#instead of your presence magically fixing everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kbwrites · 9 months ago

Text

Breaking up is hard to do!

synopsis: breaking up with the jjk men.

⚝characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami

⚝content: heavy angst, gaslighting(Gojo's), depression (Suguru's), mutual breakup(Nanami's)

⚝wc: 3.5k

Satoru Gojo

“Yeah so then Yuji popped out of the crate and surprised them all! You should’ve seen it baby!” Satoru wheezes holding his stomach as he recalls the event from the day.

No matter how hard you try though, you can only muster a small smile.

It had become really hard to do much else recently. With the weight of the hundreds of tasks at work taking its toll. Satoru looks over at you, waiting for a laugh—but it doesn’t come.

“Hellooo? Everything alright princess?” He questions giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Mhmm!” You nod.

He looks at you for another moment, unreadable expression on his face. Satoru shifts, clearly expecting more from you. “You sure? You’ve been quiet tonight. That’s not like you,” he says, his voice still light, but there’s a hint of curiosity now.

You try to hold back the frustration, but it bubbles up anyway. “I’m just tired, Satoru.”

“Tired? Seriously?” he mutters, pulling his hand away. “You work, what, a nine-to-five? You act like you’re running yourself into the ground.”

You blink, taken aback by his dismissive tone. “Satoru, it’s not just about the hours. It’s everything piling up, and—”

“Piling up?” He cuts you off with a scoff, already reaching for his phone. “Why didn’t you just say something sooner? You know I could’ve hired someone to handle that for you. I’ve got the money. You shouldn’t be stressing over... whatever this is.”

The words sting. You knew his mind would go there. It always does—like money could just make the exhaustion disappear, like hiring someone to take care of the smaller details would magically solve everything.

“It’s not about the money, Satoru.” you snap, trying to hold onto your patience. “I don’t need someone else doing my job for me. I just... I need you to listen.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Listen? What do you expect me to say? You’re tired. I get it. But don’t act like you’re drowning when I could have fixed this a long time ago. Hell, I could’ve bought you time off or flown you somewhere. You're sittin' here sulking like I can’t take care of things.”

You clench your fists, the exhaustion now compounded by frustration. “It’s not about you fixing things, Satoru. Sometimes I just need support—not your money.”

He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Right. So you want to feel miserable instead of letting me help. That’s real smart, princess.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you shove clothes into your bag, the sound of zippers and drawers slamming echoing through the room. You can feel Satoru’s presence behind you, hovering, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Not after that.

“C'mon, princess.” he says, his voice exasperated, like he’s the one who's supposed to be annoyed. “What are you doing? Where do you think you’re going?”

You don’t answer, your hands moving faster, yanking more clothes off hangers, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. You’re so angry you can barely breathe.

“I’ll book us a trip,” Satoru tries again, a hint of desperation creeping into his usually arrogant tone. “How about Paris? We’ll stay at that five-star hotel you like, the one with the private balcony. You love that place.”

Your jaw clenches. “This isn’t about a vacation, Satoru,” you snap, stuffing the last of your things into the bag. “It’s not about your money or your fancy hotels.”

“Then what is it about?” he shoots back, his voice rising with frustration. “You’re acting like I haven’t given you everything. "What more do you want?"

You freeze, bag halfway zipped, your body trembling as you turn to face him. His icy blue eyes are wide, confused, and maybe even a little hurt, but you’re beyond caring. “I want you to see me!” you shout, the words tearing out of you, louder than you intended. “I don’t need you to throw money at the problem! I need you to actually understand what I’m going through!”

Satoru stares at you, speechless for once. His mouth opens, but no words come out. He looks almost... shocked, like he can’t comprehend that his money, his status, can’t fix this. That he can’t fix this.

“Do you even care?” you ask, your voice quieter now, but no less angry. “Do you care about how I feel? Or is it just easier for you to throw cash at me until I stop complaining?”

He’s silent, his gaze hardening as he crosses his arms. “I’m trying to help. What else do you want me to do?”

“I want you to listen!” You throw your hands up in frustration, feeling more alone than ever. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want trips or fancy dinners. I want you to care about me, Satoru. Not just the idea of me.”

His lips press into a thin line, but he says nothing. The silence is louder than any of his words.

As your hand grips the doorknob, ready to leave, Satoru’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and bitter.

“Right, run off to Shoko’s.” he scoffs, his arms crossed defensively. “You always do this, don’t you? The moment things get tough, you bolt. Guess it’s easier to complain to her than actually deal with me.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, stopping you in your tracks. You turn slowly to face him, disbelief clouding your vision. He’s standing there, arms folded, arrogance in his posture.

“I always do this?” you repeat, your voice trembling with anger. “I’ve stayed through everything, Satoru!"

“You’re just like Suguru.” Satoru spits out, the words dripping with bitterness and desperation.

Your hand freezes on the handle. You weren’t expecting that. Slowly, you turn to look at him, and the mask of arrogance has cracked. His eyes are wild, wide with something close to panic. “Running away the moment things get hard,” he continues, his voice shaking slightly. “Is that it? Just gonna leave like he did?”

Your heart skips a beat, anger fading for a moment as something else stirs inside you. You’ve seen Satoru angry before, frustrated, even cold—but this? This is different.

“That’s not fair.” you say quietly, though the anger still simmers beneath the surface. “I’m not leaving because things are hard. I’m leaving because you’re not listening.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pressing into a hard line. Then he snaps, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade, sharp and cold. “Well, fine. Go. I survived him abandoning me, I’ll survive you too.”

His words sting, burning through the air with a finality that makes your breath hitch. It’s a challenge, a defense—his way of masking the fear that’s clawing at him from the inside out. He’s pushing you away before you can leave, just like he’s done with everything else that’s threatened to crack his carefully controlled world.

You stand there, frozen for a moment, staring at him as his walls rise higher, shutting you out. This is what it’s come to. He’s too scared to let you in, too scared to admit that you leaving isn’t something he can just survive—that it’s something that terrifies him.

But he won’t say it. He won’t ask you to stay.

And that’s when you know.

Suguru Geto

You rest under the comfort of your blanket. How many days have you been in this bed? Three days? Four?

The world was just too much right now, and your room was the only security available. It had been a week since Suguru vanished without a word, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and broken trust. Principal Yaga’s words still echoed in your mind—a whole village slaughtered, his parents among the dead.

And not even a text.

You weren’t sure if he was even alive, maybe it would be better if he wasn’t. At least then you wouldn’t have to come to terms with the fact that the love of your life was now a wanted killer.

You took another tissue from the box, blowing into it and tossing the crumpled mess into the garbage can.

Satoru hadn’t responded either, was he okay? Did he know?

Your mind screamed for silence, for the thoughts to stop, but they kept coming, relentless.

“Angel?”

That voice… no it couldn’t be. You lower the covers from your face.

It was

“Hi baby...” his normally soothing voice does little to alleviate the ache in your chest.

“You…” your voice barely a whisper, threatening to break. “I thought you were dead.”

He moves closer, his footsteps barely making a sound on the floor, and you finally take him in. Despite everything, despite the horrors you’ve been told, he looks… normal.

How could he look so much like the Suguru you knew, the Suguru you loved, when everything inside of you was shattered?

Was this the same man who held you close? Whispered sweet nothings in your ear—promised to protect you with his life?

“It’s me, (Y/N).” he says softly, his voice cutting through the silence as if he had read your thoughts.

The tenderness in his tone feels like a knife twisting in your chest. How could he say that—so casually, so easily? Like everything was normal, like your world hadn’t come crashing down around you. You blink, trying to force the tears back, trying to find the right words, but nothing comes.

“Are you?” your voice is small, barely more than a whisper. Doubt lingers in every syllable.

He doesn’t respond to your question. Instead, his gaze softens, and without a word, he pulls the covers off of you. The cold air rushes over your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you had buried yourself in, and for a moment you flinch, instinctively clutching the blanket before you let it slip from your fingers.

His eyes trace over your fragile form, and there’s something in them—a flicker of sympathy, regret, even—but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s the reason for your downward spiral. He knows it too. The weight of it presses on him, though he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he moves with a gentleness you hadn’t expected, sliding his arms under you and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing.

You want to protest, want to ask what he thinks he’s doing, but you’re too tired, too drained to fight. So you let him carry you. His arms are steady, and despite everything, you can’t help but melt in his embrace.

He takes you into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the space as he sets you down gently. You can feel the cool tile under your feet as he kneels in front of the tub, turning the faucet on and testing the temperature.

You had so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to yell at him, curse him, ask him why. But you couldn’t.

He dips his hand under the stream, adjusting the temperature until it’s just right. His movements are deliberate, methodical, as if this is the only way he knows how to show you any kind of care right now.

You stand there, numb and silent, watching him. The man who destroyed your world, now kneeling before you, acting as though he can piece it back together with something as simple as a bath. It feels absurd, almost cruel, but at the same time, you don’t have the strength to stop him.

Suguru rises to his feet, his presence towering yet calm as he began to undress you. Gentle hands pulling his t-shirt off of you, the one you had been clinging onto for days.

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he lifts the shirt over your head, sending a shiver down your spine.

He had seen you in this state before, many times. But this….this was different.

Suguru guides you to the shower, washing your body with a gentleness you missed so deeply.

You close your eyes, letting him take care of you, even though you don’t understand why or how he can. The silence between you grows heavier with every passing second, filled with words unspoken and emotions too tangled to sort out.

Finally, you speak, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. “Why are you here, Suguru?”

His hand pauses for a moment, the washcloth resting against your skin. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but when he answers, his voice is low, steady, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

“Because I….I love you” His voice almost too quiet, as if he’s afraid to say the words out loud.

“Then why, Suguru?” your voice trembles, almost breaking under the weight of your next words. “Is it true? You killed those people?”

The washcloth falls from his hand, splashing into the water as the silence between you deepens. He doesn’t speak right away, and the hesitation in his silence is an answer in itself.

You swallow hard, the air thick with the weight of the truth you already know but can’t bear to accept.

“They were… in the way,” he finally admits, his voice low, almost hollow.

You step out of the shower, the warm water sliding off your skin in slow rivulets. Without thinking, you reach for the towel, wrapping it tightly around yourself like armor.

This isn’t the man you loved, the one who spoke of protecting the weak, of valuing life. Yet, there’s something so heartbreakingly familiar in the way he says it—like a twisted version of the Suguru you knew, now wrapped in darkness.

“But those were people, Suguru,” you say, your voice fragile, as if you’re trying to reach the man you once knew beneath the monster he’s become. “Innocent people. How could you…?”

He takes a deep breath, stepping closer to you, his hand brushing against your skin, cold and distant. “Because this world is broken.” he murmurs. “And I need to fix it. I had to do it. Can’t you see that? We—sorcerers—we’re meant for something greater. And they… they were holding us back.”

You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I don’t understand, Suguru. I don’t understand any of this.”

He steps closer, his hand cupping your face gently, as though trying to reassure you with his touch. "Come with me." he whispers, his voice softer now, pleading. “Run away with me. Together, we can build something new. You don’t have to be a part of this broken world anymore. We can leave it all behind.”

Before you can respond, his lips press against yours, a kiss that’s both gentle and urgent, as though he’s trying to pour every unsaid word, every plea, into this one moment. It’s the Suguru you remember—the Suguru who once made you feel safe, loved.

But the reality of who he’s become crashes down on you.

You pull away, your hands pressed firmly against his chest, creating a wall between you. “No.” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t.”

For a moment, Suguru just stands there, staring at you, his dark eyes searching yours for something—some kind of understanding, some sign that you’ll change your mind. His hand lingers on your cheek, his touch softer now, almost hesitant, as though he’s trying to hold on to whatever connection is left.

But then, slowly, he withdraws, his hand falling back to his side. He straightens up, his expression hardening as he steps away from you, giving you the space you so desperately need. The softness in his eyes fades, replaced by the cold determination you’ve seen before.

“You’ll see,” he says, his voice quiet, but there’s a sharp edge to it now. “One day, you’ll understand. When you see what I’ve seen, when you finally understand the truth about this world—you’ll come around. I know you will.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and without another glance, he turns and walks toward the door, leaving you standing alone, trembling in the silence.

Nanami Kento

Kento was an honest man. There was nothing he ever kept from you. Other people might view him as a hard shell, but you could read him like a book.

So when he came to bed that night, holding you just a little tighter than usual—you knew something was up.

You shifted slightly in his embrace, his grip tightening instinctively as if he feared you might slip away.

“Kento?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the stillness of the room.

“I’ve decided to talk to Gojo tomorrow.” he said quietly, his voice steady but with a hint of resolve. “I want to return to being a sorcerer.”

The words hung in the air, sinking into you like lead. You stiffened, a sharp sting blooming in your chest as you processed his decision.

“Are you seriously considering this?” Your voice trembled with a mix of hurt and disbelief. “You know what that life entails. You’ve seen the consequences. Are you really willing to go back to that danger?”

Kento’s silence was heavier than any response he could have given. His arms, though still holding you close, seemed distant now, as if they were reaching out from across a chasm of uncertainty.

“I’ve thought it through,” he said finally, though his tone lacked the conviction he tried to project. “I need to do this for myself. I can’t keep pretending I’m satisfied with where I am.”

The last words echoed in your ears their weight sinking deep into your heart. “So you’re not satisfied with me?” you whispered, barely able to speak past the knot forming in your throat.

Kento’s eyes widened in shock. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what is it, Kento?” you demanded, frustration and hurt sharpening your words. “We have something good here. You have a good job. You left Jujustu High for a reason! What about Haibara—”

At the mention of Haibara, Kento’s face hardened. His eyes, which had been searching for the right words, now burned with anger and frustration. “Don’t.”

Your eyes widen at his tone. He sighs, trying to catch himself. “This…isn’t about him, or his fate. It’s about my own path, my own choices. You think I’m risking everything without knowing the cost?”

“And what do you expect me to do, Kento?” Your voice cracked, raw emotion rising as you slid out of bed, unable to lie still any longer. “Sit at home and worry about you? Not knowing if you’re going to come back in one piece? I can’t live like that! I can’t live every day with the fear that you might not come back, that you might be hurt or worse?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. You paced the room, your emotions boiling over, while Kento sat still, his gaze following you but offering no solace.

“You’re asking me to accept a life where every day is a gamble with your safety!” You stopped, turning to face him, your chest heaving with emotion. “How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to pretend everything’s okay when the reality is that you might not come back to me? This isn’t just about you, Kento. It’s about us, our future!”

Kento ran a hand through his blond locks, frustration etched into every line of his face. “I’m not asking you to pretend it’s okay. I’m asking you to understand that this is something I need to do for myself, even if it means risking everything.”

You blinked, tears blurring your vision as his words sank in. “And what if everything we have is the cost?”

The question lingered, echoing in the space between you. Kento rose from the bed, standing tall before you, but the weight of the moment seemed to bow his shoulders.

He stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped your face. His eyes, filled with a deep sadness, searched yours, looking for understanding that he knew might never come. “I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You need to know that.”

You shook your head, your voice breaking. “But that isn’t enough… is it? It never will be…”

There was a heavy silence between you, the weight of your words pressing down on both of you.

“I… can’t watch you throw your life away, Kento.”

He took a deep breath, the sound heavy with resignation. "Then… we’ve both made our decision."

His hands, which had held you with such tenderness, felt distant as you pulled away. You took a step back, a sob catching in your throat.

He opens his mouth, but no words come out with a trembling breath, he stepped forward and gently pulled you into his arms. The embrace was tender, filled with the weight of finality.

He buried his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent one last time as if trying to imprint it into his memory. The warmth of his body, once a comfort, now felt like a dagger in your chest.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his voice strained. The words were barely audible, but the sentiment hung heavy in the air.

Kento lingered for a moment, his hand sliding from your back to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed away the tear you hadn’t realized had fallen, and his expression softened with a promise you weren’t sure either of you could believe.

“I’ll come back,” he whispered, his voice strained but resolute. “Somehow… I’ll find my way back to you. One day.”

You clung to him for a moment longer, feeling the ache of goodbye in every fiber of your being, before he slowly pulled away. Leaving you.

2K notes · View notes

asterafroditis · 4 months ago

Text

𐔌 . ⋮ felled by fear.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Malleus Draconia x gn! reader

𓏵 734 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 2nd Person POV, no pronouns used, angst, hurt/comfort

I missed posting angst aqqq (｡>_<｡) feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

You weren’t afraid of Malleus Draconia. Not at first.

For as long as you’d known him, he had been gentle—kind, even, in his own distant way. He spoke to you when others fled. He found your presence amusing, interesting, even welcomed. He had never given you a reason to fear him.

Until he did.

It wasn’t directed at you. It wasn’t because of you. But it didn’t matter. The raw, overwhelming power that crackled through the air that night, the sheer force of his rage—it left an imprint on your bones, an instinctual terror you couldn’t shake.

Malleus hadn’t even noticed at first. He had dealt with whatever had offended him, turned to you with the same calm expression he always wore, and spoken your name like nothing had changed.

But something had.

You flinched.

It was slight—barely there—but he caught it. The way your shoulders tensed. The way your breath hitched. The way you hesitated before meeting his gaze.

You had never done that before.

He didn’t say anything. Not then. He only walked you back to your dorm, the silence stretching longer than usual. And in the following days, he observed.

You still greeted him, still smiled, still treated him with the same kindness as always—but there was something different now. A hesitation in your movements. A fraction of a second where you measured your words before speaking. A subtle shift in your posture whenever his magic so much as flickered in the air.

You were afraid.

And Malleus didn’t know how to fix it.

It came to a head one evening, under the familiar comfort of the night sky. He had invited you for a walk—as he often did—but tonight, you were quieter than usual. He watched you, the soft glow of fireflies reflecting in his somber green eyes, and finally, he asked,

“Do you truly fear me now?”

You froze. His voice wasn’t accusing, nor was it sad. It was simply… searching. As if he wanted to understand.

You hesitated, your fingers curling into your sleeves. The answer should have been simple. No, of course not. He was your friend. He had never harmed you. But the words stuck in your throat.

Malleus sighed, looking away. “I see.”

He didn’t. Not really. He had been feared all his life—by strangers, by students, by those who had never even spoken to him. But you had been different. You had never once recoiled at the sound of his name. You had never whispered behind his back or cowered when he entered a room.

And yet, here you were now, struggling to reassure him.

“I don’t—” You stopped, inhaling sharply. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Malleus tilted his head, listening.

“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t…” You swallowed. “That night. It was a lot. And I didn’t realize how powerful you were until I saw it firsthand.”

He was silent for a long moment before he let out a quiet hum. “So now you look at me differently.”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but that would be a lie. Because you did.

Malleus didn’t say anything else. He only turned his gaze back to the stars, his expression unreadable. He had always been feared. He had thought himself used to it. But somehow, from you, it hurt.

You bit your lip. Your first instinct was to comfort him—to tell him that everything was fine, that things would go back to how they were. But fear wasn’t something you could just switch off. And knowing Malleus, he would never force you to.

So instead, you took a step closer.

Malleus blinked, glancing at you.

Another step. Then another. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you reached out, hesitantly brushing your fingers against his sleeve. A small touch. A quiet reassurance.

“I’m still here, Malleus,” you murmured. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes widened slightly, something unreadable flickering across his face. Then, slowly, he closed his eyes and exhaled.

“…That is enough,” he murmured. And this time, when he looked at you, there was the faintest trace of a smile.

Not everything was fixed in a single night. But you were still here. And for Malleus, that was what he needed.

435 notes · View notes

yasministration · 6 months ago

Text

(Not so) Friendly competition - Regulus Black

summary: Sirius asks out Reggie's best friend, and he is so bothered by it that he has to finally tell her how he feels. wc: 2.1k+

When Regulus saw Sirius leaning against the wall with his signature flirty smile right outside your transfigurations class, he literally felt his blood boil. You were holding your books close to your chest, laughing at something the older Black brother said. Regulus felt his jaw clench, a resenting glare on his face. He had sped walked all the way from his History of Magic class so he could walk with you down to potions, like he did every single week, only to find you with the one person he avoided at all cost.

Regulus didn’t understand why Sirius was speaking to you, and especially not why he was flirting with you. You were Regulus’s best friend, and everyone in this castle knew that, so why would Sirius deliberately cross paths with Regulus just to speak to you, when he could have any other girl in the castle? Regulus tried resting his face, though he found it to be a lot harder than expected. Instead, he puffed his chest out, confidently strolling over to where you stood with his brother. He intentionally avoided looking at Sirius while saying “Hey. You ready to go?” You smiled widely at Regulus’s presence, a relieved look on your face. You shifted your books to one arm, using your now free hand to slither down to Regulus’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his. You noted the way his face instantly softened, and you were sure Sirius did too. You turned to the older brother, smiling gently at him before letting Regulus drag you away from him.

