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midascrow · 2 months

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Alastor x Reader

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Favoritism Pt.2(1.5)

Part 1

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Synopsis: Alastor finds himself wondering why exactly he favors you so much

a/n: this is more of a part 1.5 really, as it’s mostly just Alastair’s perspective of what’s going on, but I figured you guys would enjoy this 🍓

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Fluffy red ears twitched back and fourth, listening to the idle and mindless chatter of the hotel inhabitants.

Alastor couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of mirth at the topic of discussion. While he made no attempts to hide his blatant bias, he hadn’t thought he was quite that obvious.

Though a tiny part of him felt a bit smug, especially at the claim of that empty headed serpent. A kiss?

The idea wasn’t unpleasant but he was unfortunately mistaken.

The two of you had never shared such an intimate gesture, much less in the company of others.

No-, he supposed the closest you had ever gotten was a small bump of the nose to one another’s. It wasn’t an inherently romantic gesture on the radio demons part, more instinctual than anything, but he could suppose there had been a certain layer of affection lined in the action nonetheless.

“What do you suppose they’re talking about Al..?”

His ears twitched forward to fully take in the sound of your candied voice.

Alastor didn’t consider himself a fan of sweet things like candy and cakes. But he always seemed to make an exception when it came to you.

“Hm..~ Seems our dear friends are under the impression that you and I are…an item of sorts.” His smile twitched, inching upwards with amusement when he saw the way your eyes widened, a warmth on your cheeks that roused a small huff of pride from his nose.

“Oh…well that doesn’t..upset you?…right?” Your concern is down right precious. So bothered with his comfort that it makes the fabric of his tail coat shift, just briefly.

“Hmm~…perhaps if it were another sinner who they believed I had such relations with. However because it’s you my dear, I can’t seem to find myself bothered by the idea.”

You were far too naive. (Cute). Your sparkly gaze almost made him angry. Like he wanted to squeeze you till it eased the tight sensation in his chest. Though he wouldn’t dare to act on such an impulse. For fear of losing such pleasant company of course.

But he couldn’t stop himself from teasing you. Just a little. “Infact…I’d say I’m rather flattered by the notion~. To think they see me a fit partner for a gem like you.”

That feeling got subsequently stronger as he watched you bury your face into the crook of your shoulder, a shy, perhaps embarrassed smile painting your lips and making a that shifting of his tail coat return. Like those aforementioned sweets had found their way into his system and subsequently thrown him into a vicious sugar rush. His heart was practically bouncing off the walls of his ribcage, though he hadn't the faintest idea why.

“Alastor…” His name was a garbled whine, swatting at him playfully as you returned to dusting the bannister, distracting yourself as he sidled beside you still, ever attendant while his shadow fluttered around, moving glasses and nicknacks for you to dust off. “Are you going to tell them then..?”

“What ever do you mean?”

Your eyes glanced back, lips pursed. “Well…you are going to tell them we’re not together right?”

Well that sounded unpleasant, and his immediate thought had been an internal grimace. But he pondered the thought for a moment, mindful of the eyes on both your backs as he stepped around the side of you, clawed hands dancing across your shoulder and arm thoughtfully.

“Hmm…~..No.”

He paused, ears twitched backwards as his lips connected gently with the skin of your nose, sweet and lingering as he failed to ignore the twitch of his grin at the gasps that echoed behind.

“No fucking way.”

“I say let them wonder..~”

……

Alastor could admit, even by his standards this was a bit mean.

His “loving” gestures had amped up quite a bit the following week at the hotel.

Lingering touches, thoughtful hand placements, small gestures and sweet words. Nothing explicitly romantic…but there was always something implied in his gaze that perhaps even he himself wasn't aware of.

It wasn’t in an intentional effort to lead you on. He was hardly that cruel. But some part of him…found deep satisfaction in watching your eyes shine and your cheeks darken and become hot.

And that itch had only gotten worse too.

Sometimes it was small. An urge to pinch your cheek which he acted on, mindful of his claws in doing so. His ears always twitched at your disgruntled whines, always tuned to your words and noises. Even unintentionally.

There had been one moment when, your silly little self had gotten caught on that same rug, again. Alastor had been on the other side of the room, but the moment your squeak reached his ears, they swiveled back, and a mass of tentacles lurched up from the ground, gently rolling you onto you greet before disappearing like they had never existed.

And Alastor hadn’t even turned around, still idly chatting with the stunned princess who barely hid her ever widening smile.

Husker seemed the most displeased with his current antics. Always preaching to the others that this was a trick. That he was playing with you. Toying with you.

The radio demon wished that was the case now.

Frankly, he wasn’t sure why he was doing it. He knew he favored you above the others. That was natural. Instinctual. Obvious. And while the others reactions, especially those of the spear wielding ex angel and the gambler were fairly amusing, if that had been the soul purpose it was likely he would’ve grown bored by now. And he would’ve stopped.

But it wasn’t. And he hadn’t.

And it was all becoming a bit overwhelming.

Yet you didn’t question it. Sometimes your brow would raise, at a particularly bold gesture or comment sent your way, and yes your eyes would dart around as if to see who was watching. But you never complained. And if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were enjoying yourself, if the sweetheart smile that graced your lips after each instance was anything to go off.

So Alastor didn’t feel the need to label what he was experiencing or truly ponder why. He was enjoying himself, as were you. To him, nothing needed to be said.

“So are you two bangin or nah?”

Though he supposed not everyone felt the same.

Taglist: @preciousbabypeter @ouroborostheunholy @chirimeimei @shanksstrawhat @for-hearthand-home @random-3455 @ittoehurt @salutations-demonsanddappers

(Anyone who wanted to be tagged and wasn’t, for whatever reason your blogs weren’t showing up,🍓)

#x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor

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theostrophywife · 3 months

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poison paradise.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: toxic by omido.

author's note: smutty unhinged theo won the poll. here’s your silly little treat. this came to me in a dream proving that even my subconscious isn't safe from theodore. this is pure filth, but ya'll already know that that's what i do best 🤪

The taste of cherry chapstick lingered on your tongue as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Lost in euphoria, you cried out just as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, dragging you to the depths of sensual self-indulgence.

Back arching off the bed. Fingers gripping the sheets. Moans echoing off the walls.

This was hedonism at its finest.

The heady scent of sweat, skin, and sex permeated in the air long after your orgasm passed, inducing you into a foggy haze as you scrambled to anchor yourself back to the present. Between your legs, your girlfriend lifted her head up with a pleased smirk and pressed a chaste kiss against your lips.

The kiss tasted like cum and cherries, a sweet and intoxicating combination that sent your head spinning. Hannah hummed, her pretty doe eyes focused on you while your own fluttered open.

“Babe, I’ve really got to get to practice now,” she whispered softly. “I’m late enough as it is.”

You chuckled, twirling a strand of her red hair between your fingers. “Whose fault is that? You’re the one who dragged me in here, love.”

Hannah grinned sheepishly as she pulled your red and gold skirt down. “Can you blame me? I can’t control myself when you’re strutting about in your cheer uniform.”

“Then go out there and give me something to cheer about, babe. I expect a win against Slytherin tomorrow.”

“If Potter doesn’t kill me first for being late,” she said with a final kiss to your cheek. “See you after practice?”

You nodded as you tossed her jersey over. “I’ll be here.”

After taking a much needed shower, you sat in front of the vanity and blasted music as you diligently adhered to your skincare routine. The best thing about having a girlfriend was that you shared everything. Since dating Hannah, your makeup, clothes, and shoe options doubled overnight.

As you combed through your hair, a sudden knock at the door caught your attention. You figured it was just a courtesy from Hannah’s roommate. Merlin knows that the poor witch had walked in on you and your girlfriend in countless compromising positions.

Tightening the scarlet robe around your waist, you sauntered over to the door, fully expecting Emma to greet you from the other side. Instead, a looming figure eclipsed the doorway. You were surprised to find none other than Theodore Nott staring back at you.

While you two weren’t exactly the best of friends given the rivalry between your houses, you and Theo were civil. You sat beside each other in Herbology and occasionally shared a laugh every time you caught him muttering sarcastic remarks under his breath about the ridiculous bloody plants that Professor Sprout had you wrangling during class.

“Well, what do we have here?” you teased, cocking your head at the dead eyed Slytherin. “A serpent in the lion’s den? What brings you behind enemy lines, Theo?”

Theo smiled back in response, shuffling a bit and allowing a glimpse of the wine bottle and bouquet of roses cradled in his arms. “Waiting for my girlfriend to leave so I can set this up for our anniversary.”

You grinned. “Oh, how romantic!” You had always been a sucker for cheesy gestures. It was the hopeless romantic in you. “Come in, then.”

To his credit, Theo kept his eyes firmly on your face as you ushered him inside the room. Taking the hint, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom and changed into something a little less revealing than your silk robe. When you came out, Theo was sprinkling rose petals on the bed.

“Those are gorgeous,” you fawned over the flowers. “You’re definitely getting laid tonight.”

Theo smirked in response as he set the vintage wine bottle into a fancy crystal ice bucket. “That’s the plan.”

Slipping into your fuzzy slippers, you cocked your head at the arrangement. “Wait. I think you set it up on the wrong side. Emma’s bed is over there.”

Theo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know. This is for Hannah.”

Whatever warm, fuzzy feeling his sweet gesture invoked suddenly soured at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “What do you mean it’s for Hannah?”

“Hannah,” Theo repeated slowly. “As in, my girlfriend, Hannah.”

The words hit you like the Hogwarts Express. Surely, Theo was mistaken. He had to be. That was the only explanation. “This can’t be right. I’m sure I heard you wrong. You can’t be dating Hannah.”

The confusion in your face was mirrored in Theo’s features. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m dating Hannah.”

Theo stared at you. You stared back. The room fell silent as the declaration hung heavy in the air.

“Wait,” he backtracked, furrowing his brows. “What? That’s not possible.”

“We’ve been dating since term started.”

“We’ve been dating since summer,” Theo countered. Disbelief dawned over his handsome features. “This is for our three month anniversary.”

Desperate to make sense of the situation, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photo album. It didn’t take long to find a recent picture of you and Hannah. “See?” you said, pointing at the screen. “This is us sharing a hot fudge sundae in Hogsmeade just last weekend.”

Theo’s mouth gaped open as he pulled out his phone in response, scrolling through his pictures just as you had done moments ago. “This is us swimming in the lake last July.”

The photo of your girlfriend smiling up at the camera while Theo’s arms wrapped around her bikini clad body made your stomach plummet. The confirmation left a bitter taste on your tongue. There was no reason for Theo to be making this up, which left only one possible conclusion. Hannah was dating both of you. At the same time.

You pursed your lips. “Hannah played us both.”

Theo looked about as dejected as you felt. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” he muttered to himself.

“All that tension between you during the quidditch match,” you recalled. The lingering looks that Hannah and Theo shared during last month’s scrimmage flashed before your very eyes. In hindsight, it was obvious that there was more to it than rivalry.

“You know, I think I saw her kiss you on the cheek in the halls once, but she said that the two of you were just really close.”

“Oh, we are,” you said rather bitterly. “She’s kissed a lot more than my cheeks. Gods, how could I have been so stupid?”

“You’re not stupid,” Theo said softly. “How could we have known? Outside of Herbology, the two of us don’t really interact. We’re in different houses and our social circles rarely overlap. If you think about it, it’s actually the perfect plan.”

“Yes, bravo to our girlfriend for being the cleverest fucking liar in the castle.” You winced at the title. "Correction, ex-girlfriend."

Nott nodded in agreement. "Definitely ex-girlfriend."

"What a bloody mess."

Theo rubbed his temples. “Well, fuck.” The sentiment of total and utter confusion was one you knew all too well. “I am way too sober for this.”

Without a word, he swiped the bottle of wine from the crystal bucket and popped it open. You stared at him with slight bewilderment, which he responded to with a nonchalant shrug. “What? It’s not like I’m going to drink this with Hannah now after I found out that she’s been lying to me for three whole months.”

While Theo was taking the perfectly understandable approach of getting absolutely pissed off his arse, you weren’t willing to take the hit so easily. You were angry. Correction, you were fucking livid. Seething in the heat of your fury, you snatched the wine bottle from Theo’s grasp and chugged a good amount.

“That’s a vintage from my family’s vineyard. You’re supposed to sip slowly to really appreciate the flavor—“ Theo grimaced as you leveled him with a glare. “Or drown yourself in it. That’s fine, too.”

You swayed on your feet as you gestured dramatically. “I can’t believe she cheated on me!”

Who the fuck did Hannah think she was? You didn’t need this bullshit. She was the one who chased after you. Before she pursued you, you were perfectly fine ruling this school under your thumb, flashing pretty smiles and innocent doe eyed looks to the unsuspecting masses. You were head cheerleader, for fuck’s sake! You could’ve had your pick of boys and girls in this whole bloody castle. Even worse, Hannah dragged Theo into this too. While the Slytherins certainly had a reputation, he seemed sweet if not a little sardonic and cynical at times.

”I can’t believe she cheated on you.” You added, surveying the now tainted roses and wine. Indignation weighed heavily on every word. You and Theo were both hot as fuck and a complete catch. Neither of you deserved this. “We can’t let her get away with this.”

Theo sighed in response, taking the bottle from you and drinking a decent amount before wiping his wine stained lips with the back of his hand. “If I’m being honest, this isn’t the first time a relationship has imploded on me. Usually, it’s my fault. But I can’t say I’ve ever gotten cheated on. My ego’s taken a little bit of a blow, but what can we do? She fooled us both.”

“What can we do?” You repeated incredulously. “Obviously, you haven’t dealt with a Gryffindor’s wrath before. This is a matter of pride, Theo. She hit us where it hurts the most. I say we hit her back.”

Theo blanched, his watercolor eyes glazed from the alcohol. The wine was no joke. You never would’ve known it from the smooth taste, but this shit was strong. “As upset as I am, I hardly think violence is the answer. My mum told me to never raise a hand against a lady and I don’t intend on breaking that promise. No matter how angry I may be.”

For the first time in that fucked up night, you managed a laugh. Something about that was so endearing to you. “Relax, Nott. I don’t mean we hurt her physically. That’s not really my style. I have a much more effective way to enact revenge.” Your lips curled into a smile as Theo hung onto every word. “We’re going to wage psychological warfare on our ex-girlfriend, Theo.”

“I’ll confess I’m a little bit scared,” Theo declared as he gulped down the last of the wine. “And a little bit turned on. Guess that says a lot about me, huh?”

You smirked as you retrieved the wine bottle and gingerly set it on the nightstand. Theo glanced up at you curiously, anticipation evident on his handsome face. “What exactly is the plan, dolcezza?”

Whether it was the alcohol or your anger, a devious plan started forming as you looked over your ex-girlfriend’s now ex-boyfriend. “Hannah comes back from practice in an hour,” you stated, toying with the neck of the bottle. “She’s expecting to find me in bed waiting for her.”

Mischief danced in Theo’s eyes. Up close, you could see flecks of green swimming in his blue irises. Those mesmerizing eyes—the very same ones that had the entire castle weak in the knees—locked on yours. Now that you were single through no fault of your own, you had no reason not to ogle Theo and ogle you did. Your gaze flickered over his lean physique, examining his solid chest and broad shoulders before snagging on the sliver of skin that revealed the hard abdominal muscles beneath his light grey shirt as he stretched. A cocky smirk graced his handsome face when he caught you looking.

Merlin, he was fucking pretty.

How had you not noticed that before? Oh, right. You were too busy being a good girlfriend. Well, fuck that.

“Oh?” He murmured, his gaze flickering over you.

Though you changed into a baggy shirt and cotton shorts, you might as well have been naked with the way Theo was looking at you. His dead eyed stare burned holes into your skin and a shiver crawled up your spine as he gravitated closer.

“And she will,” you said with a smirk, closing the gap between you. “You’ll just be in it with me.”

“Oh,” Theo hummed salaciously.

“Wouldn’t wanna waste those pretty roses you got, do we?”

The low rasp of your voice seemed to entrance Theo as he shook his head, appearing dazed as you pulled him in by the front of his shirt. “No, no at all. We should…” The nervous bob of his Adam’s apple sent a thrill through your body. “We should definitely make use of them.”

