#its my second multi chapter fic!!!!

[andorsdoll]

Homecoming ♡ Anakin Skywalker x Reader [♀]

Summary: Anakin comes home from battle wrecked and starving for you. You’re his wife, his anchor, his religion—and he fucks you like it.

Word Count: 1.6k || Warnings: nsfw. p*rn w/out plot?? idgaf!!, reader & anakin are married, the gloves stay on during sex, no foreplay, penetration (p-in-v), unprotected sex/creampie, some praise/dirty talk, aftercare, doting husband! anakin, etc.,

Author's Note: idk how to write smut, it's hard!!!!! (stop.. genuinely no pun intended >w< )

PS- for any of you guys following my multi chaptered anakin fic on ao3, i'm so sorry that i never ended up updating but i promise it is on its way, like i'm (re)writing the first chapter as we speak ok!!

PPS- if i have any james kelly/hayden christensen girlies, i posted a one shot here ;)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺ .✦.

He doesn’t knock but you hear the sound of boots trecking closer. Your breath catches in your throat the moment the door opens.

Anakin.

Finally.

You stand a little too fast and your knees almost buckle from the way relief crashes into you like a wave.

You hadn't seen him in weeks. Not since he was pulled to the opposite end of the galaxy, again, with nothing but scrambled comms and a handful of encrypted messages.

He’s sunburnt, his cloak covered in dust. His brow is creased but he looks at you like you’ve just saved his life.

“Hi,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out.

That alone nearly breaks him.

Anakin crosses the space between you without hesitation, wrapping you in his arms. He buries his face in your neck, letting out an exhale. Like he's been holding his breath the entire time he was gone.

“I thought I’d go insane,” he mumbles. “I thought if I had to wake up one more morning without you next to me—” He pulls back just far enough to kiss you.

And the second your lips touch—it all unravels.

His kisses are desperate, needy, open-mouthed. Like he’s both punishing and apologizing to you for having had to leave.

“I missed you, Ani." you stroke the back of his head, fingers tangling in dusty curls.

It's almost overwhelming now, being in his arms after weeks. You can't even get another sentence out before Anakin's mouth devours the words against your throat.

He bites and licks at the skin there like he needs proof you’re real. Then he lifts you with both arms, one still gloved, possessive and loving on your thighs, walking you backward through the apartment without looking.

When he finally places you onto the bed, he lays you down like he's been waiting forever for this exact moment.

His forehead rests against yours while his hands roam, sliding beneath your top. Thumbs grazing your nipples until you gasp and whimper into his mouth.

“I dreamed about this,” he says. “Every night. I was afraid I'd forget your touch. Afraid I’d forget how it feels to be inside of you.”

You whimper, hips pressing forward instinctively. That alone makes him groan like you’re torturing him.

“I need you,” he says suddenly, dragging his mouth across your collarbone, leaving trails of blooming bruises. “I can’t wait, baby. I need you.” he whines, deprived and desperate.

“Take me,” you plead as you grind against him.

He undresses the both of you like a man possessed. Belt clattering to the floor, robes kicked aside, cock flushed, thick, and leaking at the tip as he shoves his pants down just enough.

He doesn’t waste time teasing, just pushes in deep with a sudden thrust. His head falls into your shoulder as he groans and just stays buried inside you, murmuring your name like it's holy.

Like loving you is the only thing he's ever needed and he's on his knees for it, buried in you like it's salvation.

Your legs are trembling from how full you feel when he says, "You’re clenching like you missed this. Missed me. Is that it, sweet girl?"

You nod against him, breath caught, arms wrapped around his shoulders like you never want to let go.

And then he starts to move.

It's really slow at first, mostly because he's making sure to reach as deep as possible when he rolls his hips forward. Like he wants to fuck your soul, not just your body. “So pretty like this… so wet for me… fuck, baby…”

He laces his fingers with yours, pinning both of your wrists above your head as he moves inside you with aching rhythm, eyes locked to yours.

He drives into you with ruthless precision, your dripping pussy clenching around him. The sounds between your bodies are obscene and wet, your legs shake while your mouth falls open.

Babbling incoherently now, you're barely able to take it. And he absolutely loves it.

Seeing you flushed and undone under him, Anakin moans, slowing his thrusts just long enough to lean down. His gloved fingers cradling your jaw while his eyes drink you in.

“Stars,” he whispers, voice hoarse, almost gone. “Look at you.”

A broken sound escapes your throat again as your head falls back, eyes fluttering. Your body’s too full, too sensitive.

You feel destroyed, wrecked, and you know he can see it. He brushes your cheek and the corner of your lips with his fingertips, gentle in a way that makes your chest ache.

Because even now, even like this, Anakin is still so tender with you. His expression is molten and dark with hunger. Yet, it's so soft and loving, as if he can’t decide whether to ruin you completely or stay like this forever, just watching you fall apart for him.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” he pants, voice ragged. “Gonna fill you up. Will you let me?” He asks. But it's not really a question at this point, more like a promise.

All you can do is moan, arching your hips up to meet him, mouth still parted in gutteral cries. You come hard, clenching around him. He kisses you through it, swallowing your cries as he keeps fucking into you, desperate to reach his own release.

“Say it,” he breathes into you, hoarse and pleading. “Say you’re mine. Say you missed me.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, fingernails dragging down his back. “Always, Anakin. I’m yours, I miss—”

He slams into you, cutting off the words, rhythm starting to falter. You feel it as his thrusts grow uneven and erratic and he's cursing under his breath. His face contorts and he groans through clenched teeth as he finally comes, thick and hot inside of you.

But he doesn’t stop pounding until he’s completely spent, until it’s leaking out around him.

━━━━⊱︎⊰━━━━

Afterwards, there's a long moment where neither of you move. Just the sound of your breaths echoing throughout the apartment. Shaky, uneven, like you’ve both been through something you barely survived.

His weight eases over you while your legs remain lazily draped around his waist. He’s still inside you, softening slowly. His breath hot and shallow against your throat.

The galaxy feels blurred at the edges, dazed and dreamlike.

Your thighs tremble with every little shift in movement. Your chest rises and falls unevenly as you blink up at the ceiling, lips starting to tremble.

It hits you then, he's really home.

Anakin senses it, the shift in your breath, the way your lip starts to wobble. So he lifts himself just enough to look down at you. There's something soft in his gaze—like he knows exactly what you’re feeling.

“Oh, sweet girl…” he whispers before leaning in to kiss your cheek, your eyelids, your nose. Your eyes flutter shut from the sensation and he gingerly brushes your hair back.

His voice is sweet and doting now, “I missed you so much. I don’t think I can leave you ever again.”

You smile. Mostly because you know he has to leave again soon. Of course you do. He’s bound by duty—by the war, the cause, the robes he never fully gets to take off.

But right now, none of that matters.

Not with the way he’s holding you while his come is still warm inside you. Not with his mouth trailing over your collarbone like he’s relearning the shape of you.

He’s here.

And he’s yours.

And that’s enough, for now.

“C-Can’t feel my legs,” you mumble.

He grins.

Actually grins. Boyish, flushed and handsome.

It's then in his smile that a flicker of a memory comes back to you. The first time you ever met him, both of you years younger, standing awkwardly in the Temple courtyard. He’d smiled at you then like this too—cocky, sun-warm, all dimples and promise.

“Good,” he says proudly.

You shove at him half-heartedly, and he chuckles again before slowly, carefully pulling out. You whimper when your hips twitch at the sudden emptiness and soreness. He gently hushes you.

“I know, I know,” he coos. “You’re sensitive. It’s okay. I’ve got you, baby.”

You’re so fucked out you can’t move. So, he moves for you. He kisses your stomach, your thighs, your knees.

Then he disappears from the bed, rummaging around for a moment before returning to clean you up. He runs the damp fabric between your legs with maddening care, cooing every time you flinch or whine.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Still dripping for me.”

“Anakin!” your cheeks flush as you throw your arm over your eyes.

“What?” he says innocently, pressing a kiss to your hip. “Just admiring my beautiful wife. All full and spent and pretty… Do you want me to run you a bath? Or should I tuck you in? Did you eat already?”

Your mouth opens to answer but he’s already climbing back onto the bed, settling behind you, pulling you into his lap. Your legs go limp over his thighs. “Ani, you're not serious—”

“Oh, I’m serious,” he says, voice low and teasing now. “I’ve got you exactly where I want you. Might keep you like this forever.”

You lean into him, humming as your head falls back on his shoulder. “You're ridiculous.”

Anakin places a kiss on the top of your head as he massages your hips slowly. "I'm in love." he responds casually, like it's the most obvious thing in the galaxy.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Exhausted, Papyrus fell on his knees in the dust. It was covering everything in the room, from the floor to the ceiling. The main door was gone, like most of the windows. Thankfully, no monster tried to enter the balcony, too high. Papyrus crawled to pick up the door, still in one piece by some miracle, and put it in its place. The hinges were gone with a part of the wall, but he forced it to hold by nailing it with some planks that held the windows closed and was now on the floor.

He picked up his phone, hidden deep in his armor. His hands were still shaking with the adrenaline. Sans left about twenty messages, asking if he was fine, then warning him Frisk was gone, then asking him again if he was alright, more and more distressed as the hours went by.

Papyrus simply sent: "Alive. Frisk here." before walking to the kitchen to make sure the child was fine. Several bullets ricocheted against the closet door, but it faced the brunt efficiently. He cleared the chairs out of the way and opened the door, maybe too brutally.

Frisk screamed out of terror and threw themselves in the back of the cabinet. They curled up on themselves, hands on the head, sobbing uncontrollably. They were shaking as well.

Papyrus flinched. He saw himself at five years old, in the same position, as Sans was screaming and fighting for their lives in the living room. This was not a world to grow up. No child should ever be born in this hellish place. Bitter, he felt his soul squeezed painfully. It was his fault. He should have brought the child back to the Ruins. Frisk shouldn't have assisted to any of this.

The skeleton kneeled at their level. He never had been really talented to comfort people.

"Frisk? It's over, they're gone. You can come out."

He leaned a hand towards the human. Frisk kicked it away and tried to get as far as they could from him in the closet. Papyrus tried to stay neutral, but his face betrayed for a few seconds how much it hurt him. He didn't want Frisk to be scared of him. Not after everything they went through to protect them.

The skeleton looked around for a second and noticed a hole in the closet door. Small, but enough for a child to witness everything that happened outside. Frisk saw him slaughter attackers and end monsters on the floor without mercy. Papyrus felt guilty. He gave the child some space and sat in front of the closet, unsure what to do.

No Weakness, Chapter 3.

_______________________________________

Hello, hello!

I commissioned this masterpiece to @seirindono, a French (yeah, team French!) illustrator who works on a multi AU universe called The Missing Scarf, which is a banger. Really cool comic with lots of great characters that you really want to read. Go read it!

I wasn't sure on which fic I wanted a drawing at first, but since we already got one for Horrortale: Rotten Apple (thanks again Zeragii, love you), why not No Weakness?

It's a post-pacific Underfell fic where instead of breaking the Barrier, Sans refused Frisk to fight Asgore and brought them back in safety to Toriel. Now Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Toriel and Sans are hiding the child away, trying not to get killed.

The story however is about Undyne and Papyrus' friendship. After Papyrus surprises Undyne kissing Asgore, he is promoted to general of the Royal Guard. Except Papyrus knows something is really wrong here, since that role was obviously supposed to Undyne's. But the more he tries to understand, the more people try to dissuade him from learning more. All the hints lead to Asgore, but how to reach the monarch without getting himself killed, and by extension, those he cares the most about? Between his duty and his friendship, Papyrus will have to make a choice.

I asked for one of my favorite parts ever, which is the moment Frisk realizes how things really work in Underfell, after witnessing Papyrus committing carnage right after he got promoted to General. It's tradition :D

Anyway, if you want to read the story, it's right here. I'm on summer break right now, but new chapters are coming soon!

Thanks again to Seirindono for their amazing work, I love it so much <3 Really great artist, don't hesitate to commission them! They're really nice and pays great attention to details. It was really cool collaborating with you <3

Go send them some love!

[caramelloss]

"you are my witch"

lilia calderu x reader • pure smut • 3.2k w/c

summary: you've been friends with lilia calderu for years. drunken from the poison of wine, you confess your love for the woman. although reluctant to admit her feelings, because she harbors a secret you don't know, you learn that lilia feels the same way. years of yearning come to an end, and you find yourself falling into your desires, unable to control what has been kept away for so long.

taglist: @setsuna1415 @honeypiperpizza123 @valarmorghuli @allseingeye @im-a-carnivorous-plant @worstendingever @ramblininsomnia @wandamaximoff-simp @mrsines @onlyv4use @kenzie-floops @screamsin-gay @numenamortenia @valkyrierain @babythere @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @astrophilliaxx @giona45-5 @evilregal2002 @crescendoofstars @yourbasicqueerie @primalnight @darkangelchronicles @sapphic-girlss @thegoddamnfeels @doctormaviatorres @i-hate-most-insects @brisgayshit97 @iheartmilfzzsposts @redrouge7e7as @novavala @finnza @wandringlightsaber @romanoffsho @kingpreciouswrld @emilyprentitss @elobv10 @wandasreallover @kaypastore38 @thegayassbit-ch @marinalunaestrella @gryffindor-forlife @lorrainemylove @anais-casablanca @girlwithissuesworld @ofgoldandbraid @justgaygirlthings @beachhausu @deathly777 @confuseuniverse @eepyvampy @whyilovewomen @r-3-becca @roksana6448 @bugcolector @etw12 @heartsfromelle @zyguard118 @thelesbianapollokid4 @opossum-in-disguise @snoopyaah @amberwhale @marisacoulterswife @ionlylikefictionalpeople @derry-n @evie-101 @ganyulover123

author's note: so first i'd like to just THANK all of you for blowing up my post asking for who'd like to be tagged, because the taglist isn't even done, i can't fit them all in the blog. also, i tagged you if you liked or reblogged the tag ask post, because i bolded i would tag those who liked or reblogged. second; i'm sorry this isn't a longer fic. it was originally planned to be, but i don't want to use my idea i came up with in a one chapter fic, i'd like it to be used in a longer more meaningful one. i really hope you enjoy this. if you have any positive, negative, or general feedback, please let me know! i want to become the best author i can be for you guys. also, i'd love to receive any asks for fanfiction or one shots! i'm currently focused on my big multi character x reader fic, but im 100% open to and willing to write for your requests.

content includes: fingering, oral stimulation, biting, praise, hair pulling, pet name usage

you noticed the difference in her eyes like it was bolded in bright red ink. her smile fell, like an angel to descend from heaven. 'this is it' you thought, 'she’ll hate me.' you turned away in shame, your heart dropped. words flooded out, stupid, careless words. "i love you, lilia." 

you couldn't bear to look, you feared the disagreement would show on her face. your body tenses, and you scrunch the bridge of your nose with your fingers. you expect her to tell you to get out, or leave.. but you hear nothing. 

but you feel, oh, you feel. 

you feel her behind you, closer than when you had muttered those stupid, damning words. her fingers gently traced your neck, and you closed your eyes, the yearning in your soul up to its brink of expression. each breath you take is shaky, is heavy. you tilt your head aside, desperate to feel her warmth on your skin forever. 

you open your eyes when you feel her breath on your neck. she must've noticed your body's reaction, because she paused, and remained still. lilia traces her fingers down your body, to your hips. she stops here, her lips close to your ears, as her body presses into your back. 

you lean into her, your head slightly leaning back, at the pure and utter pleasure you feel being so close to her. her lips part, and with such composure, yet so little solidity, she delivers a line that would come to send shivers down your spine. "i have loved you since i saw you the first time, long ago. i am consumed and rattled by you at every waking second.." her hands pull you in, and you hum at the gesture. your eyes are closed, not because you hate this, or don't want to be there, but because the way you long for her in this moment now is too painful for you to bear. a lump forms in your throat when you feel her wet cheek graze your neck. she was in tears, and you needed to console her; but how? how should you console her now? you did not have much time to think. her lips, warm, soft, and gentle, were on your neck. the kiss she blessed your skin with felt like one that existed prior to the world, and forever past the present. it was torture, it was devastation, when she pulled away. it hurt, it was brutal.. so brutal, your lips parted, and you gasped quietly. your hand reached back for her head, and you enveloped your fingers in the curly, silver locks of her hair. you held her head close to yours, as her thumbs rubbed gently upon your hips. her voice broke as she completed her confession, and your heart broke with it; you'd do anything to protect her, to keep her from harm. "i'm a witch, y/n.. how could you ever love a witch?" 

your eyes opened, and you stopped breathing, for just a moment. you were sure you'd heard wrong. with a furrowed brow, and a worrisome expression, you broke away from her touch, from her hold. you turned to her, and your head tilted to the side, as tears began to form in your waterline. the sight of her, so weak, so doubtful of herself, so ashamed.. your heart shattered like a broken mirror. 

her face was lined with streaks of wet. she had cried for this, she suffered for it. she couldn't even look at you, her eyes were avert. 

your hands raced to cup her cheeks, and you gently wipe away her tears. her lips part, in astonishment, followed by her eyes meeting your gaze. finally, you saw those beautiful eyes again. your heart skipped a thousand beats at the sight of those irises. you smile, and your face softens. "lilia.." you whisper, your forehead pressed against hers now, "i've loved you since the sun rose opposite the moon. i've chased you in all of my wildest dreams. i've loved you in every moment and i would not stop because of what you are or are not." at your notation, her lips fold into a smile. she grabs your wrists softly, holding them. once more you spoke, "you are my witch, my little piece of divinity. you are mine, and my heart is yours." you watch as her eyes move from your eyes to your lips, and you wish for nothing but her to kiss you. 

after all these years, of being her "friend", you have never wanted anything more than for her to kiss you. it's like an insatiable hunger you cannot destroy. 

lilia bites her lip, and she grabs your chin with her pointer finger and her thumb. you start to breath heavy, and your heart begins to race. she brings your face to hers, so close that your lips graze against one another’s. you ache for her, you long for her. you need to taste her, to merge your body, your soul, your heart, with hers. you need her to kiss you. 

and she does. her lips mesh with yours in perfect harmony, like the melody of heaven’s sea. your mind is adrift, clouded. you cannot form a thought, you do not desire to form a thought. her unaccompanied hand caresses the small of your back, and you pull her closer with the hands you hold on her face. 

she slips her tongue along your bottom lip, and you moan softly into the kiss. her grip on your chin releases, and she holds your jaw instead. she guides you through the long, heart-felt kisses. her lips control your body, your mind. 

warmth builds between your thighs, and your head is still covered by nothing but a blanket of emptiness. lilia is the first to pull away, her lack of oxygen in her lungs being the culprit. you curse the living necessity of air. 

you yourself breathe heavy, panting almost. lilia’s lipstick is smudged, and you smirk at the notion that you've just kissed this marvel of a woman. she notices your cocky smile, and a single eyebrow lifts. she now wore a smirk herself. 

