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frantic-fiction · 8 months

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Tease 18+

(Pic: cheekylittlepupp)

Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x Tav

Summary: The party is taking the night off. You're convinced to wear a dress, and Astarion just can't control himself.

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, Semi-public sex, caught in the act?

Word Count: 3.2k

Mastarlist

Standing in front of the mirror, you pull at the dark green fabric, tugging it down this way and that. You try again to tie the corset but give up quickly. You swing your hips, and the flowy skirt swishes, tickling the skin above your knees. Looking yourself up and down, you zone in on your hips, squirming at the fabric extenuating your curves. So much skin on display makes you want to steal someone's spare cloak to hide in. You weren't one to be self-conscious, but you're used to donning armor and leather, not this scrap of fabric Karlach had convinced you to buy.

You should just change. Grab some leggings and one of Astarion's shirts, and call it a night. You didn't need a dress to catch his eye; you know how Astarion feels about you; wearing a dress won't change that. Backing away from the mirror, you're just about to rip the dress off when Karlach bursts into the room, Shadowheart following behind her at a much tamer pace.

"Soldier!" Karlach squeals, stopping suddenly in the middle of the room. She slaps her hands on either side of her face. "You. Are. Gorgeous!" Your face burns as Karlach pounces on you, spinning you around to give her the best view from every angle. Heat creeps up your chest and you giggle awkwardly.

"She's right, you look stunning," Shadowheart smirked and added, "Ten gold Astarion won't be able to keep it in his pants."

"20, he won't make it to a room," Karlach shouts.

"Gods! You both are ridiculous." You squeal, swatting Karlach's hands away and stepping back from her excitement. You huff and fix your skirt. Crossing your hands over your chests, you glare at the girls before timidly looking off to the side. "So, I don't look silly?" The hesitation is evident.

"All joking aside, I assure you, soldier, you are beautiful. And I know for a fact Fangs won't be able to keep his eyes off of you."

You beam under Karlach's compliment, doing a few excited calf raises because you have no idea how else to handle her words. Shadowheart moves towards you and fixes a fallen strand of hair. She gives you a soft smile and moves to finish lacing your corset, patting your arm when she’s done.

"Now we should go. The others are waiting downstairs," Shadowheart motions everyone to the door, letting you take a moment to slip your shoes on.

After months of endless travels and brutal battles, the party decided to take the evening to drink, relax, and enjoy each other's company. A night to forget the tadpoles and the Absolute. All except Lae'zel, who scoffed at the idea, were joining in on the fun.

Descending the stairs, you slammed with the melody of lively tunes played by a band of minstrels, competing with the animated conversations of patrons. The music, infused with the spirit of celebration, is so loud that it vibrates through the wooden beams of the tavern. The dance floor is alive with energetic movements as couples twirl and spin to the rhythm and the joyous laughter of those lost in the moment.

The bar is surrounded by a sea of drunk patrons clamoring for attention. Tankards slammed onto the worn surface as the bartender poured frothy ale and mead expertly. The dim light of flickering candles and oil lamps casts a warm glow on the diverse crowd. The unmistakable odors of stale ale, greasy food, and the tang of sweat intermingle in the air, creating a distinctive nostalgic and pungent aroma. You're lost in the crowd's movement, overwhelmed with the sounds. You grab onto Shadowheart's elbow like a lifeline.

"Karlach!" Wyll calls and you all snap your head to the side. The party had claimed a booth, and Gale and Wyll were standing up, waving their arms over their heads. They looked like they started early on the drinking; both men's faces were flush, and they each held an easy, dopey grin.

"Wyll!" Karlach linked her arms with yours and Shadowheart's and approached the table. You let her pull you, too busy searching for him. Astarion is slow to stand, but you know the moment he sets his eyes on you. You watch the subtle change in his body language. His hand tightened around the goblet; the exaggerated inhale of air as if someone had kicked him, watching the hunger grow in his eyes.

Now, you feel the confidence bloom in your chest. The dress no longer makes you squirm in discomfort; no, it gives you power and makes you feel desired and sexy. The flame ignites low in your abdomen. Suddenly, you were playing with fire and excited to get burned. A smug smile stretches your lips the closer you get. Pulling away from Karlach, you move and hook your arms around Astarion's neck. You pull him down and place a kiss on his cheek.

"Hi, handsome," you smile up at him, feeling his hand caress the small of your back. Cold fingers playing at the edge of the corset.

"Hello darling, you look breathtaking." He pushes you back gently, giving him space to take in your attire. "Turn for me, my love. Let me look upon the goddess before me."

You roll your eyes at his cheesiness but oblige his request, spinning slowly to allow Astarion to take in every angle. When you come full circle, Astarion captures your lips, and you fall against his chest. His lips meld against yours in a sensual kiss that was entirely inappropriate for the amount of people around, but neither of you seemed to care. Humming against his mouth, you cup his jaw and pull his face away. Astarion chases your lips and lets out a low groan when you deny him what he wants.

You give Astarion a mischievous grin, patting his chest when you ask. "Do you mind getting me a drink?"

He gives you a pointed look, visibly dissatisfied with his kiss. With one look and your hand running up his chest and over his shoulder, Astarion caves with a huff. "Yes, of course. Would you like your usual?"

"Yes, please." You say pecking his lips a final time before joining your friends in the booth.

Wyll was regaling the table with a tale of his early days as the Blade of Frontiers when Astarion slides in beside you. He sets your drink down, and you whisper your thanks before taking a sip and focusing back on Wyll. Gale is quick to call out Wyll's bullshit, Shadowheart pointing out the exaggeration the warlock had blended into his story. It soon devolved into a bickering match as Wyll tried to defend himself. You chuckle between sips of wine, leaning into Astarion, setting your head gently against his shoulder. His hand had found your bare thigh, fingers kneading the supple flesh.

Suddenly, your friends become background noise as your senses hone in on Astarion. The cheeky smirk that stretches his lips tells you he knows exactly what he's doing as Astarion inches his smooth hand further under your dress—never crossing the line but far enough to make you clench your legs together in need. You bite your lip, cheeks burning from more than the alcohol, and reach down to take his hand in yours.

"I know what you're doing,"

"Oh, and what is that, my dear?" Astarion grins, bringing your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. He leans to your ear, "Do you not want me to touch you?" His breath cascades over your neck, and a shiver runs up your spine.

"Not when you're trying to tease me in public."

"My sweet girl, I'm not the one being a tease."

"Soldier! Stop making goo-goo eyes at Fangs, and come dance with me!" Karlach yells across the table, breaking whatever spell Astarion had you under. Pulling away, you look up to see Karlach jumping up and down, hand outstretched for you to take.

"You know I won't say no to dancing." Astarion reluctantly moves to let you out of the booth. Karlach is quick to grab your hand and pull you towards the stage.

The time is lost in the beat of the drums and the flow of your hips. Karlach twirls you around, and you can't stop giggling. Wyll joins in the fun, and suddenly, the crowd has formed a unified line dance. It's messy, and you don't know the steps, but you watch Wyll and poke fun at Karlach's improvised moves. You dance until your breath is ragged and your feet start hurting. Moving your body until the sea of people starts to drown you. Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through your veins or the excitement of the dancing. Still, the fun quickly turns to overstimulation that blankets you in thick sheets. In an instant, the room is too hot and too loud, and if you don't get out now, you just might scream.

You leave Karlach and move towards the door outside to the back alley. Pushing it open, you stumble over the threshold and inhale the cold night air. It instantly sobers, clearing your mind and easing your panic. You stare up at the starry sky, soaking in the bright moon. Goosebumps spread over your exposed arms and legs, and you shiver. It doesn't stop you from stepping further into the alleyway as you breathe and allow your heart to settle its pounding. You can still hear the muffled music and thumping feet.

You hear the door open again but pay it no mind until Astarion speaks, "There you are, my sweet."

You turn on your heel and give him a soft smile. He glowed under the moonlight, an ethereal being standing before you, his face partially cast in shadow, staring at you with hunger. "I needed some air."

"I'm sure you did," Astarion smirks, stepping closer toward you. A predator stalks up to its prey. "All that dancing you were doing must have been exhausting."

"It was, but it was so fun." You reach out instinctually, wrapping your arms around his neck. Astarion smoothes his hands down your spine to the swell of your butt, moving to squeeze the soft, plump flesh. "You should join me next time." You squeak at his grip, pressing yourself closer to him.

Then his lips are on yours, and your back is digging into the rough brick of the alleyway. Astarion's tongue is in your mouth, and you're moaning, gripping his shoulders to find purchase. One of his fangs nipped your bottom lip, and your knees practically buckled under you. You would have fallen if Astarion hadn't pressed you against the wall.

"I think I just might take you dancing tomorrow." His cold hands caress your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip, pushing up the fabric of your dress with it. "I'll buy you a pretty new dress to add to your growing collection, and I'll have you move your body for me like you've been doing all night."

He rolls his hips into yours, and you cry into his neck, kissing his skin to muffle your noises. "Swaying those hips in this tight little thing. Gods darling, I've been hard all night, and it's entirely your fault, you naughty little minx."

"Astarion," You sigh, relishing the friction of his hard cock against your clothed core.

"Such a cruel woman, dangling a feast over a starving man. I'll have to punish you for that." Astarion purrs, running his nose along the line of your jaw, stopping to bite at his favorite spot; his fangs puncture the surface just enough to have droplets of your blood trickle out.

His tongue lavishes over your skin, making sure not a drop escapes. The moan that rumbles through his chest is purely animalistic, and a rush of heat gushes between your legs. "But right now, my naughty girl, I'm going to fuck you here against this wall."

You let out a whimper, hips bucking instinctually, heat coiling in your lower stomach. "Please.."

Astarion takes no time to push your underwear aside and push two of his fingers into your folds with a lewd, wet sound. Astarion begins to pump his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt, with each stroke curling up just slightly. The rough pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit, and applying pressure, he circles the nub in time with his fingers.

"You're already so drenched, always so ready for me." You pull his face in and sigh into his mouth, niping his lip playfully. Threading your hand through his soft curls, you give a soft tug, relishing in the grunt Astarion gives you.

You're painfully aware of your surroundings and know that someone could step out and catch the two of you any moment. The thought gives you a jolt of excitement you'll have to think about later. There is no room to take your time, so you tug harder on Astarion's hair loss, pulling his lips from the flesh of your neck he was playing with.

"Star," You roll your hips against his hand impatiently. "I need you to fuck me already,"

"So impatient, but you are right. This is not the time to play." Astarion tsk before unceremoniously ripping your underwear off and stuffing them in his pocket.

"I liked those."

"I'll buy you a new pair, maybe one to match your new dress." Astarion peppers kiss down your neck. Your hands move to pull his pants down, freeing his cock. It's red and looks painfully swollen. Astarion hisses through his teeth when you give the base of his cock a tight squeeze.

"I want one that matches the new dress and the same ones you just ripped." You countered, giving him a few languid strokes using his precum as a lubricant.

"Whatever you want, my love." He says mindlessly, taking you into another breathtaking kiss.

Astarion hands leave your cunt, and a whine leaves your lips. He kisses your pout and quickly grabs his cock. Astarion pumps himself a few more times before lining up at your entrance. When Astarion sheaths himself fully in your heat, the wind is knocked out of you. A collective groan of ecstasy escapes from both of your mouths. There is no build-up, no room to catch your breath. Astarion quickly pulls out and slams back into you—your back scraps against the bricks, and your foot slips on the cobblestone.

You yelp scrambling to hold on and not fall pathetically onto the dirty alley floor. Astarion, without skipping a beat, scoops you up fully in his arms. All you can do is wrap your legs around his hips and hold on as he pounds into your dripping cunt.

"Gods, you're perfect," Astarion signs into your neck. He pulls at your dress, moving the corset just enough to expose one of your breasts. He bends his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth. You choke on a gasp; cupping the back of his head, you press him further against you.

"Astarion," you moan, carding your fingers into his curls. Rolling your hips, you match his thrusts. Your lower stomach tightens, and you will not last much longer. Not with him pulling you apart in the way only he can. You tried to say as much, but you choke on a sob when Astarion's fingers find your clit.

He grinds your hips into the brick wall and brutalizes your clit with tight circles. His voice is raspy in your ears. "I'm close, love…ngh - gods, you feel so good."

"A-astarion, please!" Tears bead down your cheeks, pleasure overwhelming your senses. Your muscles are tightening. Your legs quake, and you clench tightly around him.

"That’s it, come for me, beautiful." And that is all you need to see stars, opening your mouth in a silent cry. Ecstasy courses through your veins, and you bite down on his collarbone to ground yourself in your pleasure. His hips stutter, pace faltering as he loses himself in your body, spilling his seed deep into you.

Neither of you moves; the brick is now uncomfortably digging into your back, but you can't find the energy to care. Astarion peppers kiss up and down your neck. You scratch his scalp softly and catch your breath. It’s nice.

"I guess I should wear more dresses."

"My dear, you could wear a burlap sack, and I would have still taken you against this wall."

"Horny bastard."

The two of you were too caught up in each other to notice the tavern door opening again. Nor did either of you notice two figures stepping out. At least not until Karlach's loud cackle echoed down the alleyway. You whip your head in her direction, Astarion following suit. Karlach is hunched over and on her knees, shoulders shaking with laughter. Shadowheart stands beside her, arms crossed with disgust and annoyance plastered on her face.

Astarion is quick to turn you away, shielding you with his body. He let’s you go and you scramble to cover yourself. He helps you fix your dress. Great.

"What did I tell you? Fangs couldn't keep it in his pants long enough to find a room!" Karlach booms, slapping Shadowheart on the arm. "Hand it over," her palm extended in wait. You hide your face in Astarion's neck, face burning in embarrassment.

Shadowheart mumbled something under her breath, digging in her pocket for her gold pouch. "Here," the gold is slapped into the tieflings palm. She turns to the two of you. "Find a different cleric to cure whatever disease you've contracted in this filthy alley." Shadowheart quickly turns back into the tavern, the door slamming behind her.

"Well, thanks for the gold," The tiefling beams and skips after Shadowheart, leaving you and Astarion alone once more.

You refuse to leave the space between Astarion's jaw and collarbone. Thoughts of packing your stuff and running to Candlekeep are crossing your mind. Karlach and Shadowheart are already telling Wyll and Gale about your exploits, and you don't want to handle the smug looks.

Astarion's chest rumbles with silent laughter, and you're pulled from your escape plans. You emerge from your safe space and glare up at the man. "What's so funny?!"

He laughs harder, and runs his thumb over your pout, cupping your jaw. You hold firm in your annoyance and turn your head. "Karlach is telling all of our friends that we just fucked in a dirty back alley, why would you be laughing?" You snap.

"You would think at this point Shadowheart would stop betting on our love life. Tsk, all the gold she's lost." You narrow your eyes at him. His playful smirk widens. "She and the other weirdos should know how shamelessly I want you. They were lucky I didn't fuck you on the table."

Rolling your eyes, you shove him hard, forcing Astarion to stumble back. Moving past you storm towards the door; he's laughing and calling your name. Astarion, only get your middle finger before the tavern door closes behind you.

Astarion is a cheeky shit. I love him.... Let me know what ya thought, i love your feedback.

Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #reader insert #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #fanfic #frantic fiction #astarion smut #smut #bg3 smut #bg3 x tav #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction

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unpassive-viewer · 1 month

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Watching breaking in the olympics has been awesome as a former hip hop dancer, but holy shit. For every person who doesn't know how breaking even works and doesn't think it's a sport, there's ten more who are excited about the men's competition, but absolutely ragging on the women's competitors. My head is actually spinning.

If you don't know about breaking, I need to explain some things:

The breakers all know one another already, and all respect each other. This includes between the m&f categories. Nicka (silver medalist - women's) and Phil Wizard (gold medalist - men's) have literally competed as a duo.

The breakers that you think "are better than everyone in the finals" already went through the qualifying trials. They also compete with all the medalists, they also tried out for the olympic teams. They did not make it.

To that end, every battle is its own battle. They may have done poorly in the qualifying trials, but have beaten the now-gold medalists in other competitions. It's not like swimming where Katy Ledecky will pummel everyone else in the race unless she has an exceptionally off day.

Related to point 2 - breaking was born in the Bronx. It was also born in the 1970s. Being mad that the demographics don't reflect who you think should be dancing, or being mad that the dance isn't "in touch with its roots" is like being mad that someone modified the recipe for ginger beef. Some of the guys who were competing today are old enough that they were dancing with the same people who invented the sport. I promise that they have crazy respect for how it began and all of its influences.

Related to point 3 - breaking requires originality. It is a foundational element of the sport to evolve and be creative. It's a sport, but it's also an art form.

Dancing for three rounds in three separate battles is a lot for any dancer. If you think some of them looked like shit toward the end (I disagree, but whatever) it's because they are tired. Not to mention there were heat warnings in Paris! They still have more athletic ability in their left pinky finger than I've ever had in my whole body - and I was someone who also did street dance!

The music wasn't decided ahead of time, but the DJs were playing very very popular breaking songs. All of the competitors already know how they go, so if they were scoring low in musicality, it's not because they panicked not knowing the song.

The athletes have sets made up already, they're not freestyling. They adapt them to the music, but unless they blank in the middle of the competition, they already know which skills they want to show off. (I'm editing to clarify that some of them did freestyle, but for the most part it was after they felt like they'd done what was going to get them points)

I really doubt that anyone on tumblr is going to care, but Instagram users can't read and YouTube is full of bots. I'm so excited that I got to watch my sport in the Olympics, but my lord people cannot behave.

#breaking #olympics #paris olympics #paris 2024 #olympics 2024 #breakdancing

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mostly-imagines · 5 months

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Scenes From an Afternoon Odyssey

jason todd x fem!reader

aka a day in the forest

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: reader wears a bra

middle picture art by spaceboykenny

You’ve nearly reached the peak of the slope, the uphill trek putting quite a toll on your legs. Jason insisted on holding your hand because his longer stride tends to put him several steps ahead of you. The sun beats down on your backs, the uptake in the heat of the day actually feeling quite nice compared to the chill that’s swept over Gotham recently.

Upon arriving at the flat plane, you take in a pretty array of sunflowers and a thoughtfully placed bench.

Jason halts his steps, looking back at you. “You need a break?” He asks, noting the way your breathing has become a bit labored.

You hum, taking a deep inhale. “Just for a second,” you say, plopping down on the bench.

He reaches behind him to fish the water bottle out of the pocket of his backpack. “Drink some water.” he says gruffly, holding the bottle out to you.

You don’t particularly feel like you need water again just yet, but you know better than to try and fight him on something related to taking care of yourself. It’s a losing battle and he’s proved it time and time again.

You take the drink from him, taking a couple sips. He eyes you with disapproval, bringing his hand up to tilt the bottom of the bottle up more. You down a few gulps, trying not to smile.

He takes the bottle back from you, taking a couple gulps of his own. Once the water returns to its pocket, he sits down next to you, hand massaging your thigh. In turn, your hand moves up to the nape of his neck, playing with the short hair there.

