#like it feels good to drop that after using a spell that would make red-eyes unable to attack

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

G!P Kate bishop where the reader surprises her by wearing a maid outfit?

Every girl get's her wish

Paring: afab!reader x amab!Kate

Warnings: SMUT, dom!Kate, sub!reader, amab!Kate, afab!reader, maid costumes, sexual role play, oral (K), unprotected sex, P in V, praise kink, degradation, facials, spanking, aftercare,

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

Masterlist-

It all started with a stupid joke originating from out of all places TikTok. Not to say that Kate was down bad for cosplayers, but in secret she  certainly was after all Kate was nothing short of a massive nerd. When you sat next to her on the couch you got a good glance on her for you page. You quickly noticed her favouritism of girls in maid outfits; liking almost every video she saw. That's how you got the perfect idea for a little surprise; after all your girl had just made it as an avenger.  

You quickly bought one of the infamous costumes for yourself and when Kate felt for her training with Clint you put your plan into action. The costume hugged your body perfectly: the skirt ending just on your mid thigh revealing your panties whenever you would bend over. You wore her favourite set of white lingerie with little red strawberries underneath with some matching thigh highs. 

You positioned yourself next to the front door of your shared of your apartment waiting patiently for the arrival of your dear girlfriend. When she opened the door she dropped her gym bag out of pure shock; a good shock. You sat on the ground on your knees looking up at her through hooded eyes. "Fuck baby" she breathed out at your clear display of pure submission of the archer. "I cleaned and cooked, Ms. Bishop" The use of her last name made her feel powerful over you and it felt so good. So good she felt her cock straining in her  boxers. 

"Fuck I think dinner has to wait, you need to get your treat first" she chuckled her cheeks still reddened as she tried her best to play the role of a serious dom. Of course she had been in control but never like this. She grabbed your chin forcing your mouth open as you let your tongue out. You placed your hands on her thighs for support as you watched her hastily unbuckle her pants tugging them down with her boxers. Her cock stood proud against her lower stomach, the red tip already tripping with white pre cum. You were sure you had never seen her this hard before. 

You licked over her tip before taking the leaking tip in your hot mouth which forced the sweetest moans from the throat of the archer. You swirled your tongue around her tip taking her time to properly tease you until her release. Sadly she didn't have any of that roughly grabbing your head before trusting her entire length down your throat making you gag at the rough motion. Desperately you grabbed onto her behind forcing her to stay still for a few seconds.  

She let you adjust to the new penetration for a short while before she set a brutal pace. Kate never failed to make you gag with her rough motions. After a few thrusts your mascara was already rolling down your reddened cheeks which only made her want you more. She released small whimpers as she worked herself closer to her peak. One of your hands sneaked to her balls massaging them to make her cum sooner, which unsurprisingly worked. 

Kate pulled out of your throat jerking her shaft a few times as you put out your tongue and closing your eyes awaiting her load. With a loud groan she released all over your face not even trying to cum on your tongue. "Fuck baby girl, all messy huh?" she teased gently patting on your your cheek before grabbing your face squishing your face. "My little maid all dirty" She tugged her length into her pants again pulling up her jeans again. 

She grabbed your arm pulling you with her to the kitchen. "Bend over" She commanded this all dominant act which was completely new to her however you weren't complaining about it. Kate however still was very with this new role but she remembered the advice she had gotten from Nat, never show that you're nervous. Of course the assassin gave the advice Kate for combat but it worked surprisingly well there too. 

You applied to her wishes being over the marble kitchen counter the skirt rising up of course "Fuck you're such a slut" Kate had never used such lewd language with you but you couldn't lie it made you even wetter. "She pulled on your panties before letting it snap back on your sensitive pussy which made you cry out in pure lust. "Ms. Bishop please" You begged her for something, her mouth, her fingers her cock. You didn't care you just wanted her. 

She pushed away your panties before she slide her cold fingers through your dripping slit. Her experienced fingers found your clit rubbing your puffy clit which made you mewl as you could hardly keep your hips still. You could her her pulling her pants off giving herself a few more strokes to make her even harder. "I'll pull out" she playfully slapped your ass which made you cry out for her. You wanted her to cum inside but maybe another day you thought. 

You thoughts were cut short by her penis forcing it's tip inside your tight hole. She pushed inside of you without mercy making it hard for you to not cry out for her to slow down, but the pleasure was greater than the pain. "Sh, good girl" she cooed against your skin stilling inside of your tight heat to let you adjust to her. "You can start" you whimpered as you felt her being to trust inside of your pussy. 

"You're so, fuck, so fucking tight for me" She groaned before slapping your ass but not hard enough to sting "You're my little cock whore, fuck, you're made for my cock" She fastened her pace the roleplay had turned her into a whole other person. "Just for you Kate" You moaned your face smushed against the kitchen counter. Both of her hands gripped so hard on her hips that you were certain that it would leave behind bruises on your soft skin. 

"Are you gonna cum, baby" She asked as she felt your walls clamp around her length. "Y-yes, please let me cum" She was close to small droplets of sweat forming on her abs. "Cum with me" She pulled out one hand around her cock pumping her cock while the other was placed on your clit bringing you to an earth shattering orgasm which made you barely recognise her cumming over your cheeks. "Let's get you cleaned up my little maid" 

You leaned on Kate chest the warm water souring you relaxing your sore muscles. "Baby I thing that was the best idea you had in a long while" She chuckled kissing the top of your head "I know but you have to communicate wishes like that." She sighed letting her head fall back she was clearly blushing "I just thought you'd think that I would be some weird massive nerd or something" You shifted on her lap making the water around you move. "I would never never think like that" With that your lips meet hers.

:)

[static-radio-ao3]

@jegulus-microfic // march 26 // prompt: transfiguration // words: 1100 // cw: some blood and a minor wound (but it's v cute + fluffy)

“How did this happen again?” Sirius asks as he dabs at the cut along the palm of Regulus’ hand. The cloth stings, despite Sirius’ best attempts to be gentle.

“Just got a strong grip,” Regulus mumbles. His eyes flit around the room, catching on the gaudy red drapery and the mess of clothes scattered on every spare surface.

“Uhu, sure.” Sirius doesn’t look away from what he’s doing, carefully cleaning the wound. “But really?”

It’s not the first time something like this has happened. It has actually been a pretty common occurrence this past year. Summer had done James good and Regulus had a hard time not noticing it.

A few weeks ago, during Transfiguration, Regulus had accidentally made the windows explode when James walked in to drop off a note for professor McGonagall.

He’d sent Regulus a small smile on his way out and it immediately made Regulus' heart trip and the windows burst. James had been so brave about it too, sheltering Regulus’ body with his own to keep any shards from falling on him. He still remembers the warmth of his cloak and the scent of his shampoo.

Not too long after that, James had passed him in the courtyard when he was messing around with Barty and Evan. A cheery call of “Hey, Regulus!” and his spell had slipped out of his control, hitting a few people with a relatively harmless stinging hex.

Today, Regulus had been sitting next to Sirius in the Grand Hall, not aware he was actually in James’ spot. When James slid onto the bench next to him, thighs pressing against each other and the heat of his body seeping though the fabric of is clothes, Regulus had accidentally made the cups of pumpkin juice shatter.

Unfortunately, he had been holding his own, which is why he is currently perched on the edge of Sirius’ bed as Sirius tries to heal the small cut on the palm of his hand.

“I keep…” Regulus puffs up his cheeks, considering his words. “I keep messing things up. When J— this guy walks into the room.”

“You have a crush?” Sirius asks, finally looking up from the task at hand to meet Regulus’ eye.

“Don’t say it out loud,” he hisses. Regulus has to resist the urge to clap his hand over Sirius’ mouth, never mind the fact that they’re alone in his dorm right now.

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing!”

“It’s not embarrassing! I think it’s sweet! My little brother, all grown up.”

Sirius sounds fond. Proud. Warmth sparks behind Regulus’ ribs.

“M not little,” he huffs, but it lacks any real heat. He knows he’ll always be Sirius’ little brother.

Good thing it’s his favorite thing about himself.

The blood has been cleared away enough for Sirius to see the cut. It’s not deep, thankfully, so a simple mending spell should do the trick.

The feeling of the spell is pleasant on his skin, like dipping his hand into warm water, relief rushing over him.

As luck would have it, James chooses that exact moment to walk into the room. Regulus counts to ten in his head, an attempt to quell the magic that is coursing through his veins and desperate to burst from his fingertips.

James looks handsome like this, hair a bit messy from where he has been running his hand through it, glasses low on his nose. Regulus itches to push it back into place. His tie is a bit too loose to be acceptable, but he seems to get away with it every time. The golden details of his uniform compliment the hazel of his eyes and Regulus is at risk of swimming in them if he doesn’t look away.

“Reg, hey, are you okay?” He sounds breathless, like he ran up the stairs to get here. Regulus tries not to get his hopes up.

He coughs, just to make sure his voice is still there. “Yeah, just a cut. Sirius is fixing it.”

Neither Sirius nor Regulus mentions that they are used to patching each other up. More familiar with each other’s healing magic than they’d like to admit. They had spent long nights with books they’d borrowed from the Black family library, learning simple healing spells.

“Why not go see Pomfrey?”

Regulus ignores the indignant hey from Sirius and says, “She had her hands full already. But it’s fine. Sirius can—”

“Here, let me,” James says, nudging Sirius out of the way.

Sirius is about to protest when he catches sight of Regulus’ face, a slow blush crawling up his neck and blooming on his cheeks. Understanding sparks in Sirius’ eyes and a shit-eating grin forms on his face.

“Yeah, Prongs can take care of this. I have to head out anyway.”

Regulus tries to communicate to Sirius that he should absolutely not leave or Regulus might end up accidentally setting his bed on fire. Or on purpose. He’s not sure yet. But Sirius elects to ignore his warnings and shuts the door behind him with a wink.

James’ hands are warm. His palms are calloused from all those hours practicing Quidditch, but no less gentle in their prodding.

“Strong grip, huh?” James murmurs as he pokes at the tender skin on Regulus’ hand. There isn’t much to mend anymore, Sirius was basically done, but neither of them mentions it.

“Yeah, apparently.”

Regulus is thankful his voice doesn’t crack, but the heat in his face is persistent, straying up to the tips of his ears.

“Mh, maybe you should try out for the Slythering Quidditch team. I’d like to have some real competition on the pitch.”

“Maybe.”

“Then again, maybe you’ll be distracted enough to let me sneak by, or to set your team’s brooms on fire.”

Red blooms in Regulus’ face, almost brighter than the red on the walls. His embarrassment is short-lived though, because James is laughing fondly, hands still cradling Regulus’ own.

“You did it on purpose!” He accuses.

“Not on purpose, per se. I just wanted to test a theory,” he muses. A thumb strokes over the back of Regulus’ hand and goosebumps erupt on his skin. James hums, content. “I’m sorry, though. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Regulus huffs in annoyance, but it’s a show and they both know it.

“I really am sorry,” James says again, ducking his head so he can meet Regulus’ eye. One of his hands comes up to push a dark curl away from Regulus’ forehead. Then, it settles on the side of his face. In the quiet space between them, he murmurs “Let me kiss it better.”

[abbyslev]

crazy- toji fushiguro x reader

SFW

a/n: if you guys want a part two i’ll be so down to do it!! love this sm. don’t mind any spelling errors, i’m tipsy writing this lolol

toji would curse shiu as long as he lived. bringing him to a bar? this fancy? one drink was over $13.

“how much longer of this crap?” toji stared down at shiu, fixing his rented suit. it was last minute, and though it fit him, he wasn’t used to wearing fancy crap like this. “it’s common courtesy to let the show finish before we socialize, fushiguro.” shiu teased, smoking his cigarette.

shiu had to meet up with some higher ups, dragging toji along since he’d be doing the real dirty work. toji denied at first, as this bar was meant for crazy rich people who had nothing better to do.

his eyes met the stage, where a beautiful woman in a black, skin tight gown held into a mic, singing. her beautiful, deep voice rang in his ears. he could give less shits about the music, but more so the woman amongst him. your long, beautiful curled hair. the smokey eye that made your beautiful eyes glint in the dim light, the used ashtray on the stool beside you, the red manicured nails, everything about you made him crazy.

“don’t eat her with your eyes, fushiguro.” shiu chuckled. “who’s she?” toji didn’t dare to move his eyes from you. “don’t know her name, but she’s a real eye candy. she’s here every weekend. real charming voice, too.” shiu lit a second cigarette. “go offer her a drink.” he added.

-

not long after you, another woman joined the stage. after a few quiet “thank you’s.” and polite bows, you left the stage.

toji had lost you in the crowd for a moment. he stood up, fixing his suit. “going to find her?” shiu smirked. “shut it, asshole.” toji huffed, making his way to the bar. he felt out of place, such a strong tall man, a serial killer, a gambler, mixed in with rich assholes who’d spit on him if they knew what he did and where he had come from.

“one yamazaki shot, please!” you waved down your favorite bartender. “make that two.” toji appeared from behind you. you turned around, eyes meeting the tall man’s eyes. you were used to men buying you drinks, trying to talk to you, even trying to slip money in your top. but for some reason, this man gave you a new feeling.

toji pulled out a stool for you, taking your hand as he helped you up. he took the chair next to you, watching as you took down your shot. he did the same, keeping his face from twisting up. expensive definitely doesn’t mean good.

“my names fushiguro. what’s yours?” “kamodo.” oh, rich family. of course. “no, not that kamodo. i couldn’t even dream of being part of that family.” you laugh as you see his eyes widen at your surname. “i was about to say.” toji smiled. “you have a beautiful voice, doll.” he complimented. “thank you, i appreciate you.” you giggle, setting your hands in your lap.

“i took you more of a vodka girl, maybe even sake. but whiskey?” he flirts, eyes your beautiful features. “what can i say? stuff gets boring around here, but expensive doesn’t mean good.” you look up at the colorful bar. “took two words right out of my mouth.”

“you from here?” he tilted his head. “no, i’m from tokyo, but business brought me down here.” sorcerer business. not that you were in it anymore. truth is, you came from the rich side of the sorcerer family, but the other half of your family was just a rich surname who lived normal lives. so, rich in both worlds. you hated saying it. you dropped sorcery after your sister had died from it. you were done protecting people.

“and you?” “i just float around, not really sure what i’m doing here tonight.” toji shrugged. “your buddy brought you here?” you looked at shiu, who was shaking a man’s hand. you order another round, slipping a cigarette from a golden case in your purse. “want one?” “i don’t smoke.” he shook his head. he took down the shot, watching as you did the same.

“gentlemen, aye?” “just looking out for myself.” “smart. your buddy over there, i wonder how many packs he goes through.” you inhale the warm air, exhaling into the air. toji stared at your collarbones, his imagination running wild.

“he doesn’t give a shit about his health.” “who does? i mean, we are at bar.” you laugh. you heel bumped his leg. both of you ignored it, continuing your conversation.

after plenty more shots and many cigarettes, you two were interrupted by tojis cellphone. “sorry, have to answer this.” he shook his head. you waved him off, stretching your back. it was mostly hushed whispers. “i’ll be home in an hour, the latest, just make sure he goes to bed, alright? and tell him to put them up.” toji hung up the phone, shaking his head.

“what? your kids being bad or something?” you laughed jokingly. “yeah, little brats being bad.” he put his phone up. “wait, you have kids?”

oh, how he fucked up.

why would a young woman like you ever get with a man with kids? he wasn’t ashamed of them, he was afraid of scaring you away. looking like a whore.

“yeah, two. ones from my wife’s previous marriage.” “you have a wife?” god, he just couldn’t make it worse, could he? “sorry, i have a bad habit of calling her my wife. she passed away a couple years ago during my sons birth. just so used to calling her that.” he gave up, just spitting out the truth.

“oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to overstep.” “no, i made it sound like i was an unfaithful man. i promise i’m not.” he mumbled. “it’s okay, i believe you. i know a lot of these men are cheaters. but you seem like an honest guy.” you gave him a smile.

“what are you waiting for?” you lean forward. “huh?” he snapped out of his trance. “show me those little shits! i wanna see!” you nudge his elbow. he felt a weight come off his chest. he scooted closer to you, opening his gallery. it was full of pictures of the two.

“this is tsumiki, and this is megumi.” “blessing.” you murmur. “yeah, i named him.” “he looks just like you.” you smile. “this is him on his first day of school.” he swiped to see a very snotty kid, looking like he could kick some ass. he swiped, showing megumi with a black and white dog. you recognized them. shikigami.

he was a sorcerer. toji kept rambling, assuming you had no idea what a curse was. or a sorcerer, or anything of that matter. you finally notice the man soften up.

“hey you two, time to wrap it up.” you hear a loud clap. shiu had his hand on tojis shoulder, pulling him off the stool. “oh, don’t be so cruel to the man.” you giggle. “it’s time for me to get goin, i promised those brats i’d be home earlier.” he helped you down from your chair. “hold on.” you dug in your purse, before pulling out a black pen.

you take his hand, feeling him stiffen. you wrote your number on the back of his hand, writing your full name under. he softened up after he watched what you were doing. you took his face, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “i’ll see you around, fushiguro. and tell those brats i said hey.” you waved at him, disappearing in the back.

“got yourself a date?” shiu teased. “yeah, i guess i do.”

[oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse]

In the Moment

dark!Sebastian x f!reader

Summary - Combining “I feel like if MC used unforgivables in front of Sebastian he would probably be proud or wildly turned on or both lol" and "after reading that Subastion fic, can I possibly request a dom Sebastian fic?”

Word Count - 1,740

Warnings - 18+ smut, dark!sebastian, violence, blood

A/N - Okay I think this one was worth the wait. Not SUPER dark Seb, but should be quite enjoyable

You ended up dragging Sebastian to a pretty unsavory part of the woods in search of some poachers. When you heard about them capturing puffskeins it made you sick. They were one of the most innocent creatures you had seen and it infuriated you.

You were angry on your trek through the woods making quick work of any dugbogs or spiders that had chosen the wrong day to test you. They were aggressive and you knew they'd fight until they had you fatally injured so it didn't bother you to harm them.

Sebastian followed closely, whining the whole way, but at least he had agreed to accompany you. You crept through bushes carefully when you began to hear shouting. You looked at Sebastian and grinned; you had finally found the camp they'd been hiding the poor little fluffballs.

You were a good duelist and Sebastian knew that, the two of you together felt practically unstoppable. That combined with the fact that you both knew unforgivable's certainly gave you a leg up and anyone in your way very little chance of making an escape.

You didn't feel the need to hide any longer and drew your wand as you stalked over to a couple of poachers in the camp. They were busying themselves securing cages and yelling at the creatures to quiet their cries. You cleared your throat which made them jump back, wands at the ready.

They laughed upon seeing you in your Hogwarts robes.

"It's just a kid. Just scare them away," one of them said, turning back around to completely ignored you. A nasty sneer was on the remaining poacher's face as he chuckled at you.

"Come on. You don't really know what you're doing so we'll be nice and let ya' off with a warning this once." He was weary of you, but clearly not very afraid.

You glanced back to Sebastian when trying to decide what you wanted to do. You were enraged at what they were doing to innocent creatures, abusing them, killing them. Your anger boiled over when they dared to underestimate you. That was something you were sick of.

You barely thought before the words left your lips angrily, "Crucio!"

You were so calm and collected despite the nature of what you had just done. A red light shot out from your wand and right into the unsuspecting poacher that had threatened you. The other poacher whipped around to see his partner on the ground writhing and groaning in pain.

You could see the fear in his eyes when they met yours. You could feel the magic coursing through you where you stood, swirling your wand around to exaggerate the poacher's pain even more. As Sebastian watched you he cursed to himself. You looked angelic doing something that was so taboo. The surge from your wand had your robes whipping around your body. The look on your face was one of sheer determination. In the midst of the torture, you spared a glance at Sebastian where you sent him a devilish smile that had him tugging at the tight crotch of his pants.

Your trance with the spell was broken when the other poacher screamed at you, begging you to stop and they would just leave and give you whatever you wanted. As you released the spell you heaved forward and dropped to your own knees with a gasp. You watch the lucky poacher pick his friend up off of the ground where he lay panting and still squirming.

You didn't process anything they said as they rushed off to get far away from you, tossing a set of keys in your direction. Sebastian had intended to jump in and help you, but you just hadn't needed it. He rushed forward now to kneel down beside you.

"Y/N? Are you, are you okay?" His voice was soft, but raspy with the lust he was having a hard time containing.

As you let the world come back into focus around you, you turned to look at him, "The puffskeins. Please let them out." He sent a soft smile towards you that you barely registered. He stood to grab the keys and quickly free the innocent creatures to find their way homes. He took his time like he knew you would and placed each one on the ground to roll away on their own.

You stood up, feeling free from your daze as you watch them roll away happily into the fields. Sebastian made his way back over to you and placed a warm hand on your cheek.

"You were incredible." His voice was low and his eyes were locked with yours. You could see his pupils were wide and his eyelids heavy.

"Let me worship you after that. You've earned it." He weaves an arm around your waist, pressing against your lower back to bring you closer to him. Your noses were touching as you breathed heavily, never breaking eye contact with him. You nodded as much as the small space between you allowed and he dragged your face into his.

His lips met yours hungrily with wet and needy kisses. He slips his tongue past your lips to explore every inch of your mouth. You drop your wand and cling to him, adrenaline and desire running through you as you grasp at his robes. He presses his teeth into your lip hard, leaving a trickle of blood down them.

He pulled back from you to toss them away and yank yours off, throwing them into the same pile. He looks you up and down while he loosens his tie and the first few buttons of his blouse.

"Are you going to stand there or be a good girl and rid yourself of all that cloth in my way? When I see you standing there so strong in front to of the poachers, every fiber in me wants to make you beg. You need to beg me to make you fall apart. You can't be so tough all the time can you?"

You shiver at his words, wholeheartedly believing him. That he would bring you to pieces whether you gave him permission or not. His gaze was heated as he gestured for you to take your clothes off, so you obey him, looking around nervously. "Relax, we're alone. You really fucked them up," he groaned and palmed himself through his trousers, drawing your eyes to the wet patch that was on them, "Although if you wanted to make them watch, I'm sure you could. You could do anything Y/N."

Sebastian stepped close to you while you worked at unfastening your shirt, skirt already at your ankles. You really didn't want to upset him. He stepped forward and grabbed your jaw, slipping his thumb into your mouth and dragging the mix of spittle and blood down your chin.

"You're so good at those curses. I have the most insatiable urge to knock you down a peg. You could do anything, but you'll never be a match for me." His gaze was sultry, eyes trailing down to your camisole and knickers you still had on.

Just like that it was like a switch flipped. His hands were on you rough and clawing at your clothes, popping the rest of the buttons on your blouse to toss it aside. The only thing keeping your camisole intact was that you lifted your arms so he could tear it off.

He dives into your neck, sucking spots that you know are going to leave a mark. You cry out when he sinks his teeth into your sensitive flesh, meanwhile, he tugs your undergarments up until you're so uncomfortable you squirm with how they're pressing into your bundle of nerves.

"You're much too slow," he mutters. He makes his way over your breasts, licking and biting the soft flesh and stiff peaks. You struggle to balance as he slinks down your body, continuing his assault by leaving bitemarks and bruises in his wake.

He drags your underwear down as he falls on his knees. He drags his nose across your soft patch of hair stopping just short of where he knows you need him most. He breathes in deeply and looks up at you, leaving goosebumps behind on your skin as he trails his fingers over your legs.

"You smell delicious and you're soaking wet," he pulls on your legs, making you stand with them spread wide, "You loved using that magic and making them suffer. You love being out here where they could hear me fucking you senseless after you just about killed them."

He lets out a moan of his own before licking a slow, wide stripe up your cunt to taste you. You take a tight grasp on his overgrown hair and let out a whine. He laughs and it sends hot air and vibrations against you that makes you clutch him even tighter.

Deciding that he's toyed with you enough, he takes a firm hold on your backside and buries his face against you. He spreads your juices up to your clit before he starts tracing fast and heavy circles up against it. He slips one of his hands around while you groan and clutch his head between your thighs, inserting two aggressive fingers into your wetness.

He thrusts them in and out of you, timing it expertly with his mouth until you feel the warm pit building in your stomach. You call out his name while he fucks you relentlessly, adding another finger to feel you stretch and squeeze against him. When he feels your thighs quaking he helps to hold you steady as you cum on his face, gyrating your hips against him to helplessly hold onto the feeling.

He pulls away from your sensitive button to use big swipes of his tongue to clean your cum where it's dripping from your lips and down your thighs. When he's content with licking you clean, he stands up and pulls your skirt and bloomers with him.

He puts his arms around your waist for support as he takes in your dazed and heated expression. You whimper and lean into his chest at how your bottoms that he pulled up still rub against your sensitive spot. He pulls you into a complete hug, reveling in the way your bare breasts feel even through his shirt.

"That's my girl, now let's get you dressed okay?"

[liliavnrg]

i wanted to try to write something longer for lilia. this will most likely be, at the very least, slightly out of character, and i wrote it at 2am so there'll be some mistakes here and there. warnings; hurt/comfort, crying, hints of bittersweet ending, slight hurt/no comfort for lilia.

The old fae stood in front of your bedroom door, his eyes wide open in surprise as his hand stopped right before his knuckles knocked on the worn wood to announce his presence, frozen in place after being caught off guard by a strange sound. 

And there it was again, but this time he realized what it was: a sniff. 

It was a small, fragile sound that could easily fade away with the wind coming through the windows, but Lilia’s hearing was still much sharper than a regular person’s, catching it without much trouble. 

Even with the door separating your room from the hallway where he stood, his ears picked up the gentle rustle of a page being turned, confirming that you were inside. There was no sobbing, no wails or whimpers, only that single sniffle… but it was enough for him. 

Keeping his usual, friendly smile on his face, Lilia energetically knocked at your door, listening as the sound of turning pages ceased and, after a few seconds, your footsteps getting closer before finally opening the door. 

“Good evening! I hope you don’t mind my little surprise visit.” His red eyes were focused on your face as he greeted you. At first sight, there was barely anything unusual, but there was the slightest glint on your eyes that he would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. 

His suspicions only increased when you cleared your throat before replying. While there were many reasons, he was used to following his instinct, and this was no exception. Having raised a son taught him to pay attention to certain details.

“I don’t, I expected that you would just drop in after I told you that you could visit whenever you wanted.” Your reply only added something else to his mental list, your voice was croaky.

Lilia simply sent you a playful smile before following you inside your bedroom, leaving the box he carried on one of his hands on top of your desk, noticing the closed book to the side. It was old, even the magic spell used to preserve it couldn’t stop the letters making up the title to fade with time. 

“What an interesting book you have here.” His gaze moved from the object to your face, watching your reaction. “Would you mind telling me about its contents?” 

Ah, there it was. A small frown, your lips turning down ever so slightly as you fought to keep your expression neutral. He noticed how you played with the sleeves of your shirt, too, probably because of stress. 

“It’s just a book I picked from the library, it’s nothing special.” Your attempt to avoid the question was cute, but it wouldn’t work on someone like him. 

“I see. Although I find it strange how something that you claim isn’t special would make you cry.” Your eyes widened at his words.

“What? I wasn’t crying, what are you talking about?” And yet, there was the smallest of tremors in your voice, your body tensing.

“Maybe not crying, but I can tell you’re holding it in.” Lilia took a few steps forward, slowly reaching to caress your cheek with his gloved fingers, the fabric cold against your warm skin. “If you’d prefer not to talk about it, I can simply stay here with you and lend you my shoulder. But it isn’t healthy to hold your tears for too long, little one.”

Silence was his reply, but the expression on your face said enough. Faced with someone lending you a hand, it was more and more difficult to hold it in, the coldness of his touch feeling warm, his understanding eyes breaking your walls so easily that it was almost pitiable. 

“Come here, I’ll hold you.” The man’s deep voice sounded so comforting as he guided your body closer to his own, his movement slow to give you the opportunity to pull away if you wished to, and yet his arms were firm as he wrapped them around you.

Your own arms felt awkward, so you wrapped them around him in return, your embrace much looser than his while you hesitated. There was no rush from the fae, no comments, only his gentle touch as one of his hands stroked your back, as if he was willing to give you all the time in the world. 

With each caress, you felt your eyes burn, a lump in your throat as your vision began to turn blurry. You fought to keep your feelings inside, it was a habit. Your lip trembled, your skin felt warmer, too warm. Even in Lilia’s firm hold, your body shook, but it was a lost battle from the moment the fae looked at you with his soft gaze.

A sob escaped, followed by another, even as you tried to hold back the tears. Your head hurt, painful pounding against your skull from bottling your feelings for so long until the bottle shattered. 

Lilia’s hand never stopped stroking your back even as you buried your head in the crook of his neck, your loose embrace turning into a desperate one, your hands clinging to his coat as he felt your hot tears fall on his skin and the fabric of his shirt.

You clenched your jaw to try and put a stop to your sobs, but it proved to be useless as they continued escaping your mouth, your body trembling with each one as you tried to regulate your breathing. 

“I- I just miss my home so much, Lilia.” You sobbed, your voice croaky and muffled. “I know the headmaster isn’t trying- he’s always avoiding the topic! He- He only mentions it when he wants me to- to do something for him!” 

You sniffled, your body shaking even harder as you finally let your feelings out of the cracked bottle you had been trying to fix for months ever since the first time you noticed how nervous Crowley had acted when you asked about when you’d be able to go home, or if he had discovered something. 

“I’ve been- I’ve been trying to look for a way myself, but it’s just so, so useless.” You continued. “I like this place, I love you guys so much, but I- I-” A sob cut you off, and you didn’t try to continue talking, knowing that it would be nothing but incomprehensible words.

Lilia didn’t say anything, he knew that there was nothing he could say to comfort you at that moment. He didn’t know anything about how you got to Twisted Wonderland, at least no more than you did, and he couldn’t tell you that you’d be able to go back soon, as it would be empty words. 

So he chose silence, his hand moving from your back to your head, letting you weep on his shoulder without any rush. Your sobs and whimpers broke his old heart, he hated to see someone like you cry, as you had quickly become someone he held very dear.

And yet, what hurt him the most was the reason for your tears. You longed to go back to your world, to your real home, where you had been born and raised, a place he knew nothing about. A place where he couldn’t follow you if you managed to find a way back.

But Lilia knew that he couldn’t tell you about how he feared the day when you’d leave this world, about how much it’d hurt to see you go. A farewell should be happy, someone should be sent off with a smile rather than with tears and a frown, and he wanted you to go wherever you wanted as long as it made you happy.

How could he be so selfish to ask you to stay, when he himself didn’t even know how long he had left? He’d rather you went back to your home before you could see him grow weaker, and keep your memories always dear to your heart. 

Lilia stood there with you sobbing in his arms for a long time, until the tears finally stopped. He let you pull away from the hug, but kept one of his hands on your arm, giving a gentle, comforting squeeze before letting go. 

“Feeling better?” His voice was as soft as his eyes, putting a small stop to his playful self to pay more attention to you. 

“Yeah, I… I needed that, thank you.” It felt a bit embarrassing to admit, but you were truly grateful that the fae was there to convince you to stop holding back your tears. Even if your face still felt a bit too warm for your liking as you wiped away the remains of your tears, your chest felt lighter. 

“That’s good! Now, I brought something that will make you feel even better.” With a big smile on his face. Lilia reached to grab the box he had placed on your desk, opening the lid. 

Inside you could see cupcakes, except the color was extremely weird, even sickly-looking. There were strange ingredients used as toppings and, while you could see some decent frosting with colorful sprinkles, you were pretty sure there was a lizard tail, or something else in there, too.

“Did you… cook this?” You asked, trying very, very hard to keep a smile on your face, although the answer was obvious. 

“I did! So, which one would you like to try first? I made sure that all of these would be highly nutritious.” Lilia replied, the grin on his face showing nothing but pride for his cooking, completely unaware of the grimace you were fighting.

Your heart felt lighter, even with the danger of the suspicious-looking treats. At the same time, his chest felt heavier, with the reminder that your presence was even more temporary than he was used to.

[slickchickchocolatier]

S E 7 E N : B E E Z L E B U B P A R T 1 N E

SMUT/MDNI18+ M A S T E R L I S T

Yay! Chapter 2! "B E E Z L E B U B" is here! so excited to hear what you guys think of the series so far. I feel bad because i didnt get to proofread this since i typed majority of it on my phone while i was away from my computer, eventually i'lll go in to read through it and correct any mistakes, but for now, please ignore them.

Warnings: just one main one...fingering. of course there's kissing, issuing of pet names, and references of the bible, Heaven and Hell terminologies, death, cults, angels and demons. So please be confident as you continue to read, if religion is a touchy subject for you, prooooooobably not a good read for you.....but it is a good read. it really is (at least i think so)

Enjoy!

You decided to walk back towards the map and see if you can make out which trail would be closest to your home.

‘I have to go back….I’ll need to settle some things before I die…I only have seven days.’

The tears immediately started to build back up. You suddenly felt lonely, much more than you had since Lily died.

‘What’s going to happen? How are they going to….’

Dying is never a pleasant thing to look forward to, however, to die wasn’t what feared you, it was the manner of how the angels were going to carry out the deed. After witnessing such horrible methods of death issued by their hands, your body trembles at the thought of either being burned alive, your body disintegrating, there was even one where a man was chopped up to bits, almost like he went through a meat grinder, your eyes widened as your heart felt punctured at witnessing the events on the news, watching as multiple angels mutated their arms into sharp blades of cutlery that operated as machines, all of them going at the man simultaneously.

Pausing in your steps, you cupped your cheek as you sobbed for a minute or two, yet it was uncontrollable and vigorous in nature as you dropped your shoes from your side and commence to crying into your hands.

Recollecting yourself, for the thousandth time, you’d think that this on and off crying business would get old and tiresome, yet the moment you think about the terrible event that will come in seven days, you started back up all over again. It got to the point where your chest became sore each time you breathed, all due to the trembling gasps and sniffles you issued out.

Finally, you were reaching the large wooden display board of the map…along with the blood-stained message that had your name gruesomely spelled out.

‘I don’t know if I should look at it….my God….I’m so scared.’

You stared at the ground as you continued walking, unable to look up to view the message…not yet. You needed a minute to take deep breaths and build some fortitude in order to read it once more as you look at the map in the background.

Using your peripherals, you could see that you were nearby the board, and yet, there was something else by the board…or someone rather.

“Hey.”