“you're looking at me like you've just seen me naked, y/n.” you chuckle when she says this. “while i wouldn't be opposed to that, i'm just a little satisfied with the fact that in the midst of kissing me, you forgot about your lipstick.”  

her smirk faded and her lips parted again, she pop looked offended, but you could tell it was just her beautiful sense of sarcasm. 

“fix it for me?” she asked this with a lower tone and a wink, and you felt your core throb at the sound of her voice. she wanted you to kiss her again. 

you ran your tongue across your bottom lip, and you couldn't help your smile. her hands guided your face close, and you pushed a curl behind her ear. she grew desperate, unable to wait. her lips caught yours, and you shut your eyes at the contact. in your head you pictured her eyes, beautiful and brown, like the rock embedded and shaded on the side of a mountain. your grip on her hair tightened as she pushed you back softly, making sure not to break the kiss. her lips were soft, so soft it felt like the comfort a pillow brings in the hour of sleep. you moan as your lower back makes contact with her counter, and your head leans back, which breaks the embrace. 

the wetness between your thighs grows, and you figure your underwear must be utterly ruined. lilia's fingers stroked your hair, and she shook her head slightly, a whisper following shortly. "let me taste you.. every inch of you.." you bite your lip, and hold her gaze, nodding hesitantly; even though you don't feel hesitant on your answer at all. her smirk returns, and her hands descend, down from your hair to your neck. she drags them further down, past your shoulders. she stops at where the unbuttoned cardigan opens, pushing the material off of your arms and body. her warmth intoxicates you when her skin brushes against yours. she plants hot kisses on your upper arms, which are exposed because of the camisole top you wore. 

her hands found the straps to your shirt, and she pulled them down slowly, kissing the empty place they used to cover. you tense, and your eyes shut as your lips purse together while you try to conceal the soft hum of pleasure you make.

lilia's fingers pull away the top, leaving you completely naked and exposed from your waist up. she smiles at the sight, her hands cupping your breasts. you feel the slick between your legs, it seems the inner part of your thighs had gotten soaked by extension.

her thumbs grazed over your nipples, and the sensation was enough to drive you wild. you pulled her head into the curve of your neck, your lips parted as soft moans escaped. she chuckles and her lips start to kiss your neck. 

your knees go weak, simply from the ecstasy her lips brings you. her thumbs lose the feel of your sensitive buds, and she begins to creep down your throat. she leaves sloppy kisses down your collarbone, and down to your nipples. her eyes close as she takes one into her mouth, suckling on the sweet spot. your eyes fall back, and you inhale, biting down onto your lip to stop yourself from being loud. her fingers play with your lone nipple, and you feel as though you will not be able to take much more of this before becoming pathetic for her. 

the witch releases your areola from her mouth and takes in the other, her tongue lapping around the bundle of nerves. her hands trace the curves of your body. they pause when she's reached your hips, and she digs her nails into your skin. the pain blends with the pleasure beautifully, and it's as if they are interchangeable. 

you breathe heavily, your stomach twitching when she starts to drag her lips down your stomach. your pussy was so wet that she could smell the scent of arousal from your waistline. her fingers pulled up the black skirt you wore, and it revealed your soaked nude panties. she chuckled, looking up at you with eyes that were darkened and overwhelmed with lust. she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, which made you roll your eyes. 

“you're so wet, darling. i could just devour you.” you gently pull her hair, forcing her head back a little. she smirks, and you pout. “please, i need you” you say, pleading for her tongue, for her fingers, for her to be the one to shape you into a mess of a woman. 

she winks, bringing her mouth to your inner thigh. she leaves kisses along your skin, and it seems as though she’s teasing you. her eyes stay locked onto yours with each touch of her lips, she wants to see your face as she tortures you.

your hands release her hair, and grab onto the counter behind you, your nails scratch the surface with each new touch. her eyes look so dark, and it turns you on even more. 

but your view of them is gone as she bites into your other thigh. her teeth are sharp, and your jaw drops, you whimper. her teeth release, and she kisses the bite mark. you open your eyes to see it, to see the mark she had left. it was dark red, and your expression changed, you felt your core throb uncontrollably, and you grabbed her head by her hair, guiding her to your cunt. your eyes pleaded with her. 

lilia opened her mouth and licked the wet slick on your panties, all while looking you dead in the eyes. the touch was faint, but it was all your body needed to jerk up. it was so cruel, the way she left you needy and desperate for her. you couldn't think beyond her tongue on your clit, or her fingers buried in your warm folds. 

she bit the material of your under garment, pulling it slowly down your legs. her eyes were stolen away by the sight of you completely naked and in front of her, soaked, ruined. you were such a slut for her. you wonder if she would tease you about how soiled you got for her later down the line. 

the witch sighed, and her lips kissed the very inside of your thighs, right beside where you writhed for her. you thought you might faint. 

using your hand, you rubbed her cheek, shaking your head at the sight of her, down on her knees, ready to please you.  

she turned her face, kissing your gentle fingers. you smiled, and you took a deep breath as she brought her face as close as possible to your core. her eyes were focused on your face, you could tell she wanted to watch your face as she ate you out. so typical of her. 

her face buried between your legs, her tongue circling your clit. your hands shot behind you to the counter once more, desperate to hold yourself up. your eyes closed, and your back arched. the moan that echoed through the room was inevitable. she took her time, finding the nerves that were more sensitive and paying more attention to them. you thought she must've found you stupid to be so wet and needy for her. 

her tongue sped up, and she took your clit into her mouth, suckling the bud. you couldn't control the way your hips bucked, or the way your knees fell wobbly and weak. her hands grabbed your hips to stabilize her, and she pulled her mouth away in a flash. 

you were worrisome, you thought maybe you'd messed up, or maybe she'd realized she didn't want you like this. it was almost heartbreaking to feel her pull away. 

she had never stopped looking at you, though. you of course couldn't tell because your eyes had closed before out of the extremity of what you were feeling. 

she looked serious, determined, but her eyes were still as dark as before. you blush at the sight of her face covered in your taste, your slick. her mouth opened, and you heard every word with such a heavy impact. “do not close your eyes again. i want to see your eyes, your face, at every moment. do you understand?”

your heart starts to race again, there was just something so inexplicable about the way her words made you feel. you nod your head, scared that if you spoke your words would be jumbled. she didn't accept it though, her voice changed, from demanding to mischievous. “you understand..? what do you understand, dear? how does it make you feel..? tell me how i make you feel.” 

you bite your lip, looking up at the ceiling. maybe you were throwing up a prayer that you wouldn't mess up, or maybe you were just trying to prepare yourself for what she wanted from you. her right hand slipped from your hip, and you didn't notice, so fixated on her request. you went to start speaking, but as you did, you felt her fingers inside of you. 

your head leaned back, and you closed your eyes. a hushed “fuck!”, was followed by a loud humming. she smirked, “what did i say about closing your eyes, baby?” 

you forced them open, forced them to lock their gaze down onto her own. you wanted to make her happy. you needed to please her just as badly as you needed her to make you cum. 

“i'm sorry, darling—” as you began again, her fingers started to pump inside of your pussy, and your mouth lay agape. she didn't stop, even as you took a moment to continue, and you took a deep breath. 

“you want me to look— oh, fuck.. god.” it was like she went faster with each word you spoke. you took note of her devilish grin, thinking that you'd someday get your revenge. “you want me to look at you, you want to see me when— shit!” your body flinches as she curls her digits inside you, her speed still gradually increasing. “come on, princess, you're doing so good” she whispered this against your clit, right before sucking it into her mouth again. 

you bit your lip and your hands pulled her by the hair, just giving you something to hold onto. “when i cum for you, when i'm just a puddle for you.. you want to see me when i take your fingers!” 

the words came out shaky, spaced between your moans and whimpers. her fingers started to go as fast as they could, and lilia lapped her tongue around your wet clit, stimulating every single part of your cunt. she was still looking at you. you held her gaze as you started to tremble, your body shaking as it came to the brink of an orgasm. 

you finished your thought, giving her what she asked of you. “it makes me feel like abandoning everything for you, to have you like this, every second, every moment.”

her eyes closed, and you watched her remain between your thighs. your body hit a climax, and your hips bucked up, your back arching. you yelled for her, her name. your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you bit your lip to muffle any further sounds as she fucked you through your orgasm. 

when you had came, your white fluid casing over her fingers, she pulled her mouth away from your clitoris. 

you, with your head still fuzzy, had managed to pull her back up to you by her hair. her lips were so wet because of you. you immediately pull her in to kiss you, tasting yourself on her tongue and lips. she pulled away, breaking the contact. her teeth captured your bottom lip and you sighed when she pulled it back. 

lilia’s lips started kissing your neck, and she brought them to your ear, whispering hushedly, “clean your pretty little mess, my love.” 

you whimper, and you open your lips, as she slips her two cum-covered fingers inside of your mouth. you suck off your fluid, and the growing wetness between your legs returns.

the older witch laughs, kissing your neck again. her lips find yours once more, and she kisses you like there is no other action in this world. her tongue invades your mouth, as she tastes the sweetness that remains. 

[yallthemwitches]

do you have any favorite smut recs to give?

YES!!

Anything from @scriibble-fics! They write the sexiest James EVER. period. Pack it in everyone. Unfortunately, most of their work is unfinished but it is absolutely still worth the read.

A few of my favs:

Eighteen Again: Second Chances order jily AU (ps. some of the chapters never made it to ao3 from ff.net!)

Bought: Death eater/ Dark marauders AU (note: this one can be a bit racy for people due to its topic of sex work BUT it has the sexiest James I have ever EVER read so...just read at your own risk?)

Magic: Canon, classic Jily chronicalling smut milestones

2. Anything by @missgryffin!!! I don't know what it is but whenever they write about James having a hard-on/ aroused I'm like...sweating.

For the Hope of it all: Summer Jily ft. one bed trope

Desiderium: Canon slugclub oneshot

Love for the Summer: Another summertime canon jily!

3. Golden Whispers by Claudiawrites: jealous! Canon Complaint Jily

4. Earthquake Drills by Elfkdetective: canon jily but I love that this fic goes there with more interesting smut situations as it goes along.

5. Ignite by Theresthesnitch: Another canon jily multi-fic but it also gets kinkier as it goes along.

Extra jilypad 😈

Mistaken by Theresthesnitch: This one is more of a wolfstar/jily foursome situation which was never really my thing until this fic...then it was REALLY my thing.

Best Friends Only by julestales: A classic "jily asks sirius to join them" type fic but I love the build up and the "logistics" (for lack of better term) that leads up to the smut.

Hope this will keep you satiated for a bit ;)

[thebigbiwolf]

Spittle - Part 1/2

Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.

Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.

This is what happens when you eat half the bar.

Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, succubus magic, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk), more tags will be added later.

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Dubcon (if you squint), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence

Read on AO3: Here

A/N: Remember the dead spider? I remember the dead spider. Anyways, the reception I've been getting on Starvin', Darlin' has me wanting to thank everyone with a one-shot. This got away from me so I went ahead and split it into two parts.

I've never written anything like this and it was significantly more difficult than a multi-chapter fic. I hope everything comes across the way its supposed to! And a huge thank you to my beta @imaginarydromedary for...you know... encouraging me to post this, despite everything.

From what you could tell, there wasn’t much to the apothecary. 

As you push open the dilapidated doors, your first thought is to search for supplies - anything that could help if things went south on your way to the goblin camp. 

Dried herbs hang from the rafters beneath a thin veil of cobwebs, filling your lungs with a pungent clash of scents. Empty bottles lined the shelves along the wall, caked in several months worth of dust. Large chunks of the building were missing where stone met splintered wood, some areas almost entirely overtaken by greenery.

You step over broken shards of pottery, scanning over the floor and countertops for something - anything that may be of use, but to your disappointment, it seems like the shop was entirely ransacked long before your arrival.

You sigh deeply, knowing you’ll likely never hear the end of this from your companions. It was your idea to search the village. You were the one who suggested taking out the goblin scouts, exerting everyones’ energy, and now you’re afraid you’ll have very little to show for it.

You catch a glint of gold, an object reflecting the sun's rays beneath a pile of rubble. You kneel down to brush away the surrounding debris, thankful for even the smallest promise of coin before your hands catch on… some sort of serrated edge?

You pull at it, and it easily comes loose. It's a thin, rectangular block, just barely larger than the length of your hand. You wipe away some of the dirt with your sleeve, revealing an intricately designed foil wrapping underneath.

As you speculate what this might be, you hear footsteps approaching from behind, light and familiar. You turn to face the elf with a smirk.

“You’re supposed to be the stealthy one.” You chide at him, playfully, “Or has my blood put a little skip in your step?”

Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been here the entire time, watching you fumble around in the dirt.” 

Crimson eyes study you, then the object you’re holding. He places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side with a raised brow. “Is that what you’ve dragged us all the way here for?”

“First of all,” you waggle a finger at him, “You’re especially grumpy when you’re tired. I’ll have to make a note to prioritize your beauty rest. Second, I haven’t finished looking around, but check this out.”

You hand the bar to him as you stand. The cool skin of his fingers brush against your own, and you’re irritated with the way your heart skips at the brief contact. Why did the one man you found attractive in your camp have to be such a primadonna? And such a huge pain in the ass? 

Astarion’s eyes scan over the textured paper with suspicion, angling it towards the light to get a better look. The golden wrapping is stamped with an image of red lips On the back, letters twist and curve in a language you don't recognize, following a single circular pattern where they meet in the center. You’ve never seen anything like this, neither in your travels, nor within the city walls of Baldur’s Gate.

“Where did you find this?” 

You shrug, then point to the pile next to you. “It was buried right there.” 

He silently stares at the foil, mouth pursed, until your patience begins to wear thin.

“Well, can you read it or not?”

His nose scrunches. “Of course I can’t read it. It’s written in Infernal.”

That’s… odd. Why would an ordinary apothecary sell goods made by devils? Or, worse, for devils. Unless, of course, it was some sort of marketing trick, perhaps a play on the phrase ‘sinfully sweet’, or some other cringeworthy branding.

You take it back, turning it over in your hands before tearing at the corner of the wrapping. It's sectioned into dark, rich squares, and smells indisputably like chocolate.

“It looks like candy.”

“An excellent observation.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, can we go? We’ve spent more than enough time here already.”

You roll your eyes and stuff it into your bag, setting off for camp, vampire in tow.

–

During dinner, you decide not to tell the others about what you found, knowing Astarion’s likely already forgotten the event. You set down your empty plate, thanking Gale for tonight’s meal. He smiles at you and bids you goodnight as you excuse yourself to your tent. 

You pick up your rucksack, thinking fondly of the dessert that awaits you inside. Having lived at the beck and call of your companions for weeks on end, you can’t help but smile at the idea of selfishly indulging in a small treat like this.

You tear open the rest of the wrapping and snap off one of the squares, immediately popping one into your mouth. It melts - buttery in texture, with a smokey, slightly bitter flavor. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten something so rich. Maybe weeks of the same rations have made you easier to impress, but this felt especially notable.

As you break off a second piece, a strange tingling sensation begins to spread across your lips - a pleasant buzzing that starts at your neck and spreads down through your chest. 

Strange, but not entirely unwelcome. You’ve heard of such inebriating chocolates, ones laced with alcohol or species of flowers that numb one’s senses for a short while. All harmless, of course, and you don’t have watch tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself. If worst comes to worst, Shadowheart is just outside with an assortment of spells and potions. Always better to ask for forgiveness.

It only takes you minutes to finish half the bar. You set the rest next to your bedroll for later and turn to blow out your candles, enjoying the lingering physical effects of the chocolate. Your skin feels flushed and delightfully warm as you settle down for the night.

When sleep finally takes you, it's dreamless, at first. Your consciousness sways, floating in an empty abyss, until colors begin to bleed onto the blank canvas of your mind.

A trickle of red morphs into the shape of familiar eyes, piercing you with their intensity..

Droplets of white spatter over a dark background, diffusing, blending into whisps. They curl and twist before settling into soft, coiffed fibers. 

Hair , you recognize immediately, his hair . His eyes.

Astarion. 

His image fully takes form, as if it had been waiting for you to make the connection before entirely revealing itself. 

He reaches out and seizes you, grabbing painfully at your hips as you crash into his body, hands exploring you - tight, possessive, squeezing at every inch of exposed skin before settling on the curve of your ass. He digs into your flesh with the blunt edge of his nails.

His lips press hot, wet kisses to your throat, mouthing just below the ear, before dragging his tongue along your nape and sucking, hard . You whine at the pressure, eliciting a grin from the elf, so characteristically pleased with the pathetic little noise he’s managed to pull from you.