Sirius watched your retreating form, sighing when Remus pushed himself off the wall behind him, commenting “Well that didn’t go too well, did it?” Sirius scoffed, turning to face his friends “She only pretended not to be interested because of Regulus. You can tell she wanted to smile.” Remus and James just stared back at Sirius unconvincingly. “Like, really smile.” He didn’t know when his affection for you started, but he never missed a shot at someone he liked. Even if you were his brother’s best friend, and perhaps crush. His brother, whose relationship with has deteriorated to almost nothing since he left the household. Behind him, Remus shot James a concerned look, before saying “Sirius, she held his hand!”

You were slightly concerned about Regulus, and his silence as he walked with you to class. You rubbed your thumb in circles on the soft skin of Regulus’s hand, hoping to slightly calm him down. Regulus was quiet all throughout your class, though you felt his eyes on you while you were taking notes down. His eyes bored into your side, as though trying to read your mind. He didn’t take the lead when you were brewing your potion together, which was unusual for him. He listened to you read out the instructions, and more than once asked you to repeat yourself due to his lack of attention. He just had so many questions. At the end of class, Regulus didn’t even realise class was over until you stood up, packing your things away, and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Regulus jumped up, scurrying to follow you out of the potions classroom, just a few minutes from the common room.

He followed you through the hallways and into the open portrait to the common room, sitting down next to you on the leather couch in front of the fireplace. Regulus felt your hesitation, mouth opening and closing before you finally asked “Everything okay?” Which triggered Regulus’s string of questions. “Why was Sirius talking to you? Was he flirting with you? No, why was he flirting with you? Did he want anything from you?” You put your hand over his, debating on whether you should tell him the truth or not.

Sirius was walking with Remus and James, debriefing the result of their most recent prank when he caught sight of you walking out of your lesson. He fixed his posture, calling out “Hey y/n!” You were obviously surprised by the call of your name from the boy, a look of confusion overtaking your features. You seriously considered ducking your head down and walking past the Black brother, but he already managed to strut over to you, leaning his side on the wall right in front of you. You blinked a couple of times, muttering “Black.” The boy had ran his eyes over your body, biting his bottom lip softly as he landed his gaze on your eyes. You had furrowed your eyebrows, glancing behind him towards Lupin and Potter, who were intently staring at your interaction. “Hey, you should hang out with us. We’d definitely appreciate someone with your beauty and presence. And, well, we’d be way better company than Regulus and your group of little Slytherin friends.”

Well, he definitely fumbled that one, he realised, by the way your eyebrows raised, face sporting an unimpressed look. “Because there’s nothing a girl appreciates more than someone insulting her friends.” Sirius raised his hands in surrender, adding “That came out wrong. Look, I think you're amazing. Would you go out with me?” You laughed in shock, eyes lighting up with amusement. You looked to your side, expecting a friend beside you so you could immediately make fun of the situation, but instead, you spotted Regulus on the other side of the room, glaring at the both of you. You looked back at Sirius and cocked your head to the side, a smile on your face. “No. I don’t think I will.” Sirius’s face fell, and he straightened up insecurely. “No?” You hummed, glancing to your side just in time for Regulus to pop up next to you. Oh thank goodness, you sighed.

“I don’t know why he was flirting with me.” You answered, and you saw Regulus’s jaw clench at your response. “I mean, well.” You inhaled sharply and smiled softly, trying not to overshare, but Regulus had already caught the fact that you were hiding something. “Well?” You pouted, lifting up Regulus’s hand and lacing your fingers through his. “Don’t get mad.” You pleaded, before adding “He asked me out.” You could see the redness travel up Regulus’s neck in anger. “I said no.” you whispered, hoping it would make him feel better. You cupped his jaw, watching closely as he placed a hand over yours on his face, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply. Regulus moved his head away from your hand slightly, just so he had enough space to press a kiss on your palm. You felt your cheeks heat up, leaning closer to Regulus and brushing a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to get angry. He just, he makes me mad. I don’t get why he’d ask you out. Even if he liked you!” He raised his voice, hands raised in confusion, before slumping back against the couch. “Even if he does like you, I don’t know why he would try to steal you from me when he can have anyone else.” You leaned forward, moving a strand of hair from Regulus’s face to press a kiss on his forehead. “He couldn’t steal me from you if he tried, Reg.” You reassured him, straightening up on the couch and opening a textbook in front of you.

Regulus observed you while you started up on your pre-reading for your next lesson, waiting until you were engrossed in the textbook, lifting up your wand to practice a spell, before he began his journey up to the Gryffindor common room. It wasn’t long until he finally reached the Fat Lady’s portrait, his fury allowing his legs to carry him at a faster pace than usual. But to be fair, nothing seemed usual about today. He waited in front of the portrait until a group of young boys finally walked up to the common room. “Hey!” Regulus snapped, catching the entire groups attention. “You,” He started, nodding at the boy at the front of the group. “Get me Sirius Black.” The poor boy frantically nodded, muttering the password to the common room before running through the big gap in the portrait.

It didn’t take long for Sirius to appear, a cocky smile on his face as he took in the view of his younger brother. “Regulus Black.” He greeted, opening his arms in welcome. Regulus trudged towards him, grabbing his older brother by the collar and pushing him back against the wall, seething “What the fuck is your problem?” Sirius threw his hands up in surrender, saying “Hey, calm down.” “Calm down!? You decide to ask out my best friend after not even speaking to me for five years, and you want me to calm down?”

“Mate, she literally laughed in my face when I asked her out, so yeah, I’d expect you to be calm.” Regulus loosened his grip on Sirius’s collar at the new information, but tightened it once more when he remembered why he was there. “That doesn’t fucking matter. You made the decision to walk out of my life, so stick with it. Stay away from my friends and stop fucking with my life.” Regulus spat, pushing Sirius into the wall as he let go of him, turning away from him and beginning his route to the common room.

When Regulus finally returned to the common room, he didn’t find you in your spot on the couch, and your things were gone. Regulus sighed, running his hands over his hair and making his way to his dorm. When he turned the knob to his dorm, pushing the door open, his eyes widened, finding you sat on his bed with your legs crossed. He says your name once, watching you watch him. “I heard something interesting.” You mumbled, standing up. Regulus’s eyes widened, and he immediately cursed whatever power allowed gossip at Hogwarts to travel faster than he could. “Did you?” He asked, his breath trembling. “Regulus, did you seriously wait for me to start studying to go yell at your brother? You know I would’ve loved to come with you.” Regulus laughed in nervous relief, dropping his head down to look at the floor. “Tell me what’s really wrong.” You whispered, taking both his hands in yours. Regulus took a step toward you, close enough to rest his forehead against yours, and he shyly mumbled “I like you.” You stepped away from Regulus, looking at him with an amused smile.

“Regulus, you think I don’t know that?” The boy’s cheeks flushed at the revelation, his face turning rosy. “I know you like me. I’m just more disappointed that you don’t know I like you too.” Regulus’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “For fuck’s sake, Reg. I thought you were upset for some other reason, not because you like me. That’s, that’s-” Regulus cut you off “So you’ve known I like you, and you like me back, and you haven’t done anything about it?” Your eyes softened, and you almost looked at him with pity. “I thought you knew too.” Regulus let go of both your hands, cupping your jaw, eyes slipping from your eyes to your lips. “Well since I know now.” He mumbled, and you trailed your hands up to his chest as he began to lean in. When your lips finally connected, you felt a surge of passion flow between you. Regulus slid his tongue into your mouth, and one of your hands fell from his chest so you could hook a finger in his belt hoop and pull him closer to you. Regulus’s lips separated from yours with a loud squelching sound, and you immediately burst into a fit of giggles that had Regulus blushing deeply, and mumbling “What?” Though he had a matching smile on his face, and was pulling you even closer to him by his grip on your waist. He pecked your smiling lips, and you chased his kiss, throwing your arms over his shoulders to pull him closer.

A few days later, when Sirius was making his way to his Potions lesson, he turned the hallway to find your back pressed against the wall, passionately making out with his younger brother who has his hips pressed against yours, arms locking you between him and the wall. Your hands were cupping Regulus’s jaw, lips melding with his. Sirius abruptly stopped in his tracks, and he huffed silently, looking away with disgust when he caught a glimpse of your tongues moving against each other. Sirius put his head down, walking past you both, and it was only then that Regulus separated from you, a knowing smile on his face.

878 notes · View notes

atinystarcafe · 1 month ago

Text

Mingi fic recs

────୨ৎ────

✴ : smut ᯓᡣ𐭩 : absolute favourites [Last updated: 22.05.2025] ⋆˙⟡ If any links don't work anymore please let me know I'll get it fixed as soon as possible ^^

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Series ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Strangers By Nature - @seongwars | arranged marriage, enemies to lovers (ONGOING)

After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever.

Princess | Part 2 - @choisanboobenthusiast ✴ | sub bf!mingi (COMPLETED)

Mingi is inexperienced, you're not. He finally feels ready to take the next steps in your relationship and you find he is surprisingly more subby than you would have thought.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Cause Baby You're My Muse - @makeitmingi | idol!mingi x producer!reader (COMPLETED)

You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Camgirl - @yungistiny ✴ | emo stoner!mingi x camgirl!reader (ONGOING)

mingi just really needs some cash and he was told all he had to do was hold a camera. simple enough. he just didn’t anticipate the type of content he’d be helping to create

A Familiar Kind Of New - @wooyoungiewritings ✴ | nerdy!mingi x popular girl!reader (COMPLETED)

You, the most popular girl at school, and Mingi, the school’s geek and punching bag, grow a friendship at the library after school as he tutors you. You beg him to come to prom but instead, he disappears. No texts, no goodbye, nothing. But after 10 years, he suddenly appears again. The quiet, nerdy boy who used to be bullied and ignored, is now a successful, confident and heartbreakingly handsome man. As time pass, you both open up about the past and maybe you realize that maybe he was never just your tutor. Maybe he was the one that got away.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Oneshots and drabbles ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

23:46 - @seonghwaddict (the fav emoji didnt wanna work here but this is the cutest thing EVER) | friends to lovers au, roommate!mingi

in which your best friend is a little hard to wake up.

I Want You - @k-hotchoisan ✴ | friends with benefits to exes to lovers au

The girl in front of him is stunning, but even when he’s all over her, he can’t seem to get you out of his head. So when his phone buzzes and it’s you, he finds himself standing before you with another chance he’s willing to gamble.

Sweet Juice - @hongism ✴ | strangers to lovers, magic au, witches/warlocks au

the new apothecary in your small village is harboring a dark secret, you're certain of it, if only because he bears a starkly familiar crest on his shop sign - one that denotes the presence of magic.

Lovers On The Sun - @byuntrash101 ✴ | outlaw au, friends to strangers to lovers au

you never understood why mingi chose that life. chose to be an outcast, a loveless bandit. over the years you came to terms with it. you got married, you grew. but when the outlaw finds himself gravely wounded his instincts drag him back to you. to the person he's willing to sacrifice everything for.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pretty When You Cry - @suunani ✴ | sub bf!mingi

a completely stupid argument, and now mingi is crying for your attention.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Unveiled Temptation - @reveriebae ✴ | rockstar!mingi

You swore you’d never meet an online friend in person—until Mingi. One secret visit to his performance, one photo sent without a word, and now he’s found you. And tonight, he’s going to ruin you.

Bunny In His Bed - @reveriebae ✴ | best friends' brother au, roommate!mingi

You're the soft, innocent girl who only ever had one vanilla experience—with no idea what real filth could feel like. That is, until you end up rooming with your best friend’s older brother, Mingi. A pervert with a teasing mouth and no self-restraint when it comes to your cute sleep dresses and breathy little moans. He takes it slow, then ruins you completely—making you beg, cry, squirt, and ride him until you’re too dumb to think. But he still makes you breakfast after, calling you his princess in between filthy whispers.

Home In Your Arms - @03jyh23 | bf!mingi

the one where mingi missed you

Call A Friend - @gingersxng ✴

when you’ve tried everything to make yourself satisfied and nothing helps, the only thing left to try is to call a friend, who is more than happy to help you.

Can't Help Myself - @xomakara ✴ | brothers best friend au, roommate!mingi

Mingi comes home early from a trip to find his best friend's older sister, you, roaming the apartment in a large shirt and panties. And god, does he want you.

Wanted Dead Or Alive - @xomakara ✴ | western au, cowboy!mingi x heiress!reader

A handsome cowboy is injured while tending to a wild horse he's rescued miles from town. You're on the run, and can't afford to stop on your way to your destination – but you can't ignore the wounded man when you see him, and decide to help him despite the personal risk.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Ranching Hearts - @xomakara ✴ | modern western au, cowboy!mingi x overworked accountant!reader

You're an overworked accountant with little time for a love life. Desperate for a break, you join your girlfriends on vacation at a dude ranch. Mingi, the handsome ranch owner is instantly attracted to you and vice versa. But Mingi is about to lose the ranch and everything he's worked for. Will you extend your stay to help him out?

All in - @tenelkadjowrites ✴ | best friends to lovers au

A night of drunken debauchery with your best friend in Las Vegas leads to something you never could imagine.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 A Night To Forget - @jjbalice | bf!mingi, !description of panic attack

Mingi wakes up to a feeling he's never experienced before, and he's pretty sure he's dying.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Office Affairs - @callmeagardengnome | office!au, coworker!mingi

working for a job promotion is the smart thing to do, but working to make song mingi fall in love with you is way more fun.

But It's Better If You Do - @frenchkisstheabyss | rockstar!mingi x chubby tattoo artist!reader

Your ongoing love affair with your rocker client is all fine and dandy until you begin to catch feelings for him that send you into a spiral that isn't fine nor dandy.

Touch Up! - @intheemptymirror | idol!mingi x stylist!reader

mingi loves to push the boundaries of a proper idol-stylist work relationship. even in the work place itself.

Last Pick - @touchme-teezme ✴ | best friends to lovers?, collegeboy!mingi

you and mingi are best friends. he likes you, but you love him. one fight changes the trajectory of your friendship forever.

Imprint - @kitten4sannie ✴ | werewolf!mingi x hunter!reader

you seemingly end up biting off more than you can chew upon discovering that the beast you hunted down for dinner is not what it seems.

Sweet - @fallinforgyu ✴ | sub bf!mingi

you and mingi celebrate your anniversary and fuck for the first time <3

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Nobody New - @xlostinthedreamfics ✴ | exes to lovers au

After 2 years of living in a new city, you decide to sign up for a pottery class to step out of your comfort zone and hopefully make some friends, only to find your ex-boyfriend Mingi has signed up for the same pottery class.

Right Next Door - @kysstar | friends to lovers au, neighbor!mingi

you and mingi have been dancing around your feelings for far too long—neighbors, friends, something more. neither of you says it. but everything else does. Eventually, something has to give.

You Can Take It, Right? - @kathaelipwse | best friends to lovers au

What starts as harmless teasing turns into something far more dangerous when Mingi decides he’s done playing around. Trapped between him and the couch, you’re forced to answer the question—will you push him away or pull him closer?

Sparks And Bruises - @hongjoongspoetry | soulmates au, exes to lovers au, underground boxer!Mingi x real estate agent!Reader

In a world where everyone at the age of eighteen gets a metal meter implanted on their wrist that shows the amount of danger your soulmate is in. You and Mingi have known each other since high school, but went through a nasty fallout after his love for boxing turned into a dangerous gamble with his life as the price. Years later, you stumble over his injured form on the doorstep of your apartment building. Not having the heart to turn him away like all those years ago, you invite him inside with the intention to clean his wounds, but get a lot more than you bargained for.

By Her Side - @arilevenatz | modern royalty au, bodyguard!Mingi x princess!reader

Grease And Oil - @bvidzsoo ✴ | mechanic!mingi

Sleepy - @minkieater ✴ | boyfriend!mingi

────୨ৎ────

#mist🫧 recommends #ateez fic recs #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #mingi fic recs #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi imagines #mingi fluff

324 notes · View notes

meanderingwistera · 3 months ago

Text

Love, Magic and other things gone wrong

Summary - After trying multiple dating apps you give up and try to love yourself. A love potion should help with that. Nothing can go horribly wrong and drag the cute guy next door into it…right?

Pairing - Suguru Geto x Reader

Content - Fluff, smut, oral f receiving, p i v sex, mostly fluff tho, Witchy! Reader, magical accidents, love potions, artist! Geto, he has TATTOOS, pet names

Word count - 9k

A/N - This is my first full fic that I am posting on here from Ao3! If you prefer that format it is here!

Your love life is… horrendous, you are even being nice about it.

The last date you had gone on had told you that he just “wasn’t ready for anything serious��, only to turn around and change his status to in a relationship within two days after that. But he was the latest in the line of terrible dates you had gone on within the past two years.

You had tried almost everything but you had come to one conclusion-

“I am going to end up a lonely cat lady!” You whine and lay your head down on the cafe table. Utahime looks down at you over the rim of her mug. Her brown eyes look a bit amused at your horrible situation.

“I really doubt it,” She says and pats your head, “Men just suck.”

You want to argue but you remember one of your dates saying that “if you just lost some weight you would be so hot”, so you just groan instead of saying yes. Men do suck or maybe just the ones you match with on shitty dating apps are.

“What do I do?” You ask and shift your head to the side so you can look up at your friend.

“To be honest, you just need to be comfortable with yourself. Practice self love first, then good men will find you.” She explains and sips her tea.

“Maybe you are right.” You agree, still feeling defeated. “Do you have a quick fix for my self love?”

She snorts, “Are you asking for a love potion?”

“You said it, not me!” You remark with a laugh and sit up.

Utahime rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“Give me a few days and I will drop it off, but-” Her face turns serious, “only use a small amount. And I would suggest only drinking it when you are alone and infuse it into something so the effects are minimal. Otherwise you could fall in love with your reflection or someone random.”

You readily nod, how hard could that be?

After you take a little bit of that love potion for a week you see results. You feel better and as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. When you go out you don’t scrutinize yourself for your weight or how you look. Your deep set insecurities fade into the background as you look at yourself. It feels so good.

Today is a quiet day for you. Saturdays are one of your off days so you designated it as a chill day. No big agenda or anything to do, just basking in that fact that you don’t have to do anything, which is the best kind of day.

You wake up at nine-thirty but lay in bed for a half hour before getting up to make breakfast. The sun shines in through your sliding glass door out to the small balcony. It engulfs the morning in a warm glow as you start the coffee pot. Starting breakfast you crack a few eggs into a pan and turn on the stove.

While the coffee brews and you cook your eggs on a low heat, you pull out your tarot deck for a quick morning reading. You usually work mornings so when you have an opportunity for a morning read you feel giddy. The deck is familiar and comfortable in your hands as you shuffle the cards.

After you feel like they are sufficiently shuffled you pull out three cards and lay them face down. You flip the first card and wince. The tower glares up at you as you feel very uncomfortable at its presence.

So it looks like you will be having a crisis, delightful.

“Okay-” You say to yourself and take a deep breath, “let’s see what is going on.”

You flip over the next card to see the ace of cups. That is significantly better than the tower. A new emotional connection but is that before or after the crisis or is that the crisis? You sigh and already feel yourself overthinking.

The last card is flipped and you feel a bit better about all of this. The sun card shines like a beacon of hope in this reading. A calm after the storm, a peace after a time of crisis. It looks like the crisis will happen first, a new emotional connection will somehow be involved but happiness will come after.

You snap a picture of the reading and send it to the group chat with Utahime, Shoko and Yuki.

______

You

Guess who is going to

have a crisis?

Yuki

Don’t you have a crisis

every other week?

Shoko

Don’t be rude

Utahime

Yeah, it’s every two weeks Yuki

You

I don’t know why I am friends

with you guys

Yuki

Because you love us?

______

You roll your eyes at your friends and go back to your eggs.

The rest of your morning and early afternoon go well. You eat your breakfast, work on some personal projects and lay around watching tv. Occasionally you get a text from the group chat but it is mostly about things unrelated to your upcoming crisis.

You are sitting on your couch at about four o'clock, starting a book that you have been putting off reading, when you realize that you haven’t started on dinner yet. It is a bit early but you can feel hunger start to creep in. Putting a bookmark in your place you close the book and get up.