Looking up, your saddened and tearful gaze views the man dressed all in black. Like the man from before, this one was also very handsome, though he didn’t wear a mask like the other one…Helel, this one had his face fully exposed. With his back leaning against the board in the farther side, he had a relaxed stance as his arms remained firmly crossed. In his mouth, he had pinched between his teeth, a guitar pick as he flipped it around using a combination of his lips and tongue. He had on a black vest that remained open, bearing his bare chest with a series of silver chains that rested against it. Reaching to his knees, the vest had flared in a trail as he moved, much like an overcoat did.

His body looked toned and firm, and his long legs were elegantly matched with a pair of black trousers and boots. He was nowhere near as formally dressed as the man from earlier, and while this one was tall, the one that dawned red and black was taller, much taller.

He had jet black hair that was primarily combed yet the front was spiked up, he resembled a punk rocker or one of those heavy metal goth singers. Surely if any of the members of Voia Domnului saw him, he’d be labeled as someone who worships the Devil, and executed on the spot.

Responding back, you hesitated for a moment, yet issued one out as he stared at you.

“…H-hey….”

Shifting his gaze over to his side, he eyeballs the message that he had his back leaned on.

“This you?” he nudges his head slightly towards the board.

You looked at him somewhat confused, until you shifted your gaze at the message, right where your name was written.

“…yeah…”

“Hmph….well that sucks. It’s a shitty time to be human.” He speaks out so carelessly as he locks his fingers together and extends them forward, performing a back stretch as you hear minor cracks and his groans.

“So….y/n is your name.” he re-crosses his arms as he looks at you, tilting his head as he admires you and performs a half smile.

“You know…when Heeseung told me he was obsessed with some mortal girl…I couldn’t figure out why. I thought he had been going dry and lonely for far too long…six thousand years is a long time to go without getting your dick wet. Ya know?” still looking your way, you frowned your brows as you looked down at the ground.

‘Another idiot talking nonsense…what’s with these guys? Why am I have this stroke of rotten luck in getting hit up by handsome guys dressed abnormally? Is this a trap? Did the senator send them here? Do they work for Voia Domnului?’

Snapping you out of your thoughts, the man continued.

“But now that I get to see you for myself, well….fucking aye….guess I was wrong. You must be a reincarnation of one of the angels or an Ekron Goddess…..you’re too pretty to just be a mere mortal.”

Upon finishing his words, he walks over to you, you hear the dangling of chains as he takes each step.

Gently placing his fingers on your chin, he raises your face just slightly, turning it left, to right, and then back to center.

“I guess the wait was worth the while…he must have foresaw that someone like you was going to be in his future…maybe that’s why he displayed such self-restraint….hehehe. Fucking Heeseung…good one bro.”

You raised a brow as the man mentioned the name for the second time.

“Heeseung?....who-….you mean Helel?” you responded confusingly.

‘Who is Heeseung?’

“Oho! So…he lets you call him by his real name huh?....Well…makes sense, I mean…I’d let you call me by my real name…I’d let you call me whatever you want….angel face.”

Your brow tweaked upon hearing the pet name he called you by.

“So….Heeseung is Helel then?” you remarked, trying to gain closure.

“Yup. But only a select few can call him by his real name, and aside from you, no mortal has ever gained permission to call him by that. Just us, his brothers, and him.” Pointing his index finger up to the sky, his fingers still cradling your chin, you look up before shifting your view to him with confusion.

“…you mean….God?” you asked.

He laughs.

“Yeah…yeah angel. God.”

Releasing your chin, he continues to admire your face.

His attitude was a lot spunkier and outgoing it seemed like, though you could tell by the stern look in his eye, the man eluded a vibe that he had a temper. Maybe it was the way he spoke or just the way his brows were fixed, something told you that it wouldn’t take much for him to resort to anger.  

“Something the matter?” he tilts his head as he softens his tone to you.

“N….no…..i just…I need to get home….and take care of some things before I…” there it goes again. Your breath hitches out of nowhere as the tears started to build back up.

‘God…why? Why do I keep crying? Just accept it already, y/n.’

Watching you, the man places both hands on your arms.

“Hey…..why are you crying?”

As soon as he asked, you heard the voice of Helel echoing in your head as you recount the same question he asked of you, with the same vibe of softness and sincerity in his tone.

‘Why are you crying?’

For some odd reason, it had only been a split second, but the thought of the masked man from earlier this morning flashed through your mind, and you found yourself longing to see him again….though you don’t know why.

‘I’ll come get you and take you home, does that sound good? Pretty?’

You really had thought everything was a dream, yet with the other mysterious man in front of you, displaying similar traits as the man from before, you realized quickly that you indeed, had an option…or rather, you had an escape route, since you had seceded to the man and told him that you’d be his, that you’d take his death over the one you were selected for…and be his for all eternity. In exchange, the world would be saved.

Upon recounting of the deal, you made, and realizing that this was a for sure thing, you felt the urge to gain more closure.

“…..what….is your name?” you asked the man, your eyes clearing up at the prospect of escaping the angel’s death sentence.

“Well, just like the rest of my brothers, I’ve got two. Well….Heeseung technically has three, but that’s bedside’s the point. I’ll tell you my real name within due time, don’t want to scare you. For now, you can call me Jay.”

“So tell me….why are you crying? You’re not doing it because of that…” he points to the board with the bloody message on it. “are you?”

You merely looked at him with a sense of hopelessness in your expression.

“Didn’t you tell Heeseung that you’d be his?”

Looking up at him, he gives you a half smile as he strokes your arms. “He’s not going to let a thing happen to you, promise….and neither am I.”  Leaning in, he pecks your forehead, leaving you wide eyed and somewhat shocked.

‘Am I turning into some rock band’s whore? What’s going on? What kind of deal did I get myself into?’

“Um…Jay?”

“Yeah angel?”

You slightly winced at the petname. ‘First pretty and now angel?...’

“what….i mean…who are you? and who exactly is Helel?”

Jay smirks as he cups your cheek.

“I promise we’ll tell you. Just…you had already gone through a lot…” glaring over at the message on the board, you could have sworn you saw a faint snarl of his upper lip as he viewed the message with your name written in blood.

“I don’t want you to get overwhelmed…neither does Heeseung. I promise we’ll tell you when the time is right, okay? Angel?” leaning in, his sharp nose grazes against yours.

“But I-“

“Hey-no, shhhh…..be a good girl and listen.”

“…..sorry.”

“Aww…it’s all good angel. You’re so well behaved….you’re a keeper, so happy for my brother.”

They’re definitely brothers, alright. They displayed numerous similarities, yet the biggest attribute was their dominance as Jay hushed you, which made you think back to Helel’s stern tone when he issued those words in a snappy manner.

“I said….to keep moving….pretty. Or do I need to teach you how to listen?”

“So….lets take you home then.” Jay says in smirky manner as he takes you by the hand.

Maintaining his hold on you, he sticks both your hands in his pocket as you both walked the path.

“….Is it alright to ask where you’re from?” you asked, trying not to push any buttons since he hushed you when you asked who he was, yet the momentum of his affection displayed made you feel comfortable and somewhat bold, as if you had a privilege that no one else did.

“Well….that’s another thing I’ll elaborate within due time…for now, I’m from a place that’s faaaaar, far away. Really far.”

“oh….”

“what else?” you look up as he issued out his encouragement of giving you favor to ask more.

“What other questions do you have?”

‘Six thousand years is a long time to go without getting your dick wet. Ya know?’

“….how old are you?”

“really old. What else?”

‘he couldn’t have seriously meant six thousand like he stated earlier…..but somehow…I get this feeling…’

“what do you like to do for…fun?”

“aaaah…that’s an excellent question. Actually, I’m very fond of observing how you people study dipterology.”

“….’you people’?”

Laughing, he scoffs. “yeah…you people.”

Maintaining the pace of the walk, he continues.

“Sometimes I get entertained or fascinated by how wrong…or right you guys are when it comes to the scientific study of flies.”

You nod as you shift your gaze to his pocket. His hand was warm as it fully envelopes your own, his fingers interlocking with yours as he occasionally squeezed it from time to time.

“What else?”

……………..

The entire walk was spent with you asking random questions as Jay answered each one. Amused by your curiosity and finding you adorable, he continued to flatter you with compliments.

‘You know, your face is truly immaculate. The women where I'm from, don't even look like you…or up there.’

‘You got really pretty eyes. I should make a new species named after you.’

‘You like the color black? I feel like black is your color….or red.’

‘I can speak all languages, here….’  mu-ti-in aj2-ze2-ze2-ba du5-mu-u8-ak’ you know what that is? It’s Sumerian, it means ‘you are man’s precious sweet.’

A lot of his showering words confused you, it didn’t make sense, and when it did, you wondered how in the world he knew of such things such as an ancient language, or references verbatim of the bible….all 1500 pages of them.

Reaching the suburbs of the city, your heart started to rush in a beating tempo as you grew nervous. The time had gone by so fast, and it was already past 5pm, the walk was taken slowly as Jay relished your company, often pausing and taking breaks just so he could sit and admire you.

‘Lets take another break, I like looking at your face.’

‘Why aren’t you wearing your shoes? Ah…they have heels. Poor thing, let me warm your feet up.’

He was so kind to you. The way he would touch your feet and feel them instantly become warm and soften as the soreness disappears, he’d always look at you and ask ‘better?’ which you nodded silently at his unusual talent.

Noticing your hand shaking, he looks over to you with just a slight bit of concern…and amusement.

“Angel…whats wrong? You’re shaking. What is it?”

“n…nothing….i just….we only have four hours left until curfew but….the regulators come out two hours prior to start ushering people back inside their homes….and they might recognize me and try to take me away…to….to the senator.”

Raising an eyebrow, his expression grew stark and somewhat aggressive, though fortunately, it wasn’t directed at you.

“Senator?”

“Yes…he’s the leader of Voia Domnuluiand…last night….last night he…he um…”

Grabbing onto your waist, he turns your body, flushing against his as he cradles your chin once more with his gentle fingers.

“What did he do?....did he put his filthy hands on you?”

You nodded with a glaze of tears coating your eyes.

“Yes…but I was able to get away before he….he could um…” you felt uncomfortable as you recalled the events that occurred between you and Forras. The feeling of his hands groping you as his mouth was plastered on your neck made you shake with disgust. Watching as you dipped your head slightly and covered your eyes as you gasped from the traumatic experience at the hands of that man, Jay pulls you in and embraces you.

“Does Heeseung know?” he gently asks.

“mm…no…I didn’t even tell him anything about it….i just…I found the message right after it happened and ….i just…” you started to sob, and for a moment, you needed comfort like no other. Lily had you, yet since seeing your name after what had transpired with Forras, you reach up and grabbed onto Jay’s vest, crunching in into your palms as you bury your face into his bare chest and wept.

“Oh God……I didn’t do anything….he was trying..he was trying to-….to……”

Watching as you wept, he pulls his head slightly back as he noticed the partially torn buttons on your blouse and the black scuff marks on your shoes, which indicated a man with fine leather footwear had stepped on them.

Hugging you back closely, clenching his jaw, he comforts you…just as you needed it.

“Shhh…it’s okay. When you have the chance, you really should tell Heeseung….” Grinning, he continues with a dark tone. “I’m sure he’ll have a good idea on just what to do with that man…trust me.” He plants a kiss on to the side of your head.

“You wanna see something?”

Peeling your face away, drenched in tears, he lifts his hand and uses his index finger to clean the streams off your cheeks.

“watch…”

Observing, he snaps his fingers in the air, and coming forth out of nowhere, a beautiful, bright green butterfly appears. It fluttered around his fingers in delicate notion, resting atop of his hand. Presenting it to you, he softly issues out his words.

“Here, you can pick it up.”

Looking at him, you saw the gentleness of his face as he looks at you from above with his height towering over you.

Picking the beautiful creature from his hand with your own, you watched as the butterfly rested atop your delicate fingers, fluttering its vibrant emerald-colored wings.

For the first time in a while, you genuinely smiled as the tears kept streaming down. You were touched, the moment the butterfly danced atop your index finger, you were felt your heart warm up.

It was clear that there was something about Jay and Helel, and your gut feeling told you that it may have been sinful to take to them, but you couldn’t help it. They made you feel special, loved, and made you feel good. There was a sinful pleasure in their manner of romanticism, and you couldn’t help but start to yearn for more.

“What do you want to call it? You can name it anything you like. I personally like your name the best.” He issues as he smiles against your hair.

You chuckled at the thought.

“My name?.....if that’s what you like….we can call it that.”

“Well, sounds like a new species is established then.” He smirks.

Just as you felt his gentle grip tighten around your waist, a loud voice from behind shatters the moment.

“Everyone! Everyone it’s almost time! The sun is going to set in half an hour! The angels will come to kill the sinner!”

P A R T 2 W O

Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry

[lokischocolatefountain]

Yellow Bikini

Part of the series Neighborly Thing to Do

Fandom(s): Narcos, The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader x Joel Miller

Rating: 18+

Summary: Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife. Simple rule to follow, you’d think. But it’s not so simple when your neighbor catches you coveting his girl, fucks her in front of you and tell you that you can help yourself to her anytime you want.

A/N: I was thinking of making this a series of smutty drabbles. If you guys have requests for these characters, send them in 💛

“Nice tits, right?”

“What?” He asks, shocked, prying his eyes off the woman.

“Come on Miller, I ain’t mad,” Javier says, popping a cigarette between his lips and bringing his lighter up to it. His eyes are on his girl as she laughs at something their friend says. He looks unashamedly. Joel feels guilty for shaming the man for looking at his own girl while he was sitting there, sipping on the beer the man offered him as he stared at his girl.

Joel shifts uncomfortably on the plastic pool chair, redness creeping up his neck and then his face as the embarrassment of getting caught lusting after another man’s girl settles in. He isn’t some kind of pervert. He likes to believe he is the same well mannered man his Mama raised him to be. But what well-mannered man stares at his neighbor’s girl swimming in her pool? What kind wondered what was under the barely-there bikini she wore?

Shit, he was literally coveting his neighbor’s wife.

“No need to be shy, Joel. I’m not some possessive asshole who’s gonna pop a nerve just because someone stared at my girl. I know what I got and I know how hard it is to resist,” he said, his eyes set on you in the bright yellow bikini, half submerged in the pool. You and Javier had moved into the neighborhood a few weeks ago and you’d already become quick friends with everyone, the men in particular.

Joel was nice to you when he saw you— dropping off garbage in the morning, collecting the newspaper, at the grocery store. But he kept his distance and didn’t flirt like the other men. He didn’t want to be too obvious. And he had more manners than those men. Or so he thought before Javier called him out on it.

He should’ve said no when the DEA agent invited him and Tommy over for a pool party with his friends. But it was getting hotter by the day and Tommy dragged him over to the party, telling him that they really needed a goddamn break.

“Alright. Since you wanna be shy, I’ll be a good neighbor and help you out,” Javier said, walking off in your direction. He snaps his fingers at and beckons you and you immediately get out of the pool, abandoning your drink and your conversation with your friend.

Joel’s heart nearly stops when he sees you, all of you, dripping water down your pretty skin. He swallows when he catches a tattoo of some kind on your ass, spelling out an impolite word no one should call a woman. But it turns him on anyway. His cock twitches in his swim trunks as he imagines calling you that word.

You’re on your knees in front of Javier. He reaches behind you and pulls at the strings around your back and your neck and pockets the fabric. Joel palms himself, not caring that Javi was looking straight at him as he pulled his cock out and thrust it in your mouth.

This was just a sick wet dream. He would wake up any minute to his alarm now. Just a sick dream.

Javier has his hand in your hair, using his grip to control you like a toy, fucking your face on his cock rather than thrusting into you. He smirks at Joel and this time, he doesn’t look away at being caught. Looking away would be the decent thing to do. But is anything decent in this situation? The man is fucking his girl in front of a bunch of people for Christ’s sake!

His eyes met Tommy’s and he dropped his hand immediately. The brothers look away from each other immediately and at the sight in front of them. But none of their neighbor’s friends seem at all fazed by Javier fucking his girl’s mouth in broad daylight in front of everyone with her tits out. Anyone could see. Anyone else, neighbors. Like him. Creeps like the guy who visited the Adlers. And him, apparently.

The only one with any decency to look away is Steve, the blond guy. Even his wife seems interested.

Javi finishes on your face and you stay put on your knees, letting him come all over your pretty face. Joel wishes you didn’t have your back to him, wishes he could see that sweet face covered in jizz. He wanted the view Tommy had. Fuck!

Javi steps away and his friend, the walking stereotype of a Southern man who walked in wearing a goddamn cowboy hat takes his place. Javi walks back to Joel, cigarette still between his lips and throws your yellow bikini top at him.

“Help yourself to her anytime, neighbor. I don’t mind.”

[deapax]

Suiting her

Characters: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Summary: After escaping the hex the witch’s focus shifts to getting her powers back. Yet she can’t just ignore the looks you give her once she shows off her new style.

Word Count - no idea, enough I hope

Warnings - Smut, strap on, Agatha being merciless, overstimulation, rough sex, mommy kink

A/N - set after the hex -> also this is my first fic on here so leave a comment if you got improvements!

Originally posted by deapax

“Y/N, darling, do you mind grabbing the spell books from the shelf? The red and blue ones.” The witch’s voice echoed in your head as you rolled your eyes, heading to the shelf to do as you were told even though you had imagined this morning a lot differently.