“You thought sleeping would allow you to escape this - to escape me , unscathed?” He growls against your skin, his voice almost unrecognizable - as if it’s layered beneath a lighter, somehow more arrogant, feminine one.

“No, no, no. Wake up, darling. You’re in for a very long night.”

–

You startle awake, gasping - loud, labored breaths struggling to make use of the unbearably thin air. The edges of your tent bleed in and out of focus, spinning at a nauseating pace as you attempt to recollect yourself.

You wipe at the sweat collecting on your brow, the muscles of your arm heavy and aching, and find that your skin is absolutely drenched. 

Hot. Why is everything so hot? 

It's as if you're being cooked alive beneath your blankets, strangled beneath the furs. You throw them off; normally soft to the touch, the fibers now only worsen the prickling beneath your skin.

Could this be some sort of illness? A fever? 

No, this doesn’t make sense. Everything feels off. 

Fleeting thoughts of Astarion cross your mind - quick flashes of a sinful smile that was not his own.

It didn’t quite match the one you’d silently come to admire, and now that you think of it, the hunger in his gaze was much too intense for the reserved elf. 

His hands, his mouth, the way he touched you -

Your abdomen cramps, bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt.

A stabbing, visceral pain; a knife plunging into your organs. It overwhelms you, forces your body to curl into itself. You hold your pelvis, grunting, and grasp at your sheets. Tears sting the corner of your eyes.

This is - well, you have no idea what this is. 

You can’t think past the pounding in your head, the throbbing in your midsection. You're compulsively twisting, writhing, begging the gods for some sort of reprieve, but it's then when you make the most mortifying discovery of the night.

You’re soaked .

N ot just your smallclothes, which may have been understandable given your strange dreams, but through your damned pants. Not even the sheets were spared. 

“What  in the hells…?” 

You run your fingers over yourself, only intending to confirm the horrifying reality of your situation - that this is not, in fact, some sick, perverted nightmare, but the lightest touch sets off every nerve. 

You wail at the sensation: one massive wave of bliss giving way to several small jolts of pain. 

Pleasure to the point of agony.

The shock of the sudden orgasm courses from your sex through every limb, clenching and releasing pitiful, warm slick. It leaks freely out of you into your already thoroughly ruined underwear. 

Your heart pounds. You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, toes curled, limbs twitching, waiting for your body to settle. 

After a minute or so, your breathing evens, and the thick haze surrounding your thoughts begins to lift just slightly, along with the suffocating heat. 

But something within you knows this isn’t the end - knows this isn’t enough . A desperation lurks beneath the surface that you can’t quite name. It screams at you. You need more.

‘Aw…’ A familiar, feminine voice prods at your mind. You quickly recognize her, the woman from your dreams who wore Astarion’s image.  

‘All alone, are we? Empty and needing to be filled? Doesn’t that hurt?’

It does. It aches unlike anything you’ve ever known. The lingering buzz of your orgasm just barely quells the worsening cramps, and they’re beginning to rear their ugly head again not minutes later.

You choke out a sob. “Wh- why are you doing this? What do you want?”

Sharp, wicked laughter fills your head, echoing off the walls of your skull. ‘I’m not doing anything, dear. Just enjoying the show.’ She hisses, ‘I told you, it’s going to be a very long night.’

You must be hallucinating. This fever - whatever this is, is simply cauterizing your senses, or possibly interacting with the tadpole? But the tadpole doesn’t speak, not like this. Never so clearly. Not with words.

Think, please. There has to be a reason this -

“Is everything alright?” Shadowheart raps on the canvas of your tent. “I heard a yelp. Are you hurt?”

Shit.

‘Ooh, this one might do!’  You feel an unwelcome… eagerness flood you.

No. No. Absolutely not.

You try not to panic. 

Under no circumstances should she or anyone else come in here.

The best strategy may be to ignore her - pretend you’re still sleeping. It seems like a good plan, but before you have a chance to follow through with it, another sharp contraction hits. This one is somehow even worse than the ones before. 

You pull your sheets up to your mouth to stifle your whine, but the half elf’s ears are sharper than most. “I’m coming in.”

She opens the flap to your tent and gasps when she sees you there - skin flushed pink, doubled over and covered in sweat. 

“Gods, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Her hand reaches out towards you. 

Without thinking, you swat it away with your own. Your skin tingles at the contact, and the essence of a smile crosses over the threshold into your mind. The intruder giggles with satisfaction.

“Don’t,” you plead, “Don’t touch me.”

She scans over you, taking in your humiliating state. Her face twists with concern. “I need to know if you’re feverish. Please. You look awful.” 

‘Well, I think you look delectable.’

You groan.

At this point, you know it’s no use fighting this thing on your own. You go back and forth on whether you want to tell her the whole truth, about the voice in your head and its influence on your body, but the idea mortifies you into silence. 

Regardless, a cleric is likely your best chance of fixing this literal mess, so you nod, close your eyes, and brace yourself.

Shadowheart’s palm meets your forehead. It’s somehow worse than you anticipated. Even the simple, chaste touch sends you reeling, as if her soft hands are caressing your entire body. Flashes of heat wash over you, burning your skin, threatening to pull you back under another wave of ecstasy. 

It’s too much. You try your hardest to suppress a moan, but the muffled sound manages to escape from between your tightened lips, pitiful and broken.

The disembodied voice squeals with delight.

She quickly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. “Apologies. I can confirm your temperature is… elevated, but the rest…” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

You want to scream, cry - anything to release your frustration, but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to risk making any more unsavory noises.

“I believe I can give you some relief by treating the fever, but I’ll have to consult the others on the rest. This doesn’t look like any ordinary sickness.”

Consult the others? No. Gods, no. Nobody can know about this. Is she mad?

You intend to protest, beg her not to share this with anyone, tell her whatever death awaits you on the other side of this would be preferable, but she’s speaking an incantation before you have the chance.

A bright, green aura envelopes you, cooling your skin and ever so slightly easing the cramps. With the pain dulled, it's as though you can finally think again. 

You want to laugh. This situation is so utterly ridiculous that you’d find it hilarious, were it anyone else, but with the modicum of relief comes exhaustion - eyelids heavy, vision blurring with weariness.

“Get some rest. We’ll figure this out.” 

Her reassuring words are the last thing you hear before you’re overcome by darkness.

[musings-ofthe-unamused]

Love and DeepSpace: LIs as Movies

A/N: I've had this idea stuck in my head for a bit. If you want any of these to become AU fics, let me know! Except for Zayne. His is already being written <3

Warnings: N/A

Ask Box: Open

Masterlist | Ko-Fi | VGen | Patreon | Twitter | Archive of Our Own

Xavier: Spirited Away

Okay, hear me out. I know Haku is a water spirit and that fits Rafayel, but the whole movie just screams Xavier to me. Him and Haku have similar personalities (in my opinion).

Xavier doing everything to protect you while succumbing to his fate, but you can't have that and do what you can to help him break free. Maybe you two weren't meant to be together, but you two were destined to meet and save each other.

Rafayel: Your Name

This one would be so fun with Rafayel. Switching bodies with him would be horrible, but he finds it hilarious. You are working to figure out what's going on and who he is. He keeps messing around, but in secret, he's desperately searching for you.

When connection is cut, Rafayel is devastated. And when he finally finds out what happened, he believes that he'll never be able to meet you. He just goes through the motions of life after that. Until one day, he sees a familiar face...

Zayne: Pride and Prejudice

Yes, I am writing this fanfic. It'll be multi chapter and a slow burn. I will spread my Mr. Darcy!Zayne agenda until everyone loves it!! Pride and Prejudice is filled with yearning that is masked by societal roles and what cannot be.

Zayne is so caught up in his yearning for you vs. his duty and title that he comes across as cold and judgmental. The tension between the two of you build and build with every interaction, every misunderstanding, that it all explodes.

Sylus: The Sound of Music

This is a bit of an odd choice, but it works! First, its hilarious and heartwarming to think of Sylus having so many kids. Second, I think the love story in the Sound of Music is very sweet.

Sylus, who's very set in his ways, hires you for help. You're so amusing: stubborn and easily angered. But you're good at what you do. And you remind Sylus what's important in life.

Caleb: The Princess Bride

This is my all time favorite movie. I've watched it hundreds of times and know it by heart. This is so Caleb coded. Westley leaves his beloved Buttercup and comes back a different man. Cocky, flirty, and definitely hiding secrets, Caleb is the perfectly Westley.

Caleb had to stay away. It wasn't safe for him to come back. And once it was, he had to hide his identity and pretend that he was the man that supposedly killed him. And now, he takes you away from your betrothed. You are combatant and fiery, just like he remembers. He can't wait to have you as his again.

[ladykyriaa]

Hi! Any Jinmao fic recs? 😔 I'm in drought 🙏

Also, do you have a song that screams "This is Maomao loving Jinshi!!!!" I've been obsessed with reading character study fics about her ever since LN 16 spoilers.

(Shameless promo but i also write Jinmao fics so just in case you wanna read em Anon👀)

BUT ALSO GOSH THERE'S ACTUALLY SO MANY THO

- I genuinely recommend any fics from kamennosugao ,she's genuinely one of my favourite writers ever!!

- Moon's Bane by CJ_R (G)

a missing scene fic set in LN 11ish (so spoilers warning if you haven't read the LN)

- An Indirect Kiss by Silversprig (M)

Takes place during ep12 of Maomao's part time courtesan work. I've read this so many times I'm genuinely just in love with it😳

- A Button Press Away by Royal_Blue_Rue (E)

EXPLICIT FIC WITH MODERN JINMAO. That is literally all you need to know, im OBSESSEDDDD. Rue is such a talented writer, definitely check more of their work!!

- Just the Fingertips by AngellTheNinth (E)

Again with the Ep12 Jinmao dynamic (can you tell i just genuinely love that episode a lot :3)

- This Consort Au series by Catsitta (T)

Its a jinmao arranged marriage au, naturally Maomao's the consort in said fic. There's currently two fics in the series, I'd recommend give it a read!!

- On Death and Marriage by cozymodeonpoint (M)

A multichapterred fic with HURT JINSHI AND WORRIED MAOMAO. What isnt there to like?!?!?!?!?

- This Married Jinmao series by nerdylizj (E)

They're married, so get ready for the smut :3 theres also miscommunication in which neither of them are able to fully tell the pther just exactly. What. They. Want. (Typical)

- blossoming by julspeaks (G)

A pov on Jinmao's blossoming relationship. One of my ABSOLUTE favourite as we're looking through the lense of the people around them and how Jinmao has developed their relationship.

- this Jinmao series by cxkui (E)

I enjoyed reading this as it shows one of Jinmao's stubborn traits lol, their competitiveness first of all. And their push and pull dynamic that will surely. Surely be the end of us all

- A Family Life and Their intimacy by Chiharei

Two series that I enjoy reading!!!!!! So!! Much!!! The first one is about Jinmao's family life (and really how can i ever say no to THAT) while the second one is a jinmao married fic BUT with a slice of angst with emperor jinshi and consort Maomao as they navigate how to work through it (they have sex, of course)

- The Golden Means by CJ_R (T)

Another multi chaptered fic which is REALLY GOOD. There's LN spoilers in it tho so beware. I find the ending EXTREMELU SATISFACTORY I LOVE IT.

- The Golden Flower by Alexis_Trvlyn (M)

A currently ongoing fic that im deeply. Insanely. Truly. Magnanimously. OBSESSED WITH. every time they update im first in line in front of the fucking door because it is that. Good!!!!!! I love the tense sort of heavy atmosphere Jinmao has, but theyre working through it!! There's also politics and mystery which, of course, is an average KNH fanfic wfiter's meal.

And so for the songs!!!!!! I have so many omg. But I'll give a couple that i think resonated with me very deeply with Jinmao's relationship

- please dont say you love me by Gabrielle Aplin (title is self explanatory i mean cmon!!)

- peace, Dancing with out hands tied, I know Places, by Taylor Swift (if it wasnt obvious enough i love her) but also Jinmao's current arc with politic just politicking around, if feels like theyre not able to do much. They cant really go places they wanna go. Etc etc so yeah

- Run by Taylor Swift ft. Ed sheeran

YALL GOTTA UNDERSTAND. IVE HAD THIS SONG IN MY JINMAO PLAYLIST FOR QUITE A WHILE. So when the latest ln16 epilogue fucking dropped i was SPIRALING OUT OF CONTROL. BECAUSE FUCK YEAH. I FEEL VINDICATED NOWWWWWWW.

- The Only Exception and Rose-Colored Boy by paramore, with maomao's view of love and such i feel like when she finally decided to accept jinshi's feelings she's actually fully trusted herself and him, politics aside, to be together. During the times I read the LN i also feel like she thinks of Jinshi as being too. Idk. Idealistic? Hence, rose-colored boy which is the vibe im getting for jinmao

- Please be Rude by Gigi Perez

- Astronomy by Conan Gray

- All I've ever known from the Hadestown Musical

- reckless driving by Lizzy McAlpine, Ben Kessler

- Message in a Bottle by Taylor Swift

(Let it be known that I genuinely wanted to continue typing in the explanations and my views of these songs for jinmao but typing on phone is. Frankly. Tiring. And im getting sleepy lol. Might update this later)

HERE YA GO ANON.

I know our tastes varies, so heck none of these might suit your palates. But I do hope its helped you somehwat. Make sure to check the writers too!!! Other than the ones I've linked, theres so many more great works theyve put out. Thaht being said, theres also way. Too. Many. Writers that im unable to recommend bcs i just genuinely enjoy reading them all. I cant list em all one by one😭😭😭

[sasheemo]

Friday Thoughts

Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Sunday morning’s spicy haze gives way to a heartfelt conversation about your future together. But with Agatha’s signature flair, it’s anything but ordinary.

Chapter Tags: Jealous Reader, Domestic Bliss, Nicky is Basically a Tiny Wingman, Happy Ending, Fluff Ending, Slow(ish) Burn Payoff, Smut

Word Count: 8.9k

A/N: Chapter 4 dropped on Christmas Eve, and now Chapter 5 is here New Year's Eve—what can I say, I aim for festive timing! 😬

I know I’m not the fastest writer, and I’m sooo sorry about that, but this final chapter had me second-guessing everything right up until the very end.

It was supposed to be short and sweet. No smut. No Rio cameos. Just a heartfelt conversation to wrap everything up neatly. But… well, apparently I can’t resist a little extra spice and some fluff. So instead of “short and sweet,” you’re getting “long and indulgent.” You’re welcome.

Oh, and fair warning—this chapter has a lot of dialogue. But I promise I did my best to make it… engaging wink wink 😏

This is my first-ever completed multi-chapter fic, and honestly? I’m a mix of proud and devastated to be saying goodbye to it. These two have been living rent-free in my head for a while now, and I really hope this ending does them justice.

Thank you to everyone who’s been along for this wild ride—it’s been a joy writing this story, and your support has meant everything. As always, I can’t wait to hear what you think! Here’s to the happy ending these two (and you, let’s be real) deserve. Enjoy and Happy New Year! 💜🥳

Chapter Index

Read on AO3

All you can hear is the relentless pounding of your own heartbeat, each thud drowning out your thoughts as you search for the words.

Agatha’s watching you, her gaze sharp but not unkind. Her hand rests lightly on your arm—a simple, grounding touch—but it might as well be a flame branding your skin, its warmth sending waves of tension rippling through you.

The weight of her presence, the intensity of her eyes, the way her touch seems to anchor you in place, it all builds to a point where you feel like you might snap. You take a step back, breaking the connection, though the movement is hesitant, almost reluctant.

Agatha lets her hand fall without protest, her brow lifting slightly in curiosity as she watches you retreat.

Your feet begin to move instinctively, pacing back and forth across the room as you try to untangle the storm of thoughts in your head. The soft sounds of your bare feet against the hardwood floor create a rhythm, something tangible to focus on as you walk a short line, turn, and walk it again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Agatha shifting her stance. She takes a couple of steps back and leans casually against the dresser, crossing her arms over her chest with an ease that contrasts maddeningly with your spiraling. 

Her hair falls loosely over her shoulders, the soft light catching on its dark waves. Her expression is calm, almost amused, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips as she tracks your movements.

After a couple of minutes of incessant pacing, you don’t even need to look at her to know she’s probably fighting the urge to laugh. She sighs, low and exasperated, though there’s no real annoyance in it.

“Come here, hon.” her voice cuts through the fog in your mind like a blade, steady and commanding. 

You freeze mid-step, glancing toward her, your pulse quickening at the simple authority in her tone.

Slowly, you approach, hesitant but unable to resist the pull of her presence. You stop just short of closing the distance, leaving a fragile sliver of space between you—a barrier you cling to, as much for your own composure as for a chance to steady the storm inside. 

Every part of you aches to close the gap, but you hold back, convincing yourself that this small distance is the only way to face her with a clear mind.

Agatha doesn’t push, doesn’t reach for you. Instead, she stays where she is, leaning against the dresser, her eyes fixed on yours with piercing intensity. Her stillness feels intentional, as though she’s giving you space to breathe, to think, while still holding you firmly in her orbit.

“Well?” she prompts, her voice a velvety blend of calm and command. “Whatever’s got you pacing like a caged animal, it’s time to spit it out.”

You let out a sharp breath, your shoulders slumping slightly as the tension inside you finally breaks.

“Doesn’t this worry you?” you ask, your voice tight with nervous energy.

“You’ll have to be a little more specific, hon.” she replies smoothly, her tone effortlessly confident. “What part of this is supposed to worry me?”

You gesture vaguely with your hands, the words tumbling out clumsily as you try to give shape to your thoughts. “I mean… all of it? Us. Nicholas. What if—what if this gets messy?”

Her smirk deepens, and she tilts her head, studying you with that maddening, amused expression, like she’s already figured you out and is just waiting for you to catch up.