The cabinets are almost bear except for a lone box of spaghetti noodles. You grab it out of the cabinet and set it on the counter. Looking in the fridge you don’t see any sauce so you may have to settle for garlic butter pasta. You see some chicken that you can put in it.

“Score!”

Grabbing out the chicken you put it next to everything else and get to work on your makeshift dinner. You turn on the stove, put the pan on it and cut the chicken. You season the chicken well before put it on the pan to cook.

You are craving more coffee so you put on another pot. In addition to the water you put in a tablespoon of that love potion just for fun. You don’t plan on seeing anyone today so you want to mess with the dose a bit.

Once you have the coffee on you walk out to water your hoard of plants on your balcony. Most of them had been gifts but your favorite is the lavender plant you had been given as a housewarming gift.

You suspect you will have to replant her soon so she can grow better. She is one of the plants you use the most in your teas and recipes because of lavender’s calming qualities. Utahime also uses lavender in her witch stuff so you are technically her supplier.

The sound of another sliding door breaks you out of your thoughts. To your right the sliding door opens and a man steps out with a pack of cigarettes. Both of you look equally shocked to see each other. Then you remember that you are still in your pajamas.

He looks at you and you look back. Trying to break the awkward silence the man gives you a small wave. You quickly wave back before going back to watering your many plants.

Normally you would not care but this man is different. He and his friend had moved in about a year ago. You had immediately noticed him. Maybe it was the hair, tattoos or gauges; but no matter what it was you were hooked.

He was cleverly dubbed, “Hot neighbor guy” in your circle of friends. You kept them updated on all the small details you had picked up about him. Like that he really likes rock music and that his hands are usually stained with paint.

So now you try not to stare at his broad shoulders that are on full display in his black tank top. His side profile is accentuated by the evening sun behind him. You need to be normal, friendly but not too much-

“Why do you have so many plants?”

You immediately jump out of your skin at his sudden question, then smoothly respond,

“What?”

A blush tints your cheeks as you debate running away into the woods and never returning.

This man has the audacity to lean over the rail towards you with a cigarette between his teeth and repeat his question.

“Why do you have so many plants? I always wondered why you had so many.”

“Oh! Most of them were gifts in high school,” You say and stand up straight after you finish watering your last plant, “I had a phase and now feel obligated to keep them alive.”

He chuckles a bit and lights the cigarette, “I get that, I took in a stray once and now I am stuck living with him.”

“Your roommate?” You ask and he nods.

“He has little to no self preservation so I get to save him from himself.”

You laugh and he smiles, his snake bites becoming more prominent on his lips.

“How did you-” You start to say only to be cut off by the smoke alarm screaming at you.

Your chicken is burning.

Not wasting any time you fling open your door and turn off the burner. After you run to the smoke alarm to try to reset it. Only to find that it is too far up the wall for you to reach. Now you were not short but it is ridiculously high up on your wall.

Your quickly thought out plan B was to beat the alarm with a couch cushion. Whether it was to hopefully dislodge the thing from the wall or fan away the smoke you don’t know but what else can you do? Sadly your brilliant idea doesn’t work so you just beat your wall with a cushion and hope it stops soon.

A knock at your door makes you give up on your valiant attempt at stopping the shrieking alarm. With a sense of defeat you walk to the door. Couch cushion in hand you open the front door to see “Hot neighbor guy” at your door. This is probably his first impression of you, a woman who has too many plants and burns chicken, how great.

“Do you need help?” He asks, because of course he is still nice to you, with genuine concern on his face.

“If you don’t mind!” You say trying to be cheerful as your reputation with this guy lies tattered on the ground between you, “If not I will just wait for it to stop.”

The corners of his lips quirk up at your tone. You move aside to let him in, you are then immediately struck by the fact that you haven’t cleaned up your apartment enough for it to be prepared for someone to come over. But it is far too late as he walks to the alarm.

He reaches up, his shirt riding up, to grab the alarm. Your eyes, attracted by the movement, travel down to see a tiger tattoo on his hip. You don’t look at that and you won’t think about it later either. He pushes a button and the alarm goes blissfully silent. You sigh in relief and he chuckles.

“Well, at least you can take care of plants because your prospects of becoming a handyman are slim.” He says with a grin.

“The only thing holding me back is irritatingly high placed smoke alarms, other than that I would do great.” You say back then turn a bit shy as you continue, “Thank you though, is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Well now that the smoke is gone I can smell coffee, can I have some?” He asks you and reaches out his hand, “And I am Suguru by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Suguru,” You respond and take his outstretched hand. His palms are bit rough as he shakes your hand and you introduce yourself.

“And I am happy to share my coffee!” You agree with a smile and turn to go back to the kitchen. He follows you and waits by your island. You grab a mug out of the cupboard for him. “Do you like cream or sugar?”

“No, black will be just fine.” He says and sits on one of the stools.

After pouring the coffee you slide the cup over and he takes it gently. His hands are larger than yours and you see faint patches of dried purple paint.

“Let me go put back the cushion.” You say and walk into the living room. With a soft hum you arrange the cushions in their proper place.

Looking back you see that your work is good and begin to make your way to the kitchen. As you enter the kitchen you come to a halt as you look at the coffee pot. You then realize that you put the love potion into the water for the coffee.

Oh no.

Subtly you glance over at Geto who sips the coffee blissfully unaware of your fuck up. He looks fine? There isn’t any change in behavior so far. So you decide to make yourself some coffee and observe instead of doing anything irrational.

You reach up and get another mug only for Suguru to hand it down to you. His chest is almost against your back as he hands it to you. Your breath hitches slightly as he doesn’t move too far from you as you pour yourself coffee. His hands ghost your waist and you are ninety-nine percent sure that it has kicked in.

What the hell do you do?!

“Your really cute like this.” He says and it’s dangerously low. You shiver at the tone of his voice.

“Suguru?” You ask, trying to act nonchalant and not like you are having a crisis.

“I like the way you say my name.” He says and you turn so you can see him. That was a bad move because he puts his hands on the counter behind you, closing you in.

Your breath is short and your heart is pounding in your chest. Suguru’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your slightly parted lips. He isn’t even discreet about it.

Before you can come up with any semblance of a plan to get out of this predicament your brain shuts off.

Suguru leans in and kisses you. It starts off slow and sweet. His mouth moves against yours softly, like he is savoring the taste of you. You wonder what you taste like to him. He tastes like black coffee, you usually don’t like black coffee but you don’t mind it if Suguru is kissing you.

You lean in, chasing his kiss and his tongue enters your mouth. Moaning a bit you feel his head tilt so he can get further. He swallows up your moans greedily.

Suguru pulls back for just a second so he can turn you both around. You are a little confused about what he is doing until he picks you up and sets you on the island. In the heat of the moment you open your legs so he can slot himself between them.

His mouth crashes back into yours quickly after. You run a hand up into his hair, trying to find purchase as he kisses you like a man possessed. Accidentally you tug and he groans into your mouth. His hands grip your hips tightly as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

Suguru moves from your mouth to your neck. He nibbles on your neck and you jolt at the sudden sensation. You begin to grind down as he chuckles against your skin. The cold metal of his snake bites turn you on even more as he kisses where he was biting your skin like a peace offering.

His right hand moves from your hips to your tigh and you remember that you should be pushing him away. This isn’t really him, just a signifect of that potion. Still breathing heavily you push him back. He looks a little confused but doesn’t complain about you push him off.

“I- uh- don’t want to go that far yet!” You squeak out, both your hands on his shoulders. “Not that it is bad in any way-”

Suguru blinks a bit before nodding at your words, “Sorry, I was far too forward.”

“No! Your fine, it just me that is the problem.” You inwardly groan as you use that stupid line. “Are you free tomorrow?”

He seems to think about this before nodding.

“I am free about two if you want to go out?” You suggest to him.

He obviously isn’t in his right mind and you don’t want to take advantage of that. You would feel horrible if you caused him pain. Hopefully he will have snapped out of it by the time for your date rolls around or have forgotten this entirely.

Suguru smiles at you and your legs feel weak, “See you at two then.”

With a quick peck to your lips, and him putting his phone number in your phone, Suguru excuses himself from your apartment, leaving you reeling on your kitchen counter.

You sit there for a second absorbing what happened within the last fifteen minutes of your life. Reaching a hand up you feel your lips that Suguru was kissing just a minute ago.

Hoping down off the counter you feel that your legs are still weak from all that. But that doesn’t stop you from getting to your phone and frantically pressing on Utahime’s contact. She will hopefully know how to help you.

The phone rings three times before she picks up.

“Hey!” She says more excited then you are because of your current situation.

“Hey…” You say cautiously and you can practically hear her eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What happened?” Utahime asks you

“So I might have burnt my chicken talking to ‘Hot neighbor guy’,” Utahime snorts at your opening statement, “then he fixed my smoke alarm- which was so hot by the way- anyway as repayment I gave him a cup of coffee- which may have that love potion you gave to me infused in it.”

Dead silence.

“How much did he have?” She asks you slowly.

“Enough to furiously make out with me on my counter for five minutes.” You answer quickly.

Utahime groans, “How much did you put into the coffee?”

“Oh!” You say, understanding what she meant now, “I used about a tablespoon.”

“Okay so it should wear off in about a day.” Utahime says with relief.

You check the clock and it is just a bit before five. So you just have to wait until five for it to wear off. Your heart deflates a little at the idea of not going on a real date with him but love potions are cheating in the war that is modern dating.

“That’s good.” You answer, “Also do you think my black crop top looks better with my flare jeans or that cute slit skirt with stars on it?”

You hear a hum on the other end of the line as she thinks, “Skirt would be better since it is getting warmer but I would pair it with a sweater.”

“I agree, also tell Shoko Hi for me!”

“Good luck.” She says and you hang up the call.

Now you just need to survive this date and hopefully the potion will have worn off by then. As long as you play it cool you will past this crisis.

You can totally do that.

Suguru has always been a very calm and controlled person. He prides himself on his restraint and his patience. So he doesn’t understand what just happened. Not that he didn’t want to- but where did that come from?

Suguru had noticed you as soon as they moved in. You had passed by him in the hallway when he was moving his stuff in. He had been so distracted by you and your smile and bright eyes. Satoru laughed his ass off when he almost dropped the box he was carrying in because he was staring at you.

His eyes would always search the hallway for you when he would go to his classes or the studio where he painted most of the time. You would always just be entering your apartment as he would make his way up the stairs. He would always just miss you so when he managed to see you on your balcony he had internally cheered.

And when your smoke alarm went off he practically sprinted across the apartment, out his door and to yours to help you. Satoru had laughed at his mad dash but Suguru didn’t care. He found it endearing that you even offered him a chance to help you.

But after that cup of coffee he felt more desperate for you. Like there was a burning feeling under his skin and the only thing that could help was your touch. His overwhelming need for you and your attention seemed to override all his critical thinking.

Suguru debates pulling his own hair out at the fact he was so close to fucking you on your counter and you didn’t seem confident in pushing him off of you. You probably think he is some fuck-boy trying to get into your pants and he is really ashamed of that.

Slowly he opens the apartment door to an expectant Satoru. He sits on the couch with an amused expression. Debating whether or not to avoid this conversation altogether Suguru walks over to the coffee table where his pack of cigarettes are.

“Sooo” Satoru says with a grin, “when is the wedding?”

Suguru glares at him hard.

Satoru puts his hands up in a placating gesture, “Just asking! She did let you help her right?”

“Yep.” Suguru says, hoping that he doesn’t delve deeper.

But it is never that easy with Satoru.

“And?” He pushes leaning forward in his seat like he is watching a drama.

“I made out with her on her kitchen counter.”

There is a long pause as they stare at each other.

“And you came back, why?”

“I didn’t want her to think that I just want to fuck her.” Suguru says and puts his cigarettes in his pocket, “Most of us give the people we are pursuing a bit more space then you do.”

Satoru scoffs at his comment.

“I give Nanamin space! He seems to even be enjoying my company right now.” He defends himself.

“If that helps you sleep better at night.” Suguru says with a shrug.

“Don’t change the subject!” Satoru squawks.

Suguru sighes and sits down. His best friend’s interrogation will not end soon so he might as well make himself comfortable.

The morning of the date you can’t really settle down.

During the hours of six through nine you wake up five times. Eventually you give up and check your phone. Then for a while you check your phone obsessively for a text saying that the date is off or he is “sick”. But one never comes. Which might be more concerning now that you think about it.

You clean your whole apartment and do all the laundry you have put off for a week. The only thing you haven’t done is wash your windows, which you might do in a minute. Looking at the time you throw the washing the windows idea out the metaphorical window.

The clock reads one and you need to get ready.

Normally when you get ready for a date you feel like you are dressing for a wake. But as you get showered and dressed you feel an underlying giddiness. You listen to more upbeat music as you do your hair and makeup. It is such a 180 turn from usual.

It is probably because it’s Suguru. He seems to be a good person from what you know so far, plus he is an excellent kisser. You try to remind yourself that it might not really be him but you can let yourself just enjoy today and wear it takes you can’t you?

Humming to the random pop song you have on in the background you admire the outfit Utahime suggested and you like it. You are not fully covered up but still warm because of the tights and sweater. It is a tasteful mix of the two and perfect for a first date.

You leave your bathroom and make your way to the living room to put on a pair of small heels. Since he didn’t cancel you decided to take him to a cat cafe downtown, since you don’t have a car you will have to walk so you want to not have your feet hurt. The kitten heels complement both the black and silver of your skirt nicely.

Right on time at exactly two a knock comes at your front door. All the nervous energy hits you as you walk to the door. You take a deep breath before opening your door to see Suguru standing there.

He looks good. A loose band tee hangs off his frame along with an oversized jacket. But the thing that draws your attention is the skinniest skinny jeans known to man that he is wearing. You have seen men wear skinny jeans but not that tight. And you might be very into that.

His long black hair is tied up and away from his face and you can see an undercut. You really want to run your hand over it.

“Hi.” He greets you with a small smile.

“Hi.” You respond but it comes out a bit shyer than you want it too.

“Are you ready?” He asks you and leans an arm on the frame of your door.

“Yes, I just need to grab my purse.” You say a giddiness to your voice.

For a second you leave him there and disappear into your apartment to get your purse. When you return he has moved away from your door and is rocking back and forth on his feet. He immediately stops as you lock and close your door behind you.

“So where are we going?” Suguru asks you as you walk away from your door.

“It is a surprise!” You say and press the down button to summon the elevator.

“How mysterious.” He says with a grin as you enter the elevator.

“I have to keep you interested somehow.” You match his grin as you hit the ground floor button.

“My interest is peaked.”

In the few short minutes that you are leading him downtown Suguru decides he really likes walking behind you. There is something about how you carry yourself that makes him think that he would follow you anywhere. You could lead him into hell and he probably wouldn’t notice it.

Satoru would call him a dog on a leash but he doesn’t mind if it is you.

As the crowd gets more dense as you enter Shinjuku you reach back and grab his hand, “I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

“I think I could be easily found because of my height, you on the other hand are more at risk.” Suguru teases you and squeezes your hand.

“I could just leave you.” You grumble as he walks faster to catch up with you. And the faint blush on your cheeks doesn’t escape his vision.

The two of you walk hand in hand for a while before you pull him into a cafe. It is smaller than the other stores and restaurants on the streets of Shinjuku. The light brown and cream colored walls give the cafe a cozy feel. But the main attraction is the hoard of cats that are walking around.

He can feel your eyes looking at him, trying to see if he likes it.

“This is a cute place,” Suguru says and looks down at you, “I have never been here before.”

Your eyes light up and his heart stutters in his chest. Suguru feels like he could live on just that expression of yours. He has never been a romantic before, despite his inclination towards art, but you bring out a new side to him.

Suguru wants to paint this expression so he can look at it forever.

His trance is broken as a woman walks up to you. Her blonde hair is tied up and her eyes look at the both of you as if she is trying to decipher what is going on with the both of you. He sees you get nervous as she walks closer.

“Hi Yuki…” You say as if you are about to be scolded.

The woman, Yuki, raises an eyebrow, “Who is this?”

“This is Suguru,” You pause before continuing, “he lives next door.”

Yuki’s eyes light up with understanding and a smile spreads on her face.

“Suguru- I have heard a lot about you.” She says and reaches out a hand for him to shake.

Suguru, now self conscious, takes her hand and shakes it. What have you told her? Does she not approve of him? Is he making a good first impression?

“All good I hope.” He replies and tries to calm his nerves.

“Very good.” Yuki assures him, “You have the pick of any table and can I get you any drinks?”

“The strawberry boba sounds good, I haven’t gotten a chance to try it.” You say with a smile and squeeze his hand.

“I will just have a coffee.” Suguru says.

“Okay, I will have that out shortly.” She says and walks off.

As she leaves you relax and he looks at you in concern as you sigh.

“I forgot to tell her about our date,” You admit as you pull him by the hand to a corner table, “there will most likely be anarchy in our group chat soon.”

He snorts and sits down in the chair near the window. Suguru mourns the loss of not being able to hold your hand. You sit down across from him and a loud ping comes from your phone. The first ping is followed by many more before you eventually put your phone on vibrate.

“Good luck with your friend group, my best friend already interrogated me yesterday.” Suguru says with a grin.

“I will need it, Shoko will have my head for this.” You admit with a sigh.

“Shoko Ieri?” Suguru asks in disbelief.

“Yeah! Do you know her?” You ask.

“We went to high school together and we are in some of the same English classes now.” He says.

“Wow! I never knew how close we were to each other without ever meeting.” You hum as a small tabby waltzes up to you. Suguru watches you scoop the cat up into your arms and pet its head. It purrs at your touch and he feels a little jealous of the cat.

Conversation flows effortlessly between you two as you play with the cats and drink your drinks. The tabby stays close to you, it demands your attention and will flick its tail when you are trying to do other things. You indulge the little thing every time.

At one point you finish your drink and get up, “I am going to get another tea, do you want more coffee?”

“That would be great.” He says and you take the cups off the table and walk over to the counter where Yuki is standing looking bored.

He watches you talk to her when a set of claws enter his calf. Looking down the small tabby cat has it’s claws in his leg with narrowed eyes.

“She may indulge you but I won’t.” He says defiantly.

The cat sinks its claws in deeper.

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

Suguru feels the claws puncture his skin.

“Fine!” He says picks up the tabby and scratches its little head.

It begins to purr and Suguru just sighs, resigned to being a servant for this cat until you both leave.

You come back to see Suguru holding the little tabby cat. It is the cutest thing you have ever seen. You set his coffee down on the table in front of him as he pets the cat’s head.

“It looks like Obi likes you.” You say and sit down in your seat.

“Obi is a small terror.” Suguru grumbles but continues to pet the cat.

“He takes after his mother,” You say and scratch under Obi’s chin. “Queenie fits her namesake.”

“Obi is a cute name for him,” Suguru says, “it doesn’t fit his personality.”

You laugh and take a sip of your drink, “His full name is Obadiah.”

“Obadiah?” Suguru asks in disbelief, “that’s his full name?”

“Yuki named him.” You smile at him as he tries to think of how Yuki thought that the name Obadiah would be a good name.

“I think I would be a terror if I was named Obadiah.” Suguru says and scratches the cat behind the ears, “I have misjudged you, I am sorry.”

More time passes and the two of you trade off so Suguru can drink his now lukewarm coffee. Obi is pleased to be in your arms and you hold him like a baby as he purrs. You had always wanted to adopt him since you saw him but raising him by yourself seemed like a daunting task so you talked yourself out of it.

A camera flash brings you out of your thoughts. Suguru has his phone up and is taking a picture of you and Obi. You blink in confusion at him.

“Why did you take a picture?” You ask him curiously.

He puts his phone down and clears his throat nervously, “I wanted to paint the two of you.”

Your jaw drops as he rubs the back of his neck, looking away from you. Your heart is in overdrive as you try to process that he wants to paint a picture of you. Taking a picture is one thing but painting someone takes a lot of work and time.

“I don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable!” He says quickly trying to make it better.

“No!” You say but it comes out a bit high pitched as you blush, “I- I don’t mind.”

Suguru relaxes and a grin spreads on his face, “I am happy that you are willing to be my muse.”

God help your poor heart.

After two hours you leave the cafe. Yuki waves as you leave and you know that you are in for it later. But you feel so love struck that you don’t care.

The walk back to your apartment building is filled with laughter and smiles. Suguru holds your hand all the way there and you let him lead you to the elevators. He runs a thumb over your knuckles and you feel like a dumb teenager on her first date.