Just a few days back you’d helped her to escape the hex just to find out that Agatha had lost access to her beloved powers. Very quickly that had become her new focus, she had developed quite an obsession to find a way to get to the what she called Witch’s Road. You didn’t know anything about this place, you weren’t a witch yourself, you were simply at Agatha’s mercy, nothing more than her loyal lover. She had never mentioned the word girlfriend, even though you liked dreaming of a life in which Agatha would be able to embrace her feelings for her, maybe even show some affection.

“Y/N, I’m waiting. Don’t make me punish you again.” The voice pulled you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You’d have to arrange with the fact that her focus was no longer on you like it had been during the hex, no matter how draining it was. Like the obedient pup you were you fetched the books and made your way to the living room of the little cabin you’d found shelter in, placing them down on the table in front of Agatha, your eyes glued to the floor as you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of you drooling over her.

“Good girl. You may start preparing lunch while I study those books, you know I value silence.” She stated rather dry, which made you clench your fists, tears dwelling in your eyes as you bit down your lip trying to hold back. It was unfair, you’d done anything for her and that’s how she thanked you? “No. You’re old enough to cook alone and I am independent enough to-“ That’s when you lifted your gaze to meet Agatha’s to make your point, yet you choked on your very own words at the view that was presented to you.

You’d known Agatha to be the elderly woman with the dark untamed curly hair and her dark purple dress. The Agatha in front of you was much different from that. She had out her hair up to a messy bun and the make up she wore was way more present, making her look even younger. But what caught your eyes the most was the suit she’d chosen to put over a white blouse, her necklace dangling from her neck. She was almost looking like she was heading to an important meeting. “Independent you say? Darling, we both know you couldn’t even survive a day without me, no need to lie to yourself. But I think you know I cannot let that little comment of yours slide so easily. Mommy needs to teach her pup some manners. Kneel.”

It was the change of tone that got to you, the attention that you suddenly had, the books long forgotten. You felt your legs pressing together as wetness started to pool between them. God you could cum from that sight alone. Without hesitation you dropped down on your knees in front of the older witch who was still settled rather comfortably on the big old fashioned chair. With doe eyes you looked up at your mommy, as she liked to call herself, yet you couldn’t agree more. “Let’s out that big loose mouth of yours to better use shall we?” Your mouth started watering as you noticed the bulge in the witch’s suit pants, that she now unbuttoned and pulled down just enough to pull her favourite purple strap out of it. It was standing proudly as your mouth slowly approached it, your eyes in Agatha’s at all times just how she’d taught you.

You licked a straight line up her strap, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking the large toy into her mouth. By the fact that she’d chosen her largest one you knew you were in big trouble. Agatha wasn’t playing around when it came to her punishments. You started sucking her off like she could feel it, hollowing your cheeks under pressing your lips against the strap before taking it even deeper until it hit the back of your mouth, making your choke. As you pulled back you met Agatha’s hand, pushing you back down. “Nuh uh, you know good girls take what they’re given. You don’t wanna disappoint mommy after the little stunt you pulled earlier do you now?” You shook your head, trying your best to keep sucking the toy, tears starting to build up as Agatha gripped your hair tighter, guiding your head on the strap just the way she liked it. Hearing her quite grunts and moans that escaped her mouth by the simple view of you encouraged you to keep going until Agatha finally had enough, the toy now covered in your salvia and your cheeks stained with your shed salty tears.

“Get up, bend over the table. I’m done playing around with you. If you wanna be a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” Her voice only fuelled your desire for her, desperate to make her proud and earn her forgiveness, but you knew better than that. Agatha wasn’t one to forgive easily, she’d proven that many times and nights before. Yet you still had allowed your feelings to take over you. Agatha’s strong hand wrapped around your throat to lift you back on your feet made you realise that you’d been too slow for her liking. Roughly she turned you around, bending you over the table, holding you down by your neck as she impatiently got rid of your pants and panties.

She now was leaning over you, you could feel the wet strap pressing against your thigh as she whispered in your ear. “Dumb little pup really thought you could escape mommy’s grip hm? I’ll never let you go. But I know you wouldn’t want to leave me, you’re such a whore for me, princess. Can’t go a day without my strap can you? You know if you wanted mommy’s attention you could’ve just asked. Mommy’s got some stress she needs to take out.” Her voice was raspy, you could tell she was exhausted and frustrated from not finding a solution for her problem since days. You started feeling bad for being so selfish, wanting all her attention for yourself while she deserved to take some time for herself after everything she’d gone through in the hex.

She licked along your ear shell, biting your earlobe and pulling on it before she got back in an upright position and used her free hand to guide the strap to your soaking wet folds, running it through them until she suddenly pushed forwards. You cried out softly, your hands gripping either side of the table as she sent another rough push right after, burying the strap inside your gaping hole. “Mommy! ‘S so big, hurts..” You whined but Agatha just laughed wickedly, pulling back just to slam the toy back inside you, the wetness of your cunt making it easy for her to pick up a quick pace, the sinful sound of skin hitting skin filling the silent room. “That’s the point of a punishment, pup. It’s supposed to hurt. But you know mommy would never do something that you don’t deserve, ain’t that right?” You could hear her panting as she tightened her grip on your neck while her nails of her other hand dug into the skin of your thigh as she kept them wide open for her.

“ ‘M so sorry for misbehaving, mo-mommy. I’ll be good, I know I deserve this.” She cried out, not being to hold back at the way Agatha manhandled you, fucking you senselessly, turning your brain to mush within a couple of seconds. The change of the rhythm Agatha fucked you with was enough to take you to the edge already. She slowed down her movement, yet she made sure the tip of the toy was hitting your sweet spot every time she thrusted the toy inside your tight hole, making your legs shake as you came, your cum dripping down your legs. Your expression change the second you noticed you’d just broken another one of your mommy’s rules.

“Oh? Did mommy’s strap fuck you so well that you forgot the simplest rule of them all? Tell me.” Smack. Her hand fell hardly on your ass you tried your best to come down from your high to form a sentence that made sense. You cried out as another blow hit your ass cheek. By the way it felt and sounded you could tell you’d be having troubles sitting the next few days. “Mind’s empty.. ‘m sorry I came without permission, mommy. I-“ Another smack interrupted your pathetic apology. You knew it didn’t matter what you said, you’d fucked up big time and she was prepared. Suddenly the witch started moving at a rapid speed again, rutting you against the table as she ignored your cries and begs. “It’s too much, mommy please! C-can’t take any more!” Tears pooled on the table as she continued taking you like her life was depending on you. The way the table was moving under her powerful thrusts you got scared that her cup of tea would end up on the ground very soon which you obviously would have to clean up afterwards. “Should’ve thought about that before you got mommy all angry and disappointed at you, princess. You can and you will give me another, and another if I tell you to. See it as a friendly reminder of who’s in charge here.”

Her voice started shaking, you could tell she was close as well by the way her movements started getting sloppier, her thrusts harder as she tried desperately to chase her own orgasm. The way she cried out your name when she came made all the pain worth it. Your knuckles turned white as you came again, sobbing loudly as she rid out her own orgasm before pulling out of you and dropping back down on her chair, pulling you along with her. “Sh sh sh, pup. You did so well for mommy. Mommy’s so proud of you.” She pulled you into her lap, wiping your tears, giving you a moment to at least catch your breath before she lifted you back on her strap. “Now rest some while I study those books, you’ll need your energy for later if I don’t find a way to get my powers back anytime soon.” Tiredly you rested your head on Agatha’s shoulder, closing your eyes as you felt her hand on your back drawing little patterns on it with her hand as she opened the book and mumbled a few spells, her voice soothing you to sleep not too long after.

[vintagehellfire]

All For Show | E.M

musician!Eddie x showgirl!reader

summary: 1955 New York City, where dreams come true. You get to dance and perform for crowds every night, bringing in good money for yourself and for daddy’s jazz club. The regulars love you, the women envy you, and the musicians are strictly banned from flirting with you (and the other dancers of course). This wasn’t a problem until your father up and coming musician Eddie Munson to perform at his jazz club. Eddie was the first man to catch your eye, and you the first performer to be worth his time, and your fathers wrath.

warnings: implied female reader, mysoginy, eventual smut, swearing, no use of y/n, nudity, drugs, smoking, slow-burn, alcohol, anger issues, controlling father, mentions of assault/implied assault (against reader), 18+ only. mdni

Chapter II: Devil Woman, You’ve Cast Your Spell | 5.2k words

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The utterance of the three simple words had your head reeling, an informality at best, an extension of some private and more intimate privilege at worst. Admittedly, the name suited him far better than the formal nature your father addressed the man in. Nothing about Eddie could be labeled as formal much to your fathers chagrin. His unruly hair, tied up in a crows nest of a bun, little curls falling out from in front of his ears. His button up shirt was a little wrinkled, a product of sweating under the hot lights of the stage, but he wore it so well. He gave the impression that he worked a hard day's labour and was finally given a moment of reprieve. The energy Eddie exuded was nothing if not easy going, the slender cigarette tucked between his index and middle finger, brought gently to kiss the space between his lips. An inhale, a held breath, a gentle exhale, and possibly just the prettiest twists of smoke you might have ever bore witness to. As he drew the cancerous vice away from his mouth, he dropped his arm, sleeves slipping back down to cover his inked arms. And god what you’d do to be held in his arms, tasting his lips.

You bashfully introduced yourself, cheeks heating at the realisation that you’ve been staring at this man for far too long, however it’s not like he hadn’t been taking you in either. The pout to your red lips, your beautiful and wide eyes that were accentuated by a nice little flick of a cat eye, the tail of your eyeliner coming to a point so sharp that he would have thought you took a blade to draw it on. Your perfectly coiffed hair bounced with volume, and your robe left little to the imagination, especially after such a show you had put on. You extended a manicured hand out to the man, and with a small second of hesitation, and an approving nod from your father, Eddie shook your it. As soon as his rough and calloused hand slid into your delicate one, there was a spark that went off, something that made you never want to relinquish the privilege you were just granted. In that same moment, neurons started firing on the musician’s end. His split second thoughts went to insecurity over the contrast that was the delicate nature of your skin versus the used and abused workers hands. There wasn’t a way you should have enjoyed the feeling of sandpaper skin against silk, yet it was of note that his hands were not that of sandpaper, no. They were workers' hands and yet they held a lightness to them, a certain airiness that wasn’t often found in the hands of men.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You let out, voice casually sultry — your father was simple enough to think it was still the act you were putting on, after all it was good for the reputation of the club if you kept appearances — the reality was much worse, the reality was that Eddie had simple stolen any ounce of breath you held in your lungs. How could he not?

“Likewise, sweetheart.” Breathed out the man with doe eyes. You could have sworn your heart stopped at the pet name, you could have given yourself away had you not been a good enough actress, and yet you tried to remain composed as one of the only men to have been able to capture your attention was so cavalier as to utter such sweet words in front of your father. Your eyes locked onto his, not daring look away because if you did, how were you supposed to memorise the galaxies in his irises and commit them to memory for years to come if you did? How would you live with yourself if you didn’t remember the man that had your breath hitch from the second you spotted him? Your father cleared his throat, interrupting the intense staring contest you and Eddie had gotten yourselves into. Both your hands dropped to your sides at that.

“Now kids,” you father started, “there’s a rehearsal tomorrow, Munson here has got a new song he’s been toying with, haven’t ‘cha, son?” He asks, patting Eddie on the back harshly. That was just how your father was, however; ever intense and without comprehension of other’s personal space.

“Hmm? Oh yeah!” Eddie let out. “It’s this really lovely piece called Pink Pussycat, I think it would be right up your alley, sweetheart.” There it was again, that little pet name. “I’d need to steal you away for a few hours tomorrow afternoon — if that’s alright with your old man of course,” he received a curt nod from your father. “I know it’s last minute but I’d at least like to try.” He lets out, a smile creeping onto his lips. “Besides, how are we to coordinate your dance numbers if you don’t know the songs you’re dancing to?” He asked with a wink, dimples becoming more prominent the wider he smiled. Your heart melted at his words and your eyes slowly trailed down to his perfect lips, his entrancing dimples. You swore he smiled with his whole face, eyes shining with a glint of mischief. You bit your lip as you looked to the floor, providing Eddie with a nod in agreement.

“Alright, pretty boy, you bring up a valid point.” Your lips split into a mischievous grin. Eddie could have sworn his heart leapt into his throat at the casual flirtation, his figure stiffening up. Surely you were like that with everybody, it was a lot easier to tell himself that you were rather than overthink and speculate why you were choosing to lightly flirt with him in the presence of your father. He shook it off and returned a blank expression. He couldn’t let himself feel this way about you, especially with your father owning the club. Your father, who had made it clear that any sort of flirtation or affair was strictly forbidden with you. Eddie couldn’t help but get lost in your words, your eyes, and he couldn’t help maybe get a little lost in the promise that the flirtation hinted at but he was doing his best not to. “Just give me a time and a place, and I’ll be there.” You flashed him your angelic smile, bright red lips tugging at the corners, eyes crinkling with smoothed out crows feet. The musician couldn’t help but crack a smile in return, yours becoming infectious like a disease but he couldn’t help but want more of it.

The following morning you sauntered into the bar, nerves eating you alive with the anticipation that you’d get to see Eddie. Your mind ran itself into the gutter the previous night, tempting you with what you couldn’t have, with what was just under your nose and yet so far away, buried deep in what should have been a bottomless grave. Your father would never allow for such a thing, going steady with a club musician, much less a beatnick jazz musician that played at his club. Your heels clacked on the floor with every confident step you took, heart hammering into your chest as you approached the stage. Daddy wouldn’t be in until at least noon, a shipment of rye coming in rather late for his liking, and so he trusted you to not get into too much trouble. Somehow, trouble always found you.

“Fancy seeing you so early, sweetheart.” The voice mused. You quickly shot your head towards the source, cheeks heating at the pet name. As soon as you laid eyes on Eddie, the sinful cigarette perched upon his bottom lip, a deep inhale, had smoke curling out from his parted mouth. He blew out the blue-grey whisps gently, making sure not to blow the cancerous substance towards you. Not once had you believed that such a habit could be so alluring, and yet here was Eddie Munson, already altering how you saw such mundane everyday habits.

“Thought I’d sneak in some practice time before father gets here. He likes giving some of the morning crowd a show sometimes, but the pressure of him being there as well isn’t always welcome believe it or not.” You admit bashfully. You’d rather not dance for the morning crowd but sometimes it helped to get some practice in front of the regulars. Delores often came in for her coffee and to read the paper, solving the crossword in the company of your father while he made sure to take care of the grime and dishes from the previous night. Harold would come in after a long night shift, as for the on the rocks and down it while he listened to Delores rattle off crossword clues as if it was this morning's news. There was also Gus who would swing by for his coffee and idle chat with father, asking about any up and coming musicians he should keep an eye on.

“Well alright then snake,” Eddie laughed out, “let’s rattle.” A mischievous smile graced his lips as he stubbed out his cigarette. He slid behind the piano that found home up on the stage and he found a sort of solace being behind the instrument. He belonged and it was as if he commanded the piano to play the music. He was its master, not the other way around. He commanded the music, the music didn’t command him and as soon as his fingers brushed against the keys, the rhythm swept you off your feet and you began moving in what seemed like the most natural and sensuous way you knew. You were the perfect example of the music mastering you, guiding you. The music was your partner and you didn’t need anybody but it. Surprisingly, you found yourself longing for a new partner, and he so happened to be across the room, brown pools darting down towards the ivory keys in a hurry, knowing he was caught staring at you.

The theme echoed through the music hall, allowing you to sway your hips slowly to the tune. Without the eyes of those close to you trickling across your figure, you dared approach Eddie, putting on a little performance for him, bending over and dragging your body up along your legs before you flipped your hair back, tossing a look over your shoulder and supplying him with the most suggestive wink. With that you sauntered across the stage making your way down low to your knees, spreading your legs slowly, leaning into the way the music moved you. If Eddie weren’t so dedicated to his job, god he would have lost it there and then. He was sure that he had made some devil angry enough to send this angel to him and forbid him from ever having a taste of heaven. If the world were on his side he’d be up there dancing jive with you, swinging you in his strong arms, if the world were on his side he would have met you before being hired by your fathers club, but the world was rarely on his side. God, the devil, however you wanted to put it, was decidedly against Eddie Munson and so that being the reality he would have to work to tamper his feelings down, beating them to a pulp.

It wasn’t long before you got a routine down, running over it a couple of times before you had gone to change into costume in order to give your father a show of what was to come. He was usually the one to see your routine and cheer you on, and it was his stamp of approval, a little kiss to the forehead, and let you know that it was an exquisite performance. And so that was what you planned to do, you got changed and in the early evening you nudged Eddie to start playing the intro to the song while you shook off your nerves backstage. As the first notes rang through, you stepped out, extending your smooth leg out from behind the velvet curtain, dragging your gloved hand along your thigh, before completely stepping out and slowly taking the lace gloves off, trailing them along your body in a similar fashion that a lover’s hands would. It made Eddie jealous yet there wasn’t anything to be jealous of. They were just a silk fabric after all, not the hands of a patron, a lover, or any man worthy of your time. You made your way up to an empty chair in the front, swinging your legs over it and enacting shoving your gloves in someone’s mouth before harshly pushing away and walking back to the stage, dropping slowly to your knees, spreading your legs out, then tucking them under and rolling, pulling the strings off your robe, allowing it to drop. Another 180° turn and you got up, ass high in the air, exposing your behind, covered in nothing but a lace thong and garter belt, the straps digging into the fat of your ass.

