finally get to read it. Let me know what you guys think in the comments down below ⬇️

THANK YOU!!!!!

[aislynn-wiley1999]

Wandering Eyes

Summary: Aislynn goes to the Yule Ball with Sebastian, but her eyes keep wandering to another boy across the room.

Chapter 19 of my Fic “Three Headed Serpent” which can be found here on AO3 :)

Content: Alcohol, mention of sex, forced kissing, angst, jealousy.

Word Count: 2.2k

Imelda is fretting by her bed, occasionally holding pieces of jewelry up to me for an opinion as she tries to match things to her dress. I occasionally nod, not really paying attention to her vain worries as she hastily plans her outfit for the Yule Ball. I organized my attire last week, not wanting the very thing Imelda is going through to consume me at the last moment.

“You’re acting as if the ball is your funeral, Aislynn,” Imelda states, still rummaging through her jewelry case. A sour look goes across my face at her words. I was trying to be excited, I really was, but I could not convince myself of the emotion. Things should be better this year than last year. I have a date, a dress that I did not throw together at the last second, and two idiot boys will not have a jealous filled spat in the hallway because of me. So why was I not excited?

“I just think I’m regretting not having experienced more of these events,” I tell Imelda, pressing a smile to my face to mask my apathetic feelings. She shrugs, buying my excuse. “They are only really fun when you’re older. My first few balls were awkward and full of puffy dresses and boys who were too scared to ask for a dance. Thank Merlin, someone decent has asked me this year.”

Imelda had been asked a week or two ago by another boy in Slytherin, someone I really only knew in passing, named Luther. I hadn’t even known that she fancied him, but Imelda had been trying out many different boys since the start of the term. Always searching for one more interesting, more handsome than the last. Luther, who was tall with jet black hair, seemed to at least fall into the latter category.

“Luther is certainly handsome,” I say, trying to get her to talk about him so that I don’t have to comment on her jewelry anymore. Imelda beams, clearly pleased with the boy she has snatched up as a date for tonight.

“Isn’t he? I finally got a good one,” she says, holding a pair of earrings up to her ears. “What do you think of these?”

Looking at the earrings in depth, I smile and nod. They were pretty, everything she had shown me was pretty. “Are you going to get ready soon?” I ask, wanting an excuse to start getting my hair ready.

“I think I need to, it’s almost four o’clock, we have to be ready in a few hours,” she says. “Can you help me with my hair?”

I grin. “Of course, only if you help me with mine.”

Imelda throws her head back in a laugh. “Deal. Not like you have much hair to work with, anyways.”

—-----------------------------------------------

In the small mirror in our room, Imelda admires her final form before we depart to the hall. She looks lovely, dressed in a purple gown with enough gold jewelry to draw anyone’s eyes towards her. I plaited her hair, coiling it at the nape of her neck, and she has rouge on her face so that she constantly looks like she’s blushing.

“God, I look pretty,” she says, clearly pleased with the end goal. “You want a go with the mirror?”

Stepping aside, she allows me to gaze at myself in the small looking glass. I barely recognize myself, the girl in the mirror is such a stark contrast to my normal sullen self. The dress, dark blue with black lace, is more beautiful than I could have imagined. My hair, which has grown over time, sits a bit past my shoulders. Imelda masterfully pulled back the scrawny pieces in the front, twisting them and pinning them away from my face. I allowed her to apply the tiniest bit of rouge to my face, causing me to glow pink.

The real star is the jewelry I wear. Silver earrings, dangling with a pearl at my lobe. And my necklace. The very necklace Sebastian gave me, over a year ago. It was the one silver necklace I had, and it seemed fitting to allow him to see me in it. Looking at it, sitting against my chest, all I could notice was the small phrase carved in braille. What it meant to me, and how it could only be interpreted by one.

Pushing the thought away, I smile at myself in the mirror. Imelda is behind me, grinning, clearly pleased with her work. “You look absolutely ravishing. Sebastian will probably eat you alive.”

I have to force myself to not drop the smile on my face. I was not upset about going with Sebastian, but I knew to him it meant something different than it did to me. It meant lust, sex, courting, my lips on his. And I didn’t want that, any of it, anymore.

Imelda makes a comment regarding the time, and she pulls me away from the mirror. “We must go now, it started fifteen minutes ago, and I don’t want Luther to wait on me!” I let her drag me out of the room and through the common room towards the hall, where our dates planned to meet us.

I spot Sebastian before he spots me, and I can’t help but still admire how much effort he is willing to put into himself for fancier events. Dressed in all black, his hair less messy than usual, he looks handsome. He is handsome. And when he turns and spots me, it all almost seems like it’s going to be okay.

He looks as though he has been petrified, his body still as his eyes take me in. Mouth agape, he starts to walk towards where Imelda and I are, his pace hurried. Once he is a few feet from us he stops, and just admires me. Admires my dress, my hair, my shining face, the shy smile I give him. And even though Sebastian is just my friend, and I want nothing more from him, I eagerly take his hand when he offers it to me.

Waving quickly at Imelda, I let Sebastian pull me into the hall. “You look beautiful, Aislynn,” he tells me, his voice deep and hushed. “Want to get a drink?”

I nod and allow him to steer me towards the tables full of food and drinks. He pours us two glasses of some red liquid, and then quickly pops out a flask and pours something stronger into them. I drink, the flavor of the alcohol being masked by something pleasant and sweet. My eyes scan the room, pausing on Poppy and Garreth, and I smile. Despite not wanting to pursue each other romantically, the two still enjoy each other’s company and came together as friends for the night. I keep my eyes moving, trying to see who all is here, before pausing again when I see a patch on blonde hair.

Ominous is seated, alone, at a table in the corner. I try not to stare at him for too long, but I can’t help it. Since our last meeting on my birthday, I have longed to talk to him again. Aout anything or about nothing, but just to hear his voice. It was driving me mad, and I don’t even know why.

I am drawn away from Ominis when Sebastian plucks my cup from my hand and hauls me out to the dance floor. I let him grip my waist, placing my hands on his shoulders, and allow him to pull me close to him. The music is slow, but loud enough that people cannot hear what he is saying to me.

“I feel as though I have never seen another woman when I look at you. You are the prized possession to have at this ball,” he says, his voice ragged in my ear. “What I would not do to be alone with you at this moment.”

I don’t even know what to say in response to these things. His bold, unashamed comments only make me blush in embarrassment. I don’t want him to say these things to me, especially not while Ominis is in my direct line of sight. I gaze at him from across the room, before mumbling a quick thank you to Sebastian. My eyes can’t seem to leave the boy across the room, the one who can’t meet my stare.

The song ends and I start to pull myself away from Sebastian, my eyes still on Ominis. When Sebastian sees my face, he starts to follow my eyes to where they are directed. I look away, not wanting to be caught staring at his friend, but I am too late. He sees exactly who I am fixated on, and his expression sours.

“Am I not suitable company for you?” he says, his tone showing that he is hurt. I shake my head quickly, a fake smile on my lips. “Sorry,” I tell him, “I think I just zoned out for a bit. You look wonderful tonight.”

That last bit seems to do the trick, his smug grin emerging and the upset look fading on his face. Music starts again, another song to sway to, and he pulls me close again. I allow him to lead me all across the dance floor, my dress swirling each time we turn.

“Aislynn,” he says, his voice a whisper again. I pull my head back slightly to look at him, waiting for his response. But instead of saying anything, Sebastian seizes the opportunity to crash his lips onto mine.

Jerking my head away with a gasp, I stare at him wide eyed. “What are you doing?” I say, glancing around at the few heads that have turned towards us. “It’s fine,” Sebastian says, “I don’t care if they see us.” As he moves his head closer again, I force myself to break away from his embrace.

“I care!” I all but yelled. “I don’t want people to see, I don’t want to do that!”

The last statement almost seems to slap him across the face, but I don’t care. I stand there, a good foot or two in between us, and glare at him. I turn my head to where Ominis had been sitting, but find him gone. Looking around, I don’t see him anywhere.

Turning my attention back to the boy in front of me, I give him one final look of anger before leaving him during the middle of the song. Picking up my skirts, I stomp out of the room and into the hallway. I head towards the one place I think that Ominis could be, the one place we got to for solitude and relaxation.

The door to the Undercroft opens with a creak, potentially alerting anyone inside that someone is there. I step into the room, and sure enough he is there waiting to be found.

Ominous is seated at the piano, no noise coming out of it. He doesn’t turn his head or even lift it when I walk in, despite the sound of my heeled shoes giving me away. I stand, watching him stay still, and open my mouth to speak.

But he beats me to it. “You need not check up on me. It’s not fair to Sebastian that you left him to see me.”

“I do not want to be with Sebastian right now,” I say, the words feeling truthful and coming out confidently. At this statement, Ominous lifts his head and angles it towards me. “He is your date tonight, is he not?”

There is this feeling inside me, drawn out by the question he asks me, and things seem to build up inside and erupt like a dam in my mind. “You should have asked me,” I all but blurted out.

Now his head is facing mine entirely, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. “We were not speaking until a few weeks ago, and he had asked you by…”

“Last year, then. You should have asked me last year. Why didn’t you?” I press into him, all but demanding he answer my question. Ominis sighed, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “He was going to.”

“But he didn’t.”

I watch as Ominis opens his mouth, and then shuts it again. He can’t seem to come up with a suitable response for a moment. “I know that you two are in love, and that is why I have distanced myself.”

It takes everything in my power not to laugh at his statement. “In love?” I scoff. “I am not in love with Sebastian, I can assure you.”

Ominis’ eyebrows knit themselves in confusion. “I don’t… he- he wrote to me, and…” The words seem to stumble out, not making any real sense to me. “I don’t even know what to believe anymore, from either of you.”

“If Sebastian has told you otherwise, it’s a lie.” The words sounded harsh coming out of my mouth, but they needed to be said. “I am not in love with him.”

“I- I have put my feelings aside for a long time, Aislynn. You need not spare them now,” he says, choking out the words. He almost seems like he is trying to convince himself that what I say is false, that I am the one who is lying to him. “Sebastian loves you.”

“What do I care about that if I don’t love him?” I scoff, my words cold. I watch as Ominis tries to compose himself, his mind clearly racing from the conversation. He is running a hand through his hair, making it lose its normally perfect shape.

“But he loves you… don’t you get it?” he finally breathes out, expression crazed as he pants. I shake my head, picking my skirt up. His denial, his belief that he must sacrifice for Sebastian, it’s too much for me.

“Believe what you want. But I am down here with you right now, and he is alone upstairs,” I say, my voice low and calculated. I don’t give him a chance to respond as I hoist my skirt up and march out of the room, not allowing myself a moment of regret until I am halfway down the hallway on my way back to my dorm.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinkmas (2)- Naughty Or Nice?

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary-  Whilst being blindfolded and tied up, your girlfriends ask you whether you think you deserve to be on the naughty list. Naively, you say no, only to fall into their trap...

Word Count- 4K

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Smut, Threesome, Dom WandaNat/Sub Reader, Blindfolds, Restraints, Safe words, Choking, Punishments, Edging, Orgasm Delay, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Degrading, Oral Sex, Strap-Ons, Begging, Praise Kink, Brief Fluff

Kinkmas Masterlist

Darkness surrounded your vision as you knelt on the bed, a black silk tie wrapped securely around your eyes and a red one wrapped around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. You had been left to wait on the bed for your girlfriends to return, the few minutes feeling like hours as your knees pressed into the soft mattress under you, your chest rising and falling with laboured breaths as you tried to control your excitement and anticipation, ears intensely listening out for any sign of them.

With how long they took, arousal pooled between your legs, thighs slick with wetness as you fantasised about what they would do to you, what you wanted them to do to you all night long.

You imagined their fingers, their mouths, fuck even their straps filling you up in multiple positions, hands roaming your skin while filthy words gracefully spilled from their lips, the thought causing you to squeeze your legs together to help alleviate the intolerable heat in your lower abdomen.

The feeling of the bed dipping from both sides surprised you, too lost in your lustful thoughts to hear them approaching, your head naturally turning towards where the noises were coming from. A hand placed itself against your jaw, fingers splayed across the underside of it, guiding your face forwards as a body pressed into your back, your breath hitching at the feeling of bare skin pressing against yours, the sensation engraved into your mind as their touch sent butterflies swarming throughout you.

The fingers at your face softly caressed your skin as your lips parted to let out a shaky breath, the two women smirking at your submissive form all tied up for them to play with.

"Hey Detka," Wanda softly murmurs out, her thumbs moving to brush over your cheek, her eyes raking over your bare body, her smirk growing a little at the sight of your legs pressed tightly together, chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. "Colour?" she asks, letting her thumb move to brush over your lip, dragging your bottom one down before releasing it, Natasha moving her hands to glide around your body, snaking around your lower abdomen and pulling you slightly closer to her body, her hot breath tickling the side of your neck as her lips ghost your skin.