With a grin, you led him towards the bed. Theo walked backwards, his eyes never leaving yours even as he landed on the mattress. The golden glow of the lamp kissed his sharp cheekbones, its warm hue coloring the slope of his nose, which were smattered with moles and freckles, before emphasizing his wine stained lips. The red roses fluttered around him as the bed dipped, soft petals tickling his skin as he settled against the headboard.

Theo felt like he was under a spell as you crawled over him. He couldn’t tell whether he was dizzy from the wine or if it was just the effect you had on him, but either way, he wasn’t complaining. There were worse things to suffer from than a pretty witch straddling his lap.

Instinctively, Theo gripped your waist while you settled over him. The sight of you leaning over him, your face mere inches away from his felt like a fever dream. One that he had no desire of waking up from.

“I thought you liked girls,” Theo whispered softly as your lips brushed over his. Teasing, taunting, tasting. Fuck, what he would give to have you devour him whole.

“I do,” you replied, tickling his cheek with a rose petal. Theo shivered as the low rasp of your voice pulled him in. “But I like boys too. Especially pretty ones like you.”

Theo couldn’t help but blush. Obviously, he was aware that he was attractive, but he’d never been called pretty before. He was surprised to find that he really fucking liked it.

“Don’t flatter me, dolcezza. Not unless you plan on following through.”

“I’ve never been with a Slytherin before,” you whispered huskily. “Tell me, Theo. Will you sink your teeth into me tonight?”

A part of him pondered the slightly fucked up situation that Theo managed to get himself into tonight. Was he really about to fuck his ex-girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend in her own bed? Yes. Did he feel an ounce of guilt over what he was about to do? No.

Honestly, fuck Hannah. But more importantly, Theo needed to focus on fucking you.

“Fuck yes.”

When you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, it was over. There wasn’t a single trace of self control in him as he kissed back, his mouth hot and eager against yours. The infamous Gryffindor boldness didn’t disappoint as you moaned into his mouth, your fingers threading through his silky brown waves before tugging in a way that made Theo weak in the knees. As he parted your lips with his tongue, you grinded against him and laughed seductively when he whimpered in response.

“Yeah?” you purred as you rolled your hips. “You like that, pretty boy?”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Theo groaned before he kissed you again, rougher this time.

There was something satisfying about the way he grabbed you, his big hands guiding you to grind over him, providing a delicious friction between your clothed sex. Theo was hard and throbbing underneath you. By the feel of him, you knew you were in for a ride. The sheer size of him was going to absolutely destroy you.

You pulled away and a glistening trail of spit extended between you as a result of your sloppy make out. Theo panted as you tugged at the hem of his shirt, keeping your eyes trained on him while you licked a path down his abdomen. He watched hungrily as you grazed your teeth over his hard muscles, flicking your tongue expertly while he shuddered underneath you.

“I can see why Hannah went for you,” you hummed against his tan skin. “You’re hot as fuck. Your abs are unreal and your happy trail,” Theo groaned as you pressed soft kisses along his torso. “It leads to something delicious, doesn’t it?”

“Fuck, bella. You’re killing me,” Theo groaned as he fisted your hair in one hand. The whimper that slipped past his lips as you palmed his cock was utterly shameless. “You’ve got a filthy fucking mouth, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Shut me up, then.”

His head lolled back against the headboard as you released his cock from his boxers, stroking purposefully and savoring the filthy moans that echoed against the walls. Those pretty eyes of his were nearly black with lust as he looked down at you, biting his lip while your tongue swirled over the head of his cock. Licking up his precum, you smirked before fully wrapping your lips around him.

Theo tugged at your hair and bucked against your mouth as you sucked, licked, and pumped every inch of his thick, hard cock. You knew you were good, but the desperation in Theo’s voice all but confirmed it.

“Dio mio, right there. Fuck, you’re perfect. Your throat was made to be fucked. You can take it, bella. Choke on my cock, just like that.”

You gagged as he hit the back of your throat. Sucking dick had never been your favorite, but sucking Theo’s dick was something else. He looked so pretty with his waves plastered to his forehead, rosy cheeks flushed as he fucked your face with a dominance that had you growing wetter by the second. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you choked on his cock, but it was worth every second to hear Theo moan your name.

“Fuck, Y/N,” hissed Theo after a particularly rough thrust. You could tell he was close by the way his body seized underneath you, but you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted more and so did he. “So fucking close, but I don’t want to come yet. I need…Fuck, I need more.”

You released him with a pop, but kept stroking him with your right hand. “Use your words, pretty boy.”

“I want to feel you,” Theo whined. “I need to feel your pussy clenching around my cock, principessa. I need you so fucking bad. I’d get on my knees to be inside of you. Please.”

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” you said as you kissed his temple. “Who am I to refuse?”

Theo watched as you shuffled above him, barely breathing as you slipped out of your clothes. When you threw your shirt off, Theo cursed to find you completely bare before him. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples before wrapping his lips around them. You could tell he was eager to please and that alone was a huge fucking turn on. It was rare to find a man who cared about pleasure beyond his own, which is why you usually preferred women. Theodore Nott seemed to be the exception.

With rapt attention, Theo helped you lower down onto his length. He kept his eyes on you as you adjusted, gasping when your walls stretched to accommodate his size.

“You know, I thought the rumors about you were exaggerated,” you groaned as you sank lower. “But I’ve never been so glad to be wrong.”

Theo smirked as he nibbled at your earlobe. “What kind of rumors, dolcezza?”

“That you had a huge dick,” you responded, sounding slightly winded once Theo was finally fully sheathed inside of you. “And that you fuck like a—“ You moaned when Theo shifted his hips to rut into you. He was so big that the minuscule movement felt like you were being split apart.

“That I fuck like what, bella?”

Never one to be outdone, you tugged at his hair and grinded against him. “That you fuck like an absolute demon.”

“Yeah?” He drawled, sliding in and out of you with a cocky smirk. “Well, you’re no angel either, Y/N.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Theo.”

The sight of you bouncing on his cock and riding the fuck out of him was almost too much. Theo was mesmerized as you used him to get off, head thrown back as you placed your hands on either side of his legs before bending in an angle that he wasn’t even sure was possible for a human to contort to.

Damn, he should’ve fucked a cheerleader sooner. He should’ve fucked you sooner.

“I guess you’re not the only one who listened to the rumors. They said you were flexible, but goddamn, this is something else. You’re something else, Y/N.”

“Oh fuck, Theo,” you keened as you gripped the sheets. “You’re so big. It feels so fucking good, baby.”

“I like the way you moan my name,” he said. “Gods, I could’ve had this all along. Why was I even wasting my time with Hannah? Sei una fottuta dea.”

“I have no idea what you just said,'' you panted, picking up the pace. Your legs ached from the effort, but it felt too good to stop. “But I’m soaked now.”

“I said,” Theo grunted as he fucked up into you and tugged your hair back. “You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N.”

When he rubbed circles on your clit, you absolutely lost it. The room spiraled around you as you came hard, creaming Theo from tip to base. He pulled out suddenly, making you whine at the loss of contact until he replaced his cock with his mouth. Theo flattened his tongue, licking up along your soaked folds. His nose brushed against your already sensitive clit and you cried out as he lapped you up like a man starved.

“Can’t take anymore,” you whined, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you pushed against Theo’s broad shoulders. “It’s too much. I’m so sensitive.”

Theo gripped your ankles and spread your legs wider. “Where’s that Gryffindor bravery, bella?” He chuckled, tracing circles on the inside of your thighs. His mouth glistened with your cum and rose petals stuck to his skin as he looked up at you. “Surely you can take more. We barely just started. I want you drenched in tears. Shaking, crying, and moaning my name. Right now, you’re not even close.”

He sucked on your clit and you swore to Godric your eyes rolled back so hard that you saw heaven. Theo was determined to drive you to the brink of insanity. “I know you want it, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

“Oh gods,” you cried out as he filled you with two fingers. It wasn’t as much of a stretch as his cock, but the way he curled them inside of you, touching that sensitive spongy spot within your walls made you whimper all the same. “Fuck, yes, gods. I want it. I want you, Theo.”

A satisfied smile graced his handsome face before Theo flipped you over, pressing you headfirst into the pillows as he feasted on your pussy from behind. There wasn’t a single thought in your head as he unraveled you with his tongue and fingers. It was a deadly combination that had you on the edge quicker than you thought possible.

“Turn around, principessa,” Theo cooed. “Come ride my face.”

For Godric’s fucking sake. The man was absolutely insatiable. You liked to think that you had excellent stamina. Most of the time your partners struggled to keep up with your pace, but Theo was seriously challenging that. You didn’t know if you could come three times in a row without passing out, but tonight was as good as any to find out.

Theo rewarded you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss before positioning your thighs on either side of his head. You held onto the headboard above him. Part of it was for balance, but mostly to keep yourself from collapsing all together. You felt so overstimulated that the line between pleasure and pain was blurring by the minute, but still, neither one of you had any plans of stopping.

At this point, you actually couldn’t give less of a fuck about revenge. Hannah had long become a thing of the past. It seemed ironic that you and your ex-girlfriend were in this exact position mere hours ago yet you couldn’t even recall anything past the Slytherin fucking you with his tongue.

“Theo, oh my fucking gods,” you cried out as you grinded against his mouth. “Right there. Yes, that’s it. So good.” Theo squeezed your thighs in response, which elicited a hoarse laugh out of you. “You like when I praise you, pretty boy?”

Theo hummed against your clit and squeezed your ass in confirmation. “You’re so pretty when you’re eating my pussy,” you cooed, brushing his wavy locks back. “But you’re even prettier when you’re fucking me.”

That seemed to be all the encouragement Theo needed. Before you knew it, your back was against the mattress as he hiked your legs over your shoulder. Theo slipped in easily, thanks to the juices coating both his tongue and cock now that he was filling you up again.

“How’s the view now, principessa?” Theo asked with a cocky smirk.

You bit your lip as he pounded into you, holding your gaze with every sharp thrust. His tanned skin glistened with sweat and his muscles flexed while he buried himself inside of you again and again, watching you take all of him with rapt attention. His balls slapped against your ass every time his hips snapped to yours, drilling so deep that you struggled for words.

“The best in the castle,” you quipped back, putting on a serene smile as Theo grunted and fucked any and every coherent thought right out of you.

Neither one of you noticed the door opening nor the sound of the broom hitting the floor. You were too busy staring into Theo’s pretty eyes to care.

He turned your head towards the door, but didn’t stop fucking you as Hannah watched with her mouth hung wide open. Theo made sure that your ex-girlfriend had a clear view of the money shot as he claimed you with his mouth, moaning your name against your lips as he came with a loud cry. He filled you to the brim and you could feel him leaking out of you and onto the sheets as your eyes rolled back.

Theo collapsed on top of you, sweaty and sinful. As you lay boneless and blissed out of your mind, you couldn’t quite believe that you’d just fucked your ex-girlfriend’s ex boyfriend. In her own bed, nonetheless. If that wasn’t poetic justice, you didn’t know what was. Merlin, you hadn’t gotten shagged like that in—well, ever. The Slytherin really knew how to slither in. You lifted your head to find Theo already looking at you. When you made eye contact, the two of you burst into laughter.

Your ex-girlfriend, on the other hand, was not as amused. “What the fuck!” Hannah screamed.

Her shrill voice brought you out of the post haze aftermath of your earth shattering orgasm. Completely unbothered, you stretched lazily and waved your fingers at Hannah. Theo smirked as he tugged his sweatpants back on, but opted to remain shirtless as he pulled his oversized shirt over your head like a proper gentleman. You were grateful, since you had absolutely no desire to walk around in your ex-girlfriend’s clothes. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Theo looked absolutely delicious from the afterglow.

You bit your lip, already thinking of all the ways you’d like to have him. Again and again. As often as possible.

With a little smile, you met Theo’s gaze. It was clear that neither of you had any intention of calling it an early night. You had a feeling that you had a lot of sleepless nights ahead of you. Theo looked like he wanted to tear you apart and you were more than willing to let him. “My dorm?”

“Whatever you say, dolcezza,” Theo said as he slipped his fingers through yours. “You could lead me off the astronomy tower and I’d follow.”

Theo didn’t bother looking at Hannah as the two of you passed her. You, on the other hand, couldn’t pass up the chance to get the last word in.

“By the way, we’re breaking up with you. Have fun cleaning up the mess.”

Theo chuckled darkly as he tugged you out into the hallway, smacking your arse as the two of you raced back to your dorm. Behind you, your long forgotten ex-girlfriend gaped as she watched her ex-girlfriend and ex-boyfriend walk away hand in hand.

#yes i know this is unhinged but i dreamt it so now you all have to deal #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 months

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We Need A New Lock / Sanji Imagine

Request: could you write a sanji x reader fic of them alone in reader's room? they always end up getting interrupted by someone just as they get close to kissing, and its torture for sanji because they just cant find a moment alone with each other, so he finally finds a way to be with her late one night where he can kiss her senseless uninterrupted. thank you!

First I just wanted to say, thank you so much everyone for your support as I recovered from my operation! I'm so happy to be here and writing again!

Okay but this is both super sweet and hilarious, I hope you don't mind I spread this out over the deck a bit, and changed it around a little bit for more fun ;)

Warning: slightly spicy, so 18+ please!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @islandofohara.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Try One: Nami

At try one, Sanji was four seconds away from ripping his hair out.

Poor, Sanji: the sweet cook had spent all of dinner service with his hands clenched tightly in his fringe, fistfuls of hair nearly tugged out and scattered among the Matcha Tiramisu he had spent a lonely, and tired morning dragging himself away from your warm embrace to make specially for you. Toiling, rolling, dusting cream and cocoa that he had spent the last handful of his berries trading for from the speciality trader in the markets of the Canopi Islands; he had squinted underneath the honey melt of the sun as it fell from its crest over the horizon as he whisked and whizzed and splattered dessert up to his elbows in his desperation to make sure the sweet treat would be ready before Luffy caught the scent of it.

Finding it too tempting not to toy with the cook, you tried to stifle your smirk as you nonchalantly placed a fist under your chin and feigned interest in whatever Nami was animatedly trying to chew over with you. Flitting your irises over until you made direct eye contact, you dragged the flat edge of your tongue up the back of the spoon, making sure to wet the edge of your thumb along the way.

At any other time, Sanji may have been beside himself with embarrassment. It wasn't the first time a member of the crew had teased him... or snarled at him... or chided him for his obvious endearment, but the sound of Nami's voice was drowned out by the pulsing rush of blood that flooded through your boyfriend's ears. His full concentration was centred solely on the way your teeth scraped over your fork: the content hum as you licked over your fingers like a serpent and nearly sent Sanji clambering onto the floor to beg for the ecstasy of your sin.

You had tried not to chortle, you really had: hiding your face behind the ledger Nami was leaning over the table to shove into your face, her accusing pointer finger jabbing at a new entry she had triple underlined in her familiarly baleful black strokes. She hadn't even noticed that Sanji was nearly crumpled on the floor, bowl lying abandoned by the sink as his love-struck eyes struggled to stay within his skull.

'3000 berries?! Seriously?', she shot a growingly outraged frown in your direction, clattering her fork onto the table so she could use her free hand to point accusingly towards a recovering Sanji, whose fingernails were almost shedding wood shards off the cabinet drawer as he tried to pull himself back up to a presentable looking stand. 'You let curly brows over there spend three thousand of our berries on a pair of new pyjamas for you?'

You shrugged hesitantly, crossing your legs under the table. Your skirt began to rise up, bunching towards your hip as you crossed your ankles. You shot a lingering glance out of the corner of your eye towards Sanji, hoping with all your might that he'd be too bashful to meet your eye. Instead, as Nami cried out in outrage, Sanji's gleeful eyes locked onto yours, and the poor man was forced to grab the wooden edge of his spoon out of the sink and bite into it with his teeth to stop himself from squealing right there and then in the kitchen.

Nami incredulously trailed her eyes between the two of you, a long-simmering jaded scowl tempering over her face. Finally noticing how Sanji was loosening his shirt collar and using a freshly washed baking tray to fan the heat rolling in volcanic waves off his body.

The cat burglar pushed her tongue against her cheek and inhaled sharply as she turned her attention back to you. 'How is that even possible?! Luffy's meat budget for the month costs less than that!'