Eddie did not falter in his performance despite his mouth running as dry as the Sahara Desert. His tongue felt heavy, like sand had pooled itself up into his throat and no amount of water could cure this thirst. Of course it wouldn’t for it wasn’t what he was thirsting after, no, his need could only be quenched by something unattainable, something so far out of reach that he would find himself hallucinating before he could even feel a drop of relief on his tongue.

Your exhibition continued on and it seemed your father was happy with the performance to come, and even more so with the confidence the musicians exhumed. Ever since he brought that Munson man on it seemed that everyone was on their best game — it was undeniable — it was a solid choice and he would hope to not regret it. After your little practice you headed backstage to cool off and get ready for the night show, thinking you might be able to get some food and a drink in before the patrons would come in, after all, you needed something of substance. Nerves began to overtake your body, tonight was an important night, Friday nights usually were. The beginning of bender weekends where folks of all kinds of coloured backgrounds would come witness your performances before being invited to perform some of their own gigs. It was more or less an open mic night after your introductory performance — start the night off with a bang and encourage other performers to saunter up into the spotlight. If the music moved you enough you’d often come in for another little dance or two, practically flirting with the music, that’s when the real party started. The beatnicks would always bring a little powder or grass and in combination with the rye your father managed to get his hands on after the prohibition the weekends were a sure fire sock hop.

You slipped your black robe on and pocketed your metal cigarette case before stepping out, door closing softly behind you, the dim light bathing you in a warm glow. You inhale deeply before opting to pull out and light the thin tube of tobacco. You wished deeply that you were taught to roll your own, but that wasn’t very lady-like as your father put it, a phrase you grew to resent over time. You didn’t get very far in your search for sustenance before you bumped into someone’s chest.

“Oh, pardon me!” You exclaimed in surprise, smoke wafting around you. As soon as your eyes made contact with the body, eyes trailing up to meet the stranger’s figure, your mouth ran dry and not from the cigarettes you were smoking. “Oh, Eddie, please excuse me, I didn’t mean to barrel into you.” An unknown heat crept up to your cheeks, it wasn’t embarrassment, no, it was something foreign to you.

“No need to apologise, darling,” He exhaled, a glazed look overtaking his big brown eyes, “I actually wanted to come give you this.” He held out his hands, long fingers curling around a plate of toast, a bowl of roasted tomato soup sitting on top, balancing delicately, steaming and ready to be downed. “Your father he uh, he thought he should bring it over but I wanted to tell you to break a leg. You’re one of the best performers I’ve had the pleasure to work with and it’s not likely I’ll be able to get many words in after tonight.” A nod was sent his way before you reached out for the plate, dainty and warm hands wrapping around the porcelain. It wasn’t lost on either of you that you made contact with the calloused and slightly worn skin of the musician. If you were being honest, you took this opportunity as an excuse to confirm the wave that rushed through you at his touch, to confirm it wasn’t a fluke or just a figment of either of your imaginations. Your heart rate spiked dramatically as a smile reached his face, dimples inset in his cheeks, the corners of his eyes crinkling with little crow’s feet. The moment gave away just how much he smiled, a happiness that made a permanent reminder in his features, one that you were jealous of — it’s not that you weren’t happy per se, it’s just that your life wasn’t all that it was chalked up to be.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You whispered his name as if it was sacred, a mantra that you could pray over - an idol to worship in pure sin. He was a temptation sent by the devil himself and yet he was angelic in his being. He exuded a light that rarely captured a being, a light so bright that it caught your attention and commanded it. He was the false idol you dropped to your knees for, dancing to the rhythm he set, and he was none the wiser.

“It’s not a problem, sweetheart.” He offered you a gentle nod before his smile dropped. He shouldn’t have even offered to bring you your meal.What if your father were to catch on to his infatuation? He didn’t even really know you and that was the way it should stay no matter how much you commanded his attention even from across the room. Eddie was sure that he’d be able to pick you out of a crowd with one glance but he shouldn’t be able to — this is something he had to put a stop to if he was being truthful with himself, with you both. He didn’t want to cause problems for you, job honestly be damned. If losing his job meant that he might get a shot with you, who was he to stay at this club? Sure it was a club on 52nd and conveniently close to his apartment, but he’d perform down in Greenwich Village- no, no. He had to snap himself out of his.

“Hey, uh, Eddie, do you care to join me?” You boldly asked, moving your body aside and starting to open your dressing room door. “I don’t really favour eating alone.” It was a bold move on your part, and you saw him stiffen up. This could be dangerous for you both if your father were to find out about it and he didn’t want to put you in any sort of position. An expression of hesitation painted itself across his features, sucking his bottom lip in, eyes darting from side to side anxiously as if he were being watched.

“Look, uh… I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Best keep this professional and all. You wouldn’t want to upset your daddy, and I have a contract to fulfill. You understand, don’t you?” He shifted uncertainly. He didn’t want to do this but it was needed, part of you understanding but a deeper part of you feeling your heart plummet. It felt drenched in ice water, weighted down and dragged to the coldest depths of the ocean.

“Of course,” you let you, tone shifting to something hollow and detached, “thank you, Mr. Munson.” You grabbed the plate from him, opening the door to your dressing room and slipping inside without sparing him so much as another look. As you closed the door you thought you heard a quiet hiss of ‘way to go Munson’ before footsteps backed away from your door. You allowed the plate and bowl to clatter against your dressing room vanity, not willing to look at the food your father must have provided you with. Bile rises in your throat at the rejection - it wasn’t something you were used to from strangers and certainly not the club regulars, it something you were more used to from those closest to you, but Eddie wasn’t close to you — he wasn’t a club regular either — and yet somehow this stung worse than the rejection your mother offered you time after time or the rejection of any suitor that your father would impose. Suddenly this sadness shifted to something entirely different, an anger that you didn’t know you harboured. You stood quickly, making a last minute costume change before ripping your dressing room door open and heading down to the bar for a pre show drink.

Kip, the new part time busboy and bartender, was the one serving drinks, he was young with a shock of freckles across his high cheekbones, moussey red hair sat perfectly coiffed on top of his head. He wasn’t what you’d call particularly handsome but he was someone most women thought was easy on the eyes but he wasn’t Eddie. You called him over and ordered a Giblet, asking him to make it extra strong for you and he did so with pleasure, showing off his skills. He served it to you in a gold rimmed coupe and delicately placed it on a black napkin. You barely paid him any mind as you took the stem of the glass with your manicured hands and brought the coupe to your lips. You sipped it, too distracted by the way that the club patrons came and went like clockwork. A few would sit at their usual tables, moving when they found their friends, some would stay for a drink and leave, but within 30 minutes the show goers and beatniks were there to stay and relish in the show that was about to be put on. Cigarette smoke filled the air with a cloudy grey hue, creating a heavy set mood, a mood filled with want — there was an undeniable underlying energy, an antsy one at that.

Slowly you finished your drink, wiping the last few drops off your bottom lip with the rough pad of your thumb, a streak of red being left on it after your lipstick. I’ll have to reapply it, you think to yourself about the waxy substance. So with a few long strides you leave your bar stool and head over to grab your lipstick from your dressing room, hurrying so as to not be late to start your show. You were never late, you were always on queue, allowing the musicians to count you in with a four bar intro before the song flowed into a more suggestive beat. Tonight was no exception, however; plans had changed for your little number. If it was seductive before it was downright filthy now. A not so coy plan to get Eddie to notice you, to pay him back for the embarrassment of not having dinner with you. You just wanted to be kind, you weren’t expecting much more from him — you knew your dad might not see it that way, and of course you didn’t want to risk the man’s job, but a selfish part of you wanted to get to know him. The flirting between you was obvious despite the few interactions you’ve both had, and the coldness that Eddie exuded after your extended invitation was a little bit strange, as if he was trying to hold back on something.

As soon as the lights went down in the bar, hushed whispers fell across the crowd, a few abrasive and high whistles traveled through the air but found themselves landing on deaf ears. You cared for nobody’s opinions or cat calls, you only cared to perform. It gave you a certain thrill to be up on stage under the spotlights, and so when the anacrusis and fours following bars queued you in. Your outfit change took not only your father but the musicians by surprise as well. It was a lot more revealing than you had originally planned. A black lace bra adorned your chest, with a black suspender belt hugging your waist just right. You abandoned your corset completely and wore a sheer robe over your costume. You left nothing to the imagination with your sheet thong, the suspender belt holding your stockings up, digging into the meat of your thighs. Your stilettos accentuated the length of your legs, creating the illusion that you were taller than you realistically were and this fed particularly well into when you’d bend over.

As you emerged onto the scene, you feigned modesty, one leg out the curtain while running your hand delicately along the soft skin. As you stepped out holding a feathered fan in a satin gloved hand you peaked your wide eyes over the top, raising your shoulder gently and throwing an innocent glance towards the patrons of the front row. You fanned yourself as you made your way up to the Victorian style chair in the middle of the scene and you straddled it, closing your fan and tossing it towards the crowd while they cheered. In that moment you dropped your robe, revealing the lack of clothing that adorned your body. With a backbend your hair dropped, breasts nearly spilling from your bra, you sank lower and lower before pulling yourself back up slowly. Someone threw their tie to you on stage and you made good use of it, picking it up and running it down your back and across the tender flesh of your ass. You leaned into it suggestively, swinging your hips from side to side much like the pendulum of an old grandfather clock. Eyes were locked onto your movements, men left drooling over your sultry new routine, but you had yet to capture the attention of a certain musician. You upped your game a little more at this realisation, swinging the chair closer to the piano bench and hoisting your leg up on it, you twirled the tie before standing up on the chair and tipping it back with a foot on the backrest. You gently landed on the piano, rolling your back across it, legs high in the air before resting on its surface, stomach down, the tie being gently placed around Eddie's neck.

It was just then that he dared look up at you and a heat overtook his body, crawling its way, unbearably, to his neck. He had nearly slipped up on the piece that he had been preparing for weeks, initially planning just to play it at some other jazz club off of 6th, but the opportunity here lended itself nicely. He slurred the notes together seamlessly, not tipping your father off, nor the poor men in the front row who he thought were more deserving of your attention — especially if you were working for tips. That didn’t seem to matter anymore, not after you rolled off the shiny black piano top and strode across the stage, making time to roll, tumble, and lift your hips to meet nothing but the empty air, making a show of getting up, ass high in the air.

Your little performance continued on with a few lap dances in between, eyes locked onto Eddie as you did so, sending him a small wink when he would look up from the black and white keys that his fingers expertly worked. He knew what he was doing just as well as a mechanic knows his well oiled machines. His eyes left the keys and yet he continued playing, fingers having deftly memorised each position. As the last note rang out, Eddie’s last shallow breath left his lips before he hurriedly excused himself. You, however, waited until the lights went out before slipping behind the velvet curtain, ready to change into a more comfortable dress for the rest of the evening. You wouldn’t be joining in any more dances unless it was some jive or swing, you needed a quicker pace to get rid of the adrenaline that coursed its way through your veins.

There was an anxiety that clouded you all of a sudden, what if you’d gone too far? After all, you didn’t know Eddie, just that he seemed to have captured your attention the second he stepped foot into the room. You knew his smile was infectious and that whatever he was making you feel was not something that usually overtook you, and never this strongly.

As soon as you shoved the second set of curtains aside you opted to make your way down the winding hall and to your dressing room. The lights were too hot, too many eyes were on you tonight and frankly you needed a minute to catch your breath. Nothing could have prepared you for the gruff pair of unwelcome hands shoving you up against the cool béton of the adjacent wall. After the initial shock wore off your watering eyes landed on the source of such aggression — the shock of red hair gave it away, a darkness painted across his features, a want filled with lust and rage. He might as well have been seeing an acrid crimson across his vision with the expression he wore.

“How about you be a doll and help a man out, peach.” He spat out the nickname, venom dripping black from his tongue. “You got us all riled up for nuttin’, and no relief either.” His breath felt hot, stale and bitter notes hung onto it like one might hold onto bitter memories, hoping that one day they might resolve or taste sweeter than they do. Like wanting to turn mead back into honey, it wouldn’t happen.

You shoved him away as best you could, pushing against his shoulders but his hand came around your neck, an unwelcome sensation as best, suffocating at worst. It stole the little breath you had left in your lungs as you choked out a muffled cry for help. Meek, trying, yet your words weren’t strong enough and eventually began to get caught in your throat. You brought your knee up to hit him in the family jewels, hoping that you’d render them invaluable but before you could feel the impact of your knee against the soft and unprotected parts of the man before you, a violent pull pried the redheaded busboy off of you.

“Don’t you fucking lay your hands on them ever again.” The deep voice rumbled out with such ferocity that you almost didn’t recognise it. “Why don’t you shag* before I lose my cool, you sunofabitch?” You looked up to see a man possessed, his voice wildly different from the warm tones he spoke to you in, the one that had been a little more than hot and cold with you, one that soothed you like thyme and honey soothed a sore throat. The one that you decided in that moment you would want protecting you so long as you had the privilege of it.

*Shag: To get lost, to leave

a/n: hey sorry if the formatting is weird or off, I’m on mobile as my computer ate shit before I got around to writing/posting this. Anyway, here it is, longer than the first part,and hopefully they just keep getting longer from here on out. Thanks for reading!!

tag list: @ali-r3n @cryingglightningg

Let me know if you wanna be added or removed from the tag list! :)

Part I

[superpixie42]

So it's not quite ready for AO3 buuuuuuuuuuut

I did make progress on The Thing aka my whole 7-part new AU for InuKag Week. After not writing anything for months, I'm a little rusty and this is more ambitious in terms of style and world building than I typically work with so I'm not sure when the whole thing will be ready, but I love love love @inukag-week and seeing so many folks coming out of hiatus to participate really inspired me to get *something* ready to rock.

Much love to @anisaanisa @kstewdeux and @dawnrider for their help as I shook off the cobwebs.

So here is Part 1: Love Languages (aka Touch & Miscommunication)

General Info:

Summary:

Kagome Higurashi would sell her soul to get into a good high school. No. Literally. The ratty old journal she found in her grandfather's shed may have been a long shot, but with only one more day before her entrance exam, she really didn't have anything to lose. But when the Hell Hound Inuyasha actually materializes in her room, it turns out to be more than either of them bargained for.

RATING: M or E (but this part is T, for language)

Words: 2,000 (I know I was shocked too)

TAGS (for the whole fic not just these parts) Modern AU // InuKag Week 2023 //Serial Style// Time Jumps//Tumblr events//Modern setting//Sexual content- masturbation//Demon Summoning AU//Bittersweet Endings//No additional character tags

In which Kagome learns to be careful what she wishes for.

–

Kagome checked the instructions one more time. She had the candle, the fresh meat, the knife, and was using clean linen paper. Honestly it all looked so… dorky. She let out a frustrated sigh, unsure if she felt more disappointed or just plain stupid. Doing stuff like this was probably why she wasn’t going to get into a decent high school. Or college. And if med school ever found out she honestly tried to summon a demon using instructions she found in a handwritten journal in a shed on her grandfather’s shrine she would have a better chance of becoming a patient than treating them. 

And yet here she was. Kagome Higurashi on her knees in a black dress and dark cardigan looking straight out of an American horror movie, hoping against hope that her soul was worth a better-than-passing grade on tomorrow’s entrance exams. She was smart - smarter than her current situation made her feel, that’s for damn sure. But after nearly a semester of sick days there just wasn’t enough cram school on Earth to get her up to speed. She needed this to work. This had to work. 

She checked the clock: a good hour before her mother and brother got home. It was now or never.

Taking a deep breath Kagome quickly sliced the kitchen knife across her finger. She pressed down onto the middle of the white page. With as much conviction as she could muster she finally spoke: “Inuyasha, I need help.”

A beat passed. 

Then another. 

Nothing happened.

Honestly, she didn’t know what she expected.  Defeated, she swore violently and tore the useless little paper with its stupid little spell clean in half.

As soon as the last fiber broke there was a deafening roar. Kagome screamed and stood, pressing her back against her bedroom door. In front of her the air crackled with energy as the room went black, then flashed orange with light and heat as the walls burst into unnatural flames. In the middle of the room, pulling his way out of the torn half of paper, was a giant white dog. It growled and snarled and snapped its jaws; spittle hissing into steam. 

The Hell Hound filled the whole room, his red eyes with blue irises bore into Kagome, staring her down like the prey she was suddenly very sure she was. As Inuyasha’s shoulders dropped low to let him take the single step between them, Kagome considered her options. 

One, burn to death. 

Two, be mauled to death. 

Three, something equally melodramatic considering she summoned a fucking demon to pass a test. 

She quickly surveyed the room for an option four, looking hopefully at the window behind the hound. Her vision was blocked as the beast twisted slightly to face her fully again, its pointed white ears alert and focused on the heartbeat she could hear loud as a drum. She watched the ear twitch at her intake of breath. Maybe it was a lack of oxygen from the arson she’d accidentally committed, but the longer she looked at the ears the softer they looked. Figuring she was going to die anyway, Kagome slowly raised her hand; Inuyasha finally blinked, then moved his eyes to follow her raising arm. 

As softly as she could manage, Kagome dragged her middle finger down from the tip, but the ear didn’t so much as flinch. Emboldened, she quickly caressed her thumb and forefinger on the fluffy white ear. 