Despite your claim, you sit for longer than a second, listening to the birds chirping and the leaves rustling in the wind. It really is a beautiful day and Jason knew a great trail that’s hardly ever busy. It’s aways away from Gotham, but any excuse he can take to get the two of you out of the smog filled city, he’ll take.

Between the serenity of the scene in front of you and the warmth of his touch on your thigh, your breathing steadies pretty quickly.

You peer at the path ahead, taking note of how level and easy it looked. Your hand flattens on the base of his neck as you turn to him, “I could beat you in a race.” You say decidedly.

He huffs out a laugh, meeting your eyes with a glint of amusement shining in his own. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smile, nodding, “Been waiting for a chance to prove it.”

You stand up, turning around to take his hand and pull him up with you. He does most of the work for you, pulling his weight up himself.

“You wanna go?” He smiles, looking down at you.

“Do you wanna go?” Your smile grows impossibly, and Jason decides right then and there that he’d do absolutely anything to see you light up like that again.

You figure a sprint is your best chance, you’re not willing to bet that you can beat out a vigilante when it comes to endurance. Especially considering the uphill incline almost took you out.

You settle on a finish line about 30 feet away, and as you position yourselves to start, you feel your overconfidence begin to cave back in on you. His stature swamps you out, and it's becoming clear that you’ve got no real chance here. In any case, you’ve committed and this is happening.

“Ready…set…” both of you have the idea to start before you say go, taking off with haste.

You’re laughing as you run, which isn’t doing you any favors with keeping ahead of him, though you’re able to maintain a pretty neck and neck match.

Did he let you win? Yeah. He’s a gentleman, of course. He’s right on your tail though, and lifts you up from under your arms as you cross the finish line, nipping at your neck as you giggle.

He sets you back down gently, “Alright, fast girl. You need a drink?” He tucks some stray hair in your face back behind your ear.

“No, I’m...” You pause, scanning around. You point at a big tree along the side of the trail ahead. “You see that tree right there?”

He glances over, “Yeah?”

You take off sprinting for it without another word. And apparently cheating is a quick ticket to him dropping the act and beating you without an ounce of mercy.

You’re sitting on a relatively level branch in a tree next to Jason, one of your legs resting on top of one of his. You swing your free leg back and forth, biting into your sandwich.

There’s a couple juice boxes balancing in the small space between you, both half empty. He’d laughed at you when you picked them up from the store on the way there, but he drinks it all the same.

He holds your ziplock bag of chips out to you and you take a small handful, popping them into your mouth. When your hand moves to return to your side, he takes it in his own and presses your knuckles to his lips gently.

With a sly smile, you watch butterflies dance around each other and listen to birds singing their offbeat songs. And you think about Jason. You think about how he held you in his arms last night so you could fall asleep while he read. How on the way up here he’d held your hand as you balanced across the stones, forcing him to walk at a much slower pace than he’d probably prefer. You told him he could walk a little ahead, but he’d insisted on holding your hand so you didn’t “slip and bust your head open” in his words.

You wouldn’t know it, but he’s combing through his own set of memories of you too. It’s a bit silly to spend so much time dwelling on these warm memories about someone that’s only right next to you, but you’ve both found it’s hard to stop.

It used to scare Jason, how often you occupied his whole mind. He’d never felt such intense adoration and devotion before that he’d nearly mistaken it for fight or flight. It was foreign and strange, and it felt like danger. But it didn’t take long for the effects of his love to kick in like a drug, and now he can’t get enough of you.

But you don’t feel like a drug, you feel like a cure. You make him feel like himself again, like death never got a hold of him and like he’s an innocent soul anew. You treat him like it, at least.

Maybe it’s silly to fall into such a deep pit of thoughts about you when you’re right there, smiling so bright over at him and gleefully pointing out a couple of squirrels that are fighting over an acorn. But he’s happy to let you take up as much space in his head as you want.

You sit with your legs dangling off the pier, shoes cast aside so you can enjoy the cool water. Jason sits a few feet behind you, laying down against the wood of the dock, the sun beating down on his face.

The water is a beautiful blue marble reflection, and the sun radiates down on your skin, sending warmth throughout your body which combats the light breeze handily. You lean down and dip your hand into the water, letting it run between your fingers like thread.

“Can we swim?” you pipe up, looking over your shoulder at Jason.

He raises his eyebrows at you, “You didn’t know there was a lake up here.” He means he knows you don’t have a swimsuit under your clothes.

You shrug, “There’s no one up here.”

He scans around mildly, before looking at the water. “Yeah, okay.” He tugs his shirt off his back, coming to a stand.

You grin, pulling up the material of your own shirt from your waist. Once it’s swept over your head, Jason’s left in just his boxers and not a moment later you’re in a similar state.

He smiles at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and it takes you no time at all to realize where he’s going with this. He lifts you up off the ground and dives off the dock, submerging you both in the water.

You bob back up out of the water, not even trying to suppress the glee on your face. And somewhat to your surprise, neither does he.

You’d had dinner at the manor with his family last night and you were still a bit attuned to Jason’s closed off, stoic mood that he gets in around them. He feels something akin to insecurity when he openly emotes around them. Vulnerability, maybe. Either way, you know he hates the feeling and will avoid it at all costs so it’s nice when it’s just the two of you and he gets to act like himself.

Unlike Jason, you can’t quite touch the floor of the lake, so you tread with the water wavering at your neck. The water barely reaches the start of Jason’s shoulders as he stands before you.

He closes the small space between you before his arms make their way under your thighs, lifting you up out of the water slightly. He looks up at you with a lazy smile as you wrap your legs around his body. Your cheeks warm and you hold his face in your hands, leaning down to kiss him with heat.

He deepens the kiss, thumbs rubbing at your thighs as his head tilts back. Your thumbs stroke at his cheek in turn, smiling against his lips.

He actually whines when you pull away, chasing your lips. You rest your hands on his shoulders, simpering down at him.

“Alright, slow down, hotshot. We’re not doing anything in a lake.” You laugh, pushing the dripping white streak back with the rest of his wet hair.

He huffs, “If there was anyone around here I promise you would not be half naked right now.”

You push yourself off of him, dropping back down into the water. “Other people are the least of your concerns,” you say, grinning and splashing him in the face, backing away with haste.

He blinks the water out of his eyes, laughing. “That’s how it is?”

You bite your lip as he approaches and you continue to retreat. “Can’t have you losing focus.”

He raises his brow at you, wearing a smile that says that you should know that was a mistake. He proves it as he dives after you, lifting you up over his shoulder and tossing you into the water with an unfair amount of ease.

You’re a bit hidden away in the tall grass, the scent of lavender flowers placing you in repose. You’re laying with your head in his lap, eyes closed as he pages through his book.

He’s reading out loud, though if you’re being honest, you haven’t fully processed a single word he’s read in at least ten minutes. He’s good at making you relax with his voice, and the amount of exercise you’ve gotten in today is doing nothing to slow it down.

You can’t think of when he started playing with your hair, but it feels soothing and frankly it’s making you very sleepy. Between the gravelly lull of his words and the rustling of the flora throughout the field you’re about to pass out.

“I’m gonna fall asleep.” You mumble, eyes shut.

His hand stills and he extends his book away from his body so he can see your face. “Sweetheart, there’s not a chance in hell you were awake that whole time.”

“I was,” you say, blinking up at him blearily. “I was just resting my eyes.”

He looks down at you skeptically. “How long have we been here?”

You click your tongue, “Like fifteen minutes.”

“It’s been an hour and a half.” he says simply, flipping his book shut from the last page as proof.

“It has n—” you look up at the sky and notice the sun is in a wildly different spot than it was when you’d first laid down. You’re almost completely in the shadows of the trees now. “Wh—why did you let me sleep for so long?”

He hums lowly, “You looked peaceful.” He pauses, “Pretty.”

He looks at the sky, squinting. He nudges you off his lap gently, coming to a stand. “Come on. The sun’s gonna start going down soon.”

You groan and he pulls you up to join him, your fatigue tailing after you. You lean your weight against him and rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes again. “Let’s just stay here.”

You feel him shake his head. “Can’t stay here, sweetheart. Who’ll feed the strays back home?”

He’s right. You can’t leave them to dumpster dive again.

You groan louder as you pull back and stand up straight. “You did not mention that the trail was so long.” You look down at your sore legs and try to stretch them out a bit to get energy back in them.

When you look back up at him, he’s swinging the backpack on, but he stops midway, dropping it to his side again.

He slugs his backpack over your shoulders, turning his back to you and bending down a bit. You take the hint and jump up. He catches you with ease, hoisting you up higher.

He starts down the grassy path out of the field, sidestepping flowers and bumblebees as he goes. Your head lulls to the side and ends with your cheek resting on his shoulder.

He bobs you up, “If I’m carrying you all the way back to the car you have to stay awake.”

“If you’re carrying me all the way back to the car, what difference does it make?” you grumble, eyes fluttering.

“Keep me company.”

You pick your head up and press a kiss to his neck. “I can do that. What do you want to eat tonight?”

He hums thoughtfully. “You wanna get pizza?”

You nod, pleased. “Big day for us.”

You have one arm draped loosely over his shoulder and the other lags by your side. “Are you going on patrol tonight?” You ask him.

He peers back at you haphazardly, “Uh, no—will you hold onto me, please?”

You’re nowhere near falling, but you know that’s not why he wants you to hold onto him. You’re happy to oblige though. You wrap your arms around him, crossing them over each other so you can hold onto his shoulders.

Seemingly content, he continues, “No, I’m not. Wanna stay in with you.”

“Aw. Going soft on me?” You rag.

He hums deeply, “Or maybe I'm just sick of being around Dick.”

You scoff, “Well, if you’re gonna be mean.”

“I’m literally carrying you right now.” He shrugs you up a bit in emphasis. Fair enough.

You look up and can see the pinking hues of the sky in between the leaves of the trees, glowing down softly on you. Your mouth twists into a contemplative frown. It takes you a moment to piece together where you’re at, but you eventually realize you’re only halfway back to the car. “I don’t think we’re gonna make it back before sunset.”

“That’s okay.” He tells you.

You rest your chin on his shoulder, a bemused pout on your face. “You hate it when I’m outside after dark.”

“I hate it when you’re alone outside after dark.” He corrects.

“Ah.” You nod, thoughtfully. “But now I’ve got my strong boyfriend to protect me, right?”

He scoffs but you’re just upset you can’t see the flush on his cheeks that you’re certain is there.

Though he shows no signs of struggling, you’re beginning to feel guilty that he’s spending his day off lugging you around.

“I can walk.” You offer, pushing yourself up a bit, ready to jump down.

“I know.” He says simply, shrugging you up higher.

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fastandcarlos · 1 month

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Pregnancy Squabbles : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

summary: after walking out the door that morning, lewis is determined to fix things with his pregnant wife, only for things to not quite go to plan and send him into a panic

Your eyes shut in frustration as you heard the apartment door opening, knowing exactly who it was. You remained frozen to the spot in the kitchen as you heard Lewis’ footsteps march through, glancing up as soon as he walked into the room, noticing the spring that was in his step.

That soon stopped however as he noticed you staring across at him, standing still to match your own stance. The enthusiasm from his day seemed to quickly disappear as the tension that was in your apartment from the morning crept back in. Neither of you quite knew what to say, an uncomfortable silence present.

Lewis was the first to move as he walked over to the sink and grabbed himself a glass, filling it up from the tap. He took a seat at one of the barstools in the middle of your kitchen, refusing to back down as you began to move again.

“How’ve you been today?” Lewis asked, watching your eyes turn away from him.

You could only manage a hum in response to him, placing one hand over your growing baby bump as the other reached to turn the oven on as you began to prepare food for you both. Lewis frowned, not expecting you to be quite so blunt with him.

“Love, please can we not carry on with the arguing,” he asked of you, watching nervously as you struggled to stretch up and reach one of the pans out of the cupboard.

Once you had it, you slammed it down on the counter before turning around to face him. “I wasn’t the one that decided to be insulting this morning, or the one who decided to walk out before we got a chance to talk things through, that was all on you Lewis.”

Deep down he knew that much of your argument from the morning was down to him, he took advantage of your hormones and knew he could give himself a good battle with you. Things had been heated for a while, with Lewis still racing whilst you entered the final stages of pregnancy, causing you both a bit of a headache.

“I’m sorry that I was so rude to you earlier, I know there was no need for it,” Lewis softly spoke, offering you a faint smile. “Everything’s just getting on top of the two of us.”

It was busy, and it was stressful, but it was still no excuse for you both. You’d squabbled a little with each other, but your argument that morning was unlike anything that you had experienced for quite some time.

“I’m trying to make things right and somehow it feels that you couldn’t care less about that right now.”

Your eyes widened as you opened up the fridge, “not all of us can go to work and come back and carry on like nothing has happened. I’ve been nonstop all-day Lewis; I haven’t got time to sit and fix things with you right now.”

“Don’t you think you should be taking it easy?”

Your head shook as you took out the ingredients that you needed, focused on getting things done. Lewis’ eyes watched you, searching for every opportunity he could to try and talk to you, but you didn’t give him a chance. Lewis was clueless as to how hurt you were and how unwilling you were to just carry on as if nothing had happened.

Your hormones only made things worse for you, you snapped quicker, got frustrated more easily, and found yourself much harsher towards Lewis than you usually were.

“Love, please sit down and I’ll sort dinner out,” Lewis requested, worry beginning to set in as he noticed how tired you were starting to look. “I don’t care how mad you are, just let me sort this.”

“I’ve done everything else today, I might as well do this too,” you sighed as you placed your ingredients down. “You sit and relax; you seem to be good at that these days.”

You continued to ignore Lewis’ protests as you went over to the cupboards, opening up the top one to grab more ingredients. The first time you went up on your tiptoes you were alright, the second time however, things didn’t quite go to plan.

As you went to reach up, a sharp pain ripped down the right of your bump causing you to let go of a hiss. Your hand immediately landed where the pain was, doubling over as you leant on the kitchen counter, breathing through whatever it was that had become unsettled.

“Babe,” Lewis quickly spoke, rushing up from the stool and racing around the counter to get to you.

A pair of hands at your waist made you jump, glancing back to see Lewis right there with you. He held onto you tightly as you slowly stood yourself up after giving yourself a moment, allowing Lewis to guide you over to take a seat, settling you down with his strong hold.

“Are you alright? Do I need to call someone?” Lewis nervously asked, moving across and taking his glass of water and placing it down in front of you. Lewis’ anxious eyes studied you closely, wanting to check for himself that you were alright.

Your head shook as you took a deep breath, “I think I’m good.”

Lewis brought his seat around so that he was sat right beside you, holding his hand over the top of both of yours. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be working this hard, I need to be at home more and taking better care of you.”

“You’re allowed to work, I shouldn’t be expecting you to be here holding my hand all the time,” you whispered in response, finally finding yourself letting Lewis back in again.

Lewis’ head shook as you spoke, even people at work were surprised to see him there as much as he was. With only a couple of weeks to go, they tried to encourage him to be at home more with you, but Lewis very rarely listened.

You were guilty of being pretty stubborn too, you were determined that you could do everything even though your body was beginning to slow down. You hated that your pregnancy was seeing you begin to lose your independence, all those easy jobs that you did daily were suddenly some of the hardest things in the world to do.

“I promise that I’m going to be around to support you whenever you need me,” Lewis insisted, “you’re my priority, you and the baby should’ve always been my priority.”

Your head came down to rest against Lewis’ shoulder, feeling one of his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you tighter into his side as your body relaxed again.

Lewis’ other hand moved away from your own, resting it over the top of your bump, reminding himself silently of what was the most important thing for him, raising his family and taking care of them as he should.

“Can we forget about this morning?” Lewis nervously asked.

“Yeah, I think we should.”

“I promise I’m going to be here,” Lewis reminded you once again, “I know I’ve been far from perfect recently, but you and the baby are by far the most important things to me, I just need to do a better job of proving that to you.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as Lewis spoke. “Maybe I should be asking you for help more too, rather than just doing things on my own all the time. It’s so hard not being able to be the person I once was, as exciting as it is to have this baby, I feel like I don’t recognise myself and all the things I used to be able to do anymore.”

“I know it’s hard, but these things we can do together,” Lewis smiled, “maybe starting with making dinner?”

Your head nodded as you let go of a giggle, “we’re supposed to be a team, it’s probably about time that we start working like one again, don’t you think?”

“I couldn’t agree more. How about I start taking more time off work and you start giving me a list of the things that you need me to do so that I can help you out more.”

“It might be a pretty long list Lew.”

He shrugged back at you, “I don’t care. I’ll do all the things that I need to do in order to help you out, it doesn’t matter how tricky they are or how much time they’ll take for me to complete.”

“In that case, you can definitely start by reaching up into that cupboard and getting out the things that I couldn’t,” you joked.

“Now that’s a job I definitely can do.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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grandlinedreams · 11 months

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“We should get married.”

The question in and of itself is a strange one, made more so for the fact that it’s coming from Zoro of all people – and the fact that he’s asking you in the middle of a fight. Your back is pressed against his, the heat of his skin seeping into your clothes – and you wonder if he’s gotten hit in the head too many times. Or thrown through too many things – too much of something.

“Are you seriously saying that right now?” Your tone is incredulous as you swing your weapon, scowling as you watch another enemy drop with a cry and a splatter of blood. “We’re a little busy right now, aren’t we?”

Zoro grins, expression manic with the deepened shadows of his face from his bandana, adjusting to place the hilt of Wadou Ichimonji in his mouth. “Is that a yes?”

You have the brief moment of considering knocking Zoro out for your opponent – clearly his daily naps out in the sun have baked his brain more than you previously thought. “No!”

–

The question doesn’t turn out to be borne from a brain-based injury flaring up, because Zoro doesn’t let the subject go. He bides his time, waiting about two weeks from when he first asked before he tries again.

This time, the stars are a witness to his buffoonery – now fueled by the bottles of sake he seems to have squirreled away everywhere on the Thousand Sunny. You watch as he tips the bottle to his lips, the brief shimmer of liquid that beads at his lips before it disappears as he swallows.

“We should get married,” he says, and this time, you scoff. It isn’t one of disdain, rather of amusement as you wait for the alcohol induced flush to rise to his cheeks. “‘m serious, you know.”

“No,” you counter softly as you scoot closer to him, reaching up to wipe a drop of sake from the corner of his lips and bring it to your own for a taste. As ever, his own choices in alcohol seem to be tailored for him and him alone – sake still isn’t your thing. “You’re drunk.”

Zoro hums, eye flicking from the night sky above to you. “Is that a yes?”

You press your lips to his warm cheek. “Ask me again when you’re sober.”

–

The third time that he asks, he’s waited so long that you’ve almost forgotten that he ever asked in the first place. After all, Roronoa Zoro has never seemed like someone interested in the intimate entanglement of marriage – you have absolutely no clue what has possessed him to suddenly ask you with this kind of tenacity.