"Green," you sigh out in a barely audible whisper, scared to speak any louder as your heart drums against your chest, waiting for them to touch you.

"Good girl," Natasha praises in a sultry tone, a small affected noise escaping you as you feel her hands slide up your body, teasingly and purposely not reaching high enough to cup your breasts before moving down to your thighs, her hands resting on them as her mouth moves to your ear, teeth nibbling on your earlobe momentarily, a soft sigh leaving her lips to tease you further. "Have you been naughty or nice recently, Krasotka?" she asks with a hint of playfulness to her tone, her emerald eyes meeting the darkening green opposite her as Wanda watches amused at how sensitive to her touch you already seem to be, breath hitching when the witch's hand travels lower, resting on the base of your neck and keeping you facing forwards.

Wanda notices the small smile that plays on your lips at Natasha's festive words, entertained and excited at her sexual undertone to it as you carefully choose your answer.

"Nice," you whisper out, a gasp leaving you at the warm feeling of Natasha's mouth placing a lewd kiss to your neck and Wanda's hand applying a little more pressure to your neck.

"Speak up Detka," Wanda reminds you, knowing exactly what you said and wanting you to fall for the trap.

"Nice," you repeat a little louder, "I've been good," you add, tilting your head marginally to the side to accommodate more of Natasha's arousing kisses, the feeling of her tongue swiping over your skin addictive, her teeth occasionally grazing you making your thighs press harder against each other.

At your answer, you miss the way both of their smirks turn predatory, dominance swirling in their eyes as Wanda merely bites her lip in excitement. Oh they were going to ruin you.

"Is that so Detka?" Wanda purrs out, her tone containing hints of danger as arousal floods through you, the soft tone from early gone as power radiates off of her. "I'm not sure that's true," she says, prompting you to think again about your answer, the recent events flickering through your mind.

Fuck.

Stark's Christmas Party.

"That's it," Wanda mutters, hearing your thoughts. "Stark's Party."

"I-"

"Apologies aren't going to get you anywhere Krasotka," Natasha husks out, using her hands to part your thighs, fingers teasingly stroking the skin of your inner thighs, feeling your arousal that's coated them. "You wanted a reaction out of us, acting like such a brat, but we didn't give you one, did we?"

"No," you say, voice wavering as all you can focus on is her hands so close to where you desperately need her, body aching for their touch, yearning for pleasure to course through you.

"What did we do instead?" Wanda asks, relishing in your nervous but aroused form, entranced by the way your body practically buzzes with anticipation.

Your mind flickers back to the night, remembering how you tried your best to get a reaction out of them by disobeying a few of their rules for the night, purposely pushing their buttons, wanting them to snap and fuck you roughly, make you scream their names all night long and show you that you belonged to them. Instead, they were soft with you, they gave you everything you wanted and didn't once tease or edge you, your mind now only realising it was a trick to make you think you had gotten away with it without punishment.

"You... You gave me everything I wanted, everything I asked for," you say, both of them smiling as they sense your moment of realisation, a low chuckle escaping Natasha.

"That's right," she murmurs, pressing one last kiss to your neck before replacing Wanda's hand at your throat, turning your head so that your lips were millimetres away from hers, making you want to chase them. "Now, I think Wanda and I are owed a punishment, don't you?"

You nod in response, not sure you could form words right now as you could imagine her smug smile and Wanda's eyes watching you attentively, admiring your reaction to Natasha's words.

"Words Detka," Wanda says, replacing Natasha's hands between your legs, nails scratching your skin softly, leaving faint red marks in their trails.

"Yes, I deserve to be punished," you're tone nothing but submissive, laced with desperation as your mind fogged with delirium at every scorching touch.

"Good girl," Wanda whispers, Natasha's lips brushing your own, a whimper leaving you as you couldn't stand anymore teasing, your body needing them to touch you. "Don't even think about coming until we say so," her accent wrapping around her words sultrily, adding a low rasp that has you whining in response, the redhead's lips claiming yours to silence you.

Natasha's mouth was warm, wet and addictive, her lips perfectly moving against yours in a lewd and sinful manner, stealing your breath away as her tongue slid into your mouth, effortlessly dominating the kiss. While your lips messily met the redhead's over and over again, Wanda moved her fingers to meet your dripping core, gently sliding the tip of her digits over your sensitive folds, a moan escaping you that was swallowed by the redhead's relentless mouth.

"Spread your legs for Wanda," Natasha pants against your lips, one hand resting on your neck, the other sliding down and patting your thigh, motioning for you to separate them further.

"Wider," Wanda encourages, a low curse leaving you as Natasha's hand ventures back up your body, cupping your breast firmly, earning a groan in response while Wanda drags the pad of her finger up your core to circle your clit at a torturous pace, her hand grabbing your chin and directing you away from Natasha's lips to her own.

Her kisses are sensual and soft as sighs escape her and you, her finger gliding back down your wet sex to your entrance, sliding her finger in effortlessly to cause a pleasurable buzz to flow throughout your body.

"Fuck," you moan against her lips, Wanda swallowing each and every sound out of you, her kisses turning hungry as your hips rocked against her hand, hands forming fists behind your back. "Please," you whimper as her touch wasn't enough and she knew that, Wanda continuing to slowly thrust her finger in and out of your soaking cunt, curling it at your sweet spot to hear you groan desperately into her mouth, her eyes meeting Natasha's who was currently marking your neck.

The redhead's hands continued to tease your chest, pinching and pulling on your nipples to have your back arch closer into Wanda's body, the witch's free hand moving to slide across your cheek, fingers tangling in your hair, keeping your head in place as your hips rolled against her, struggling to kiss her back at the way your head was spinning.

"Please," Wanda mocks, tone condescending and sending a flood of arousal through you, a pathetic whimper escaping you as her fingers tighten in your locks briefly. "So desperate... You're just a slut for us to ruin, aren't you?"

"Yes," you sigh out immediately, her sliding another figure into you, stretching out beautifully while Natasha bites down softly on your neck, ensuring you knew you were theirs. "Your slut," you pant out, trying to chase Wanda's lips as she pulled back, admiring the scene of you and Natasha in front of her.

"Ours," Natasha murmurs against your skin, Wanda smirking at the redhead who moves her kisses up along your neck, then along your jaw till her mouth reaches your ear, letting out a small moan at the way you whine.

You wish you could see the state of yourself right now, body marked by the redhead's mouth, hips rocking unabashedly against Wanda's hand as you chase your release, the muscles in her forearm flexing slightly as she fingers you expertly, giving you enough to have you on edge but not enough to fall over and crash into you release.

"Wanda," you moan out and she knows just by your tone what you're asking for, the heat in your lower abdomen unbearable as her fingers curl inside you, sparking pleasure and euphoria as you desperately need more to come all over her hand.

Speeding up her actions a little, you were naïve enough to think she had taken mercy on you, giving you that little bit more that you craved as your mouth parted, unable to control the string of moans escaping you at the feeling of teetering on the edge.

"Shit, Just like that, Plea-No, no, please," your sighs of pleasure turn to begging as her fingers slide out of you, hips bucking against the air as she edges you, a cruel but loving smile on her face as your hands struggle behind your back, wanting to reach out to her body and pull her back.

"That's one," Natasha whispers into your ear, a displeased noise leaving you as you lean back against her body, frustration flowing through you at being denied. Her fingers then move to your hands, untying the red silk binding your wrists, her fingers deftly massaging where the tie was before instructing you. "Hands and knees Krasotka," she murmurs before kissing your cheek, Wanda guiding you into position as you still couldn't see, her hands guiding you to settle in a position where you could eat her out while Natasha was behind you, the spy currently putting on the harness, ready to fill you up.

Fingers threaded through your hair as your arms locked around Wanda's thighs, her hands guiding you closer to her core, not letting you please her yet, too busy admiring the sight of you obediently letting them use you.

"Fuck Detka," Wanda moans when she finally lets you swipe your tongue through her dripping folds, a moan escaping you at her heavenly taste. Her hips immediately bucked up, teasing you having turned her on immensely, arousal coating your mouth as you kissed her wet core repeatedly, addicted and starved of her. The sinful noises leaving her lips only fuelled your desire to please her and taste her come dripping onto your tongue.

A broken moan escaped you when you felt Natasha drag the tip of the strap on across your folds, teasing your entrance as she slowly thrusted it in, letting you adjust to the large toy.

"Come on Detka, you can do better than this," Wanda teases you as your mouth rests at her inner thigh, hot breath fanning across her skin as you try to function with the feeling of Natasha slowly pulling the toy out and thrusting back in, nothing but pleasure filling your mind.

"Keep going Krasotka," Natasha reminds you as your mouth returns to Wanda, her head lolling back against the mattress, showing off her sharp jawline to Natasha as she picks up the pace of her hips, snapping the toy into you and revelling in the moans leaving you both.

"Just like that, good girl," Wanda praises, fingers guiding your head to where she wants you as your tongue swipes over her clit, swirling over it in a way that causes her back to arch off the bed, pleasure and arousal building between her thighs. Her words encourage you, mouth wrapping softly around her sensitive sex and sucking, her hips bucking against your face as a guttural noise leaves her, a similar one leaving you as Natasha's hands move to grip your hips, her thrusts more powerful as she pounds the toy into you.

"Nat," you pant out against Wanda's core, the witch groaning at the sound of you moaning the other woman's name while between her legs, her hips grinding against your tongue as you flatten it for her, too busy focussing on the toy being buried deep inside you.

"You can take it," the redhead pants, watching as your greedy cunt swallows the toy up, your arousal glistening in the dim light of the room, a loud moan from Wanda gaining the redhead's attention.

Her free hand moves to her chest, hips fucking your face as you let her use you however she wants, arousal practically coating your chin while she chases her high.

"Fuck, don't stop," she groans out, fingers holding your head still as you continue doing what you were doing, letting her fall over the edge with a guttural moan, her back arching further off the bed as her legs trembled and closed briefly around your head, pleasure filling her. You listened to every soft pant that left her, every hitch of her breath as you didn't stop your actions, moving your tongue around her slowly to begin with before thrusting it into her, moaning at the taste of her cum and the feeling of Natasha sliding a hand around your body, her finger working on your clit perfectly.

Your hips pushed back against hers as she kept up her merciless pace, your own release building within you swiftly as the toy reached deeper inside you, hitting all of your sweet spots at the same time.

"You're taking me so well Krasotka," she praises, causing you to whimper into Wanda's core, earning a lewd noise from her as you try your best to continue eating her out, pleasure and the desire to come clouding your mind.

"Nat, I- Fuck, Please," you plead, hands gripping Wanda's thighs a little tighter as you move your tongue to lap at her clit, switching to a slower pace as you were struggling to think straight with the redhead pounding into you.

"Hold it," she rasps out, tone laced with dominance as you whimper and whine, legs trembling making her hand support your body, Wanda's hands moving to interlock with yours, comforting you as you try to delay your orgasm.

"I can't," you're tone desperate as you move your head to rest against Wanda's thigh, her fingers soothingly scratching your scalp as she can hear your thoughts and the concentration of trying to obey Natasha, needing to please them both and be their good girl.

When another desperate and pathetic whimper leaves you, signalling how close you were to coming, Natasha pulls the toy out of you, her hands holding your body as your legs tremble at being denied again, another frustrated noise leaving you. Your head rests against Wanda's thigh as you whine, hips pushing back into the redhead's body in search of friction, her hands gliding up and down your body as you eventually calm down, Wanda's fingers still tangled in your hair.

"That's two," Wanda murmurs, pulling you away from her soft skin and admiring your dishevelled state; hair ruffled, lips kiss swollen, the blindfold loosely tied around your eyes as you look where she guides you. At the small noise that leaves you, Wanda's eyes meet Natasha's and they silently agree on ending your punishment, taking mercy on you, the both of them having edged you at least once and teasing you beyond madness. "I'm so proud of you Detka, good girl for taking your punishment so well," Wanda softly whispers while guiding you away from her legs, Natasha moving so she was laying down, waiting for the two of you.

Wanda kisses your lips softly, her hands guiding you into a new position, straddling the redhead as she moans at the taste of herself on your tongue, reluctantly parting from your mouth when Natasha wants a turn with you.

"Our good girl," Natasha husks out, breath fanning your lips as she brushes hers against yours, smiling against you while she pulls back marginally, your body naturally leaning forwards to chase them, hands searching for her shoulders. "What do you want, Krasotka?" Her tone a hum as her kisses travel along your jaw, her fingers gliding up your back slowly, eventually sliding through your hair and untying the blindfold, unravelling the tie and letting you see the two of them.

Your eyes blink as you adjust to not seeing darkness, the dim light helping you not be shocked at how bright the room was, the two sets of green eyes gazing at you immediately catching your attention.