As soon as her fingers closed around the soft appendage the growling stopped and instead she heard a very human voice shouting in her face.

“What the fuck lady? You don’t pet a Hell Hound!” 

As suddenly as it appeared the fire disappeared. Kagome dropped to her knees in confusion and relief as her room reappeared around her, untouched and unscathed by the flames no longer licking at her face. She blinked stupidly at where the monstrous dog had been only seconds ago. In its place was a pale, fit, glowering man - the pointy ears she’d just held in her hand perched on top of a thick pile of frizzy white hair. Below the pinned back ears were thick, scowling eyebrows, molten golden eyes with slit pupils, and an expression as black as a thundercloud. She tried to find somewhere else to look when the heat returned quickly to her face as she realized that the angry demon dog man was a naked angry demon dog man. 

She ripped her eyes back to the ears. Unusual. 

Then to his eyes. Unsettling. 

The penis. Unexpected.

In an undignified fluster she smacked her face to the floor in a deep bow.

“My name is Kagome and my Lord Inuyasha I beg you to help me, please please I have to get into High School! In exchange I’ll give you anything you want I swear! Just make sure I pass and it’s yours.”

Inuyasha stood absolutely dumbfounded in the middle of what he now realized was a small bedroom, in a small house, next to a small shrine. When he’d felt his summoning charm call him he expected to rip into a board room, or a camp fire, or the aftermath of something that had gone very pear shaped. He was used to being offered souls, meat, or blood in exchange for power, murder, money; or to make problems go away in whatever manner he wanted. He sure as shit didn’t expect a teenager in a pink cat sweater to touch his ears and then ask him to help her cheat on a test. 

He scoffed. But after five hundred years of the same pathetic, selfish demands, novelty wasn’t something Inuyasha was willing to walk away from so quickly. He bit. 

“Keh, what can a girl like you even offer a hell hound?”

Kagome lifted her head slightly to look at him. “Anything you want. I’m a virgin-”

“Nope.”

“I am so!” she shouted indigently. She raised herself up onto her knees and glared. Yes, Kagome was turning to black magic to pass her exam but she wasn’t going to have her character assassinated by a demon. “You don’t have to be rude ya know!”

Inuyasha blinked as his ears flattened of their own accord. It had been a very long time since anyone scolded him. Another unexpected turn in this summoning. He crossed his arms and returned her glare.  

“I mean no I’m not interested in your virginity. Or your soul, you humans have such tiny souls anyway.” He smirked as he saw her lip twitch with what he was sure was a scathing retort. Kagome, however, did not take the bait. Instead she reigned in her temper and bowed low again. In a much less desperate tone she spoke into the floor. 

“In exchange for making sure I get into a high school that will get me into medical school I will give you anything you ask.”

“You summoned a demon for that? If you can’t even pass an entrance exam what makes you think you can survive medical school? Ya can’t offer your virginity to a demon twice ya know - how were you even gonna graduate?”

That, however, was too much. Kagome stood and stomped over to him, poking her finger into his chest for emphasis as she shouted. 

“Listen here pal! I could pass that test all on my own if they would just give me some time! It’s not my fault I got sick, like doctors aren’t allowed to get sick sometimes!?” She growled in frustration, a sound that Inuyasha couldn’t help but appreciate as it sounded not unlike his own. “It’s not fair. I just need time to catch up on the material and I know I could do it on my own. But if I don’t take the test tomorrow, or I flunk and retake it, that’s it, my reputation will never recover even if my grade point average does.” 

Inuyasha considered her request. I wouldn’t take any effort at all to change her score on the exam. But then he’d be back to aimlessly wandering until someone much less interesting with a much less, well not wholesome, but definitely more gruesome demand calls him. This Kagome stood up to him, defended herself, faced death in the eye and instead of running she reached out to touch it. While he had already decided to grant her wish, he had also decided he wasn’t quite going to do it the way she asked.

“You ain’t the only one with a reputation,” he said. He took a step back, cutting the tension and giving Kagome space to breathe. “If I’m gonna get you into this stupid special school I gotta make sure you stay there. Folks summoning me need to know I get the job all the way done, not taking the easy way out.”

Kagome narrowed his eyes, skeptical of the idea of creating an ongoing contract instead of the single transaction she expected. But then again, he wasn’t entirely wrong. What if changing her scores got noticed and she needed another fix? What if she got sick again? Isn’t that why you’re supposed to be really, really specific with genies? Assuming there were genies- but that afternoon’s events made her consider taking up antiquing as a hobby just in case.

“You still haven’t told me what you want as payment.”

“Well,” he said, “depends on what you need.” He picked at his ear with a pointed finger to feign disinterest. “To guarantee a passing grade I’ll just need something small. But to un-dead someone you cut up in clinicals will be a whole other matter,” he smirked at her undignified snort, “but not as much as convincing the class leader to take six months in Shanghai to improve your standing. But let’s not worry about that just yet.” 

Kagome braced herself, but still felt the air rush out of her lungs when he finally said, “I want your right eye.” He continued quickly, “For one year, I want to see everything you see through that eye. It becomes my eye. If I get bored, I can simply make it go black. Or maybe I use it to track someone for another wish. Or maybe I don’t do anything at all; but it’s mine to do as I will.”

He slit open the tab of his left thumb with a quick swipe of his claw. “Do we have a bargain?”

Kagome hesitated. This seemed more annoying than costly- thought being suddenly blind in one eye wasn’t what she’d expected. Was this better or worse?

Did she really feel like she had a choice anymore? 

“Deal.”

With one smooth motion Inuyasha thrust his thumb into her eyesocket. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground and she quickly threw both hands up to cover her face as her left eye burned. As soon as it started, it ended. Kagome blinked slowly, looking around the empty room. It looked exactly as it had an hour ago and if not for the dull ache behind her orbitals and the sweat caking her brow she might have thought it was all a dream. On hands and knees she scrambled across the floor and snatched the small mirror from the desk.

Staring back at her was one of her traditional brown eyes. The other was bloodshot, with a blown pupil, and a bright sapphire blue iris; and without her permission, it winked back at her.

[saltyfishdream]

Kazuha x Reader (Hogwarts AU)

Tags: reverse hurt/comfort, triggered by weather, coping with grief, gn!reader, implied past Kazuha/Friend

Words: 3.8k

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was empty for only you and Professor Minci. You gulped nervously as she started to talk about your consistent “trolling” grade, which you still had to stifle a few laughs from hearing. You grew up in a Muggle family, and of course, the Internet.

She continued with how she tried to put you with other “high-achieving students” (Diluc and Kaeya) to get your grade up or making you sit on your own (after she found that you three together were the perfect stew for chatter) but they “probably weren't the best ways for you”.

“So that's why I'd like to introduce you to your peer tutor,” She finished. Peer tutor? You don't dare raise a brow at the idea even though you wanted to. You were sure that Diluc and Kaeya’s grades dropped that term because of all the chatting in class. Would you distract that peer tutor so much you'd forget about studying in the first place?

A knock on the door stopped your train of thoughts.

“Come in.”

You were first met with red eyes. Not as dark and piercing as the crimson in Diluc's, but a shade closer to the warm flame in the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room despite the fact that he was a Hufflepuff. His hair was white for only a few red strands, which was brushed to his right.

“Kadehara,” Professor Minci continued, “Will be your student tutor this term…”

She went on with a lot of details (like how good a student Kadehara was? Or he's a sixth year who didn’t drop the subject?) that you mostly missed, before noticing that it was almost time for dinner and ushered you two out of the room.

Kadehara said, “[name], are you fine with calling me Kazuha? I'm not really used to being called by my last name–”

You only blurted out the thing that was hanging on your mind from the moment you saw him. “You should put less stress on yourself, or even that red part of your hair will turn white at this rate if you insist on tutoring me.”

Kazuha's eyes widened for a second, probably from confusion.

“A-Ah no, I just bleached and dyed my hair! Kind of, actually. I wanted to dye it all red but the dyeing spell didn't work as well as I'd imagined,” he let out a few dry laughs, even though he didn’t look anything close to feeling awkward or already hating you.

You could feel the warmth creep up your face. Those rumors about the guy who found his hair whitened overnight was total bullcrap! Why would’ve you believed it? Are you fricking stupid? And had to make that tutor think you’re stupid in non-DA stuff? You ask yourself, almost embarrassing yourself in front of Kazuha again by nearly hitting yourself in the head with an imaginary rolled-up newspaper.

And so you both got back to your own tables without saying a word.

.ೃ࿐

“Isn't it time for you to go to that student tutor?” Kaeya asked. You groaned, looking up from the magical equivalent of a Rubik's cube in your hands, the only difference between both is that it keeps tricking you into the wrong steps by changing its colors and giving you riddles then roasts you for not solving the puzzle. It was a Saturday morning and the last thing that you had the mood to do was tutoring.

You pretend to have forgotten about the whole thing. “Tutor? What tutor?”

“The sixth-year who bleached his hair with a spell,” Diluc said, hands subconsciously turning his own cube.

“Ugh, thanks for the reminder.”

That conversation a few days ago had left a much sour taste in your mouth than you'd imagined that you were dreading seeing Kazuha again. Now every time you think of anything related to hair or peer tutoring (which Diluc and Kaeya are very unhelpfully mentioning in every conversation) you would cringe for the next hour about it– even Scara telling everyone that your face keeps turning into a tomato isn’t as embarrassing as that!

Don't know what to do next? Too bad. The words showed on your cube while it made obnoxious booing sounds. Note to self: get self a set of wizarding chess that is not from Dori.

You put the cube down for it to reshuffle in a flurry of colors and launch itself into Kaeya’s hands.

And for once the cube was right. You didn't really know what to do next, go to the library and face Kazuha or think of some random excuse that can convince Professor Minci to let you off the hook.

You left the common room. You knew that Kaeya and Diluc would literally drag you to the library if you stayed for a while longer, and they weren't sick of making hair-dyeing references yet while you were more than sick of the conversation with Kazuha. 

Speak of the devil, he was standing next to the Fat Lady waiting for you.

“Oh, you're finally here.” He said with a smile as if the conversation didn't happen at all. “I thought you… forgot… or something…” Kazuha’s voice trailed off further as he went.

It was so awkward that you hoped that the floor would open up like the stairs did and swallow you whole (which it sadly didn't yet).

It took something like a million years and 20 tokens for you to generate a response, “It- I… lost my book. And notes, so, uh…” 

You haven't even gotten to the part of calling off the tutoring session because of that when Kazuha replied, “That's fine, there are copies of textbooks in the library… it's really a blessing, isn't it?”

You could do nothing but nod and pray for whoever Merlin is to get you out of this cringefest.

.ೃ࿐

You both go to the library in total silence. There weren’t many students in the halls early on a Saturday morning. But you just can’t relax from the lingering threat of awkwardness. You and Kazuha each grabbed a seat at the left third row as a copy of the DA textbook automatically flew to your desk and opened itself on the first page.

“Ah, right. Would it be a bit inconvenient if you don’t have your own notes with you?” He asked while handing you a piece of paper. Yep, it’s the paper you’ve never seen ever since you’ve been to Hogwarts. You put it on your side of the table, your mind as blank as how it looked. “I never had any notes for DA,” you confess. Kazuha exhales deeply. “From now on,” He stated, “You have to start writing your notes.”

You groan. 

“This subject is no fun…” Mumbling under your breath, you take your spare pencil out from your robe pocket, “I have no idea why Diluc and Kaeya could pass without even studying…” They were telling you to “blame everything on the pre-war Ministry” while you were still struggling with who did what. You were that day years old when you knew that Tom Riddle had never been the Minister of Magic.

Kazuha shrugged. “Most Muggle-borns like me have to study it the hard way. I mean– you’ve never known about the society and history and whatever shit we have here so you need, like, plenty of time to get used to it.” He puts his hair down and ties it back up, not giving a care about how he was swearing out loud. In the library.

You begrudgingly force your eyes back to the parchment and textbook. “How much do you mean by ‘plenty of time’? It’s been a term and I’m still trolling every single DA-related assignment.” Holding the urge to gnaw on the end of your pencil back, you finally write down the words “DA notes” on the paper. 

“Can you tell me what the first chapter is about first?” He asks, gesturing to you to close the textbook. You stare at him with the same blank expression as if his head were the DA textbook. The air solidified around you. How on Earth would you know? You’ve never really touched the textbook, and he’s talking about the first chapter? Finally, you confidently tell him your answer which is definitely right. “It’s about how to defend yourself from the Dark Arts!”

Kazuha laughed– not dryly, but fortunately heartily. “Can’t say you’re totally wrong,” He said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “But I think it’s a sign for us to go through this chapter together.”

You start reading the chapter with him, the memories about the incident last week slowly fading to make way for the words in your textbook. The whatever “grim consequences of the Wizarding Wars” didn’t seem as hard as they seem to be, and even better– you finally remember the name Tom Riddle gave himself. (Hint: it’s not Dildo-lover Rat Mom or anything dildo-related) Kazuha seemed to be a way better teacher than Professor Minci– his voice was calming, but didn’t sound boring when he spoke and scribbled down concepts on his parchment.

“You see? It’s not as hard as you’ve imagined!”

Towards the end of the session (did time pass that quick?) you were at the end of the first chapter. There was still half an hour before lunch starts and you were too lazy to go back to the Common Room yet, so you decided to chat for a while while waiting.

“First year DA used to be more fun,” Kazuha sighed, “They had At least that’s what I heard from my seniors.” He puts his own quill and parchment away.

You say, “Define ‘fun’. If you’re talking about some lame Auror droning on about how he peaked in his teenage years and gave his wand to a dead man in the end, don’t count me in.” You weren’t even sure if Harry Potter did ever come back to Hogwarts to do some speech or whatever for the first years–but it’s most likely true if Kaeya told you. Very big thanks to the trust issues everyone you knew gave you after last week. 

Books in the distance flew back onto their shelves, dust falling down onto your table.

“I mean- yeah, Auror Potter did come back to introduce DA for first years, but, that was like, a couple of years ago. And if I were you, I wouldn't say that he's lame.” Kazuha’s round, autumn-like eyes fell, staring at the dust.

The air was lead. And you both were suffocating in it.

A gust of wind blew the invisible lead, along with the dust away. “Anyways, they used to have lessons on the actual stuff besides all those theories. Combatting Boggarts? Check. Resisting Unforgivables? Check. Professors who make up ninety-nine percent of the Dark Arts themselves? Check.”

He kept on talking about how they postponed all that cool stuff to the third year. You would’ve looked forward to fighting off evil creatures but you were more stuck in Kazuha’s reaction to what you said. You had to blurt and now you don’t think he’s feeling totally good with that. Great.

You headed your own ways without a word.

.ೃ࿐

It has been two months since Kazuha started tutoring you, always sitting at the left third row in tutoring sessions. Your DA grades were getting better– definitely not the best, but having four assignments in a row without a “Troll” was progress. You started to control your big, fat mouth in front of him as well. You didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself or having him look at the dust again.

Kazuha was a great guy as well– a cool sixth-year that you could rely on. When you met him out of tutoring, he would wave, or stop for a chat with you, slightly blushing when his friends hooted or whistled behind. His kitten– which perched on his shoulder like a Pikachu– even stretched itself to you when you met Kazuha, begging for a boop on the nose. He sometimes talked about his misadventures as a first year which always made you laugh, but you could sense the hint of something else in it, whether in his gaze or tone.

You were walking alone on the path next to the Great Lake on a sunny afternoon. Diluc and Kaeya were busy talking to Dehya about joining the Quidditch team next year and they told you not to wait for them.

The blonde with the red strand in his hair, sitting next to the lake while putting a maple leaf on the calm water surface. With a gentle swish of his wand the leaf sailed away, leaving two lines on the lake. “Didn’t you watch the Quidditch match?” You ask.

He said, “No, I didn’t.” Before putting another maple leaf onto the water. 

“Come on! You totally missed out on how Gryffindor whooped the butts of all those Slytherins! It took, like, three whole hours before Heizou finally caught the Snitch!” You sat next to him, looking at the maple leaf floating on the water.

Kazuha fidgeted with his wand like how you would spin your pen in class. “I… used to love watching Quidditch, but…” He lost hold of its wand, luckily catching it before it fell into the water, “The person I usually watched playing left. So, yeah.”

“Left in terms of graduated?” You ask.

“You can say it like that.”

He stopped putting leaves into the lake.

You sit in silence with him for a while. Before you leave upon seeing Diluc and Kaeya in the distance.

.ೃ࿐

Another Saturday morning. It's raining so heavily that you thought that someone was pouring buckets of black water down from the roof. Breakfast was over already and you were running late for tutoring so you had to ignore the sensation in your gut.

You grab your textbook and notes and make a mad dash to the library, passing the practically waterfalls of rain along the corridors. You look at your usual seat. He wasn't there yet despite you being already– you look at the clock– ten minutes late.

Huh. That's weird. Maybe he decided to go to a new table today for the view? You look into the dark, barely-illuminated depths of the library. Nope. Not searching by yourself. 

You go up to the front table and ask the librarian Pela if she had seen Kazuha.

Pela shakes her head, before picking back up the doujinshi she was reading.

Feeling like sticking out like a sore thumb, you go back to your usual table. Maybe he just overslept like you did and he was on his way here.

Another ten minutes pass. No sign of Kazuha. You open your textbook and start studying Chapter Nine. But no matter how many times you read it, the words just rebound from your brain and back into the textbook.