'They're special, my dear Nami!', Sanji finally managed to pipe in, his voice sounding strangled as he plopped the tray back down next to his damp tea towel. He turned towards the two of you with a pained smile plastered on his sickly looking face.

'They're made of Agar-Agar flakes, and of course, only the finest dehydrated avocados in all of the East Blue for the finest gem in all of the seas.' Sanji cocked his head and winked at you mischievously. 'It was worth every berry for my delectable little sweet pea.'

Nami made a gagging noise into her orange juice, but Sanji just bit his bottom lip and came sauntering over to stand by your side.

Sanji's breath drew in sharply as you absentmindedly began to brush your pointer finger up and up: first tickling over the arm that came winding around your shoulder, before leaning back to trace the edge of his jaw line, your eyes drawn away from Nami's waving hands to gawk up at the unbuttoned gap between his shirt where his Adam's apple lay tautly.

Nami was about to throw her muffin at your head when she suddenly started, bolting straight upright. Leaning forward on her elbows, she squinted her eyes suspiciously at the way you were nearly falling off the dining table's bench to lean back and caress your boyfriend's face.

'Hold on... what do you mean Agar Agar? How can they be made of food...'

'Well', you snorted, trying to hide your face by pulling one of Sanji's heavy arms up and draping his heavy bicep in front of your crinkling eyes. 'They are edible-'.

'Melt in the mouth, in fact', Sanji chimed in audaciously, bending his spine over so he could press a few butterfly kisses over the top of your scalp.

Nami nearly shoved the table straight into your stomach in her desperation to clamber up and escape the two of you. 'Nope. Nope! Absolutely not. The two of you get out of here now, before I start pitching water over your heads.'

Try Two: Usopp

At try two, Sanji was three seconds away from kicking the door of its hinges in annoyance.

It had taken nearly all night for the two of you to get even these few seconds of isolation together, and yet Sanji still felt so woefully unprepared. His fingers stumbled as he clumsily tried his best to ignore how his pounding heart was almost playing leap-frog with his ribs; the tautening of his abdomen as he tried to pull his under-shirt over his head left exultant lacerations against his muscles. He had to work up the courage to turn and kiss you now, or he was going to keel over and pass out on the floor from his heart's anguish: brought to his knees by the one thing he could never escape: his soul’s serendipity.

Thankfully, you did the hard part for him.

He flushed at the sound of your feet pattering off your bed to echo through the shimmering walls towards him; he throat bobbed at the feel of your hand delicately winding round to finger at the Windsor knot choking his neck. He nearly cried out when you pressed your body flush against his back.

'My buttercup, if you keep pulling at that tie like that you'll have conked out before I've even got you to the bed.'

You could feel the desperation radiate off Sanji as he tilted his head back to try and watch you. Despite how tired he seemed, his dipping eyelashes roved almost hungrily over every aspect of you he could see, his hand coming up to slide over yours until you were bowered and anchored together in the storm.

'Well my honeyed heart', he almost made your breath hitch as he walked the two of you backwards, stopping only once the heavy weight of your bed swung against your knee pit. 'I suppose I'll just have to bring the bed to us.'

With a grunt that sounded suspiciously close to a puppy's whine, Sanji snapped you up within his arms and lifts you up to sit on the chained platform. Once you had regained your balance, you beckoned your pointer finger towards Sanji, and he nearly tripped over his own feet as he came stumbling towards you, dragged forwards as if yanked by an invisible leash tied around his ankles.

'God, I missed you today', your boyfriend muttered, grabbing onto your shirt and nearly crawling into your skin like a man possessed. As your head hit the linen lining of the swing, the man did his best not to collapse his full weight onto you when he came crushing down on top of your abdomen: the only thing holding him up being the point of his elbows that pin your arms in place, and the jut of his knees as they 'accidentally' fall between yours and slide them further... and further open. 'If Luffy has me make cook up one more medium-rare steak for him I'm going to throw myself headfirst into the ocean.'

You snorted, burrowing your nose into the soft mound of flesh underneath his earlobe. He shivered when you teasingly pursed your lips and blew against the shell, before latching on with your teeth and nipping at the squishy skin. 'If you do, don't worry. I'll make sure to fish you out with a frog net.'

'Frog net? Frog net!' Sanji slowly lowered his body to rest his forehead against the curve of skin just above your breasts, trying to stifle his smile. 'Oh, my wounded heart! I hope you're only saying that because you're going to give me a kiss.'

'Actually, it's because you're so slimy', you teased, poking your finger into his hip. His groan echoed into your bone as he pulled your waist tighter against him.

The starved man exhaled, his arms tightening around your waist; he was hiding himself away in your safety, trying to burrow himself underneath your skin like an ensnared goldcrest flying fruitlessly, dangerously, with harrowing hope for the propitious freedom wrought only by the sun.

Sanji made an incomprehensible gargle that sounded something vaguely along the lines of: 'Eye wansh kisch ewe so mphly.'

'What was that, buttercup?'

'I want to kiss you so badly', Sanji whimpered, his warm tears soaking through to your shoulders.

He was so soft. God always so soft, and as he lay before you now, you could almost imagine how sweet he must have been before his father cruelly tried to stifle it with cruel mockery and torturous punishments. So soft, so calm, so comforting, as he peered up at you with those wonderous eyes; his attention was always drawn back to you: so trusting, no matter what you said or did. Always. Just looking at you with this almost timeless intensity. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, to want to spend his whole life caught in the light of the most translunary being he’s ever met.

You stroked your palm through the tangling strands of hair by the nape of his neck, letting your voice fall to a whisper in order not to startle Sanji any further. 'Well, you are my sweet prince after all. You can kiss me whenever you want.'

The cook's reply was muffled by a swift knock against the doorframe.

'Hey, is everything okay? I'm hearing some weird noises coming from in here... are you guys in trouble? I know those Marines on Karushi Island were pretty annoyed when Y/n tossed them backwards over their butts-'

His perturbed question was met only by a deafening groan, followed by the pillow Sanji picked up and flung hitting the porthole window with a crashing PLASH.

Usopp flinched back, instinctively reaching towards his belt to run his fingers over the solid oak of his slingshot. 'Okay, be brave. Be brave, Captain Usopp. Your friends may be in danger! They may-'. Usopp's words quickly died on his tongue when he cautiously tip-toed open the door to the boy's quarters. In fact, his tongue nearly rolled out of his jaw as his lips slackened, blubbering like a pufferfish at the sight of Sanji almost draped across you. A half-naked Sanji.

He clapped his hands over his eyes, and nearly tossed himself over the edge of the ship with how rapidly his legs were wheeling themselves backwards. 'I'm so sorry you guys! I didn't know you were- well you were, you know- boinking in ther-.'

SLAM.

The swift silence that settled over the room should have been reassuring. Should have been. If only it hadn't been followed by the confused wails from the sharpshooter as he lolled out flat against the floor: the tip of his bandana scraping underneath the toe of Sanji's shoe where it was splayed out over the edge of the bed.

Sanji just sighed like a weary father, taking one hand off your cheek to slap it over his eyes with a curt shake.

'You snuggle up here and stay warm, sweetheart. I'll go get Chopper.'

Try Three: Luffy

At try three, Sanji was busy spending his spare two seconds trying to work up the nerve to just... leap across the room to where you were standing and kiss you silly.

'Okay', Sanji folded himself against the door and started counting distractedly on his fingers. 'I've given the Captain three plates of meat, so that should distract him for a little while: I've also hidden cookies along the deck, and stuffed a few mint infused lamb shanks in the Crow's Nest. Hopefully he'll go and bother moss head for a bit instead of annoying-'

A ringing crash made the two of you wince as your poor bedroom door got another battering; this time, the handle nearly cleft a hole clean in the wall as Luffy's leg came barging sandal first into the room.

He couldn't sleep... so your Captain had the fortuitous idea of seeking out the next best thing: hugs from you.

'Y/n, there you are! I ran out of meat, I need you to rub my tummy so I can nap! I tried asking Zoro, but he kicked me off the Crow's Nest!'

Before you could even open your mouth to protest, Luffy's stretchy arms have latched onto the edges of the door and he's flung himself into the room like a Hawaiian clad cannonball. Sadly, one that had been directly configured to launch into you: headfirst, nonetheless.

'Damn it Luffy - nO!'

A look of pure terror widened your eyes as you were skidded butt-first across the floor by a mop of curly black hair and a Cheshire grinning face. A crushing weight piled onto the side of your face, and despite how much Sanji curses and tries to detach Luffy's arm from your waist, your Captain's smushed face doesn't even lift an inch off your cheek.

'Oh, Sanji! You're here too! Even better!'

Then koala mode is activated, and Luffy's legs and arms come wrapping around you... and poor Sanji's like a cocoon. The helpless cook goes flying through the air like a contorted puppet blasted out of a wonky cannon.

Oblivious as always, your Captain settled down between the two of you for his pre-sleep nap, effectively trapping pining you and a love-struck Sanji a foot away from each other. Within a blink of an eye Luffy's head lolled onto your shoulder, and you frowned as you tried to shuffle away from the thin lines of drool that dripped out of his snoring mouth. As if he could sense you moving, Luffy's arms tightened like a vice around your waist, winding another few extra times around for good measure.

After a few minutes of wriggling, some muted swearing, and a lot of shoving the toe of his boot into the side of an unaware Luffy's shin, Sanji finally managed to wrangle his hand to snake around the rubber man's bellybutton so he could link his pinkie finger with yours.

Trying your best not to to block your nostril, you shuffled your cheek to the side until you could meet your boyfriend's sorrowful eye.

Despite your circumstance, all you did was smile.

God- that smile: bright enough to alight the dusk. As piercing and ruinous as pure golden sunlight. As devastating as the fresh warmth of a salt wind borne onto the stifling heat of a forgotten crag. And it makes everything in his life up to this moment worth something. Worth it all.

All the tortures in the world would be worth it to just link pinkies with you.

Try Four: Zoro

At try four, Sanji was one second away from hoisting his crewmates over his shoulder and flinging them overboard one by one.

There was something incredibly unsexy about banging your head against a pair of Zoro's sweaty hand weights, but as Sanji pounded you to the ground, neither of you seemed to be able to muster the nerve to care.

'Sanji', you moaned almost lewdly, tugging his back and silently willing him down to cage your body against the coarse, sweaty mat. 'More. Please. More.'

His cheeks burned an almost violent carmine, but he refused to break contact; only for one sole second did his skin leave yours, when he couldn't contain the gut-wrenching want within himself anymore and dared to brush the plush top of his lip against the side of your nose.

'I- I want-'

You pressed your cheeks firmly against his, willing Sanji to believe every sweet word that you couldn't stop from gushing out of your mouth.

You stopped, panting for breath. 'Tell me sweetie - tell me what you want. Let me hear you say it.'

His body squeezed around yours, the so usually syrupy sweet cook clenching his fingers into the meat of your spine like a savage animal shaken loose from its wrought iron chains: like an unbottled tempest with nowhere left to rage except over the bearing flames.

'Please! Please - hngg, I can't, I can't. I need you. I can't hold myself back any longer.' His words sounded so painful it sent a jolt of worry through your heart.

And yet when he pressed his nose flatly against your own, so forcefully crushing his own skin against your own it nearly left you gasping for breath, there was still such a sweetness in it. Despite it all, despite how strenuously Sanji was trying to hold back that final band of constraint from snapping, his first and foremost priority would always be your wellbeing.

'I'm sorry- I'm sorry my chérie, but I need to feel you more than I need air.'

The gasping, open mouth kiss he gave you was only repeated: crashing down again and again against your own, tongue slashing with ravenous hunger over your bottom lip and clumsily leaving wet stripes of warm saliva against your cheek as Sanji devoured you. The meek, almost pitiful whimpers as he ducked his head into the curve of your shoulder blade as he grinded himself against you, effectively trapping you between the ground and the clench of his quivering thighs marked the interludes of his feast. His lips trembled as he sighed blissfully, holding the tide back as his free hand sweetly ran its knuckles up the side of your leg, stopping only when his thumb was pressed closely enough to your inseam that he could run miniature circles underneath the growing wetness of your pants.

At the sound of your shaking moan, his front teeth dug in so tightly to his bottom lip that he drew blood.

It scared you. You wanted him to do it again.

'Sanji, I said more.'

The claw of his hand as he swiped at your shirt, not caring that he almost sent a tower of Zoro's sweaty old shirts flying in his own desperation to tug yours off was his only reply. The almost achingly gentle restrain as he placed his right hand against your hip and tried to hold you in place: tried to warn you that if he started, he wasn't sure if all his pent-up yearning would allow him to stop. The sweat nearly dripped across his furrowed eyes, caking the wispy strands of his fringe against his bucking forehead as he willed himself to calm down. His eyes stung, but despite your desperate clawing up towards his shoulders, he forced his breathing to settle.

But by all the seas... as he peeked one eyelid open and saw the line of tantalising skin grow wider down your rising breast, all semblance of self-restraint fled from the near drooling cook's brain.

The feel of Sanji's lips dragging down your neck to nip at your pulse point was interrupted by the sound of a quiet c-r-a-c-k.

You peeked your head, too far gone to swim fully out of your daze. With your arms still wrapped firmly around the wide expanse of Sanji's contracting back, you jutted your chin into the constellation line of freckles by his left shoulder blade. 'Did you hear something?'

'Just the sound of this', he smiled, smoothing his hand off your hip and sliding it underneath your buttocks. He gave you a firm squeeze that left your mouth dropping open in a shocked pant as he lifted you further up against his abdomen and pressed your breasts firmly against his pecs: he was effectively cupping you up against him like a clingy, very drenched, koala bear.

This time though, the sound of something splintering was far too egregious to ignore.

The force of the door handle slamming into the wall of the Crow's Nest nearly made the whole ship shake in revulsion; the cool air against your skin was nearly too much to bear, but the raging heat that sparked out from the looming shadow enveloping the door was enough to make your whole body break out in goose bumps.

'Can you two stop making out around the ship for two seconds.'

Sanji growled, whipping his head round to sulk at the ship's swordsman.

'Can you mind your own business for even one, Marimo?'

The former bounty hunter ostentatiously held a finger up by slowly raising it into air, and it took you a second to realise he’s pointedly showing Sanji his middle finger.

'Zoro, did you- did you just break the lock?'

'What's your problem? I left my gym towel in here.'

#one piece #one piece imagine #sanji #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla #opla imagine #zoro #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #luffy #nami #usopp

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ineffable-suffering · 6 months

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The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie

Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley

Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.

So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:

(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)

As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.

When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.

Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.

Ergo:

✨This✨

Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!

Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.

Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.

Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.

Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...

... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:

Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."

At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)

Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!

And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).

But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.

Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)

This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.

So, riddle me this:

Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?

To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–

No.

He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.

During one car ride.

Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!

Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.

Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?

Talk about over the top ...

Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?

These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.

Oh, right, speaking of books:

Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:

Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...

... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?

That's right: Giving away his books.

I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.

Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?

Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.

And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.

Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):

Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."

Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!

And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.

You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?

Mhm, that's right.

This pretty old serpent.

I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:

You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.

And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.

I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.

As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.

... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?

"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.

Marvellous!

You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and

However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:

"Have you thought of just talking to him?"

Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?

'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?

Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!

Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)

On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.

Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?

Well. Well.

The answer's in the title, babes.

Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!

Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.

And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?

Oh, bless it, angel.

He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"

Ah yes, there he is.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.

Oh, yes, right. The dancing.

Parallel much?

But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).

And once again, fhwack:

... the rosy bubble bursts.

Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:

In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.

During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:

doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed

remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley

and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)

So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”

The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.

And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.

*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.

***

Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!

Au revoir! 💗

#good omens season 2 #good omens #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens s2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #my own meta #the bloody vol-au-vents made me do it #aziraphale has balls #truly #jaune austen ball #it is a truth universally acknowledged that this show is going to drive me out of my mind #azi just wanted his silly little love confession #but then he had to surrender the angle #bummer

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czortofbaldmountain · 3 months

Text

The Name of Lucifer

Always Rising

The passage in Isaiah that became associated with the fallen angel speaks of the bright Morningstar explicitly as a Fallen Star as well, fallen due to his pride that led him to rise against God himself. The fragment is explicitly not about our Lucifer - but this is essentially how he's seen in Christianity (and where the Isaiah association generally ends).