When you make it to your door you hesitate. You don’t want this to end. Even if this is temporary and he may not want you later you want to bask in it now. You try to think of how to articulate it. And Suguru frowns as he looks at his phone.

“My roommate kicked me out for the night,” Suguru starts, “could I crash at your place? I will buy us dinner as payment.”

Fate seems to be in your favor today.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” You say and let go of his hand to open the door. The door swings open and you lead him inside.

You settle on the couch as the two of you continue to talk. Suguru orders Chinese takeout and you talk about anything and everything. He tells you about his art classes and you tell him about your classes in kind.

“-I actually have a big project coming up soon so I will have to focus on that since it is a major portion of the grade.” He explains his hands moving around as he does.

“What do you have to do?” You ask him.

“So what the professor is asking for is a watercolor piece. I prefer oil based paints but it will be good to step out of my comfort zone for it.” Suguru tells you and you can tell that he is passionate about this by the way his eyes look as he talks.

“You seem really passionate about this.” You observe and he stops briefly.

“Sorry- I was rambling-” He starts to apologize but you grab his hand.

“Don’t apologize,” You smile at him reassuringly, “I like hearing you talk.”

It is quiet as the two of you stare at each other. The tension thick in the room as you trace his face with your eyes. His hair falls into his face from the beat bun it was in. You lean closer and-

The doorbell rings, breaking up the moment.

Internally groaning you get up from the couch, “I will get the food.”

“Thanks.” He responds a little heavy as you walk to the door.

The poor delivery man doesn’t deserve the irritated expression you give him but he looks too high to care. You take the food from his outstretched hands and thank him. He just tips his hat at you and teeters off down the hall. Hopefully he gets home safely.

You set the bag on the coffee table and grab some chopsticks from the kitchen. Suguru is dividing the food on the table. You hand him a set of chopsticks and sit down to eat.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You ask him as you open your container of food.

“Yeah,” He says, “What are you in the mood for?”

“A romcom would be good but I am okay with anything.” You admit and grab the last dumpling.

“Okay- what would you recommend?” Suguru asks you with a smile.

“So if you want a high school setting I would suggest 10 things I hate about you, if not how to lose a guy in ten days is a classic.” You explain and hand him the remote.

He sets down his food and takes it with a hum of amusement, “Which one do you recommend?”

You take a minute to weigh it out. 10 things I hate about you was always a favorite when you were younger, and Heath Ledger isn’t too bad looking. How to lose a guy in ten days is the funnier of the two but you think your heart is swaying towards 10 things I hate about you.

“I would recommend 10 things I hate about you.” You say and He turns on the TV.

The movie starts and you feel content to watch Suguru’s reactions to the movie. Before he had put it on he had told you that he had never seen the movie. Which was a crime. So now he gets to be subjected to this movie for the next hour and a half.

“And I thought I had restrictive parents.” He says with a cringe.

“It really makes you think huh?” You ask with a laugh.

“I mean, if I had daughters I would be protective but not like that.” Suguru explains to you and puts his empty take out container on the table.

“I could see you with daughters,” You admit, “You would make a good dad.”

Suguru blinks down at you in surprise. You realize what you said and go to fix the situation but he beats you to speaking.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

Over the course of the movie your legs end up slung over Suguru’s lap. He runs his hand over your right leg, but only to your knee then stops. It is driving you a little insane at this point. If it wasn’t too forward you would grab his hand and put it under your skirt.

“He so deserved that.” Suguru says with approval as Joey gets punched in the face.

“He is such an asshole.” You agree with him, trying to not sound like you are worked up about his hand.

The main characters get together, the credits roll and the movie ends.

His hand is still there and you can’t stand it anymore. You reach your hand over to his and grab it. He startles but lets you guide his hand up your leg to your mid thigh. Suguru looks at you, his eyes darker than before. You give him a challenging look, daring him to touch you like he means it.

“Are you sure about this angel?” He asks you, his voice rough and breathy.

“More than any of the decisions I have made for the past month.” You respond.

Suguru chuckles and moves so his right knee is in between your legs, he hovers over you on the couch. You look up at him as he scans your face with his eyes as if he is trying to memorize what your face looks like in this exact moment. His lilac eyes lock on yours and you feel your heart rate pick up.

When he kisses you it is so slow, he takes his time as his hands move up your thighs. It is such a switch from yesterday where he did waste anytime and kissed you so hard you almost couldn’t breathe. You are sure that he wants to turn it around on, to make you need him just as bad. And he is definitely succeeding.

Your body feels so hot and he is barely touching you. It is maddening. His snake bites are cold against your lips and that only makes you want more. You run a hand up into his hair, pulling him down to kiss you deeper. His fingers ghost under your skirt and you gasp into his mouth.

“So needy angel.” He purrs as he pulls back to look down at you.

“I-” You begin and clench your thighs, “I need you so bad baby.”

That seems to be Suguru’s breaking point because he picks you up bridal style. You yelp in surprise at his sudden silence and him picking you up. Most of the men you have slept with hadn’t even tried to pick you when you hooked up. You can’t help the heat that curls in your core as he makes his way to your bedroom.

He lays you down gently with your head on your pillow. Suguru climbs onto the bed and parts your thighs. His rough hands pull down your skirt and tights, leaving you in only your underwear. He practically moans at the lacey lilac pair of panties you have on.

You grin at him and pull up your shirt to reveal a matching bra. It was pure coincidence that you had a set that was the color of his eyes. Even though you had not expected to hook up with Suguru, you thought that you would wear them just in case.

He matches your grin and hooks a finger under the elastic band, “All of this just for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” You ask him with an eyebrow raised, “I am not easy-”

You are cut off as he lowers himself between your thighs and licks your pussy through your panties.

“You were saying?” He says innocently as if he doesn’t have his head resting on your inner thighs.

“I am not- mhh!” You try again but he bites your inner thigh causing you to shiver.

“Hmmm?” Suguru hums in question as he pulls down your panties so he can see how wet you are already. “You seem to be having a hard time speaking angel, why don’t we let your pussy speak instead?”

You barely nod before two fingers are pumping in and out of your hole. It feels so good, his fingers are long enough to reach the spots you never can when you do this. He is knuckle deep in your pussy and you feel like you might cum soon.

“Fuck- mhh- I’m gonna cum-” You moan out as his fingers find your g-spot.

“I want you to come on my tongue first before I make you come again on my dick.” He says and removes his fingers.

A long drawn out whine comes out of your throat at the loss of something filling you. You try to rub your thighs together to make some friction but his hands hold your thighs apart. He wastes no time in eating you out.

Suguru knows what he is doing, you can tell because you can barely think straight. His tongue swirls around your clit and his fingers re-enter your hole. You have lost almost all control and are just a moaning mess.

“Your so beautiful like this- hah- so desperate for me.”

You grind down on his face as you get closer to the edge. Suguru hums happily as he gets you so close to an orgasm, the sound sends a shiver down your body. The heat that was rising in your core reaches a fever pitch as you cum.

As you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm he takes off his shirt and you see the tiger tattoo. He sees you eyeing it and smirks.

“See something you like pretty?” He asks as he continues to get undressed.

You nod, still high on your orgasm. If you didn’t have some restraint you might put your lips to it. He shivers under your touch,

“Fuck-” Suguru curses and you realize you said that out loud.

His voice breaks you out of the trance you are in and you get up to touch him. You run your hands over toned muscle and ink. The tiger tattoo isn’t his only one, he has a dragon on his back and a few smaller ones scattered along his forearms.

You push him back so he is laying down on the bed. He doesn’t stop you when you take all his clothes off. You marvel at his dick. It is thick and already dripping precum as you stare. But you don’t want to rush this, you have been thinking of this for two months so you want to savour this.

The kiss you press to his lips is soft and quick. You move on to his neck. A small possessive part of you wants you to give him very visible hickies. You want the woman three doors down who looks at him in the hall ways to see the bites you leave know that he is taken.

She can go back to her boring husband because this man is yours.

You try to push the thought out of your mind but you are already biting his neck. It brings you glee to know that these will last. Even if he doesn’t want you in the morning, you will have proof that you were there for a while. He groans as you lick and nibble the spot where you bit him.

It was hot, the push and pull of this new dynamic. You had never taken a chance on being more dominant or possessive with your past partners because you didn’t want to scare them off. But Suguru was different, he let you have free rein until he felt like taking over.

You can get on top of him and his hands rest on your hips. It takes a minute for you to adjust your position and sink down on his cock. You hiss slightly at the stretch as his rough hands guide you down.

“You're bigger than I imagined!” You say as you take all of him in.

This seems to pique his interest, “You thought about this?”

“Yeah-” You admit as he runs his hands over your torso. “Since I saw you for the first time I wondered-”

You are cut off as Suguru switches the position so you are under him.

“What are you-?”

What you were going to say is cut off by a whine as he begins to move. His thrusts are a bit wilder than you had expected. His dick hits all those spots inside you that make your legs feel like jelly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to find something to ground you.

“I- hah- I have wanted this for so long.” Suguru admits in your ear, “Do you know how hard it was to not fuck you on your counter yesterday? How hard it was to not throw you over my shoulder and drag you to your bed earlier when I saw you?”

His words go straight to your core. You moan as he sucks on your neck. His confession makes your brain short circuit. It seems so out of the question that he would be into you. For a year you had talked yourself out of talking to him because you thought he didn’t want you.

“I would have let you-!” You answer his rhetorical questions.

That makes him pick up his pace and groan into your neck. You have a grip on his back as his dick hits your g-spot over and over and over again. You know that there are scratches left by your nails on his back.Your legs are trembling as your impending orgasm is about to hit.

“Can- fuck- can I cum inside?” Suguru asks you.

“Please-!” You whine out as you bury your face in his neck.

“Don’t hide from me angel- I want to see you.” He says and stares at you with nothing short of awe as you pull your head back to look him in the eyes. “Just like that, good girl-”

You can’t tell what makes you cum, his words or his repeated hitting of your g-spot but the coil in your stomach snaps and you feel so good. Suguru keeps going, fucking you through your orgasm as your legs tremble around him. You are on cloud nine as his hips stutter and he cums in you.

For a minute you two just breathe. The only sound in the room is your heart beat and laboured breathing. Suguru recovers first. He gets off you to get a towel to clean up and some water. You are sitting up when he gets back and you clean up.

“Stealing my clothes already?” He asks with a laugh as you pull on his band t-shirt.

“It smells like you.” You say with a shrug and crawl into bed with him.

“Do I smell good?” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” You cuddle up to him. “Like smoke with hints of lavender.”

“I guess I can’t change my shampoo then.” He says and rests his head on top of yours.

“Otherwise we might have a problem.” You say with a sleepy giggle.

“How scary angel.”

You don’t respond because you feel your eyes shut and sleep drags you under its waves.

When you wake up Suguru isn’t beside you. You look over at the side of bed he was sleeping on to see it empty. Sitting up abruptly you look around the room for any sign of him but his jeans aren’t on your floor anymore.

You scramble out of bed.

Did the potion somehow last longer than intended and it is just now wearing off?

The door to your room is open as you rush out of it. But you relax as you see Suguru standing on your balcony. He is visibly arguing with someone and has a cigarette in his hands which he is pointing at the person in question.

You walk to the sliding glass door.

“-you should have given me prior warning asshole!” Suguru says and lights up the cigarette.

Opening the door he blinks over at you.

“Suguru?” You ask and slip out onto the balcony.

“‘morning angel.” He says and wraps an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

You relax into his side and look over at the man on the balcony next to yours. He is tall with wild white hair and blue eyes. His eyes are bright and his smile is wide as he looks at you.

“Oh!” You say as you remember who this is, “You must be Suguru’s roommate!”

“The one and only!” He responds cheerfully.

“Satoru Gojo.” He introduces himself and stretches out a hand for you to shake.

You introduce yourself and shake his hand with a smile, “Nice to meet you Gojo.”

“Well-” Gojo says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I have to go check on my study buddy, have fun!”

Suguru just rolls his eyes as Gojo walks back into his apartment. You give him a little wave as he disappears. After he is gone you turn to Suguru who shakes his head at his friend.

“That poor TA, he will never hear the end of this.” Suguru says more to the air than you.

He catches your confused look and explains, “Satoru has been trying to get into the pants of our English classes TA for months now, poor guy must have finally agreed so Satoru kicked me out.”

“At least it was good for you that I let you stay over.” You say with a grin.

“You are very generous.” He responds, matching your grin.

“I do expect some repayment,” You tease, “people can’t think that I am a pushover.”

Suguru puts out his cigarette.

“Oh?” He asks and turns toward you, “and what may that be?”

You hum, pretending to think about it.

“Breakfast would be nice…” You suggest trailing off as you turn to walk back into your apartment, his hand in yours. “Unless you have a better idea?”

“I have many ideas.”

#blue’s fics <3 #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #chubby reader

186 notes · View notes

redvexillum · 8 months ago

Text

Hot damn, I can't believe it took me this long to finally get around to answering this ask. I would like to dedicate this story to @todash-darkness and Ms. 🍑. Thank you for being my friends and always cheering me on even when I get whiny and say "writing too hard!"

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, p in v, rough s♡x, possessive!alastor, alastor is bad at feelings, dual pov, reader is a sweetheart, established relationship, alastor is allergic to feelings, rough ♡ral s♡x, finger♡ng, miscommunication, one sided (alastor) denial of feelings

In the vast, unfathomable uncertainties of Hell, Alastor’s mind was a sanctum guarded by his own design, his kingdom of carefully orchestrated chaos. He adored unpredictability, yes – but only when it danced to his tune, his rhythm, his control. Anything else, anything beyond his boundaries, was sacrilege.

There was no greater agony, no venom deeper, than the sensation of his world teetering beyond his grasp. His order, his routine ...demolishing right before his eyes.

One such certainty he held with unwavering conviction was this: your soul belonged to him, irrevocably. He had claimed you in ways that transcended mere words. Every part of you – your thoughts, your desires, your body, and even the delicate cadence of your laugh – was woven into his web, bound and stitched to his very being.

So why, then, were you here, laughing with that cur, the very embodiment of mediocrity beside you? Why did the melodic lilt of your voice drift toward that miserable fool’s ears instead of his? The sight of you smiling at such filth was an affront to everything he held sacred, and yet you persisted. You continued to share laughter with that loser, indulging his vapid words, his feeble presence.

From his seat on the single couch, Alastor’s grin cleaved his face, a mask of delight that undercut the roiling fury within. Around him, other souls babbled, meaningless, and insipid, but he paid them no heed. His gaze was fixed solely on you – typically nestled by his side, hanging on his every word as if he held the keys to your reality.

You, who would meet his stories with wide-eyed fascination, as if his very words spun magic into existence. You, who would follow him, entranced, into his realm.

But now, now...his hand dug into the flesh of the couch, claws piercing through its plush surface as he fought to restrain himself, to keep from dragging you to his side where you belonged. In his mind, he could feel the invisible chains around your neck, the ones you had so naively accepted, binding you to him to the moment you surrendered your soul – for a little of wretched Hellmutts, no less.

You were naive. Weak. Ridiculously innocent.

But you were his.

His eyes tracked every move you made, his gaze darkening with each soft smile that graced your lips for someone else, each glimmer in your eye cast in that foul creature’s direction. And then – then that trash, that waste of a soul, had the audacity to touch your shoulder.

Alastor’s heart stilled, a visceral freeze rippling through him as he watched your fingers lift, as if in slow motion, to meet that filthy hand.

And within him, something snapped.

An uncontrollable twitch seized his left eye, a slight tremor echoed in the clench of his jaw. Rage coursed through him, an intense, molten fury tightening every muscle until he vibrated with it. A violent energy was held back only by a grin that split his face, frozen, even as his eyes bore into you, unblinking.

Come to me, he thought, his voice a dark whisper in his mind, willing you to hear, to obey, Come here, darling. Come...

Yet, you didn’t hear him. Not a single glance in his direction, as if the tether binding you to him had snapped. You, with those disgustingly bright eyes, filled to the brim with such boundless, grating cheer – those eyes that never strayed from his, were now fixed on someone else. They were facing the wrong way.

The ownership he held over you was absolute, and he was certain there was nothing of value in this world next to your name – nothing but your soul. And that? Well, that belonged to him. You were his in every sense, a fact as unshakeable as death itself.

The thought simmered, rolling over in his mind like a storm. He’d planned to speak with you tonight, to remind you of the boundaries that came with selling your soul to him. A gentle “discussion” about your arrangement, perhaps a reminder of the dangers of your reckless naivety, especially around others’ wandering intentions. After all, what did you understand of the hunger that prowled in the depths of Hell?

But then you laughed. That joyous sound, brimming with warmth and energy – the very light he’d basked in so possessively – spilled from you for someone else. In that instant, something dark clawed up from within him, overriding every fragment of patience he thought he’d possessed.

The lights flickered; sinners looked up and whispered, confused, looking up as the room dipped into pitch-black darkness. And in that instant, Alastor’s hand seized you, pulling you into the shadows before anyone would notice.

The darkness folded around him, dragging you both from their prying eyes, and when he materialized in his room, any pretense of control shattered entirely.

You’d been talking to a gentleman about butcher shops in Cannibal Town, a respectable topic considering he was a proud consumer of sinner flesh. Though you yourself didn’t indulge, you knew Alastor had a certain...fondness for the taste. This stranger, to his credit, offered genuine recommendations – shops known for prime, fresh meat. You listened attentively, committing every word to memory, already imagining the gleam in Alastor’s eyes when you surprised him with a choice cut of fresh deer sinner’s flesh.

The best part? Each piece came with the sinner’s full consent. Nothing could be more natural, organic, and you supposed, humane in a macabre way, than that.

Your smile grew brighter as you pictured his reaction, and out of courtesy, you kept the conversation flowing. After all, Alastor had always instilled in you the importance of politeness, of maintaining grace, especially in the realms of Hell. When the man touched your shoulder and praised your kindness, you felt a warmth spread through you. Kindness was a rarity down here, and it was refreshing to be in the company of someone who appreciated it without ulterior motives.

But then the lights flickered, and instantly, the room plunged into darkness. Panic flared, voices rising in confusion, and before you could fully process what was happening, a cold hand clamped around your wrist. A sensation, chilling and immediate, enveloped you, and the world melted away.

When you blinked, you were in Alastor’s room.

The sudden brightness left you blinking against the light, your vision adjusting. But when you finally looked up, you were met with a sight that sent a shiver down your spine.

Alastor stood there; his eyes ablaze with a crimson fury that bordered on madness. His grin stretched wider than you’d ever seen, jagged and vicious, as if it had been carved from his very rage. His gaze cut through you like a knife, every muscle in his frame taut with anger. Twin streams of red trickled from the corners of his mouth, and in that silence, you could swear you heard the crackling of something deep within him breaking.

Before you could even form the words to ask why he seemed so upset, Alastor summoned the soul chain. A sickly green chain flickered into existence, snaking around his wrist, and in the next, you felt a sudden, brutal tug around your neck. Your teeth gritted at the sharp pull, and he yanked you forward until you were barely an inch away from him, his nose almost brushing yours as he bent down to meet your gaze.

The dial in his chest swung wildly, ticking back and forth like a metronome set to a frenzied beat.

“Uhm, Alast-” you started, confusion clouding your mind. You knew he was eccentric, yes, prone to outbursts and fits of emotion, but they always carried some purpose, a hidden logic that only he could fully understand.

“Who do you belong to?” he demanded, his voice frigid and sharp. The chain clinked as he pulled you even closer, the heat of his body blazing through the air between you.

“Y-you,” you stammered, searching his eyes, your hand trembling as you gently touched his sleeve. “It’s you.”

For a fleeting second, your answer seemed to calm the storm raging in his gaze, his crimson eyes softening back to their usual dark slits. “That’s right,” he whispered, his voice low and deceptively soft. “You belong to me.” His hand slid to your waist, his fingers digging in possessively. “And yet,” his voice dropped to a hiss, “you had the gall to let another sinner touch you.”

A wave of bewilderment washed over you, leaving you scrambling to make sense of his anger. Physical contact was far from uncommon in the hotel – just yesterday, Angel Dust had clapped you on the back after you told him a joke. Surely, Alastor wouldn’t be so enraged over something so trivial?

But Alastor��pressed himself against you, his body taut and seething with an intensity that left you breathless. “My, my,” he murmured, voice pitched with a mocking chill, “thinking about that wretched sinner already? Right here, in my presence?”

“That’s not-” you started to protest, realizing with a sinking dread that you’d indeed just thought of Angel Dust. But surely, that alone wouldn’t justify this terrifying fury, this raw possessiveness radiating from Alastor?