“Messy?” she repeats, the word rolling off her tongue with a teasing lilt. “Sweetheart, the only thing messy about this is how you’re tying yourself into knots over it.”

“I’m serious, Agatha.” you scoff defensively, crossing your arms over your chest.

“So am I, hon.” her voice sharpens slightly, firm but not harsh. “Look, I’m not saying there won’t be challenges. But whatever they are, they’re not anything two grown women can’t handle.”

“So… what exactly is it that’s worrying you?” she presses, her tone softening just a fraction.

Her question hangs in the air, and the weight of her gaze settles over you like a warm, steady pressure. You glance away, trying to collect yourself, before meeting her eyes again.

“It’s everything.” you admit, your voice quieter now. “I just… I don’t know how this works. How we work.”

Agatha doesn’t respond. She just watches you, but there’s no rush in her gaze, no impatience—just a quiet expectation, as if she knows the words are there and trusts you to find them on your own.

Her unexpected steadiness makes something inside you loosen. For some reason, you thought Agatha might struggle with conversations like this—emotional topics, deep and vulnerable. It never seemed like her thing, at least in your mind.

But now, seeing her so composed, so unshaken by the storm you’ve brought to her, you realize that maybe she was expecting this, maybe she’s known this conversation was inevitable long before you did.

And somehow, her calm confidence makes it easier to breathe.

“I just…” you trail off, running a hand through your hair. “I need to know. When did this start? When did you start… feeling like this about me?”

Her brows lift slightly, and for a moment, genuine surprise flickers across her face. It vanishes as quickly as it came, replaced by that familiar smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

“That’s a tough one to answer.” she begins, her voice carrying a thoughtful edge. “It wasn’t some grand epiphany. More like… a collection of little moments, each one adding up until I couldn’t ignore them anymore.” 

There’s a faint trace of annoyance in her tone, not aimed at you but at the sheer audacity of the realization itself. Like the idea that you’ve been occupying so much space in her mind is a personal affront she’s still coming to terms with—and even now, it seems to bruise her pride just a little.

“Like what?” you press with quiet insistence, a thread of determination woven through the words.

Agatha tilts her head, her smirk softening as her gaze narrows, calculating. For a moment, she looks almost reluctant to speak, as if she’s weighing how much to tell you. 

“You remember that afternoon a couple of months ago,” she starts, her tone deceptively casual. “when you showed up drenched from head to toe? It was pouring outside, and you still walked in here grinning like an idiot, dripping all over my floors.”

You blink, caught off guard by the memory. “Yeah, what about it?”

“I thought to myself,” she murmurs, her eyes drifting as if replaying the scene, “how does someone look that damn happy while freezing and soaking wet? And why the hell can’t I stop staring at her?”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, your cheeks heating as your gaze darts away from hers. Instinctively, you feel the urge to take a step back, a reflexive retreat from the intensity of the moment. 

But this time, Agatha reaches out, moving as though she’s read your mind. 

She leans forward slightly, her hand grazing your wrist as her fingers curl lightly around it, tugging with just enough firmness to pull you a fraction closer to her.

“And then…” she continues, her voice gaining that teasing edge that always leaves you off-balance, “You’d leave those little treats from the café on the kitchen table. Like some saintly delivery girl, making sure Nicholas had something sweet after school and I had something waiting for me after work. You didn’t think I noticed, did you?”

“I just thought—” you begin, stammering slightly, but she cuts you off with a wave of her hand.

“You thought I was too busy to notice, or that I didn’t care.” she says, her tone mockingly serious now, though her smirk never wavers.

Her fingers trail from your wrist to your hip as she speaks, and it takes a moment for you to realize you’ve unconsciously taken a step closer, the space between you narrowing with each passing second.

“And you,” she continues, her voice dipping lower, “always smelled like coffee after your morning shifts. That scent… it stuck with me. Sometimes I’d walk into the kitchen at night, hours after you left, and I could still smell it. God, I started to notice it everywhere. It drove me insane.”

Your breath catches at her words, and again as her other hand joins the first, both settling firmly on your hips. With a final, deliberate tug, she guides you into the space between her legs, her warmth radiating against you, drawing you into her orbit completely.

“And then there was last Friday night.” she breathes, her voice steeped in an intimacy that makes every word feel like a secret. “I came home and found you on the couch with Nicky curled up next to you. I stood there just staring at you both. I couldn’t stop thinking about how… safe he looked with you. How much he trusts you. How cute the two of you looked together like that.”

The weight of her words leaves you momentarily stunned, but before you can process them fully, a darker thought claws its way to the forefront of your mind.

“And the other Fridays?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

Her brow arches, and the sharpness in her expression returns, a glint of mischief sparking in her eyes. “What about them?”

“You know what I mean.” you say, crossing your arms tightly, trying to shield yourself from the sudden vulnerability you feel. “All those nights you came home late, looking… like that.”

Agatha sighs, the sound low and laced with mock boredom, yet the gentle squeeze of her hands on your hips betrays her true feelings—anything but indifferent. It’s not real annoyance, more a carefully crafted exasperation tinged with amusement, as if, deep down, she’s savoring how your relentless, probing questions are playing perfectly into her hands.

“Most of them were business dinners.” she says, her voice firm and matter-of-fact. “Clients, potential partners. Necessary evils, nothing exciting.”

“But not all of them.” you press, your voice sharper now, frustration lacing your words.

“No.” she remarks dryly. “Not all of them.”

“How many were dates?” you demand, the jealousy you’ve been trying to suppress bubbling to the surface hot and fast despite your best efforts to tamp it down.

“Does it matter?” she counters smoothly, her tone cool but not dismissive.

“It does to me.” you snap before you can stop yourself.

“Fine, a few. But none of them were serious, hon.” she says, and you could swear her voice is playful, almost teasing, as if she can sense the jealousy burning you alive and is enjoying every second of it.

“Define ‘serious.’” you scoff, your hands coming up to push lightly against her shoulders, but she doesn’t budge an inch.

“One dinner.” she states with a shrug, her tone infuriatingly calm and offhand. “Maybe some fun at their place afterwards, but that’s it. It was never anything more.”

Her honesty stings, even if it’s what you wanted, what you asked for. You look away, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the jealousy from overtaking you.

“And last Friday night?” you press, your voice barely above a whisper. The words feel heavy as they leave your lips, your pulse quickening with a mix of apprehension and the need to know. “What happened before you came home and found me and Nicky on the couch?”

Her grin turns inexplicably wicked as her hands slide lower to firmly your ass. With a deliberate tug, she pulls you flush against her, your hips colliding in a way that sends heat racing up your spine.

“Last Friday night was a date, sweetheart.” she begins, her tone maddeningly casual, like she’s recounting a a dull anecdote rather than making your blood boil. “She tried to kiss me outside the restaurant and invited me to her place.”

She pauses just long enough for the words to sink in, her eyes glinting with amusement as she gauges your reaction.

The words hit you like a cold gust of wind, and your chest tightens, jealousy fizzling hot and insistent in your stomach. Her nonchalance feels like a knife twisting, and you’re sure she can sense it, her smirk widening ever so slightly as her eyes lock onto yours.

You force yourself to hold her gaze, but the casual edge of her tone, the way she seems so unaffected, is almost too much to bear. A hundred thoughts race through your mind, each one more unbearable than the last. You’re not sure whether to scoff, snap, or step away, but before you can decide, Agatha’s voice cuts through the tension again.

“But…”

The word hangs in the air for a moment, and her expression shifts, the confidence that usually cloaks her like armor faltering ever so slightly. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel the weight of whatever she’s about to say. 

She exhales through her nose, the hesitation palpable as though she’s debating whether to say the words out loud. 

When she finally does, her voice is lower, dipping into a gentleness that catches you completely off guard, each word laced with a quiet vulnerability that makes your heart stutter. 

“When I politely declined her offer… I called her by your name.”

You blink. Once. Twice. your brain firing on all cylinders yet somehow managing to stall completely. Surely, you must have misheard her.

And then she winks. And it’s game over.

Your eyes widen to comical proportions, your jaw drops like it’s auditioning for a slapstick comedy, and you’re pretty sure your entire face is now brighter than a chili pepper under a spotlight. 

At your reaction, Agatha’s smirk blossoms into its full, mischievous glory, positively dripping with wicked delight—a clear indicator that she’s savoring every second of your mental implosion.

“You what?!” you practically squawk, the words bursting out louder and more incredulous than you thought humanly possible.

Agatha chuckles, low and rich, the sound rolling over you like a warm wave. The sheer satisfaction glinting in her eyes is almost maddening, and her hands, still resting on your ass, shift slightly—her fingers brushing against the loose fabric of your shorts in a way that feels far too casual given the bombshell she just dropped.

“No, no, wait.” you stammer, still trying to process. “You’re telling me you, Agatha Harkness—confident, poised, never-misses-a-beat Agatha Harkness—actually called someone by the wrong name? My name? On a date? I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly strike me as the type to… you know… trip over your own rizz like that.”

She tilts her head, one brow arching in mock warning as her eyes lock onto yours, a look that clearly says, Careful, hon, don’t push your luck. It’s playful, yes, but there’s just enough edge in her gaze to make your breath hitch, like she’s daring you to test her patience. 

“Trust me, sweetheart, no one was more surprised than me.” she admits with dry amusement as the faintest shrug rolls off her shoulders.

But there’s a betraying flicker in her eyes, a glimmer of self-deprecation, and you can tell she’s trying very hard to hold back laughter herself at this point.

“So, you’re standing there, at the end of your very hot date or whatever, and just—what? Randomly blurt out my name?” you ask, the teasing edge in your voice growing sharper as you fight the urge to giggle.

“It wasn’t quite like that.” she corrects, “We were outside the restaurant, and she leaned in—clearly angling for a kiss. I… stopped her before it went that far.” she continues as her smirk deepens. “But then she still invited me back to her place, and… well, that’s when it happened. Your name name came out instead of whatever hers was. Clear as day.”

The image plays out in your head: Agatha standing there with some impossibly glamorous woman, utterly composed until… she isn’t. The thought sends a strange mix of emotions swirling through you—jealousy, disbelief, and something dangerously close to triumph.

“Why didn’t you…?” you hesitate, your voice faltering as the question comes out before you can stop yourself. “Why didn’t you just go home with her?”

“It wouldn’t have made much sense, would it?” she replies with a shrug, as if you’ve just asked the most obvious question in the world.

“Why not?” you push, your heart pounding now.

“Because it wouldn’t have mattered. The whole date was a lousy attempt to stop thinking about the fact that I wanted my hot, younger babysitter.”

Your breath hitches, heat rushing to your face at her words. They land between you, heavy and electric, making it impossible to look away.

“And I knew,” she continues, her voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial, “that if I’d gone home with her, it wouldn’t have changed anything. I’d have spent the whole night imagining it was you. Hell, I spent the entire dinner doing that.”

The honesty in her words steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you momentarily stunned. Her confession is playful and teasing, but it’s also raw, stripped of any pretense, leaving no room for doubt.

“You’ve been in my head, sweetheart, for longer than you realize. Last Friday night just made it impossible to keep pretending otherwise.”, her words come out almost in a sigh, laced with exasperation, like this whole ordeal has been just as maddening for her as it has been for you.

Your thoughts are spinning, a chaotic swirl of emotions you can’t quite untangle, but the way she’s looking at you—steady, unshaken, and utterly sure—anchors you in place. Her gaze is magnetic, pulling you toward a singular truth that feels impossible to ignore, and there’s only one thing your mind is screaming at you to do.

Your hands fly to her neck, fingers tangling in the soft waves of her hair as your lips crash into hers. The kiss is anything but gentle—urgent, unrestrained, a collision of pent-up tension, jealousy and raw need. 

Agatha stiffens for a second, caught off guard, but the hesitation melts as quickly as it came.

She responds with equal fervor, her lips moving against yours with a commanding urgency that steals the breath from your lungs. When she finally breaks away, it’s not in retreat but with a low, surprised laugh that vibrates against your lips.

“Well.” she drawls, her voice roughened with amusement and provocation, her lips still brushing yours, “If jealousy makes you this needy, I might just make it a habit to mention my Friday nights more often.”

Your face burns as you glare at her, though the heat in your chest only intensifies. 

“Don’t even try it.” you snap, tugging slightly at her bottom lip with your teeth as your voice drops to a playful warning. “I mean it, Agatha.”

Agatha chuckles, the sound rumbling through her chest as one of her hands drifts from your hips to the front of your shorts, her fingers toying lazily with the waistband. 

The casual, almost absent motion ignites a wildfire beneath your skin, leaving every nerve alight and your body coiled tight with anticipation.

She slips one thigh between yours, nudging gently to widen your stance, and your hands instinctively clutch her shoulders for balance. Before you can steady yourself, her fingers dip beneath the fabric, brushing the edge of your panties.

Her smirk deepens, her eyes gleaming with sinful intent that sends a tremor through your knees, as if she’s already savoring the exact moment she’ll make you fall apart. 

“But baby…” she murmurs, leaning in until her lips brush the shell of your ear, her voice dropping into something dark and honey-sweet. “Needy looks sooo good on you”

Her voice alone sends a pulse straight to your core, and when her fingers dip lower, slipping past the edge of your panties to press against your soaked folds, the moan that rips from your throat is nothing short of pornographic.

You’re drenched, embarrassingly so, and the slick sound of her fingers gliding through your arousal only makes it worse. 

She doesn’t even try to conceal her delight, letting out a throaty, satisfied hum that vibrates against your skin. It’s a sound of pure indulgence, as though she’s reveling in the way your body responds so eagerly, so quickly, to her words, to her touches.

“Agatha—fuck!” you gasp, your voice trembling with a mix of need and protest as your hips buck involuntarily against her hand. “We’re not… we’re not done talking.”

Her lips curl into a grin as she pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes gleaming with a challenge as her fingers slide deeper, spreading your wetness with excruciatingly languid strokes.

“Oh, I know.” she purrs, her tone dripping with faux innocence as her fingers tease your entrance. “Go on, baby. Keep talking.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to—”

The sentence dies in your throat, replaced by a strangled moan as two fingers slide into you effortlessly. The sound of your wetness fills the room, obscene and loud, and you can’t stop the strangled cry that escapes when she curls her fingers just right.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” she asks smoothly, her smirk widening as her thumb brushes a lazy, maddeningly light circle over your clit. “I’ve let you ask all your questions, answered them, and I’m still here for the rest. But…”. She punctuates her next words with a deep thrust, her palm grinding against your clit in a way that makes your breath hitch. “It’s time you start giving me something back, don’t you think?”

“Oh my God—fuck!” you groan, your head dropping to her shoulder as your hips grind against her hand, chasing the pleasure she’s so expertly coaxing from you. 

Your legs tremble, barely holding you up, and the wet, filthy sound of her fingers moving inside you makes your face burn with humiliation and need.

“That’s it.” she hums, her voice low and approving as her free hand moves to tangle in your hair, tilting your head so her lips graze your ear. “Be a good girl and try for me, mmh?”

“Agatha, please.” you whimper, your nails digging into her shoulders as your walls clench around her fingers. “I can’t—I can’t focus when you’re—mmh—when you’re doing that.”

“Sure, you can. And you will.” she murmurs, her thumb pressing harder against your clit in rhythm with her thrusts. “You’ll think, talk, listen, and take everything I’m giving you, just like the clever girl I know you are.”

Her praise is a double-edged sword, both a balm and a brand, sending warmth flooding through you while also igniting a stubborn need to meet her challenge. Gritting your teeth, you force your voice to form a single, coherent thought.

“N-nicholas.” you stammer, your voice barely intelligible as pleasure and worry collide in your chest. “What about—oh, fuck—what about Nicholas? What if— what if this messes everything up for him?”

Agatha’s smirk softens just slightly, though her fingers don’t falter, their pace steady and relentless.

“Nicholas is smarter than most adults, baby.” she murmurs, her voice impossibly calm and confident even as you whimper against her shoulder. “He’s practically a human lie detector. Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already picked up on something.”

“Besides, he adores you.” she continues casually, as if you aren’t completely falling apart in her arms. “As long as we handle this carefully—and don’t, you know, start fucking in the living room while he’s watching cartoons—he’ll be fine.”

You let out a strangled laugh, though it quickly dissolves into a moan as her fingers curl deeper, hitting a spot that makes your entire body tense. 

“But—but what if he—oh my God—doesn’t take it well?”

“Sweetheart.” she murmurs, her free hand tilting your chin up to meet her gaze, her eyes impossibly tender yet razor-sharp. “Stop overthinking. We’ll handle it. Together.”

You nod weakly, unable to form a rational response as she quickens her pace, driving you closer to the edge with every thrust. 

But before you can let yourself fall completely into the haze of pleasure, another thought claws its way to the surface.

“And Rio?” you choke out, though your voice is barely a whisper now, trembling with the effort of holding on. “What happens when she—fuck—when she finds out?”

“Rio doesn’t have a say in my life anymore.” she drawls, her smirk widening into something downright predatory as her fingers thrust deeper, harder, drawing a strangled cry from your throat. “Sure, we keep things civil for Nicholas’s sake, but beyond that? She can think whatever she wants. It won’t change a damn thing.”

“But—but what if—mmh yes—what if she makes it hard for us?”

“What’s she gonna do, huh?” Agatha arches a brow, her free hand gripping your waist to steady you as your legs start to tremble. “Get all huffy and judgmental? Let her.”

Her confidence ripples through you, grounding and infuriating all at once, even as her pace grows brutal. Your walls clench tighter around her, the pressure in your belly building to an unbearable height. Yet one last question remains lodged in the back of your throat. 

When it finally tumbles out, your voice cracks under the weight of it. “And what if you… what if you get tired of me?”

Agatha freezes for a heartbeat, her gaze pinning yours in place with a fierce, almost dangerous intensity that takes your breath away.

“I won’t.” she snaps, her tone so firm, so unshakable, it’s as if the very idea is offensive.