“We should get married,” he says, and you resist the urge to sigh as you stare at him, his head pillowed against your thigh. Below the shade of Nami’s tangerine trees, you can hear Luffy’s bright laughter intermingled with Usopp and Franky’s.

This time you aren’t in the middle of a fight, nor is he drunk. This time, you take a moment to study his face, the dapple of sunlight through waxy green leaves, the scent of citrus in the air. You love him, you’re sure of that – as sure as you’ve been of anything in your life.

“We’re pirates,” you answer, tapping your fingers against his cheek in an echoed rhythm of one of Brooke’s songs from the night before. “Pirates don’t get married.”

“Sure they do.” He’s watching you now, with the kind of intensity he usually only reserves for battle, and you look away. “Captains can officiate marriages. I asked Robin about it.”

You blink and let your attention shift to Luffy for a minute – you love your captain, you do. But the idea of him being serious about much of anything beyond what matters to him (food, his crew’s safety, finding the One Piece – in that order) makes you giggle. You can’t imagine him officiating something like a marriage.

“What if I want a ceremony?” Your fingers find his cropped green hair, stroking gently across his scalp. “Those are expensive.”

He shrugs. “We’d find a way. I’m sure Nami would help.”

Your lips curve in an amused smile for a moment before it dims at the edges. “It’d be dangerous,” you point out, and he answers with a short bark of laughter.

“Not any more than shit we’ve already faced.”

“Rings?”

“We don’t need that fancy stuff.”

Your smile fades completely, hand stilling in his hair. “Why do you think we should get married?”

There must be an edge to your tone now, because Zoro refocuses on you, all signs of mirth gone. “Because we love each other, right? Sounds like the next logical step.”

Your gaze hardens. “So you’re asking because you think we should? Or because you want to marry me?” He sits up, and you get to your feet.

“Is that a no?” he asks, and you pause.

“Ask me again when you figure things out, Zoro.”

–

“Marry me.”

This time, his voice is quiet. Soft and vulnerable – for the late hour or the intimacy of his bare skin against yours, you aren’t sure. His hand drifts up and down your back, counting the bumps of your spine over and over.

You shift against him, face nestled to rest against his chest. “Zoro–”

“I’ve thought about it,” he cuts you off. “So just be quiet and listen, okay?” You don’t say a word, waiting for him to continue on his own. “I don’t want to marry you just because I think that I should, I want us to get married because you...you mean a lot to me. You’re important to me, and I –” He pauses, struggling. This kind of thing is not Zoro’s forte, you both know that – but after a moment, he resumes. “I don’t see myself being like this with anyone but you. I don’t want to be like this with anyone but you. Just want you.” A moment of silence, hearts beating in tandem.

You move, adjusting enough that you can look at him properly, the gleam of moonlight against his face. And you kiss him. Slow and sweet, eyes sliding shut as you linger for as long as you can before you pull away.

“Marry me,” he repeats.

This time, you don’t squawk at him like he’s crazy. You don’t accuse him of being drunk, don’t deflect him for fear that he’s doing it because he thinks he should, not that he wants to. This time, you smile.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll marry you.”

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #–ml: zoro.

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luffysscraps · 1 year

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Straw hats kinks;🔞

cw: Headcanons.NSFW.Smut.18+.Fem reader. Luffy’s a bit gross. (BUT IF YOU DONT LIKE HIM LIKE THAT THEN YOU’RE NOT A TRUE LUFFY FAN‼️‼️) Sanji cums on food.

Characters: Luffy. Zoro. Sanji.

Not proofread.

-Luffy

• Hair pulling (Giving and receiving); he didn’t know how much fun it was to pull you down on his cock by your hair. Watching you try to get away from him and forcing you to look at him by your hair made his dick twitch. He also loved when you grasp his head when he’s going down on you. The feeling of your fingers gripping his hair harshly made him hard instantly.

•Excessive cum; Again he discovered this by complete accident. Even without using his devil fruit powers his balls are abnormally large and filled to the brim with cum. Doesn’t matter how long ago he was sucked dry they’ll refill within an hour. And with Luffy’s stamina he doesn’t even notice when he’s shooting blanks. But watching you fill up with his cum turned him on even more which resulted in him going longer creating an endless cycle of cumming inside of you. He likes to pull out slowly and watch the juices drip down his cock and onto the bed sheets; making a mess of your pussy.

•Spit; He’s so messy. His kisses are so sloppy. And he knows this, he often apologizes for his messiness but doesn’t do anything to improve it. So when he accidentally drooled over on top you he didn’t expect his cock to twitch so wildly. So (with your permission of course) he begins to spit on you more often. In your mouth; on your boobs; ass; pussy; face. Anywhere you’ll allow him to he does so. Hell he’ll even ask you to spit on him some times.

•Belly bludge; He loves placing his hand on your womb and, every time he thrusts feeling your skin stretch to accommodate his size. “Hmm~ I can feel myself inside of you~!” He’ll groan out with a laugh on the end of it. He makes it a game, placing his hand on your stomach as he’s trying to feel his tip with every thrust.

•Marking/Biting; He loves, loves, loves to leave marks on your body. By the end of your session you’re left with red and purple hickies and bites all over your body. He can’t seem to take his mouth off of your body, there’s something so addicting about having your soft skin in between his lips. A simple neck kiss often turns into a sex session because he’s so turned on by just sucking on your skin. (Although he does forget his own strength and ends up biting too hard sometimes.)

•Body crushing; “You can take it! Can’t you?” He giggles while he smothers you against the mattress. He loves the feeling of his weight on top of you. At first he used it as a way to restrain you and stop you from squirming but he soon began to enjoy the control he got from it. You can barely breath from underneath him, and your squirms were no more. There was something unexplainably sexy about you two being so close to each other that turned him on. He didn’t know what it was but now he loves to smother you against the bed sheets

•Bonus; He doesn’t mean to be so rough with you, it’s just that he doesn’t know his own strength and when he’s going at it, his mind runs blank more often then not. He’s not in control of his body and stretches his dick to reach your womb, trying to go beyond but it seems impossible. So he’s made it his goal to break through your womb! And he tells anyone who asks what his dreams are or goals. “My goal is find the one piece, become pirate king and break through Y/N’s womb!” He shouts in the middle of a heated battle. Sometimes you wonder why you love this idiot.

-Zoro

•Throat fucking; Zoro often has you laid out on his bed in front of him. He spreads out your arms grasping both of them tightly. He positions himself at the entrance of your mouth and goes to town. He loves to grip your throat and feel the outline of his cock as he thrusts in and out of your mouth like his own personal toy. So warm; so wet; and don’t get him started on that tongue of yours. It’s something about your throat that Zoro loves (slightly) more then your pussy.

•Dacryphilia; When your eyes start to water and tears prick the corners of your eyes Zoro let’s out nothing but a moan. There was no concern for you. He loves watching the tears streak down your cheeks as you whine and cry about how his cock is too big and too much for you to handle. “What is it too big? Come on now Y/N~ I know you can handle it~” The power and control he feels from seeing your pathetic tears make his dick run wild.

•Breastfeeding; The man loves boobs, and he loves sucking on them too, this kink was a no brainer. He doesn’t know why but playing with your nipples and sucking on them gets his rocks off. He’ll get hard In seconds from just playing with them. Sometimes he’ll fall asleep with a nipple in his mouth.

•Cockwarming; Just like how he’ll fall asleep with your nipple on his mouth, he’ll fall asleep with his cock still inside of you. It feels at home just being inside your warm cunt. He loved spooning you and just shoving his cock into you without warning and falling asleep in seconds. It’s just so relaxing, feeling you squeeze him tightly in his sleep. He’ll stay like this with you for hours, but don’t be surprised when he wakes up and starts going to pound town without warning.

•Boxers; something about seeing you in his boxers makes him hard in a heart beat. Man sees you wearing his boxers and he is sprung. You look so sexy wearing his underwear, he can devour you in seconds if you come to bed wearing his boxers. The boxers being way too big for your figure; the way he can see the outline of your cunt. It drives him crazy. A simple nap together can turn into getting freaky in the sheets because of you wearing his boxers.

•Orgasm control; “listen to me. You can’t cum now. Don’t disobey me baby girl~” Again it’s the power going all to his cock. When he feels you squirm and your walls twitch he shakes his head “Ah, ah, ah. You’ve gotta hold it until I cum first alright?” His voice is so demanding and feeling your uncontrollable twitching go against his words causes him to smack your ass. “Bad girl~” he warned with a smirk.

•Breeding; The thought of knocking you up is just so enticing to him. Stuffing you full of his cum and watching you quake and shake makes his body feel so hot. And watching your baby bump and tits grow larger just turns him on so much. He’ll place his hands on your stomach and breasts every day, feeling them swell as the days go by, god it just makes him hard instantly. He’ll pump you full of cum every single night, he can’t help it he loves using your hole for hours on end.

•Bonus; not really a turn on, turn on. But Zoro finds it hot when his s/o is smarter then him. Say something smart, figure something out or lead him back to the crew and he’ll just stare at you with a devious smirk. He’s totally silent but that smirk on his face is all telling.

-Sanji

•praise (giving and receiving); “you’re doing so well for me princess~ just a little more.” “What a good girl you are for me~” “fuck~ so tight. So good for me~ hmm~” with Sanji being Sanji, even if he can’t speak full sentences he’ll praise you to the ends of hell. But if you praise him back, call his cock big, tell him how good he’s fucking you, tell him he’s amazing and sweet to you; he’s hard again in minutes and you’ve earned yourself another round.

•Brat taming; My goodness, please, please, please act naughty and disobey him. It turns him on soooo much. If you tell him ‘no’, try to get away from him, or tell him something mean he’s quick to remind you who’s in control here. He’ll pin you to the bed like “uh uh uh~ Be a good girl for me, okay princess?” With a playful wag of his finger he’ll lightly scold you and act like what you did was childish before rightfully punishing you. Shoving his cock in your pussy before fucking you painfully slowly, and with your body pinned you can’t move at all. You’ll end up whining and begging for him to speed up, and only when you say please is when he’ll comply.

•Spanking; It goes hand and hand with brat taming. Be too naughty in one night and he’ll bend your bare ass over his knee. “Now you’ve earned yourself 20 spanks. I want you to count with each one or else I’ll have to start over.” He warns before he smacks your rear. He’s gentle with you, not too harsh but not too soft of course. He just wants you to learn a lesson. And when he sees the plush of your skin turning a soft red and purple it drives him wild. After the spanking is over he’ll kneed the bruised skin with a sly smile. Sinking his fingers into it to hear you whine and cry more.

•Bondage; He likes the restraining aspect of bondage. He likes to tie you up and restrict your movements. He’ll tie your hands around your back with just about anything he could get his hands on. A rope, a ribbon, his own tie. Loves to watch you squirm and cry, begging to be unrestrained but you’re at his mercy. It makes him feel like he’s in control, only he can let you go and only he can make you feel like this.

•Oral (Giving); Sanji LOVES to eat you out for hours on end. He’ll tie your hands behind your back and place his hands firmly on your thighs so you can’t move. He’ll leave a trail of kisses along your stomach before his head dips down to your wet cunt and his tongue does it’s job. He’ll have you ringing out orgasms on end. Not stopping from your whines and protests of overstimulation. He’ll go until your clit is sore and your pussy aches. He loves eating you out, your juices are simply delicious. He loves feeling your thighs squeeze his head, he swears he can cum just from your noises and the action of his tongue sliding in and out of your slick.

•Food play; Sanji often treats himself with a snack late at night and that’s you. He’s brought whipped cream and hot fudge to the bedroom and you’re his plate to decorate. He’ll tie you down to the bed and spread whipped cream on your sensitive nipples, a trail of hot fudge runs down to your pussy and cherries on top to garnish the dish. He makes you a work of art before devouring your body. As he eats you up like no tomorrow you can feel his hard on pressed against your inner thigh. You’re just the best dish he’s ever had, how can he not get hard?

•Bonus; “I’ve made you a special dish tonight my love.” Sanji beckons as he enters the bedroom holding a plate. You know exactly what that meant and hummed softly laying down on the bed. “It’s a chocolate eclair, made with Love~” He sung happily taking a piece of it up with his fork and putting it to your lips. You could see the runny, milky-clear, liquid of his sperm sitting on top of it and you gladly ate it and you could see the exact second his cock gets hard in his pants.

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xiao-come-home · 6 months

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Even MORE pre-release Boothill. Please bear with me im doing my best,, slightly sug/gestive in one paragraph 🤸‍♀️

I've read somewhere that Boothill short-circuits when he's embarrassed AND I STAND BY IT. 1000%. I am here to spread this like a disease. His system is definitely able to process his emotions, but when you do something that makes his heart skip a beat, he freezes in his spot, his cheeks gain the most beautiful scarlet color... And then you hear the worst combination of malfunctioning robotic noises, AND then sparks fly off of him. Might have to wait a few minutes until he comes back...

Boothill might look like he's calm outside, but he just FEELS the blue screen coming when things get too heated with no break whatsoever or too much fluids go past the protective metal plates. His body stops in place, is absolutely unresponsive, and his eyes flash blue.

Don't worry though, your Boothill has a restart button, right in the middle of his upper back, hidden by his half-vest (or.. whatever that is). He might overheat a little bit though, so be careful not to give yourself unnecessary burns.

In rare cases when his blue screens get REAL bad, you have to stick a USB drive he gave you in those special slots he has on the left side of his hips to bring him back.

Boothill most definitely does not sleep, but gets recharged by electricity or fuel instead. Perhaps that's the reason for the hole he has on his back? Either way, it gives you an opportunity to "plug him up", which he hates, despises even, to hear from you when he feels low on energy (he still wants a goodnight kiss btw).

Boothill swallows bullets. He also spits them out when needed.. usually, he's very careful not to spit them into your mouth when you kiss, but gravity betrays him on his worst days.

Boothill probably works like Siri or Alexa when battles leave him a bit too wounded. You might wonder about something, say it out loud, and then Boothill just can't stop reading the first thing that came up on Google.

"What's the best recipe for carrot cake?"

"2 cups (260g) all-purpose flour, 2 teaspoons baking soda, ½ teaspoon fine sea salt—" Boothill gasps and covers his mouth, "1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon, 1 ¼ cups (295ml) vegetable oil, 1 cup (200g) granulated sugar—"

He just can't stop.

#he can't stop and neither can i #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill hsr #boothill #boothill x reader #.headcanon #spoiler: ive never eaten carrot cake in my life and the recipe isn't first in Google search but i promise he really does this #hoyoverse told me this in a dream

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ellecdc · 6 months

Note

Mother, i have another poly!moonwater request but its a little angsty and tbh its probs mostly Barty appreciation because i 100% believe he'd be the best support system.

So, it doesnt happen very often but Reggie and reader are fighting. Idk what about, maybe she put herself in unnecessary danger or hid a wound?? But Remus has to take Reggies side or maybe he refuses to get involved.

Anyway, as a result she runs to Barty (i imagine she's his James and hes her Sirius) because he's her safe space and is surprisingly soft and comforting. If its readers fault he would be gently upset with her but calmly talk it out with her however he's still on her side and would hide her away for a couple days and let the boys panic for a minute because thats his person aaaaaand he is a little insane.

Hope that all made sense, and then a happy ending or i will cry.

Love youuuuuuu 🫶

'happy ending or I will cry' say less, babes 🫡 Barty to the rescue

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who's best friends with Barty

CW: mentions of fainting, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of blowjobs, Barty wishing people dead (what's new?)

Remus, throughout his life, has not been a stranger to conflict. His father spent Remus’ earliest years in constant battle at the Ministry fighting against werewolf rights. That conflict turned into Remus’ own lifelong curse of lycanthropy as a form of revenge. Remus’ muggle mother and wizard father spent many years in conflict over how to best love and support their werewolf son. Remus and his father experienced a lot of conflict when Dumbledore invited Remus to attend Hogwarts despite his lycanthropy. Remus experienced a lot of conflict with pureblood supremacists at school. Remus experienced conflict with his own friends, namely Sirius, after an unfortunate ‘prank’ that nearly cost both Remus and another student their lives.

But one aspect of Remus’ life that had yet to be a source of conflict had been his relationship with you and Regulus.

It seems almost unfathomable that the three of you managed to intertwine your lives without so much as a clash, but it was true. Regulus brought a confident and assured energy to the relationship, you brought an empathetic and quiet energy, and Remus supposed he was perhaps the most easygoing of the three of you, and that was good for the group.

It is because of this lack of conflict that Remus was very confused to walk into the private study room that the three of you had reserved to find you and Regulus in the middle of a very heated spat.

“And since when don’t you tell me these kinds of things?” Regulus barked angrily at you. Remus actually had to shake his head as if he were hallucinating; he could have easily mistaken Regulus for his brother who was far more hot headed.

“I didn’t know I had to keep you posted on every little thing that happens, Regulus; I was busy.” You spat back.

“Whoa, okay. What have I missed?” Remus asked cautiously, placing his book bag down slowly on the table as if the situation in front of him were a live wire.

“Your girlfriend” Regulus spat as if girlfriend was a dirty word, “fainted today. And I had to hear about it from Pandora!”

Remus ignored most of the things that came out of Regulus’ mouth at the sound of ‘fainted’.

“Dovey! What happened?” He asked, looking to you in horror.

“What happened is she’s been overworking, under-sleeping, under-eating, and she needs to learn to say no to people!”

You scoffed at that. “You mean learn to say no to McLaggen. Just say it Regulus, this about me tutoring the sod in Herbology.”

“This isn’t about some bloke, Y/N!”

“You fainted?” Remus interjected, looking you over as if he may see signs of a fall. He did suppose you looked slightly peaky, but you were clearly worked up over whatever was going on with Regulus.

“Only a little.” You mumbled; voice still taut with impatience though you lowered the derision in your voice when you spoke to him.

“Right. And tell me, how does one only faint a little?” Regulus sneered.

You met him head on, grunting “Knock it off, Regulus. I mean it.”

Remus noticed a slight quiver in your lip, but you stood your ground. He couldn’t say he completely disagreed with Regulus, but he didn’t think shouting at you like this was particularly helpful.

“Dove, we’re only worried about you. It makes us nervous if you’re not taking care of yourself and we don’t know about it, if we at least knew-” He tried, but you scoffed again, but this time at Remus.

“Of course you’d side with him. I don’t need the two of you looking after me!”

“Well apparently you do.” Regulus barked. You didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer.

“Can we just talk about this later, please?” You asked quietly, eyes turning towards the table.

“No, we’re talking about this now. Because Salazar only knows what I’ll be hearing from Pandora next!”

“Maybe I didn’t say anything because this is exactly how I knew you would act.” You glowered at him.

“Are you even supposed to be out of the infirmary yet? What were Madame Pomfrey’s instructions?” Regulus demanded.

“I’m not doing this right now. You’re acting-”

“What were the matron’s instructions?” He asked again, voice threateningly low.