He let out a bark of laughter, sharp and scathing, before pressing his forehead to yours, his lips grazing dangerously close to your own. “I own your soul, darling,” he whispered, his voice laced with a dangerous, velvety edge. You felt his claws inching up your skirt, his fingers scraping against your bare thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “I don’t share what is rightfully mine.”

Unexpectedly, his mouth crashed onto yours, urgent and bruising, teeth grazing with a hunger so fierce it stole the breath from your lungs. You whimpered against him as his sharp tooth nicked your lower lip, the sting mingling with the taste of blood as his hot tongue lapped over the wound, a low groan reverberating from his chest.

When he finally pulled back, his lips stained crimson with your blood, he gripped the front of your dress, his eyes blazing. “Who do you belong to?” he demanded again, his tone laced with desperation, as if even your words might not be enough to satisfy him.

“You. It’s always you, Alastor,” you whispered, your hands gently cupping his face, placing a soft, tender kiss on his lips – a striking contrast to the bruising passion he’d unleashed moments before. “The contract says forever, remember?” You tried a slight, playful grin, but his gaze held none of his usual amusement, his eyes fixated on yours with an almost haunted intensity.

“The contract,” he repeated slowly, his fingers loosening their grip on your dress. “Yes...that’s right.” His hands trembled for a fleeting moment before he forced them behind his back, his posture rigid. “I own your soul,” he said, voice hollow, “your servitude, I suppose.”

It was as if he were no longer fully present with you, his gaze dark and distant, a hint of revelation in his eyes that seemed to tear him apart even as he chased it. You could see it, how this realization – this twisted revelation – pained him, even though he seemed oblivious to its source.

You’d been here before, watched him spiral from bursts of passion to bitterness and then back to his lonely solitude. So, as always, you took that first step forward, drawing closer until your arms circled his waist. You smiled up at him, that bright, open smile he so often brushed off with sharp words, though you knew it softened him beneath the mask.

He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, a breath escaping as he murmured, “My, you're suddenly so clingy.” But you caught the waver in his voice, hiding behind his usual teasing edge.

“Because it’s you,” you replied simply, hands trailing up his back until they slid into his hair, guiding him down to meet you. “Besides, you haven’t kicked me to the curb yet, Alastor.” You giggled, only for the sound to be cut off as his lips claimed yours.

His movement slowed, each kiss lingering, his fingers finding the front of your shirt, hesitating there. “I don’t share,” he murmured against your mouth, his claws grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “This chain,” he whispered, tracing it with reverence, “it binds you to me. I own you.” With each word, he deftly unbuttoned your dress, his gaze smouldering as the fabric fell open.

“I know,” you answered softly, sinking beneath him as he lowered you to the hard floor, his arms and legs caging you in. “I haven’t forgotten,” you murmured, your fingers trailing down the front of his red-pinstriped suit, savouring the rough texture beneath your touch.

He stiffened, a flash of raw anger crossing his features. “Then why,” he snarled, his voice dripping with possessiveness, “why let that waste of breath near you? Why laugh, why smile, why seek his company when I was right there?” His words tumbled out, unbidden, raw and unrestrained.

At that moment, as his heated words filled the space between you, you caught a flicker of shame and horror in his eyes, as if he hadn’t meant to reveal this part of himself. But before he could pull away, you wrapped your arms around his neck, anchoring him to you.

“No one touches me like you do,” you whispered, pressing soft kisses along his cheek, to the corner of his mouth, until you kissed him fully. And I don’t think anyone else can make me smile until my cheeks hurt.” You laughed softly, fingers combing through his hair, each touch soft and grounding.

His response was immediate, his lips pressed against yours, his hips grinding against you with desperate fervour. His soft groans mixed with your sighs, and he gently took your wrists, guiding your hands back to the front of his pants. His lips never left yours, his hands tracing a slow, searing path as you undid his pants, feeling the heated weight of him pressing against your stomach as you freed him.

“Darling,” he hissed as our fingers wrapped around him, stroking from his tip down the length of his hardened cock, slow and tantalizing. The fire in his eyes darkened, his pupils widening to pools of obsidian as he shuddered beneath your touch. “How should I make you remember,” he murmured, voice a low growl, “that you belong to me always?”

His lips traced down your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as his hands slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt to your waist with a deliberate slowness that made you ache. “Perhaps,” he breathed, his fingers pressing against the damp cloth covering you, feeling your desire seeping through, “I’ll make your body remember.”

Without hesitation, he tore your underwear away, his fingers grazing the slick curve of your inner thighs, drawing a gasp from you as his touch lingered there. “Enough times,” he muttered, his voice thick with want, “That you never forget who I am to you.”

Two fingers slipped inside, filling you in one firm stroke. The sensation sent a sharp tremor through you, and your breath hitched as your walls clenched around him. “Alastor...” His name fell from your lips in a shiver, and his eyes darkened at the sound, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Shh, darling,” he cooed, his voice a velvet command. His fingers moved slowly, plunging into you with an unhurried intensity, dragging your slice over every sensitive spot before plunging them back in. His head dropped to your shoulder, lips brushing over your skin as he pumped his fingers, his own arousal pressing hot and hard against your thigh. “Tonight, I’ll make certain you’ll never consider anyone else.”

Pleasure flooded through you, erasing everything except the feel of him, each pump of his fingers building heat within you. You wanted to tell him he was always in your mind, to confess that you’d never once thought of leaving his side. But words tangled and dissolved into moans, as if even trying to say them would break the spell.

Things like, I like you.

Things like, I cherish you.

Things like...

A gasp tore from you as his mouth latched onto your breast, tongue flicking over the sensitive peak as he hummed in satisfaction, the wet sound of his fingers moving within you intensifying with each movement. You arched against him, hips moving of their own accord, desperate for more, clinging to every sensation.

And just as you teetered on the edge, his fingers slipped free, leaving you throbbing, gasping from the loss of him. He rose above you, his cock fully erect, tip glistening. He lifted his fingers, coated in your desire, to his face, watching with fascination as he pressed them together. A glistening thread stretching between them before he spread too far apart, breaking it with a hungry grin.

Then, without looking away, he brought them to his lips, sucking each finger clean with slow, deliberate motions, a satisfied groan slipping from his throat as he tasted you.

“Who do you belong to, darling?” he murmured, eyes heavy-lidded as he gazed down at you. His hands moved to pin your wrists above your head, pressing his hips forward, his cock nudging against your slick entrance, sending a shiver of pure heat coursing through you.

Your breath caught as he began to push in, the head of him stretching you with a slow, delicious pressure. Instinctively, you tried to shift your hips, to take him deeper, but his grip tightened, keeping you firmly in place. “Say it,” he whispered, his voice edged with a fierce tenderness, his eyes locked onto yours, demanding.

“You,” you whimpered, voice trembling, and Alastor rewarded you by sliding himself just a bit deeper, the stretch trying to accommodate him making you gasp.

“That’s right,” he crooned, his grin sharp, eyes narrowed to slivers of wicked delight. “Tell me,” he murmured, his lips brushing hot against your ear, the words like fire igniting every nerve, “tell me how much you want me. Go on.”

When you hesitated, struggling for breath, he drew his hips back, leaving you painfully empty. Every nerve in your body was alight, humming, craving more. Embarrassment coloured your cheeks, but the heat, the need, drove the words from you. “Please,” you whispered, voice soft and fragile, “please Alastor, I-I want you.” Your eyes closed, the vulnerability tightening in your chest, sending waves of desire flooding your veins.

The moment the words escaped your lips, Alastor surged forward, filling you to the hilt, his hips flush against yours, a shuddering groan escaping him. His length throbbed inside, stretching and filling you perfectly, leaving you breathless as he began a steady rhythm, each thrust pulling a whimper from your lips.

“That’s right,” he rasped, finally finding his pace as he withdrew and slammed back into you, your breasts bouncing with every relentless stroke. “Say you want me,” he breathed, his voice rough, almost breaking, with the intensity of his need.

One hand pinned your wrists above your head, firm and unyielding, while the other squeezed your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending electric shocks of pleasure through you. His hips moved in a hypnotic rhythm, the wet, smacking sound of skin on skin mingling with the sharp cries and moans filling the air. Each one tore through you as you clung to him, helpless against the power of his thrusts.

“I want you,” you cried, voice trembling, head tilted back, your body limp and yielding beneath his strength. Every nerve was alive with a searing stretch, his cock grinding into your most sensitive spot as he drove deeper, forcing pleasure to crest higher and higher. His name fell from your lips in broken cries, each syllable dripping with the intensity of your desire.

With a raw groan, Alastor shifted, grasping your hips firmly as he rose onto his knees, lifting you with him. Your body arched upward, shoulders and head the only parts still anchored to the floor as he drove into you harder, faster, every thrust meeting no resistance. He slammed his hips against yours, the force of it stealing your breath, pushing you to the brink, an overwhelming spike of pleasure building with every powerful relentless motion.

Your lips parted, gasping, as his grunts filled your ears, his low, primal sounds mixing with the wet, sinful noises of your bodies colliding. The world around you faded to nothing but the feeling of him, the ecstasy of his touch, and the unstoppable climb toward a blinding, shattering release.

His eyes locked on the place where your bodies joined, a hunger darkening his gaze as he thrust into you, each movement hitting that perfect spot, dragging every pulse of pleasure from deep within you. Your stomach tightened, thighs shaking, and as he drove in again, the pressure burst.

You came with a shattering cry, your fingers scraping at the wooden floor, desperate for anything to hold as your walls clenched around him, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing through you.

He pulled out suddenly, letting your body drop as he rose to his knees, his cock slick and throbbing against your parted lips. His hand wrapped around his length, pumping himself with frenzied strokes as he looked down, his gaze fierce and covetous.

“I should mark you,” he rasped, his voice thick with need, his cock grazing your lips as he leaned forward. “Make sure my colour stains that smile.” His grin was wild as his hand moved faster, his muscles tense, his breaths shallow and ragged.

You lifted your head, mouth open to take him in, your lips wrapping around the tip as your tongue swirled, savouring the mingling taste of him and your own desire. A moan tore from him, and he let his head drop back, his hands cradling the sides of your head, guiding himself deeper as his hips moved in slow, deliberate thrusts. His length stretched your lips as he pressed to the back of your throat, the guttural sound of his groans and the slick noises filling the air.

Your own moans vibrated around him, spurring him on. His hips moved faster, his hands clinging tighter as his moans grew sharper, each thrust sending him closer. With one last hard thrust, he shuddered, and the first hot pulse of his release spilled down your throat. He withdrew, letting the rest spill over your lips, dripping down your chin in thick streams as he marked you. His eyes locked on your face, a wild satisfaction softening his gaze as he watched.

The warmth of his release lingered on your skin, drying as your breaths filled the space between you. Your tongue darted out, tasting the lingering saltiness on your lips, and he groaned, his cock twitching in his hand as he watched, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours.

As if coming back to himself, he gently cupped your face, wiping his release from your skin with his sleeve, his expression caught between wonder and something deeper. His touch was unexpectedly soft, eyes holding a vulnerability he rarely let surface, the unspoken question hanging between you as his gaze searched yours.

“We could be more,” you whispered, heart pounding as his fingers tilled on your skin, “if you want, Alastor.”

His movements halted, his gaze slowly focusing on yours, a flicker of confusion slipping beneath his usual veneer of confidence. “I already own your soul,” he murmured, his voice edged with something darker, guarded. “There is nothing more you could give me.” His words were resolute, as if trying to cling onto their simplicity, yet the way his brows furrowed, and his head tilted betrayed a hesitation – a lack of understanding for the weight of what you meant.

For all his power, Alastor had taken your heart without ever offering his own in return. The notion of “more” was something he danced around, something he coveted without daring to hold. He wanted you fiercely, hungrily even, but in ways he could still control – never in ways that would strip him bare and vulnerable.

You placed a gentle hand on his thigh, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. With a soft sigh, you felt the truth of it settle heavy between you; until he could meet you on level ground, until he was ready to open himself as wholly as he demanded of you, this fragile back-and-forth was all you’d have. This quiet ache, this unspoken ache, would remain hidden, cloaked in omissions and denials.

It wasn’t entirely his fault, either, this painful standoff. After all, there were things you held back too – things that lingered on the edge of every kiss, every touch, words that clung desperately to the walls of your heart, refusing to release themselves. The word that waited to change everything.

Things like, I like you.

Things like, I cherish you.

Things like...

I love you.

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

389 notes · View notes

noteriii · 7 months ago

Note

Hello! I’m thrilled to meet a writer who will create Newt Scamander Fics! That’s amazing he’s super underrated! That being said I would be more than thrilled to request a touched starved Newt Scamander x fem (or Gn if that’s what you’d prefer) Reader who Newts in an established relationship with but it’s new and he’s eager to initiate intimate moments with them big or small to show he loves them. Reader could also be newts assistant as well! Thank you!

i've had this sitting in my drafts for the longest time. just something short and cute. ty anon <3 !

title: scrapped

newt scamander x reader !

you had first met newt when he first began his travels. as silly as it seemed at the time, he was in dire need of an assistant to care for his animals and, in turn, you had been in need of a job. growing up, an elderly neighbor of yours had been a puffskein breeder for some time. it was at a young age where you were taught the beauty of magical nature, where a love for creatures was born. so, with that warm desire to care and protect these creatures, you had studied materials available to you in hopes to learn more of them. when you had learned a young man in the ministry was in the process of writing a manuscript on the information and care of these creatures, you had beamed at the thought of another wizard caring for them as much as you did. you had almost jumped at the ‘in need of assistant’ announcement that floated around hogsmeade as you worked a bored shift at a small corner bakery. seeing as you were one of the few options, newt had chosen you to work alongside him and his beloved creatures. with proper instruction and care, they soon became your creatures as much as they were his and everything seemed more lively around the case.

now, five years later, you sat quietly at newt’s kitchen table, humming to the music playing off the phonograph. on this quiet spring day, you two had initially planned to go on a nice, much needed date. the weather, on the other hand, had other plans. the rain pelted down against the pavement almost as soon as you arrived at his quaint townhome. so, instead of going for a nice lunch, you two had opted to stay inside and enjoy each other’s company. the fireplace warmed the home and the smell of stew wafted around the kitchen. as you made your lunch, newt was in the basement tending to the creatures. though working with him everyday for years, you and newt had only started dating four months ago (there was always a push and pull from either of you deeming a romantic relationship inappropriate for work partners before he asked you to go out for dinner one night and you caved into his romances). you had slowly come to terms with his home being yours in a sense that you were here on both your on and off days. you lifted yourself from your spot at the dining table, leaving your sketch of the small golden snidget you had recently rescued, and made your way back into the small kitchen to finish your meals. your hips swayed to the music that played quietly from the living room as you fixed two bowls of stew for you and your boyfriend, setting a kettle on the stove for tea afterwards. and, with both bowls in hand, you make your way down to the basement.

newt is at his own desk downstairs, eyes fixated on whatever's in front of him when you find him. it’s warm in the basement, or at least where he is currently stationed, and you find yourself tugging at the sweater you had decided to wear. you clear your throat to let your presence downstairs known before stepping to his desk, placing the warm soup in front of him. “your lunch, sir” you say lightly to him, a smile gracing your features. he can’t help but smile as well, moving whatever was in front of him out of view. “thank you, dear.. it smells wonderful,” he says, looking around his desk for his wand. upon finding it, with the flick of his wrist, your own desk chair from across the room finds its way to the table, next to his. “come sit, i do have something to show you..” newt explains, smiling as you take a seat- the chair pushes in the slightest bit afterwards. you giggle at the small gesture. once settled in your seat, your boyfriend scoots his chair a little closer to yours with the tiniest blush on his face. how cute. clearing the table of the stray papers and tools, he reveals what he had been keeping behind his back. it was a small folded bouquet of flowers using old papers from the past few weeks. you feel that your cheeks warm up at the cute gesture, still not used to the small acts of love that came with the new relationship. you take the small bouquet of flowers from him, smiling at him warmly. “i was going to buy one while we were out for lunch today before the weather turned upset. i hope this can make up for it for now,” he tells you softly, eyes darting from your own and to the paper in your hands. you admire the work, seeing scribbled bits and pieces of scrapped notes and drawings- his handwriting and love coating each fold of the paper.

with the smell of your lunch wafting through the office, the sounds of the animals milling about their days from out the door, and the love of your life next to you.. there was nothing else you could ask for.

#noteriii #fantastic beats and where to find them #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt x reader #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #fem reader #x reader #harry potter

233 notes · View notes

alexanderlightweight · 1 month ago

Note

absolutely adore the bitter trap of truth 'verse... can i request more of it whenever convenient?

<3 this took a bit but here is more and I hope you enjoy it! this verse is its normal trainwreck of suspicious adoration

<3 lumine

the bitter trap of truth

“Magnus! Magnus!”

Magnus looks up from his book, fear already turning his blood cold. Alexander has never once sounded like that or called for him so loudly.

Terrified, frightened, and worst of all, guilty.

It sparks back to life all the embers of fear he’s been slowly stamping out and Magnus portals through two rooms without realizing it before he’s in the laundry room.

Alexander looks awful.

Magnus has never seen him so horrified, or so afraid and Magnus wonders just what kind of betrayal he’s committed that has him showing his emotions so openly.

“Magnus, I didn’t know.” Is the first thing that Alexander says when he sees him. He reaches out but for the first time, Alec is the one who hesitates and pulls back, Magnus hates it.

He also hates that he does nothing to stop it, just watches Alec carefully and coldly, his heart already shivering as if preparing to shatter.

“I’m sorry.”

Magnus still isn’t sure what Alec’s done but the first realization that it’s something very different than what Magnus assumed is when Alexander opens his mouth to speak and instead sniffles, though he tries to hide it with a cough.

Nothing about Alexander’s character shows that he’d use this kind of emotional manipulation tactic and while Magnus could be wrong about everything still, he’s willing to be slightly wrong about this. It’s possible that whatever Alexander’s done is truly an accident, it would explain why he called for Magnus so frantically. Perhaps he’s even trying to fix it. Which Magnus is amiable to, depending on the problem and why Alexander did whatever he did.

“I thought when you said they were waterproof, that meant they could go in the wash machine.” Alexander is speaking slowly, hesitation dripping from his words and he’s fidgeting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

It’s the most uncomfortable Magnus has ever seen Alexander in Magnus’ own space and home and lair and he hates it.

“What did you think was waterproof?”

A notebook? One of Magnus spellbooks? The correspondence and data from the Labyrinth? None of which are things that Magnus thinks would be in the laundry room unless Alexander was sneaking through them and dropping them into the sink or washing machine by accident. Unlikely, but currently the most plausible of options.

Magnus pauses as he sees Alexander actually slump, his shoulders folding in on himself and he looks as if he shrinks, his height no different but his presence diminishing.

Alexander looks at Magnus one last time, guilty and so wretched that Magnus wants to pull him into a kiss just to force the look off of his face. Then he pulls up not one of Magnus’ priceless spellbooks, but a pair of custom and while not priceless, certainly expensive shoes from the sink. He then holds up a second pair, just as guiltily and Magnus understands exactly where the misunderstanding happened.

However he can’t do anything about it, because Alexander — his strong, brave and beautiful shadowhunter husband who is trying to love Magnus despite both their fears — thinks Magnus will be upset about shoes?

In a world of espionage and suicidal spouses, Alexander thinks a few pairs of shoes is worth anything? Especially when Magnus had told him they were waterproof. He’d only meant that in a ‘no Alexander you don’t need to put your jacket on the ground, I can walk through a puddle myself’ kind of way, not a ‘this can go in the wash machine’ kind of way.

Really, Magnus is beginning to be concerned about which books from Magnus’ shelves Alexander is reading that his first instinct is to sacrifice a hunting grade jacket for magically sealed shoes.

Or be cleaning Magnus’ shoes as regularly as he tries. Just last week Alexander attempted to hand-polish some of Magnus’ demon leather boots. Just handling the material would have damaged his skin!

Magnus vaguely recognizes the feeling of the euphoria of his relief peak, the giddiness swelling up as he checks his wards and realizes that yes, his shoes going through the wash is truly what made his Alexander panic so badly.

—

Catarina portals at the first tug of magic, despite it not being frantic or in danger. It’s too intense for her not to worry and it’s with concern that she pauses at Magnus' laundry room, confused.

First by the scene of Magnus laughing so hysterically he’s crying, magical makeup smeared with the effort of his tears and room is raining as a result. Magnus is only spared being drenched because the rain is turning to steam before it hits his skin.