"Please let me come," you beg and you don't care anymore at how desperate you sound, how needy you must seem as your eyes plead them to finally give you the pleasure of your release.

Wanda responds by moving her hand to cup your cheek, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss while Natasha moves her hands to your hips, lifting you up slightly so she could slide the toy back inside you, a broken noise being ripped from the back of your throat, the sound muffled by the witch's mouth as her tongue slides against yours messily.

Natasha's hands caress the curve of your hips affectionately as she lets you rock your hips against the toy, your body already moving a little frantically, your hands using the redhead as support.

"Show me how much you want it, Detka," Wanda pants against you, lips parting in a gasp as one of her hands move to your throat, eyes peering into yours with nothing but lust and desire as you whimper, pleasure building swiftly in your lower abdomen.

"Fuck," is all you can sigh out, hips increasing your pace as you roll them, the toy buried deep inside you making your eyes flutter close at the pleasure that shoots through you, nails digging into Natasha's shoulders.

You hear her hiss a little at the dull pain, her hips thrusting up into you as one of her hands move to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and gripping on your roots softly. Your eyes eventually flutter open, a wave of arousal flooding through you at the sight of the two of them making out, your hips stuttering against the redhead's lap.

Natasha's mouth opened to welcome Wanda's tongue, the witch letting out a sinful sound as she slid her tongue against the spy's, messily locking their lips as they put on a show for you, lewd sounds escaping them both. You almost come at the sight of the string of saliva that connects their lips, the two of them connecting their lips again before it breaks off, addicted to each other.

"Nat," Wanda groans, her accent becoming more prominent as you watch them eventually pull away from each other's lips, eyes overflowing with lust as they turn their gazes to you when you whimper, a smirk gracing both of their faces.

"Are you close Krasotka?" Natasha rasps out, leaning forwards to crash ghost her lips against yours, one of her fingers sliding between your bodies to find your clit, Wanda's hand tightening at your throat as she busies herself kissing the redhead's neck, teeth grazing the creamy skin.

"So close," you whisper, resting your head against hers as your hips rock frantically against her, the base of the toy brushing her clit making her moan quietly while you chase your high, pushing her towards her own.

Your hands travel further down her toned back, a groan leaving you as you feel her muscles twitch under your touch, red marks being left by your nails at the pleasure coursing through you, the redhead unable to stop the small sighs leaving her as her orgasm approaches. Her arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer and helping you with your hips as your rhythm falters, legs starting to tremble as you teeter on the edge of your desired release, her head dropping to rest against your shoulder.

"Come with me," she pants against your bare skin, her hips stuttering up into you as your body tenses on top of her. Your moans become unrestricted as your release crashes through you powerfully, body buzzing with satisfaction as you clench around the toy, obeying her words as you come all over the strap, vision blurring with pleasure.

Soft pants and gentle breaths filled the room as you relaxed against Wanda's body at your side, Natasha resting against you as you both recovered, Wanda's fingers threading through your hair in a comforting manner, you mirroring the action with Natasha. The redhead's hands slide up and down your back in a loving caress, warmth fluttering in your chest as your eyes flutter open, meeting her softening green as she pulls away from your shoulder.

Your lips break out into a tender, awkward smile as you lift your hips off of her, letting her remove the harness before joining the two of you back on the bed, arms enveloping you in an embrace as Wanda sandwiches you between them, smiles playing on all of your lips.

"We're so proud of you," Wanda murmurs against your temple, kissing your skin and lingering against the top of your head, nose brushing your hair as you relax against them, Natasha's fingers tracing random patterns against your hip bone.

"So proud," Natasha adds, your cheeks tinting pink at their praise, face moving to hide at Wanda's neck, a soft laugh leaving the witch at your flustered state.

"Stop," you mutter shyly, making them both chuckle adorningly, Wanda's fingers scratching your scalp in an affectionate manner while Natasha kisses your shoulder, smiling against your skin at the domestic moment, the three of you savouring the tranquil atmosphere.

"I love you," you whisper to the both of them after a while, feeling your powerful release catch up on you, exhaustion creeping up on you as their warm bodies surround you.

"We love you too," Wanda murmurs, kissing your temple once more as your eyes eventually flutter close, body drifting off to sleep as the two of them smile at each other knowingly.

It was only a couple days till Christmas...

Only a couple more days till they could ask you to be their wife. 

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem|| Chapter 1

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|

Paring: OT7! x Fem!Reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one to talk to but the cows and pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stumble upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn

unedited*

At dawn, the roosters began to crow. They were your personal alarm clock. By the afternoon, you would have the Vegetables plowed and all the pigs fed. Emerald garden, full of color, would be watered. After all the chores were done, you could spend time on your hobbies. Painting, writing, cooking.

You truly kept yourself busy. But it became boring at times, lonely.

Emerald manor, your beloved home, was built for a family. With a large living room, a generous dining room, and too many bedrooms, it could be overwhelming for you. You liked to think about how you could fill this space, getting married, having a family. But you quickly realized that those things don’t come easy. Tired of the loneliness, you thought about adopting a pet. Maybe a dog to help with the farm?

And one day while you're cleaning the chicken coop you spot a fox about to pounce on one of the chickens.

“Hey!” you exclaim. “Get out of here!”

The fox stopped in its tracks and peered over at you, giving an intimidating glare. Then you realized, that wasn’t a fox.

It’s a person.

“Wait!” you attempted to come closer, but with each step forward, the fox went two steps backward. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

The fox seemed dubious, cautiously stepping towards you. “F-food, please.” His voice was raspy, sore.

You immediately ran to get some food, coming back to the coop with some leftovers. Maybe this will suffice, you thought. You sat him down on the grass patch next to the chicken's den. You watched him devour the meal, as if he hadn’t eaten anything in weeks. Based on his appearance, he probably hadn’t. His fur coat was dirty and torn. You could see his ribs and his belly rumbled with each bite. “Sorry, miss”, he whispered.

You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I’m Y/n. May I ask your name?”

You could tell he was nervous. Something about your presence made him anxious and fearful. Is he like this with everyone?

“H-Hoseok”, the fox uttered. “But I can’t stay long. My pack is waiting for me.” With a slight struggle, he stumbles back on his two feet. You grab him before he takes off.

“Please wait”, you politely asked. “Let me give you some food to take back to them. Don’t leave yet.”

He paused for a moment, seeming to be pondering over his next steps. “Okay”, he spoke softly. “But don’t be long. They may worry.”

With that, you hurry back into your home, running to the fridge to see what you can scrap up. Hopefully I have enough for all of them, you thought. Maybe you can give them a couple of chickens from the coop.

While carrying plastic wrap covered plates to your garden, you hear a scream coming from the coop. That must be Hoseok. Without haste, you ran to the chicken coops, the food left for the birds. Hovering over Hoseok was what looked like a wolf– well half wolf.

“Back away from him!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, trying to scare off the scary hybrid. He ignored you completely. Suddenly, you gain the courage to step up to it, pushing it off of the fox.

“Are you okay?” You helped him back on his feet, feeling the trembles in his hands. “Did he hurt you?”

“N-no, he would never hurt me”, He stuttered. “You don’t understand.” You looked at him confusingly, then looked at the wolf. He was fuming with anger.

“Y/n, this is my packmate, Joon.”

***

You’re not sure how feeding one hybrid led to having seven hybrids on your couch, but you have no one to blame but yourself.

“You want us to do what?!”

“Live here?” It was really just a random thought that popped in your head. You didn’t give it any thought. And seeing them dirty and hungry on your couch just made you blurt it out. Hoseok seemed thrilled but his Pack alpha, Joon, wasn't too excited.

“You must be out of your mind”, he laughed. “What do you think we are, pets?”

“No, not at all!” You shook your head. Something in the back of your mind tells you that they’ve been burned before, that they’ve been mistreated. You feel sort of sympathetic. Could they not trust anyone? “You guys don’t even have to stay here long. I just want to treat your wounds and offer some food.”

He still seemed doubtful. “Yeah? And what’s in it for you?”

That's the question he's been dying to ask. What about you? You thought about it for a moment. Wouldn’t any human being want to help out someone in need? The answer to that is no. However, maybe they need some good in their lives.

And you could use the company.

“Well, I kind of live here by myself”, You explain. “My parents moved to the city so I don’t see them often, and I don’t have any other family or friends. If I’m being honest, I really just need someone to converse with. And maybe a little help around the house.”

One of the packmates raised his hand, as if asking permission to speak. “We left the other home we were in. They may still be looking for us. We don’t want to put you in any danger.”

“We can figure all that out later”, you promise him. “Right now, you guys just need to wash up and get a proper rest.”

Hoseok turned to Joon, waiting for his response. “Please, Joon. We’ll be good, I promise.”

He glared at you for a second, trying to sense if this was another trap. Maybe she’s genuine, he thought. “Okay, but we won’t stay for long.” You could hear sighs of relief. Even you let out a puff of air, not realizing you were holding your breath.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for trusting me. I know that’s not easy.” You gave them a tour of Emerald farm, showing them their sleeping quarters and where they can wash up. When evening came around, you prepared a feast. Your hybrid guests gobbled down all they could– except Joon. He didn’t eat, probably from fear of being poisoned. Hopefully, one day he’ll trust me, you thought. But for now, all you can do is show them tender care and affection until they believe it.

When it becomes time for everyone to sleep in their rooms, you're left alone in the living room with our thoughts. Maybe some television will clear your mind. You never really use it. Living on a farm left you with plenty of other things to do, but why not? Turning on the television, you flip through the channels until one catches your attention.

Breaking news! Seven dangerous hybrids escaping from a research facility

*Taglist open!

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Five | Main Masterlist

Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.

Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.

“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”

“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.

Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.

“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”

“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”

“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”

“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”

Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”

Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.

The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.

The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.

“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”

Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”

Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”

Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.

Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.

Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”

For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”

Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”

Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.

JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?

He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.

You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉

Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.

“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.

Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.

Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.

Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.

You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.

“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”

“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”

“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.

He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.

“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”

Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.

With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.

After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.

Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.

“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.

You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.

“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.

“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”

Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.

Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.

When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.

With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?

“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”

“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.

The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”

She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.

“Would you be upset if I was?”

Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.

“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”

Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”

Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”

You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”

The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.

The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.

The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.

The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.

Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.

“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”

“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.

A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.

By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.

Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”

He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.

“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.

Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.

The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.

Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”

“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”

You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”

Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.

Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.

“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.

“You.”

There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.

His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.

Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.

Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.

“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”

“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.

Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981 @marirxse

[underdark-dreams]

This fic will explore the fanon of Tiefling rut/heat cycles: specifically, what happens when a stressed, overworked, sexually pent-up wizard is confronted with his own biology and his feelings about a certain hero all at once?

Thank you @rolansrighthorn for kindly beta reading this chapter!

Rolan x afab!Tav

Birds and Bees - Ch.1

The new Master of Ramazith's Tower hasn't been feeling well. Rolan isn't quite sure what's wrong with himself, but when Tav arrives back in Baldur's Gate, things get much worse.

Tags: Tiefling Ruts, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.4k [Read on AO3]

Rolan awoke feeling sick as a dog. 

He pulled his legs over the edge of the mattress with a wince. The dull ache in his muscles was something he hadn't felt since those first weeks on the road out of Elturel.

He'd slept like hells the past few days; no doubt that was the cause. Once again, bizarre nightmares had left him gasping awake before dawn, covered in a clammy sheen of perspiration.

The dreams featuring Tav, however…

Rolan’s tail shuddered and flicked over the bedsheets behind him at the memory. He pushed those thoughts forcefully from his head. Tav was due back in Baldur’s Gate today—that was the last thing he should be thinking of when she arrived at Sorcerous Sundries.

She’d been away for over a week this time, gathering her materials in the Underdark. He wondered if that meant she'd have enough work to keep her in the city for longer, too. The thought encouraged him enough to rise and dress for the day. He should make sure her alchemy station was prepped and ready for her at the back of the shop, at least. 

Down on the main floor of Sorcerous Sundries, Rolan’s improved mood was instantly tested. Cal took in his face wide-eyed.

“You look awful.”

“And good morning to you,” Rolan responded irritably.

“Is it?” Cal trailed after him as he unlocked and threw open the wide front doors. “Rolan, maybe you need a day off. You look like you barely slept.”

“I'm fine,” Rolan said, voice firm. “Where’s Lia?”

Right as the words left him, a teacup appeared at his elbow.

“Had a feeling you might need it,” Lia told him. “Looks like I was right.”

Too tired to combat both his siblings at once this early in the day, Rolan accepted the tea with a begrudging sigh of thanks. The smell of bitter herbs hit his nose before he took the first sip.

“Doctoring me with folk remedies now?”

Lia waved a dismissive hand as she moved behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you'd rather get fussed over by Tav. Can't have you dragging your tail and embarrassing us in front of her, though.”

Cal walked off with a snort.