“Stop it, Regulus, I'm ser-”

“When I ask a question, you answer me.” Regulus ordered; voice booming and full of authority.

You paused in packing up your bag to look at Regulus, holding his gaze as if daring him to utter another word. The atmosphere went from the heat of battle to ice cold in a matter of seconds.

Remus took one last look at Regulus, knowing this would be it; this was how they would lose Regulus. He’d have to tell Sirius that his brother was dead, and it was just better if they all moved on. Cause of death? Oh, Y/N burnt him to ashes with nothing but a glare.

You dropped your bag back onto the table and took a step towards Regulus, dropping into a verydramatic curtsey, making sure Regulus watched.

“Yes, Master Regulus.” You sneered with contempt before returning to your full height, eyes still never leaving Regulus’. “I seem to have forgotten myself. I live to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”

And with that, you snatched your book bag and left the study room, slamming the door behind you.

Remus was admittedly very surprised everyone survived this ordeal, though he took a moment to examine Regulus’ form.

“Well...” Remus started. “You’re not bleeding.”

Regulus let out a breath he’d been holding and sunk into his chair. “I don’t...I don’t understand. Was I wrong?”

Remus felt like this may have been a trick question. “Well, I don’t think you were right.”

Regulus looked over miserably at that, eyes begging Remus for comfort. Remus unfortunately couldn’t give it.

“I’m sorry, love. You went too far.”

“I should go after her.” Regulus sighed, looking like he was thinking of getting up.

“Do you value your life?”

“Remus...”

“You need to let her cool off, Reg.”

“But-”

“I mean it, Regulus.” Remus said sternly, raising his eyebrows at the shorter boy. “You were too angry to see it but she was very upset – probably even more so if she’s already not feeling well.”

Regulus crossed his arms not unlike a petulant child being told they weren’t allowed to have a cookie before supper.

“Fine, but soon it won’t just be Y/N I have to convince to forgive me.”

Remus, completely unsympathetic to his boyfriend’s grumblings, smirked as he took out his homework.

“Well, perhaps that’s what you get for acting like your father.”

Regulus let out a very inelegant groan and let his head fall onto the table with a thunk.

Everyone had their person, for better or for worse. Sirius had James, Regulus had Pandora, Remus had Lily, and you...well, you had Barty.

And perhaps whatever Barty lacked in terms of critical thinking skills and sanity, he made up for in terms of loyalty and enthusiasm.

You knocked on the door to Barty’s dorm from the hallway when you heard a muffled “occupado!” through the wood.

“Barty? It's me.” You called quietly, hearing the sound of a locking charm being lifted from the door immediately.

You pushed open the door to see Barty laying back against his pillow with a cigarette in his hand and Evan Rosier laying on top of him with a book as he read.

“Hiya, treasure. Where’d ya leave Reggie?” Barty asked, blowing smoke away from Evan’s book.

“We got into a fight.” You admitted quietly.

Suddenly, Barty’s cigarette was flicked towards the fireplace and Evan was, very roughly and unceremoniously, dumped from his lap.

“Ah! Fuckin’ hells Junior, what was that for?” Evan muttered as he rubbed the back of his head, standing from his newfound place on the floor.

“Out! I need time with my beloved!” Barty squawked, sitting up further against the headboard and opening his arms for you as an invitation.

“Wha- what do you mean? I’m your sodding boyfriend!” Evan beseeched. Barty spared the boy a glance at that.

“Exactly, you’re only my boyfriend, Y/N is my soulmate. Now out with you.” He dismissed, returning his eyes to you.

You (somewhat meekly as you passed Evan) made your way over and crawled into Barty’s lap as Evan let himself out of the dorm room (his own dorm room, mind you).

“Alright, my sweet treasure, spill. What are his crimes?” He murmured into the top of your head.

“He yelled at me.” You said meekly, voice turning up at the end as you felt tears well in your eyes.

“Dementor’s kiss.” He proclaimed without hesitation. “Egregious, absolutely horrific crime.”

“Barty...” You moaned.

“What? I’m not kidding, I want him dead. Yelling at my sweet girl like that. For shame.”

You let out a sigh as the first few tears fell onto Barty’s shirt. You knew he was seriously hurt on your behalf for not saying anything about ruining his silk button up.

“What reason could he possibly have had to yell at you?” He murmured again into your hair, rocking you back and forth.

“I fainted... in class today.” You admitted with a grimace.

As you expected, Barty paused in his movements and lifted you up off of his body to examine you.

“Fainted!?” He hollered. “How, treasure?”

You groaned and leaned forward, wanting to hide your face in Barty’s chest again. Thankfully, he allowed you to do so.

“I don’t know...Madame Pomfrey said it could be a few things. Not enough sleep, not eating enough, stress.”

“And he yelled at you for that?”

“Well...sort of.”

Barty hummed in acknowledgement but allowed you to sit in silence as he rubbed circles onto your back.

“He was mad because he found out from Pandora.” You admitted.

“Hmm, sounds like Regulus felt stupid. Not an easy task, sweets, Salazar knows I’ve tried.” Barty determined.

“How do you mean?” you asked into his chest.

“He just always seems to know the answers when I-”

“Not that, Barty!”

“He didn’t know you had fainted, and it sounds like he perhaps didn’t even realize you were unwell. He would have thought that made him look like a fool, which it does.” He explained, lacing the words at the end of his sentence with disdain.

“Barty...” you chided.

“I mean, come on treasure; you have two boyfriends, and one of them is a Slytherin! You’re telling me neither of them noticed their most perfect, sweetest angel was struggling? Foolish. You can’t blame Lupin, though, he is a Gryffindor after all; hanging with the likes of those oafs ought to cost him a couple brain cells each day. Hey, listen... you say the word and you and Lupin are more than welcome to shack up with me and Evan.”

“Barty!”

“I’m just saying!” He yielded, holding his hands up in surrender. His faux-serious façade fell away when he noticed the corner of your lips quirk into a smile.

“I’m sorry he yelled at you.” He offered.

You half sighed half groaned as you fell back into Barty’s chest.

“I guess he was just worried about me...” You relented.

“Yes. But don’t make it easy on him, okay? It’s fun to see the sod sweat every now and again.”

“Regulus...I don’t know if this is a good idea. I really think we should let her come to us.” Remus muttered quietly from behind Regulus, but he wasn’t having any of it.

This had gone on too long, in Regulus’ opinion. You were hiding in Barty’s dorm room whilst Regulus stayed in Remus’, and while he loved Remus, he hated Gryffindor, and he missed you.

“Enough is enough, Remus. I want her back.” Regulus declared as he stepped up to his door and banged on the back of it none too gently.

“Junior!” He barked through the door. “I want my girlfriend back!”

“No one’s home!” Barty called through the door.

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back into his head even he was sure they were going to get stuck there.

He put his hand on the door handle and was hit immediately with a localized stinging jinx, causing him to rip his hand back off of it and hold it to his chest protectively.

“Ow! Fuck Junior, what did you do!?” He called through the door.

“Leave a message!”

“Oh, I’ll leave you a message alright.” Regulus spat.

“Dovey?” Remus tried calling gently through the door. “Can we come in? Please?”

It was quiet for a moment before Barty answered for you. “No.”

Remus shared an eyeroll of his own before cautiously touching the doorknob – apparently it had only been cursed against Regulus.

“Okay, I’m opening the door.” Remus warned.

“I wouldn’t do that! I’m shagging your girl in here.” Barty called.

Regulus watched Remus’ face and knew two things to be true: that Remus was 97% sure that wasn’t true, and that Moony was very worried about that 3%. Ultimately, it appeared that Moony had won, causing Remus to barrel into the room rather ungraciously.

Barty was sat in a chair with his feet kicked up on a desk and a book in his hand, which he lowered to examine the two intruders casually.

“That was very rude, you know. What would you have done if the lady had been indecent.” Barty scolded, using his book to point at your curled up form on Regulus’ bed, pointedly facing away from Remus and Regulus.

Regulus felt his heart crack painfully at the sight, sharing a look with Remus who gave him an encouraging nod.

“Amour?” Regulus called gently, moving around the side of the bed in an attempt to see you. His heart cracked again when you hid your face in your arm.

“Please, my love. I’m...I’m so sorry.” He pleaded, kneeling down in front of you and cautiously stroking your arm. “I should never have spoken to you like that, I...I was wrong. And rude. And out of line. I’m sorry. Please? Please look at me, mon amour, laisse-moi arranger ça?”

You turned your head up at that, and the final splinter that carved Regulus’ heart into two was the tear stains on your cheeks.

“Oh, mon amour, je suis vraiment désolé. Je suis le pire, je suis vraiment désolé.”

“Your fancy sweet talk won’t do you any good here, Black!” Barty hollered from his place across the room. “I’ve already told her that she and Lupin are more than welcome down here with me.” He added with a lascivious wink in Remus’ direction.

Regulus could see Remus’ cheeks pink at the compliment, but he also gulped at the threat.

“Say it ain’t so, mon amour.” He said to you, caressing your arm with one hand and delicately taking yours in his other, bringing it to his lips for a delicate kiss. “Is it finally happening, are you going to leave me for another? Surely you can do better than Junior, non?”

Regulus’ heart sped up almost double time as you offered him a watery smile. “No.”

“No? You can’t do better than Junior?” He teased.

You rolled your eyes as you sniffled and tried to wipe some of your tears away. “No, I’m not leaving you, you sod.”

“Oh, thank gods.” Regulus sighed dramatically, letting his head fall into the bed in front of him. He heard you chuckle above him, and you moved your hand into his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“Oi! How come he gets head scratches for being a wanker and I get jilted?” Remus pouted from the middle of the room.

“Oh, come here lover boy.” Barty cooed at him, opening his arms and spreading his legs to make room from the lycanthrope.

Remus let out an awkward ‘erm’ from the middle of the room before you chuckled and invited Remus to join you for his own head scratches.

He opted to curl up behind you as the big spoon and wrap his arms protectively around your middle, adding his hand to Regulus’ shoulder as he still knelt on the floor at the head of the bed. Perhaps not the best angle for head scratches, but he was clearly very happy with his current predicament.

“Right then; have either of you tossers seen Rosier?” Barty asked as he stood from his chair.

“Common room.” Remus and Regulus answered in unison.

“Thanks.” He said as he made his way to the door. “Stay out of the bathroom for a while, yeah? I owe that sod so many blowjobs after all of this.”

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #remus lupin x regulus black #moonwater #poly!moonwater #poly!moonwater x reader #poly!moonwater x you #ellecdc fics

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pepsichrry · 7 months

Text

Ride Pt. 2 || Theodore F. Nott

Summary: Your relationship with Theo escalates further

Set after the Battle of Hogwarts!

Warnings: Sexual content, Smut, Mentions of violence, Theo is in love, Theo is obsessed with his wife!!

—————————————————————————

The spring had flourished into summer almost overnight, giving way to the birth of the sunlight and the heat that came with it. The Nott family home had grown more and more familiar as these days passed and you hoped that it would continue.

Things had shifted around the house, and not just because of the change in weather. You and Theodore finally began to align like rigid puzzle pieces. What was once a secret glance became a staring contest, being in the same room became sitting together and rooms on the other side of the house became Theo sneaking into your bed each night and staying to just be with you.

You soon became comfortable with the marriage, allowing Theo to shadow you around the house from time to time or even to sleep in your bed with you, sometimes you even allowed him to distract you from your reading and eat fruit with you on the lawn. As your relationship bloomed, you thought back to the very night that broke the silence.

It had become a regular occurrence now for Theo to spread you over your bedsheets and burying his head between your thighs. But that was all. Even as the months passed by, he hadn’t asked for anything more from you, only to sleep beside you and watch you as you slept. You obliged, not minding the company. You grew used to the familiar creaking of floorboards and the gentle nudges against your skin as he slipped into what was now his side of the bed.

But something urged you further than your new routine, to find out the extent of what could be done. You wanted to know what it felt like to be completely and utterly full with him, body and soul.

So, when he finally crept into your room in the dead of night, worshipped by the dim lick of candlelight, you were already waiting for him. His deep blue eyes watched you like he never had before, sensing the shift in the air. As he got closer, you sat up, looking over the expanse of his body. His hard chest was blanketed by a soft jumper which made him all the more comfortable than he already was, and his legs were clothed in a simple pair of sweats, ready for bed. It may have not been all that enticing, but the sight of him always seemed to drive you crazy. There was something about him so siren-like, so enchanting.

“You’re awake?” He asked you with his smooth voice and cheeky smile. You nodded, waiting for him to get closer so you could finally reach out to him. “I thought you’d be asleep, I didn’t mean to wake you, Bella.”

He drew your duvet back and climbed into bed with you, lying flat on his back with his hands over his middle. You turned to him.

Bringing a gentle hand to his head, you brushed his stray curls from his forehead as he watched you with tired eyes. He happily reciprocated your soft kisses as his eyelashes fluttered against your cheekbones and he breathed in your air.

You couldn’t stop, you needed him. You needed to drink every ounce of him up, you needed to feel him all over you, you needed his soft hands to touch you and hold you to him. It was as though, suddenly, you were overcome by desperation, or better yet, adoration.

He sighed softly, fanning soft air onto you as one of his hands cupped your neck, the other finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him still. You gladly obliged, pressing your chest against his and kissing him like he was your final breath, your only lifeline.

Theo felt giddy at the sudden attention on him. Your experimental hand dragged over his chest and slowly down over his stomach. He couldn’t help but squirm in anticipation at the idea of your hand trialling any lower. Your fingers entwined in the waistband of his sweats and you ran your fingertips lightly over the edge of the fabric.

By the sounds that he was making, you could tell that he needed you just as much you needed him.

Your pinky preached the top of his bottoms and ran over the slowly tanning skin of his abdomen as he kissed over your cheek and jaw. His pillowy lips traced over the curve of your jaw, leaving hot and damp hair to travel down your neck as his breath began to deepen upon your fingers trailing beneath his bottoms.

You pulled back, the ghost of your lips hovered over his as you watched for his reaction as your fingers began to brush over the tiny curls at the base of his cock. Slowly, they came into contact with the ache that Theo so desperately wanted to ignore, until your smooth hands were wrapped around it, he could have died on the spot.

His head flew back against the pillow, his eyes shut and his brows pulled into a deep frown, not of perplexity, but of utter pleasure. Your grip tightened ever so slightly around the thickness of his dick and he keened from where he lay. His mouth tipped open, so you opted to kiss around the apples of his cheeks, over every mole and dimple, further down over his neck and in the sickly sweet spot behind his ear, whispering for him to take off his top.

Theo couldn’t help but shiver as he peeled off his jumper, revealing him to the cool air and your piercing gaze. Every inch of his gorgeous skin was kissed by the sun, leaving freckles and birthmarks in its wake. You made sure to do the same, bending your head to press your lips against the moles on his collarbones. Theo sighed softly as you began to work your hand as best as you could whilst it was restricted by the fabric of his underwear, the sound carrying through the room. Merlin, he hadn’t even taken the rest of his clothing yet, but you felt him in the place where you needed him most, and he was big.

His slender hand soothed over your back as you sucked light purple bruises into his chest and neck while you pumped at his cock, encouraging you to do something, anything further. He didn’t know if he could take any more anticipation. He’d been waiting for you to allow him the chance to sink into you at last, but he was so desperate and pussy-whipped that anything would do. He waited patiently and happily for his climax and inevitably cumming in his pants again, until you slipped your hand back out of his underwear.

You looked up at him with desire on your face and he knew what you’d ask. “Take these off.” You told him and he obeyed.

Theo thought you could ask him anything and he’d obey, just like a slave to your command, not that he’d mind. It was just one of the many things he’d do for you in order to satisfy you.

He lay before you, nearly bare except for his underwear which did nothing to conceal the embarrassingly obvious fact of his need. His chest lifted up and down as his lungs worked double time and you eyed him admiringly. Despite the hardness beneath his boxers, you gently squeezed him through the fabric, enjoying the tortured whine he gave out.

You hushed him sweetly, rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip with a grin. His eyes lit up with desperation. You booked a finger beneath the band of his boxers, yanking them firmly, and with his help, he became entirely exposed to you. You still wore your nightgown, which he eyed hopefully, but you made no move to take it off just then.

The lower you took your body, the higher Theo’s heart rate became, until your face was just above his crotch and he swore that he felt his heart stop. Testing the waters, your hand wrapped around him once again and brought your mouth down to place a teasing kiss over the tip of his dick. He puffed out a breath that he never knew he was holding and entangled a hand in your hair.

Slowly, you grazed the underside of his cock with your tongue, trailing over the soft skin with ease, wetting it with your saliva. You continued to do so, each time your tongue met the tip, you’d broaden your tongue and do the same thing over again as he grew more and more restless each time. You placed a reassuring hand on his thigh as they began to tremble and your thumb rubbed the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, dangerously close to the curve of his balls. His head pressed harshly into the pillows behind him as he panted.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you took the very tip of his dick into your lips, surprising you at how much bigger he was than you thought. You sucked, hard, and he let out a deep moan at the sensation. It was an unusual situation to you, but you found that you could learn quickly about what he liked, so you continued to suck. Your hand pumped his length as you suckled and licked at his tip, gaining confidence as his noises grew louder.

His cock began to throb and his balls tightened, the only warning he was able to give being the grip on your hair clamping down. That was when you pulled off of him with a ‘pop’.

“But- Wh-“ He began, but you cut him off with a kiss, enjoying how quick he was to melt into your sudden affection.

You didn’t give him long to ponder as you slipped your nightgown over your head, revealing your naked body for him to see. His intense gaze lingered over your chest before it trailed down to your wet pussy. You supposed he was half expecting for you to sit on his face like you often did, but you took him by surprise when you asked him:

“Are you gonna let me fuck you?”

Of course he was, how couldn’t he? All he’d wanted since he saw you in the big white dress at the wedding was to take you to bed and make love to you. And now that you were finally going to allow him the honour? How could he say no?

“Merlin, yes!” He rasped, watching you as you swung a leg over his hips as though mounting a horse. His eyes didn’t know where to look, so they raked over you as he prepared for you to take him.

You smiled sweetly, leaning down to peck his lips with your own. You took him into your hand and dragged his tip over your soaked folds; you had no idea how much pleasure it gave you to hear him whine. Finally, you lined his tip up against where you needed him most and sunk down onto him.

Theo felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him, you were right above him, as beautiful as the sun and the sky and he’d never felt such bliss. For a second, he swore he saw heaven.

That was until you started to move, and he was rendered powerless against the pleasure you were giving him. He moaned fully now, head twisting into the pillow as though it would give him some relief to be rid of the sight of you. He couldn’t take it, he was sure to come just by looking at you. His mouth was hung open as though he was screaming in agony, except he was only tensing in pure unbridled pleasure.