And secondly because Alec’s completely drenched and is currently watching Magnus with a level of panic that is keeping him from breathing. Which is probably why Magnus called for her, considering he looks like he’ll burst into flames if he doesn’t get all his laughter out.

“Here, it’s fine. Whatever happened Magnus wouldn’t be laughing like that if he was mad at you.”

Cat can guess the gist of it.

Not what’s happened, but what is terrifying Alec. Despite acting as if he belongs in Magnus’ lair, Catarina’s spent enough time watching him to know that he very carefully considers every move he makes in Magnus’ loft. Not out of fear, but because he desperately wants to do the best he can do. At first she’d thought that had been to trick Magnus, but now she realizes that whatever it is he wants is far more personal than a Clave mission.

“I broke his shoes.”

It comes out in a whispered whimper. A noise that Catarina would have never guessed could come from a shadowhunter, let alone a Lightwood. There’s such deep regret and agony in his voice and Cat has to close her eyes to push back her amusement.

“Ah—” he’s panicking still and Catarina thinks she has a better picture, “were you worried about how he’d react?” Magnus is still laughing and Catarina sees the shoes, very ruined indeed, on the floor.

“Magnus loves his shoes.”

While that is certainly true, none of Magnus shoes hold a single ounce of his emotions the way Alexander Gideon Bane does.

“Yes, but they are replaceable. And I don’t think you did it on purpose.” At Alec’s horrified look she clarifies, “I just meant that he’d only be upset if you’d ruined them on purpose. You clearly didn’t.”

“How do I fix it?”

Catarina blinks and then takes a look at a still laughing Magnus and takes the risk, grabbing Alec’s wrist. He lets her, lets her pull him too. Acts like he’s as light as a feather, willing to go anywhere she pulls and she bets he is, for Magnus.

Though her trust hasn’t been given, she trusts her own instincts enough to know this much.

“First we’re going to put a salve on your face, otherwise Magnus won’t be able to take you seriously with how red your nose is. Also calm down, you’re acting like you murdered Ragnor, not Magnus’ shoes.”

Alec’s glower would be more intimidating if it weren’t so mortified and while it’s sweet he cares so much, it’s also not going to help him or Magnus. They’re both too high-strung for this kind of ridiculousness.

“Why did you even put them in the washer?”

“Because they were dirty? And he said they were waterproof.” Alec looks so confused by the question and traumatized by the fact that his innocent assumption went so wrong. “He got all huffy at me the last time I tried to clean his shoes by hand and used magic instead of letting me do it.”

“Where do you even come up with doing this stuff? I know you didn’t learn it as a nephilim.”

Catarina means it too, because none of this is normal shadowhunter behavior by any means.

“I try to think about what would be helpful and also I’ve been researching.” Alec looks and sounds so smug at the last bit that Catarina bites back another smile at how proud he is of learning things for Magnus. “Warlock courtship gestures, the Rites of Labor and Love. Where you do something for your partner that they could do with magic, because you want to ease their burden. Especially if it’s something important to them and because their is power in intent.”

Catarina tries very hard not to say or do anything that will give her surprise and shock away. She hums, keeping her breathing calm and even because Alec’s the type to notice those things. “It’s a good book, if you get through the first part.”

It’s a test and it’s clear that Alec misses it, because his eyes light up, the last of his panic finally fading.

“I really liked the first part, I think it was romantic about how deep of a connection different bonds can form.”

Catarina knows that Alec thinks he’s admitting to courting Magnus, which he is. However it’s clear that even he hasn’t yet learned the secret of the book.

Of consorts.

Cat smirks to herself as she helps Alec navigate Magnus’ wardrobe and politely doesn’t watch as he dresses. If Alec is this invested in making it work, then she might help give an extra shove rather than just a nudge.

“This is the address of his favorite custom shop at the local night market. They'll open in a few nights. Just going and admiring him as he tries on shoes will make him happy,

“I can buy them for him.” Alec is actually sulking, arms crossed and chin stubborn as his dark eyes meet her’s. “The Clave gives the married shadowhunters a stipend based on their rank. I might as well use it for something useful. I should, since I broke them.”

“Good luck getting Magnus to let you.” Cat doesn’t quite mean it as a challenge but from the glint in Alec’s eyes, he’s going to take it as one.

Good, Magnus deserves a little trouble sometimes.

But only in good ways, of course.

AN:

if either of these two were a little less dramatic they'd be so much further in their relationship, but alas. they're already married so it doesn't count as slowburn okay. I standby by my 'doesnt write slowburns' lol they're both gone on each other already too.

uh this kind of gives Magnus and Cat a glimpse into how invested Alec is in this house husband business he's got going on. before they've only really seen him competent or composed about it. like, it's even more suspicious because he's so composed. then this happens and he's like 'i've ruined everything!' and Magnus and cat are just like: are Shadowhunters supposed to be this dramatic? or did Magnus influence him unknowingly like partners sometimes do.

Alec's actually very upset because he hates being bad at things and also he finally has something good to use his money on. what do you mean he's not going to pay for the shoes, Catarina? of course he is.

Magnus is not ignoring Alec's panic, it's why he got Cat also he was having like, a dissociative euphoric moment of hysterical relief. Alec is a bit in shock because 'he made Magnus so sad it rained? but also he's laughing? I did not ruin things?'

Cat just helps Alec not get lost in the deeper layers of Magnus' closet.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #the bitter trap of truth #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #malec #magnus bane #catarina loss

91 notes · View notes

cryptidghostgirl · 1 year ago

Note

*Shuffles in* HEWWWOO

I GOT ANOTHER (I'm so sorry) Alastor x Chubby!Reader 😔

(This might seem weird and so so strange but I swear it's not perverted and shouldn't be seen as such)

Magic is in hell, yeah??? SOOO what if Alastor tries to his dark voodoo sprinkle magic but IT BACKFIRES or something while he tries to fix that one wall in the show that keeps getting destroyed or helping charlie with something 🤔 and he turns into A KID BUT A HUMAN KID BACK WHEN HE WAS ALIVE and everyone kinda justs bombards him with questions and comments (not Husk in the background smirking because Alastor is an asshole to him so he's planning all the ways he can get his revenge, Charlie freaking out, Angel cooing at his cuteness, vaggie cursing up a storm, niffty sulking because he's no longer a bad boy) and I would imagine that child Alastor is kinda like '🥹who are all these weird creatures, where am I, where's momma' ...😭 chaos ensues, Alastor just wants his momma so he's crying as loud as he can because 'I'm lost' (HES A MOMMAS BOY AND I FEEL AS A KID HE WAS INNOCENT AND SWEET) the hazbin hotel residents immediately try to calm him down but he only gets louder THEN LIKE AN ACTUAL ANGEL here comes reader back from shopping or waking up and is welcomed to all the commotion, and after making her presence known Alastor just sniffles at her, tears streaming down his face 😢 reader immediately going to tiny Alastor to help and tiny Alastor who thinks reader is a fairy? Angel?? Goddess?? Some warm welcoming figure that he's gonna marry (like playground kids sometimes do??) so he's calming when she goes to help him,' he's been kidnapped' looking back at the hazbin gang, more tears coming, reader immediately going into caretaker mode and cares for him throughout the whole ordeal, while Alastor gushes about his momma or talkinging readers ear off about anything and everything (Charlie figures out it only lasts all day somehow) so Alastor sticks with reader and helps her with her duties at the hotel, never leaving her side, at the end of the day before he goes to bed

Angel teases tiny Alastor about reader being his mommy que reader blushing and sputtering from reader only for Alastor to turn to Angel with disgust and determination on his face to proudly announce to Angel that reader is gonna be HIS WIFE INSTEAD only for husk to scoff in the background and says something about Alastor being a smiley freak or something for Alastor to doubt that reader will marry him, that thats never gonna happen, only for reader to kiss Alastor on the forehead and declare that that doesn't change anything because Alastor has always owned her heart, something sweet???? To reassure kid Alastor then reader takes Alastor to his hotel room to sleep, to later on in the night to sneak into readers bed because 'momma cuddles with me till I fall asleep', sleepy cuddles, soothing humming for child Alastor to ask before he falls asleep if reader really will marry him when he's older and Reader half asleep herself and full of love for the man he'll grow to be says yes, but to take her out first or get her flowers ya know???

When reader wakes the next morning to flowers surrounding her bed and her favorite breakfast presented to her with a bashful adult Alastor saying he's kept his side of the deal now its readers turn, readers faces lights up and smiles big enough to hurt her cheeks and they date and get married ☺️😣

(I'm sorry it's a weird request and soooooo fucking long but .....please..)

A/N I literally love you and your requests. Hi. Also I am making her a rabbit again because I feel like that would be something that a kid would not find scary and would be very excited about as a demon form.

Mishap of Magic (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Nothing except that Alastor is a little kid for most of this fic.

Word Count: 3,463

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask.

It wasn't the first time it had happened to Alastor but, it had certainly been a while since the last time he'd had to deal with such an issue. Magic was a fickle thing, obstinate at the best of times. He had found a certain agreement of sorts with the metaphysical but, it still backfired on occasion.

Alastor had been trying to fix the wall -- the fucking wall. Somehow, every time there was an issue with the hotel, this same exterior wall was involved. It was inconceivable and deeply irritating, especially now that it had been the trigger. Alastor could feel the world shifting, feel himself shrinking and then, nothing.

"Uh, what the fuck?" Vaggie broke the silence, stress seeping into her voice.

"Oh my gosh! Vaggie!" Charlie exclaimed, grabbing onto her girlfriend's arm and shaking it violently, a bright smile lighting up her face, "He looks like a little kid!"

"Damn," Angel laughed lightly, "who woulda guessed the strawberry pimp was actually a cute at one point in time."

Alastor looked around in confusion. A tangle of limbs, wild creatures and bright colors. Husk smirked, trying to hold a derisive laugh at bay as he placed a bottle on the shelf of the bar.

"Charlie," Vaggie sighed, turning to her overexcited partner who at the moment was cooing over how small Alastor had become, "you do realize we have to change him back."

All the joy fell from Charlie's face in an instant.

"Hey, uh, little guy?" Pentious began, awkwardly advancing towards Alastor, "You wouldn't happen to know how we can fix this? I-"

"Stay away!"

His voice was small and shrill, panicked as Alastor backed away from Pentious' advancement. Sir Pentious stopped in his tracks and Charlie let go of Vaggie, coming up beside him.

"It's okay, Alastor." she said in a tone of voice that was trying very hard to be everything except for panicked, which is what it actually was, "He's not going to attack you.''

It became evident almost immediately that that had in fact been the wrong thing for Charlie to say. Alastor's eyes filled with sudden tears.

"Where... stay away from me!" he exclaimed, "My momma told me not to talk to strangers."

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a glance and Charlie sighed.

"We're not strangers, we're you're friends. I am Charlie, that is Vaggie, Husk is in the bar, this is Angel, and here is Sir Pentious. Remember?"

"I don't know any of you scary things!" Alastor exclaimed, tears beginning to drip from his wide, wet eyes and roll down his cheeks, "I... I want my mommy. Where is my mommy?"

"Oh! No no no!" Charlie exclaimed, trying to reach a comforting hand out to the child but he backed away again.

"Where is my mama!" he yelled, now absolutely sobbing, "I want... I want..."

He sniffled, trying to catch his breath as he looked frantically around the room. Charlie turned to Vaggie, pulling at her hair.

"What do we do!" she asked her girlfriend who shrugged, as much at a loss of how to handle the situation as her partner was.

"Man, if I 'da known he was this cute and... and frail under that whole persona all along." Angel sighed wistfully, crossing his lower set of arms.

This time Husk really couldn't stop the laugh that left him. Before anyone could ask what was so funny, if he knew anything about what was going on, the doors to the hotel opened and Y/n waltzed in. Her arms were laden with bags and she wore a bright, sunny smile.

"Al!" she called out, closing the door gently behind her, "You'll never guess what I found at the market!"

"Um, Y/n?" Sir Pentious tentatively began, taking a step towards her as she turned to the group.

"Fresh strawberries!"

As her eyes fell on the scene before her, the smile fell from her face, replaced with an expression of alarm. The bags fell from her grasp, spilling groceries across the floor as she rushed to the young Alastor's side. His mouth was slightly open, tears still falling openly from his eyes, as she crouched before him. The white skirt of her dress pooled gently on the floor around her feet as she raised a handkerchief to his face, gently patting his cheeks with its edge.

"What on earth is going on?" she asked softly, her voice laced delicately with concern.

"Well, Alastor was fixing the wall and then he just... poofed? I don't know! We don't know what happened and we don't know how to fix it and he keeps asking for his mom and... and... and..." Charlie trailed off, looking around helplessly at her companions.

Y/n's gentle gaze never once left Alastor's. She smiled softly at him.

"I see, are you lost?"

Alastor nodded weakly, sniffing once.

"And there are all these big scary monsters around!" he told her.

"Ah, I see." Y/n sagely replied, "Am I a big scary monster too?"

She didn't mean it in any way except as an attempt to assess the situation further. Alastor's cheeks flushed slightly pink as he shook his head, looking away bashfully. Y/n smiled softly, turning his face gently back to her.

"Would you like to stay with me until we can figure out what is going on?"

The tears had stopped now and Alastor nodded enthusiastically. Y/n dabbed the last remains of saltwater from his cheeks, slipping the handkerchief into her pocket. In a single, swift and practiced motion, Y/n lifted Alastor up, resting him on her hip. His hands immediately went to one of her floppy ears, running his little hands over it in awe.

"Bunny." he stated and Y/n nodded.

"Yeah, I am just like a bunny, okay?"

Alastor met her eyes.

"You're pretty like a bunny too!" he announced proudly and Y/n felt her cheeks grow slightly warm.

"Ah, what a little charmer." she noted, tapping his nose lightly and Alastor giggled.

"How are you so good with him?" Angel asked and Y/n turned towards him as Alastor continued to fiddle with her ear.

"What do you mean?"

"He just kept crying when we were trying to help."

Y/n shrugged slightly.

"I was the oldest growing up. I always had to take care of my baby cousins and stuff like that. Besides, little kids are the sweetest a this age!"

Angel's eyes flicked between Y/n and her enthusiasm and little Alastor who seemed absolutely awestruck in her arms.

"Yeah." he scoffed, "That is all it is."

"Now, Alastor." Y/n hummed, turning to face the boy who immediately met her gaze, his earnest air only endearing her to him further, "I have some work to get done, I cook here at the hotel. Do you want to come help me?"

"Uh-huh." he nodded vigorously and Y/n smiled.

"Well, that's a relief cause, you know, I could really use your help."

"Really?"

Alastor's eyes lit up at the notion, that she needed him, that it wasn't just an empty offer.

"Yeah I could." Y/n confirmed, "How else am I supposed to know if the fruit is ripe or the meal is good if you don't try it for me first?"

Alastor giggled and Y/n turned, glancing at her bags still splayed out on the floor.

"Pen, can you help me with these?"

Immediately, the snake demon agreed, grabbing the fallen produce and placing it back into the bags before hoisting them onto his shoulders. The trio had made it about halfway across the lobby to the service door that lead to the kitchen when Y/n paused, looking back at Charlie over her shoulder.

"Charls, I'd quiz Husk about this if I were you." she advised gently, "He seems far too pleased at the situation to not know exactly what is going on."

The day sped by in a whirl of something akin to unbound joy. It was a peaceful reminder of the person she had been to take care of Alastor like this. They had always been close, he didn't own her soul or anything but Y/n and Alastor had been friends for years. When he had asked her to come help out at the hotel, she had jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him after so many years.

Despite their closeness, neither knew all too much about the other. There was always an unspoken barrier of sorts in the way. For Y/n, it was a mild attraction to the man. He was a moralist at heart with a strict code completely of his own he always stuck to and Y/n admired him for that. She wasn't sure what the disconnect was on Alastor's side but, in the moment, she didn't care. She had learned more about the man through this strange experience than she had ever hoped to, it was a gift.

It was his capacity for love, she realized as she lead him into the lobby to say his goodnights. Y/n had never realized how deeply Alastor cared about the people in his life or the world around him, he hid it so well as an adult. Child Alastor had no pretenses, he was completely and entirely himself with nothing held back. In a weird way, it almost strengthened the feelings she had for him as an adult, being allowed to experience him like this.

All day, he had trailed after her, doing his absolute best to complete every task she assigned him and talking all the while about how much he loved his home and his mom. It was sweet, it was endearing, it was verging on dangerous. Y/n tried not to think about it as she held his small hand.

The pair came to a stop by the bar where the rest of the hotel's residents were sharing a drink. Charlie had found out earlier from Husk that this change in Alastor should only last a day and Y/n found herself nearly morose at the idea. She loved Alastor as a man, respected him, but he lost that openness he had had as a child, she realized. It was a shame that come sunrise, she wouldn't be able to have such open communication with the man again, a shame that the only open communication she would ever have with him was when he was a child incapable of adult though. Y/n squeezed his hand gently.

"Let's say goodnight, okay?"

Alastor looked doubtfully up at Y/n, still put off by the rest of the gang.

"They're your friends, I promise. Would I lie to you?"

Alastor thought it over before shaking his head slightly. He turned to face the group.

"Good night." he announced, his voice trembling just the slightest bit.

"Good job." Y/n hummed and Alastor smiled in pride.

"Damn, is this how you guys always are?" Angel laughed, taking a sip from his drink, evidently already intoxicated, "I mean, I knew you were friends before you came here, but are you always such a mom to him?"

"No!" Y/n indignantly replied, her cheeks flushing slightly pink, "We're just friends."

"Nah," Angel smirked after a moment, "you're totally his mom."

Y/n opened her mouth to reply when Alastor let go of her hand, stepping in front of her with his hands on his hips.

"Y/n is not my mom." he insisted to Angel who raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, then what is she?" the spider demon asked and Y/n glared at him.

"Y/n is the prettiest ever and when I grow up she's gonna be my wife!" Alastor proudly announced, "She is nice and gives the best hugs."

Angel and Husk both broke out into peals of laughter.

"Like you could land a girl like her." Husk scoffed.

"What do you mean?" Alastor asked, his words slurring slightly together from exhaustion.

"Hate to break it to you kid, but when you grow up, your creepy ass could never."

Alastor frowned deeply at this remark. He looked back at Y/n, his eyes bleeding helplessness. She felt her heart crack and crouched down beside him. Tucking his hair behind his ears, Y/n placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Don't listen to Husk." she smiled gently at him, "You have always had a place in my heart."

Alastor's face lit up at this and he turned back to Husk. Taking Y/n's hand back in his, he stuck his tongue out at the cat demon who rolled his eyes in response.

Once up in Alastor's room, Y/n tucked him in to bed and told him a story. Alastor's sleepy eyes struggled to stay open and when she moved to leave, it took some convincing to make him let go of her arm. With promises she would see him first thing in the morning, Y/n let the door close gently behind her and let out a sigh. She had forgotten how much work kids could be, she was exhausted.

She had barley made it back to her room, barley crawled into bed, when there was a soft knock at her door. With a sigh, she threw the covers from her legs and walked to the door, opening it with an irritated expression which softened the moment she saw who stood on the other side.

"What's going on, honey?" she asked, crouching down to Alastor's level and cupping his cheek gently in her soft hand.

"I can't sleep." he bashfully replied, "Momma cuddles me until I fall asleep."

"I see." Y/n hummed, getting to her feet and stepping to the side so he could enter.

Alastor looked up at Y/n in doubt and she gave him a nod of encouragement. It was all he needed to rush into the room and jump up onto her bed, snuggling down into the pile of covers. Y/n watched him for a moment, smiling softly, before closing the door and joining him.

Immediately, Alastor wrapped himself in her arms, snuggling into her chest. Y/n was frozen for a moment in indecision, but tiredness prevailed and in her sleepy state, all that mattered was that it was Alastor. Her oldest friend, the one who had never failed her. She pulled him close, resting her chin on his head.

"You're so comfy." Alastor mumbled through a yawn and Y/n chuckled.

"Its because I know how to enjoy all that life and the afterlife has to offer." she hummed softly in response, her breath tickling the top of his head, "Most men would prefer someone who looks different than me but, luckily I am not existing for men."

The pair fell silent for a moment. Sleep pulled at the edges of Y/n's ears, dragging her eyelids down. She hummed a gentle tune, a lullaby she had long since forgotten the words to but that she could hear her own mother in.

"Well, those men are stupid." Alastor grumpily replied, maneuvering himself around in Y/n's grasp so he faced her, "You look like a fairy."