Her gaze drops pointedly to where her fingers disappear into you, sliding out glistening before thrusting back in with a wet, filthy sound, over and over again.

“If you could see yourself right now—falling apart on my fingers, so perfect, so mine—you’d know just how impossible that question is.”

Her words land like a thunderclap and your body shudders violently, your legs trembling so hard you’re certain you’d collapse if it weren’t for the firm, possessive grip she keeps on your waist.

And then, as if to punish you for your suggestion, or perhaps to drive her point home with devastating clarity, she slides a third finger into you without warning. The stretch is intense, toeing the line between pleasure and overwhelming, and you let out a strangled cry that tears through the room.

Her thumb presses harder, faster, against your clit as her fingers work you open. It’s deliberate, merciless, as though she’s staking her claim in every possible way, daring you to question her devotion again.

“That’s it, baby.” she hums, her voice dark and velvety, her satisfaction palpable in the way her lips curl into a smirk against your temple. “Taking me so well… so fucking perfect.”

Her words only add fuel to the fire blazing inside you, and you’re helpless to stop the wrecked, broken moans spilling from your lips as her pace quickens. 

Your body arches involuntarily, seeking more, needing more, as the pressure builds impossibly higher, threatening to snap with every flick of her thumb and thrust of her fingers.

You silently call on every divine entity, ancient force, or cosmic fluke you can think of, just to ensure she’ll grant the desperate plea teetering on the edge of your lips.

“Please!” the word escapes you as a desperate sob, raw and aching as your hands clutch her shoulders. “Please, Agatha—fuck, I need to—”

“Come for me, baby.” her command cuts you off, slicing through the haze like a blade and shattering you completely. 

Your body seizes, the coil in your belly snapping violently as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, relentless and all-consuming. 

Wetness gushes from you, coating her hand and soaking the fabric of your shorts as she continues to work you through it, her fingers dragging unrelentingly along your walls, sending shivers through every nerve.

“Fuck, look at you.” she breathes, her tone edged with awe and sinful pride as your walls spasm around her fingers, gripping her so tightly it’s a wonder she can still move. “So messy for me.”

The intensity is almost unbearable, your cries escalating into a scream that rips from your throat as the pleasure crests in waves, each more powerful than the last. 

Agatha doesn’t let up, her movements steady and calculated, prolonging your pleasure until the last waves finally begin to ebb. 

Her hand on your waist tightens, grounding you as her lips press soft, soothing kisses along your jaw, a stark contrast to the raw intensity of what she’s just done to you.

As you collapse against her, your breathing ragged and uneven, she slows her fingers, her touch gentler now as she carefully withdraws, her hand glistening with your release. 

She presses a lingering kiss to your temple, her voice impossibly tender despite the smug satisfaction lacing it.

“See? I knew you could do it. Such a good girl for me.” she murmurs, her words a caress that feels like velvet against your frayed senses. 

Her free hand strokes slow, appeasing circles against your lower back, grounding you as the tremors in your body begin to ebb.

The room feels impossibly quiet now, the only sounds your labored breathing and the warm, satisfied chuckle that hums through Agatha’s chest.

“You’re insufferable.” you mumble weakly against her neck, your voice hoarse and cracked, though there’s a stifled laugh buried beneath the exhaustion.

“And yet….” she purrs, lifting your chin with a single, deft finger until your gaze meets hers. Her piercing eyes hold yours captive, but there’s a glimmer of something softer beneath the smirk curling at her lips—something achingly tender, almost reverent. “Here we are.”

Her thumb brushes over your cheek, the simple, affectionate gesture robbing you of what little breath you’ve managed to reclaim. 

You blink up at her, still dazed, a faint, incredulous smile pulling at your lips.

“Here we are,” you echo, your voice trembling but steady enough to carry the weight of a moment that feels suspended in time.

It’s a connection that needs no embellishment, one that feels intimate and inevitable, like it had been quietly waiting for the two of you all along.

The rest of Sunday unfolds in a blissful, lazy haze. 

After the emotionally charged conversation in the morning, the day slows to a gentle rhythm. Agatha suggests a walk to clear your heads, and the two of you meander through a nearby park. 

The air is crisp, the sun peeking through the clouds as you stroll side by side, talking about nothing in particular—favorite seasons, forgotten childhood stories, ridiculous hypotheticals. 

It feels easy, natural, like you’ve been doing this forever.

Back at home, the afternoon fades into evening. You help Agatha prepare a simple dinner, and she insists on pouring you a glass of wine while you work. 

Later, the two of you curl up on the couch, a movie playing on the screen, your head resting on her shoulder. The sound of her quiet laughter at the film’s witty dialogue makes your heart ache with something sweet and new.

But the serenity is interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. Nicholas bursts in, his bag slung over his shoulder, his cheeks flushed from the cool evening air. 

Rio follows, her gaze sweeping briefly between you and Agatha, lingering just long enough to convey a subtle curiosity, before she offers a polite nod. Bending slightly, she presses a kiss to Nicholas’s cheek, her voice soft as she wishes him goodnight. 

Without another word, she straightens, casting one final glance in your direction, then strides out the door with the same poised elegance she carried in.

“Hey, kiddo!” Agatha calls out, sitting up slightly but keeping her arm draped over the back of the couch, her fingers brushing your shoulder.

Nicholas closes the door and freezes the second he turns, his eyes darting between the two of you. 

His brow furrows, and then, with his hereditary dramatic flair, he lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Finally!” he groans, dropping his bag on the floor with a thud. “I was wondering when you two were gonna figure it out.”

You blink, startled. “Wait—what?”

Agatha’s smirk is instant, her lips curling as she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “What do you mean, ‘figure it out,’ Nicky?”

He rolls his eyes with as if the answer is painfully obvious. 

“I mean the two of you! You’re always talking about each other and asking me stuff.” he quips, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You’re like, ‘What’s your mom’s favorite breakfast?’, and Mom’s like, ‘Do you think she likes scary movies?’. Ugh, it was soooo annoying.”

Nicholas shakes his head, letting out another dramatic sigh as if he’s been a long-suffering martyr to your mutual pining. 

From beside you, you hear the unmistakable sound of a small snort escaping Agatha.

Heat floods your cheeks as you glance at her, but it only makes her grin widen. She arches a single, perfectly smug eyebrow at you, her expression dripping with satisfaction.

“Told you.” she says simply, giving an exaggerated shrug.

You cover your face with your hands, groaning. “This is mortifying.”

Agatha’s laughter fills the room, warm and unrestrained. She reaches out to tug one of your hands away from your face, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture so casual yet affectionate it leaves you breathless.

After that day, You and Agatha decide to take things slow, despite the months you’ve already spent orbiting each other. You want to step out of the roles you’ve occupied—Nicholas’s babysitter, his mom—and discover who you are to each other beyond that.

At first, you were almost afraid. Afraid that someone like Agatha, who seemed so independent and unapologetically confident, might be all fire and intensity, with little space for tenderness beyond fleeting moments. 

But slowly, carefully, she proves you wrong.

When Agatha loves, you realize, she doesn’t hold back. She loves with her entire being, fiercely yet gently, as though nothing outside the world she’s built around you truly matters.

Sure, the sex is breathtaking—raw, unrestrained, and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. But with Agatha, it’s so much more than that. 

She doesn’t just make you feel wanted, she makes you feel profoundly seen, utterly cherished. Every touch carries intention, every kiss a pledge of devotion.

She quickly learns your body like a map, her fingers and lips tracing each curve with reverence, savoring every discovery as though unveiling a hidden treasure meant only for her.

But beyond the fiery passion, there’s an unexpected warmth, a softness that takes you by surprise. 

Her teasing sarcasm and sharp wit—cornerstones of who she is—remain ever-present, capable of making you groan in exasperation one moment and laugh until your sides ache the next. 

And yet, as new facets of her emerge, they gradually begin to share space with so much more.

At night, when the world is quiet, Agatha reveals a rare, thoughtful vulnerability, speaking of the things that scare her or the mistakes she’s afraid of repeating.

In the evenings, she pulls you onto the couch, wrapping you in her arms as she teases you about your movie choices, only to stay glued to the screen the entire time.

In the middle of an argument, even when her irritation is clear and the sharpness in her tone feels like a shield she’s reluctant to lower, her gaze softens. Against her own nature, she takes a breath, letting the frustration ebb just enough to say, “I’m listening, go on.” It’s not easy for her, you can see that—but she tries. She chooses to stay, to listen, to understand, even when every instinct might tell her to close off.

Each moment is a small glimpse into a side of her that feels like a gift, a quiet affirmation that she is so much more than you ever imagined.

You also come to realize, that Agatha, for all her snarky remarks and commanding presence, craves affection too. 

She’ll never say it outright, of course, but the way she seeks those little moments of closeness gives her away every time.

The way she tucks you closer to her chest in the morning, long before the rest of the world is awake. The way her hand brushes your hair back as you lean over a book, a casual touch that lingers just a second too long. The way she kisses your temple absentmindedly as she passes you in the kitchen. The way her fingers trail down your arm before settling on your waist as you both stand in the backyard at night, watching Nicholas excitedly point out constellations while Agatha murmurs their names with a quiet smile. The way her fingers softly brush against yours when she hands you a cup of coffee.

These aren’t grand gestures—they’re quiet, unspoken reminders of how deeply she cares. They’re Agatha’s way of saying what she can’t always put into words, of reaching for connection in ways that feel achingly sincere.

Agatha surprises you constantly. 

She starts showing up at the café during your morning shifts, always impeccably dressed, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she strides in like she owns the place. 

“I’m between meetings” she claims casually, though you notice she always stays just long enough to leave your coworkers flustered and whispering about ‘the gorgeous older woman’ who sits at the corner table, sipping her black coffee and glancing at her phone like she has nowhere better to be.

When she catches you watching her from behind the counter, her smirk is instant, as if to say, Yes, hon, I know I’m distracting you. And it never fails to make your pulse race.

She spoils you shamelessly, too. Thoughtful gifts appear with alarming regularity—books she’s noticed you eyeing, a beautiful scarf she swears “just screamed your name,” or your favorite pastries from a bakery across town. 

“Stop fussing.” she says one evening as you eye the expensive wine she’s ordered at a rooftop restaurant. The city lights glitter around you, and the cool night air brushes your cheeks. “You deserve it.”

You roll your eyes but lean in to kiss her anyway, her hand slipping up to cup your cheek. Her smile softens, that guarded edge melting just enough to reveal the depth of her affection, and your heart aches in the best way.

For Agatha, you could have stopped working altogether if you wanted to. She made it clear from the beginning that money would never be an issue, brushing off the idea as though it was laughable. 

Still, you hold onto your job at the café. It keeps you busy in the mornings, gives you a sense of independence, and lets you stash away some savings of your own. Besides, you’ve worked there so long it feels strange to think about leaving.

At the same time, you insist on keeping your part-time babysitting job, though you flat-out refuse to let her pay you anymore.

That particular conversation becomes a recurring battle. One day, however, you reach your limit.

It’s the umpteenth time Agatha offers to pay you for the hours you spend with Nicky. She leans casually against the doorframe as you fold Nicholas’s laundry, her voice calm but insistent, a mix of exasperation and charm she wields far too well.

You freeze mid-fold, the heat of your frustration bubbling over.

“Agatha, I swear to God, if you bring this up one more time…” you snap, throwing a pair of socks straight at her chest with uncharacteristic force.

Her smirk falters as she catches them, her eyes widening at the sharpness in your voice.

“You’re seriously yelling at me over socks?” she quips, clearly thrown off but still managing to sound incredulous.

“I’m yelling because I’m done with this conversation.” you fire back, your voice louder than you intended. “I’m not taking your money for this anymore. Period. End of story. Got it?”

Agatha blinks, stunned into silence. It’s not often you raise your voice, and judging by her expression, she doesn’t quite know what to do with it. 

After a long, weighted pause, she finally lets out an exaggerated sigh, her shoulders slumping dramatically as she tosses the socks back at you.

“Well, you’re impossible.” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back against the doorframe with a look of mock irritation. “I can’t win with you.”

You narrow your eyes at her, still fuming, but the hint of a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“You already have.” you mutter, chucking another pair of socks her way.

This time, her smirk returns in its full glory. She catches the socks with ease, her expression relaxing as she throws them back with a playful flick of her wrist. “Flatterer.”

After that conversation, the balance you strike feels so natural, so effortlessly right, that it’s hard to remember a time when things were any different.

You spend your mornings at the café, while most of your afternoons are dedicated to Nicholas. Over time, Agatha begins working from home more often, and those afternoons blend seamlessly into dinners shared around the table, followed by evenings that melt into cozy, lazy hours on the couch. 

Even if you don’t see her much while she works—her door often closed as she immerses herself in work—there’s something undeniably comforting about knowing she’s just upstairs. 

It’s in the faint hum of her voice during a call, the creak of floorboards as she shifts her chair, or the brief moments when she steps out to grab coffee, check on Nicholas, or steal a quick kiss from you in the kitchen. 

Her presence lingers throughout the house, steady and grounding, offering a quiet reassurance you hadn’t realized you craved.

The roles you once played haven’t disappeared, but they’ve shifted, harmonizing gracefully into this new dynamic that feels equal parts exciting and comforting.

Agatha doesn’t push you to redefine everything overnight, doesn’t demand more than you’re ready to give. Instead, she meets you where you are, and together, you explore the space between who you were before and who you’re becoming now.

Five months in, Agatha brings it up over breakfast.

“You know…” she begins casually, buttering her toast with the kind of ease that suggests she isn’t about to change your life forever, “it’d make a lot more sense if you just lived here.”

You nearly choke on your coffee, coughing and setting the mug down with a sharp clink. “Are you—are you serious?”

She looks up from her plate, her expression calm but her eyes warm, filled with a certainty that grounds you even as your heart races. “Of course. It feels right, doesn’t it?”

It does. Deep down, you’d known for a while now that this was where you belonged. Still, hearing it aloud, from her, catches you off guard. But there’s no hesitation when you answer.

“Yes.” you say, the word coming out soft but steady. “It does.”

Everything falls into place with an almost disarming simplicity and, by the end of the weekend, your things are integrated seamlessly into her home. 

Your favorite mug finds a spot on her kitchen shelf, your books line the living room walls alongside hers, and the faint scent of your perfume lingers in her bedroom.

Nicholas adjusts effortlessly, almost as if he’d been waiting for this to happen all along. The three of you settle into a domesticity that feels natural, filled with laughter, shared meals, and quiet moments.

Even Rio seems unbothered when she comes to pick Nicholas up on the weekends. She exchanges polite words with you, her demeanor perfectly cordial, before whisking him away for their outings. 

Whatever tension you’d feared never materializes, leaving you to wonder if Agatha had talked to her privately or if Nicholas, in his own way, had smoothed the path between you.

On Saturday mornings, Nicholas claims the kitchen as his domain, declaring himself “Head Pancake Chef” as you and Agatha lounge at the table, sipping coffee and exchanging amused glances while he works.

In the evenings, after Nicholas has gone to bed, the two of you often find yourselves curled up together on the couch, her arm draped lazily over your shoulders as you share quiet conversation, watch a movie or simply sit in comfortable silence.

Every day, every moment, strengthens the sense that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Yet, for months, you’ve held onto your old apartment, keeping it as a safety net—a place to retreat to if things fell apart, if Agatha ever grew tired of you, if it all turned out to be too good to be true. 

You’d told yourself it was practical, that it didn’t mean anything. But deep down, you’d known it was fear keeping you tethered to the space.

One random evening, everything changes.

It’s late, and the house is quiet. You and Agatha are curled up on the couch, one arm draped around your shoulders as you trace lazy circles on the back of her hand. There’s an ease between you, the kind that has grown naturally over the months.

Out of nowhere, she murmurs, “I love you.”

The words land softly but powerfully, knocking the air from your lungs. 

You freeze, your hand stilling on hers as your mind races. For a brief moment, you think you’ve imagined it, your own thoughts playing tricks on you.

But then you glance up, and she’s watching you. Her expression is open yet achingly vulnerable, her lips slightly parted as if she’s bracing herself for your reaction, the faintest flush coloring her cheeks.

Agatha Harkness, who exudes confidence and poise in every other moment, suddenly looks almost shy.

Your heart swells, the response spilling out without hesitation. “I love you too, Agatha. So much.”

Her eyes widen briefly before a slow, radiant smile spreads across her face, lighting her up in a way you’ve never seen before.

She leans in, her movements deliberate yet tender, and when her lips meet yours, it’s as if the world tilts on its axis.

The kiss starts soft, her lips warm and gentle against yours. But it deepens quickly, her hand coming up to cradle the side of your face, her thumb brushing your cheek.

You feel her smile against your lips, a small, unguarded curve that sends warmth flooding through you. When she finally pulls back, her forehead rests lightly against yours, her hand lingering on your cheek as if she’s reluctant to let go. 

Her eyes search yours, glowing with a mix of joy and relief, and you realize that this moment, this love, is as real as it gets.

The next morning, you list your apartment for sale.

Weeks later, it sells, and it’s time to clear it out for good. Agatha insists on coming with you to help despite your protests that there isn’t much left to do, since most of your things had already made their way to her house when you moved in.

Together, you sift through the last remnants of your belongings—forgotten trinkets in the back of drawers, mismatched furniture that doesn’t fit anywhere anymore, and boxes filled with things you can’t remember why you kept.

As you bend down to pick up one of the boxes, you feel the weight of her gaze on you. By the time you straighten, she’s right there—closer than she was a moment ago—her hand curling possessively around your waist, her presence electric.

“What if…” she murmurs, her lips grazing your ear as her fingers slide to the small of your back, “We give this place a proper send-off.”

Before you can respond, her mouth is on yours, claiming and insistent. The kiss is searing, a collision of teeth and tongues that leaves you breathless as she presses you back against the nearest wall.