Challenging God is something that certainly demands extraordinary courage. The consequences Lucifer suffered were painful. And yet, the dawn always rises again, and so does the Morningstar, persistent and unbroken. Thus, Lucifer's name can be linked to those qualities, as well as to hope, rebirth and new beginnings.

The Star of Venus

As the church considered it sinful, sex became naturally associated with Lucifer. Later, when the Romantic Satanists began to reclaim his and Satan's symbolism - whether treating them separately or as one entity - they reevaluated this association more positively.

The reason why I'm talking about it here is that it coincides perfectly with the Morningstar being the planet Venus in both astrology and various religions connected with love and eroticism.

In my experience, the planet's association with various kinds of love, not just romantic and sexual, mirrors Lucifer's nature as well.

Light of Intellect

Lucifer is, of course, also a spirit of intellect whose light can be understood in connection to that as well. As the Serpent and ever further, they are encouraging us to question, to practice critical thinking, to learn and reflect.

Light of Gnosis

Not necessarily about Gnosticism, gnosis is spiritual knowledge acquired in personal experience. It is subjective, of course, but beautiful. In a more spiritual interpretation of the Eden myth, the knowledge Lucifer the Serpent opens the way to is gnosis.

Note - you might have heard the term UPG. In the spiritual context, it stands for unverified personal gnosis. While, in my opinion, personal gnosis would be enough - it's always unverified, in the end - the term helps us coexist while understanding things in our own ways.

The Warmth

There's another, deeply personal way I've experienced the light Lucifer brings - the light of comfort that shines in the dark, the sweet flame warming me when I need support.

There are certainly more ways you can interpret Lucifer's name! Do you have your own?

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

#czortposting #luciferian #luciferianism #lucifer deity #lucifer devotee #demonolatry #satanism #satanist #theistic satanism #theistic satanist #witchcraft #witchblr #left hand path #occult

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pinkrecs · 2 years

Text

pinkrecs’s bts yandere fic recs

[POSTED ON JULY 12th 2022]

note: this is most (honestly just checkout all of these authors’ masterlists--there’s more great gems) of my favorite yandere bts recs! please show much love to our wonderful authors. the yandere genre does contain triggering themes (ex: representation of toxic relationships, possessive/obsessive behavior, non-con/dub-con, violent behavior, etc). read at your own risk + check out the author’s notes. ENJOYYY ^^

i would love to give each fic a detailed comment on how i love it but i lack the words and writing capabilities to do that. so hope a short spoiler-free comment will do (sorry). GO GIVE THESE FICS A LIKE, REBLOG, OR COMMENT!!!!

POLY/MULTI:

- death valley by @bangtangalicious

↳ gang + rocker + fightclub au + ot7 x reader. my brain is dizzy & fucked (in a good way) after reading this. each member gets their own time to shine and the characterizations of each member are crazy. this fic is a messy ass rollercoaster and the smut is scrumptious too!!

- gumiho cisswap bangtan x reader by @bloodsweattearscatharsis

↳ gumiho + cisswap au + poly ot7 x reader. its obvious from the title since the author mentioned that they haven’t made a title for the fic lol. honestly, go give this a read because the dynamic of ot7 is quite fun and i LOOVEE the suspense that from each chapter. all of them could run me over anytime and also HOT WOMEENNNNN ayyyyyyyyy go read bc it needs more luv

- house of serpents by @smasmashie

↳ mafia au + ot7 x reader. every character in here needs to go therapy but also not because i need to see more drama unfold. ot7 seems to care for the mc but their actions shown are... uhmm... questionable. but that makes this fic good though! reading each chapter like it’s the morning newspaper

- in your dreams by @voidswan

↳ idolverse au + vmin x reader. GOD THIS WAS INTENSE, i was shaking, gasping, and throwing uppp!! vmins are menaces in this one but god you can’t help but want more D: i’m like the mc--who’s a moth attracted to the flame.

- lilies of the valley by @girlmeetsliv3

↳ a/b/o au + poly ot7 x reader. each relationships between the members and towards reader is mysterious and there was underlying tension of meeting the pack’s expectation. in some way, it gets uncomfy at some parts yet that is what keeps each chapter an enjoyable read.

- lovesick by @angelicyoongie

↳ soulmate au + ot7 x reader. mc is very unlucky gal... not only having one BUT SEVEN yandere as soulmates lmaoo.. and the soulmark inflicts on both people if one of them gets hurt. that’s rough damn! i’m still unsure if all of them know that all of them are sending her letters. keep notifications ON for this fic

- nephilim by @royallyjoon

↳ cult + supernatural au + poly ot7 x reader. it was defintlely chilling while i read this. while there’s some sense of normalcy, the larger control of the cult makes keeps us feeling uneasy.

- on the first day of christmas, my true love gave to me by @forever-once-gone

↳ ceo + christmas au + poly namkook x reader. namkook is crazy and unhinged when they show their true colors. jungkook is very VERY sweet tho i cant hate him rip

- strangers by @bestaez

↳ strangers from hell au + ot7 x reader. i haven’t read watched the kdrama so i can’t compare between the two. this is definitely interesting as we can see SOME insight to how ot7 plans it and covers up their tracks to avoid getting caught. i hope the mc can get the tf out that apartment and we can see the reasoning for these actions of ot7 in future chapters

- school f*cking sucks! series by @sluttyandere

↳ high school au + maknae line x reader. all characters are of legal age btw! sucks to be mc because she just getting snatched from each guy like that. and she’s the class president but kinda powerless since two of them control her status at the school. all three of them are massively wicked and im kinda digging it LMAO

- thou shall not steal by @xherxx

↳ mafia + spy + enemies to lovers au + poly ot7 x reader. as the author mentioned, this fic is on the lighter side of the yandere spectrum. i love the mc in this fic. a girlboss icon actually. adored every interactions between the mc and each member. it’s a VERY pleasant read lol

- where three stars meet by @girlmeetsliv3

↳ poly sope x reader. this felt like a movie to this. i could picture everything in my head and sope was quite mysterious in this. and the little details placed throughout the story makes it enticing to continue reading.

- “why you look so pretty when you cry?” by @minniepetals

↳ mafia au + poly ot7 x reader. the way ot7 brings hopes up for the mc before crushing them down so she breaks and realizes that her only option is them is tragic for the mc... yet it’s a whole serve!

MISC (aka idk where to categorize these lol):

- never ever after by killingpeach (AO3)

↳ fairy tale au + ot7 x oc. each member is based on a character of well known fairy tales. for the mc to leave the story, she must make the member of that fairy to fall in love with her for “the end” to happen. i love the author’s versions of these fairy tales. each time the fairy tale ends, ik the oc is like: “i won... but at what cost??”

- seven princes of campus series by @bibbykins

↳ college au + ot7 x reader. this series includes various fics with each member and their s/o and is more on the softer side of yandere! each couple is cute and the build up of how each became to be to great!

- tatemae; 建前 series by @99liners

↳ trophy wife au + ot7 x reader. this series includes various fics with each member and their s/o. the gaslighting and manipulation is wild in these fics y’all. and each time, the ending of the fic makes think like: damn... these men not seeing the pearly white gates of heaven

- the tarot series by @flowesona

↳ ot7 x reader. this series includes various fics with each member and their s/o and “each inspired by one of the major arcana tarot cards.” i love this concept and each plot is easily able to get into.

MEMBER X MEMBER:

- desire by kyoigi (AO3)

↳ demon au + jikook. demon jimin is hot yet creepy at the same time. and the way jimin goes through his inner turmoil before realizing his feelings for jk + jk starting to piece everything together?! just scrumptious

- mused obsession series by @sombreboy + @chimoona

↳ photography + model au + jikook. the way jimin falls into jk manipulative and obsessive nature is crazy yall... and how they show their devotion towards each other? fucked up yet i can’t keep my eyes away from it!

- photos of you (and where I should be) by korknight (AO3)

↳ photography + rapper au + yoonkook. jungkook is risking it ALL for yoongi! down MASSIVELY bad yet jk gaslights himself into his actions are good for yoongi.

- watching you, watching me by mellifluous_kim (AO3)

↳ idolverse au + yoonkook. THE TWIST? you knew my jaw FELL to the FLOOR?!? it’s a must-read because everything is not what it seems D:

KIM SEOKJIN:

- carnal by @kosmosguk

↳ vampire au. mc folded that quick... honestly same here too! just immaculate *chefs kiss*

- contact by @gorehsk

↳ alien au. pure filth and i love it.

- rose gold by @sweetwolfcupcake

↳ idolverse au. jin is quite eerie in this fic. he’s subtle with his yandereness and calculated with his actions.

- the baron by @therealmintedmango (AO3)

↳ historical au. jin is charming and no one can suspect a damn thing. a fun read!!

- the lost, the found, and the treasured by @forever-once-gone

↳ reincarnation + royalty au. so well-written!! there’s small details in the story and by the end... you see piece together. seokjin waited for a long time and i could see why (even though it’s quite haunting).

MIN YOONGI:

- ash and cinder by @chimchimsauce

↳ cinderella au. a cinderella retelling with yoongi as our prince. great fic with the yandere twist!

- beloved by @bang-tan-bitches

↳ historical + empire au. this fic was a RIDE. mc is a supportive sister yet she unknowingly attraction of yoongi. his desire is eerie and attractive at the same time.

- beneath the world by @nomnomsik

↳ yoongi is down bad... and his notebook 😭😭

- control by @taeyohonic

↳ idolverse au. damn a twisted universe of bangtan. yoongi’s character is a massive dick in this one

- exitus acta probat by @bang-tan-bitches

↳ mafia au. can he also snatch me away pls too

- lineage by @kosmosguk

↳ royalty au. god the twist? you gotta read this, it’s a masterpiece.

- the man in the moon by @worldwidemochiguy

↳ lowkey reading was comforting in some sort. like i was soft for yoongi’s character by the end :3

- the music of the night by @bestaez

↳ phantom of the opera au. i was smiling near the ending but then that had to happen lol

JUNG HOSEOK:

- angel by @worldwidemochiguy

↳ best friend au. hoseok is affectionate, sweet, and insane in this one.

- forbidden fruit by @deepdarkdelights

↳ organized crime au. mc’s lack of fear has gotten her into some trouble... but it’s jung hoseok--it’s alright!!

- may the odds be ever in your favor by @yandearest

↳ hunger games au. this fic is incompeleted but the author left spoilers for the ending. i highly suggest checking out this fic--it’s very well written!

- orgasms on the verge of a nervous breakdown by @sluttyandere

↳ high school + party au. wow this was quite a lot to handle. pls note there’s non-con. in conclusion: trust nobody

- toska by @chummywchimmy

↳ a/b/o + werewolves au. hoseok is sweet and all but lord that bird gift LMAO.

KIM NAMJOON:

- a dangerous game by @chaoticpuff17

↳ mafia au. joonie does not know how to give up... prayers for the mc

- deviant by @jkeuphoriadreamland + @chimoona

↳ this fic is one of the most memorable fics i read. namjoon is so cunning and cocky piece of shit.

- fôret de cauchemars by @kosmosguk

↳ sleep psychiatrist au. i massively agree that this fic is one hell of a rollercoaster. thrilling and creepy!!

- lady of the night by @deepdarkdelights

↳ victorian + time travel + jack the ripper au. this joon lives in my mind to this day. enjoyed the mc figuring out what the hell is happening while scolding namjoon’s misogynistic ideas.

- let the villain win by @lemonjoonah

↳ author au. let me tell you that joonie’s character will have you memorized and shocked!!

- moonstruck by @lovelyspring7

↳ mafia + florist au. this is fic did what it gotta do... and IT SERVED!!!

- used to disappointment by @girlmeetsliv3

↳ nerd au. gosh i would also feel like a disappointment if i was in school with namjoon. but joonie is caring in this one (?)

PARK JIMIN:

- apothic by @jiminstonic

↳ zombie au. zombie jimin is sweet towards for the mc, but his actions went a lit extreme... ig that’s what he gotta do? slay?

- arte factum by @lolabangtan

↳ artifical intelligence + sci-fi au. fuck me up android jimin!@(31!!!! he’s a little bit eerie but we can OVERLOOK that :D

- charming by @bangtans-apollo

↳ cinderella au. *chefs kiss* prince jimin needs a therapy session because he’s very overbearing and possessive. you never know when he gotta explode!

- curiosity brought it back by catslullaby (AO3)

↳ CURIOSITY DID BRING IT BACK!!!!!! one of my all time favs. the way mc decided to make jimin jealous and she got what she wanted! but she also bargained more than what she can afford lool

- neighbors by @jkeuphoriadreamland

↳ neighbors + stalker au. toxic? yes. hot? yes.

- otherworldly by @sinning-on-a-sunday

↳ coraline au. i am ashamed to say that i’m not mad at the ending. i would bend my knees for other jimin.

- porcelain by @deepdarkdelights

↳ dollmaker au. i’m not just screaming at jimin, i’m also screaming at the grandma.

- spirited away by @out-of-jams

↳ spirited away au. i already watched spirited away and this fic takes it as inspiration to create something different as it own. jimin is supposed to be someone we can rely on... but the writing has good job of conveying the gut feeling of something that isn’t right :D

- the owner by @shumidehiro

↳ ghost au. i like the mc in this! love that she is respectful to the spirits and i can see how ghost jimin holds his resentment from.

- treasure by @sombreboy

↳ faerie dragon hybrid au. that took a dark turn but who can’t resist jimin? lets be REALLL

KIM TAEHYUNG:

- daffodil dreams by @sombreboy

↳ murder suspect + therapist au. the way tae and mc are attracted towards each other is kinda in push and pull in way. and when they give into each other, it feels conflicting since it feels right but wrong for the two to be together. a thrilling read!!

- devotion by @sweetbunnykook

↳ childhood friends au. the yearning?? the tension?? and when it blows up between the two, it’s completely worth it in the end. beautifully written!!

- dura lex, sed lex by @go1denjeon

↳ law au. tae is so mysterious in this fic. you know what you’re for when you read this, you just don’t know when tae decides to reveal his true colors. in hindsight, he acts like ordinary citizen yet ill think we’ll see more of his true colors in later chapters.

- like chalk and cheese by @helenazbmrskai

↳ tae def helped the mc bring out the craziness in her. it’s refreshing read from most yandere fics as we start to see more of the roles reversed.

- poison apple by @jooniyah

↳ moneylender au. this is one of more darker fics. mc doesn’t give up nor so does tae. his character is crazy and im impressed how she keeps her sanity still.

- purple people eater by @therealmintedmango (AO3)

↳ alien au. ik the title of this fic sounds crazy and the fic is. tae is adorable in the fic (besides the shit he pulled in the end).

- the phantom by @darkestcorners

↳ paranormal + parallel universe/time travel au. tae’s character in this is fucking scary actually. i probably been dead by now if i was mc in that situation.

- the treachery and reprisal by @min-hoax

↳ tae got ISSUES. and jimin??? my gasp was so damn loud at the end. that’s it.

- violets: memories [part one] / violets: realities [part two] by @emoboijk

↳ stalker au. tae and mc are unhealthy for each other but they still got feelings for each other... love how mc friends are there to support her :D

JEON JUNGKOOK:

- brother knows best by @cosmostae

↳ stepbrother au. jungkook is so hot and goodass smut. gulity-pleasure fic :D

- cardio by kaiseuphoria (AO3)

↳ personal trainer au. jungkook is so sweet but so insane all at once??&!6? this fic is a perfect mix of sweetness and creepiness.

- cruel intentions by @explicit-tae

↳ mafia au. the first chapter was just recently out and i’m glad the mc got out of the situation. but since it’s the first chapter, i wonder when is jungkook going take her and the baby back? eagerly waiting for the second chapter!

- deception by @kthyg

↳ gang au. this fic is interesting in a way that mc likes jk long before jk likes her. jk gotta manage his anger and sort his shit out first.

- flower petal by @royallyjoon

↳ empire + reincarnation au. this two together is tragic. mc did what she gotta for everyone’s sake and that ended up... not so well many years later...

- forever afterthough by sorvette (AO3)

↳ fantasy + vampire + werewolves au + implied poly ot7 x reader. god this was a RIDE. the progress between the mc and jungkook is sweet and i enjoyed their bond together. writing felt like a kinda like dream because this is so well written!!