His length hit against the most dangerous of angles inside of you, sending shocks up your spine as you clenched around him. The twinge of pain you’d felt at the initial stretch had quickly subsided as you began to bounce on top of him and was replaced by a blinding blood rush to your head. You felt dizzy, only it was in the best way possible.

With each brush against his skin, your clit was stimulated, forcing you to let out a sigh each time. He poured every inch of his soul into yours with every breath he took, watching you like a lifetime of his memories and future all at once, worshipping at your altar of your goddess. He’d serve you, he’d obey, he’d care for you, if you allowed him.

You let out a loud cry as his hips jolted from the bed, pressing against your cervix in a sudden pain, though it soon dissipated, soothing into sparks of pleasure. He forced his weight off of the bed in time with you, encased to the hilt of his cock in your soft pussy. And with every meeting of your hips, the warmth in your belly loosened, allowing you to steal bursts of pleasure for your body. Heat throbbed over your body and your heart pounded, you were so close.

And then it stopped. Theo pulled you off of him with a firm grip, eyes wide, pupils dilated. He looked almost feral as you frowned up at him as he took his place above you. Without wasting a second, his lips were on you, trailing over your chest and sucking your nipples into his mouth.

His hand lowered down to where you needed him the most, guiding his painfully hard dick into your tight entrance, sighing as you squeezed him to nicely. The softness of his hair on your sternum, the kindness of his hands and the noises he made, it was all taking its toll on you. You were surrounded by him, his arms encasing you, the warmth from his body still on the sheets that you rested against, his dick inside of you. He was everything in that moment.

The slapping of skin filled the air as he drove his hips harder and faster with each pull of your charm. He let out a choked sigh as he pounded into you, chasing his high more desperately than he ever had. His constant motion made you clench around him, feeling your orgasm creep up through your spine.

“Theo!” You gasped, and he responded with a pitiful whimper. He’d dreamed about the way that you’d cry his name, about this very situation. It was feeling so real, so much. He couldn’t help but be dragged closer to the edge.

He buried his hot face into your hair, moaning with each thrust of his hips, his feet pushing against the sheets to look for any way to sink deeper into you.

Your body erupted with the winding of warmth and unbearable pleasure. Your orgasm washed over you like a tide as Theo’s body met your own. You tensed and it was like nothing you’d ever felt before, your thighs shook from where they were wrapped around his hips and your hand clawed at his scalp like you could pull yourself up from the fire of hell. But nothing felt better than the flames licking at your skin.

He couldn’t help but feel bus eyes water with tears as he so desperately wanted to scream. His climax hit him like a brick straight to the face, so much that he could hardly feel his own body. He tried to cry out, but it was as though you had complete control over his body as you shared your pleasure like treasured goods.

You felt him still, pushing into you as much as he could. That was when you felt him spill into you, a kind of warmth pouring into you, you realised that he’d just come inside of you, not that you minded. His skin was moist as he slipped his weight on top of you, and every inch of you was now touching him. You could get used to it.

You wondered if his nightly visits would escalate to this in the future. You certainly hoped so.

pt.1

#harry potter #harry potter fic #theodore nott #sub! theo nott #theodore nott one shot #theo nott one shot #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #switch!theo nott #smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott x you

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misslovasstuff · 8 months

Text

Prompt: When you tell them you’re in the mood

content: how do they react? Are they sweet and all? mhmmm.... warning: contains nsfw paired with: Sanji, Law and Sabo author’s note: pretty blonds and an emo boy sheeeesh

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Sanji

It’s not a new occurrence that you find yourself in Sanji’s arms, being saved from an enemy’s attack. However today, perhaps because you’re completely conscious, your wondering eyes stare at your dangerously handsome rescuer;

His shirt had undone buttons, revealing a part of his bare chest along with his collarbone. His hair fell partly on his face but never aimed to cover his neck: fit and wide, dripping a bit in sweat. Pretty lips remain open as he gasps for air. Sanji keeps a tight grip on your shoulder and thigh as he carries you in his arms, eyes analysing and scanning where you two could hide for a moment.

“Damn it!” - he unleashes his tie aggressively, his anger evident from people chasing the both of you.

You knew… goodness of course you knew this could never be a good time but; Sanji is so fucking hot right now. Irresistible hot. And this anger he portrays from time to time it turns you on instantly, no matter how embarrassing it is to admit.

“Sanji…”- you reach for his collar, pulling it down so he could lean in closer to your face. Those blue eyes of his looking at you so innocently and worriedly, changing completely from the intensity they were holding just a second ago.

He hums in response, attentively listening to what you had to say.

“I’m in the mood.” - your voice low and needy makes the blond blush immediately. He widens his eyes and shakes his head with a smile. Did he hear that right or was it his imagination?

“Sweetheart, how could you possibly be turned on in this situati-

Sanji gazes down at you pressing your chest against his, a view that always makes him weak in the knees. You place your hand at his which is grabbing your thigh, pressing it even further into your flesh. Then you slide it swiftly at your ass whilst dragging your lips on his neck.

“Fuck, - it didn’t take long for Sanji to make a decision. he cusses, stopping almost immediately to look at the surroundings in an even bigger hurry. He runs with you in his arms until he finds an alley where he was certain you wouldn’t be found. He takes one last turn while changing the position he was holding your precious body that he would punish anyone if they even left a small scar on your golden skin. You smile at how quick your man was to react to your needs and obviously at some point, his too.

Now your hands are over his shoulders, front body pressed agasint his as his hands are holding you from behind. Just like that, he pushes you agasint the wall, breathing heavily. Your lips clash with his into a passionate, hungry, soul-sucking kiss as your hands caress the back of his neck. You moan in his mouth when Sanji takes a better hold of your legs, pushing his lower body closer to you.

“Promised to be always on your rescue, didn’t I, love?” - you breath for air as Sanji grabs your ass and slaps it, biting your ear as he whispers:

“Such a naughty girl to get turned on like this, telling me such lewd things in the middle of the battle- his breath tingles your neck and you tighten the grip you have on his shoulders. - i see you wanted another kind of saving.”

Law

“There are things I want to do and say to you…”

Law furrows his eyebrows, not really getting where you’re coming from, however it does not take him long to notice your body language and how you are obviously in the heat.

“Hm. Is that so? Can you be more specific?” - it was so obvious now that he wanted to tease you, make you say those needy words to him face to face. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction, however your desire is bigger than your pride right now.

“I’m… im in the mood, Law.” - you confess, looking down and shutting our eyes close due to the embarrassment.

As you are, you feel a warm hand around your waist pulling you closer.

“Cute. - he says with a cheeky smile, lowering his head to face you up close. - thats why you came to see me?”

You nod and he gives you that satisfying smirk that had become a weakness of yours. His eyes sparkle in a different way now as his gaze is fixated on yours. After a brief moment of silence, Law caresses your shoulder with his hand as he approaches and whispers in your ear:

“You and I, at the back deck, now.”

It’s hard to say no to that low voice that sent shivers down your body and that warm hand which has grabbed yours, guiding you exactly where he wants. Law sits down on a chair, his expression unreadable.

“Sit.” - he demands and you swallow hard, sitting on his thigh. Your hands travel to his bare chest, hesitating to caress it. Law grabs your hand, kissing it and pressing it agasint his heart.

“Smart girl, - he gazes down your legs and the pretty skirt you’re wearing. His curious hands soon figure out that that pretty skirt is all you’re wearing down there. - very smart.”

“Law…” - your voice shakes when you call him, feeling his hand going lower and lower your body.

“Quiet now…”- His fingers tease your entrance, rubbing your lips up and down while you moan in his ear.

“Is this what you were in the mood for?” - he asks with a cheeky grin.

“I… - you shyly hide your face in the nape of his neck. - …yes.”

His fingers were doing for you what all other men couldn’t, getting you on edge.

“More… more…” - you manage to blurt out, grabbing onto his hair and pulling them slightly. Law sucks his teeth in, letting out a cheeky laugh.

“You want more? - his fingers are now inside you, pumping in and out at an agonising low speed. He is not only fucking you physically but mentally as well with this much teasing.

“You’re quite the sadist for a doctor.” - you exclaim, riding his fingers as your hips start moving on their own.

“I tend to fit in with my patient’s needs.” - he cups your cheek with his other hand, pulling you in. - Let me take care of all your needs.”

Law kisses you gently, biting your lower lip as the pace of his fingers fastens.

“What…were the things you wanted to tell me…?”- the air is so hot and you’re both breathing heavily. Yet you manage to give a reply to the man who’s making you lose your mind with his fingers only.

“I… wanted to tell you that I … you… you are always in my mind and lately I just… couldn’t stop thinking of you doing… unspeakable things to me…” - your moans get louder as Law takes a strong grip on your hip.

“Ah, if we’re confessing then, I wanted to do this with you too, for a while now.” - he claims, pulling you closer and dragging his lips on your shoulder.

“You want to…do those unspeakable things to me?”- you ask, smirking while trying to catch your breath.

“You were such a good girl for telling me you were in the mood so I’ll do any position you have been fantasising about. You won yourself an all night-fucking and trust me, you won’t be speaking much, your mouth will be occupied with other things.”

Sabo

“Something is off about you tonight, isn’t it?” - the blond asks, titling his head to meet your eyes but you avoid his gaze.

“What makes you say that?” - his scent overwhelms your senses, making your mind foggy but yet you remain somehow composed.

“Well for starters, - Sabo paces forward and stops in front of you. - You’ve been avoiding your boyfriend all day. Even now you’re going to who knows where.”

He grabs your chin, glancing shortly at your lips then at your eyes.

“Beautiful…- he whispers, getting lost in your gaze for a moment before continuing. - You are completely red in the face.”

Sabo strikes your cheek gently with the back of his hand. Your quick blinking and lip bite hits the bells on his head. Surely, you would have not been needy and not tell him about it, right?

“Look at me. - he demands, putting strands of hair behind your ear, his voice low and breathy. He tries not to surrender to your pretty gaze so he swallows hard, Sabo himself turning a bit red at the thought of what you could possibly want from him. - tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

He brushes off the hair off your shoulder, placing small gentle kisses there.

“Tell me… - his breath hits your skin and sends shivers down your spine.

“Sabo, - you answer with a shaky voice, almost letting out a moan when he pulls you in by your waist with one hand, continuing kissing your neck ever so softly. - I’ve been so needy the whole day. I’m in the mood for us to-

A bite on the nape of your neck makes you leave out a gasp, grabbing onto your lover’s arms as he begins unbuttoning your shirt.

“What were you thinking not telling me, huh? - his hand now gropes your chest, making you unable to answer properly. You wanted to tell him that there shouldn’t have been any distractions for his work so you just, stayed away. - Fuck, baby I’m so sorry for not noticing. But if it helps, I’m always needy of you, like all the time.”

You chuckle, pushing your head backwards as Sabo conquers your chest with kisses, bites and so many powerful sensations all while holding you close to him.

“Must be hard then?”- you ask, referring to what he just said but your boyfriend looks down on himself and then smirks at you.

“Ooff, it’s just what you do to me, sweetheart. Take pride in that. Just you saying you want me gets my being completely under your control.”

The stare he has on you becimes irresistible, pulling him in a kiss as your hand reaches the belt of his pants.

“I want you, Sabo.” - he whimpers, watching every action of yours.

“Oh, if you talk to me like that, - Sabo hovers over you, stripping his clothes off. - I’m going to make it up for a whole day lack of fucking.”

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theostrophywife · 8 months

Text

darling, you look divine.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: eyes don't lie by isabel larosa.

author's note: screaming, crying, throwing up. if regulus looked at me like that, i'd be wetter than the black lake. please enjoy my darlings 🤎

The first symptom reared its ugly head early Monday morning.

You were in the Great Hall eating breakfast with James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter when your skin suddenly felt like you were being engulfed by fiendfyre. The burning heat spread through your entire body, making you feel flushed and flustered. Your fork clattered against the table while you wiped the sweat off of your brow with clammy hands.

��Are you feeling alright, love?” asked Sirius.

You shook your head, fanning yourself. “Does anyone else feel hot all of a sudden? It feels like I’m getting burned alive.”

The boys shook their heads. Remus laid the back of his hand against your forehead. “You’re burning up, Y/N. I think you might be pitching a fever.”

James pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and squinted. “Moony’s right. You’re sweating profusely and you look a bit peaked.”

Peter nodded in agreement. “It might be that new dragon flu that’s going around. Maybe you should head back to the dorms, Y/N.”

“I can’t miss class. There’s an assignment due in Transfiguration.”

Just then, a violent cramp seized your lower abdomen. You gripped the edge of the dining table so hard that you felt the wood splinter underneath your palm. Padfoot’s eyes widened at the appearance of your claws. It had only been a month since Sirius helped you summon your Animagus form and while you still had much to learn, you’ve never lost control like this before.

You needed to get out of there. Transforming into a giant snow leopard in the middle of the Great Hall would be very, very bad.

“Don’t worry about McGonagall,” Sirius said in a stern voice. “We’ll cover for you. Now come on, I’ll walk you back to your room.”

Fortunately, you managed to reach Gryffindor tower with no other incidents. After Sirius escorted you back to your dorm, he barred the door with magic and promised to check up on you after class.

The cramps only worsened. It felt like someone had buried a dagger into your stomach and was now twisting and turning it as they pleased. You doubled over in pain and clutched the poster of your canopy bed before curling up into a ball in the middle of your mattress. Not even your period cramps compared to this torment.

When you thought it couldn’t get any worse, an overwhelming ache blossomed between your thighs and made you groan with need. You twisted in your sheets and pressed your legs together to counteract the wave of lust coursing through your veins, but it only made it worse. You felt empty and hollow and the overwhelming desire to be filled was the only thing you could think about.

This was different from the surge of adolescent hormones that you had grown so familiar with. The desire was a living thing, sinking its claws into your very being. You felt feral, animalistic.

You burrowed into your pillows, your breaths growing ragged as you tried to regain control. A demanding knock against your door broke your concentration. You sniffed the air, whining softly as the intoxicating scent of eucalyptus, bergamot, and sandalwood overpowered your heightened senses. A part of you recalled the warning Sirius left you with. You were not, under any circumstances, supposed to open the door unless it was him or one of the boys on the other side, but the temptation was too strong.

As the knocks grew more insistent, the scent shifted into something sharper. You felt yourself drawn to it and before long, you were opening the door to satiate your curiosity. The person standing on the other side made your stomach lurch.

“Regulus,” you said through gritted teeth. The very presence of the younger Black brother made your entire body shake as you contended against the urge to transform. It was a losing battle. You could feel your canines elongating, making your gums feel sore and achy. “Now is not a good time.”

In fact, it was the worst bloody fucking time. On a normal day, you could barely tolerate Regulus. His surly attitude and cutting glare certainly left little to be desired. Then there was the matter of his falling out with Sirius, which only served to heighten the tension between you. When Professor McGonagall chose to make you partners, you at least attempted to keep things civil. Whatever was going on between your best friend and his younger brother was none of your business, but Regulus had practically made it impossible to stay impartial.

You had never met a broodier, haughtier, snootier arsehole than Regulus Arcturus Black. The pureblood prick acted like he was a prince amongst peasants just because he happened to be born into the right bloodline. Yet a muggleborn like yourself had managed to take the top spot in every class. A spot that previously belonged to him.

To be expected, Regulus wasn’t the least bit pleased about this. He was even less thrilled when McGonagall tasked him to drop off the latest lecture notes so that you wouldn’t fall behind in class. If she hadn’t threatened to deduct points from his house for refusing, Regulus would’ve never set foot in the godforsaken lion’s den.

He pushed his way inside, not bothering to wait for a proper invitation. “Here are the notes from class,” Regulus stated stiffly. “We’re required to transform a thimble into a thestral. I suggest you read up. I’ll not have you dragging me down just because you fancied playing hooky for the day.”

“I’m not skipping for the bloody hell of it,” you snapped. “If I had a choice, I would be in class not doubled over in pain—”

Regulus caught you just before you hit the ground. The dizzy spell had come out of nowhere, nearly knocking you to the floor from the sheer force of its effects. As Regulus snaked his arm around your waist, you almost wished it had. His scent hit you all at once. You whimpered as he tucked you against his side, feeling the heat of his touch even under all your layers of clothing.

The ringing in your ears subsided enough for you to hear the panic in Regulus’ voice. “Y/N, can you hear me? Are you alright?”

You pushed him off with what little strength remained in your body. “Thank you for the notes, but I’d appreciate it if you left.”

“No,” Regulus said.

“What do you mean, no?

“I mean, no. Do you want to hear it in French? Non.”

You frowned, clutching your stomach. The cramps were starting again, but it was different this time. The ache in your lower abdomen was excruciating and your current proximity to Regulus only seemed to make it worse. The slickness between your thighs certainly didn’t help the matter. It was humiliating, plain and simple.

“Get the fuck out, Regulus!”

Regulus caught your wrist. His fingers felt like ice against your overheated skin. “You don’t want that, darling. Not when I’m the only person who can help.”

“You know what’s wrong with me?”

He sighed. “Of course my brother would convince you to turn without thinking about the side effects. Classic Sirius, honestly.” You glared at him to get on with it. “You’re in heat, Y/N.”

You grimaced. There was no way in Godric’s green earth. “Like…a cat?”

Regulus smirked. “Is that what you transform into, little kitten?” You pursed your lips, which caused him to roll his eyes. “Please, I know your merry band of misfits have all conjured an animagus form. There’s no use hiding it. So what are you? A fuzzy little Persian cat?”

“No,” you said rather haughtily. Did he have to be so irritating? “My form is a snow leopard.”

“Still a kitten,” he responded with a shit eating grin. “The same rules apply. You’ll be in heat for at least a week, mon chaton.”

“You mean I have to suffer for seven whole days? This is hell. It feels like my uterus is being ripped apart. How am I supposed to endure this pain for an entire week?”

“Well, there are ways to find relief.”

“What kind of ways?”

Regulus gave you a knowing look. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out. What’s the purpose of heat?”

“Reproduction,” you answered almost instantly. The realization left your mouth before your brain could even process it. Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was some sort of cruel joke. For Merlin’s fucking sake! This was horrifying. Downright humiliating. “You can’t possibly mean…”

The grin on the stupid twat’s face was growing wider by the second. “You don’t necessarily have to have sex,” he said in an amused tone. “An orgasm will do. I’m sure you can manage that with your fingers, can’t you princess?”

You swallowed thickly. “I—I’ve never—“

Was it possible to die from embarrassment? Discussing the details of your sex life would’ve been humiliating under any circumstance, but this? Standing here, telling Regulus fucking Black what you were about to tell him, this was truly rock bottom.

“Don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

“No!” you snapped. You’ve had your fair share of experience in that department, no matter how awkward they might’ve been. “I’ve had sex, I just haven’t…”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” Regulus said, entirely perplexed. “Not even once?”

You crossed your arms defensively, which turned out to be a big mistake. On top of everything else that you were already suffering through, your breasts now felt sore and sensitive.

“No,” you conceded with a sigh. “I don’t need you judging me for it either, so if you’re quite done then please get the bloody hell out of my dorm.”