“Agatha—fuck!” you gasp as her hands wander, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her. “We’re supposed to be clearing out, not—” your voice falters as her lips graze your neck, stealing your train of thought entirely.

“Oh, we will.” she purrs, her voice dripping with wicked intent. “After.”

What follows is nothing short of ruinous. She doesn’t just touch you—she consumes you, her hands, mouth, and body working in perfect, devastating harmony to claim every inch of you.  

She starts in the kitchen, bending you over the counter with a commanding ease that makes your breath hitch. Her nails dig into your hips as her fingers slide into you, relentless and thorough, her mouth hot and demanding against your neck. The slick sound of her movements mixes with the sharpness of your cries, echoing off the bare walls as her pace quickens, leaving you breathless and clawing for the edge.

In the living room, she pushes you down onto the couch—the same one where you once sat alone, overthinking everything. Now, it’s where she strips you bare and buries her head between your thighs, her tongue working with maddening precision. She doesn’t stop, even as your hips buck against her mouth, her grip on your thighs unrelenting. When you fall apart, her name breaking from your lips, she takes it all, her smirk sinful as she looks up, licking her lips like she’s savoring every second.

Even the bedroom—now a sparse, nearly empty space that offers no distractions—doesn’t escape her attention. She pins you to the mattress with a ferocity that leaves no doubt as to who you belong to, her name a broken mantra on your lips as her pace builds, her body pressing against yours in a way that demands surrender. Her fingers push you over the edge again and again, each climax leaving you trembling and weak, her breath hot on your skin as she praises you through the haze of pleasure.

By the time she’s done with you, every surface bears the evidence of her passion, and you’re left spent, boneless, and utterly wrecked in her arms.

Later, as you sit on the floor together eating takeout amidst the remaining boxes, she looks over at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So…” she says, her voice a lazy drawl. “Think you’ll miss this place?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you lean into her side. “Not even a little.”

Because your home isn’t a space anymore—it’s her.

Exactly one year after that Sunday morning when everything changed, you find yourself reflecting on how far you’ve come.

It’s Friday night and you’re sitting at a cozy restaurant, the golden glow of candlelight reflecting off Agatha’s beautiful features. Her hand brushes against yours on the table, her touch as natural and grounding as the rhythm of your breaths.

Fridays used to be a minefield, an endless loop of questions you were too afraid to ask, feelings you didn’t dare name. You remember those nights vividly, steeped in quiet agony, where every thought, every fleeting moment tied to Agatha—her voice, her gaze, her very presence—was laced with an ache so consuming it felt impossible to escape. 

At times, you can still taste the bitter certainty that nothing you longed for could ever be within reach. Looking back, though, you almost laugh. 

Agatha had nearly driven you insane with her looks, her touches, her maddeningly unreadable smirks. You’d been so sure you were imagining it all, you’d almost lost your mind trying to figure her out.

But now, Fridays have transformed into something else entirely. They’ve become a ritual of joy and love.

They’re your nights. Date nights. Moments stolen just for the two of you while Nicholas stays with Rio or a babysitter. Whether it’s a fancy dinner in the city or a quiet evening at home, these Fridays are sacred.

You glance across the table at Agatha, who’s sipping her wine, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

Her smirk curls in that way you know will always make your stomach flip, no matter how many times you see it. But there’s a softness behind it now, a tenderness she doesn’t bother hiding anymore.

“What’s that look for?” she asks, her voice low and familiar, the sound of it wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

You smile, bliss flooding your chest. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes in mock disbelief, but the way her thumb strokes the back of your hand betrays her. 

“You’re insufferable.” she mutters, though her tone holds no bite.

“And yet…” you tease, leaning forward slightly, your voice dipping conspiratorially, “Here we are.”

Her lips twitch as though she’s fighting a full smile, and for a moment, you both laugh, the kind of easy, unguarded laughter that fills every quiet corner of your heart.

And as you sit there, her hand in yours and the echoes of your journey fading into the warmth of the present, a quiet certainty blooms within you: you can’t wait to see where this love leads.

[olderthannetfic]

I wish AO3 had a filter for number of Chapters. Word count is great and all but I just can't read one chapter that's 17k (or more!) words long. I need it broken up into chapters.

First and foremost, its easier to keep track of my place. I need to take breaks while reading, if I have to leave the page open it drains the power on my phone, but if I close the browser I lose my place and have to scroll through half the fic to find it again. Its so frustrating I'd rather just quit the fic.

Secondly, it makes it easier to keep track of what's happened. Especially if it is a long fic that the reader has to take frequent breaks (or go to sleep/work/school/etc.). Breaking it up into chapters helps readers find sections in case they need to go back and reread something before they can continue.

Anyway, I don't even click on fics that are just one chapter (I refuse to call them one-shots) that should be multi-chapter fics. You could have written the next Lord of the Rings for all I care. You fic won't get read.

I wish I could filter them out of my searches so I don't even have to see them.

--

Anon...

First, get an ebook reader.

Second, the syntax for chapters is:

expected_number_of_chapters: 1

expected_number_of_chapters: >1

-expected_number_of_chapters: 1

etc.

[alive-gh0st]

Hello, Hello, Hello! I love the layout of your tumblr page! Absolutely stunning! I hope you’re doing well, darling! May I request something?

A Cupid reader x Omi-Mark Grayson. I would love to see the difference in personality. Maybe, Reader is excitingly telling Omi-Mark about all the couples, they’ve gotten together and Omi-Mark chuckles? Or perhaps, a simple Cupid Reader struck themselves with their own arrow and is yearning for Omi-Mark and he finally gives in? I would just love to see their contrast!

ପ(੭ ´ᵕ`)੭°• જ⁀➴

HELLO??? First of all—thank you for complimenting my layouts.ᐟ.ᐟ They take approximately 13 years off my lifespan because yes, I do all of it on my phone. With my fingers. Like a feral graphic design cryptid with a god complex.

Second—this ask appeared in my inbox like a glitter bomb full of rogue heartstrings.ᐟ.ᐟ and I am obsessed.

„Omni!Mark x Cupid!Reader”??? That concept is so deliciously insane (in the best way) it deserves its own zip code.

And YES you may request something.ᐟ.ᐟ I adore when people throw ideas my way—and let me bring them to life. Again „Omni!Mark x Cupid!Reader”??????? genius. iconic. a duality so sharp it could cut drywall.

Reader accidentally love-arrowing herself??? Omni-Mark being all stoic and meanwhile Cupid Reader is literally clutching her chest like “why is my heart doing jazz hands??”—oh i am so into this.

Also—love when people give lil extras about what they’re envisioning—it helps me build the vibe, moodboard, and maybe a shrine (casual). honored to take this on. BRB, channeling Cupid via caffeine and delusion.

Just a heads up—it might take a little time to write and post it because I’m currently buried under a small avalanche of fic drafts. But I will write it. Your idea lives rent-free in my heart now.

You’re stuck with me. 𝔁𝓸𝔁𝓸

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

❝Hearts Don’t Miss❞

Omni!Mark Grayson x Cupid!Reader➶

HAS OFFICIALLY LANDED FROM THE STARS!!!

•♡🤍♡🤍♡🤍♡˚₊‧ ꒰ა 💗 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚♡🤍♡🤍♡🤍♡•

SO SORRY for the wait—turns out Cupid wings don’t grow back overnight (tragic, I know). Between threading timelines and re-editing until my drafts cried for mercy, this one took a second. But! It’s finally stitched and sealed with divine ache and stardust.

IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! It’s soft. It’s sharp. It’s 4.4k+ words of grief-glittered lore, a bruised god, a wingless love-agent, emotional inertia, cracked hearts, and maybe—just maybe—a red string starting to twitch.

Huge love-arrow shoutout to @lycheee-jelly for planting this idea straight into my writer brain like a rogue dart to the soul (Cupid-style).

You have absurdly good taste and a terrifying understanding of duality. I owe you a field of wildflowers and an emotional support arrow.

Let me know what you think! I’ll be floating in a lace-threaded cloud of feelings (and probably dreaming up Chapter 1).

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

a/n: it’s happening. ”Hearts Don’t Miss” (Omni!Mark Grayson x Cupid!Reader) is officially being written! our favorite grumpy viltrumite is about to get emotionally steamrolled by a love-coded chaos alien entity with wings, and honestly? he deserves it. and—plot twist—it might spiral into a multi-chapter series. accidentally. maybe. probably. I’m just saying… the red string is getting longer. stay tuned.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌With Love, @alive-gh0st

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

Please make this into a fic au idea. A world where couples take on a third partner that is basically a stay at home spouse as a show of their wealth or success. This would either be with Becky and Seth or Brandi and Cody and it could easily be a Yandere sort of thing

Take Care Of You

Summary: In a desperate attempt to pay off your crushing debt you sign up for a new program that matches you with wealthy couples looking for a third.

An: this idea has been in my head since wrestlemania this year, and I’m planing on it being a multi chapter fic. People said they wanted this with Cody and Brandi, but I’d be willing to do versions with other wrestling couples(Seth and Becky, miz and maryse, Mox and Renne, Brit and Adam, etc)

Warnings: Yandere, Yandere!Cody and Brandi, sort of sexism but only to reader, they treat readers like she’s meant to be a homemaker but don’t think women in general should be, classism, controlling behavior, money abuse, they’re daughter Liberty is a baby in this, fem!reader, power imbalance

Taglist: @melissahausen @writtingrose @peachmango-kombucha @xkennyxomegax @fiskers7136 @bellalutionn @tummyyellin @thesusbunny

“God damnit…” you mumbled as you pulled yet another bill out of your small mailbox slot. It seemed like every time you checked your mail all you found were these stupid red envelopes telling you you needed to pay for something else.

You made your way up the two flights of stairs to your tiny one bedroom apartment, leaning back against the door to shut it. Your feet hurt from your 12 hour shift at the restaurant, you were sticky from spilling shit on yourself all day, and you desperately wanted to collapse in your bed before you have to be up on 5 hours for a shift at your second job of a local coffee shop, but you needed to shower first.

You walked over to the table, tossing your purse onto the couch and planing on tossing the bills into the already large pile of them, but stopped when you noticed another envelope you hadn’t read down in the lobby. A part of you wanted to ignore it, if it was another bill you could at least act like you didn’t see it, but it looked slightly different than the normal things you got. The envelope was a cream color and had a logo you didn’t recognize on it. The main thing you noticed about it was that your address and name and everything was handwritten.

You set the other stuff down and opened the envelope. Inside was a hand written letter.

Dear, Y/n L/n

Thank you so much for your interest in our program. After careful consideration we are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted! Please call the following number to schedule a consultation to begin the next steps.

Sincerely, Coast Connection Agency

Coast connection agency? You stared at the letter for a moment before it clicked in your head what exactly you were looking at. Months ago, probably 6 months ago, you had gone searching on the internet for any way to earn some extra money and you found this website. It was a new program, only a few years old and was extremely selective, but its purpose was to connect well off couples with a third partner. From what you read it was a bit like a sugar daddy/mommy situation, but the couples were…rich rich. The website said up front that NDA’s would be signed and that the relationship would be, on some level, a business deal.

If you were smart, you would have ignored the website completely. It was one of those ‘to good to be true’ things, or something you sign up for and end up on the news because you went missing, but you had been so desperate. You had just lost one of your jobs, behind on bills, house completely barren of food, and nothing but an overdraft fee in your account, so you took the chance and signed up. There had been application after application, most of it asking you about your financial issues and job history, you even had to take a personality test, and apparently you had done okay because you had made the cut.

At the bottom on the letter was a phone number, and with the letter was a pamphlet of reviews from others who had done it. Most of the reviews were positive, talking about how it helped them get out of debt and completely changed their way of life. One even claimed it helped him find his ‘soul mates’ and that he was so happy with the couple he was matched with. You didn’t necessarily believe in soulmates, and even if you did you highly doubted that they could be found in a relationship like this. But you couldn’t argue with the results, people seemed to be happy with what they got from the agency, maybe this was the step for you to take. You decided to call tomorrow after your shifts and pinned the paper to your fridge before slugging off to shower and finally get some sleep.

***************

“…and we have one final question for you, Ms. L/n,” the woman on the other end of the phone told you. You’d been on the call for three hours now, answering what felt like a hundred questions. When you’d called a week ago they had said you’d need to block out a large chunk of time for the phone interview, but you hadn’t expected it to be this long. You also were slightly surprised by the questions. They were all about your preferences in the relationship if they found you a couple. They asked about spending habits, restaurants you liked, if your drank, clothes you liked, brands you enjoyed, past relationships, what you would do in certain situations, if you’d be open to sex in the relationship, and everything else under the sun. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting but this wasn’t it.

“Okay,” you waited a moment for her to ask her question.

“Would you be willing to relocate for the relationship?”

You didn’t answer immediately, and your eyes drifted outside. You lived in a relatively small town, in one of the only apartment complexes they had. It was about three hours from where you grew up, and you had moved here for an old ex. The only reason you stayed was because it was too expensive to move again, leaving you feeling trapped in this town.

“…yes.”

“Wonderful! I think we have enough information to create a profile for you, and we will match you with a couple as soon as we can. Results will be emailed to you, but we always warn that the couple must approve the match before it’s sent to you and we cannot guarantee that a match will be made, so you understand?”

”yeah. I’m mean, yes, I understand,” you nodded though she couldn’t actually see you.

“Perfect. You have a wonderful rest of your day ma’am.”

“You too,” you said before the phone disconnected.

*************

You couldn’t believe it. You got a match.

After your interview you didn’t hear from anyone for two months, and you started to worry that you made a mistake. Luckily, they hadn’t taken any super personal info so you wouldn’t be completely screwed, but after the interview questions they knew a hell of a lot about you, which is what worried you. But one morning you happened to check your email and found one from the company.

Congratulations! You have been matched with a couple! Attached to the email is a photo and some basic information. If you would like to continue with the process please email back immediately.

You quickly opened the attachment and were met with a photo of what had to be the most picture perfect couple. It was a man and a woman, both dressed formally (it looked like they were at some sort of dinner party.) The man had bleached blond hair and what looked like a tattoo on his neck, though his head was turned in just a way that you couldn’t quite see it. The woman looked like the pinnacle of beauty. Her hair and make up was perfect, and her eyes had a shine on them that made them look like pools of honey.

You weren’t really sure how long you stared at the photo, it was so mesmerizing. They were both very athletic looking, muscles evident on both making you think they must do something in the health industry. It was also evident that they had quite a bit of money. From the clothing to the accessories and the food on the table in front of them, it all screamed luxury. You hadn’t worked at a lot of fancy restaurants but the meal in front of them probably cost more than your paycheck.

Next, you moved onto the written information. There wasn’t a tone, just a few snippets of their life and what they wanted out of the relationship. They were from Atlanta Georgia and want someone willing to come live there. They had a daughter, but no info about her was there. They are looking for someone who would take on house hold responsibilities and have a sexual relationship with both of them. You’d never thought of yourself as a homemaker, and children never felt like something that was on the table for you, but you didn’t hate the idea. And honestly, the idea that these two very attractive people had chosen you was a bit of an ego booster. You were good enough to get their attention.

You read over everything one more time before deciding to go for it. You typed up an email and sent it before you could chicken out. You had said you were interested in moving forward and at least meeting the couple. At the very bottom of the email they sent you was the names of the couple. Brandi and Cody Rhodes.

*****************

Unknown: hello

You frowned down at the message as you walked out of your shift for the night. You’d closed so you hadn’t had a chance to check your phone for a while, the message was sent hours ago.

Um, hello? Who is this?

You were shocked when the person responded almost immediately.

Unknown: sorry, should have introduced myself. It’s Cody, from the website. We got the green light to reach out to you

You stared at the message, shocked for a moment. It was him, the cute guy from the email. He was texting you, right now. You were stood still on the sidewalk when three little dots popped up as he continued to type.

Unknown: this is y/n l/n, right?

oh! Yes, it is. Sorry I didn’t answer sooner, I just finished my shift

You panicked slightly at the fact that you hadn’t responded sooner. What if he thought you weren’t serious about what was happening? If he thought you were rude and didn’t want to talk to you any more? Rich people can be so hard to predict when it comes to what will or won’t offend them.

Unknown: oh, are you heading home? We could talk when you get back home, I don’t want to keep you out longer than you need to be.

You sent a last message saying it’d take not be about 10 minutes before booking it home. You didn’t have a car and your town didn’t really have public transportation, the best was a bus that stopped rides at 5pm, so that meant you were basically running back to your apartment. Once you got there you were quickly getting up to yours and pulling your phone out again to add the number as a contact.

You: Okay. Im Home

Cody: good to know you made it back safely.

Cody: I have my wife Brandi here too. We wanted to get a conversation started since you said you were interested

You’re nervous we’re going crazy as you read over the messages. It’s seemed so weird, you were talking to some rich couple you’d never met before but they wanted to pay for you to live. Not only that, but also have a relationship with you. You almost felt… dirty when you thought about it.

You: it’s nice to meet you both

Cody: we’d like to cut to the chase, we are looking to get into something slightly quickly. We don’t want to rush you at all but we’d like to meet as soon as possible

You hesitated at his message. Should that be a red flag? They want to meet even though this is the first time you’ve ever spoken.

Cody: We’d be willing to pay for you to come out to Atlanta to meet. We’d pay for everything like the flight, hotel, food, even whatever you’d be missing out on from work.

You: I don’t want to seem rude or anything, but this is the first time we’ve ever spoken

When he didn’t respond immediately your heart sank. You shouldn’t have said that, god, why were you so stupid?

Cody: we understand your hesitation, we’ve just have been looking for a while

Cody: would you like to FaceTime? Then you could at least see that we’re who we say we are

You: um, sure. Just a warning, I’m a mess. I just got off shift.