- play date trilogy by @worldwidemochiguy

↳ the inner turmoil within the mc between leaving and staying lets me know that jk got her bad... honestly same tho

- polarity by @darkestcorners

↳ best friend’s boyfriend + college au. YOU GUYS WILL NOT GET IT UNTIL YOU READ THIS FIC. like i would smash my head everytime so i wipe OUT my memories and reread this fic all over again. the plot twists, the mind games, and how realistic this setting is in this fic got me fucked in all sorts of places. without being physical, jk uses all types of tactics to overtake mc’s mind. this is a must read.

- taking over you by @go1denjeon

↳ idolverse au. love the mc’s approach this situation. jk’s character in this fic is actually fucking sick and twisted. at some parts, i just got very uncomfy and got the chills.

- the crimson shell by @angelicyoongie

↳ mermen au. do not think this is your friendly mermaid au. merkoo in this fic his claws, spikey teeth, and clicks his mouth to communicate. poor mc in this, she went through SHIT

- the friendly ghost by @darkestcorners

↳ ghost au. ghostkoo is very sweet. he could never do wrong--until the end RIP :D

- to obtain the flower / primrose [sequel] by @mingshits

↳ empire au. who knew that mc’s actions toward jk during childhood could leave a result like this lol? this fic was a whole serve, def must read. each time mc takes one step, jk is FIVE steps ahead her LMAO

- you by @whoretan

↳ college + stalker au. the first chapter recently released and i’m invested on what’s going to happen to the next chapter. everyone’s motive in this fic is somewhat unclear and the mc here is quite unreliable. can’t wait for shit to happen

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sighed-the-snake · 6 months

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Speculation on Archangel Michael

I think Crowley might have murdered Michael's boyfriend.

The way she rushes off so eagerly to make that phone call in the stairwell.

"It's me," she says with familiarity. Her voice is soft, and sweet, like her smile. "It's our man, Aziraphale. Is there any possibility he's working for you?"

She accepts his denial easily, without question. "No? Well then, you might want to investigate the activities of the demon Crowley. Might be playing his own game, word to the wise."

She's warning him. When he resists, she pushes back, but she is still gentle. "No, I'm - I'm telling you, you can't trust him."

He questions her, and there is a flirtatiousness in her voice. She almost purrs. "Of course you can trust me. I'm an angel."

Who is she talking to?

That's right. This guy. Ligur.

The one Crowley melts with holy water when Ligur comes for him.

Contrast this with the way Michael conducts her phone call to Hell in S2. (For what it's worth, I'm pretty sure she's talking to Dagon.)

"I'm not saying Hell is complicit in this," she says, the facade of angelic grace barely concealing her irritation. She's lounging stiffly in her chair. She doesn't want to be on this call, explaining herself. "I'm not saying anyone is complicit. I'm just saying that if anyone is found helping him, we are prepared to use extreme sanctions."

"Extreme sanctions?" echoes the voice on the line.

"Yes," says Michael, almost rolling her eyes and restraining a sigh. "Book of Life."

"I'm on it," says the voice dutifully.

Michael's reply is almost a sneer. "I appreciate it," she says, and hangs up on the demon by literally blowing them off.

That is a pretty big tonal shift.

The softness she showed Ligur is not her usual way of going about things. She does not get her way by using a light touch. Irritated exasperation is closer to Michael's default.

She's calculating, and canny, and restrained. She sees through Aziraphale's deception in the Job job. She later investigates him by combing through Earth's surveillance when he makes some remarks that don't sit right with her. She cuts people off to talk over them. She's ambitious and covets Gabriel's job.

And yet, she was soft and sweet to Ligur, in a way we never see again.

And when it was time to execute Crowley, who showed up with a pitcher of holy water to destroy him?

That's right. Michael.

Taking this scene at face value, I thought it was because Michael is one of Heaven's heavy-hitters, and she's the one with the backchannel to Hell. She's the one talking to them, so she's the one who goes there with the holy water.

But with S2 in mind, I'm seeing this with different eyes.

I think she requested this job. She knows Ligur was destroyed trying to bring in Crowley, and she has probably guessed where the demon's holy water came from. This execution was personal. She wanted to be the one to supply the water that melted the Serpent of Eden into a dingy pool of filth, just like he did to the demon she cared about. When she walks away with an empty pitcher, she looks satisfied.

That's it, that's the theory. Crowley murdered her boyfriend, Aziraphale supplied the murder weapon, and she probably hates both of them down to her angelic bones.

#good omens #good omens fan theory #good omens headcanons #crowley #aziraphale #archangel michael #good omens ligur #ineffable husbands #good omens fandom #good omens meta #good omens analysis

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sam24 · 4 months

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String Beans and Goldfish

Summary: Defending someone who everyone hates is hard. Especially when you're standing in front of a bunch of gang members and Mr. Serpent Hottie won't stop staring at you.

Pairing: Sweet Pea x fem!reader

*****

As soon as you walked through the door, you felt the piercing gaze of 20 something pairs of eyes on you. There was only one that truly mattered, but you pushed down your weird volatile feelings and cleared your throat, stepping up to Jughead.

“What are you doing here?” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were into gaming.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “Sorry Jughead, I’m not here to join this fun little club you’ve got going on here. I’m here to talk to you guys.”

“See Jughead, she’s probably here to tell us how stupid our club sounds. Literally who’s going to believe this.” Fangs whined.

You avoided looking at Fangs, because you knew exactly who would be standing right next to him.

“Honestly, I don’t give a shit about your club. I just need to talk to you guys about Reggie.”

You heard a collective groan among them at the name of Riverdale High’s star athlete, infamous among the Serpents for being a complete asshole.

“Why? You here to defend that dick? You his girlfriend or something?”

Shit.

You looked to where the voice came from, although you knew exactly who it was. You made eye contact with him, his eyes, cold and proud, staring into you intently, waiting for an answer. There was an emotion rippling through his body that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Anger? Jealousy? Both?

Sweet Pea remembered the first time he saw you- the drag race. You were leaning against the truck Reggie was sitting on, your elbow resting on Kevin’s shoulder, looking annoyed as you squinted in the sun.

You had taken a sip out of Reggie’s red solo cup, making a disgusted scrunched up face before shoving the drink back into his hands.

Sweet Pea almost smirked from his place on his motorcycle next to Toni, but remembered he wouldn’t be caught dead smiling at a Northsider.

He couldn’t help but steal glances at you the whole time, and he for sure as hell could see you looking back at him.

The second time he saw you was on the Serpents’ disastrous first day at Riverdale High.

You were standing off to the side behind Kevin, trying your best not to cringe at Veronica’s enthusiasm and Archie’s uncomfiness. Sweet Pea wasn’t even listening to whatever Veronica was saying, instead eye-flirting with you the whole time.

You didn’t say anything when Cheryl and Reggie made their dramatic entrance down the stairs, apart from an audible groan and an eye roll. But, he did see you pull the sleeve of Reggie’s jacket back when he tried to storm up to Sweet Pea, a glint of warning in your eyes. Reggie immediately backed down, and Sweet Pea scowled at the sight, a string of jealousy pulling in his stomach.

He later learned you were in his World History fifth hour class. You and Cheryl walked in late, accompanied by Principal Weatherbee. Cheryl holding a rag to her bleeding nose, and a bruise forming on your knuckles, and your seat was coincidentally the one right next to the one he sat in.

”Damn you must be one hungry chick.” Sweet Pea watched as you pulled out yet another pack of goldfish.

“Thanks, string bean.” You smiled, trying your best to cover up the rapid beating of your heart. “It’s one of my best qualities.”

He raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “It’s actually Sweet Pea.”

“Well, Sweet Pea, maybe you should take me to Pop’s one time and I can show you much I can eat in one sitting.” You said with a wink, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

And before Sweet Pea could flirt back, Reggie stormed over, narrowing his eyes at Sweet Pea, threat clear in his eyes. Before he could throw out an insult, the teacher interrupted, loudly telling Reggie to sit down.

He grudgingly did, but he spent the rest of class glaring murderously at Sweet Pea. And of course, Sweet Pea flirted with you even more because of that.

And now you were here, at an undercover Serpent meeting trying to defend him.

That filled Sweet Pea with rage.

“Look, string- Sweet Pea. I’m not trying to make up excuses for him. I’m just trying to show you his side.”

“Those sound an awful lot like excuses, sweetheart.” Sweet Pea sneered.

You tried not to choke at the nickname.

“Look, Pea, I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever sexual tension is going on between you two, but how about we hear what she’s gotta say.” Toni tried to reason.

“Thank you.” You sent Toni a warm smile, ignoring the first part of her sentence, before facing the rest of them.

“Okay look. I know, Reggie is an asshole. But deep down . . . he’s actually still kind of an asshole- you know what, I have no clue where I’m going with this, lemme start over.” You said with the wave of your hand. “Reggie’s going through a lot right now. His dad- let’s just say he isn’t the best father.”

You paused, thinking how to phrase your thoughts. “He’s going through a lot of shit at home, and-”

“So? That gives him a right to treat us like shit? Tell Reggie to get over himself. Other kids get abused, doesn’t mean they go around acting like dickbags.” Sweet Pea snarled, venom dripping from his voice.

You narrowed your eyes at him, getting defensive. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying- honestly I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

You looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling stupid. You kicked at the tile, your converse skidding on the floor.

“I’ve known Reggie for a long time, and what I’ve accumulated over all this time is that Reggie is terrible with feelings. When he’s mad, he’s angry. When he’s sad, he’s angry. When he feels like shit, he’s angry. It may not seem like it, but he’s really hurting inside. So he thinks the solution is to take it out on other people. And you guys are the perfect target.” You got quieter, the previous anger in your voice turning into sadness.

Sweet Pea suddenly felt guilty for yelling, which was a feeling he rarely ever felt.

“Look, guys. If you want to beat him up, go for it, he honestly deserves it for being so terrible.” You took in a breath. “But try not to kill him, please. He’s my best friend.” Your voice went down to a whisper at the end.

The kid next to Sweet Pea rolled his eyes. “Please. Save the acting, bitc-”

He was quickly silenced by the thunderous slam of Sweet Pea’s palm onto the desk.

“Nevermind.” His jaw clenched.

Sweet Pea’s eyes stayed on the desk, but he caught the slight smile on your face. He was too proud to tell you that he’ll try to go easy on Reggie, just for you, but you understood.

And that was what made you special.

Before anyone could say anything, Reggie’s voice echoed in the hallway, calling your name.

“You should probably go before your boyfriend gets mad.” Sweet Pea muttered angrily, falling even deeper into the dark pit called jealousy.

You turned to walk out the door, but not before looking Sweet Pea dead in the eye.

”He’s not my boyfriend, string bean.”

#riverdale #sweet pea x reader #jealousy

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syrma-sensei · 1 year

Text

→ Love Underwater.

gif credit.

pairing: namor of talokan x queen!reader.

rating: fluff.

warning: spoilers for black panther: wakanda forever.

The King lets out a light grunt when you slip his large necklace off after you took his cape off of his shoulders, revealing the gills on the two crooks of his neck. He tilts his head, cracking the bones of his neck, and you giggle when his lips graze the knuckles of your fingers. Then, you click each of his arm bracelets open, removing and putting them on the adorned tray for the servants to pick up later when you're done.

You massage the muscles of his arms and shoulders, and he groans approvingly. Hands trailing down to his abdomen, unclasping his large belt from around his refined waist. You never let the servants undress the King when he retires to his chambers; a job you've taken it upon yourself since the day you married the King of Talokan; a sweet and intimate gesture of a wife to her husband. When you're done, Ku'kul'kan whisks you playfully to his lap while he's sitting on the large bed. He kisses your neck fondly, while you kiss the crown of his head, then you rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“Namora came to me today, my love.” You say idly, “Again.”

“Oh,” He raises an eyebrow, “Did she?”

“Yes.” You answer, drawing your head back so you can look at his face, “She's expressed her worry about you, my King.”

The latter regards you with gentle eyes, “And you share the same sentiment as well?”

You cup his cheek, your palm pressing lightly on the three marks left by the three scars.

In the recent weeks, the King has spent most of his time drawing the murals at his memorabilia cave —his sacred shrine as you call it— where you're used to watch him flicking his brush nimbly against the wall, recoding history. The latest of his works is The Battle Between The Serpent God and the Black Panther, the first time your husband lost.

“Our King chose peace over slaughter.” You told Namora, when came to you sulking, in her rough way of speeech, about her king cousin, your husband. The seasoned warrioress still can't digest the defeat of Talokan — of her king... god. In all honesty, neither could you, but as the queen, it's your duty to calm your subjects' qualms down, even if you have some of your own.

You glance down at his wrapped ankle, the slightest frown on your face; you've never seen your husband wounded in such a grotesque way. Despite your displeasure, the King seems to wear it with pride. Your eyes flit back to his face again.

“I did.” You answer frankly, “But not anymore. My trust in your judgement never wavers, my King.”

Ku'kul'kan cradles your cheeks in his warm hands, pressing a smooth kiss on your forehead, “Sometimes, I wish they had a piece of your wisdom, my love.”

You hold his hands, pressing kisses to his palms. “You flatter me, my King.”

“I only speak the truth, my Queen.” He smiles, thumbs gently stroking your cheeks.

Even after hundred years of marriage, you can't prevent the blush from smearing your cheeks red, and your husband laughs, flicking your cheek with his fingers.

“But the Panther Princess ought to be true to her words.” You say stubbornly. “Should she break them, and I'll be the one to bring her head on a spike,”

Ku'kul'kan smiles. “I'm counting on that.”

#namor x you #namor x reader #namor smut #tenoch huerta namor #namor fluff #namor x y/n #namor imagine #namor fic #namor fanfiction #namor of talokan #ku'kul'kan #namor #mcu namor #tenoch huerta #black panther wakanda forever #namor mcu #kukulkan x you #kukulkan x reader #kukulkan

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readychilledwine · 4 months

Text

Pack Mentality

Summary - it's an Autumn Court tradition for males to present their mates with a kit, and Amelia just wants to gift Eris something he struggled to walk away from.

Warnings - none

A/n - Eris and Amelia's journey begins here ❤️

Amelia sighed as she shut the door of the cabin, resting her back against it as she cradled a puppy in her arms. She had limited time to hide the sweet boy in the spare room.

She moved silently through the halls, stroking his soft ears as she did. She paused at the door, hearing a soft whine from another animal followed by Eris's gentle voice. “I know little one,” she heard him moving followed by another whine. “I promise you will be held and loved to your tiny hearts content.”

Amelia looked down at the pup, then back to the door, she knew it was coming. Knew the sweet boy was now curious. She closed her eyes as it came, a soft high pitched bark breaking the silence and causing the room before them to grow still.

She knew he would know that noise without even needing to hear it a second time. They'd been visiting this litter multiple times the past few months, and Eris had his eye on this little male from day one.

He didn't show much promise as a hunting companion, but he was fiercely protective. He had thrown himself between Eris and Amelia, growling at the heir for kissing her.

They had both wanted to take him home, but something had held Eris back. Yet he still wanted to visit him daily. Each time they did, the smile on Eris's face was one Amelia could not recreate. She didn't bother moving or hiding when she heard his footsteps rushing to that spare room door.

“Well well well, what do we have here,” Eris put an Arm to the upper part of The door frame, leaning forward with that serpent-like smirk she had fallen in love with. “Hand him over, mate.”

Amelia couldn't help but to smile, craddling the pup closer and Kissing his nose. “I do not think I will. We are supposed to exchange our gifts after supper, not before,” she paused as Eris rolled his eyes, moving to her and kissing Her gently before taking the small smoke hound. “You weren't supposed to be home.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “I lied about having the meeting with father. I thought if I made It sound like you'd be alone most of the day, you'd be gone. Not sneak off for Less than an hour.” He towered over her, warmth radiating off of his body. “Perhaps we can begin our own tradition? I have someone waiting to meet you as well.”

He took her hand leading her into the room without second thought of the consequences they'd face for not involving his family in their first solstice exchange.

Curled up on that spare bed, laid a small long furred animal. It had hidden It's small face behind a bushy red and brown tail, but those black little ears still sat perked up.