Rolan shut his eyes and wished he could return straight back to bed. Instead, he drank his tea down in silence and said a prayer for an easy day of work.

He did find himself perking up after a while. It was difficult to stay sullen on such a glorious spring day; clear sunlight streamed generously through the high windows above, and the flow of customers milling into the shop settled into a pleasant, familiar hum. Rolan fell into the rhythm of assisting them here and there, locating scrolls and giving advice on spellwork.

It certainly wasn’t the prospect of seeing Tav again that was improving his mood so much. That’s what Rolan kept telling himself, at least.

Another breeze drifted in through the open atrium behind him, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring wildflowers. Rolan was taken with a sudden fancy to move closer to wherever it emanated from.

“Lovely morning, isn't it?”

Tav stood beaming at him from the doorway, despite the full-to-bursting pack slung over one of her shoulders. Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the irresistibly nice weather.

“It rather is,” Rolan agreed. Ignoring her usual protests, he unshouldered the bag from her with a tug; its weight made him question whether she’d stuffed it entirely with minerals.

“Ugh…thanks.” Tav stretched her arms back appreciatively. She was wearing a lightweight tunic, carelessly laced, and the motion strained the fabric over her chest. 

Rolan averted his gaze, feeling rather warm all of a sudden. He instead led Tav back to her workstation near the stairs.

“Looks busy in here,” she remarked with approval. “Business good?”

“Can’t complain. I take it your travels were as successful?” He punctuated the comment by landing her pack on the desk with a heavy thump. Tav laughed.

“Brilliant, actually. I've got a lot to show you, if you can spare the time.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” he answered, turning back to her.

Tav didn’t reply right away; she was frowning at his face. “Rolan, are you ill? You look flushed—” And she reached a hand as if to feel his forehead.

“Of course not,” Rolan answered, a bit too swiftly. Casting for an excuse to create some distance, he moved to the nearby reference shelves and began shoving the mess of books back into their correct cubbies. “Cal, could you grab another stack of the beginner’s Weave series? We’ve sold through.”

Cal looked up from his work rolling scroll pages. “Er, sure…which wing is that again?”

“Nevermind,” Rolan sighed. “I’ll get them myself. Let me know if your station’s missing any supplies,” he added to Tav, letting his voice soften a bit. It earned him a dimpling smile.

Rolan strode away from her toward the portal, feeling that annoying ache in his legs return as he did.

—

Tav watched Rolan’s figure trudge up the staircase with another twinge of concern. Then she set to work connecting all the equipment on her alchemy station. Lia appeared at her side before long, asking after her week’s travels in the Underdark and catching her up on news and gossip from the Gate. It was so nice to have friends like Lia; ones you could pick up right where you left off with.

Tav had emptied her bag onto her desk and begun sorting the small mountain of herbs into separate piles as she listened. “How’s Rolan been doing with everything, really?”

Lia was turning over one of her shards of laculite, idly catching the sunlight in its facets. “Mostly happy. And stressed, and overextended. And completely neurotic about organizing every shelf in the library. You know, typical wizard stuff.”

“I just hope he’s looking after himself,” she said down to her work. The words left her mouth easier than she wished.

Lia leaned a hip against her desk with arms crossed. “You sound interested in helping with that.”

The quake in Tav’s stomach made her feel very caught out, then very stupid. She let out an exhale of laughter instead.

“Rolan’s made it pretty clear that he is not,” she replied. Her fingers began stripping the blooms from her pile of dried mugwort with more force than strictly necessary.

“Between you and me,” Lia mused, “I don’t think Rolan’s anywhere near clear on that subject. Smart people can be real idiots, you know.”

“Who can?”

Rolan was headed from the staircase with an armful of books; he stood behind Lia with a suspicious look. Tav immediately wondered how much he’d heard.

“Rich people,” Lia answered at once, still leaning casually against Tav’s desk. “Lady Whitburn’s handmaid keeps coming in asking for spell scrolls that I’m pretty sure don’t exist. You think she’d get the picture by now.”

Rolan let out a long-suffering sigh and held out the stack of volumes to her. “Take these. And just send Cal to help her next time, that’s why she keeps coming back.”

Lia threw up a hand as if that only proved her point. “Like I said, idiots.” But with one last glance at Tav, she grabbed the books and ferried them away to the front of Sorcerous Sundries.

For her part, Tav resumed the work of preparing the week’s ingredients—there were several large batches of antidote to get through this morning. Rolan took up his usual spot at the desk in her periphery. 

Ever since the first week he’d offered Sorcerous Sundries to her as a home of operations for her alchemy, Tav found herself spending many hours at work beside Rolan like this. They spent the time talking about her travels, or his latest studies with the Weave, or just discussing the last books they’d read. On busier days, he was called away to help customers for most of her visit.

Today, however, Rolan stood unusually silent next to her.

“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She glanced at his back, again noting the tense line of his shoulders.

“Just a bit tired.” Rolan tipped open his massive record of the shop figures. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I could make you something for that, if you like.”

He gave a low huff of laughter as he took up his quill. “From what I hear from my customers, I’d be out cold for days.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help a grin of professional pride, but focused on adjusting the flame under her distilling glass. “Glad they’re selling well.”

“I can barely keep them on the shelves, especially those remedial draughts you make. The last batch lasted three days.”

Though it was satisfying to hear, Tav felt a bit chagrined. “Damn…won’t have more of those for a while. I still need to track down a new materials trader in the Gate. My usual guy moved on to Neverwinter.”

There was a short pause in their little corner, filled only with the sounds of softly bubbling liquid against glass.

“You know,” Rolan said without turning, “you’re welcome to stay here, if it’s easier for you. The guest room’s always empty. That is, so you wouldn’t have to travel across the city on top of finding your new contact.”

“Oh—” Tav tried hard not to read anything into his offer. “Actually, I already left my things with Danis and Bex. But thank you, Rolan,” she added.

Rolan coughed lightly, back still turned. “Of course.” 

There was another pause, longer and strangely awkward. Tav suddenly found she needed something more to occupy her thoughts than watching a flask boil. Reaching down for her pack, she pulled her research journal up to the desk.

It had been many weeks since Rolan brought up that subject. Why now?

Cal and Lia constantly reminded her of the long-standing offer of a room in the Tower anytime she had need of it. For unspoken reasons, she’d always found polite ways of declining.

It wasn’t that Rolan had made her feel unwelcome in any way. After all, he’d opened up the expansive resources of Ramazith’s Tower to her use, lending her all of the delicate and expensive alchemy equipment that she’d never be able to cart back and forth in her travels. She owed much of her current success to his generosity.

But Rolan had proven himself a generous patron for all kinds of arcane arts as Master of Ramazith’s Tower. Really, what made her think she was any kind of special case?

The fact that she’d very much like to be that to him…well.

That was something Tav tried not to think about. It only led her to dangerous territory, such as staring at his hands while he worked a spell and wondering what else they might be good for. Hardly conducive to a friendly, professional relationship. 

And if she was any good at reading signals, friendly but professional was how Rolan wanted to keep things.

Tav shuffled through her notes a bit too briskly and almost scattered them. That was enough dwelling on that subject; clearly, Rolan had plenty to think about without worrying about unwanted advances in his own home. The least she could do to repay his generosity would be to continue respecting his boundaries.

“Noblestalk propagation?”

She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, Rolan had moved closer to peer down at the top page in her hands with curiosity.

“Most valuable thing in the Underdark,” she told him. “Even more than mithril. Actually, this is what I wanted to show you—”

Noblestalk fetched a high price for its alchemical power, certainly, but also for its rarity. The delicate mushrooms were notoriously picky about where they grew; it was part of what made them so hard to find. 

Truth be told, she’d been running a little experiment on them down in the Underdark over the past few months. She ran a finger across the charted results as she explained them to Rolan, whose tension seemed to vanish as he listened on with keen interest.

“Obviously the spores took faster in high humidity. But look, they actually did better when I transplanted them in a really cold spot near the river here—which is so odd, most fungi need a bit of warmth—

“Have you tried recreating these artificially? Carrying a sample back to the surface?”

“Not yet.” She scratched her chin in thought. “I’d need to find somewhere underground to propagate it. And I’d rather not spend any more time in the sewers, after that little cult business.”

“Just do it here,” Rolan dismissed, as if it was the plainly obvious solution. “We’ve got quite a few empty vaults now. Shouldn’t be too hard to repurpose one as a greenhouse of sorts.”

As she turned her head to respond, she was caught up short. 

Rolan was still peering intently at her writing. But in his concentration, he’d angled his body very close beside her. His chest nearly brushed her shoulder. She could’ve counted the freckles dusting his nose.

When he reached forward to flip over the page, she felt his other hand actually rest on the far side of her waist—the absent way you might touch someone very familiar to you when moving past them. Heat rose in her cheeks at the gesture.

Perhaps Rolan felt her tense. He blinked, and she watched realization dart over his features. He stepped back at once.

“Apologies.” Then he cleared his throat to add—“Your work is quite engaging.”

Coming from him, the words sounded much nicer than they had a right to. She felt her flush deepening, and quickly turned back to reorder her notes. 

“Thanks,” she laughed, praying it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt rising in her throat.

Behind her back, she heard Rolan return to his desk on her left. Presumably continuing his work on the Sundries inventory; more likely trying to ignore her obvious fluster. 

She clenched her jaw in an attempt to shove that same stupid, fluttery feeling out of her stomach, and returned to the practical work at hand. 

—

Rolan stared down at last week’s sales in his ledger. The figures were a blur of meaningless scribbles in front of his eyes.

Was he feverish? Seriously ill? There had to be a sound explanation for the way he’d just…laid hands on her like that, unthinking. 

He clenched the guilty right hand responsible, feeling its sharp nails press crescent moons into his palm. Idiot. He took a deep breath to regain his composure. 

It only caused that lovely wildflower scent from before to fill his lungs more completely, pulling at his other senses. Perhaps it was emanating from one of the many strange ingredients Tav was always carrying back from the Underdark. Was that what had muddled his mind this way?

He found himself glancing back over his shoulder to where she was bent over her alchemy scales. The pink tip of her tongue was visible between her teeth, a gesture she often made when concentrating.

As Rolan watched, a lock of her hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She swept it absently back behind her ear. The innocuous motion caused another wave of something floral to brush past his face, stronger this time.

“Are you wearing scent?”

Tav glanced up from the powder she was weighing out, brows raised in question. “What?”

“Nothing,” Rolan said swiftly, shaking himself back to rights a bit. He felt very lucky she seemed to have misheard. He turned back to his work before he could say anything else strange or embarrassing.

With effort, Rolan forced his attention back to the comforting logic of sums and figures. 

The time passed with blessed uneventfulness after that. The soft sounds of glassware and bubbling liquids from Tav’s alchemy faded to an idle lull at the back of Rolan’s consciousness. Nevertheless, he pushed through the past month’s numbers with more difficulty than usual, scratching through multiple errors as his quill moved over the page. He occasionally had to pause to rub at an uncomfortable crick building in his neck.

A laugh came from behind him. “Do you mind?”

Rolan raised his head to look. Tav was gesturing at the corner of her alchemy station with a bemused expression. 

To his own confusion, he found that his tail had traveled there of its own accord sometime in the past minutes. It lay coiled on the wood, its tip flicking back and forth in her direction, as if seeking her attention.

With another chuckle, Tav’s fingers closed around it and lightly dropped the appendage off the edge of her desk.

An involuntary sound caught in Rolan’s throat. The moment her hand connected with his skin, a shock of blood rushed to his groin. He nearly tipped forward in alarm at the feeling.

The rapid redirection left his legs wobbling and bloodless. His knees almost buckled under him; he gripped sharp claws into the edge of his wooden desk to steady himself. 

As the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Tav reading under her breath behind him while she ground something against her mortar. Praise the gods that whatever just happened to his body had escaped her notice.

“Need a book from the library—”

Without a backward glance, Rolan stumbled toward the stairs.

Spurred on by the knowledge that any customers who might notice his urgent departure would certainly see the reason for it, he strode on double-time for the portal. Only once the swirl of Weave closed behind him, depositing him in the quiet of the Tower, did he release the breath caught up in his lungs.

Seeking to ground himself, Rolan glanced up to watch the golden dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. It was the strangest sensation to be standing completely still and feel a sweat break out over his brow.

How did he not realize days ago? Muscle aches—difficulty sleeping—heightened senses. All clear indicators that his biology had finally caught up with him, albeit a solid year later than it should have.

Rolan gripped a hand to the back of his head with a groan of realization. Not perfume—it had been Tav herself he kept catching scent of this morning. That sweet smell that practically made his mouth water to recall now was nothing but raw instinct laid bare.

Well, he had no right to complain about the timing. Apparently many frantic months of escaping the Hells, surviving on the road, and battling back an invasion from the Astral Plane had done a lot to delay the inevitable. 