It may have been your imagination, but you could’ve sworn that Regulus softened just a little bit. He at least loosened his grip on your wrist, rubbing up your arm in a gesture that might’ve been soothing if it weren’t coming from him.

“I’m not judging you. If anything, I’m judging whoever it is that failed to make you finish. It’s quite rude to leave a lady unsatisfied.”

“What would you even know about satisfying a woman, Regulus?”

“Trust me, darling. I know plenty.” Your cheeks heated as he traced circles on your forearm. “Tell me, kitten. Have you ever touched yourself?”

The conversation should have ended there. You should’ve put a stop to it. But this bloody fucking heat was doing strange things to your body. Your hormones were out of control and Regulus was standing way too close for comfort. So close that you could see the little golden flecks in his emerald eyes. So close that one of his curls was tickling your cheek. So close that those full, pillowy lips were mere inches away from your own.

He smirked when your gaze dipped down to his mouth. “My eyes are up here, Y/N and I asked you a question. The polite thing to do is answer.”

“Since when have you ever cared about being polite?”

“I don’t, but I think you and I are playing a very dangerous game here and I quite enjoy sparring with you, ma cherie.” Regulus tilted your chin up and cradled your jaw. “So, have you or have you not touched yourself?”

You glared up at him defiantly; a last ditch effort to keep your dignity intact. “No,” you said with your head held high. “I’ve never touched myself and I’ve never had an orgasm. Are you happy now, Regulus?”

“Quite the opposite,” he murmured. Regulus caressed your bottom lip with his thumb and tilted his head back to study you. His eyes were almost black when they flickered back up to meet yours. “I could teach you.”

“You want to teach me how to…”

“Masturbate. Wank. Get yourself off?” Regulus listed matter-of-factly. “Yes. Yes, I do, ma chérie.”

It should’ve been a no-brainer. This was a terrible, horrible fucking idea. An absolute hot mess that would yield calamitous results, but the ache in your core was too painful to ignore and you were willing to try just about anything to find relief. Including trusting someone you absolutely loathed.

“Fine. You can teach me, but that’s it. None of this goes any further than that.”

Regulus smirked. “I won’t touch you, princess. Not until you beg me to.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “So?”

He nodded behind you. “Get on the bed.”

That was easy enough. You crawled into your mattress and sat cross legged on top of your sheets. “Not like that. Lie down on your back and take those ghastly pajamas off.”

Arsehole. You happened to like your red and gold striped bottoms, but to be fair, they were in the way. The mattress dipped beneath him as Regulus positioned himself at the very edge of the bed. He leaned against the wooden poster, his gaze transfixed on the sight before him.

“I wouldn’t have taken you as a red lace lingerie type of girl, mon chaton.” You frowned in response, which only made him chuckle. “As pretty as those panties are, you’ll need to take them off as well.”

You hesitated, hooking your thumb over the waistband of your knickers. Regulus raised a brow as if he were challenging you to back out. Like he half-expected you to be too scared to continue. He seriously underestimated that infamous brashness that Gryffindors were so well known for.

He inhaled sharply as you slipped out of your panties and tossed the discarded lace next to him. “Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

For once, you kept silent and did what you were told. Regulus nodded tightly. “Wider. Yeah, just like that.”

“What now?” you asked, trying to keep yourself from blushing at this totally undignified position. You were way past embarrassment now.

“Run a finger through your folds,” Regulus said, his voice sounding huskier than it did a second ago. He watched with dark eyes as you stroked your core. “Fuck, you’re soaked. I can see it on your fingers.”

You took a deep breath, feeling that tension coil in your lower abdomen. Every fiber of your being buzzed with lust. “Stroke yourself, kitten. Imagine that it’s someone else touching you.”

With your eyes closed, you let his voice guide you through the steps. You hated to admit it, but he was good at this. “Use your own slick to make it easier, darling. Gather it before rubbing your clit. That’s it, just like that. There’s a good girl.”

The words spurred you on, your fingers working that sensitive bundle of nerves to find release. You could feel the budding orgasm. It was spreading through you, setting your teeth on edge. You were close, so close.

When the momentum dropped, you nearly cried out of frustration. If you thought you were in pain before, this was ten-fold of that. For some reason, there was some sort of mental block that you couldn’t get past.

You looked up, your lower lip trembling. “I can’t do it. There’s this block and I freeze up and I just can’t do it on my own.”

Regulus looked unhinged. Like he was going to jump out of his skin any second. You’ve never seen him like this. Anything other than calm and collected was out of character for the youngest Black.

“Will you help me?” you whispered. To be honest, you weren’t above begging at this point.

He looked utterly conflicted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N. You’re in heat. I don’t want to take advantage when you’re in such a vulnerable state.”

You shook your head. “You wouldn’t be taking advantage. I know I’m hormonal, but oddly enough, I trust you. You know how to keep a secret. Just please, Regulus. I’m in so much pain.”

Regulus was silent for a moment. He seemed to be in deep contemplation. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re aware of what you’re asking for and who you’re asking it from?”

“I am perfectly aware, thank you very much. Is this the most brilliant idea I’ve ever had? Fuck no. Do I still want to do it anyways? Fuck yes.”

The two of you stared at one another. Regulus clenched his jaw and then unclenched it. Finally, he sighed in resignation.

“C’mere then.”

He positioned himself against the headboard, his back pressed up on the wood. Regulus bent his long legs and pulled you against him, your back resting against the solid plane of his chest. You sighed as he rubbed soothing circles upon your skin, his rings kissing your hips with their cold bite. He shuffled behind you, adjusting himself just as you caught a glimpse of the two of you in your vanity mirror.

Regulus stuck his middle and pointer finger into his mouth, making sure they were nice and wet before he moved them lower. You whimpered as he caressed the inside of your thigh and clutched the sheets as he teased along your crease. When he stroked along your wetness, a choked moan escaped from your lips.

“Gods, you’re fucking dripping.” His cold breath fanned over your neck just as he plunged his fingers deep within you. “Salazar fucking save me, you’re even tighter than I imagined.”

His strokes were languid, small ministrations as he buried his fingers inside of you. The cold metal rings that adorned his slender fingers hit your pubic bone every time he thrusted inside of you, but it wasn’t painful. In fact, seeing the Black heirloom ring soaked in your wetness might’ve been the most erotic sight you’ve ever witnessed.

You whimpered as his other hand disappeared underneath your shirt. “Can I touch you here, princess?”

The sound that came out of you barely sounded human. It was a purr more than anything. Regulus caressed your ribs with his knuckles. “I need words, kitten.”

“You can touch me, Regulus.”

Fire skittered along your skin as his hand traveled further up. He palmed you through your bra before he slipped under the fabric and squeezed your breast. Regulus paid equal attention to both of your breasts, admiring the curve and swell of them as he picked up the pace of his fingers. You moaned as he pinched your nipples, which only made you wetter still.

You fisted his curls in one hand as he curved them inside of you. Regulus chuckled darkly, pleased by your reaction. “Right there? Does that feel good, princess?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, gods that’s perfect.”

“You’re doing so well, ma cherie. That’s it. Ride my fingers just like that. Feels good, yeah?”

You nodded, blinking at the image in the mirror. Regulus had his hands all over you, his lips pressed lightly against your neck as he watched his fingers slide in and out of your tight cunt. His eyes caught yours in the reflection, the green completely swallowed by dark pools of lust.

“Look at you, all spread out for me. You’re fucking exquisite. The little moans you make are enough to drive me mad.”

“Regulus, please,” you keened. He smirked against your neck and picked up the pace. Your head fell against his shoulder as that familiar tense built. “Oh gods. Oh fuck. Reggie—“

You felt him grip your chin, tilting it towards the mirror. “Don’t close your eyes,” Regulus growled into your ear. “Watch, kitten. Watch as I make you cum.”

When you dragged your gaze upwards, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. You were in a state of disarray, cheeks flushed, hair matted, and lips parted as Regulus pushed you over the edge. His fingers were magic and every stroke unraveled you, hips bucking, back arching, begging for more and more and more. The orgasm rippled through you like a monsoon, completely swallowing you whole.

“That’s it, princess,” Regulus cooed. “Gods, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum. Darling, you look divine. Je suis raide dingue de toi.”

The comedown had you seeing stars. Behind your eyes was a whole galaxy, a cluster of constellations that you never would’ve reached without him. Regulus had made you cum so hard that your body felt like it was floating through outer space.

When you finally regained awareness, you were surprised to find Regulus gently brushing your hair back. “How was that, kitten?”

“That was—you were—fuck.”

“Well said, love. Shakespeare himself would envy your silver tongue.”

He slid his fingers out of you slowly and you tried and failed to suppress the little whine that escaped from the back of your throat.

Regulus smirked, feeling the way you clenched around his digits in an attempt to keep him in place. He stared at his hand, mesmerized by the arousal dripping off his fingers. You stirred, having every intention to find something that he could clean himself off with.

“Let me grab you a towel.”

He gripped your hips in place and looked you straight in the eyes as he brought his fingers to his lips. “No need, princess.”

Then he sucked, hard. The filthy image was enough to leave you gasping in shock. He lapped up every drop like you were the sweetest delicacy on this earth. Regulus groaned, his eyes rolling back as he savored the taste. The moan that rippled through him would forever be branded into your mind.

For Godric’s fucking sake, the man was downright obscene.

“That should hold you off for the rest of the day,” Regulus said. “You’ll still feel the effects of your heat, but it won’t be as bad. You might even be able to drag yourself down to dinner. If you can manage to walk on such shaky legs.”

You rolled your eyes, but softened a bit. If it weren’t for him, you would still be in excruciating pain. “Would it be strange to say thank you?”

Regulus shrugged nonchalantly as though you were merely discussing the weather. “Not strange at all. You’re very welcome, princess.”

“You’re…” you took a deep breath, like your body was rejecting whatever compliment was forming in your mind. “You’re really good at that.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

You quirked a brow. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”

“The only compliment I need is the sound of you moaning my name,” he said with a smile as he hooked your bra back in place and pulled your shirt back down. “I assure you that I intend to hear plenty of that in the near future. This is just the start.”

Regulus straightened, trailing his fingers along the sheets before snatching up the red lace underwear you’d thrown at him earlier. He pocketed the lingerie and smirked.

"You said something earlier," you recalled. "Before I..."

"Before I made you come so hard you saw stars?"

Heat flooded your cheeks at his vulgar choice of words. "Yes. Something in French. That's your native tongue, isn't it?"

"Thinking a lot about my tongue, are you love?"

You ignored the salacious comment. "What did you say?"

A devious smirk tugged at his lips. Regulus pierced you with his gaze, those emerald eyes burning with so much lust that you felt choked with desire.

"It's a secret," he whispered, his voice a deep and rough caress. "If you're good, then maybe you'll find out what my tongue and I have to say."

You rolled your eyes. "You're a pain in the arse, Regulus."

"Find me when you want to play again, princess," Regulus said with a dark chuckle. "I'll be waiting for those claws to come out. See you soon, mon chaton.”

#i am climbing up the walls just look at him my god #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black fic #regulus black smut #the marauders #marauders era

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cressidagrey · 1 month

Text

The Witching Hour - Chapter 1 - Nesta

Summary:

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings:

Nightmares, mention of the blood rite, friends with benefits sort of relationship, stabbing (in the past), magical mental health care (sorta)

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

The night air was crisp, but not cold, a welcome reprieve from the summer heat.

But none of this was calming down Nesta's racing heart, even when she stamped down the panic that rose in her chest.

She shielded the bond from it as well as she could, not wanting to wake up Cassian...again.

Nesta didn't know what it was but...but somehow the nightmares that involved the Blood Rite were...worse than even the ones that involved her father dying...the ones that involved that gods-forsaken cauldron.

Somehow the Blood Rite...somehow that was leaving her in a state of panic that nothing could touch. Not even Cassian. And he tried. Her mate did try.

She tried to. She tried everything...making herself so busy with training and work that she should fall into bed with pure exhaustion...sleeping with Cassian and hoping that maybe the pleasure of that would wipe away the nightmares…

Nothing worked.

Nothing helped. Each time she closed her eyes, the same images would invade her mind. The endless days of battle, the gruelling journey through the mountains, the horrors of the Blood Rite...they all appeared with a sickening vividness that made it seem like she wasn't just experiencing a mere nightmare, but actually reliving those horrible days.

It made her throw up and want to cry...want to roll herself together in a miserable little ball because she didn't know what else to do anymore

The panic rose in her chest, making her heart pound in her ears. She was getting desperate, desperately searching for a way to make the nightmares stop. She was considering sleeping outside, on the balcony in the night air, just for a change of scenery.

It seemed ridiculous, but...but at this point...at this point, she'd try anything.

She took a shaking breath, her hand gripping the balcony railing tighter, her knuckles turning white. The night air, usually so calming, was doing little to ease the tightness in her chest.

She was contemplating going back inside and trying to sleep again...just closing her eyes and hoping that maybe this time she would experience something different...when suddenly, she heard the flapping of wings...

Nesta turned her head towards the sound, her senses on high alert. The wings sounded large, powerful, and...familiar.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Azriel appeared before her, slipping over the balcony railing, shadows swirling around his shoulders. "Nesta," he greeted her calmly, giving her a slow nod...like it was totally normal for him to appear on her balcony in the middle of the night.

"You weren't there at dinner," she blurted out because she hadn't seen him since this morning.

"I had a late dinner with an old friend," Azriel answered. Azriel's response made sense, even if the notion of a "late dinner" with an old friend sounded strange to Nesta. But then again, who was she to judge? Azriel spent most of his time being the Spymaster of the Night Court, so she supposed it shouldn't surprise her that he had...odd friends.

"Oh," was all she could manage in response.

"I didn't know you had friends." She immediately regretted her words but Azriel just chuckled.

"Just the one," he promised her, as he leaned against the railing next to her. She caught a sense clinging to him that she couldn't place.

She eyed him carefully, her eyes taking in the mysterious shadow clinging to him. It was a scent that she couldn't quite place, but it was oddly...familiar, too.

Azriel chuckled again, his voice still as calm and steady as ever.

"Just the one," he repeated. "An old friend, from a long time ago."

"Can't sleep?" He asked quietly, his voice a deep rumble.

She gave a slight nod, not looking at Azriel. The nightmares were the one thing she didn't want to discuss with him or anyone for that matter. She didn't want them to know how weak she was, how she still couldn't get a rein on her emotions and her thoughts. She didn't want them to think any more of her as a fragile, broken thing than they already did.

The thought of it, it made her sick.

But...but she had a feeling that Azriel wouldn't judge her, or look at her in that way. Maybe she could...maybe she could ask for help. Or at least...let him know that something was wrong.

She swallowed hard and then said, her voice hardly more than a whisper: "No, I can't...I can't sleep. The...the nightmares."

Azriel gave a nod as if he already knew. His voice was still that same calm and steady as he said, "The Blood Rite?"

Nesta gave another nod. How had he guessed so easily? But then again...it wasn't that hard to guess. The nightmares hadn't started until after that event.

But at least these days she didn't wake up with her entire room engulfed in silver flames anymore. She took a shaking breath, fighting to keep her emotions in check. She wasn't a child. She shouldn't be affected by this. She shouldn't be this much of a mess...

"I am surprised you didn't wake up Cassian when you got up," Azriel said suddenly.

Nesta’s eyes widened a little bit at that. Was she that obvious? Did she look that shake? She had hoped she'd done a better job of putting up a mask in front of the others.

"I didn't want to bother him," she replied quietly. "Let him sleep...I wake him often enough."

"He's your mate," Azriel said evenly. "He would want to be there for you."

His words were like a punch to the gut. She knew that her mate would want to be there for her, and would want to help her. Hell, he probably would already be here, holding her, comforting her...if he knew how bad the nightmares were.

But...but she didn't want to burden him like that. She couldn't keep burdening him...

"He tries to comfort me and then he gets no sleep as well. And I will not be the reason why he has a moment of inattentiveness that ends up costing his life, just because I can't control myself," Nesta hissed.

Her voice was bitter as she spoke. She hated admitting it, saying it out loud...but it was true. She was a burden. She was holding Cassian back, making him waste his nights trying to soothe her instead of getting the rest and preparation he needed for a mission.

She couldn't keep doing that to him. She just...she just couldn't.

A silence fell between them then, her words hanging in the air. She didn't know what Azriel was thinking, what was going on in his head. But he didn't try and refute her words, which only further confirmed the terrible thoughts swirling in her mind.

Another beat of silence, as Nesta let the terrible, awful thoughts swirl through her head.

Then, quietly, as if he had read her mind. "You are not a burden," Azriel said.

Another beat of silence, as she let the terrible, awful thoughts swirl through her head.

Then, quietly, as if he had read her mind. "You are not a burden," Azriel said.

"You are not a burden," he repeated, his voice even. "You are anything but."

She didn't reply, just continued staring out over the railing, her hands gripping the cold stone until her knuckles turned white. She was a burden, she knew that. And she didn't know why he was lying to her, trying to convince her otherwise.

"I have nightmares too," Azriel said suddenly.

Her eyes widened and she jerked her head around to look at him. Wait, what? Azriel had nightmares?

Her mouth opened, an astonished question on her lips, but Azriel didn't give her the chance to ask. He continued in the same even tone as if it was no big deal: "And many of them are about the Blood Rite too."

Her mind was reeling at his confession. Azriel had nightmares about the Blood Rite? The strong, mysterious warrior, the Shadowsinger, the Spymaster of the Night Court?

She couldn't even process the words. And he said it so casually, so nonchalantly as if he was merely discussing the weather and not admitting to being tormented by such horrible, painful nightmares.

"Even now, 500 years after it happened."

His voice was still emotionless, still so calm and steady, even as he admitted that.

It was unfathomable. How...how did he manage to survive through 500 years of these nightmares? She barely could make it a week…

She couldn't even fathom what it would be like, to have those memories torment her for 500 years and counting. To have no hope of them ever stopping.

A silence fell between them, her mind reeling at Azriel's confession. She was about to ask something, to say something...when he suddenly spoke again.

"You want them to stop? The nightmares?" He asked, his voice quiet, yet with a hint of command in it. A hint of that darkness within him, the shadows that swirled around him like an ever-present cloak.

Her eyes widened, a shiver running down her spine at the command in his voice. She gave a slow nod, not trusting her voice to speak.

Somehow...somehow the shadows around him seemed to swirl and dance a little faster, seeming almost excited at her nodded response.

She would give everything for these nightmares to stop

Her voice was a mere whisper, but the honesty in it seemed to resonate like an echo in the night's silence.

She would give anything to stop reliving those memories, to stop seeing those images, to stop...to stop feeling this pain. Anything, she'd give anything for that respite.

Azriel continued to regard her with those dark eyes, those shadows whirling around him. A part of her wondered, for a moment, just what the shadows were thinking. Did they know what Azriel was about to offer, what he was going to say? Was that why they seemed so excited, so anxious…

"Then let's go." He said that so easily as he held out his hand for her and Nesta took it.