Eris continued to pull her into the chair in the room, sitting her in his lap. “It is an Autumn Court traditional for males to present their Mate with a fox as a way of asking for the consumption of the bond,” he ran a hand through her long blonde hair, curling a piece of it as he went. “In human terms, it would be like a marriage offering.”

Amelia swallowed hard. It had been a year since she came to Autumn, and They had discussed marriage and the bond off and on, but never like this. Eris kissed her left hand before continuing. “It is also Autumn court tradition for the female to accept the fox with a gift centered around her mate's passions and interests.”

“Like a smoke hound,” she whispered softly, making Eris nod.

“That's why we are doing this alone,” he tilted her face towards his, that warm hand making her shiver in delight. “I will not take the pup as a sign of that, unless you would like it to be one.”

She watched as the pup struggled before getting up in the bed and moving slowly to snuggle the kit. Both of the small Creatures sighed in delight and comfort as they cuddled into each other. “They already have a pack mentality.” Eris nodded at the statement. “It would be cruel to give him less Meaning than that sweet little fox.”

His only response was to pull her face to his, crashing warm lips on hers and kissing her deeply. when They pulled apart, his forehead found her own, resting there. “Happy solstice, Amelia,” he put her hair behind her ear. “To 100 more.”

“Happy solstice, Eris.”

#acotar #eris vanserra #eris x oc #eris fic #eris vanserra x oc #pro eris #pro eris vanserra #eris x archeron!oc #kissedbyfire #elizabeths.maternitycelebration

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the-art-of-ancunin · 3 months

Text

I'll Be Good [One-Shot]

Summary: As the newest addition to the Vampire Ascendent's twisted little family, you've already proven yourself to be the most vexatious, obstinate, and thankless child he's had the pleasure of breaking. Though he hasn't succeeded quite yet, Astarion is determined to make you bend to his will, to mold you into something useful...though he realizes that perhaps his original intentions may have been a bit off the mark when you manage to pierce through his carefully built walls and awaken something in him that he assumed had perished long ago.

Pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Spawn!Female Reader

Content Warning(s): SMUT, dirty talk, Daddy kink, Creampie, P-in-V, unprotected sex, some overstimulation, etc.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Also, again... I did not proofread this, no beta-reader, so it might be shit. Let's find out together.

Word Count: 4.9K

The moon hung like a pale specter against the blackened sky, casting a cold, silvery glow over the Crimson Palace as you approached its looming gates. The air was thick with the scent of decay and spices, mingling with the bitter tang of your own despair. Your steps were soundless against the well-worn cobblestones, betraying no hint of your return. Your mind churned with revulsion; you had ventured into Baldur's Gate under the gloom of night, not exactly as a predator but as bait, tasked to ensnare an innocent for your Master’s insatiable appetite.

"Six months," you whispered to yourself, the words a ghostly mist in the chill air. "Six months of this cursed existence." At first, Master Astarion had been lenient, allowing you time to adapt to the thirst that now clawed at your insides, to the newfound strength that coiled in your muscles like a dormant serpent. But his patience had waned and his expectations had risen like the tide.

"Useful" – the word twisted in your gut, a cruel mockery of servitude. You could scrub the castle from top to bottom until your hands bled anew, yet it would never be enough. Fetching trinkets, scrubbing stone, and worse…much worse. This was to be your life, and it all boiled down to control - to Astarion's iron grip on the reins of power, forcing you and everyone else to dance to his whims. You were no stranger to playing the pawn, your life prior stood as testament to the manipulation suffered by those who claimed authority over you. But at least back then, you figured, death would have been the end of it.

"There you are," a voice slithered from the shadows. You immediately stiffened, your undead heart a frozen shard in your chest. Astarion sat, reclined in a beautifully crafted chair situated near the front door - the dim light glinting off his gilded chalice, the crimson liquid within a stark reminder of your grim existence.

"Master," you acknowledged, the title a leaden weight on your tongue.

"Out and about, playing the part of the dutiful daughter?" His smirk cut through the darkness, a blade honed by centuries of cunning. "Yet, you return to me empty-handed. Again."

Your resolve flickered as you met his gaze, those vermillion eyes a tempest of enigmatic desires. "The night was...unkind to me, I admit. My apologies," you lied smoothly, your voice a practiced melody of regret.

"Unkind," he echoed mockingly. "For as pretty as you are, my sweet, it's quite astonishing how you've proven to be such a lousy whore. We all must earn our keep in this family, Y/N. You know this." His tone held the chill of an unspoken threat.

"Of course, Master," you said, your voice betraying none of the turmoil that raged within you. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms, a small act of defiance against his suffocating rule.

"Words are but wind, my dear," He continued, rising gracefully to stand before you. "Actions are what bind us – or condemn us."

You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, as tangible as the stone walls that encased them. Every instinct screamed to flee, to rail against the chains that bound you to his side, but survival was a lesson hard-learned. Composure was your shield, obedience your sword.

"I'd be more than happy to clean this palace top to bottom every day until the sky falls down," you replied, each word measured and deliberate. "I've told you this a hundred times or more. I'll gladly earn my keep, but I am not going to whore myself just to keep your snack cupboard stocked. I'm not that type of girl and not even you can take that from me. I won't let you."

You let out a strangled yelp as your Master’s iron grip encircled your throat, the cold touch of his fingers a stark contrast to the fire that had been kindling between you moments before. Your feet dangled helplessly above the marble floor, your back collided harshly against the unforgiving stone wall behind you. His eyes, dark as you had ever seen them, burned into yours with an intensity that could sear flesh.

"Displeased, are we?" he sneered, the venom in his voice dripping like acid. "The world outside these walls is a cruel one, darling. You know that...but if you'd rather go waltzing back into your father's open arms...well, that can be arranged. That drunkard who treated you like filth? My...I'm sure he'd be quite surprised to see you."

Your blood pounded in your ears, each thrum a drumroll of panic and resignation. You could feel the oppressive weight of Astarion's power crushing your spirit, but the thought of returning to your father's brutality was a fate worse than any torment your master could devise. In a choked whisper borne of fear and desperation, you managed to utter, "No, no, no - Please..."

"Good," He growled. "So we have an understanding, then?"

Your nod was almost imperceptible, your gaze not leaving his. The silence stretched taut between you until you added softly, with a trace of disdain you couldn't suppress, "Yes, Daddy ."

His vermillion eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within their depths. "What was that?" he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Shit.

"Nothing, Master. I just said yes." Your words were barely audible, a mere breath carried on the stagnant air of the corridor.

"No. Say it again. As you did before," he commanded, something primal awakening inside him.

You hesitated. His grip tightened.

"Yes, Daddy." The words slipped from your lips, strained and hesitant. You couldn't decipher the look that painted his beautiful yet terrifying face—a mosaic of power, anger, and something else you dared not name.

He released his hold, allowing you to slide down the wall, your legs quivering as they struggled to support your weight. He didn't step away, though; instead, he caged you within the prison of his arms, his presence enveloping you. His hand, no longer a vise on your neck, traced a path up your trembling form, coming to rest beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he whispered, his thumb brushing across your lower lip with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of his earlier actions.

You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. There was no escaping the raw desire that swirled in those fathomless pools. The tension crackled between you, electric and overwhelming.

"Are you afraid, little one?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr that resonated in the hollows of your chest.

"Of you? Don't flatter yourself," Your reply came out steadier than you felt, the rebellious spark within you flickering to life despite the danger.

Your Master chuckled, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. "You should be. There are so very many things that I could do to you, sweet girl."

His breath brushed against your skin, igniting a shiver that danced along your spine.

"Perhaps it's time we renegotiate the terms of this little arrangement of ours, yes?" He purred, his grip on your chin tightening ever so slightly.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a cruel mockery of affection. You swallowed hard, your throat dry with fear and anticipation.

"What do you mean?" you squeaked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I rule over this palace, this city, and over my... beloved children, with an iron first - it's true," he spoke lowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "But an unreasonable man, I am not. You want to refuse to work - to help provide for yourself and your family? For me, the man who gifted you with life eternal and stole you away from the misery of your previous existence? Who took you in from the slums to live in luxury inside of his palace? Well...so be it, darling. You don't want to whore yourself out on the streets? Fine . Allow me to show you what's to be expected of you now - think of this as a chance to prove your worth, hm? If you do well, you'll never have to set foot in the city ever again ."

You hesitated for a moment too long, the uncertainty in your eyes betraying you. Astarion's hand left your chin, replacing it with a firm grip around your upper arm, leading you down the shadowy corridor.

"Come now," he said, his tone gruff but laced with promise. "Let us test your... endurance , shall we?"

The darkness enveloped you as you journeyed deeper into the palace, each step echoing ominously in the dank corridors. With every passing moment, you felt more and more like you were spiraling into an abyss you could never escape.

Astarion stopped abruptly, pulling you to a halt in front of a heavy wooden door. Your stomach dropped.

The Kennels.

The knob turned with a groan, and the door swung open to reveal a small, windowless room, the air inside heavy with the scent of ancient blood and endless anguish.

You took a deep breath, your undead heart twisting violently in your chest. This was where all the "expendable" assets of the household were kept, the lowest of the low - and you knew it.

"Inside," He commanded coldly.

"No!" You cried as you tried to pull away from his grip, "Please, no! I'll be good - Please! Please, I swear it!" But his hold on you only tightened, his fingertips digging into your arm.

"You're going to learn, my dear," He murmured, his voice low and hungry, "You're going to learn to submit to me, one way or another."

With a harsh shove, you stumbled forward into the room. Air rushed out of your lungs as you hit the cold, unyielding stone beneath you, the room's darkness swallowing you whole. Astarion stood over you, his pale silhouette framed by the doorway.

"Careful now, pet," He cooed, clicking his tongue in faux concern. His voice was a melody that belied the danger it carried. "Are you hurt?"

Your palms stung with abrasions as you shuffled backward, your gaze locked onto the elf who towered above you. You hastily examined yourself, feeling the sting of fresh scrapes on your knees, the evidence of your flesh's betrayal: small droplets of blood blossoming against your skin. "I'm fine," you managed, your voice steadier than you felt, propped up on trembling elbows, the fabric of your dress offering scant protection from the chill of the room.

"Fine," he repeated, a predator's grin carving into his features as his eyes flicked to the wounds on your knees before raking over your form. There was something unsettlingly tender about the way he observed you, as if you were both prey and masterpiece all at once.

Astarion's movements were fluid as he began to unbuckle his belt. The leather slid through the loops with an ominous whisper, and the air grew thick with tension. A strange glint, like the edge of a knife, flashed in his eyes, capturing your every fleeting emotion: surprise morphing into disgust, then a shameful twinge of longing that betrayed your better judgment.

"Do you have any idea how long it has been since I've sought... relief, Y/N?" His voice was silk and steel.

"Hours, I presume?" Your voice dripped with malice, belying the flutter of your pulse at the sight of the discarded belt.

A chuckle escaped him, low and resonant, as he methodically worked the buttons of his shirt. "Decades," he corrected, the word punctuated by the soft pop of fabric yielding to his deft fingers.

"Decades seem but moments for someone with eternity at their disposal," you shot back, wearing your defiance as a thin veil.

He shrugged off the shirt, revealing his chest sculpted from moonlight and marble, his smirk cutting through the darkness. "I have not known another's touch since I was but a spawn myself," he confessed, his voice a hush of raw truth that slithered through the shadows. "A time before your father's seed even thought to take root."

Your laughter rang hollow in the confined space. "And am I to believe you've satiated yourself with nothing but your own hand? A creature as comely as yourself?" You challenged, pushing down the unnerving awareness of his proximity.

"Indeed." His affirmation was simple, yet it held the weight of ages within it. "Desire was a luxury stripped from me, a complication I was content to live without." A pause, and then he stepped closer. "Until a vexatious little brat invaded my sanctuary and ignited a problem I presumed to have been long extinguished."

Your mind whirred, caught between disbelief and the dawning realization of what this meant. Your body reacted more honestly than you cared to admit, a thrum of anticipation weaving through your veins despite the gravity of the situation. You cursed yourself inwardly, your instincts betraying you again—how could you desire this monster, this bastard, this tyrant?

His movements were fluid, a whisper of fabric against skin as he untied the laces that held his trousers. His deliberate hands betrayed no urgency, yet each motion was laden with intent. With a deft flick of his wrist, the garment fell away, followed by the muted sound of his underclothes as they joined the heap of discarded attire.

Your gaze traced the lines of his body, a study in contrasts—his pallid skin almost luminous against the room's shadows. Your breath left you as you noted the prominent veins low on his torso, like pale blue rivulets frozen in time, leading to the cradle of his arousal. Your Master stood unabashed, his bare body exposed to your gaze. His manhood, thick and rigid between his legs, continued to swell as he wrapped his long fingers around it. With each stroke of his hand, his cock throbbed and pulsed in response, the movements hypnotic and undeniably human. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he continued to pleasure himself in front of you. A flush crept up your neck at the sight of him, his nakedness and self-pleasure stirring something inside you. With each pull of his hand, more of his flushed head was revealed, his foreskin sliding back and forth like a dance of concealment and revelation that quickened your pulse.

"Undress," he ordered, his voice a velvet demand that left no room for argument. Clearing his throat, he held your gaze, the crimson of his eyes smoldering with a lifetime's worth of longing, suddenly exhumed from the depths of his being.

"Or do you need assistance?" There was a taunt woven into his words, a challenge that roused both defiance and curiosity within you.

"I'm not a child," you spat back, even as your fingers moved to the fastenings of your dress, a traitorous mix of fear and desire propelling your actions. Each button popped open, an audible punctuation to the silence that stretched between you, thick with anticipation.

As fabric parted to unveil your skin, your thoughts tangled with the implications of what lay ahead. Were you yielding to his will or seizing control of the only thing that you could—the power of your own flesh?

"Good girl," Astarion praised, a sinister satisfaction lining his tone. Yet, for all his composure, there was a glint of something else—a flicker of awe or perhaps admiration—at your defiant display of vulnerability.

"I'm not that, either," you whispered teasingly, lying bare before him on the cold stone in all of your glory, your chin lifted in silent rebellion. But the look in his eye, the way it softened ever so slightly, told you that the game had shifted, that this moment was more than a simple exchange of power. It was a crossing of thresholds, a venture into a realm where the line between captor and captive blurred into nothingness, leaving you simply as man and woman, bound by the weight of your desire.

The air grew heavy with the scent of lust as Astarion stepped closer, his hand a rhythmic presence on his needy cock. The moonlight cast an otherworldly glow upon his pale skin, turning it almost translucent as he moved like a creature of myth. He lowered himself to his knees with an effortless grace, parting your legs with a deliberate touch.

" Ahh , but you will be," He rasped. "You're going to be a very, very good girl for Daddy from now on, aren't you?"

You simply stared for a moment as you processed his words, your body responding involuntarily to the command in his tone—your nipples peaked in anticipation. A mix of fear and arousal churned within you as you met his eyes, so deep and captivating it felt as if he could see into the very depths of your soul.

A small, involuntary cry escaped you as Astarion pressed his cockhead against the slick warmth between your thighs. He drew the length of his hardness along your folds slowly, each stroke a promise of what was to come. When the tip brushed your swollen nub, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, rendering you momentarily speechless.

"Y-yes," you managed to whisper, your eyes locked onto his with a mixture of trepidation and longing.

"Speak up, dear. I didn't quite catch that." His cheeky wit laced his words, though his expression remained intense, demanding.

Your lips parted, the words coming louder this time, filled with the knowledge of the power exchange between them. "Yes, daddy ."

"Again," he commanded, not because he hadn't heard you, but because he relished in the sound of your submission. Each repetition carved your acquiescence deeper into the fabric of this encounter between you.

"Yes, daddy," you repeated, your voice now steady with acceptance.

This was the game Astarion played best, a dance of dominance and surrender. After years of being subjected to Cazador Szarr's cruel whims, the tables had finally turned. Now he wielded control, and in it, he found a dark solace. No longer a pawn, he was now the master of his own desires, a vampire ascendant, savoring the sweet yield of another's will beneath him.

His hips slid forward with just enough force that it sent shivers coursing through your sensitive core. You arched beneath him, your back pressing against the cold stone, your nails scraping against it as you sought purchase. Your breaths came faster, your eyes widening in a mix of shock and pleasure.