Only seconds later the call for the video chat popped up on your phone. You took a second to take a deep breath and then pushed accept.

The man from the original photo you’d been set popped up on the screen. He was sat back on a couch wearing a sweats and a teeshirt, and next to him was the woman who was dressed similarly. After a second both smiled at you.

“Hi,” Cody greeted.

“Hi…” you gave a nervous wave which you immediately regretted. God, why were you being so awkward?

“You look pretty good for just getting off a shift.” You blushed slightly at his words and watched as his wife smacked him gently.

“Ignore him, he’s a flirt,” Brandi told you. “He doesn’t think about the fact that this may be awkward for you.”

You laughed slightly nervously but gave a little smile. The rest of the conversation got a little less awkward as you got to know each other. Most of the conversation was about you, them asking what you did full time and what you spent your free time doing. They were…nice, and they clearly loved each other in the way that they interacted.

“So, we’d really like to meet you in person.” Brandi finally said. “Like Cody told you we can pay for your whole trip and we can start to get to know each other better.”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to take your money if we don’t even know if it’s gonna work.” You admitted.

“It’s really not that much to pay for a trip, and it would be no strings attached. You could decide to not do anything and we won’t be angry.” Cody assured you. “We just think it would be important for us to talk in person. We travel for work but will be home for the week next week, we’d like to do it then.”

You bit your lip as you thought about the offer. You felt a little guilty about taking money, but a part of you loved the idea of being able to take a week of work and go on a trip without being worried about bills.

“Um… okay.”

Both of them smiled at your answer. “Perfect. We’ll get everything lined up and payed for!” Brandi excitedly said. “Do you have any preferences on what hotel you stay in or what airline you take?”

You shook your head. “It’s your money, it’s up to you.”

“Okay, we can talk about it more tomorrow, I assume you’re tired after your shift.”

You all said goodbye before hanging up and getting ready to go to sleep. As you brushed your teeth you realized that you felt slightly giddy after the conversation. It was like a school girl crush, they were nice and you felt good talking to them.

As you got into bed your phone pinned and you reached over to check it. It showed a notification from PayPal, someone had sent you $200 and you had a message from Cody.

Cody: enjoy a day off sometime

[demonscantgothere]

Helholden's Masterlist of Haladriel Fics:

I have written dozens of fics for The Rings of Power, featuring Haladriel, under the pen name Helholden, so here is a nice, neat masterlist of all of them in one place.

Epic Multi-chapters:

❀ Litost. Canon-divergence fic set decades after the events of S1 & S2. Sauron thrives in Númenor as the High Priest when Galadriel is taken prisoner, and they are reunited on the eve of disaster. Together, they re-establish themselves in Pelargir, creating Gondor with the help of Elendil and his Men, but deceit and lies run deep and the truth will out. 276k. Ongoing.

❀ Beasts of the Hill and Serpents of the Den. Alternate Universe set in the First Age. The War of Wrath changes course. Instead of sending his wolves out to kill Finrod after capturing Felagund in his dungeons, Sauron demands an exchange for his life. Galadriel offers herself. 214k. Ongoing.

❀ Though the Gods and the Years Relent, Shall Be. After the final Breaking of the World when existence is remade by its creator Eru Ilúvatar, second chances are possible. Artanis meets Mairon and keeps coming by to visit him throughout the years. They develop a fast friendship, but it is hard to remain just friends. 25k. Complete.

❀ The Greatest Slavery. Dead Dove. Celeborn is Sauron's prisoner. If Galadriel wants her husband returned to her alive, there are terms. Many years later, Sauron comes back for his daughter, Celebrían. 48k. Complete.

❀ Symbiosis. Modern AU. Galadriel goes out drinking after a bad breakup, and Halbrand shows up to put all the pieces back together. 77k. Complete.

Completed One-shots and Short Stories:

❀ In the Golden Vein of All Your Broken Promises. It's a threesome fic with Galadriel, Annatar, and Celeborn. Pure smut. 15k.

❀ Jewel Spoilt. A tale inspired by The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty with Galadriel as Beauty and Sauron as the one to break the curse Morgoth has lain upon her. 15k.

❀ Crown, and Caress Thee, and Chain. Galadriel says yes, becoming his Dark Queen. Sauron transmutes her into a god in the fires of Mount Doom instead of creating the One Ring. 11k.

❀ Maybe You Were the Ocean, When I Was Just a Stone. A series of one-shots written for RoP Week 2023 featuring various relationships. 11k.

❀ À Côté de la Plaque. Another threesome fic, only this time it's Galadriel, Halbrand, and Bronwyn with a surprise entrance from Arondir. 10k.

❀ Light Weight. A story of Mairon and Artanis told in seven parts, spanning over thousands of years from their very first meeting in Valinor to the Sundering Seas — a tale of touch, obsession, and addiction. 9k.

❀ Heart of Gold. They bang on Celebrimbor's large anvil table, Your Honor. 6k.

❀ An Inexorable Fate. My very first Haladriel fic ever written that started all of this. Halbrand struggles to tell Galadriel how he feels after the eruption of Mount Doom. 5k.

❀ Abundance. Written for an anonymous tumblr prompt that wanted a take on Halbrand’s reaction to seeing Galadriel in the green dress in Eregion for the first time. 5k.

❀ Bite Hard, Lest Remembrance Come After. Galadriel and Halbrand take what moments of reprieve they can behind Celeborn’s back. Always wanting, but never quite together in whole. 4k.

❀ Mortal Laws. Galadriel says yes during Episode 8, "Alloyed." 3k.

❀ Just Deserts. After Sauron's successful assault on Eregion, Celeborn and Galadriel are both his prisoners along with the rest of the city. It's another threesome fic. Enjoy. 3k.

❀ Daughter of Death. ASOIAF crossover. Dany seeks out a sorcerer to help her preserve the life of her baby. The only sorcerer here, the red priestesses whisper, who could cheat death. 3k.

❀ With Music That Scares the Profane. Halbrand wakes up in Eregion for the first time. 3k.

❀ Twain Halves of a Perfect Heart, Made Fast. A child Artanis meets a child Mairon, only he is not an Elf like her. He is a Maia, and he hasn't been on this plane of existence for very long, nor had a body for very long. Artanis teaches him a few things—like friendship. 2k.

❀ Queen of Love and Beauty. A child Artanis reunites with a child Mairon at a festival for Vána the Ever-young and Queen of Flowers in Valmar. 2k.

❀ And I'll Ask for the Sea. The infamous bath!fic. 2k.

❀ It’s the Last Thing I Wanted (It’s the First Thing I Do). Mairon and Artanis during the Years of the Trees. 1k.

❀ Green-Eyed Fallacy. On the eve of the Sack of Eregion, Halbrand tries to reason with Galadriel once more before the war. Only now, it’s too late. 1k.

Completed Dead Dove:

❀ Eyes Closed. Morgoth Bauglir returns from beyond The Void, and draws his wayward servant, Sauron, back under his thumb with the one temptation he can't deny—his Lady of Light, Galadriel. 10k.

❀ Into the Light of the Dark Black Night. Modern AU. He winds their fingers together, holds her hand like a lover that has never caused her harm. Their rings are cold side by side. Metal against metal. A binding link holding them together against her will. 8k.

❀ Dark, Dark My Light, and Darker My Desire. In which Artanis thinks Mairon is her rescuer, but it couldn't be further from the truth. 18k.

❀ Vestige. He wants her for her power. He never wanted her for her love. 3k.

[panerasbox]

ε❤︎︭з Principal Problems

Enemies to lovers • Slow burn • Abbott Elementary (Ava Coleman x Fem!Reader)

On your first days as Melissa’s aide, you face Abbott’s chaos and Ava Coleman’s relentless teasing, trying to prove you can handle the job while Ava seems determined to get under your skin.

a/n: this will be a multi-chapter fic! each chapter comes with its own content warnings, so check accordingly! thanks :] oh! and I decided to create a schedule for this fic. A new chapter of Principal Problems will be out every friday!

MASTERLIST

Chapter One (word count: 1,108)

Your first day as Melissa Schemmenti’s new aide is going about as well as you could expect for Abbott Elementary: absolute chaos in a cute building that smells like old textbooks and overworked cleaning supplies.

You stand at the door, clutching a tote bag full of sticky notes, pencils, and your best intentions.

Inside, Melissa is already barking at a pair of second graders who tried to claim they “accidentally” glued their worksheet to the floor.

She glances up, eyes narrowing with suspicion that eases only slightly when she remembers you exist.

“You. Come in. Don’t just hover like a lost puppy.”

You step in quickly.

“Sorry. Good morning. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You work for me now. Interrupt away.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Set your stuff over there.”

You nod and hustle to the small corner desk Melissa has begrudgingly cleared. It’s piled with half empty coffee cups and a suspiciously ancient pencil sharpener.

Melissa runs you through “orientation” in five minutes flat.

“I don’t do corporate training crap,” she says, handing you a stack of attendance sheets. “Don’t let the kids smell fear. Don’t promise them anything. And don’t waste my Sharpies.”

“Got it.”

“If you’re not sure what to do, ask me.”

“Okay.”

“If I’m busy, figure it out.”

You blink. “So… ask or figure it out?”

Melissa squints. “Good. You’re listening. You’ll be fine.”

You’re about to thank her when someone else barrels into the room without knocking.

Ava’s voice precedes her like a fanfare.

“Schemmenti! I need to borrow…”

She stops short when she sees you.

Dark eyes sweep you from head to toe, assessing, amused.

“Oh. Who’s this? New recruit for the failing army?”

Melissa crosses her arms. “My new aide. Don’t start.”

Ava’s grin widens.

“Aide? As in teacher’s pet?”

Your face burns. “Excuse me?”

Ava raises her eyebrows at your tone, like she wasn’t expecting pushback.

“Ooooh. She talks back. That’s new. Usually they just cry and quit.”

“I’m not planning to do either.”

She looks delighted.

“We’ll see.”

Melissa pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Get lost, Ava. She doesn’t need your crap on day one.”

Ava ignores her. She’s locked onto you like a cat with a laser pointer.

“Where’d they find you? Craigslist? Or did you volunteer at a puppy shelter and they said, ‘Hey, try wrangling kids instead’?”

“I applied. I’m qualified. And I’m busy, actually.”

You make a show of shuffling the attendance sheets.

Ava makes a small, impressed face.

“Wow. She pretends to work. Adorable.”

Melissa shoves a folder at you.

“Go put this in the main office. Now.”

You snatch it and head for the door, pushing past Ava. She doesn’t move.

“Try not to get lost, sweetheart,” she calls after you.

You flip her the most professional glare you can manage over your shoulder.

“Principal Coleman,” you correct stiffly.

Ava’s grin doesn’t budge.

“Aw. Respectful and mouthy. I’m gonna have fun with you.”

You practically stomp down the hall, your heart pounding.

The walls are lined with crayon masterpieces and anti bullying posters that feel like the universe mocking you.

“Great start,” you mutter.

You’ve only been here an hour, and the principal is apparently determined to make you quit.

When you come back to Melissa’s room, she’s sitting at her desk, grading with one hand and sipping coffee with the other.

“She’s always like that,” she says without looking up.

“She’s… impossible.”

“Eh. You get used to her.”

You drop into your tiny corner chair. “I don’t want to ‘get used’ to someone insulting me.”

Melissa snorts.

“Means she likes you.”

You stare at her.

“That was liking me?”

“You’re still here, aren’t you? She usually scares ‘em off before lunch.”

You’re not sure that’s comforting.

Melissa sets down her pen.

“Look, kid. You wanna last here? Don’t let her see you squirm. She’s like a shark. She’ll circle you forever if you show weakness.”

“What if I’m just… not good at this?”

“You’re fine. You’re already better than half the district.”

“High bar.”

“Lower than you think.”

You let out a weak laugh.

“You’ll be okay,” she says, voice lower, more sincere. “As long as you don’t let her run you out.”

Two Days Later…

Your third morning at Abbott, you’re fifteen minutes early because you want to make a good impression.

You let yourself into Melissa’s room quietly. She’s not even there yet.

You figure you’ll start by organizing the overflowing bookshelf she cursed about yesterday.

You’re on your knees sorting battered Junie B. Jones copies into piles when you hear slow, exaggerated clapping behind you.

“Wow. Look at this. Abbott’s newest unpaid intern really wants that gold star, huh?”

You jolt, nearly dropping a whole stack of books.

Ava’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, looking delighted.

“Principal Coleman,” you grind out. “Good morning.”

“It really is, now that I get to watch you alphabetize like your life depends on it.”

“I’m organizing so Melissa can actually find books.”

“Bold of you to assume Schemmenti can read.”

You let out an unwilling laugh. Ava’s eyes narrow, but not angrily. She looks almost approving.

“Oh no. Don’t start laughing. I’ll lose respect for you immediately.”

“Did you have any to begin with?”

She tilts her head, smiling. “I’m deciding.”

You stand up, brushing off your knees.

“Did you need something? Or just here to supervise my filing?”

Ava steps further in, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

“Honestly? Just making sure you don’t run screaming yet. We have a pool in the office.”

“A pool?”

“Barbara says you’ll last a month. I’m giving you two weeks, max.”

Your jaw drops.

“You’re betting on me failing?”

“Nothing personal.”

“Sure feels personal.”

“Hey, I’m giving you better odds than Jacob gave you. He says you’re out by Friday.”

Your face heats.

“You’re all awful.”

Ava shrugs.

“Welcome to Abbott, babe.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sure thing… teacher’s pet.”

Melissa finally bustles in, coffee in hand. She freezes at the sight of you and Ava facing off.

“What’s going on here?”

“She’s bullying me,” you say flatly.

Ava points at you. “She’s sassing her principal.”

Melissa groans.

“Jesus. It’s too early for this. Both of you, shut it.”

You glare at Ava. She grins.

“See you around, alphabetizer,” she singsongs, sauntering out.

Melissa sighs deeply.

“Don’t let her get to you, kid.”

“She’s trying to get to me.”

“Yeah.” Melissa actually smiles. “Means you’re worth the effort.”

You blink.

“Congratulations,” she deadpans. “You’re officially interesting to Ava Coleman.”

You collapse into your chair, head in your hands.

You’re not sure if that’s the worst news you’ve ever heard, or the most promising.

[choccy-milky]

When are you making the next chapterrrr? I love ur book so much!! 🥰

aw TYY!! itll definitely be up by this weekend at the latest! im already 18k words in and im not done yet tho, so its gonna be a chonker/might be like 30k LMAO. i dont mind tho, since its the second last chap. I WILL NOT LIMIT MY POWER LEVEL😤

GOOD!!! tbh the name of my fic is the thing i regret most, i gave it absolutely 0 thought when i first published chapter 1 at like 3 in the morning before immediately going to bed LMFAOO. raven and the snek is the new official name

BAHAHAHA UNFORTUNATELY THERE'LL BE NO MORE SMUT since theres only 2 chaps left..... but i DO want to draw that eventually, rest assured🤭 and TYSM!!💖💖💖im glad u like my fic so much and im honoured its your fav🧎‍♀️😭

@loving-him-was-red13 LMFAO GOOD....you're turning into the 'everywhere i go, i see his face' meme, just as planned😈😈 (also i have totally considered redrawing that one on the right as clora and seb....u get me🤝🤝

BAHAHA @fitzs-trained-monkey YOU TOO, WE LOVE TO SEE IT. omg ur so right tho, these can be clora and sebs fursonas!!!😻😻😻😻

@multi-fandom-imagine aw tysm!!😭💖im glad you like my content💖💖💖

@romilimon "when i found that artist for the first time" TOTALLY TRANSLATED THAT MYSELF AND DIDNT USE GOOGLE TRANSLATE, ARENT I AMAZING💃😍 (but aww TYYY...im glad i could make your laptop glow with the light of the heavens🥹💖)

@lovesicklovermia I dont, considering seb is already realistic looking in the game and i just base my drawings on him but aged up. i do think it would be cool to find an actor that looked like how i draw him, tho, so that i could use him as a ref as well LOL. if anyone knows any actors, lmk👀

LMFAO TY FOR THE INFORMATION UR DOING GODS WORK🫡🫡you COULD have read it all the day before your flight, though.... just do your best to cram 38 hours of reading into one night!!!easy!!🥰 IM GLAD U COULD DOWNLOAD IT THO and that it gave u something to do during ur flight!! i get you though, i myself also dont like reading fics as theyre coming out bc im too impatient LOL and i like to binge read. BUT HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!💖

[solsticeswackstuff]

Punk! RL!Bela Dimitrescu

This is also an announcement post! I starting writing my first multi-chapter fic! About the AU im this art!

Edit: First chapter up and second chapter is on its way!!!

[rekino2114]

Someone who cared

Eva tsunaka x gn reader

[Spoilers for p:e.g. chapter 1]

A/n:and here is the Eva fic. I hope you enjoyed cause I really loved writing it. It's the happy ending my girl deserves

You were always Eva's anchor.

Your love for her was what grounded her to reality, what allowed her to keep going on in sleepless nights spent studying, through math competition she didn't even care about and in moments where she only wanted to cry in the shower because of situations she wasn't strong enough to handle, she reminded herself that there was someone who loved her because of who she was and not what everyone else thought she was. That there was a person she could always rely on and trust no matter what happened. You made her smile, a genuine pure smile, ever since your first meeting.

When at 5 years old she looked up from her book to see a person holding an ice cream cone to her

"What?"

"It's ice cream! Oh, it's cookies and cream, if you don't like it I can go change it"

".....do we know each other?"

"No but you just looked like you needed ice cream, standing alone reading isn't that fun"

"............"

"Quick! It's gonna melt!"

"O-oh"

She closed the book and grabbed the cone, giving it a lick before looking at you sitting near her on the bench

"Is it good?"