But inevitable it was, and as of today, very much inescapable. There was never really a convenient time for this sort of thing, was there?

It could be worse—as the new keeper of Ramazith’s Tower, at least he found himself with private quarters to retreat to for the entirety of it. If he was lucky, it would all be over in a week, and then he could go on ignoring this unfortunate side effect of his Infernal heritage for a few more uneventful years. 

Lia and Cal could manage the shop for a week without any major calamities, surely?

As Rolan paced the silk carpets of the Tower floor, he forced his feverish mind to finish scrabbling together the plan. His gaze fell on the desk by the window. In the next second, he was putting shaking quill to parchment. Something simple, just enough they’d understand—

Bad week for visitors. Please mind the Sundries while I recover. Tell Tav 

The tip of his quill skipped as he paused, letting a droplet of ink bleed into the page. 

Tell Tav what, exactly? That he was in his room rutting his brains out like an animal in heat? Likely thinking of her while he did?

That line of thought brought a series of unhelpful and very stimulating images to mind. He swallowed down a humiliating sound as the stiffness between his legs grew painfully hard in reaction. Merciful, bloody hells.

Tell Tav nothing, he finished in a scrawl. Rolan folded the note and deposited it on the floor just in front of the portal, where it would be impossible for his siblings to miss. 

Then he turned for the staircase to his bedroom, already mad to rip these chafing gods-damned robes off his skin.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 1)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Prologue, Part 2

summary: After the breakup, you move into a new place.

warnings: no warnings! cheeky bit of angst at the end

a/n: this is me admitting that realistically, miguel would be sick of our shit.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here <3

wc: 4.2k

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

or in the cold, crisp morn:

"These are the keys," Your new landlord hands you the copies, clinking against each other as you transfer them to a dish by the door. Your first thought is that there seem to be too many for this modest apartment: of varying shapes and sizes, and at least half a dozen. He steps through a wide archway to the kitchen, eerily clean. It's not modern by any means,  the top half of a hulking brownstone some time away from college.

It’s been… a trying summer. Moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend had seemed like a great idea at the time. Younger you (barely 2 years ago) had been enamoured with the promises of city life: fast-paced, bustling, and never a dull day. Naivete and big ideas that you'd been too stupid, or maybe too desperate, to let go of. After being locked in a loop of the same 3 or 4 places, the same dozen faces - in a place as big as this, mind you - maybe your ex-boyfriend had freed you. Forced you from that halfway-home; as cold and empty as it had become; and back out into the world. 

The reality was less than ideal - apartment hopping across the city for the past 4 months or so. You’d seen it all: glorified shoeboxes, fancy duplexes, viewing sublet rooms that were at least a little illegal. A box within a box within a box; coat closets rented out for double your monthly take home; and you had just about given up.

So this place seemed like a godsend: a brownstone, tucked away. Its interior is dated, but gorgeous. It had character: quirks and rich history in the brick and mortar. A fireplace tucked into the corner, window alcoves, wood panelling. Yes, the wallpaper was slightly warped with damp  but it’s affordable - a reasonably priced gem that had made you jump when you saw the ad. With the overexposed and pixelated images, they didn’t do it justice.

You pad into the kitchen, running your hands on the smooth countertops. They’re bare and spotless - suspiciously so. Not many personal items, no fridge magnets, photos; nary a blanket on the sofa or half eaten plate of toast on the worktop. It’s so clean it feels staged, and it makes you squint. Isn’t there meant to be…

“I let Miguel know… he must’ve cleaned up the place-”

“Miguel?”

“The other tenant.” He pauses, boots clicking on the grain of the floorboard. “I don’t think he’ll be back until later tonight. Should give you some time to settle in.” 

Nodding, you give him a small smile, and he steps out of the apartment. Your apartment.

~~~

You fill the rest of day with unpacking, putting some life into the place. You’d visited not long ago, fantasising about how you’d decorate. Something about sharing an apartment with your boyfriend for the past 2 years had done something to you: flattening and squeezing into a space not built with you in mind. How Jamie didn't like things on the walls, or how he needed the space for his textbooks, so why don't you find somewhere else to put your little stories? If his desk took up half the front room, then that makes sense, he needs it for work. But God forbid you needed a quiet space to study; what if the guest bedroom has your shit everywhere when his friends come over? A million compromises that didn't seem much like compromises: you'd give an inch and he'd take a mile. And so, the space to spread your wings without knocking over a gaudy plaque or two was very much appreciated. 

You want to walk around the neighbourhood, map out the convenience stores, bodegas, community hotspots and hubs. Where's the best place to get a drink? The cheapest meal? Your usual haunts were a fair distance away, so maybe you'll make the trek and pick up waffles from Pam's, as a treat. Tired already, you slump on the sofa - a tattered old thing that can clearly take a beating. Looking around the place, something settles solidly at your chest. Contentment, maybe, a strange feeling considering the past few months. This will do, you think. This will do. 

Perhaps it's not a very feminist thought, but you're not thriving . Thriving felt presumptuous, and yet coping seemed too complete a word - its implication too tidy, too neat. A mess, before; better, now…? And it didn't quite span the width and depth of the past few months; how long it had taken for the numbness to make way to anger, hot and intense - its flame fueling many a long night. And yet, maybe coping was just the way to describe your foray into this new chapter: a new year, new apartment, and whatever that brings. You had forgotten what it felt like to be alone; not lonely, but with only your own self for company. Without the ache of another person, for the first time in a while. 

…except, you had a roommate. Which you had known when signing the lease, of course, but it's taken some time to sink in. What that means for you - a new person to tiptoe around and appease - you're not too sure yet. What is he like? He's out late, so maybe a chronic partygoer - sloppy drunk and vivacious, the life of the party. He might clatter into the apartment, chattering and bubbly. What do you know about him? From the apartment, as is, it doesn't tell you much. At first glance, it had looked too clean, but not unreasonably so if he had anticipated your arrival. No, it was the lack of personal effects that confused you. How long has he been living here and there aren't any pictures or knick knacks? To clutter is to be human, you think. And with the front room as blank as it is, you wonder just what kind of man he is. 

It's getting late. Naturally, you do some snooping, lazily padding around in search of life. Onwards and upwards, to new frontiers: the cupboards and drawers in your new apartment. 

He likes coffee, you learn. There's a fancy machine on the kitchen counter, glossy and shiny and clearly taken care of. Little packets of beans and filters line the cupboards, all with names you can't quite pronounce. The fridge is similarly well-stocked, with none of the junk food you've gotten accustomed to in the past few months. Its innards are leafy green and plush; labelled tupperware with leftovers notwithstanding. All the spices in a tray above the oven and fancy knives on the wall tell you he likes to cook, or rather, he likes to eat well. The lack of junk would take some getting used to - maybe he's a health nut? The type to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, to blend oddly coloured smoothies, and "reflect" after a long day of… dog walking or something. 

You move on to the living room, running a light hand over the deep walnut of a side table behind the sofa. Again, it's oddly bare. When you tug at the drawers, it's brassy handles are solid. Locked. Kneeling, you run a hand across the larger cupboard door at its base. You pull at it, and it pops open with a click. Inside, it seems empty, save for a dusty box nestled in the back corner. With your top half almost completely inside its depths, you move it into the light. 

It's old, a battered shoebox adorned with coloured sharpie - shaky drawings of flowers blossoming from its sides. The cardboard crackles when you open it. It's full of junk, mostly: half-dead pens, broken crayons, dried flowers, and little plastic toys - the kind you get from cereal boxes and happy meals. And, there's something peeking out. Confused, you dig a little deeper, to uncover a pair of… soccer cleats? They're tiny, clearly for a kid but seem barely worn, with minimal scuffing on the plastic blades. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" A voice from above rumbles, and your head snaps up like a rubber band. You hadn't noticed the door open, and you are met face to face with, who you assume to be, your roommate. 

He doesn't shout: tall, broad, and back straight by the door. He's got a backpack slung over his shoulder, dressed in a crisp white shirt and slacks. His name was… Miguel? Miguel crosses his arms, brows furrowed in quiet rage. Fuck. 

"I was just looking for.. uhh…" 

You know how it looks. It's the worst time for your brain to go blank, and you're left holding the hypothetical bag. You stand up a little too quickly, and smack your knee on the lip of the table. Half of the box spills onto the floor and you dart downwards, embarrassed. 

" Shit. Sorry, let me-" 

He leaps towards the floor, and you're forced behind him, as he scrambles to put everything in its place. You start to help and he stops, stock-still. As if in slow motion, his head turns to the side and he gives you a look that could kill thousands. Retreating, you shrink back, only able to watch helplessly. 

" Chica tonta... ¿se crió en un rancho? ¿qué clase de persona entra en casa de alguien y toca todas sus cosas?" He's muttering something under his breath - too fast and not saying anything you can understand. Pausing, he throws you a look. "...y luego me ve como si yo fuera el que está mal- ojos grandes y bonitos como de perrito pateado...oh dios mío.-" 

[silly little girl… was she raised in a barn? what kind of person walks into someone's house and touches all of their stuff? // and she looks at me like I'm the one in the wrong - big, pretty eyes like a kicked puppy… oh my god-] 

He's gentle with the box, the way he puts it in its place contrasting his mood a couple of seconds before. He closes up the door and you stumble to your feet. In the glow of halogen bulbs, he follows, arms crossed like a mother hen. 

"I think… I think I'm your new roommate?" You say your name and  stretch out a hand, but Miguel doesn't move. You watch as his eyes sweep over your body, shameless. 

"Are you asking, or telling me?" He sighs, pinching at his temples. 

"...Telling?" You offer him a weak smile, and he cracks.

Softening, ever so slightly, he grumbles. "I know. I know. Mr Estévez said you would be in tomorrow, though."

"I like to be early." 

"Right. Well… don't do that. Again, I mean." He clears his throat. "Don't touch my shit either. It's too… fuck , it's too late for this. I'm going to bed."

He kicks off his shoes, and all you can do is watch as he saunters off; the door to his room shutting with a resounding slam .

~~~

His name is Miguel O'Hara - not that he told you that, or anything. He hasn't spoken to you much at all, leaving you to figure out who he is and what he does from vague clues around the apartment. You don't go snooping , learning quickly from previous mistakes; but his full name on a letter slotted through the mail was fair game, you think. The most you've gotten out of him were grunts and frustrated requests to keep to your shelf in the fridge. 

Passive-aggressive wasn't in his vocabulary, you’re convinced. A plethora of dirty looks in his arsenal? Sure. Plenty of vulgar swears in Spanish? Absolutely. Miguel was not, however, passive-aggressive. Just… aggressive. Not angry, of course. Upfront. Abhorred any passivity and indolence: umm-ing and ahh-ing for the sake of it. 

So naturally , you were sent to kill him. 

You tiptoe around the apartment, avoiding him at all costs. At first, it wasn’t on purpose, just the awkwardness of your first meeting bleeding into the next week. But you dodge and weave like an expert boxer -  particularly impressive in the small space. Miguel’s in the kitchen? Suddenly, you’re not very hungry. He’s curled up on the couch for a movie? Wow, look at the time: and you're heading to bed. You can’t read him very well, and don’t trust yourself enough to look him in the eye without fear of melting under his gaze. The few short interactions you have, you crumble; a brush against his shoulder in the kitchen, or legs against his on the dining table. Not that Miguel offers a peace branch, pursing his lips when you’d make eye contact, somewhat frustrated at your theatrics. Call it cliche: you’re avoiding confrontation at all costs. It manifests itself in peculiar ways: the Shower Incident being the most memorable. 

The Shower Incident, aptly named, happened not too long ago. The apartment is old , as you soon learnt, coming with its own plethora of quirks. What you had first taken as character and charm - window seats and wood panelling - also came in the form of a building half falling apart. Creaky floorboards, leaky pipes, and a distinct lack of central heating. The discounted price, that had seemed like a bargain before, clearly lacked some creature comforts… like heating. And a working shower. 

As you’d been in a rush, you clattered into the bathroom; stripping in no time at all. Bare feet on the tile, and you turn the knobs at the base of the shower unit. You’re not going to pretend you know how it works, just yet, but… it’s not rocket science, is it? The brassy spout sputters; but with no luck. Groaning from the pipes makes you jump, before huffing in frustration. This is not the time; late to yet another 9.00am? You want to be different this year: organised, put together, and on time to your lectures. On your tiptoes, you peer down the shower head hesitantly, like it’s the barrel of a loaded gun. With cruel irony, it sputters to life, sending a face-full of ice-cold water your way.There’s a scream, as you scramble at the handles, scurrying out of its brunt; desperately trying to turn it off. 

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel leaps out of his room towards the shouting, with a fumble and clunk of his feet on wooden floor. He’s quick , hand hovering on the bathroom door before you can register it; his voice echoing outside. 

“Are you…” There’s scuffling, which you can just about hear over the pounding of the water against tiles. “Are you okay, in there?”