"That's it, darling," He coaxed, his voice low and sultry. "Let me hear you say it. Tell Daddy what you want."

"I want you," you confessed, the words tumbling off of your lips like an admission of defeat. "Please fuck me."

Astarion chuckled deep in his throat, something wicked and wild in his eyes. With a burst of motion, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth, tasting your submission.

"Try again."

"I want you," you said again, your voice shaking with anticipation. "Please, Daddy - Please, fuck me."

Your Master’s eyes burned with desire as he pulled back from your lips, the scent of your arousal filling his senses. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock already slick with your juices.

"Is this what you want, sweet girl?" he asked, his voice quiet and seductive, gently teasing your entrance with his swollen head as he spoke, "I need you to be certain."

"Yes, Daddy," you moaned, your hips bucking involuntarily, urging him closer.

With a low growl, Astarion pressed into you, letting out a small groan as his tip popped through the tight threshold of your snug channel. You were so small, so tight, and his cock stretched you like nothing you had ever experienced. The simple feat of taking the fat crown of him into your body had knocked the air from your lungs as your body attempted to adjust to the invasion, the pleasure mingling with the pain of being split open. You thanked the Gods that you no longer required air to live, as the intensity of that first shallow stroke paled in comparison to the fullness of feeling him sink another inch of his rigid shaft into you.

"Y/N," he groaned, his hips pulling back just slightly before pushing forward once more, sinking more of his cock into your tight hole every time he slid in and out of you in a gentle, steady rhythm.

You blinked a few times, mouth agape as your inner walls continued to struggle, hesitant to yield to him in spite of the way your arousal drenched your thighs. You could feel every inch, every pulse, every vein that adorned his hardness as he moved within you, opening you up in ways you had never imagined.

“Gods, Astarion," you whispered, your voice thick with desire. In spite of yourself, you found yourself craving that twinge of pain that pierced through your core each time he pressed a little deeper. Gods, it hurt but then…it felt so fucking good, too. You wanted nothing more than to feel him buried deep inside of you, until his heavy balls were pressed tightly against your bottom.

The pale elf snarled, almost as if he could read your mind - his thrusts becoming more forceful, his hips slamming against your delicate form. A sordid scream tore from your throat as your body was forced to accept him fully, the agonizing pleasure coursing through your veins with each thrust.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans echoing off the cold stone walls, merging into a symphony of passion and release. Astarion's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust into you with fervor.

He leaned down as he whispered into your ear, his voice a velvety promise. "You're going to come for me, aren't you, little one?"

A small moan escaped you, Astarion’s piercing gaze and the depravity of this intimate act overwhelming both body and mind. You could feel the hot wetness of your sex coating your inner thighs and dripping onto the stone below as your climax began to build.

"Yes," you whimpered, your voice filled with raw need. "Fuck, Daddy - I'm so close...,"

Astarion's hips pounded against you with increasing urgency as he felt you nearing your peak. He knew that once you came, you would be his, submission and surrender so complete that it would bind you together forever.

"That's it, darling," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Come for me. Scream my name as you take me. Let your brothers and sisters know who Daddy's favorite is."

He pumped into you harder, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that permeated the air. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling as the intense pleasure built within you. You could feel your orgasm cresting, your walls tightening around his cock.

"Yes," you cried out, your voice strained. "Please, Daddy, I need you - I need to...ahhh!"

Hearing your plea sent a shockwave of desire through Astarion's body, causing him to press into the soft barrier of your cervix over and over again. His cock was like a branding iron, carving his name into the sacred landscape of your womb, of your very soul.

"Gods, yes," You mewled, your eyes locked onto his as the delicious dragging of his thick shaft moving inside of you became too much to bear. With a shuddering gasp, you came undone, your pussy clenching and spasming around him as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over you.

Astarion watched your face as you came, the way your lips parted, your eyes rolling back into your head, your body bucking beneath him in unbridled passion. He knew this was only the beginning. As your orgasm subsided, he continued to rut into you, his cock twitching and throbbing with each stroke, eager to find its own release.

With each slap of his hips against yours, a whimper escaped your lips, your nails digging into the cold stone as your body was pushed to its limits. The pleasure was almost too much, but you found yourself craving more, wanting to give him everything you had.

As your orgasm faded into a gentle hum, you found yourself wanting to reciprocate. You wrapped your legs around your Master’s waist, pulling him closer to you, allowing him to fuck himself into you as deeply as he desired as your hips matched his rhythm. Your hands clutched him tightly, your nails softly digging into his skin as you found your own desire beginning to resurface.

"Daddy," you pleaded pathetically, "Fuck me. Make me yours. Please."

Astarion's eyes widened for but a moment at your words, his thrusts wavering only for a second before his flesh once again met yours with a punishing pace, the lewd sound of your squelching sex and skin meeting skin echoed off of the walls.

"That's it, sweet girl," he rasped, his voice breaking for just a moment as a moan escaped his lips. "Take it all. Let me feel you around me."

Your eyes locked onto his, your breaths coming in short gasps as pleasure and pain mingled within you, creating a symphony of sensations that threatened to consume you and suddenly you noticed that familiar tension building within you once again.

"Ahh, fuck...please," You cried, "Fuck, its too much..."

A choked scream tore from your chest before his name spilled from your lips, your body writhing beneath your master as his fangs pierced the skin of your neck.

Astarion drank deeply, the taste of your blood filling him with a sense of completeness he had never known. He pulled away, his lips leaving a faint kiss on the mark he had made on your neck.

"Ssshh - you're taking it so well, darling," he groaned, his hands gripped your hips roughly, pulling you tightly against him. "I'm so close, love. Come with me."

Your body trembled as your climax grew closer with each thrust of his cock into your wet heat. It felt like a wildfire, igniting every nerve and sensitive spot in your body.

"Please, Daddy," you whined, your voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies joining. " Ahhh -"

Astarion pistoned himself into you, his thrusts becoming erratic as once again you approached your peak. Your pussy clenched around him, urging him closer to his own release.

"That's it, pet," he purred, "Let it happen. Let go."

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body trembling as you surrendered to the sensations coursing through you. The agonizing fullness of your master spearing into your core all but consumed you entirely as you came undone once again - you cried his name from your lips, the sound reverberating throughout the palace.

With a deep, guttural growl, Astarion sank into you one final time, burying every last inch of himself inside of your pretty little cunt as his aching balls tightened. Every muscle in his body tensed and quivered as he emptied himself inside you, your bodies coming together in a carnal display of ecstasy and release. Your breathing was heavy and ragged, the sweat on your skin mingled with one another as you laid locked in each other's embrace. The intensity of the moment consumed you both, leaving you both trembling with raw passion and desire.

The quivering shadows on the walls seemed to dance with your lingering tremors, echoes of your pleasure slowly subsiding. Astarion withdrew himself from your tender warmth, leaving a palpable emptiness in his wake.

"Shh," He whispered against your flushed skin, his lips brushing your face and neck with a tenderness that belied his predatory nature, a stark contrast to the fervor you had just shared. With hands both firm and gentle, he turned you onto your stomach, the cool stone pressing against your cheek as you complied wordlessly.

Your hips were lifted by his confident grasp, baring you to him once more. The air caressed your exposed flesh, heightening your awareness of your own vulnerability and the wet that continued to coat and trickle down your thighs—a tribute to your union. Astarion's purr vibrated through the silence, a sound of dark satisfaction as he admired the sight before him.

"Look at you... such a good girl for me, Y/N." His voice was soft yet sinister, a paradox that sent shivers down your spine. As he stroked the swell of your ass with an almost reverent touch, you braced yourself. Expecting a strike that never came.

"Thank... thank you, Master," you managed, your words trembling as much as your body. Your eyes, heavy-lidded with exhaustion, sought out his face. Even now, his attention was fixated on the proof of his possession, the essence of him that marked you as his own.

His fingers traced the intimate path where your bodies had been joined, gathering the evidence of his claim and deliberately pushing it back inside of you with a possessiveness that was both invasive and oddly comforting. You winced, the sensation overwhelming yet incomplete without him filling you entirely.

"Is it too much?" he teased, his tone laced with feigned concern and a pout that only served to mock. You could see the glint of amusement in his eyes, the playful cruelty that he so often enjoyed.

You shook your head, a silent plea for him to continue, to test the boundaries of your resilience. You would endure; you would be good.

You promised.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion smut #daddy k!nk

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theostrophywife · 6 months

Text

kiss with a fist | chapter five.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: me and the devil - soap & skin.

author's note: things are picking up. a little bit of angst, a little bit of smut and a whole lot of theo just being theo.

After three consecutive brewing sessions without any incidents or explosions, Theo was fairly confident that you had mastered Angel’s Trumpet. All thanks to his supreme knowledge. His words, not yours.

“Today’s the day,” Luna announced cheerfully as she hooked her arm through your elbow.

The two of you walked through the sun soaked courtyard, weaving through your fellow loitering students. “Let’s hope to Merlin that I don’t blow up the place.”

“You won’t,” Luna said supportively. “Though if you do, you can always blame it on the wrackspurts.”

“Wait up, Lovegood!”

Luna slowed as Mattheo Riddle and Enzo Berkshire flanked your side. Mattheo smirked at you while Enzo waved politely. The former had a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

You wrinkled your nose in disgust. “Smoking isn’t allowed on campus grounds, you know. I should dock points from your house.”

Mattheo raised a brow. “Go ahead, little miss prefect, but then I’d be inclined to let slip that our studious little Ravenclaw has been sneaking into the Slytherin boy’s dormitory at all hours of the night.” You gaped, turning red as you fought the urge to clobber him right then and there. “The walls are very thin, you know. I could hear you and Theo giggling from across the hall.”

“We were just eating gelato!”

Riddle appeared unconvinced. Even Enzo struggled to hide his grin. “Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays? Anyways, I’m not interested in who's eating whose gelato.”

“You’re a menace and a pest.”

“I’ve been called worse, sweetheart.”

“Anyways,” Enzo interjected. “Pansy wanted to know what snacks you prefer for the quidditch game after party, Luna." The Slytherin boy turned towards you and smiled. "You’re invited too, Y/N.”

You raised a brow at your friend. “You’re going to a Slytherin party? Hosted by Pansy Parkinson? Who is apparently concerned about your snack preferences?”

Luna blushed. “I meant to tell you about it, but I figured Theo had already invited you.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Mattheo said with a grin. “Notty boy probably asked her in between spoonfuls of gelato and pillow fights.”

“Is there an actual point to your existence or are you just here to be a pain in my arse?”

“One would argue that irking you is a purpose all on its own.”

“Tell Pans that I’d love a bag of wotsits,” interjected Luna. Berkshire looked relieved to receive an answer.

“Right, then. Mattheo and I will relay the message.”

“But I wasn’t—”

“Let’s go, mate. Before Snape gives you another detention.”

Mattheo blew a kiss as Enzo dragged him away, which you returned with a classy display of your middle finger.

“Pans?” you asked incredulously. Luna flashed you an innocent smile before pushing you towards the potions classroom.

“We’ll talk about it later. After you ace Angel’s Trumpet!”

You watched in astonishment as your best friend’s platinum blonde head disappeared into the crowd, happily bobbing up and down. “This isn’t over, Loons!”

Luna giggled and gave you a cheeky wink as she rounded the corner.

“What was that all about?” Theo asked as you slipped into your usual seat.

“What do you know about this newfound friendship between Pansy Parkinson and my best friend?”

“Oh, I’d say it’s much more than a friendship.”

“Luna…and…Pansy. How is that even possible?”

“Well, when a mommy and mommy love each other…” quipped Theo.

You raised a hand, flashing him a glare. “I mean, I know that it’s possible. Just not between those two. They have virtually nothing in common.”

He shrugged. “Opposites attract.”

“But Luna’s so sweet and nice and thoughtful and Pansy’s…” Theo gave you a warning look. Slytherins could insult each other all they wanted, but the serpents had some twisted code of loyalty to one another. “You know what I mean, Theodore. I know she’s your friend, but if she hurts Luna I swear to Godric I’ll shove a Nimbus so far up—”

“I think I get the gist, diavolina. Why is your first instinct always violence? Aren’t you Ravenclaws supposed to approach things with logic?”

“The logical response to anyone hurting my friends is violence.”

Theo’s mouth quirked. “Is it strange that I’m weirdly turned on by that?” You smacked his arm in response, which he yelped rather dramatically at. “Lovegood’s perfectly capable of holding her own, you know. She wouldn’t have caught Pansy’s eye if she wasn’t.”

“Parkinson’s treating her well, then?”

“Oh, more than well. I haven’t seen her this giddy since she abandoned the straight act.” You bit back a smile at that comment. “I mean, imagine having to pretend to be attracted to Malfoy.”

“I heard that, you twat,” Draco said from a few seats over.

Theo blew his friend a kiss. “You were meant to, Dray.”

You almost let out a snort, but you caught it just in time. Theo grinned from ear to ear as you glared at him. He leaned in, nudging you with his elbow.

“That charming little laugh is supposed to be our little secret, amorina.”

You flushed as he winked at you. Fortunately, all conversations ceased as Professor Slughorn entered the room.

“Good afternoon, students. As you know, we will be brewing Angel’s Trumpet Draught today. You will have ninety minutes to complete the assignment. Whoever brews the best draught will receive a special reward.”

Slughorn clapped his hands, sending the room into a frenzy. “Best of luck, then.”

By now, the steps were so ingrained that you hardly had to think about it. You and Theo had poured over Alessandra’s grimoire for countless hours. The instructions and illustrations floated in your mind as you worked quietly. Your movements were sure and confident, executing each step with an odd sense of calm. Usually, you were tense while you brewed, but it was different this time around.

Across the table, you looked up and found Theo hunched over his cauldron. There was an intense expression on his face as he brewed and his fingers moved with expert precision. It was such a stark contrast to his usual easy breezy attitude that it made you smile. Sensing your gaze, Theo turned and pierced you with those watercolor eyes. Finally, it dawned on you what they reminded you of.

Theo’s eyes were like the Black Lake—deep and full of danger, but beautiful in a strange sort of way.

The intrusive thought nearly broke your focus. You didn’t have time to think about what it meant—you didn’t want to think about what it meant. Instead, you fixed your attention to the task at hand.

After stirring clockwise and then counterclockwise, you watched with bated breath as the draught simmered to a shimmery mauve color. The perfumed aroma wafted from the cauldron, catching the attention of those around you. Theo appeared nearly as anxious as you while the draught bubbled softly.

Then, a puff of smoke billowed to signal your success. You had never felt so relieved and proud. All that hard work had paid off.

“I did it,” you said incredulously. “I fucking did it!”

Before you even realized what was happening, you were leaping into Theo’s arms. He chuckled, spinning you in the air with a huge grin.

“I knew you could,” he declared proudly. “I’m so proud of you.”

His words made you flush all the way to the tips of your ears. Since you were little, you thrived off of praise and recognition. Commendation had always been every Ravenclaw's drug, but with Theo it almost felt like an Achilles heel. The weak spot that may very well provide him with the perfect opening to your steel armor.

Suddenly, you were all too aware of how close you were. Theo seemed to realize this too because he set you down gently and scratched the back of his head like the moment baffled him too. Luckily, your classmates were too engrossed in their own cauldrons to notice the outburst.

Theo cleared his throat. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to—just got a bit excited—”

“No—it’s fine—perfectly understandable—” you mumbled, straightening your tie to avoid making eye contact.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here then?”

The two of you leapt apart as if electrocuted. Thankfully, Professor Slughorn was perfectly oblivious to the awkward tension. He peered into your cauldron, scrutinizing the color, smell, and texture of the draught. After a few moments, he gave an approving nod.

“We have our winner,” the older man declared. Slughorn took a few drops of the draught and placed it into a vial. He passed it around your classmates. “This, my dears, is how you brew a perfect potion. When prepared properly, Angel’s Trumpet Draught is known to cause vivid hallucinations. A large enough dose can even result in psychosis. It is a poison commonly used by those who practice the dark arts to drive its consumer into madness, heightening their torture to a sadistic degree. Notably, the Dark Lord’s servants were overly fond of using this particular potion paired with the Cruciatus curse.”