In a heartbeat, she'd taken his hand, her slender fingers closing around his. His grip was warm, strong, and...and it felt oddly steadying. Like an anchor to the ground.

The shadows engulfed them in a swirling vortex of darkness. For a moment, her heart thundered in her chest, a brief moment of panic at the feeling of being lost amid the shadows, at being so far from the ground.

But then...then the shadows seemed to shift, Azriel's firm grip on her hand the only anchor to reality, to the ground.

A moment later, the shadows faded away, and she found herself standing in a street in Velaris.

"I thought you couldn't winnow at the House of Wind," she said weakly.

"No winnowing. Shadow Walking," Azriel corrected her absentmindedly.

What? She had no clue what even was the difference.

"I am only wearing my nightgown," she hissed at him a moment later.

For the first time since they'd left the balcony, Azriel turned towards her, his eyes taking in her appearance, raking over her form.

His dark eyes scanned over her frame, her pale nightgown and slippered feet. For a moment, she felt self-conscious, almost shrinking back from that gaze...but then a smirk curled his lips.

"Don't worry, she won't care," he said drily. "She's seen a lot worse. And a lot more."

“It’s the middle of the night!” she protested next.

“It’s a full moon. She’s pretty much nocturnal during this time of the month,” he waved her off.

What kind of friend was this even?!

"Who is she?" Nesta demanded as Azriel led her to a door that was looking...harmless.

"Just a friend," Azriel said simply, his step not faltering as he led her towards the unassuming door.

It looked ordinary, so much so that a passerby would never guess that there was anything special behind it.

He didn't elaborate on the mysterious "she" who was behind the door...and Nesta had a feeling that he wouldn't, not until the moment she would see his friend for herself.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as they approached the door, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation swirling within her.

Azriel was being infuriatingly coy about everything. He wouldn't tell her who they were visiting, how he knew this person, or why this person could help her.

All she could do was follow him towards the unassuming door, her nightgown swishing around her ankles.

When they reached the door, Azriel gave her a slight smirk, as if silently saying, "Ready to find out?"

Nesta shot him a glare back, her eyes narrowing. If he was trying to drive her crazy, he was doing a good job of it.

She had about 5 different insults on the tip of her tongue, but before she had a chance to voice any of them, Azriel pushed open the door, revealing a...darkly elegant interior.

Her breath caught as she stepped across the threshold, her eyes scanning over the elegant yet dark interior of the shop.

Dark tapestries hung on the walls, illuminated by the dim light of the numerous candles scattered throughout. The scent of various herbs and spices filled the air, mingling with the lingering scent of something...stronger. There was a...mysterious energy to the place, a sense of something ancient and powerful.

And then, Nesta came eye to eye with a pitch black...something. Golden eyes with slitted pupils watched her from the darkness and she froze. Like a cat, it stared at her. But for a cat, it was...too big. Too tall. It would at least reach Azriel's waist.

Her heart quickened at the sight of the...thing, watching her with its unblinking golden eyes. It was like a cat, but wrong, far too big to be a house cat. She was frozen, her body tense as she held the gaze of the feline creature before her.

She was about to whisper to Azriel what the hell this thing was if he could explain this...but it was Azriel who broke the silence.

"Hello, Bella," Azriel said, his voice smooth and even.

His words sent a small shock through her, her eyes widening as she stared between the strange cat creature and Azriel. Bella? This creature was named Bella.

Azriel continued, as if oblivious to her shock, "I hope you don't mind me bringing some company this late at night."

The feline creature...Bella...huffed in response, seeming to look at Azriel with those golden eyes, as if silently judging him.

For a moment, Nesta was convinced that the creature would attack them, throw them out of the house, but then...

Suddenly, Bella turned her golden gaze back to her, those feline eyes seeming to scan her from head to toe.

And then it moved.

Bella moved with a fluid, almost graceful motion, its jet-black fur rippling as it stepped out of the shadows, its golden eyes still on Nesta.

It was a cat. A massive cat. A huge cat. Big enough that it would reach Azriel’s waist. Bella yawned, showing a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth. Nesta thought she was going to faint

The cat-like creature circled her, its movements slow and deliberate. Her heart was still thundering in her chest, her eyes wide as she followed Bella's every movement, half prepared to flee if the creature attacked.

Nesta tried to remain steady, to keep her breathing even, but her heart was racing, drumming against her chest.

Bella continued circling her, those golden eyes never leaving her form for a second. It was like the creature was studying her, silently judging her, and it made her feel...uncomfortable.

"Oh, she likes you," a female voice said. "Did you bring us a toy, Shadowsinger?"

The new voice startled her, and her head jerked to the side just in time to see a woman moving into the room, stepping out of the shadows near the back of the room.

The woman was…utterly gorgeous, with green eyes and long red hair cascading down her back.

Her eyes widened as she took in the woman before her, her body covered in a gold satin nightgown that clung to her curves and left very little to the imagination.

The woman -who could only be called a Goddess - smirked and was amused as she took in Nesta, her eyes scanning over her from head to toe in the same manner as Bella had.

She was clearly taking in every detail, her gaze sharp and unwavering, as if evaluating every bit of her appearance and body.

"I am not a toy," Nesta bristled.

"Of course not," the woman said with a smile, her voice smooth and silky. "But you are very pretty."

The compliment sounded more like a statement, like the woman was judging a painting or a piece of jewellery. Her words were not rude...but they didn't hold much kindness, either, more like simple facts.

And they didn't do anything to soothe that flicker of envy that had arisen in Nesta at the sight of the other woman's beauty.

"We are in need of your services, Cate," Azriel said at that moment. Cate. Such a normal name...for such a woman. Her ears were pointed but...Nesta would have bet anything that she wasn't High Fae. She wasn't sure what she was but she wasn't...

Her eyes darted to Azriel, who had stepped up next to her, his gaze on the woman - Cate, it seemed she was called - with an expectant look.

"Services?" Cate repeated with a raised brow, her eyes flickering between them, before a smirk curled at the corner of her mouth. "And what sort of services can I render you, Shadowsinger?"

Her mind was spinning to try to make sense of the exchange, of that subtle… undercurrent of something that lay just beneath the words.

It was almost like there was a conversation happening she wasn't privy to, like they were speaking in a language she didn't understand.

She glanced at Azriel, trying to read his expression, but he was giving nothing away.

Cate's smirk widened as she took in both of them, her green eyes scanning over them with that sharpness that made Nesta feel more self-conscious of her own plain nightgown.

Azriel, meanwhile, remained as stoic, his features betraying nothing of his thoughts. He seemed to be waiting...but waiting for what, exactly?

The silence seemed to stretch on between them, the tension so heavy that Nesta could almost feel it pressing against her skin.

But then Cate moved, the silky fabric of her nightgown flowing around her as she took a few steps towards Azriel. Her eyes were still on Nesta, a smirk still on her lips as she purred out, "Why don't you tell me what services you require?" The woman's voice was low, almost sultry, and her eyes...her eyes were still on Nesta, studying her still.

Azriel's face remained expressionless as he spoke, his voice calm as he said, "She is in need of your help. She's been having nightmares. Bad ones. The same ones, over and over."

Cate's face changed into a look of understanding, a flicker of sympathy in her eyes as she took in the information. Her eyes flickered towards Nesta before returning to Azriel.

"The same nightmare," she repeated, her voice now thoughtful, before adding, "Every time?"

Azriel gave a grave nod, his voice steady as he replied, "Yes. Every night."

Cate's eyes widened just a fraction, her face taking on that thoughtful expression again, as if contemplating the information.

The woman suddenly moved towards a small table on the side, gesturing with a, "Sit. I'll make us some tea." Cate's words caught her off guard, her eyes widening a fraction…At that moment, Bella the cat walked over to her and rubbed herself against her legs.

Nesta froze for a moment, half expecting the creature to bite her. Instead, the cat merely purred as it rubbed its head against her shin. She glanced at Azriel questioningly, but he only shrugged in response, seemingly well used to the cat’s…usual antics.

She took the hint, stepping over to the nearest chair and hesitantly taking a seat.

The room was so still, the only sound was the soft rustle of Cate's nightgown as she moved to prepare the tea, the occasional purring of the cat…now letting itself be pet by Azriel, leaning its massive head against his thigh.

Azriel relaxed. She had never seen him that relaxed before. The shadows were swirling around Bella, the cat lazily swiping at them and that was that.

Nesta, on the other hand, was anything but relaxed.

"What is she?" Nesta hissed at Azriel.

Azriel's expression remained unchanging, his gaze fixed on Cate as she moved about the room, preparing the tea. "Cate?" He repeated, not looking at her. "She's a witch."

Nesta's eyebrows shot up at the revelation. A witch?

A witch. The one time she had been confronted with the idea of a witch had been in Illyria. Devlon had been terrified at the idea of Nesta being a witch.

Her mind immediately flashed back to her time in that cold, wretched camp.

Devlon, the sneering face of the war-camp lord. The memory of that small village, the whispered conversations…She couldn't help but remember the fear in Devlon's eyes when he confronted her about the rumours about her being a witch. He'd almost looked terrified like the mere thought of a witch was enough to frighten him.

And here in front of her, a witch stood before her, preparing to make her tea. She tried to keep her nerves in check, but her heart was hammering furiously.

Cate set the tea set down on the table in front of them, her movements graceful and fluid, like every move was a performance.

"Don't worry, I haven't eaten anyone in centuries," Cate quipped as she brought the tea to the table. "You can ask Azriel."

Cate's words startled her, a jolt of...fear mixed with surprise rushing through her at the woman's casual mention of potentially eating someone.

Slowly, Nesta turned back to Cate, trying to control the pounding of her heart in her chest. "You...haven't eaten anyone. In centuries," she repeated, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

Cate gave her a smile that was full of teeth as if she knew exactly what effect her words were having on her. She seemed to find the whole thing amusing, her green eyes sparkling with humour, as if she was enjoying the fact that she was frightening her.

Azriel started laughing.

Nesta turned towards him quickly, utterly bewildered by the sound.

He was laughing. Azriel was laughing, his eyes sparkling with...amusement at the look on her face.

"She's joking," he said, his voice laced with humour. “A poor sense of humour, but still a joke.”

"You tend to like my sense of humour," Cate quipped, seating herself, a smile playing around her mouth. "I have never eaten another fae or faeries, I promise you, Nesta Archeron," she said easily.

Cate's words should have reassured her, but still, there was something about her that made her feel...unsettled. Cate moved with the grace of a predator, her every gesture full of a...confidence, a power, that was hard to ignore.

"How do you know my name?" she demanded.

Cate's smile grew wider at the sound of her question, her green eyes lighting up with amusement.

"Azriel told me, of course," she said, her voice smooth and silky.

Her gaze flicked over to Azriel, who was still watching the interaction with those calm hazel eyes.

It was...annoying. He was just watching them, like this was all some sort of game to him. Was it all just...a game?

Nesta couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation at the thought. And at the fact that he seemed perfectly relaxed while she felt like she was ready to jump out of her skin

Cate noticed the irritation on her face and her smile grew wider, a spark of mischief in her eyes as she took in her expression.

"You're annoyed, aren't you?" Cate said smoothly, her voice full of amusement. "Annoyed that Azriel hasn't told you more about me, hasn't warned you about the 'scary witch'."

She couldn't help but flinch at the accuracy of Cate's words. She was annoyed. Annoyed that Azriel had brought her here without properly preparing her, without telling her more about the woman she was about to meet. It all felt...like a power play.

"It's not about you, it's about that mate of yours," Cate said with a shrug. "The General and I have had a rather...tumultuous past."

"With that, she means that she has once stabbed Cassian on general principle," Azriel jumped in with some amusement. "He has never forgiven her."

She felt her eyes widen in surprise, not just at the revelation that Cate had stabbed Cassian, but at the casual way Azriel mentioned it.

And yet, somehow, she suspected there was a lot more to the story than that...and that there was also a lot left unsaid between the two of them.

Cate rolled her eyes at Azriel's comment, her voice full of dry humour. "Cassian has always been one for holding a grudge, hasn't he?"

Her gaze flicked between the two of them, her mind swirling with questions...and curiosity.

There was a history here, between the two of them. A history filled with, it seemed, a whole lot of tension and...probably a lot of violence. And yet, they still seemed friendly. Even close, in a way.

Nesta was dying to know more, to dig deeper into the complexities of their relationship, but they were both being so...cryptic, answering some questions while conveniently ignoring others.

"Now," Cate spoke, her voice soft, "How long, exactly, have you been having these nightmares, Nesta?"

Her attention snapped back to Cate at her question, the mention of the nightmares sending a pang of anxiety through her.

She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady as she answered, "A few months, now."

Cate's face grew serious at her reply, the amusement and mischief in her demeanour fading away, replaced by a look of concern. She leaned back in her chair, studying Nesta intently like she was trying to discern something from her expression.

"A few months," she repeated thoughtfully. "And they're every night?"

She gave a small nod, her heart rate picking up at the intensity of Cate's gaze. She didn't like how perceptive those green eyes were, how it felt like the woman was able to see straight through her, straight into her mind.

"They get...worse, every time," she muttered, her voice low. "Louder, more vivid."

She could feel Azriel's eyes on her as she spoke, the weight of his gaze heavy on her skin. But she didn't look at him, too focused on Cate, on the witch studying her so intently.

"The Dreamcatcher Spell," Azriel said, his voice even. "Can you cast that on her?"

Cate's eyes flicked to Azriel for a moment, a flicker of some undefinable emotion passing over her face before her gaze returned to Nesta. She took in the Shadowsinger's request, considering it for a moment.

Finally, she nodded, her voice calm and cool as she replied, "I can. Yes."

Her heart skipped a beat at Cate's confirmation, a mixture of anticipation and...fear stirring inside her. The Dreamcatcher Spell. She had no idea what that was, what it would do. But Azriel seemed to trust Cate.

"What..." she began, faltering briefly before steadying her voice. "What exactly does that spell do?"

Cate's expression was calm as she replied, "It's meant to help with vivid, recurring nightmares." Her eyes, though...her eyes seemed to hold a flicker of something else, something that made her stomach twist. "It won't help you get rid of the nightmares altogether, but it will...ease them, a little. Blurr them around the edges. Make it possible for you to go back to sleep...it blunts the emotions attached to these memories."

Her breaths came out a little faster at Cate's explanation, her heart rate increasing at the thought of...having the nightmares be eased, even a little. It sounded...too good to be true, almost.

She glanced at Azriel, whose expression was unreadable, before turning back to Cate. "And...there's no drawbacks? Nothing I should be worried about?" Cate gave her a shrug, the corners of her lips turning up in a small smile.

"Do you really think Azriel would trust me with his sister's mind if he hadn't had me cast the same spell over him dozens of times?"

His sister? He claimed her as his sister?

Her head snapped towards him, but Azriel just inclined his head.

Azriel trusted her The Shadowsinger, who was always so careful, who was so skilled at maintaining his secrets, trusted this...strange witch enough to let her cast spells on his mind?

"There's nothing to be worried about. The worst side effect could be a headache," Cate continued. "And that would be from an unskilled witch."

Her eyes flickered back to Cate, her mind still struggling to sort through the implications of all this. Azriel really did trust the woman and...

She wanted to believe her. Wanted to trust Cate's words, and believe that there were no dangers or side effects.

But a small part of her mind was still sceptical, wary of letting someone—a witch even—mess with her mind.

"How much does it cost?"

Cate's smile widened at her question, a hint of sharp teeth visible as she leaned back in her chair, her hands coming to rest on the armrests.

"You are wary about letting me mess with your mind, aren't you?" she said smoothly, her voice full of humour. "You're thinking, 'What's the price I'll have to pay for this?'"

She swallowed, forcing herself to keep her voice steady as she asked again, "How much?"

Cate's smile grew into a full-fledged grin as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"I'm not going to take your firstborn if that's what you're worried about," she said, her voice still amused. "I don't want gold or jewels or anything of the sort."

Her shoulders relaxed a fraction at Cate's words, her anxiety receding slightly at the reassurance that she wouldn't have to pay anything like those things. But she still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more...a catch.

"Then...what?" she asked, her voice still a little wary.

Cate's expression didn't change as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes flickering over to Azriel for a moment before returning to Nesta.

"You don't need to worry about that," she finally said, her voice calm. "Azriel and I…We've...done each other a few favours, over the years.""

Her heart leapt into her throat at Cate's words, her mind swirling with more questions. Favours? Azriel had asked favours of the witch? What kinds of favours?

"That's all?" Nesta insisted, her eyes narrowing a fraction. It didn't sound like that was, in fact, all. The way Cate kept looking at Azriel, the way she said they had done each other ‘favours'...

It sounded like there was a lot more to that than she was being told.

Nesta shot Azriel a look, her eyes narrowing at his seemingly relaxed demeanour. He was being so...unfazed by all of this. So calm, while she was the apprehensive one. He really didn't seem concerned about her letting Cate cast the spell.

Nesta let out a breath, letting her eyes focus back on Cate.

She also hadn’t expected to be led into a chalk circle in the middle of Cate’s living room…or for her to light the candles with a wave of her hand…

Nesta watched in complete befuddlement, her eyes wide as Cate began to chant. The language sounded...foreign, guttural, the words flowing out in a steady rhythm.

She had expected...something different. She had no idea what, but it wasn't this.

Her breathing was uneven, her heart pounding in her chest, the sound almost drowning out the strange language.

And then it was done.

Nesta watched as Cate finished her chant, the final words reverberating through the air like a spell. For a moment, the room was utterly quiet.

And then...nothing happened.

She stared at Cate, waiting for...something, anything. But the witch just kneeled there, peering at her through half-lidded eyes.

"That's it?" Nesta asked, her voice coming out hoarse and a little shaky. "It's...done?"

Cate gave her a small smile, not saying anything, just watching her with that intense green gaze of hers.

She shifted a little in her position, feeling strangely...naked under the woman's stare.

"That's it," Cate agreed. "What did you think was going to happen?"

She swallowed, feeling a little foolish for her question. She didn't really know what she was expecting. Something flashy, maybe. Or some...sign, some kind of indication that the spell worked.

"I don't know," she admitted, her voice a little sheepish. "I suppose I thought...it would be more dramatic, somehow."

Cate let out a chuckle at her words, the sound rich and amused. "That's what everyone expects," she said. "Some grand gesture, some great wave of magic."

She lifted her hand, a small flicker of green magic dancing over her fingertips. "The truth is," she continued, "most spells are not as interesting as people think they are."

"Most?" she repeated, her voice curious. "So some are?"

Cate's lips curled into a small, sharp smile at her question, her eyes sparkling with humour.

"Oh, some definitely can be," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "It depends on the witch, really. Some love to show off. Others...prefer the subtle approach."

"Don't let her fool you, she loves to show off," Azriel said drily.