You wince, stepping out of the shower – legs shaky like a baby deer – as you gurgle. “...Yeah?”

“Can I –” He clears his throat. “Are you.. clothed ? Can I come in?”

You scramble for something to cover yourself, settling for a plush towel on the rack. Wrapping yourself up, you brace yourself for the grimace that's sure to be on his face. Tentatively, you crack the door open. There Miguel is, face knitted with worry. 

There's a flash of confusion at the scene, and then, what you think is relief. Relief you haven't cracked your head open, most likely: the blood would be hard to clean from the grout. You feel guilty, as you've probably broken it, or touched something you shouldn't. The shower is still on; sputtering, starting, and it becomes a strange sort of background music to your silent exchange. 

"I don't know how to use the shower." You say with a small voice, guiltily. 

" No me digas…" No shit, he mutters, face back to the furrowed brow you're starting to become more familiar with. He sighs, easing up. "You hurt?" 

You shake your head, and swear you see a small smile on his face. You looked like a waterboarded rat, probably: big watery eyes and shaking with the sudden cold. 

A mess , he thinks. But not a bad view. 

He's still in workout clothes from his morning run, compression shirt and lazy shorts that hug his ass on; as he turns towards the shower. With some sense of shame, you try not to stare, to not watch the muscles of his back and arms flex as he angles the shower head away from his face. It's not enough that you've embarrassed yourself – twice, in the space of a couple of days – but the fact it was in front of your roommate, who is maybe the most beautiful person you've seen up close. Which, granted, narrows the field; but Miguel is gorgeous, a flash of pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates, wide palms toggling the dial. 

"You need to be careful… push it in slightly when you turn the-" You crane your head towards his movements. "Come closer, or you won't see what I'm doing."

You move towards him, half naked and shivering, trying not to buckle with the heat of his body next to yours. This is what you get for not having spoken to a man since your ex: a tight coil at the base of your stomach for someone that you've done nothing but unwittingly terrorise for the past week.  

He explains, patient and even-tempered; how to use the shower and you half-zone out to the low tone of his voice. There's no malice, or pomp in his words when there are a million things he could make fun of you for - that Jamie may have made fun of you for. You look up, at the sharp lines of his face, and chew at your lip, deep in thought. 

"...and this side is for hot water. Next time, just ask me – instead of almost drowning."

You nod, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"...For what?" He says, softly. "Place is falling apart, anyway. It's not really your fault." You're convinced everything you touch in this house breaks, but with the way he looks at you, you believe him. 

"Just ask me, next time." He echoes and makes for the door, stopping to drag his eyes up and down your frame. Oh… oh. You like that, the way he looks at you shamelessly, practically undressing you. 

He smiles, amused at your deer-in-headlights expression. 

"...I think that's mine."

He nods to the towel wrapped around your body and your eyes bulge out of their sockets. " Fuck , I didn't realise-" 

He shrugs, noncommittal. 