Y/n cracked her eyes open, ruffling Alastor's hair slightly.

"Why thank you, I do try." she smiled.

"And I meant it."

"Meant what?"

Her eyes were closed again, her voice dreamy.

"When I grow up, I am going to marry you."

"Oh, are you now."

"Yes." Alastor insisted, and in his insistence, through the shrillness of his childlike tone, Y/n could hear him as an adult, as the man she knew, "When I am grown up, I am going to ask you to marry me. Will... you would say yes, right?"

Who would have guessed, the feared and decisive Radio Demon could doubt. Y/n smiled.

"Well, you can't just ask a girl to marry you right off the bat."

"You can't?"

There was a genuine confusion in his voice, Y/n had expected nothing less from a child. Still, she couldn't help but view him through the lens of his adult self in this moment. Maybe it was the exhaustion, the proximity, the dark, how lovely he was when he had nothing to protect himself from, when he did not yet know of the filter he needed in order to conduct himself in the world and not get fucked over by it.

"Nope." Y/n shook her head slightly.

"Why not?"

"Well, you have to court her first."

"Court her?"

"You know, ask her on dates, buy her flowers: woo her."

"Well then I will do that too."

The last thing Y/n remembered before the world gave way to sleep was Alastor asking what her favorite flower was.

"Hyacinths." she had told him, "The purple ones. But don't you dare buy them for me unless you have something to apologize for because they ask for forgiveness. Instead, buy me peonies, they are for new love."

The heat of Hell's false sun was what woke her. Y/n grumbled, rolling over in bed, the course of the day before re-materializing in her head. She smiled softly at the memory, a certain sadness creeping in at the fact that she would probably never be that vulnerable with the man again.

A faint, almost peppery smell reached her nose and Y/n cracked her eyes open. Around her was a world of soft pinks and whites, cascading petals and the most beautiful display of protracted death. She gasped slightly, sitting up in bed. Looking around her small room, she realized it was filled to the brim with peonies in different stages of life. As her eyes traveled to the foot of the bed, she found Alastor standing there, his cheeks flushed and a tray in his hands. On the tray was a stack of pancakes, all cut into the shape of flowers to match. Y/n laughed lightly, smiling up at him from where she sat in bed.

"What's all this?" she asked and his cheeks grew brighter still.

Alastor looked away, clearing his throat.

"I'm keeping my side of the deal."

Y/n searched her mind, looking for any trace of what he could possibly mean.

"The deal... oh!" it suddenly hit her, the sleep riddled conversation they had had the night before.

Her cheeks flushed pink, mirroring his and picking up the colors of the flowers he had surrounded her with. She smiled brightly at Alastor, pulling herself from the bed. The hem of her nightgown rippled gently against her legs as she approached him. With grace, she plucked a strawberry from the plate and popped it in her mouth.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" she grinned coyly up at him.

Alastor rolled his eyes.

"I'm... doing the things so... just..."

"Alastor."

"What?"

His discomfort was palpable, unfamiliar. She reveled in it.

"Do you actually like me?"

"I thought I told you. You know, when-"

"I thought that was just mindless chatter." she interrupted, "Little kids are always saying stuff like that."

"Well, I wasn't."

Y/n laughed and Alastor placed the tray carefully on the edge of the bed, turning back to her.

"Did I misinterpret what you said?"

"Not at all." Y/n said, taking a step closer to him.

"So you will marry me?"

She laughed again, she couldn't help herself. Y/n could tell that if Alastor was able to do anything but smile, he would be scowling at her reaction to his sincere question.

"Ask me out on a date."

"Bu-"

"Ask me out on a date!" she insisted and Alastor sighed.

"Fine. Would you..." he took a deep breath, nerves running wild, "would you like to go out... with me..."

"Oh wow, so confident." Y/n teased.

"Y/n." Alastor warned and her smile widened even further.

"Yes, Al. Yes, Alastor, I would love to go out on a date with you."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes." Y/n nodded, her hands clasped behind her back as she swayed slightly on her feet, "I will."

Before she could register what was happening, Y/n was in Alastor's arms. He lifted her off her feet, spinning her around.

"Wait!" she shrieked, "Alastor, put me down! Aren't I too heavy?"

"Not at all, my dear." he hummed, holding her close now.

"Still, put me down!" she bashfully requested and at last he conceded, her feet finding the cool of the wood once again, "How long have you been... you know."

"That, my dear, is for me to know."

He tapped her nose gently and one of her ears shifted in response. Y/n crossed her arms.

"Not fair." she whined.

"Eat." Alastor commanded, unable to be moved on this point, "Meet me downstairs after. We're going out."

----

Tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet

@reader3

457 notes · View notes

niallerspayno · 7 months ago

Text

With You Always (Zayn Malik x reader) - Fic Request

Anonymous request: My idea is Zayn Malik x reader (female/gender neutral) , where the reader is an equestrian (aka horse back rider) and she ends up taking a bad fall off her horse and need to go to hospital. Like how would Zayn react to that whole situation, and then maybe reader makes him lay down to hold her on the hospital bed after getting fixed up?

Masterlist

You’ve always known that horses were more than just animals. They were your escape, your partners in a world where the connection between rider and horse could feel almost magical. From the moment you were old enough to ride, you knew this would be your life. Raised by two trainers, you learned early on that success in equestrian sports came from a balance of hard work, trust, and, above all, a deep respect for the animals you worked with. As a professional horseback rider now, you’ve made a name for yourself in the industry, but the path hasn’t always been easy. Every day, you push yourself and your horses to new limits, striving for perfection, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your world has always revolved around horses. But on one fateful evening, everything shifts.

The invitation arrives for a charity gala in support of animal welfare. At first, you’re hesitant to attend—another night away from the barn, another night of dressing up and mingling. You’d much rather be spending the evening in the stables, practicing with your horses. But a close friend convinces you that it’s for a good cause, and you eventually agree to go.

You expect the usual gala—polished people in suits, forced conversation, and a general sense of formality. But as you walk into the venue, something feels different. The music is soothing, a live band playing soft, acoustic tunes in the corner. You find yourself drawn to the melodies, allowing the rhythm to wash over you as you scan the room, taking in the familiar faces.

That’s when you see him.

Zayn.

He’s standing by a small group of people, but you can’t help but notice him. He doesn’t seem like the typical gala guest, the starched collar and stiff demeanor you’ve seen too often. Instead, Zayn is relaxed, his eyes thoughtful, his demeanor calm. He’s wearing a simple black shirt and jeans, effortlessly blending into the crowd while still managing to exude an undeniable presence. His attention is on the animals—there’s a small group of rescue dogs roaming the space, and Zayn is gently petting one, his focus completely on the animal, as if nothing else matters.

You’re not sure why, but something pulls you toward him. You approach hesitantly, struck by the soft smile he gives you when your eyes meet.

“Hey,” you say, almost shyly. “You’re into animals too, huh?”

Zayn’s smile widens, a warmth in his eyes that makes you feel instantly at ease. “Always have been,” he replies, his voice calm and inviting. “Animals are… well, they just get it, you know?”

You laugh softly, nodding. “I do. Horses are like that for me. They’ve always been the one constant in my life.”

The conversation flows easily from there, the two of you sharing stories about the animals you’ve loved and cared for over the years. You quickly discover that, like you, Zayn’s love for animals runs deep. While he’s not involved in the equestrian world, his passion for rescue work and animal welfare is unmistakable. He’s been involved in various animal rights initiatives and has an undeniable love for all creatures, big and small.

But there’s something else that catches your attention. It’s the music.

Zayn mentions offhand that he’s always found solace in music, too. You learn that he’s a musician—one of the most successful in the world, actually. He’s used music as a way to connect with people, to express emotions and experiences. You mention your love for music as well, your appreciation for the way it can evoke emotion, the way it can tie together moments in life.

“It’s funny,” he says, his voice growing more animated. “I’ve always thought animals and music share something. There’s this connection, like they both have their own rhythm.”

The spark between you is immediate. It’s a mix of shared passions—animals and music—that forms a bridge between your worlds. The way Zayn talks about his career and his art, his ability to see the deeper meaning in the things around him, resonates with you in a way you didn’t expect. The more you talk, the more you realize how much you have in common, how much you both understand the need for connection, whether through animals or through the universal language of music.

By the end of the night, there’s no doubt in your mind that something has shifted. You didn’t expect to meet anyone who would make you feel so seen, so understood. But with Zayn, there’s a quiet confidence in the way he listens, the way he speaks. There’s no pretension, no barriers, just a shared love for the things that matter most.

When the evening wraps up, Zayn asks for your number, and you give it to him without hesitation. As he walks away, you can’t help but smile to yourself, knowing that tonight was only the beginning of something unexpected—and possibly extraordinary.

...

The arena is alive with excitement. The rhythmic pounding of hooves against packed dirt, the hum of the crowd, and the crisp tang of morning air fill your senses. This competition is one of the most prestigious of the season, and you’ve worked tirelessly to be here. Every jump, every stride, every moment has been meticulously prepared for.

Zayn is in the stands, a quiet yet unwavering source of support. He’s come to several of your competitions now, but it still makes your heart flutter to see him there, even if he tries to blend in with his baseball cap and sunglasses. Earlier, he had kissed your forehead, his hand lingering on your cheek as he murmured, “You’re going to crush it out there. Just don’t forget to breathe.”

As you mount Thunder, your trusted partner and cherished horse, you feel that familiar rush of adrenaline. You pat his neck gently, whispering, “Just you and me, boy. We’ve got this.” The crowd fades away, the world narrowing to just you, Thunder, and the course ahead.

The first jumps are seamless. Thunder glides over each hurdle with precision, his power and grace unmatched. The crowd is electric, cheering louder with every successful leap. You catch a glimpse of Zayn in the stands as you round a corner—his body is tense, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, his eyes never leaving you. His belief in you is palpable, and it fuels your determination.

But as you approach the final, most challenging jump, disaster strikes.

Thunder’s stride falters at the last second, a miscalculation that sends both of you tumbling. The world spins as you’re thrown from the saddle, hitting the ground hard. The pain is immediate and excruciating, radiating from your side and leg, leaving you breathless. Your head slams against the dirt, and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth.

A sharp cry escapes your lips as agony surges through your body. The crowd gasps in horror, the cheers turning into murmurs of alarm. Everything feels distant, muffled, as if you’re underwater. Thunder scrambles to his feet nearby, unharmed but clearly distressed.

Zayn is on his feet instantly, his heart dropping into his stomach as he watches you fall. He doesn’t think—he just moves, pushing through the crowd and vaulting over the barrier with an urgency he’s never felt before.

“(Y/N)!” he shouts, his voice breaking.

He’s at your side in seconds, dropping to his knees, his hands hovering as he takes in the sight of you—your face pale, your body trembling, and your leg twisted at an unnatural angle. His chest tightens at the sight of blood on your temple.

“Baby, I’m here,” he says, his voice steady despite the sheer panic flooding his system. “Don’t move, okay? Just stay with me.”

Your eyes flutter open, the pain almost too much to bear. “Zayn…” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks. “It hurts so much.”

“I know, love,” he says, his hand finding yours and gripping it tightly. “I know. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

The medics rush onto the field, their voices urgent as they assess your injuries. A fractured femur, possible rib fractures, and a concussion—they’re rattling off words that make Zayn’s stomach churn. He refuses to let go of your hand, his presence an anchor in the storm of pain and fear.

“Sir, we need to move her,” one of the medics says firmly.

“I’m coming with her,” Zayn replies immediately, his voice brooking no argument.

As they lift you onto the stretcher, you cry out in pain, your grip on Zayn’s hand tightening. He leans down, his forehead brushing against yours. “I’m not leaving you,” he whispers fiercely. “Not for a second.”

...

The sterile white walls and fluorescent lights of the hospital blur as you’re rushed through the hallways. Every jolt of the gurney sends another wave of pain rippling through your body, and though the medics are speaking in calm, measured tones, their urgency is impossible to miss. You’re slipping in and out of consciousness, the world fading in flashes of light and muffled sound.

But Zayn never leaves your side.

He’s there, running alongside the gurney, his hand still clasped tightly in yours. His face is pale, his dark eyes wide with fear, but he keeps whispering reassurances, his voice steady and unwavering.

“You’re strong,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re going to get through this. Just hold on, love.”

When they wheel you into the trauma bay, a nurse gently tells him he has to wait outside. Zayn hesitates, his hand tightening around yours, as if letting go will mean losing you.

“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “Take care of her.”

The nurse nods, her tone gentle but firm. “We will. I promise.”

He lets go, his fingers slipping from yours, and it feels like the ground is falling out from under him. Left alone in the hallway, he paces back and forth, running a hand through his hair as he tries to steady his racing thoughts. Every second feels like an eternity, the worst-case scenarios playing on an endless loop in his mind.

Finally, after what feels like hours, a doctor steps out. Zayn is at her side in an instant.

“She’s stable,” the doctor says, her expression calm but serious. “She’s suffered a fractured femur, two broken ribs, and a concussion. She’ll need surgery to repair the leg, but the prognosis is good. It’s going to be a long recovery, but she’s strong.”

The weight on Zayn’s chest lifts just enough for him to breathe. “Can I see her?”

The doctor nods. “She’s being prepped for surgery, but you can see her briefly.”

When he steps into the room, his heart twists at the sight of you. You’re lying on the hospital bed, pale and fragile, your leg immobilized in a temporary brace. The beeping of monitors fills the room, and an IV drips steadily beside you. But your eyes flutter open when he walks in, and the faintest smile touches your lips.

“Hey,” you whisper, your voice weak but filled with relief.

Zayn moves to your side, his hand finding yours again as he sits in the chair next to your bed. “Hey, love,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, tears welling in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” he interrupts, brushing your hair back gently. “Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.”

You squeeze his hand weakly, your eyes searching his. “Thunder… Is he okay?”

Zayn smiles faintly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “He’s fine. A little shaken, but unharmed. He’s being looked after.”

Relief washes over your face, and your eyes close for a moment. “I was so scared…”

“So was I,” he admits, his voice breaking. “But you’re here, and you’re going to be okay. That’s all that matters.”

Before long, the nurses come to wheel you to surgery. Zayn presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if he’s willing his strength into you. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promises. “I’m not going anywhere.”

...

The fog of anesthesia clings to you as you slowly drift back to consciousness. The world feels heavy and blurred, a haze of distant sounds and faint sensations. Gradually, the sterile light of the hospital room comes into focus, along with the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the faint hum of voices outside the door.

And then there’s him.

Zayn’s voice reaches you first, soft and full of quiet strength. “Hey, love… It’s me. I’m right here.”

You blink slowly, your eyes adjusting to the light. When you finally focus, Zayn is sitting at your bedside, his fingers wrapped tightly around yours. His face is etched with exhaustion, his dark eyes shadowed but filled with relief.

“Zayn,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and trembling.

He leans closer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m here,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “You’re awake. Thank God.”

Pain tugs at your body when you try to shift, and you let out a soft whimper. His free hand immediately moves to your shoulder, steadying you. “Don’t move, love. Just take it easy. You’re fresh out of surgery.”

Tears blur your vision as the memory of the fall rushes back. “I thought I wouldn’t make it,” you admit, your voice breaking.

Zayn’s jaw tightens, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. “Don’t say that,” he whispers. “You’re here now. You’re safe. That’s what matters.”

Tears spill down your cheeks, and he leans in, wiping them away with tender fingers. “It hurt so much,” you choke out, your body trembling. “I couldn’t stop it… I couldn’t—”

“Shh,” he soothes, his forehead pressing softly against yours. “I know, baby. I know. But you’re so strong. You fought through it. And I’ll be here to help you fight through the rest.”

You squeeze his hand weakly, grounding yourself in the warmth of his touch. “I’m so scared, Zayn.”

His voice softens, and his eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. “You don’t have to be. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll face this together.”

For a moment, the room is quiet except for the beeping monitors and your ragged breaths. Then, through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you whisper, “Will you… hold me? Please?”

Zayn’s eyes widen briefly, but his expression softens almost immediately. “Of course,” he says without hesitation.

He glances at the narrow hospital bed, his brow furrowing. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

Carefully, Zayn slips off his shoes and climbs onto the small bed beside you. He maneuvers himself with the utmost care, mindful of your injuries. When he finally settles in, he wraps an arm gently around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. His other hand cradles yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your knuckles.

You let out a shaky breath, the warmth of his body immediately easing the tension in yours. “This… this helps,” you murmur, your head resting against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is more comforting than any drug.

Zayn presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Good,” he whispers. “Then I’ll stay like this as long as you need.”

His presence is a balm, the weight of his arm around you grounding you in a way nothing else could. For the first time since the fall, you feel safe—truly safe. Despite the pain, despite the uncertainty of what’s ahead, you let yourself relax in his embrace, your breathing evening out as sleep starts to pull you under.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words soft but full of truth.

Zayn tightens his hold just slightly, his lips brushing against your hair. “I love you more,” he murmurs. “Rest, love. I’ve got you.”

And with that, you drift into a peaceful sleep, his arms your shelter from the storm.

#zayn malik x y/n #zayn malik x reader #zayn malik fanfiction #zayn malik x you #zayn x reader #zayn x y/n #one direction fanfiction

125 notes · View notes

raynesbunny · 1 year ago

Text

WHAT MAKES THEM EMBARRASSED?

Mashle headcanon!

💌: GN!reader, fluff

⚠️: Ooc and maybe cringe, slight suggestive on Orter's part?

Requested by: @rainee-da

Characters: Orter Madl, Rayne Ames, Abyss Razor

Others: Guess who's back! I was thinking of finishing all the short stories before going back, though— but I don't want to keep you guys waiting! I'll feel very bad if I do so｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡ Angst Rayne A. x reader coming soon! Still fixing a lot of errors<33 Enjoy reading, pookies!(≧▽≦) (this is my first time writing a headcanon so please do leave a message if there are errors!)

—

Orter Màdl

♡ It's almost impossible to make this man feel embarrassed; he hardly shows any expressions regardless of what others do—always wearing a straight and serious face! Many have attempted to make him laugh and smile, but their efforts have always been in vain, no matter how much they've tried. It almost seemed like expressing emotions is against the rules to him!

♡ And then there's you, his dearest, his partner, his beloved, his darling, his sweetheart, his sunshine, his angel, his lover, the one who melted his icy heart and kept it warm—the only one capable of evoking emotions within him that he never thought he would experience someday. (although, this rule-obsessed man cannot bring himself to admit it openly!)

♡ If there's one thing that can make Orter feel embarrassed, it would be your unexpected, sneaky and quick yet soft kisses and pecks!

♡ Whenever you peck his cheek, his brain momentarily stops functioning, and his heart flutters. His body freezes (and a faint blush is visible on his cheeks) at the touch of your soft lips against his skin.

♡ Your innocent and delicate feathered kisses drives him wild, but he would never dare to utter a word about his longing for more of those adorable little kisses!

Extra:

♡ Today was another busy day for the young man, Orter Màdl. Well— busier than usual that he had forgotten to bring his lunch with him.

And here you are, now in his office to deliver the homemade lunch to your hard-working lover, along with an encouraging letter you poured your heart into creating!

Upon noticing your presence, Orter averted his gaze from his work and looked up at your approaching figure with a small bag in your hand.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

"You forgot your lunch at home, and I won't allow my man to work with an empty stomach, so I decided to bring it here to you," you replied.

Orter remained silent, choosing to turn his focus back to his paperwork. However, his shoulders seemed more relaxed now, and his facial expression had softened. That sight alone was enough for you to know that he was grateful, and he doesn't need to express it through words or pay you back.

(The pile of paperwork on his desk bothered you. You seriously wanted to help, but this stubborn boyfriend of yours would not let you, and you were left with no choice.)

(Last time, you tried helping him, but it only ended up with you wrapped in his sand magic.)

"Here's your lunch, by the way. Don't forget to eat it at lunchtime," you said, placing the small bag with his lunchbox inside on his desk. When you heard no answer, you glanced at him, seeing that he was focused on his work.

This seemed to be the perfect time to take the chance and sneak a kiss.

As your lips were about to reach his cheek, Orter turned around (on purpose), causing your lips to meet his instead.

You were about to pull away immediately, only for the desert cane to grab your wrists, pin you down on his desk and deepen the kiss, preventing you from moving and keeping the kiss from breaking. Leaving you breathless and blushing, a flustered mess.

—

Rayne Ames

♡ Just like the rule-obsessed divine visionary, he's often cold and serious. But believe me when I say that he isn't cruel! He's just having a hard time expressing that he actually cares for the people, especially those whom he's fond of, interested in, and of course- you.