"Only for you, shadowsinger," Cate shot back, flirtation clear in her voice. And then, somehow the last thing Nesta had expected…The last thing was for her to gain her feet, cross the room and kiss Azriel. Right on the mouth.

She could only watch in stunned silence as the kiss deepened, as the Shadowsinger's hands came up to caress Cate's face, to pull her closer.

It was so...unbelievable. So unreal. But also...so...hot.

She kinda wished Cassian was there.

The thoughts swirled in her mind, her body heating up just from watching them. Watching Azriel lean in to kiss this dangerous, gorgeous witch with effortless grace like he'd done it a thousand times.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the kiss ended. Azriel stepped back, his cheeks flushed and his breathing slightly uneven.

Cate, on the other hand, looked completely unflustered, her hair still perfectly arranged, her expression unruffled. She simply smiled at him, a secretive, intimate smile, before turning back to Nesta.

For a moment, all Nesta could do was sit there, utterly gobsmacked, her mouth still hanging open slightly.

Finally, she found her voice, forcing out, "Uh...How...long has that...?"

Because, judging by the casual intimacy between them, this...relationship, or whatever it was, definitely wasn’t new.

Cate let out a small laugh at her question, her eyes sparkling with humour.

The look in her eyes was almost...predatory, as she added, "We've been… friends… for a very long time, haven't we, shadowsinger?"

At her words, Azriel's cheeks darkened, his ears turning slightly red as he let out a grunt of assent.

Nesta’s eyes darted to Azriel, taking in his flushed cheeks and averted gaze, the way he shifted his weight slightly, as if uncomfortable. It was so rare to see him off-balance, so rare to see him anything but completely composed.

And it was all Cate's fault. This witch somehow had the Shadowsinger flustered and blushing like a schoolboy.

"We've had...quite the history," Cate continued, her voice smooth and velvety.

Her words were cryptic, and somehow also laced with innuendo, as if there was a whole world behind them, a world full of…memories.

Nesta couldn’t help but wonder just how...intimate their 'history' was.

"Now, if the nightmares persist, have Azriel bring you back to me. Otherwise, you should be nightmare-free for the next few months,” Cate said easily.

She nodded numbly, her mind still trying to process the implications of all this.

Nightmare-free for the next few months. That was good. That was...incredible, actually.

But her mind was still swirling with so many other things…mainly Azriel and Cate and this...history of theirs that she knew nothing about.

"And…" she began, faltering slightly as she tried to gather her thoughts. "If I...do need to come back..."

Nesta trailed off, her eyes flickering to Azriel as she thought of what she was about to say. It felt intrusive, and yet she couldn’t help herself from asking, “What are your…rates?”

Cate raised an eyebrow at the question, tilting her head as a small smile curled her lips.

"My rates?" she repeated, amusement clear in her voice. "Well, that depends on the…service, I suppose. Some things can be done for a few gold coins."

The look in her eyes, in Azriel’s eyes, said some things couldn’t be bought.

Her mind was still trying to process the implications of that, when Cate spoke again, her voice now completely free of amusement. "But some things...can’t."

Azriel visibly stiffened at her words, his eyes flickering to the witch, a silent communication passing between the two of them.

"Some things," Cate reiterated, her eyes fixed on Azriel, "can only be paid for in... favours."

Nesta was getting the distinct feeling that she was intruding on some unspoken conversation between them, on some agreement, maybe, that she knew nothing about.

"What kind of… favours?" she asked, glancing between Azriel and Cate, her mind swimming with possibilities.

Cate smiled a sharp, predatory smile, her eyes flickering to Azriel before returning to her.

"That," she said, her voice now dripping with sweet condescension, "Is for Azriel to explain, should he choose. Though I’m sure you’ve gathered some idea of what such favours could entail by now."

Azriel rolled his eyes. Nesta stifled a small laugh at Azriel's reaction, his eye roll speaking volumes. It was clear that he was used to Cate's taunting, used to her...provocation.

"Good Night, Cate," he said drily and the witch laughed as they left the house.

"See you soon, Shadowsinger!" she sing-songed in response.

The night air outside was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the warm intimacy of the cottage.

Nesta took a deep breath, trying to clear her head off the whirlwind thoughts that had been running through it.

The kiss between Cate and Azriel, their history, their…agreements.

It was all so…unexpected. So strange and…intriguing.

"I thought you were in love with Mor," she finally settled on saying.

Azriel shot her a look at her words, a mix of irritation and...amusement, perhaps.

"I am," he replied, his voice gruff. "But Cate and I…" He paused, his expression becoming contemplative as he chose his next words carefully. "Cate and I have...history. It's...complicated."

"And Elain?" Nesta asked, crossing her arms. Whatever had been going on between Azriel and her younger sister…before it had come to a screeching halt sometimes around Winter Solstice.

Azriel's face shuttered slightly at the mention of Elain, his jaw tightening. "Elain…" he began, his voice hoarse as he looked away. "That's…over. It was a mistake, really." His voice was rough, almost...ashamed as if the memory of his involvement with her sister pained him

"Elain has a mate," Azriel said carefully. "It has been made very clear to me that I have no right to interfere with that." The way he said these words made Nesta wonder who exactly had done that.

There was a hint of bitterness in his voice as he spoke, a resentment that he quickly masked with a brusque "It doesn’t matter."

But, it did. It mattered to him, that much was obvious from the tightness of his expression, from the tenseness of his shoulders.

She could guess who had made that clear to him.

Feyre must have found out about it – or, perhaps, Rhysand. And they must have intervened.

She swallowed. It made her uneasy, though she understood why Azriel had…pulled back from that. Unless Elain finally outright turned Lucien down…getting in the middle of that was just begging for a fallout.

“And you and Cate?” she asked hesitantly.

Azriel’s expression softened slightly, his shoulders relaxing a fraction.

"Cate and I..." he repeated, his voice hoarse. "We have...a history, as she said. An agreement, you could call it."

He let out a huff of breath, almost like a sigh.

"We're...friends," he finally said, his voice firm, though there was an edge in it that suggested there was more to it than that

“Cate…Cate makes it very clear what she wants from me,” Azriel said quietly. “When we happen to be in the same place, every few years, we…spend time together. We aren’t beholden to each other in any way. She takes other lovers and so do I,” he said with a shrug.

Azriel’s words were quiet, spoken matter-of-factly, as if he were simply stating a fact. But there was an undertone of something deeper there, hints of…feeling, maybe.

It was so rare to see Azriel openly talk about this stuff, to lay bare even a portion of his personal life.

“Cate has never been scared of me. I appreciate that.”

He said that like he held that so precious. That little fact.

Nesta could just stare at him.

"It’s...nice," he said quietly. "Being with someone who doesn't...shy away. She’s much scarier than I am after all,” he quipped, a small smile on his far too handsome face.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #my writing #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #The Witching Hour

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themissinghand · 16 days

Text

Genshin Impact: Beneath His Gaze

Summary: In which you’re Capitano’s executive assistant who’s a little too good at their job (and coincidently, very good-looking too).

Or, Capitano hates competition, after all, you belong to him.

Pairing: Jealous! Il Capitano x Strong! Male Reader ft. Pantalone and Dottore

Note: Yes. Capitano single-handedly took me out of my writer’s block. That 5.0 update was quite something. This became longer than I ever expected.

Warning: Slight NSFW. Possessive behaviour, flirting, biting and non-consensual touching. Capitano has claws and sharp tongue.

★・・・・・・★

Il Capitano is a fearsome man.

True to his title, he is powerful but honorable, respected yet feared by all. Perhaps it was his tall statue, the dark mysterious mask he dons, or maybe, it was his silent demeanor.

Or perhaps his ruthless means and aura that screamed death.

People do not simply stroll up to Capitano like they would with Tartaglia, but he detests flies regardless.

Then he met you, with almost an impressive statue matching himself, but with a much more…approachable face. Pretty as the Damselette would call you.

You were competent, strong, and most importantly, adaptable. A face that could be remembered from either side of the light and dark.

People described you as the face of an angel, but cunning like the devil. Hence, he promoted you to his only assistant (after all, he needs no assistants, much less bodyguards). However, you seemed to do more than what is required for a mere assistant.

“Master. Please, have some tea.” When you bring him tea and snacks in the middle of work.

“Master, the weather is cold outside, please take this.” When you give him a heat pack, imbued with your pyro powers.

“Master, please allow me to take care of these vermin for you.” When you reduced his anger with a slight touch on his hand on his sword, which almost would have destroyed a major section of his mansion.

Capitano will not admit it, however, his life seems to be filled with a lot of noise, albeit it becoming much easier, and warmer.

“Don’t you think Commander (Y/N) would make a good malewife?”

Capitano freezes in his steps. Honed in battle, naturally his senses are much more sensitive than others.

“Are you drunk? I know you’re gay, but how could you go after the Commander? Didn’t you remember how terrifying he was when he almost worked us to death in training?”

There was a little infuriating laugh.

“But, have you seen him smile and compliment us? Can you blame me? Have you seen others ogling at his half naked body after training? Hey, didn’t you have a crush on him?”

“T-That was before, and quiet down. Someone might hear you.”

“I wonder how he would taste…” Steps resumed in the halls, this time, they were quick, but silent.

“You’re crazy. C’mon, let’s go before someone hears-”

“Think about it, he has a big chest, and his ass-”

“Shut up-”

Suddenly, a large shadow casts over them and they slowly turn around, suddenly feeling cold all over.

“Master-”

A scream, before silence finally returned to the halls.

“Master.” Il Capitano hands you his coat as always, often stained with blood.

But as always, it was never his.

“Master, Allow me to serve you tea. I obtained this from Sumeru, and it has quite the enticing scent…”

Again, you chatted as you prepared tea for Capitano, starting from small pleasantries, to his schedule and current affairs. You stood beside him as always and even though your Master did not say a single word of response to you, you knew he was listening.

Everything was a routine and a reward to you, after all, you were very honoured to assist someone as highly regarded as Il Capitano.

As fearsome as your Master appears, he allows you to speak your mind, and use his authority as necessary. It was difficult to obtain his trust and you were happy with your progress, even if you had to hide your disgusting feelings for him.

Yes, you had a crush on this man who everyone fears.

After all, who doesn’t like a rich, powerful, and respected man?

“Sit.” Suddenly, your Master commanded you. You stop in your ramblings at his command, and you obey. Respectfully seating yourself to his right with a look of quiet surprise.

You were used to following his orders without question, but Capitano rarely asked you to sit with him like this. Normally, you were too busy managing his affairs or reporting on the state of his forces to sit idly.

As well, he did not touch his tea once today.

Capitano’s mask obscured most of his face, but you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you, heavy and intense. It was as if he was measuring you, trying to read your thoughts, though you kept your face carefully neutral.

Finally, he took a slow sip of the tea, his silence stretching on as he continued to watch you. You shifted slightly in your seat, feeling the intensity of his focus, but you didn’t falter. After all, this was Capitano—your Master. You had served under him for years, and you pride yourself on your ability to remain composed, no matter the situation.

Finally, he spoke, his voice a low rumble.

“Do you know what they say about you?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden question.

“What do you mean, Master?”

“The Fatui agents. The ones who flirt with you. The ones who look at you as though you are theirs to claim.” Capitano’s words were clipped, and you could hear the irritation lacing his tone.

“Do you know how they speak about you?”

Your brows furrowed as you recalled those moments. A fleeting regret crossed your mind; you should have dealt with those pests like everyone else.

After all, you’ve maintained your image and physical appearance only for your Master, and no one else.

“Master, please forgive me, I will ensure this will not happen again. I assure you that their actions do not affect my duties.”

Capitano’s eyes darkened, his claws gripping the arm of his chair with enough force to make the wood creak.

“That’s not what I asked.”

The tension in the room thickened, and for the first time, you felt a flicker of unease. Capitano rarely raised his voice or showed any outward signs of frustration, but now… there was something different in the air.

“I… don’t concern myself with such things, Master,” you answered carefully. “My focus is on serving you and fulfilling my responsibilities.”

He stood abruptly, his large form towering over you, casting a shadow across the room. His claws reached down, grabbing your wrist with a firm but controlled grip.

“And yet, they continue. They think they can speak about you as if you’re theirs to take, as if they have any right.”

You looked up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. There was no mistaking the intensity in his voice, the tension that simmered just beneath the surface. It was an emotion you hadn’t expected from him, at least not toward you.

Could it be-

“Master, I—”

Before you could finish, Capitano pulled you up from your seat with one arm, his strength undeniable as he carried you effortlessly. Your breath hitched as you were suddenly pressed against his chest, the cold metal of his armor a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body.

"You're mine," he growled, gripping your waist. "No one else can touch you."

Your heart raced in your chest as you stared up at him, mind spinning as you adjusted and adapted as you always had.

This was new, unexpected.

You had always been his assistant, his soldier, but now… it was clear that Capitano saw you as something more—his.

A slow, sly smile tugged at your lips.

“Master, I am loyal to you.”

Capitano’s grip on you tightened, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear.

“Then show me. Let them know you’re mine.”

His words sent a tantalizing shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you found yourself questioning whether you were just his assistant… or something far more dangerous.

In the dim light of Capitano’s private quarters, the air was thick with tension—unspoken, yet undeniably present.

It had become a dangerous game between the two of you.

You stood by his desk, pretending to review the reports you had brought, while Capitano’s presence loomed behind you, closer than necessary. His claws brushed against your lower back, the contact brief but enough to send heat through your body. You didn't flinch; instead, you leaned into his touch ever so slightly, your pulse quickening at the daring proximity.

"You’re late," he muttered slowly, his voice like gravel, yet there was no malice in it—only something darker.

You turned to face him, a smirk dancing on your lips.

"I had to ensure no one would notice my absence. Wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation, Master."

His eyes, cold to the world, burned with a heat only you had the privilege of seeing. Without a word, he reached for you, pulling you close with a force that left no room for protest. His lips were on yours in an instant, urgent and commanding.

His claws roamed your body, memorizing every line and muscle as if you were the only thing grounding him to this world.

"Careful, Master," you whispered against his lips, your voice teasing. "If we’re caught…"

He silenced you with another kiss, rougher this time, his grip firm as he pressed you against the desk.

"No one will dare."

You reveled in it all.

As his executive assistant, your dedication to work and training had caught the attention of many, including some of the Harbingers.

One evening, after a rigorous training session with Capitano, you quickly changed to a clean appearance and immediately rushed to your Master’s office. However, it seems there were people waiting for you in the halls, which seemed to be a common occurrence recently.

This time, it wasn’t just Fatui Cicin Mages or Agents though. Much more difficult, but not hard to handle.

After all, you worked your way up to this position for a reason.

“Well well well, who do we have here?”

“Lord Dottore, Lord Pantalone. How can I be of assistance?” Dottore’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he observed you, something you were keen to notice.

“A fine specimen indeed…” He approached you casually as you stayed still and kept your eyes low.

Pantalone, ever the opportunist, leaned in with a sly grin. “I must say, you look like someone who could handle more than just being an assistant. I’m sure we could find a place for someone with your… capabilities.”

You pretend not to notice their serpentine eyes, or the sudden arm over your shoulder, or the slow squeeze on your bicep, and you couldn’t help but shiver when an arm grabbed your waist.

“How about working for me? I’ll be sure to treat you well.” A seductive whisper to your ear. And you feel trapped beside these powerful men.

Truly evil.

You returned a little smirk, which somehow seemed to intrigue them even more.

“I serve and am loyal to my current Master, however, I am honoured to receive your offer.”

Before they could respond, you felt a familiar but imposing presence approaching you. Heavy steps that suddenly decided to reveal itself.

(Y/N).” His voice was deep, drawing all eyes to him.

“Master.” You greet him as usual, and you hear a little ‘tch’ from beside you.

The halls fell silent. Pantalone and Dottore straightened, their casual airs replaced by a more respectful demeanor. Capitano’s gaze was locked onto you, and you shivered in slight excitement knowing that he was angry.

“You’re late.” Capitano states before walking off, as if prompting you to follow him. After you bid farewell to the two other amused harbingers, who seemed quite intent in touching your muscles one last time before letting you go.

You followed your Master down the hall into his office, the tension between you palpable.

Once the doors shut in his office, Capitano turned around, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe.

“You are quite the vixen.” Sharp claws wrapped around your throat and raised you up to his eye level.

Before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. The sudden intensity took you by surprise, but you quickly found yourself responding with equal fervor.

When he finally pulled away, you felt breathless as you stared back at him.

“You enjoy their attention.” he stated, disappointment evident in his voice.

“You’re mine, and yet, you dare covet something more?”

You met his gaze with a smirk, showing your true colours.

“And if I enjoy their attention?”

Capitano’s eyes darkened further. He pulled you into another heated kiss, his claws gripping your hips firmly. You were sure that would leave some bruises.

“You must be punished.”

“Master-urgh!” You resisted the urge to scream as sharp teeth sunk into your collarbone, and an alien tongue swept over your neck.

It was the right choice as you felt a pair of eyes glaring at you, so you remained silent before he dropped you onto the floor. Instantly, you inhaled sharply and struggled to catch your breath as you quickly kneeled for your life.

“Please, forgive me, Master. My life is yours.”

For Capitano, he felt a sick satisfaction seeing you beg like a little dog.

Il Capitano believed he had to tighten his leash.

During the next few days, you did your best to focus on your work, trying to push aside the lingering tension. But you could always feel a pair of cold eyes constantly on you. Especially when you interact with other people.

“Well, well, how is our little assistant holding up?” Pantalone grinned as he cornered you again in the hall. “How long before Capitano locks you away, hm?”

Dottore chuckled darkly, his fingers lightly trailing down your arm, sending a shiver through you.

“The offer is still on the table. We’d take good care of you,” he said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “You’d be in much better hands.”

With the same fake yet alluring smile, you slowly back away from their touch. You didn’t need to say anything after all, you could practically feel him coming.

The familiar sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor.

In an instant, Capitano was beside you, his claws gripping your shoulders firmly. Without a word, he pulled you away from the two Harbingers, his strength overwhelming as he practically dragged you down the hall. Pantalone and Dottore watched with amusement, smirking at the sight of Capitano’s thinly veiled rage.

You didn’t even have a chance to speak as Capitano led you into his private quarters and slammed the door shut behind you. His breathing was heavy, and his eyes—what little you could see through his mask—burned with a mixture of anger and desire.

“You’re mine,” Capitano reminded, his voice low and dangerous.

Before you could respond, he lifted you with ease, your feet leaving the ground as he pinned you against the wall. His massive claws gripped your waist and ass, claws digging into your flesh as his lips crushed against yours in a kiss.

You gasped into the kiss, and wrapped your legs around him. He clawed at your chest as if he was trying to prove a point—that you belonged to him and no one else, and you whimpered when you felt pain.

And despite everything, you found yourself leaning into him, drawn to the darkness that radiated from him.

"Master, I'm yours."

His touch was intoxicating, and even though you knew how dangerous this was, you couldn’t help but be pulled deeper into the web Capitano had spun around you.

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