"...Seems like you need it more than me, anyways."

~~~

It's a rough first couple of days, and then a week, and then two. The rhythm is all off: like the jerky stop and start of an old car. He wakes up early to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, and you stay up late to finish papers and assignments. He has a job, you think, darting out at the same time once or twice a week in smart clothing and a backpack. Sometimes, you catch him hunched over a laptop or scribbling something in a beat up old notebook. Maybe, he’s a student - even if he doesn’t seem quite like the fresh-faced 19 year olds you see around campus. Although, you suppose it’s not implausible; you were one of the older people in your classes, after all. It’s hard to imagine O’Hara, stony-faced and serious, at a… dorm party, or something. To be that carefree, he’d need to get rid of that stick up his ass, first.

You’ve got a day off from lectures, using the time to catch up on the reading you should’ve done over a hectic break. The list seems to go on and on, already, this early into the year. Internally, you’ve made a promise to be on top of it all - the little hiccup with Jamie, notwithstanding. You’d knuckle down this morning, reading ( scanning) and summarising ( liberal use of the copy-paste function) in preparation for the rest of the semester. Miguel’s locked up in his room, somewhere, so you use the opportunity to spread out onto the dining table.

There’s a knock at the door that makes you look up from the muddle of words on your screen.

When you open the door, there’s a woman there with a notebook in hand. She’s pretty, in a classic sort of way, ginger braids cropped to her shoulders and lips slathered with gloss. Her outfit is relaxed, but carefully curated: a tight jumper and long brown legs stretching out from a black skirt. 

“Hi.” She says, visibly keening. It’s clear she wasn’t expecting you, but she quickly recovers and gives you a blinding smile. 

“...Hi,” Honestly, you’re a little confused. You haven’t seen her around the complex before; so who she was, you hadn’t a clue. Too pretty to be a door-to-door salesman, and too hot to try to convert you to Mormonism, you think. Whatever that means.

You wait expectantly, as a beat passes. 

“Oh!” She laughs, and it sounds like puppies and rainbows, much too bright and airy considering the time of day. It makes her next words even more of a shock. “I’m looking for Miguel.”

With her last words, she steps a little closer; scanning the apartment from her vantage point. Something in you bubbles up, but you try to choke down the laughter. 

“You’re looking for...Miguel?” Even out of your own mouth, it sounds absurd . The man had no friends, as far as you could tell. He seemed like the type to lock himself away in his enclosure, only stepping out for work, school, the bare minimum. In the short week that’s passed, his ‘enrichment time’ had consisted of a dry documentary on spider mating cycles - which had been a shock to walk into, the first time. 

So someone here, at the apartment? Looking for him? Fidgeting, you scratch at your neck. “Uhh, I ca-”

“Sorry about that, Jia. You can have a seat.” His voice comes from behind you, and Jia breezes into the apartment, perching on the sofa. Legs crossed, she reaches into her bag, taking out a laptop and a pen and paper. He’s changed out of his workout clothes, donned in a loose white sweater and casual trousers - relaxed, for once. With a limp thud, you close the door. There’s an odd feeling as you look around at the scene: tension, and you feel like you’re interrupting. Miguel clatters around in the kitchen, fumbling for mugs and coffee filters and God knows what else.

“...was it two sugars, or three?”

“Three!” She throws over her shoulder, tapping away at her open laptop. “I like it sweet, Miguel.”

You squint. He laughs : a small chuckle that comes with a heat at the base of your stomach. Your head almost aches, trying to recalibrate; reconcile with the version of the person you’ve barely seen around the apartment to now - present, engaged, and personable. Exasperated is the only word for it. Miguel O’Hara was, in fact, capable of joy. Dickhead.

He barely acknowledges you, but Jia does; batting her wispy eyelashes in your direction, curious. The tapping stops, and she curls the corner of her mouth up with a hint of a smile. 

“You gonna introduce me?” She calls out to Miguel, and then smiles to you; warm and genuine. It makes you feel a little more at ease. You catch the end of a sigh coming from the kitchen.

“Jia, this is my roommate.” He glances up to gesture towards you. “...this is Jia. I… help her out with work, sometimes.”

From the couch, she rolls her eyes. “He’s too modest. He’s my tutor, technically.”

With that, your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything you’d imagined him doing, tutoring students wasn’t one of them - especially considering he seemed barely out of college himself.

“...Technically?” 

“He doesn’t like to advertise it, because he’s picky with his clientele.” She giggles and he scoffs. You get the feeling there’s a joke flying over your head, just out of reach. “Word gets out on campus that Miguel’s tutoring again…”

“ Vale, vale ,” He grumbles, but his tone is good-natured and light. “S’enough, Jia.”

She gives you a wink, before turning towards her work.

You walk towards your things, still on the dining table. He’s got his head buried in a kitchen cabinet and you look on, wanting to ask a lot of things. The words seem to die in your throat: too big, too small, not the right shape. She's a stranger; that knows where the coffee’s kept and the best spot on the couch. That makes Miguel laugh . You want to ask him about the stranger in your home; but you’re too scared he’d turn and point the finger at you.

He walks to the couch, balancing two cups of coffee. You look back. Next to him, her presence is an oddity - a blip in his carefully crafted universe. With the warm sheen of familiarity, she nudges his shoulder. Taking careful sips, he pointedly ignores her, tapping a finger at her screen - as if to say, pay attention. She smiles, wide; an asteroid across the depths of space, dazzling and brilliant in the night sky. 

The exchange… it makes you think. If Miguel is the Sun, and Jia, a bright body in orbit: what’s your place in this four-walled cosmos? Where do you belong? 

_

_

_

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

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[distantdarlings]

BY THE FIREPLACE (PT. 4) // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.3K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested* In an attempt to forget about the events of the last few days, you try to relax yourself as best you can. You pull a book and some tea down to the common room but are shocked to see that Theo had the same idea.

+ WARNINGS - Language, sensuality (described in mind), nothing else really

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

affection - BETWEEN FRIENDS

*sorry for the short chapter

- - -

You awoke early the next morning. Much earlier than normal. The small clock sat on the desk beside your bed barely had its big hand brushing the four. There was little to no light outside. You pulled your hand to your face to rub some of the sleep out of your eyes.

The only sounds around you were the occasional soft snores from your roommates and a deep rumbling in your stomach. Shit. You must have fallen asleep last night without eating anything. You raised your arms above your head and coaxed a few cracks out of your spine before slipping out of bed. The green, fur-lined slippers lay right beside the head of your bed, waiting patiently for you to sleep your feet in.

You were no longer tired and didn’t feel like laying in bed until classes started, trying to urge yourself back to sleep. You figured you could catch up on some personal reading and have a mug of tea.

Beneath your bed, was a small wicker basket your mother had made for you on your eleventh birthday. It was intricately woven with two pastel ribbons secured on either handle. You loved it dearly and it had held many things as you grew up. At the moment, it held a large assortment of teas and a small kettle that you could hang over the fire in the common room. You knelt down and retrieved the items, deciding on a nice rose and lavender blend.

You gathered the things together, slipped the book you were currently reading into your arms, and made for the common room. At 4 o’clock in the morning, where the sun was not even up, you were expecting few students, if any, to be occupying the room. You were hoping for none.

The common room was always pleasantly splashed in moonlight around this time of the morning. Its cool rays showed through the water just outside the windows and bathed everything in the whiteness. Everything except for the warm fire in the middle of the room. You waltzed over to one of the plush couches, not seeing anyone else around—thank Merlin.

Wandlessly, you conjured some water, watching as it filled your small kettle. You hang it on the fireplace hanger and collapse into the couch, propping your book open. It had been over a day since you’d last read—some fiction about a knight’s journey dealing with the PTSD of his position—and you wondered if you even remembered what had happened the last few chapters. Your eyes found the small words on the page and let yourself fall into the story.

After a few minutes, the kettle began to whistle. You marked your place in the book and tossed it to the cushion beside you. You wanted to get the kettle off the flame before it started screaming and waking up the whole Slytherin house.

You wrapped your hands in your night robe and slipped the kettle away from the fire. With a whispered incantation, your favorite mug from under your bed appeared on the side table. You poured the steaming water into it and watched as the steam poured over the lip of the cup, its billowing moisture brushing against your bare legs.

Once you’d allowed the tea to steep and it had cooled, you became comfortable once again, leaning against the edge of the couch’s arm, sipping your tea every once in a while. It really was a good book. You’d almost found yourself forgetting about the ridiculous events of yesterday.

Until….you sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, a pair of legs appear coming down the stairs to the male dormitory, then a chest, then a face. A particularly difficult pair of eyes met yours. You all but groaned and rolled your eyes. You could not believe it.

“Hey,” he said, a small chuckle coming out of his mouth. It was awkward and the silence that followed it was somehow worse.

“Uh, hey?” You knew he was just talking to you now because he felt just as weird as you did—at least, that’s what you assumed. Before, he never went out of his way to acknowledge you, now…

No one spoke for at least a minute, the both of you just stared at one another, briefly found the other’s eyes, then quickly glanced away again.

“Well don’t let me interrupt you, I was just passing through,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of the plaid pajama pants he was wearing. Your eyes followed him as he began to walk towards one of the bookcases in the corner. He wore a black tank top that showed off his muscular arms beautifully. Your line of vision traced the thick vein that wrapped around his arm, curled down his wrist, and disappeared with his hands in his pants pocket. The pajama pants sat low on his waist and framed the sharp edge of his hip bones. You watched closely as he contemplated the options on the shelves before him.

His eyes caught something interesting. He raised up on his tip toes and lifted his arm to grab it. The tank top slid up his stomach, revealing the strong line of muscle that traveled from below his ribs and down to what lay beneath his waistband. The band of his undergarments traveled briefly over his hips. Fuck. He looked absolutely edible.

You shake that thought off and turn your head back to your book, forcing yourself to focus on the words before you. Surely, this was a normal feeling. It was just natural hormones forcing you to look for a mate. This was simply Mother Nature taking its course. Completely ordinary.

But Merlin, the way he had looked at you when he’d come down the stairs. His eyes, so dark and wanting, glancing over you in your too-big night robe and your ratty shorts. You felt like the most desirable thing in the world with the way he looked at you. Maybe you were just imagining it, but he looked as though he wanted to devour every inch of you.

Your fingers scraped over the book’s pages, letting the light scratch of the parchment control your thoughts. Intrusive ones that you indulged for just a moment before realizing what a weakness it was. Ones that gripped your hips and bit your chest and traced your thighs.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” His voice appeared behind you suddenly. You jumped at his abruptness.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, Nott, take a seat wherever you’d like,” you sighed, trying once again to refocus yourself. But as he traveled over to the love seat at the far end of the rug probably no more than ten feet from you, you couldn’t help but glance up over the pages every so often.

You watched as he made himself comfortable, legs spread wide open with one ankle resting on the other knee, one hand against the arm of the chair propping his head up, the book balanced against his raised leg, and a strong arm coming up every once and a while to flip the page. As he launched himself further into the story, he began to fidget a bit. His thumb and forefinger pinching his bottom lip, the knot in his throat sliding up and down as he swallowed, his hips readjusting themselves, sliding them slowly against the cushion and—

You slammed your book shut. You couldn’t live like this. You were just going to force yourself back to bed. At the sudden sound, Theo’s eyes shot up in a worried glance.

“You okay?” he asked. You began to gather your things, tucking your now-cooled kettle under your arm. When he realized what you were doing, his book dropped to the cushion beside him and he stood abruptly. You stopped and the two of you watched each other, waiting for the other to speak. His eyes were slightly widened and he was breathing a bit heavier than usual. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly. Neither one of you moved.

“You know I’m—” “I’m sorry if—”

You both began talking and stopped at the same time. Theo dropped his head and you glanced away, finding the stained glass windows particularly interesting.

“You go first,” he says. You sigh.

“I was just going to say that I’m going to go back to bed,” you explained, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh,” he says, sounding particularly dejected. Or maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t tell what you were and weren’t imagining the last few hours.

“What were you going to say?” you ask.

His eyes glanced around the room. His fists opened and closed, flexing the tendons that ran gracefully along his forearm.

“I was going to say I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the whole…,”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you brush it off, “let’s not make it more than it is, okay?”

“No, yeah, I didn’t mean to,” he quickly says. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His eyes find yours and for a second you feel your heart liquefying, melting and rushing down your ribs, sliding across your stomach and legs. Your eyes hold and it feels as though neither of you can look away. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears and echoing against your back.

His lips open and close multiple times and the heavy breathing is back. His chest rising and falling, rising and falling. His honeyed lips pulsing with each breath. His eyes slipping down the length of your body but your vision is too shaky to even notice it. And when did you guys get closer to each other? His hand now rested delicately on the back of the couch you stood in front of. There was but an arm’s length between the two of you. You could just reach out and touch him…

“Yeah, uh…,” you interrupted, your eyes falling away from his. You broke the moment. “I’m fine. Thanks for checking in, Nott.” He chuckles.

“Do you even know my first name?” His eyes find yours once more. No, thank you. You finish gathering your things and begin to walk around the side of the couch.

“Um, I do but…you know, if we aren’t making this weird, I figure we just go back to the way we were. You not knowing I exist and me not caring that you do.” Yikes. Fucking harsh. You shake your head and start walking past him to the staircase.

His hand suddenly wraps around your arm, your skin stinging like he had electrocuted you. You jump and he pulls away quickly. He mumbles a quick apology. You brush it off swiftly. God, this was painful. You imagined your friends watching this play out and cringing so hard they passed out. Because you were on the verge of doing the same.

“Is that seriously what you think of me?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with concern. You sigh again.

“I’m sorry, that was rude, I shouldn’t have said that,” you apologize. “But before…this whole situation, we didn’t talk to each other. We went about our days, blissfully ignorant to one other.”

His eyes hit the ground. He knew it was true. The both of you knew that if this hadn’t happened, nothing would have changed between your relationship—or lack thereof.

“If you want to…you know, be friendly,” you start. His eyes raise to yours. “Come to the library with me or have lunch with me.” You felt pretty sure he wouldn’t. He had a reputation to uphold.

He and all of his friends were ‘well-known’ around Hogwarts. They were all handsome, smart, and hailing from very old, wealthy Wizarding families. Everybody liked them or wanted to be them and you knew that well. All cliches aside, you were a Half-Blood and probably none of their concern if not the subject of their bigotry.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I will do those things with you,” he shrugs. “Give me a time and place.”

You were flabbergasted. And you were sure your face was showing it painfully well. You didn’t know what to say without sounding like a fool.

You wanted to say yes. God, how you wanted to say yes…Should you? Is it even worth all of the trouble? You know if anyone sees the two of you chatting it up at lunch, rumors will fly and you’re not so sure you’re comfortable being at the center of those. Yeah, no. You’re definitely not. Say no.

“Um…alright,” you breathe, smiling nervously. “I usually eat lunch by the Black Lake and read. I’ll be there today.” Merlin, help.

“Okay,” he says, smiling. “Well, don’t be reading while we’re eating lunch together.” You laugh.

“I won’t, as long as your conversation can keep my interest.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it can.” He sends a wink your way. Embarrassingly, a bit of heat blossoms in your stomach. This was ridiculous. You weren’t thirteen. You needed to get it together.

“We’ll see.” The two of you smile and begin to slowly separate. You didn’t really understand what was going on and you half-wondered if this was even worth it simply due to the amount of teasing you were going to get from your friends. But he seemed…nice. You wanted to see what lunch was all about today. It couldn’t hurt to have a new friend.

Part 5!

[promiscuouscutie]

All Yours pt. 1

Ethan Landry x fem. Reader, reader is a little naive and Ethan’s obsessed, eventual smut

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 , Part 7

Word count: 1979

Warnings for this part: uhhh drinking under 21, murder, mentions of vomit

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

You look at yourself in the mirror in disgust. You were dripping in beer liquid, courtesy to a sorority blonde devil named Michelle. Ironically, Michelle was dressed as an angel. It was meant to represent her ‘angelic personality.’ At least that’s what she put on her instagram caption for her costume reveal post. She hated you, but you never knew why. Did she have an actual reason, or did she just want to put others down? You just wanted her to stop talking to you. You wanted her to stop trying to spread rumors about you, when she didn’t even know what she was talking about. You wanted her to stop sending you threats on social media. She never bothered making anonymous accounts. She didn’t care if you knew it was her. She thought she walked on water, that she could do no wrong.

“Angelic personality. What a joke,” You said to yourself. You dig through your purse and pull out tissues, trying to wipe some of liquid off of your skin. You sniffed your dress and gagged; you stunk of cheap beer.

Ding! You pull out your phone and read the contact name: Cason. You pressed on the notification and read the message:

I’m here, at the party. Can we talk, bunny? I really owe you an explanation.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Bunny, his nickname for you. The way he said it would make you smile, but not this time. The pet name barely made you react. Some part of you felt happy to get a text from him. He hadn’t texted you in weeks. He hadn’t spoken to you in person. Every time you tried to talk to him, he’d walk the other way.