You close it a bit too loudly in frustration. Where was he?

“Mmnh?” Kazuha appears in the corridor next to your table, black circles under his puffy eyes. He forces a smile and says, “Sorry for being late, I pulled an all-nighter last night and got to bed at five AM. I got myself some coffee, so… don’t worry too much about me.”

He sets his stuff down on the table and immediately starts explaining the chapter.

“… So Aurors had to undergo strict tests…” He kept speaking, eyes on the textbook. His voice was raspy– not Scara’s oh-im-so-dark-and-mysterious type, but rather the type you get when you catch a cold or have stayed up the whole night crying.

Maybe he caught a cold after pulling an all-nighter. Just maybe.

His words fuse with the pattering of the rain on the windows outside. You can’t comprehend anything he was saying while your mind is running a hundred miles per hour wondering what’s wrong with Kazuha even though you know that it’s technically not your business. You don’t even bother asking yourself to focus– your head was just too occupied with these thoughts.

He didn’t notice the fact you weren’t listening at all. “Nowadays, Aurors still have to- to… fight against… the remaining power of Tom Riddle’s followers…” He said, trailing off at the end of the sentence. You look at him. Then at the textbook, where a whole chart of different events with the corresponding years with the title “Major Breakthroughs in Defending Post-War Magical Britain from Death Eaters” occupied two whole pages.

Kazuha was covering his eyes with both his hands, his elbows resting on the table. You can hear his muffled sniffling.

Well, that was definitely more than a cold.

“Kazuha? Uh- you ok?” You felt stupid asking this question. He is visibly not OK, cold or not. The ball of panic erupted in your head. Is this supposed to be normal? Think, [name], you have to think… Why is he like this? What can I do?

Your pencil feels slippery, and if you keep the tip pressed on your notebook you’d be drawing a seismograph.

You had never seen him like this. Like, of course, you guys just met two months ago and you expect him to be vulnerable in front of you? But you always saw him as the “cool senior student”. 

A flash of lightning.

You ask, “What happened?” as if your head has been struck by a Stupefy. It came out as a whisper.

Kazuha rested his head on the table, not looking at you.

The roaring of thunder broke in the library, not helping with anything at all.

“It- it’s just the weather…” He turned his back against you, conjuring a piece of tissue paper.

You put your pencil down. “Yeah, awful weather, isn’t it?” You say without even thinking, your voice sounding dead.

Lightning struck again, momentarily painting the room in white.

Kazuha closes the textbook. “I’ve always hated rainstorms,” he says, his voice still breaking, “They… they took him away. In the middle of a rainstorm.”

Your train of thought gets cut short by the thunderclap. “I’m… sorry for that.”

“No, y-you don’t have to. It’s not your fault.” The feeble candlelight flickers, illuminating his face. Fresh tears were streaming down his reddened cheeks, his red eyes looking like the Great Lake under the sunset. His light hair was slightly disheveled, which he brushed towards one side. “It’s just that… I never thought that they would be that cruel.”

The pattering sound outside seemed louder. “Tomo… I should’ve… Why didn’t I…” Kazuha muttered under his breath.

“Mind if we, uh, just,” You struggle to find the right words to say, “Talk about it?”

Kazuha nods.

“Tomo… he was a nice friend. A Ravenclaw. He was a fourth-year student when I started studying here…” 

The candles flickered a few more times, teetering at the verge of totally going out before reilluminating itself.

“I got bullied for being a Muggleborn and having a strange accent, he was the only other Japanese guy here and he stood up for me so… we became friends…” He paused.

“I should’ve stopped him from being an Auror if I knew this would happen to him… He could’ve been a good Quidditch player or potionmaker or… I was just happy for him when he told me he passed all the tests last summer but just on his very first mission…”

His voice broke again. You scooted over to him. “He sent me a letter that morning about how he looked forward to it and before I could reply, that evening it rained until the next morning and what I saw on the news was that…”

You patted his back. The wind howled, as if it were weeping as well. Leaves flew by the window, which was barely holding on to the frame. You haven’t even experienced such a storm back where you lived.

“The Death Eaters killed him but didn’t take his wand. His partner told me he could’ve survived if they didn’t fire a second spell at him…”

“They really are… heartless. More than I'd imagined. It must’ve been awful knowing that,” you say.

Kazuha continued, “It was. The first spell landed on his keychain instead… Why were they so bent on… doing this? He fought until the last moment… The keychain… we bought a matching pair at a cheap souvenir store together at Hogsmeade… it cracked when the spell hit…”

“I kept it when they sent it to me. And… his kitten… I guess it helped me keep my mind off stuff for a while.”

The raindrops sounded lighter.

“… he loved cats, but his parents were allergic so he got it after graduation when he got to rent a house with his colleagues and updated me about his life and training along with a photo of his kitten every single day… And he was a good Quidditch player but quit in his sixth year. If he were a Quidditch player maybe he would’ve still been here but not…”

The sky seemed lighter as the heavy rain faded. Kazuha fell silent. “Was he happy? About being an Auror?” You asked.

He nodded. “It… it was his lifelong dream. I had thought of pulling that ‘stealing a Time-turner’ trick in those rumors… but I guess he wouldn't listen if I went back and asked him not to become an Auror. It would’ve been selfish of me to do that but there’s just that part of me that wanted to save him…”

You think aloud, “He wouldn't have regretted anything even in his last moments.”

“Huh?” Kazuha asked.

You’ve done it again. Why can’t you take control of what you say? You stare at him, trying not to let him know that your mind is rolling down the spiral staircase for the rest of the summer.

“You are right. It was always his dream to be an Auror. And he achieved it,” He said, looking back at you.

A few drops of rain clung to the window frame, occasionally dripping down.

“It was just… never your fault, ok? Fudge those Death Eaters, I bet they get haunted by Tomo’s ghost every night that they’ve gone insane in Alakazam,” You tell him, not minding that you’re (almost) swearing out loud in the library.

Kazuha coughed out a few laughs as he wiped off his tears. “It’s Azkaban! Why must you make a Pokemon reference here?”

You put up your most innocuous smile.

The bell rings for lunch.

“Anyways, uh,” Kazuha stutters while tidying up his stuff, “Thanks but... Sorry for… just… venting to you like that…” He blushes, red creeping up from his neck to his face.

You give him a playful slap in the back. “No biggie– as long as you’re feeling fine now.”

You walk out of the library. The thick layer of clouds have disappeared, leaving only a few droplets on the trees and the birds singing.

You part ways at the Great Hall as usual.

[sweeethinny]

cramps

to my little girl who fell asleep on my arm today <3 godmother loves you so much, little Tetê

--

Little Harry had cramps; terrible cramps.

Lily had tried everything, every medicine and potion, but nothing worked.

James had needed to go to Order HQ, which resulted in the two of them alone in the house, and Harry seemed to disapprove of this even more, because every time he stopped crying and Lily laid him down on the bed, he would cry and scream as if she was leaving him to die.

Apollo looked as distressed as she did, because when Harry started crying again and she had to get off the sofa to try to calm him down, the cat started meowing and jumping across the furniture until it was on the highest shelf, behind Lily, watching Harry up close as if he were his child.

The clock seemed stopped in time, Lily hadn't had lunch and it was almost time for dinner, her breast hurt - Harry wasn't able to breastfeed, probably because of the pain that was bothering him - and her blouse was once again starting to get wet in the area of her nipples.

When she sat down to try to breastfeed him, this time in the garden, thinking that maybe the fresh air and the noise of nature would calm him down, the fight continued as before. Harry kept crying to much to focus and find Lily's nipple, and even if she dropped the milk into his mouth, wet her nipple, tried to shift her position, it was no use, and once again they kept fighting until she was sweating, crying, shaking, and he was red, angry, and in pain.

She walked him through the garden, showing him the flowers that had bloomed, the birds feeding near the tree house that James hadn't started building yet - there was just piled wood and the tools in a suitcase, Lily told them to use magic but James wanted something more muggle - and she had Harry sit down on the grass, next to Apollo, who was watching him like a guard dog.

Obviously the boy cried as if Lily had spanked him, but for a few seconds he seemed to enjoy the feeling.

As soon as she re-entered the house, wiping the tears that had leaked from her eyes for a few seconds of despair, James emerged from the fireplace, a burst of green and gray flames flying through their living room, but Lily was so tired that she didn't even bother with the dirt, just sighed relieved to have someone to share that arduous task with.

''Hi,'' She said almost like a ''finally, hi.''

‘'Hi, sorry for the delay, Dumbledore kept talking and–'' Lily cut him off, she really needed to pee and her arm was numb, and she wanted to take some medicine for muscle pain because her back hurt more than she would like to put into words.

''Please make him stop crying.'' Was all she said, handing Harry to James and then leaving the room, running upstairs to their room, wanting ten minutes of pure silence and peace.

She loved her son, but the job was fucking exhausting, and Lily many times a day felt like a failure.

After fifteen minutes — a Silencing Charm preventing her from hearing Harry's screams from downstairs, and only complete silence surrounding her as she was just quiet — Lily came back into the living room. Everything was silent, and she even thought that James had also applied a spell, but when she entered the room, she saw her husband humming a lullaby with Harry lying face down on his forearm, Apollo was sleeping in the armchair next to the radio that was on but very low, and James didn't even notice that Lily had returned.

Harry was clinging to his father's arm as if that was going to save him forever, his eyes were open but starting to feel heavy and drooping — Lily knew it wouldn't last long, he was hungry, but for a few minutes, it would be good for him to sleep — and James looked out the window with the calm of a man who had a gift with children that Lily would never understand, for someone who was an only child.

''He calmed down.'' She said, softly, not wanting to break the bubble of peace.

''Yes,'' James looked at her. ''Moody taught me that before I left,'' He shrugged. ''I tested it and it worked... Do you want to take a shower? I'm going to prepare dinner...''

''Are you going to try to put him to bed?'' Just thinking about it made her shiver.

James denied. ''I'm going to cook with a Sous Chef today,'' They chuckled softly. ''Go there, I'll take care of here.''

[ominous-corridors]

Potions Homework // Garreth Weasley

Garreth Weasley x OC

One Shot

Word count: 2,087

Keep in mind I'm Dyslexic so it might have spelling/grammar/punctuation errors.

Summery: Garreth is wonderful at Potions, so who better to ask for help with homework? And, of course he wouldn't say no. Why would he say no to his friend of seven years? Especially when she makes him feel so nice inside.

Garreth,

I could use some help with my Potions homework.

I’ll be in Sharp's room this afternoon if you have some time.

Emilia 

Emilia let out an anxious breath as the owl flew off with the small piece of parchment in its mouth. Garreth Weasley had been making her anxious a lot, as of late. Something about how she felt the butterflies in her stomach whenever she saw his red hair in the halls, or the way his laugh alone could make her laugh. It didn’t matter why he was laughing, it was just contagious to her. 

She hated not knowing why things happened to her. Why his eyes on her made her face burn. Why she felt little jolts of electricity when their hands touched for just a moment while handing each other potion ingredients in class. Why the time she caught a whiff of his cologne she thought she would melt on the spot. Why she found herself looking for him wherever she went in the damned school. She hated it.

Unbeknownst to her, Garreth had been doing his own version of questioning himself. He had been friends with Emilia since their very first day at the sorting ceremony.

Garreth made his way off one of the boats at the school’s dock. His wobbling legs led him to almost fall between the crack separating the wooden ledge of the small vessel and the solid (and very stable) stone face of the dock. The Black Lake smell was dangerously close to his senses. He hadn’t realized he had his eyes closed until he shot them open at the sudden feeling of someone holding onto his arm. He looked back over his shoulder to see another first year staring down at him, Her pale blue eyes shining in the light of the moon and her loose braid dangling over her shoulder as she leaned over to catch him.

“Are you going to sit like that all night?” She asked him with a small smile.

Oh, she’s a jokester, is she?

“Well, I’ll have you know, I quite like the view of the lake from here,” He shot back with a small smirk of amusement. 

He realized that maybe that wasn’t the best answer in his current situation–being as she could soon as just drop him. Then, as if that was the purpose of his words, she laughed, her shoulders shaking as she chuckled.

And then he felt his arm slipping through her grip.

Suddenly he was cold and wet and peeved.

After some grumbling on his part, and laughing on her’s, she managed to pull him from the lake without getting herself wet in the process. She didn’t give him much more time to complain at her before she cast a drying charm on him with a quick flick of her wand.

She couldn’t help but tease him the whole way up to the castle. And he found himself shooting teases right back at her. 

It was only right that the pair should both be sorted into Gryffindor. Why would someone want to separate such a budding friendship?

He thought about that moment often. How he wouldn’t have his best friend by his side if it wasn’t for a little slip all those years ago. Seven long and brilliant years of friendship with her. She was always right by his side as he tested new potions–and because of that, also right there with him when he gained himself a scolding or detention from Professor Sharp. 

She always laughed at his jokes, ever since that first day. He found himself craving the sound of her laughter more and more as of late. Something about her laughing because of him made his chest swell with pride. It was a good thing he was born with the ability to make people laugh, or he might go crazy searching for the sweet sound that escaped her lips.

Her lips.

That was another thing. He found himself watching her lips as well. He couldn’t tell you why, but he found himself imagining what they felt like. Were they soft? Were they as plump as they looked? 

And that was just a few of the new problems he seemed to be having when she was around. The list seemed  never ending when  he found new things to add to it everyday.

He was brought from his thoughts as something light smacked him in the face.

He blinked a few times and looked down at the envelope now sitting in front of him. It was a good thing he had finished his lunch already, or it would have fallen straight into his plate. 

He turned it over to see his name in a beautiful cursive. He knew exactly who it belonged to and that made his heart start to pick up its pace behind his ribs. 

Without another thought, he almost tore the thing as he hurriedly tried to get to its contents and read the short note. 

–

She slowly made her way back to the castle. Each step made her heart beat faster and harder in her chest. He was just her friend. She wasn’t even sure he would have the time to spare. Her mind swirled with more of those thoughts as she walked through the corridors down to the dungeons. The stone under her feet and surrounding her echoing her steps. 

She could already smell something brewing as the scent wafted through the hallway. She turned the corner into the Potions classroom to see Garreth already there. He had his head bent over a piece of parchment as he took notes. A cauldron was already being heated and ingredients already strewn about the station. 

She couldn’t help the smile that grew quickly on her face as she took in the scene before her.

He had taken his robes and jacket off, opting for just his vest–that he had already unbuttoned–and she noticed his tie hung loosely around the neck of his shirt that he had unbuttoned as well. His sleeves were messily rolled up to his elbows, leaving his wonderfully freckled forearms in plain view for her. 

She felt the heat spreading across her face again as she greedily took him in. 

“Em!” 

She snapped her head to meet his gaze. She realized she had been off in her own world, just standing in the doorway like an idiot.

She smiled and quickly walked over to him, hoping he didn’t realize that she had just been staring at him, “Gar. I see you’re getting started without me.”

He chuckled as he threw a handful of freshly chopped Dittany into the cauldron and stirred it lightly, “So, we’re already starting off grumpy, are we?”

Grumpy? 

“I’m not grumpy.” She crossed her arms.

He turned to face her fully, a look in his eyes she could only explain as mischief, “Not grumpy, eh?”

She nodded, “Not grumpy.”

He looked her up and down for a moment, a devious smirk beginning to pull at his lips, “Hmmm.”

And that’s when it clicked, “Garreth-” 

She was cut off by her own laughter as his fingers lunged into her sides, tickling her furiously. He was laughing too, the bastard. 

She tried to wiggle out of his grip, pleading for him to stop between taking breaths and giggling. He wouldn’t let up, his signature goofy smile on his face the whole time. 

That bloody smile that made her feel warm inside. She turned around to run, but to no avail. He swiftly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into his chest, his fingers still attacking her right side as he did so. 

She hadn’t realized how strong he was. She tried her best to wiggle out of his grip, which only made his arm around her tighten and her back press further into his chest. After another moment, she felt his fingers slow to a stop, his laughter falling away as well. Her hands that were firmly on his arm a moment ago now gently rested, her skin against his. She could feel his breathing against her back as his chest rose and fell with each breath. She could feel those breaths washing down her cheek and neck as they stood there, her still firmly encircled in him. 

She should move, right? Take a step out of his arms. She found, to her surprise, that she didn’t want to. She wanted to stay exactly where she was. Her skin was tingling and her mind was spinning.

Why wasn’t he moving to let her go? Why did she feel like the butterflies in her chest were trying to crawl their way out? Why did she feel safe?

Her mind was brought back to the moment as Garreth gently whispered her name.

She spun her body slightly to look up at him, his hand sliding to rest on her hip as she did so.

Those wonderful green eyes that she loved so much were full of admiration and something she couldn’t quite place.

He spoke, barely a whisper. She wouldn’t have even heard him if they weren’t so close at that moment. She could feel the heat that everyone of his breaths left in its wake on her face, “Emilia…..I’m going to do something, and I don’t know what’s going to happen after, but I can’t hold myself back any more.”

“Wh-”

And then he kissed her.

He kissed her.

If her heart wasn’t already beating a mile a minute, he was now. She took a sharp breath in through her nose as his lips found hers.

His soft, wonderful lips. She had never known she needed something so badly in her life.

Her eyes fluttered closed as his hands made their way to the nape of her neck, thumbs resting gingerly behind her ears. She rested her hands against his chest, which caused him to take another quick breath.