She just nodded and you smiled at her, a smile that made her feel all weird inside

"Oh! I forgot, mom only gave me 5 dollars to buy ice cream"

You pulled out some coins from your pocket and started counting

"One, two,three fo-"

"It's enough"

"Huh?"

"The ice cream cost 2 dollars,you brought two so it's 4"

"Oh you're fast at numbers"

"It's just math, 2 x 2 is 4 simple multiplication"

".....m-multi-what?"

Your confusion made a small smile appear on her face

"Just go to pay before it melts"

"Yeah ok, by the way, what's your name?"

"Eva, Eva tsunaka"

"Oh that's such a cool name"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you evie"

"E-evie?"

"It's a nickname, a name friends call you, do you like it?"

".....so we're friends?"

"Yep,....... oh I guess I should ask you, do you wanna be friends?"

In that moment her soul itself answered and she made the second best decision she ever made in her life

"Yeah, I'd like that"

From that moment on you entered her life and changed it for the better.

It turned out you were going to attend the same elementary school, and since you were already friends, you basically always hung out. Well, it was more like you continued to be near her until she let you read with her at recess, but she wouldn't have it any other way, because whenever you were sick she could feel the difference between reading with someone and just standing under a tree while everyone else played in the grass.

".......how do you say that?"

"What?"

"This word"

You pointed at her book

"Oh its-"

"AHHHHHH!"

Your scream alerted her and she turned to towards you to see you crouching and hugging your legs while pointing at a caterpillar

"I-it's a monster"

"It's just an insect"

"B-but aren't they poisony?"

"It's poisonous and no"

Just as she was about to keep reading, she felt something grip her. Her whole face turned red as you hugged her for protection while muttering something about the monster getting closer. The weird feeling came back. It was somewhere above her tummy, and when she talked about it with her parents as they were putting her to bed, they just laughed between each other and muttered something about her first crush. Of course, at the ripe age of 7, she couldn't understand what that was.

It was some time during middle school that she began understanding her true feelings.

"You take everything that doesn't have an x in it and move it to the right. You also need to change their signs, got it?"

"..........w-what?"

"The positive become negative and the opposite"

You tried to write something before fully giving up and putting your hands over your head

"I don't get it, when did letters make their way in math?"

Your study buddy sighed and took a pen, trying to guide you step by step through the homework

"Can we take a break?"

"Not until you figure it out"

"Please, pretty please with a cherry covered in chocolate on top?"

"No"

"Come on please, we can play super slam sisters"

"Hm?"

You grab a controller and look at her with that smile, that smile that made the feeling come back to her, the feeling that she always had when she was near you, just looking at your smile made it impossible to say no

"Ugh, I guess a couple of rounds can't hurt"

"Yay you're the best evie"

You hugged her, and she felt her face flush red again

"Are you OK? You're so red"

"I-i'm fine let's just play"

"I'm gonna destroy you this time"

"We'll see about that"

You paused the game after the fifth time you lost

"So who was gonna destroy me?"

".......ok ok i admit it...you're really good at this"

Your compliment made her heart beat again, but she put the controller down and turned towards you

"Let's continue studying"

You sighed but nodded and sat in front of the desk again

"OK now do you get it?"

"....i-i think so"

You started writing the solution and Eva looked at it before her face turned into one of surprise

"That's correct good job"

"Yay! Now can we take another break, as a reward?"

"We just had one"

".....alright"

You picked up the pen again but this time started looking at the wall deep in thought

"......thank you"

"For what?"

"A lot of things to be honest, but what I'm talking about now is....helping me"

"With math?"

"Yeah among other things"

"It's nothi-"

"No it is something"

You turned to look at her, your eyes locking with her blue ones

"My parents............they can't afford a tutor, so I decided to ask you, I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm taking advantage of you, but I just really wanna be with you"

"What do you mean?"

"The high school I wanna go to, it's the same as yours"

"Huh?"

"But if I don't have good grades they won't let me in, and......math is a subject I'm not good at"

You looked silently at her before suddenly holding her hands

"I want to stay with you, you're amazing evie, you're so smart and pretty and awesome, I want you to be in my life. So I promise I'll try my best to get good grades, to be with you"

You still have no idea why you said that, and more importantly you still have no idea how your 14 year old mind still didn't understand that maybe you felt something more than friendship for the back and white haired girl. But if you could go back, you'd say the exact same thing, not only because that's exactly how you felt but also because of what happened during high school.

Eva couldn't handle it anymore, the feeling in her chest she learned to call love was growing more and more with every day you spent together, with every time she had to remind you to pay attention in class and with every afternoon spent studying and playing slam sisters. She felt like her heart could explode if she didn't do something soon.She needed to do something about it.

But what could she do? Confessing would be very risky, if you didn't feel the same, it would have genuinely destroyed her, not only because you wouldn't be dating but mostly because she knew that no matter how much you tried to fix things and play it off as if nothing happened, your friendship would have never been the same, it would have all felt so awkward and uncomfortable and it would have probably been better to just end your friendship before it became even worse.

She could not handle that. You were her best friend. Her............only friend.

But she also knew better than anyone that if she didn't confess, someone else probably would and seeing you hanging out and kissing someone else while knowing that if she had just been braver that could have been her, would have destroyed her even more.

So she decided to act on valentine's day of your second year of high school.

"So what's with the chocolates?"

Your sudden question makes Eva spit her water

"W-what are you talking about?"

You pulled out the chocolate box with the letter inside

"Only you would do something like this"

You showed her the note which simply said "128√e980"

You unfolded the letter showing that the equation spelled "I love you"

"The chocolate are also my favorite flavors, but the note is the obvious part"

".........I know it's stupid but-"

"It's not stupid, it's pretty cool actually, even if it did take me a while to understand eheh"

Eva looked away embarrassed but quickly grew even more flustered when you held her hands

"But I want you to tell me that you love me"

"I-i just did-"

"No, I want Eva tsunaka to tell me that she loves me, not the mathlete that everyone thinks you are, tell me with your own words, the ones from the bottom of your heart, not numbers. then I can accept"

Eva started sweating, for what reason she doesn't know, maybe her cheeks got so hot that they actually started burning, but she calmed herself and took a deep breath before speaking

"Y-you make my heart beat, I feel all weird when I'm with you, I just want to smile and hug you for no reason, ever since we were kids, I now know what that is, I love you, I can 100% say I love you"

You smiled brightly, and she couldn't help but smile too. You always had this effect on her. She just couldn't help but feel happy with you.

"I love you too, evie, you're the best girl I ever met, and I wanna be with you forever"

You suddenly kissed her, it was a very soft and short kiss, but it still succeeded in making her blush even more than anything that happened before, but still she wanted to feel like this more so she kissed back. And with that she officially became your girlfriend.

She can confidently say that confessing to you was the best decision she ever made. Simply because the years where you two were together were the best of her life.

It was the small things you did for her, those things that made her feel seen and special, something like buying her something for breakfast when she didn't have to eat because she was busy studying, or just listening to her rant about a new ARG she helped solve on the internet.

Even the more embarrassing things like showing up to one of her math competition with a whole banner with a bad but admittedly really cute drawing of her face and her name written with a heart while yelling:

"YEAHHHH! THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND EVERYONE! SHE'S SUPER SMART, DESTROY EVERYONE ELSE EVIE!!!"

Sure, it made her want to die in the moment, but she would definitely be lying if she said it didn't warm her heart knowing that you cared so much about her and about her winning a competition even she didn't really care about

Just like your reaction to her getting her ultimate warmed her heart.

She hated being the ultimate mathlete. The utp just gave her this title without regard to who she really was and who she wanted to be, and she ranted to you about exactly that while cuddling. You just wrapped your arms around her and started comforting her

"Listen, I don't care what others say about you, or what they expect of you, to me you're Eva tsunaka, the amazing girl that i feel in love with, I couldn't care less about your ultimate,that doesn't define you to me and it shouldn't to anyone else. I love you because you're you ok evie?"

She felt her heart beating even faster than when you kissed her. Your words made her feel understood and so, so loved. She really needed someone like you

While she hated her talent, she couldn't deny that the fact that she was glad to have it if only because the utp gave you one too, and you would be attending eden's garden academy together.

"Are you OK evie? You look nervous"

She took a deep breath and sat on the bench in the train station

"......yeah, I guess I'm just worried about what people are gonna think about me"

"You mean your talent?"

She nodded as you sat on her right and held her hand

"If people pick on you because you're good at math, then that just means they're stupid and can't handle that someone is prettier and smarter than them"

"Hehe......thanks, but that's now what I meant"

"I know......then just get to know them"

"Huh?"

"If you get to know more people than they'll know the real you, the amazing girl you really are"

"............"

"Eva listen, I'm saying this as your partner and with nothing but your best interests in mind. I think you need more friends"

".....d-don't-"

"Or at least people to talk to, I know you have me, but I'm scared that I'm not enough, I want you to be happy, ok? So please, at least try, I don't care if you fail, but at least try to let people know that you're not just a mathlete, but a genuinely wonderful person"

Eva sighed and you kissed her cheek for comfort

"........I'll try my best"

"That's what I like to hear. Now get up and grab your luggage the train is almost here"

After the train arrived, you walked in it hand in hand, seeing all the faces of your future classmates. Little did you know that that train was gonna be the boat that would bring you to hell.

You knew Eva was lying about her talent. You knew from the moment the words ultimate liar slipped from her mouth, and you also knew exactly the reason why, she had told you why not that long ago after all. And you respected her choice. You didn't even need to talk to each other to make an agreement, with only a single glance she knew you would protect her secret as long as necessary.

The announcement of the killing game and the mock trial felt like a blur, you helped investigate, mostly convinced by your girlfriend, but you still couldn't believe it, sure the body was just a puppet but it was the recreation of a real murder, someone was killed so brutally, it made you.....sick.

And when the killing game was officially started that sickness spread over your entire body, will someone of your classmates be killed in such a brutal way? Will you? ......will Eva?

When Wolfgang started to speak, you wanted to say something. Sure, it was nice to think that no one was going to murder each other, but you knew it was impossible. You only started to talk when everyone singled out Eva and Damon for speaking their mind. You defended them, obviously. You told them that Eva was right, and even if it was a harsh truth, it still was the truth. After being judged because of that you just hugged Eva and you two went to sleep in her dorm.

The day the infirmary was revealed, Eva's true ultimate was too. You couldn't do anything but the exact same thing you had been doing this entire time, comfort Eva and try to counter your classmates' comments directed at her. You hugged her again, and you could feel how heavy and tired she was, even if she didn't want to let you know, everything that happened was weighing heavily in her mind.

"C-can you come with me?"

"Huh?"

You opened your eyes and looked down at Eva. She was still hugging you, but her eyes were now locked on yours

"Sure"

She guided you to a point in the infirmary and pointed at something

"A......plushie advertisement?"

"Yes, I already showed it to damon"

"......d-do you want me to buy it?"

"H-huh?"

"I thought you already had a plush-"

She blushed and quickly shut you up

"N-no it's not the plushie, it's a code"

"Oh for the door?"

"Duh"

"Did you figure it out yet?"

"...........no"

For the second time in the game, she lied

"Oh, I see, it's alright if you don't, these kidnappers seem really smart"

"........yeah"

"Well, me and Diana wanted to eat together. Do you wanna join us?"

"No it's fine, I'll go take a nap"

"That's understandable after everything that happened, love you"

"Yeah"

You kissed her cheek and started to go outside but stopped and looked back

"Hey Eva?"

"Hm"

"Can I.....tell you something?"

She nodded and you started approaching her

"..........I'm scared"

"Huh?"

"I'm scared that I'll die, that you'll die and that I couldn't do anything about it.....so can you at least promise me something?"

".......o-of course, what is it?"

You put your pinky in the air

"Let's make it a pinky promise"

"......seriously?" That's so dumb"

"Come on, just do it"

She sighed and intertwined her own pinky with yours

"Let's promise each other that we'll never kill someone"

"W-what?"

"I can't do anything if someone decides to kill you, I can only hope no one does, but if you kill someone, then you'll most likely die..........and if you don't-"

"Then you'll die, with everyone else"

"Yeah, so let's promise that we'll never kill anyone, so our chances of survival increase"

The next words she said were the third best choice she did in her life because, like her confession and acceptance of your friendship, her own soul spoke unfiltered by her brain or other emotions

"..........yes, I promise"

"Great! It's a pinky promise, remember. So if you break it your pinki will fall"

She giggled

"I think that will be the last of my concerns if I kill someone"

"Hehe, Yeah I guess you're right"

You kissed Eva on the cheek and went outside, waving at her. She waved back as her smile faded, she looked at her pinky.... and went to her dorm.

She couldn't handle it anymore, the thoughts were eating up her mind, she was going to die, everyone hated her, of course she was going to be the first victim, she would die.......so she needed to do something about it.

She wiped her tears with her sleeve and put her glasses back on, went to the infirmary and found herself face to face with the door.

She imputed the first two numbers automatically almost as if her body moved itself, she was about to imput the third when she actually started thinking

What did she want to gain by going in that room? She didn't even know what was on the other side..........was she just curious?

No, she knew. She knew that whatever she was gonna find would seal her fate, that it would force her to kill someone.......force

It's funny that she used that words in her thoughts, force, like she didn't already knew who to kill and how to do it, like she didn't already know who to frame and how to act in the class trial, like she didn't already look through the infirmary to see if there were hallucinogenics.

She inputted the third number and took a moment to breathe, her hand on her chest.

When she was about to move her finger in the direction of the last panel, she noticed something.

The floor was wet.

She looked down and saw that her shirt was too, not by much, it was when she brushed her hand against her cheek that she realized where the water was coming from.

She was crying.

How did she not realize it all this time? Why was she sad? She had already decided her fate, was she scared of getting found out and dying? she had nothing to live for anyway, everyone in this damn academy hated her, she was going to die anyway and no one was going to care about it, they weren't going to investigate how she died and the person who killed her would probably be cheered as they got executed. There was no one who cared about her, just like in her entire life.......no one cared about the true her.

Her finger grazed the fourth number when she remembered something

"Let's promise that we'll never kill someone"

"I love you because you're you ok evie?"

As soon as those words entered her mind, she just fell down on her knees, her body unable to hold the weight of her conscience anymore. She started crying, this time knowing exactly why.

She was going to betray you. She was willing to let you die just because of something that wasn't even true. You cared about her, the real her, you would have cried if she died, and you would have felt betrayed if she killed someone. You loved her, and she betrayed that love by even thinking about committing the murder. She didn't deserve you, she needed to say sorry to your face.

When she finished crying, she immediately went to your dorm, the knocking woke you up, and you were confused to see that Eva was no longer in bed with you. You were worried, considering that you decided to bunk together, so you carefully opened part of the door and saw it was your girlfriend, you saw that her eyes were red so your worry grew even more, you completely opened the door and Eva immediately tackled you in a hug.

"E-eva, what's-"

"I'm *sobs* so sorry, I'm so so sorry"

You could see she started crying crying, so you held her close and started comforting her, not caring about the tears getting on your shirt.

When she calmed down, she sat on the bed and started explaining everything to you, about how everything was getting to her and drove her to think about killing someone. She expected you to hate her. She was one step away from betraying you and throwing away her life, you were very justified to hate her, to break up with her, as much as she didn't want that to happen.....because then she would have been truly alone.

But you hugged her instead, and told her that it was OK, that the fact that she didn't go through was what mattered, that you would always be there for her, no matter what happened

"N-no you- you don't understand!"

She continued sobbing between words

"I-I was about to kill someone, to break our promise! I was ready to throw away your life because of this game!"

"......................"

"W-why did you forgive me so fast!? Why don't you hate me!?"

"........I could never hate you"

"H-huh?"

"I love you Eva I love you so much, I already told you so many times, I know that in a normal situation you'd never do something like this, I don't hate you, I hate tozu and this game, because I've seen the real you, and the real Eva is a girl that would never commit a murder, I feel in love with you and I could never hate you. I love you Eva, please remember that"

Eva wanted to say something more, but she just felt so tired. She had cried and felt too many emotions for a day, so she just thanked you and held onto your body as you two drifted to sleep.

The next day, she woke up feeling better. The night spent thinking about the situation and waking up next to you made her realize how lucky she was to have you and that she should hold on to you and love you just as much as you did.

After talking it over and getting ready, you two went to the dining room where Cassidy told you she had found a copy of super slam sisters and asked you to participate in a tournament.

"Oh, you love that game, eva . Do you wanna participate together?"

"I.........."

She looked at you smiling so brightly at her........and smiled back

"Yeah, I think having fun is what I need"

"Great! So we have all the couples, get ready cause it will be a blast!"

When the game tournament started, you held Eva's hand as you two watched the other students play.

"OK now it's Eva's and y/n's turn"

"Get ready evie, because this time I'll win!"

She rolled her eyes as she took the controller

"You always say that"

She ended up winning very easily but offered you a kiss as a consolation prince

"Wow that was insane Eva, how did you do that?"

"Oh, it's not that hard. You just have to watch your opponent and move accordingly"

"You gotta teach me that, you might even be able to beat me! Let's train together sometimes, Please?"

"H-huh?"

"And then we could do your make-up, I wanted to hang out with you......i-if you'd like"

"I.....don't think I'd look good with make-up"

She felt you putting your arm on her shoulder

"I think you'd look amazing in any way"

You smiled again and she felt her heart getting warm, not just at you but at the situation in general, she felt seen and understood, and it was all thanks to you, she's so glad she remembered you yesterday.

She looked back at her pinky and then at you, suddenly you felt Eva's arms wrap around you to the surprise of everyone in the room. She simply murmured two words

"Thank you"

You knew exactly why she thanked you, so you just hugged her back until she pulled away and looked at you again.

You cared about her, the real her, you loved her despite everything and she could never imagine a world without you, she could never imagine what she would have done if you weren't there, if you didn't enter her life.

She was so, so glad to have you.