♡ Speaking of you, you are his everything. He'd do anything to keep you safe, make you feel loved, respected, and comforted! Even with his busy schedule, he'll find a way to prioritize you, no matter what. (You matter the most in his life, aside from his rabbits and Finn, of course he'll prioritize those who are important to him.) Though, there are times that he must attend to his duties first, but he'll be sure to make it up to you! It just takes some time, and hopefully you'll understand.

♡ And when I say you're his everything, I mean; you're his joy, his comfort, his warmth, his flower, his world, his dream, his reason to smile, his strength, his motivation, his star, his light—

♡ If there is something that makes this man embarrassed, it's the way you know or understand what he wants (sometimes mentioning it) and letting him know that you have given him your consent!

♡ He will hesitate at first, but will give in as soon as he knows that you are certain. Like those days where he was staring down at your lips with a troubled expression, and this will never go unnoticed by you.

♡ You held yourself back from laughing, it was truly an adorable and amusing sight!

♡ You would press your forehead against his, your lips parting to mutter the words that you have given him your consent.

♡ Rayne's face would turn bright red, his gaze snapping to you with a look of embarrassment. He cannot believe he got caught again!

♡ You chuckled at the expression on his face, but your laughter died down when Rayne immediately brought his lips to meet yours in a gentle yet firm kiss, the contact sending a warm shiver down your spine.

Extra:

♡ You were playing with Rayne's pet rabbits in your shared room, wearing the comfortable rabbit hoodie that matched with your boyfriend but in your favorite color.

"There! All done!" You chirped and stroked Usao's fluffy fur, staring at all the rabbits decorated with ribbons in awe.

"[Name.]"

At the sound of his voice calling your name, you turned around to face him. Once you did, you're met with himself close to you, the sudden closeness making your eyes widen in surprise and confusion. "Is something the matter?"

(It was hard reading him this time, not even a single clue was visible! Is he doing this on purpose?)

Said boyfriend shook his head before gently taking your hand in his, caressing it tenderly.

He closed his eyes and brought your hand up to his lips for him to place a soft and long kiss.

The kiss lasted for a while and it took you some time to process what just happened. When you did, you found yourself stunned and flustered.

—

Abyss Razor

♡ Believe when I say THAT THIS MAN GETS ALL FLUSTERED WITH EVERYTHING YOU DO. (You were just too much for his heart to handle, he might explode in embarrassment.)

♡ Even the simplest, smallest things you do, like getting close to him, holding his hand, or even a gentle poke on the cheek, headpats, or your compliments, cause him to freeze in embarrassment or leave him trembling and a stuttering mess. (Even your smile and voice!)

♡ The last time this happened was when you were combing his hair and you stopped when you caught a whiff of the scent of his hair.

You drew closer to him, hoping to smell that pleasant fragrance again.

"Say, Abyss, what shampoo do you use?"

♡ He responded with silence, you were just too close to him! Close enough that his brain stopped functioning!

♡ Abyss.exe has stopped working.

♡ You are welcome to shower this lover of yours with affection, but please have mercy! He has zero experience when it comes to this! (Your affections for him might be the cause of his death /j)

♡ He is so adorable, please don't ever hurt him. Cherish him with all your heart, for goodness' sake! He deserves all the love and care.<33

Extra:

Your fingers brushed the silky strands of your lover's hair, tucking it behind his ear before clipping it with a ribbon. (I live for the coquettish display<33)

Once you were done, you gasped at the sight of your lover with his hair neatly down and a ribbon clipped in place.

"My goodness! You look beautiful, my love, as always!"

"Even with my cursed evil eye?"

"Nonsense! I find your evil eye unique and beautiful! Even with or without that, you will always be a beauty in my eyes, both on the outside and the inside!"

Just as he was about to respond, you gently placed your finger on his lips and embraced him, burying your face in his stomach.

"Hush! Don't even think of saying those words. Your cursed evil eye has nothing to do with who you are! You have done nothing wrong! If no one else will accept the whole of you aside from Abel, then I WILL. I do not care what that evil eye of yours will do to me, I am willing to embrace everything in you. I will always love you, even with all your flaws. Nothing and no one can change my mind and my heart—"

You stopped yourself from rambling when you felt a sudden drop of liquid fall on top of your head.

"Abyss?"

You sat up to check on him, only for panic to rush through you as your eyes met his face that is soaked with tears.

"Did I say something wrong? Please, don't cry and tell me what's wrong! It pains me to see you in tears!" (You might cry too /j)

Receiving no response from him, you were left with no choice but to embrace him in a hug, hoping that it could provide him solace.

Abyss wrapped his arms around you in return, his tears soaking the fabric on your shoulder. (Which you did not mind at all.)

He could never be more grateful than being accepted despite the flaws he bore, especially his very own evil eye.

—

I'll add a few more characters for this headcanon after writing the second angst I'm planning to write! I hope you enjoyed reading my first headcanon! Have a great, wonderful day or night, lovelies!💌

#💌.astria writes!#💌.astria's hcs!#mashle x reader #mashle #rayne ames x reader #orter madl x reader #abyss razor x reader

320 notes · View notes

ahoycaptainautumn · 2 years ago

Text

Fated Mates Part 10 Final

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

The finale. The meeting that has been destined in the stars. Shall you both agree to the mating bond, or go separate ways?

Words seep into your brain and wash it in all this new information. You read and reread the passage on Vampiric Mates as if it could give you anything new. It feels like your brain is processing and then restarting at the last moment. This couldn’t be right, right? If it is, if you two are mates, then Astarion knew. He knew and he didn’t tell you. He didn’t tell you when you met, didn't tell you when you had kissed him. Hells he didn’t even tell you when you fucked in that abandoned temple. You had gone through every step of the mating process without a single inkling of understanding. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to feed this into your earlier rage at Astarion’s dismissal of you. But it honestly just made it make sense. Mates didn’t get to choose whom their mate was destined to be. He didn’t have a choice. He never once had a choice in 200 years and once again the universe did not give him a chance. The moment he tastes freedom, feels the sun on his skin again, he lays eyes on his mate. Not just any average person, a vampire hunter with a thirst for blood. Who damn near kills him in his tent. Were you still upset at being duped? Upset he ran instead of talked to you? Of course, you still wanted to punch him in his stupid perfect elf face. But more so you wanted to talk to him. To know what he felt, if this meant anything to him. If you meant anything to him. At the thought of you not, it made your stomach lurch. You recognize the feeling for what it is. That tightening rope feeling. A bond tie. A tethering to him that sung each time you thought of him or were near him. You had thought yourself just a silly schoolgirl for feeling such a strong emotion with his presence. Now it finally made sense. This whole adventure so far made so much more sense. You stood quickly and took a deep inhale. You needed to make this right. You needed to find him. You needed to find your mate.

Astarion tears through his chest once more as he paws his belongings again and again. Everything was here but that damned book. Worse yet, your scent lingered around the chest as if mocking him. He wants to believe it will magically appear under some shirt and silly old Astarion simply missed it. But the back of his mind knew better. He saw the hurt and rage in your eyes last time you saw one another. In that dim tavern stockroom. You had ran from him so fast he had barely a moment to think. By the time he got to camp he could smell you had been there, the one trait he is thankful for with this bond. Your scent trailed from his tent to yours. He hadn’t even thought of why you had been near his tent. Without a second thought he had paced near yours. It wasn’t until he gave up and went to his own tent that he thought more about it. Especially with your scent wrapped inside. That’s how he came to be here, rifling through his own things. Desperately hoping you didn’t see the one thing that carried his secret. Well, both of yours secret. His hand rakes back his perfectly sculpted hair as he tries to catch his breath. He had two options. Find and confront you, which seemed horrible. Or pack a bag and run for the high hills and never look back. As much as that option entices him he realizes he couldn’t even if he wanted to. One being that the tadpole would still be a problem and not one he believes he could fix on his own. Secondly it would mean leaving his mate. A dark gnarled pain twists through his spine at the thought. Even just imagining leaving you, never seeing you again woke some ancient horrible feeling that burrowed deep. Well, that left option one. Astarion stood, he tried and failed to calm his nerves. He was just about to open his tent flap when your hand poked through the opening. You lean into the tent and make eye contact with Astarion. The connection bursts through a feeling of utter euphoria. Both of your bodies flamed with the feeling of the entwined bond. Your skin tingles as if it begs to touch his. He feels the same as his teeth aching to plunge into your delectable neck and claim you as his own. To bite every surface you have exposed. As much as he wants to throw himself at you. To forget words and let his body do the talking, he resists. He was tired of that being his form of communication. Of sex and touch being the way people got to him. Of how they perceived him. He wanted.. more. He had not a single clue what “more” included. But he wanted to try. No matter how much it made his fight or flight trigger deep in his belly. His feet ready to take option two and start running. But instead he clears his throat. You reach behind you and hand the mating book to Astarion.

“I believe this belongs to you.” You start, timidly. Your eyes say it all. Your (e/c) eyes swimming with apprehension. You’re so visibly nervous it reminds Astarion of a tender little lamb. Frightful but curious. Anticipating with anxiety. He, the lion, wanting to gobble the lamb whole.

“I guess that means we need to talk.” He replies, not sure how to start this conversation. You just nod your head, Astarion opens his mouth ready to let whatever words spew from his mouth but you hold a finger up.

“Not here… maybe somewhere private?” You ask. He only nods, ready to follow you anywhere you take him. You hold out a hand to him and await his. He looks down at your open palm. How warm and inviting it is. The thought of even just holding your hand sparking hope in his chest. He knew better than to think this was anything but you letting him down. Of denying wanting to intermingle with someone with as much baggage as him. Someone as damaged as him. He wouldn’t blame you one bit. Really he would think it for the best. For you to break this bond and not go near him; or Cazador for that matter. But then you give him a small smile and usher with your hand once again. He tentatively puts his hand in yours. But maybe he could have just a little hope.

You lead him past your fellow companions' tents holding his hand. A few eyes watch you as you make your way towards the forest. Karlach meets your eyes and gives two big thumbs up which nearly makes you snort if it wasn’t for the anxiety bubbling in your chest. You lead Astarion to a clearing near the flowing river a bit aways from camp. You had grabbed a large plush blanket with throw pillows and laid them out before you had gotten Astarion. For once you wanted something to go right. For a special moment to be curated and simple. Not during a battle or on accident. Not in an abandoned temple or a psychics tent. But an evening of just you and him. Of twinkling stars and the silence of a night-lit blooming forest. However this is to go, whatever his decision may be, it would be between the two of you in a neutral setting. Somewhere you could lay your hearts open to one another. You sit down on the blanket and pat the spot next to him. Astarion sits next to you, craning his neck up to watch the stars alongside you. You both sit in silence for just a few minutes. Enjoying watching the stars in each others company. You wish this is all it could be. But you knew it had to be discussed.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask, shifting your gaze from the sky to Astarion. He meets your gaze and you see the flash of anxiety come and go from his eyes. You keep your face neutral as best you can.

“In the spirit of honesty, I don’t really know. I didn’t know what to think or what to do.” He replies with a sigh. He throws his arms behind him and leans back into them. He stares down at the ground as if far away in thought.

“As far as I knew mates were only for true vampires. A rarity for them, not many of them able trust one another to ever find their mate. So naturally being a spawn I thought I couldn’t have one. It simply wasn’t something I ever gave much thought to.”

“And now that you have one?” You prod further. You ache desperately to put a reassuring hand to him. To tell and show how much you support him at this moment. But you didn’t want to persuade him one way or another. Especially not guilt him by any means. He takes a long drag of a breath and continues on.

“I should be asking you this.” You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. He steals a look over to see your confused face.

“Is this, all of this, what you want?” He ushers between the both of you. You can’t help the little grin that reaches your face.

“Am I not obvious enough?” You tease. He grunts in response.

“I don’t just mean the ungodly good sex darling. I understand I come with my…. Complications. Complications that have been quite a thorn in your side.” He dances around the word vampire. Almost fearful to bring up something he knew was his largest flaw. What good does a vampire spawn do as a partner? He was your antithesis. The opposite of your life’s mission. Plus he would go on to live unless someone got fidgety with a stake. You, however, only had so much time. He highly doubted you would join in his immortality. You look lost in thought, tongue stuck out in thought.

“You’re not wrong. I hated all vampires. I didn’t discriminate between them, all of them monsters to me. My father had foolishly thought to gamble with one, to generate more wealth than we would ever need with a debt owed to Cazador. I never found out what he owed him, all I know is that it was grand enough for Cazador to personally come and slaughter my whole family. Besides me. He had said I wasn’t worth his efforts. So when I met you I naturally hated you.” Before Astarion could make a snarky comment you continued.

“But then I got to know you. To see you for more than what you are. That just because you are a vampire doesn’t mean you’re my enemy. If anything you have been quite the opposite.” You finish. You can tell a bit of tension eases from Astarions shoulders.

“So where do we go from here? 200 years and I’ve never known what more was. That there was a “more”. Forgive me if I am a bit out of touch.” Astarion replies. You nudge your shoulder with his.

“That’s fine old man, we can take it slow.” You tease. He frowns at your jest before a soft smile breaks across his pale face. The moonlight illuminates him giving him an ethereal glow.

“We. Us. I like the sound of that.” He replies.

“And no more running away when we need to talk! I might still stake you, you know.” You playfully slap his arm. He fakes being wounded giving you a pout.

“I make no promises, little killer.” He grins. It would be hard for him to break the habit. Preferring running and hiding. But he could try, for you. “Now may I suggest we consummate this mating?” He leans over towards you, hands resting on either side of your hips. His face just a breathe away from you. A slight chuckle falls from your lips.

“I believe we already have.” You tease. He gives you an award winning smile as he leans in closer. His lips brushing ever so slightly against yours.

“Couldn’t hurt to once more, or maybe a few more times.” His eyes dance from yours down to your lips and back up to you. You lick your dry lips as you watch him drink you in.

“Only a few?” You whisper your head barely beginning to turn into his. Half lidded eyes drawn to him.

“Maybe more than that.” His voice is barely there, red eyes blown wide with lust.

“I sincerely hope even more than that.” He grins as you say that.

“Now that, my dear, is something I can promise.” He says as he seals his lips over your own. You greet his lips in earnest. The kiss is sweet. Perfect. Enveloping the longing, the caring that flowed between your bond. Astarion walks his hands forward, pushing your body back onto the blanket. You follow his steps as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He hovers over you, losing himself in the kiss. Astarion had had many lovers but kisses with you were like no other. As if fireworks set off inside of him. Sparks of pure adoration going off within him. He nudged his way between your legs and you gladly let him. His leg swings upwards, pushing your other leg farther away. His groin comes in contact with your clothed center. Chest to chest, you groan into the kiss. One of his hands comes to glide down to your waist and grip your hip. The other holding himself up by the forearm. You trace down his neck before slipping your hands to his front. You trace his body slowly till you meet the hem of his shirt. You glide your hands under and place your hands flat against his abdomen. Though he feels always a bit cool you feel nothing but flames. You trace random patterns along his front. He deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth. His grip on his hip massaging the tender flesh there. Your hands go higher, nudging him to remove his shirt. He grins into your kiss as he leans back. He grabs his shirt and all but rips it off his body.

You stare awe-struck at him. The way his body is so beautifully sculpted as if he was a statue in a museum. Chiseled to perfection by the universe's best artist. His curly white hair disheveled, flowing with the slight breeze. His eyes hungry and trained on you, gauging your constant reaction. His hands find the ends of your shirt and he teasingly strokes it upwards in slow motions. You lean up and watch him take your shirt completely off. His hand reaches to your jaw as he leans in for another kiss. All the while you begin to loosen his trousers.

“So needy.” He teases into your lips between kisses. You smile and break the kiss. You lean up to and press your lips near his pointed ear.

“I can’t help that I want my mate.” You whisper to him. He shudders at your words. Mate. Gods the title sounded so good coming from you. He nibbles down your neck in earnest. Leaving love bites and hickeys in his trail. He ruts his hips into yours. His hands go all over. Touching every inch of exposed skin he can access. Kneading and caressing every part of you. Your hands wander his body as if touching it for the first time. Mapping out as if you could forget it. His kisses travel across your collarbone and to your sternum. One of his hands comes up to softly play with your breast. His hand kneading the soft skin. Occasionally his fingers come up to twist your nipple in a delcious rhythm. You grind against him in desperation for more touch. For more of him. Your fingers undo his pants and begin to tug as much as you can in your position. Astarions lips come up to your perked nipple and begin to suck. His eyes trained on yours to gauge your reaction. You throw your head back in ecstasy as a rough moan escapes your mouth. You make no show of covering any sounds, letting Astarion hear how good he makes you feel. His hand plays with your opposite breast as he sucks and bites at your sensitive bud. You writhe, desperation growing in you. The fire he builds inside you is quickly building to an inferno.

“Please Astarion.” You whine. He comes off of you with a wet pop before he stands. He makes quick work of his pants and immediately kneels and sweeps yours off just as fast. You lay bare to one another. Basking in the moonlit glow of each others naked bodies. Astarions eyes drink you in. A soft look on his face, adoration evident.

“You’re beautiful.” He tells you. You give a wide grin before you open your arms and usher him closer. He immediately follows and finds himself between your legs again. Though he brings himself much lower than before. His face resting just above your heat. You watch his actions and you can feel your breath catch. His eyes stare hard into yours as he brings his tongue out and licks. The flat of his tongue going from the bottom to the top of your slit. Your nails dig into the blanket as you arch your back. Astarion devours you like a man starved. Spreading your folds with his fingers to delve deeper. His tongue caresses your insides sending shivers up your spine. You cry out his name like a prayer.

“Ah- A- astarion!” You cry over and over again. It only spurs him on, chasing your ecstasy to get you to your high. His fingers join in his ministrations as he plunges two fingers into your wet opening. He curls ever so slightly as he motions a come hither inside of you. All the while his tongue laps and sucks at your clit. The stimulation is all too much, your whole body buzzing.

“Astarion- ahh- I’m gonna-“ you can barely moan out, your whole body too consumed in rapture.

“Cum my love, show me how good I make you feel.” He purrs against your skin. You reach your climax, cumming on his fingers. He works you through it, slowing his fingers' pace. He looks up at you to see your lust filled face. He leans upwards to catch you in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips. It sends a thrill through you.

“Astarion please- I need you.” You cry, arms grabbing at him senselessly. It’s as if you forgot all sense, Astarion the only thing that mattered. The only thing that exists.

“Oh with pleasure, my mate.” He gives you a devilish grin. You clench at his words. Mate. God you could listen to him call you that a thousand times and not get sick of it. He lines himself up with your entrance, using your slick to lube himself properly. He enters you slowly as you both moan wantonly in union. You wrap your hands around his neck to hold onto something. His arms hold himself up by the back of his forearms on either side of your head. Your bodies touch as he rocks into you. It’s intimate. Something very foreign for Astarion. Everything he had done was quickies. Hard and fast to reach a climax to be finished with. But you. Oh you he wanted to take his time with. To ruin you, completely and wholeheartedly. To mark you as his in every crevice and nook of your body. That his signature would be branded so deeply into your skin no other man would even think to come near you. You are his entirely. His hips speed up in rhythm. Skin slapping onto skin echoing with your shared moans.

“Say it again.” Astarion grunts out. His eyes find yours, begging. You swallow dryly. The bond is so strong in this position, in this eye contact. As if your body thrums with it. You would give him the world and stars if he asked for it at this moment. But you already knew what he wanted.

“Astarion, my mate.” You reply. He groans, biting his lower lip. His hips speed up, becoming sloppy. Your body is wrecked in pleasure.

“Again.” He growls.

“My mate. Mine.” You say once again. At that Astarions fangs plunge into your soft neck. Stars line your vision. You feel out of body. Lost in a sea of utter pleasure. You reach your finish together, Astarion spilling his seed inside of you. The bond ties tightly between you both. Unbreakable. You hug his body close as you come down from your high. He releases from your neck and moves to lay next to you. Your hands intertwine as you look up at the stars together. Both attempting to catch your breath.

“Well, what now darling?” He asks you between puffs of air. He looks over at you. Those crimson eyes full of adoration.

“Well. I guess we save the world.” You reply with a chuckle. He squeezes your hand.

“I think we are going to have a lot of fun together.”

Part 9 here

———-

I really hope you guys enjoyed the series! I will be focusing on one shots and requests from here on out! Also if you got the Twilight reference give me a holla!

#smut #reader insert #astarion #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bd3 #mates #balders gate 3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate iii

451 notes · View notes