The only sounds that filled the room at that moment were a slowly bubbling cauldron and lips working together gingerly in a wonderfully sweet kiss.

After what felt like forever and not long enough all at once, he spoke again, “I..Wow, I never imagined it would be this nice.” 

“Imagined?” She asked, a little shocked at his confession.

She saw his face grow pink under those freckles she found herself loving more as each second ticked by.

“Well, yeah” He chuckled, “I’ve been dying to kiss you for a lot longer than I’d care to admit.”

She found herself smiling up at him, “Oh, well, in that case. I’ll just have to get the answer out of you.”

He raised a brow questioningly at her, “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that, Miss Findley?”

She smirked, “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“As long as I can kiss you again, I don’t much mind what you do.”

That was all the invitation she needed to practically leap into him as she kissed him again. His lips fought back with a new hunger that was starkly laking before. Like he was being given water after a long walk through a desert. She wasn’t complaining, she found herself to live for the feeling. The feeling of him thirsty for something only she could give him.

She only hoped that he would continue this little study session, together and alone. Anything could happen, right? 

As if he was reading her mind, she quickly felt his hands pick her up and set her on the table next to all of the homework they were supposed to be doing, slotting himself between her legs as he started letting his hands roam. She let out a small gasp as his lips left hers to find the soft skin of her neck, sucking lightly.

She could feel him smile into her skin as she reacted to him, “You do things to me, Em….So many things.”

She couldn’t help but giggle before pulling his head back to look at her, “Well, you can show me what I do to you later. We have homework to get done, and I don’t much feel like failing.”

He pouted, “Oh, come on, just a little?”

She wrapped her fingers around his tie and pulled him in, bringing her lips to his ear, “Later, you can show me whatever you want.”His breath caught as he felt her breath caress his ear. Oh, he would be showing her a lot after they got this blasted Potions homework done.

[leukocytosis-lives]

FFXIVWRITE2024 Day 8 - EXTRA CREDIT - MEDDLE

I like Sanson and Guydelot and I like them pining forever and being too stubborn to do anything about it.

Definitely one I'd like to polish out further in the future.

Spoilers for up to the level 83 dungeon. I believe. There is brief mentions of suggestive things.

“No, I will not room with him!” Sanson shouts as he bursts into Anew’s room, where he sat, unphased, conditioning his harpbow.

He eyes Sanson as he sets down his oil and laughs. “It’s cute you think you have a choice in the matter.”

“I do not understand. I had set aside enough funds for this expedition so none of us would have to share rooms. What happened?” Sanson certainly wasn't proving Guydelot’s nickname for him wrong as he slams the door behind him. “Please.”

At least he has the decency to look embarrassed about the scene he's making.

“They didn't have enough rooms. ‘Sides, I thought you'd settled your differences ages ago?” Anew asks, trying to read into his friend's expression. Why is this a problem again?

“Yes, but…. Let me stay with you. I cannot survive a night with him, let alone a week. He's a-a… philanderer!” Sanson spills out his words quickly, tripping over his tongue.

Gods, it is too early for this. Anew sets down his bow and closes the door.

“Okay, Sanson. We are going to play a little game. What are you afraid of?”

“He might bring someone back to the room and I'll have nowhere to stay. You know how he likes to fraternize!” Sanson’s cheeks are flushed red at the prospect.

“Breathe, Sanson. Why are you afraid of that?” Anew asks calmly, having been here a dozen times before with the other man.

Even after they'd both served with the Islabard Contingent, Sanson was still in heavy denial of his feelings. Anew was a patient man with his friends, but he needed Sanson to get his head out of his arse.

“I don't want to have to sleep outside.”

“No. We both know that isn't the right answer and it hasn't been for a long time. Why are you lying to me? To yourself?”

“Anew, I have no idea where you've gotten that idea. I'd never-”

“Or do I need to spell this out in another way? You want his c-” Anew starts, shit-eating grin on his face. He's going to make Sanson say everything.

“Enough! Fine. Fine. I concede,” Sanson says as he finally sits down on the edge of the bed. “I will admit I… I have feelings for Guydelot.”

“And…?”

“I guess I need to tell him.” Sanson worries with the edge of his jacket, staring at a spot on the floor. He seems considerably calmer than before.

“You do. And you should, soon, before he finds someone to kill time with tonight. Though, he would drop anything for you, you know.”

“I'll go find him now,” Sanson says, determined.

“Good luck, my friend. Be safe,” Anew calls after him with a wink.

Sanson flushes, turning his head away as he runs off to his room across the hall.

[chireikiden]

What are the things in lore you would say ZUN 100% retconned/later ignored in regards to his own material?

This was a pretty broad question to answer at the drop of a hat, so I let it sit in my inbox for a while and wrote down a couple things that came to mind in the meantime.

As we all know, yadda yadda, Touhou is very good at simply not bringing things up again, and thus you can very rarely argue that some individual thing has been outright retconned based simply on its absence in later works. Add unreliable narrators on top, and that only really leaves the very clear contradictions.

Early Windows stuff: You can surely find more if you crawl more carefully than I felt like doing, but here’s some that I remember. The EoSD prologue tells us that Gensokyo is just a seldom visited region in the mountains with a few random humans living amongst monsters, implicitly no Human Village, and no barrier around it. Reimu is worried that the red mist would basically flow out of Gensokyo and into what we'd now consider "the Outside World", which may or may not be aware of Gensokyo and just ignoring it. It's not hard at all to slot into the current setting by moving around a couple things, but read on its own without anachronistic assumptions it's clearly different. Basically, it's a good example of how the essentials of Gensokyo as a setting really weren't fully formed until at least a couple games later.

As an extension of that, I think a lot of things associated with EoSD - like the preceding Vampire Incident, the spell card rules, or even the SDM being newcomers to Gensokyo - weren’t even a twinkle in ZUN’s eye at the time he made EoSD, and were only retconned into existence starting roughly with PMiSS. (Them being newcomers is arguable based on stuff like Reimu not knowing the mansion was there, but that’s also easily explained by Reimu being Reimu.)

PCB starts fleshing things out a bit more and has fewer outright contradictions, but still for example claims/implies that humans sealed up Gensokyo in order to lock the youkai inside. Not irreconcilable, especially if you assume an unreliable narrator yadda yadda, but I think it’s fair to consider it retconned.

By the time of IN, the main pieces are more or less in place and there’s a lot less stuff that would need to be retconned later on, but you can still find some messiness especially related to the Moon if you want to read it that way.

Reimu’s luck: While it’s come up on rare occasion, typically in the form of her “intuition” but also in LE where she uses it for gambling, I don’t think it’s ever again been anywhere near as extreme as that time in EaLND where she walked over a river by happening to step on random fish. If anything, she usually seems pretty unlucky at everything that isn’t specifically gambling or solving incidents, but that might be its own hair to split.

Just for bonus points: Since it’s been on my mind. The literal meaning of retcon is “retroactive continuity”. I think the manga, games etc. typically work on a Schrödinger’s Timeline that simply doesn’t exist until it is directly referenced somehow, and even then it’s only loosely defined. For example, CDS and Lotus Eaters started around the same time (in real life), which was also when the first Gouyoku Ibun demo came out. Lotus Eaters could be making long time skips for all we know, but the events of CDS have probably spanned only a couple weeks at most.

And now we have Lotus Eaters' latest chapters taking place shortly after the events of Gouyoku. In that case, when Yukari summons Flan into the Underground to act as her ballistic missile in CDS, is she doing it before or after Okina did literally the same thing in Gouyoku? When does CDS take place in relation to Gouyoku, or any given LE chapter? Or does it, and every Touhou story, merely take place “now”, even if it started in 2019 and it’s now 2023?

Since Touhou stories tend to only reference each other when they feel like it and are otherwise perfectly comfortable just not bringing it up in any way, there’s a good chance we’ll never know. Or they could simply say something in the next chapter just because. But usually not.

[winterpinetrees]

A Phone Call (The Gap Years part 30)

July 21st 2019

The Scapegoat Wilderness, MT

On the worst night of their lives, the party get an unexpected phone call.

We are two or three chapters from the end of "book" 1. I can't believe it. I made a thing!

.......................

There is an empty moment after Jezero staggers into the clearing and reveals that Sierra is gone. It reminds Marin of the moment after a killing blow, when fatal damage has been done but the body hasn’t quite realized.

Brian shakes his head and takes a step back. “What do you mean, she was gone? She-she got kidnapped?”

Clay rolls back on his heels and looks up at the sky. “Oh, we screwed up. Brian, the message. It said where Sierra would be. The guards must have gotten there first”. 

“No, that doesn’t make sense. She was armed, she had a gun and the loudspeaker, it only took a few minutes for you to get there. She couldn’t have been gone”.

Jezero gives Brian a look of what might be sympathy. It’s a bit like a smile, a bit like a grimace, and slightly lopsided like most of their expressions. One of his fangs shows. “The guards had magic. They must have charmed her and moved quickly. Soldiers were waiting for us inside”.  

Brian is breathing too quickly. The boy smiles madly and starts to laugh. The whole scene feels distant. Should Marin run to him? Should he cast a spell? The boy hunches over, nearly convulsing with laughter and despair. Clay catches him when his knees give out. Finally, Marin spurs himself to action. He kneels beside them while Zerada runs to her brother. Clay’s behavior is the perfect opposite. His voice is level and he doesn’t make any moves. He’s not calm though. Clay is like a rabbit frozen in the grass. He has the face of his mother on that night he only vaguely remembers, the first time he saw her with her shining helm and scepter when he looked up into its emerald glass eyes and didn’t recognize her at all. His innocent memory says she was wearing red armor, but he knows it had to have been blood. 

Somehow he finds himself holding Brian and petting his blond hair. Some of the strands at the back are stiff with blood. He thinks it helps. Somehow they manage to fall asleep that night, deciding that if they plan anything it won’t be tonight. He wonders if Jezero is using Sierra’s sleeping bag. It’s not like he’d care. The truth is that Marin doesn’t have trouble sleeping. High nobility are so fragile that they need their rest, and he’s learned how to fall asleep as a skill. There’s probably an old edit to his genome that makes it even easier, but he never memorized that sort of thing. Even without those gifts, Marin’s feeling pretty good. He does miss her of course, but Sierra really doesn’t know anything, and now he has his family. This whole scheme might actually work! Of course, the humans are distraught enough to kill if they knew.

So Marin covers his hair and sleeps but does not dream while Clay and Brian have the worst night of their lives. He doesn’t know that they once again discuss surrender because there’s no way to explain this to Sierra’s actually loving parents. They don’t have a proper plan, but Clay will do anything for his friends and neither of them can get the metaphorical blood off of their hands. Then, at around two in the morning, Clay’s satellite phone rings. 

It wakes up all three boys in the tent. Clay feels for his glasses and reads the number on the screen. 

“I don’t recognize the number, but it’s a San Francisco area code?” 

Brian crosses his arms. “I swear if we’re getting a spam call…”

“Sierra-” Clay nearly drops the phone. “She added some junk to block calls. This isn’t a normal scammer. I’ll decline it. If it’s important they’ll call again”. 

He does. He places the bulky phone onto the plastic floor of the tent. A minute later, it rings again from the same number. The dim glow of the screen lights up all of their faces.

“Wait, Marin, can we get charmed through a phone?” Clay asks. 

Marin says no, and so he picks up the phone and sets it to speakerphone. Immediately they hear a voice. It’s been distorted by a voice changer into something rough and warbling. The words are clear, but none of them can make out an accent or guess a gender.  

“Have I reached Clayton Shepard?” It asks.

“This is he. What do you want?” Clay rests his chin on one hand and doesn’t emote at all.

“You have another ally. I am a servant in the palace and I have access to internal documents. I know where they are keeping Sierra”. 

Setting the tent on fire could not have gotten a greater reaction. Marin is the only one with any sense. 

“How do I know you aren’t leading us into a trap?”

“I am a human. I do not approve of this conquest. Without Sierra, the Mercurali will certainly succeed. I have to act while I still can”. 

Marin isn’t so sure that Sierra is the key, but he stays quiet. 

“How do you have this information?” 

“I am a servant in the palace. I handle paperwork”. 

“On what level? For who? What’s your pedigree?”

Brian raises a hand in the dark. “Back up, is that a so-called normal thing to ask a human? You go around asking that like someone’s a racehorse?”

“I will not disclose that information as I cannot guarantee that this line is secure. I am wildblood, if that makes you more willing to trust me”. 

Marin scoffs. Having recent wild heritage and maybe even the inherited trauma of an abduction could explain why a palace worker would rebel. The dialogue is so methodical though. Is this even a person?

“I am trying to help you, your highness. Do you want it?”

Brian takes the phone himself. “YES. Yes we do want it. Where is Sierra!”

“Thank you, Brian. Sierra is being transported to the old laboratory in the Excalibur ruins, where you raided a month ago”. 

Well… it’s as their informant said. They raided that place a month ago. It’s too easy. Why not take her into the elven world, and then across an ocean or two? 

“That would make a rescue suspiciously possible,” Marin replies. 

“I know! That’s why we swayed Councillor Eburos to claim her for plague testing. It was not so hard. Questionable decisions happen often during times of crisis”.

The boys look at each other and the surprise on each other's shadowed faces. It seems their informant is more than just a paper-pusher. There’s bad news though. 

“Plague testing,” Clay says as though the words hurt to say. 

“She will not be infected with anything for five days at least. Councillor Eburos is very specific about intake protocol. Even then, she will not die”. 

“Is not dying is worse?”

“That would depend on who takes possession of her. She is already a legendary figure for traveling with Prince Marin, which may protect her. It also may not”. 

They all pause for a moment. Marin nearly says something absurd about Lazarus’s reforms to protect humans from all sorts of abuse, but he knows those are easy to dodge. There was a scandal when he was very young after a kidnapped wilder exposed the entire racket that brought her to the elven world. His mother gave her a title and a royal favor as a reward, but he forgets what it was used for. Rivka something or other, bringer of justice. She must have passed away from old age by now. 

Brian takes a shuddering breath. “How long do we have? Before they fake her death and we have to reveal everything, I mean”.

“According to the files, you have not spoken much with your families. That means a disappearance could go unknown for several days. However, the Mercurali would rather kill you all than risk you revealing the truth. They are already watching your families”.

“Okay. Fun. Can we keep using this number? How do we contact you?”

“I can access your phones in any way that is convenient, but you must remember that this is treason. I can speak during the second hour of the night, about 1:30 to 3am in your hours, and may see messages at other times, but you should not expect quick replies”.  

Zerada and Jezero, probably woken up by their loud reaction to learning that Sierra is almost in reach, poke their heads into the tent. They’ve been inseparable since Jezero returned. He can understand why. Marin doesn’t have any siblings (which is a bit odd for the high nobility) but he remembers his relief when Zera called. He’s realizing that they’ll probably split from the party now that his arm is mostly healed. The car only seats five, and it might be better for him to lay low. She smiles and leans closer to the phone that Brian is holding. “Good on you for having boundaries”.

“Your Grace, I assure you I would make myself more useful to this team if I could”.

Her brother crouches in the doorway. “I like her”. 

Brian looks over his shoulder in confusion. “Her? You can tell?”

“I can guess the original sound. The speaker is probably a young human female”.

“Lord Adust is right,” the voice says, suddenly afraid. “I assume you wish to claim that title. You are not the eldest surviving Adust, but you were the eldest acknowledged heir”. 

He pauses and looks at his sister. She rolls her eyes, elbows him in the side, and waves him on. “ I do”. 

Their little tent in the woods holds a prince, a noblewoman, a new lord and the son of a governor. There is also a son of a billionaire, but he’s no heir at all and all these titles are making him uncomfortable. “What should we call you? Unless you want to be our mysterious voice forever,” 

This causes the longest pause yet. The voice changer crackles without an input. “I have no qualms with staying a mysterious voice until I add a few more layers of security”. 

Brian’s eyes go wide. “A few more?”

“Treason, remember?”

He opens the phone to it’s list of contacts. “I’m sorry, I really can’t call you The Mysterious Voice. Does ‘The Spy’ work for you?” 

“That sounds so blunt. I’d prefer you think of me as an emissary. You can think up a silly nickname from that”. 

They look at each other and smile. Marin blurts out Emmy or Essie the Emissary, only for Brian to cut him off with definition of the word and how it doesn’t really fit the situation, no matter what she wants.  

The distorted voice from the phone doesn’t care. “I like that second one”. 

“An emissary is a diplomat! You’re an informant at best”.

“Brian Whitaker, my job is to be pedantic. Trust me”. 

He hands the phone to Clay. “Oh, we have to trust you, Essie. I’ll get a notebook. Tell us everything you know”’.

Marin doesn't believe for a second that she actually does tell them everything, but it might just be enough.  

…………….....

Elven days are 18 hours long, but each hour is 80 minutes. The high council, Voyagers, and many other elves do the biphasic sleep thing where they wake up for an hour or two in the middle of the night but go to sleep earlier. Esther fakes that she can’t manage that sleep schedule to get an hour of free time in the night. 

Esther’s codename was originally going to be Emmett, but I had second thoughts about the symbolism and it sounds too much like Emer anyway. Instead, she tricks the gang into giving her a nickname she’s already using with Amedi, but with plausible deniability this time!

Next time, we see what Sierra and Amedi are dealing with (eachother).

@lokiwaffles @reggie246