Most of all, you felt awful. He used to flirt with you, just simple teasing and compliments during your tutor sessions. You didn’t realize his intentions right away. You just thought he was being kind. When he gave you the nickname, you thought it was a sign you were becoming close friends. You were wrong. During one of your tutoring sessions, he kissed you. You were so shocked, but you didn’t kiss him back.

He had a girlfriend. He still does, the girl you hate more than anyone. Michelle, the devil’s wife herself. You pushed him away and ended the tutoring session early.

Despite your hatred for Michelle, you didn’t want to break up a relationship. But why would he make a move? You didn’t understand that part, but maybe he’d explain himself. Maybe he could explain why Michelle spread the rumor that you made the move on him, knowing that he had a girlfriend. The rumor made traction around campus, making you lose some customers for your job. People saw you as a home wrecker, a horrible girl.

You sniffled. God, don’t start crying. It’s going to be okay. Just hear him out. You took a deep breath and reply to his message:

Should we find somewhere private to talk? Maybe you could take me on a walk or something? -you

He read it immediately.

Let’s talk in an hour. Michelle’s slobbering all over me rn. -Cason

This was fine. You were going to be fine. He’d explain himself, clear everything up. He could apologize for the kiss and even try to debunk the rumor his girlfriend started. But why didn’t he in the first place? A good question, one you couldn’t answer yourself. Only Cason could, and he would. You were positive he had a good reason for it. You just couldn’t figure out what it could be.

You still smelled like beer. But who doesn’t at this party? There’s a mix of alcohol and weed in the air that’s traveled to the first and second floor of this frat house. You adjusted your sparkly, lavender wings to make them less crooked. The purple glitter on your eyes still stayed perfect, which you were relieved about.

It took forever to put it on. Your roommate Anika had to assist you with it, but she didn’t complain. She was obsessed with your costume. She thought you made the perfect fairy! Your dress was a royal purple and made of silk. It had lace on the chest, giving it a lingerie look. You had a flower crown on earlier, but it found itself on Mindy’s head halfway through the party. You didn’t mind of course; Mindy looks great with it on.

There was a knock at the door. “Yo hurry up in there!”

“Coming!” You shouted. You grabbed your purse and threw away your garbage quickly before the stranger let out another complaint. You opened the door and rushed past the random guy. You looked around the room, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd. You spot a shirtless cowboy: Chad Meeks-Martin, the frat boy and self-acclaimed feminist. He spots you from a distance and waves. “Y/N! Come have a drink!” He called out. You walk over to him and catch the beers can he throws at you. As you opened it, you spot a familiar face.

“Hey Ethan! I didn’t know you were coming,” you smiled sweetly. He smiled back at you, right before glancing at the floor awkwardly.

“It was a last minute decision,” Chad explains. He puts his arm around Ethan, pulling him close. “I managed to convince him to come hang out,” Chad added with a joking tone. Ethan rolled his eyes at his friend’s words.

“You make me sound like a hermit,” Ethan comments.

“That’s cause you are, my boy. You’re a hermit crab.”

“Don’t tease the guy! He’s just trying to have a good time,” you lightly pushed Chad’s shoulder. You took a big sip from your beer and looked around the room again. Ethan’s eyes moved down your body, fully focusing on your costume. He took notice to the fishnet stockings on your legs. He liked them. He liked them a lot. Your eyes landed on Ethan’s face, making him avoid eye contact. You caught him staring at you. You thought it was a little cute, but probably just a coincidence. After all, how could sweet, quiet, adorable Ethan look at you like that?

You felt a a shoulder hit yours hard. You watch Michelle walk past you, snickering to her friends. She had two drinks in hand, and her angel wings were practically almost falling off her body. You winced as your rubbed your shoulder as Ethan and Chad watched the blonde walk up the stairs.

“What a bitch,” Chad says bluntly.

“Yeah. Major bitch,” Ethan agrees. You were a little surprised by Ethan. You never heard him say something like that before, and his face! He was practically glaring at her as she disappeared. If looks could kill, Michelle would be dead by now. You awkwardly laugh it off, trying to move on. You reach into your purse and pull out your phone.

I ran into Michelle. I take it she’s done slobbering all over you? -you

He didn’t answer right away. It took him maybe five or six minutes to reply:

She didn’t give you any problems, did she?-Cason

Nothing too horrible. Can we talk now?-you

You watched the thinking bubble appear quickly, making you smile.

Give me a few more minutes, bunny. I’ll come find you when I’m done, okay?-Cason

You sighed in disappointment. You felt guilty for being impatient. He’s trying to have fun, just like you! You shove your phone back into your pocket and brushed your dress down.

“Let’s just keep the drinks coming, huh Chad?” You shake your beer can. Chad points at your face, grinning. “I like the way you’re thinking tonight, Y/N.” You both laugh as you chug your drinks, Ethan drinking his silently.

He watched you take drink after drink. After two more beer cans, you were cut off. Chad banned you from the fridges and coolers, but you managed to find one laying around. You just wanted to make your brain become sludge tonight. You wanted to forget your problems for just a few more hours. Fortunately for you, it was working. You found yourself wandering up the stairs, trying not step in vomit. You gag at the sight, trying to hold back any possible bile from your throat. When you made it to the top, you said “yes!” under your breath. That was your greatest accomplishment for the night.

You walk past rooms, trying to find an empty room to lock yourself in and close your eyes. You thought you found one, not seeing anyone on the bed. The music was so loud. The song Heartbeat by Childish Gambino started to play, and you dramatically sighed. “I love this song!” You grin. You shut the door behind you and throw yourself on the bed. How many hours had it been since you showed up to the party? Two? Three? Four? One? You couldn’t quite focus with the music playing in the background. You could practically feel the music’s beat inside your chest, matching your own heartbeat. You heard thumps near you, thinking it was just from the music. But you were wrong. You look to your left, seeing a tall, cloaked figure. You recognized the look immediately.

“Really? Another Ghostface? I’ve seen like two of you at this party already!” You sit up and stare up at the masked stranger. They tilt their head, staring at you. You notice the red knife in their hand and try to grab it. They move it away from you immediately, making you whine.

“Let me see it! Can’t I hold it? Just once?” You bat your eyelashes at them. To your surprise, it worked. They wiped the red liquid on their sleeve and handed the knife to you.

They still hadn’t said a single word to you. They just watched you grip the handle, swinging it around like it was a toy. You thought it was, at least. You tried to stand up, but you wobbled. The Ghostface grabbed your arms and helped you stand up straight. You looked up at the masked stranger and smiled. “Thank you, sweet thing!” Your feet feel stuck to the wooden floor, as if they were superglued down. Their grip on your arms felt stronger than before. “Can you..can you let me go please? I need to pee,” You squeak out. One of their hands lifts up and cups your face. The leather glove felt strange against your skin. You felt a fluttery feeling inside your stomach. It was a new feeling. They tuck some of your hair behind your ear, revealing one of your collarbones that hid underneath.

“Use the one downstairs. The one up here is broken,” the Ghostface spoke with a strange voice. Did they have a voice modulator? That’s pretty cool. You nodded along, as if stuck in a trance. They loosened their grip on you, finally letting you go. You reach for your purse on the bed, bending over. You felt the cold air on your upper thighs and ass as your short dress lifted up. You didn’t even think about how you could’ve been flashing this stranger. You didn’t actually think you were, but you were. They stared at the exposed skin they could see until you stood up straight again.

You turned back around to face the Ghostface. “Don’t be a lady killer, Mr. Ghostface.” You blew a kiss at them and walked out of the room, trying not to wobble or stumble again.

If you had gone into the upstairs bathroom, you would’ve found a very dead Michelle laying in the tub with her throat slit. But you didn’t. You believed the Ghostface, naively and foolishly.

Who knew how much of a problem this would be in the future?

Not you, but Ghostface would. Ethan would.

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction Masterlist

Ao3 Link - Latest Update (March 4) - Chapter Thirty-Three

⚔️ Updates every Thursday ⚔️ Character Descriptions World Map ot8 x reader Stray Kids Fantasy!AU 18+ MDNI Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Swordfighting, Magic, Eventual Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Romance, Adventure, Fighting, High Fantast, Slow Burn, Extremely Slow Burn, Plot Heavy

Summary:

“No.” Your voice was stern, your eyes didn’t even look up from the plate in front of you. A healthy helping of roasted potatoes being pushed around by the metal fork in your hand.

“I am offering you a hefty sum of gold,” the man’s voice pleaded with you.

“I am well aware of the amount you offer, but you must think me mad to go anywhere near Miroh.”

“Thrice the amount, then.”

You paused.

Swallowing your mouthful of food, you placed your fork back on the table; tonguing your cheek and shifting on your seat.

Individually, you cracked each knuckle on both hands, your mind reeling.

“Explain the job to me once more.”

Chapter One - Thrice The Amount Chapter Two - Stained Glass Window Chapter Three - Red and Gold Throw Pillows Chapter Four - Sword Sparks Chapter Five - Careful, Merchant Chapter Six - Aye, My Lord Chapter Seven - Decree Chapter Eight - Twenty Laps Chapter Nine - Clear Your Plate Chapter Ten - By First Light Chapter Eleven - Permitted to Die Chapter Twelve - Rest Chapter Thirteen - Jump Chapter Fourteen - Quite Certain Chapter Fifteen - Serendipitously Chapter Sixteen - Make it in Three Chapter Seventeen - Hang in There Chapter Eighteen - Sunshine in the Night Chapter Nineteen - Dance Lessons Chapter Twenty - While Dancing Chapter Twenty One - Mend Chapter Twenty Two - Of Course Chapter Twenty Three - Tea With Sugar Chapter Twenty Four - Dagger Chapter Twenty Five - The Gracious Host Chapter Twenty Six - The Dove Waltz Chapter Twenty Seven - Imported Cigars Chapter Twenty Eight - Use Chapter Twenty-Nine - Between Two Walls Chapter Thirty - Missed You Chapter Thirty-One - Bonfire Chapter Thirty-Two - Music of the World Chapter Thirty-Three - Stay Here

[mattslolita]

psycho killer - c. sturniolo ( 001. )

in which ... a killer is terrorizing the town of boston and charmaine soon realizes she's the final girl in his twisted game.

ghostface!chris x black!fem oc

warnings ; blood , gore , death , eventual smut , angst , ghostface!chris , final girl! oc

"𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆!"

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

in the comfort of charmaine's home, she sat on one of the bar stools at the end of the small kitchen table — her best friends, morgan maldonado and madison filipowicz were both with her, but occupied with separate things; morgan was on the phone with who charmaine assumed was her boyfriend ( unless she felt like cheating on him ), and madison was busy making popcorn for the film they were going to watch.

"hey char, what happened to that cheesy popcorn you always have?" madison asked, as she searched the girl's fridge, "there's like, none left."

"i'm gonna be honest madi, i ate it all," charmaine shrugged, as she scrolled through her phone.

madison shook her head, and went back to the fridge, biting down on one nail as she continued searching. charmaine looked over at morgan, who was sprawled out on her couch, twirling her dark hair around her fingers, her face painted with a rosy tint and a smirk plastered on her face. the evans girl frowned, wondering who it was that she was even talking to.

"wow, chris is making you blush that hard?" charmaine teased quietly, and morgan rolled her eyes, waving her off.

"this isn't even chris, girl," morgan whispered to her friend with an eyeroll, "he doesn't really make me blush like this anymore, anyway."

charmaine nodded, but her jaw clenched at the thought of morgan cheating on chris — christopher sturniolo was morgan's boyfriend, who also happened to be charmaine and madison's best friend, too. he had two identical brothers aside from himself, and they were both best friends with the triplet brothers. charmaine has liked chris for as long as she can remember, and it always puzzled her as to how he chose morgan over her. of course, chris never knew this, and she didn't plan on telling him — it was something bound to break up their friendship ( though charmaine knew the triplets longer ).

the smell of butter wafted through charmaine's senses, telling her that madison had put the popcorn in the microwave. the filipowicz girl came and sat down on the counter next to charmaine, a small grin settling on her face. "which horror movie are we watching tonight?"

charmaine grinned back, having always loved that she and madison loved horror movies. "oh, it's definitely a friday the 13th kinda night."

"ugh, we always watch that one," morgan whined suddenly, as she sauntered into the kitchen, her arms crossed, "can we watch the craft or something?"

"can you stop being a hoe and sleeping with every guy who gives you attention?" charmaine sneered, causing madison to snort and hold back a laugh, and morgan to give her an unimpressed look.

"you say that like it's a bad thing," morgan suddenly grinned, causing charmaine to roll her eyes and shake her head, "it's not my fault i'm sex positive!"

"whatever you wanna call yourself, morgan," madison giggled, causing charmaine to stick her tongue out at morgan playfully.

"whatever, friday the 13th is it," morgan sighed, resting her elbows on the counter, "let's play something while we wait for the food."

"what're you thinking?" charmaine questioned, setting her phone on the counter and facing her best friend.

"truth or dare."

morgan grinned, and madison and charmaine shared a knowing look. "girl, is this an excuse for you to just tell madi to make a move with that one girl already?"

madison's cheeks tinted, and she rolled her eyes. "that's not happening, by the way!"

"ugh, fine!" morgan grunted, but she sent madison a pointed look, "you don't even have to pick dare if you don't want to!"

"whatever, let's just play," charmaine said, waving both girls off, "m, truth or dare?"

morgan pretended to tap her chin in thought, then she smirked at charmaine. "dare."

"i dare you to call that one strip joint and pretend you wanna get hired there."

madison's eyes widened and morgan's jaw dropped, causing charmaine to burst out laughing. "what the actual fuck kinda dare is that?"

"it's a good one, don't lie!" madison grinned, pointing to morgan. 

"fine, whatever, i'll do it," morgan said with an eyeroll.

before she could make a move to grab the phone though, it began ringing — the three best friends exchanged a glance with each other, before morgan shrugged and moved towards it. "this doesn't count as your dare by the way!"

"it's probably just steven again," morgan grinned, as she picked up the landline, bringing it up to her ear, "hello?"

madison sat on the counter idly, and charmaine scrolled through her own phone as morgan talked to whoever it was she was talking to ( charmaine wouldn't be surprised if it was another one of her side pieces ). but from the way morgan's eyebrows furrowed, something was off.

"who is it?" charmaine mouthed her, madison raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"i don't even know," morgan mumbled, holding the phone away from her momentarily, "it's just fucking silence."

"here, let me see," madison said, hopping off the counter and going to grab the phone from morgan, "hello?"

but madison was met with silence as well, causing all three girls to share a look with each other. finally, charmaine shrugged and walked over to the phone, taking it from madison and holding it up to her ear. "hello?"

"hello? who's this?"

charmaine's eyes widened, causing morgan and madison to watch closely. "who're you tryna get to?"

"i don't know," the voice said, and charmaine felt a chill down her spine. it sounded much too deep to be normal, but something about it was highly attractive.

"well, you better figure it out," charmaine said, "bye have a good night."

"wait, don't hang up!" the voice said, and for some reason, charmaine's eyebrows rose and she didn't, "i wanna talk to you."

"yeah, they got like, five hundred numbers for shit like that," charmaine said, shaking her head, "see ya."

charmaine hung the phone before they had a chance to reply again, and both girls looked at her curiously. "so who was it?"

"i don't even know, some weirdo saying they wanted to talk to me," charmaine shrugged, and morgan grinned at the girl.

"well it's about time somebody wants to talk to you," morgan snickered, "you need to get a man."

"morgan, shut the fuck up," madison said, crinkling her nose and slapping the girl's shoulder, "she doesn't need to get anyone. just because you fucked half the school behind chris's back, doesn't mean everyone wants to do that same thing."

morgan's jaw dropped at what madison had said — truth was, morgan was always knocking charmaine for not wanting to just get with anybody randomly. she would take a dig at her about that stuff around charmaine and all her other friends too, which really upset her, being that she was supposed to be her best friend; charmaine guessed madison just finally got tired of it.

"wow, madi, didn't know you had the capability of being mean to anyone," morgan mumbled, and charmaine snorted.

"talking about everybody all the time just pisses me off," madison shrugged, turning to give charmaine a smile, "especially when it's about my girl."

before charmaine could respond to madi, the phone rang again, much to to her disappointment. with a groan, charmaine picked up the phone once again. "hello?"

"looks like i called the wrong number again," the voice said, and this time, charmaine rolled her eyes amusedly.

"yeah, i guess you did," charmaine sighed, sitting on the counter, "why did you redial it again?"

"to hear that pretty voice," he purred, and charmaine felt her cheeks get warm.

a small smile graced her features as she began swinging her feet back and forth. madison was now in the living room on her phone, and morgan; well, she was somewhere in the house. 

"huh," charmaine said, looking around.

"what's your name?"

charmaine chuckled, holding the phone away from her and looking at it in disbelief. "no way you just asked me that, dude."

"what's wrong with asking your name, pretty girl?" he asked, and for a split second, charmaine's eyebrows furrowed — she felt like she somewhat recognized the voice.

"first of all, i've seen too many horror movies to be telling you my name like that," charmaine said, as the microwave went off, signaling the popcorn was finished, "second, why do you wanna know my name?"

"cause i wanna know who i'm looking at," he said lowly, causing charmaine to immediately jump off the counter.

"what did you just say?" she asked nervously, looking around, seeing madison still sitting on the couch. morgan was still nowhere to be found.

"i said i want to know who i'm talking to," he said humorously, causing charmaine's eyebrows to furrow once again.

"yeah, nice try, that's not what you said," charmaine said seriously, beginning to grow annoyed, "look, find someone else to be all creepy with, i'm done here. bye."

"hang on-"

"it was funny at first, but you took it too far!" charmaine said.

"don't you-!"

before he could get another word out of his mouth, charmaine clicked the line off and set the phone back on its hook with a loud sigh. madison's head snapped up, and she looked up to see charmaine with her hands on her hips.

"everything okay, char?" madison asked, making her way over to the girl, "did they ever tell you who they were?"

"no, just some asshole being creepy as fuck," charmaine admitted, rubbing her temples with both her hands. "i swear-"

the phone rang, yet again.

💌 lil

i giggled when i first wrote this ngl. lmk how y'all like it so far😏.

@muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @guccifrog @prettiest-poision @mrssturnioloo @mattsivy @mattsturniolosleftnut @e1ias3 @eyeliketoeatpoosay @breeloveschris @mayhem-72 @l0akkz @summerssover