Beside you, Theo stiffened as several of your classmates glanced at him and Draco. You frowned, shooting sharp daggers at anyone who dared to meet your gaze. The lingering prejudice after the final battle still hung over Slytherin house like a malevolent fog, but you would’ve thought that your fellow classmates would have enough sense to realize that not everything was black and white. The world existed in shades of gray. Every Ravenclaw knew that. Still, even your fellow housemates regarded Theo with suspicion.

Your fists curled at your sides. “Didn’t Godric Gryffindor invent the potion?”

“Yes, very good Y/N.”

“I’d say it’s safe to assume that he was aware of the potential damage of the potion. Dark wizard or not, everyone is capable of creating weapons of mass destruction. Either that or good old Godric had a pretty wild acid trip planned with the rest of the founders.”

Behind you, Malfoy snorted while Theo bit his lip to keep from smirking.

Professor Slughorn was taken aback for a moment before continuing his spiel. “Whatever his reasons, Godric created a rather potent potion. Our job is to deconstruct Angel’s Trumpet in order to counter its effects. Next class, each of you will turn in a list of ingredients for a possible anti-potion.” He waved his hand, dismissing the class. “Good luck.”

One by one, students started filtering out of the potions lab. You followed after them until Slughorn called you back.

“Miss Y/N, stay. There’s still the matter of your reward to discuss.”

You walked up to his desk, fidgeting with the strap of your satchel. You were fairly certain that he was about to give you a dressing down for your snarky comment. Instead, Slughorn offered you a kind smile and a scroll of parchment.

“A letter of recommendation,” the Professor explained. “While I am aware that you have already secured a spot at Oxford, I hope that this will help in your pursuits of being recruited by the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. It was widely known that Slughorn was a longstanding member of the society. Not only that, but he held sway in which applicants were eventually accepted as well. A letter of recommendation from him was basically a guarantee.

“Thank you, Professor. Since first year, it’s been my dream to join the society.”

“You’re well on your way, Y/N,” he said with an encouraging nod. “I must say, that brew of Angel’s Trumpet was even better than some of my fellow colleagues. You are an exceptionally talented witch and I am very much interested in cultivating talent like yours, which is why I’d like to extend a dinner invitation to you.”

A letter of recommendation and an invitation to an infamous slug club dinner? Seventh year was definitely your year. But still, something niggled at your brain.

“Thank you, professor. I truly appreciate it, but I have to be honest. I didn’t brew that potion on my own. I had a great deal of help from Theodore. He was the one who taught me how to brew it properly. If anyone deserves the credit, it’s him.”

Even as the words were coming out of your mouth, you couldn’t believe you were actually saying them. It went against every instinct as a Ravenclaw to not use this opportunity to get a leg up in your academics, but it wouldn’t have been right. It wouldn’t have been fair.

Slughorn was quiet for a moment. “Ah yes, I have noticed that Theodore is especially talented in potions. As was his father before him.” He gave you a pointed look before continuing, “Be that as it may, I couldn’t very well extend an invitation to Mr. Nott. His father is a convicted Death Eater facing a life sentence in Azkaban.”

“I know,” you proceeded cautiously. “But Theo has been cleared by the ministry. He had nothing to do with his father’s service to the Dark Lord and has never once expressed loyalty to Voldemort or spread his pureblood propaganda.”

“Don’t get me wrong, dear. I am not accusing Theodore of any wrongdoing. Mr. Nott is an exceptional quidditch player and one of the brightest young wizards of your year, but I’m afraid the optics aren’t in his favor.”

The optics aren’t in his favor. As if public opinion and appearances were all Theo amounted to.

You dug your fingers into your palms, embedding crescent shapes within your skin. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

You were so angry that you wouldn’t be surprised if you looked down to find yourself bleeding. You needed to get out of there. To leave before you said something irrational.

“Thank you again, professor. I should get going for my next class.”

“Of course, dear. Do let me know about dinner.”

You gave him a curt nod before departing. The dungeons passed by in a blur as you stomped your way through the crowded halls. Many of your friends called out to you, but you didn’t bother acknowledging any of them. You were too furious to even have a conversation right now.

You didn’t go to class. Instead, you found yourself on the fourth floor of Ravenclaw Tower. The music room—your place of refuge.

Particles of dust floated like snow through the air as you pulled back the piano cover. Your shoulders were tense, your spine ramrod straight as you sank down onto the bench. Without thinking, your fingers flew angrily over the keys. You channeled all your rage and fury into the song, allowing yourself to feel every surge of emotion with each chord.

It wasn’t right.

It wasn’t fair.

The judgment in your classmate’s eyes. The cowardice in Slughorn’s words. The confusing swirl of emotions it made you feel.

You weren’t used to feeling so much. You valued logic above all and yet here you were, taking out your frustrations on this grand piano like it had personally affronted you.

What in the bloody hell was happening to you?

“Beethoven,” a familiar voice drawled, startling you out of your thoughts. “Merlin, you must really be pissed to be playing moonlight.”

Theo slid into the bench beside you. The piece ended on an unpleasant note with a slam of your fingers.

You refused to look at him. “You should be in Charms right now.”

“So should you,” Theo countered. “Instead, you’re here abusing this poor piano.” He turned over, cocking his head. Then, in a gentler voice, he asked, “What happened, Y/N?”

“Slughorn gave me a letter of recommendation and an invitation to a slug club dinner.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy about that? It’s literally all you’ve been hoping for since first year.”

“He only did that because of the Angel’s Trumpet.”

“Which you brewed perfectly.”

“With your help,” you said with a sigh. “I wouldn’t have been able to brew it at all if you hadn’t helped me and I told him that. I told him that and he—” you inhaled sharply, feeling a million pinpricks in your lungs.

Theo furrowed his brow. “You told him I helped you? Why would you do that?”

“Because, it’s the truth. We both know I couldn’t have done it without you. I don’t deserve that letter of recommendation or the dinner invitation. You do.” You took a ragged breath. “I know it. You know it. Slughorn knows it, but do you know what he told me? He said he couldn’t offer either to you because the optics aren’t in your favor.”

He remained silent, quietly watching you. Theo didn’t even look angry, which frustrated you even more.

“Did you hear me? Slughorn says that he can’t invite his star pupil to dinner because of how it would look. He can’t reward a student’s hard work because it would tarnish his precious reputation.”

Theo stared at you as though he were trying to work something out. He must have found whatever it was, because a second later, he was smiling.

“My nemesis coming to my defense?” He teased, nudging you with his elbow. “Don’t tell me that you’re actually starting to like me, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. “You wish, Nott.” As determined as he was to treat the matter lightly, you just couldn’t seem to let go of it. “No, this isn’t about hate or like. Being judged for your father’s actions isn’t fair.”

Theo merely shrugged. “Nothing in life is fair.”

“How are you not angry about this?”

“Experience.”

You paused. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, is it?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal!” you seethed, baffled that he wasn’t as outraged as you were. “It’s prejudiced bullshit! We’ve been rivals for years and you’ve never once brought up the fact that I’m muggleborn.”

Theo grinned. “There’s plenty of things about you that annoy me that are completely unrelated to your blood status.”

“That’s exactly the point. You don’t buy into this whole blood purity nonsense, but Slughorn is acting like you do.”

“It’s been like this my entire life,” Theo said as if you were merely discussing the weather. “That’s not to say that my existence is some sob story. I am still rich and handsome, after all, but there are stains that even my devastating good looks and trust fund can’t blot out.”

“But you didn’t make those stains.”

Theo smiled sadly. “Neither did Draco or Pansy or Mattheo, but we all pay the price for it anyways.” His hands hovered over your shaking fingers. “It’s alright, Y/N. Since we were old enough to understand, we’ve all known and accepted that our family's reputations will always precede us. For better or for worse. Besides, I much prefer people whispering behind my back than facing a dementor’s kiss.”

“It’s not fair,” you repeated, feeling your heart clench in your chest. “You’re not your father.”

To your surprise, Theo took your face in his hands and kissed you. It was a gentle kiss, his lips pressed softly against yours, noses brushing while he caressed the curve of your jaw. When he pulled away, something heartbreaking flashed through his features.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment. “For caring enough to be angry.”

The combination of the look of gratitude on his face and the soft way he said those words wrenched at your heart. Theo was grateful. Grateful to have someone who cared.

You didn’t know why, but it felt like your heart was breaking.

It must have showed on your face because Theo tilted your chin and kissed you again. This time, he didn’t hold back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. The kiss was a conversation—every peck and nip and bite littered with words that you were too afraid to say. His tongue slid against yours and the taste of him was intoxicating. You could’ve kissed him for hours and you would have if you hadn’t realized that the choir was set to be practicing in this exact room in less than ten minutes.

“We have to go,” you murmured against Theo’s mouth.

“Don’t,” Theo whispered, stealing kisses. “Wanna.” His fingers tangled in your braid as he chased your lips.

“We can go to my dorm.”

Theo pulled away and stared at you. “Your dorm?”

You nodded. “Luna’s in class, as are the rest of my housemates. The tower is completely empty. Why shouldn’t we take advantage of it?”

He smirked. “I like the way you think, my devious little Ravenclaw.”

On high alert, the two of you snuck out of the fourth floor and into the fifth. You quickly answered the eagle’s riddle to enter the common room.

“Wait,” you said, turning towards Theo. “How did you get past the knocker downstairs?”

“I offered to grease its hinges,” he replied salaciously. You snorted, which made him smirk. “I’m kidding. I answered the riddle, obviously. Honestly your constant questioning of my abilities would be rather offensive if I wasn’t made aware of your gallant attempt of defending my honor.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled him into the common room. As you predicted, the tower was completely empty. Theo surveyed the floor to ceiling windows, the four story bookshelves, and the star flecked glass ceiling with awe and admiration. He whistled, taking his surroundings in.

“No wonder you hate the dungeons. This is—excuse the pun—quite magical.”

“It’s even better at night,” you said, staring up at the domed ceiling. “You can practically touch the stars from this high up. If you’re good, maybe I’ll find a way to sneak you in again.”

Theo smirked. “I haven’t even stepped foot in your dorm yet and you’re already thinking about next time. A bit eager aren’t we, dolcezza?”

You rolled your eyes and dragged him into a narrow hallway. The dorm you shared with Luna sat at the top of the spire, offering you the best view in the castle. With a flick of your wand, you unlocked the door.

“Come in before I change my mind, Nott.”

Theo was just as nosy as you were back at his dorm, if not more. He took in the twin blue and gold canopy beds, the arched bay windows strung with enchanted fairy lights, and the built in bookshelves that lined the walls. Despite this, there were still stacks of books by your bedside table that were set to topple over at any moment. Theo gravitated towards your side of the room and ran his fingers through the spines of your beloved novels.

He peered curiously at the pinboard by your desk, examining the variety of pictures—muggle and magical, the concert tickets, the pressed flowers, and even the framed photo of you with your mum and dad standing on platform 9 ¾ taken right before your very first trip to Hogwarts. Theo’s smile widened as he toyed with the hem of his jumper, which was currently draped over your chair. As much as you hated to admit it, the damned thing was so comfortable that you’d taken to sleeping in it almost every night.

“Are you quite finished snooping?” you asked, flushing.

Theo smirked and stalked over to you. “Why? Do you have other plans for me, diavolina?”

“A few.”

He walked you to the bed until the back of your legs met the edge of your mattress. Theo gripped your waist, dipping his head down so his lips ghosted over the hollow of your throat. You arched against his mouth and the low rumble of his dark laughter skittered over your skin.

“Show me, then.”

You pulled him in by his tie and he grinned, leaning down to kiss you. Theo chuckled darkly as you flipped positions and pushed him onto the bed. He watched with hungry eyes as you crawled over him, his wandering hands roaming up your skirt. You gasped as he gripped your thighs, positioning you over him as his lips met yours in a passionate kiss.

There was so much heat and tension between you that it felt like you might spontaneously combust. His touch was fire against your skin, tracing every curve and dip like he was committing every detail to memory. You unbuttoned his shirt and he watched carefully, those hypnotizing eyes locking you in place while he allowed you to undress him.

The romps with Theo had always been frantic and rushed—stolen moments in cupboards, closets, and classrooms, but this time you took it slow. You traced over every mole and scar and freckle on his torso, feeling the heat of his skin underneath your fingertips. His gaze never left yours as he helped you shrug out of your blouse, watching your reaction as he cupped your breasts over your bra before taking it off in one swift move. Once you stripped out of your layers, Theo leaned down to kiss you again.

His lips moulded perfectly to yours, a perfect mix of give and take. You groaned as he nipped at your bottom lip, teasing at the seam. The pressure of his hand against the base of your throat made you gasp.

Theo’s tongue slid against yours as he gently laid you down on your back. His arms bracketed your head on each side and he kept his eyes on your face as he lined himself up at your entrance. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter and when he pushed inside in one swift move, you nearly clawed at his back. The feel of him was so familiar and yet it left you gasping every time. Theo swallowed your moan as he thrust in slowly and your legs wrapped around his waist while your arms snaked through his neck so you could pull him closer.

The sunlight caught in his eyes, the blues and greens and golds refracting like a kaleidoscope in the golden hour glow. “Keep your eyes on me, bella.”

You opened your eyes, whimpering as Theo linked your fingers together. The kisses he gave you were deep, tender, and his lips caressed yours in a way that made you forget your own name. He groaned as you canted your hips against his, meeting his pace with equal hunger.

“That’s it, Y/N. You’re taking it so well for me.” Theo pinned your arms above your head and thrusted deeper. “Breathe, baby. There you go, love. You like that, don’t you?”

Theo pressed his forehead against yours. The hand that wasn’t holding yours crept up your neck, resting at the hollow of your throat. He caressed the side of your neck possessively.

“I need—I need—I,” you stuttered through the words, biting your lip to keep your eyes open. “Deeper, please. I need all of you.”

A stream of curses flowed effortlessly past Theo’s lips. You were already well acquainted with his filthy mouth, but for Godric’s fucking sake, did he have to sound so bloody attractive while swearing in Italian? It was truly, honestly, unfair to the rest of the world. A temptation perfectly crafted to make your knees weak and your heart flutter.

“Oh god, oh fuck, please—“

“You sound so pretty when you beg, but don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Theo hiked your legs over his shoulders and drove into you at a deeper angle. You felt him shudder as your walls clenched around him.

He groaned as you raked your nails across his back. “Feels so good. Don’t stop, please. Just give me all of it.”

“It’s yours, Y/N. All yours.”

Your bodies moved in sync, skin melding against skin until you became a mass of tangled limbs and sex soaked desire. When you locked eyes again, it felt like Theo was peering into your soul.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “Are you close, pretty girl? I can feel it.” He kissed your temple as he filled you over and over again. “Come with me. Can you do that, amorina?”

You nodded as Theo’s fingers brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, pushing you to the precipice. Stars exploded behind your eyes as your body shook underneath his. Theo groaned as he finished, his hips stuttering against yours. He rested his head in the crook of your neck and kissed the hollow of your throat gently.

Instinctively, you brushed back his curls and traced soothing circles against his skin. Theo looked up, his gaze filled with loaded emotion. His eyes flickered over you as though he was savoring the rare display of vulnerability. The two of you laid there for a while, content to bask in the afterglow.

“Dinner will be starting soon,” you whispered, half afraid to break the little bubble of bliss.

“I know.”

“We should probably clean up and get ready.”

“Probably.”

You chuckled. “You know that means we both have to get up and out of bed, right?”

Theo sighed. “Fine.”

Slowly, he gathered his clothes and began putting them back on. You walked over to your chair and shrugged on his jumper before redoing your disheveled braid. When you turned around, you found Theo staring at you with an unreadable expression. There was a faint smile on his face as his eyes raked over the huge jumper covering your body.

“Come to my game.”

You blinked. “What?”

“That’s what I want in exchange for helping you with the draught.”

“I’m not going to cheer for you. In fact, I might cheer against you.”

Theo smirked. “You really know how to deflate a bloke’s ego, don’t you?”

You smiled. “Good. I don’t need your head getting bigger than it already is.”

“That’s strange. You seemed to be enjoying my impressive size just a second ago.”

Rolling your eyes, you tossed Theo’s shirt at his bare torso. “Goodbye, Theodore.”

“I’ll see you on the pitch, princess.”

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#lskjdfkljsdf hey man i'm totally so chill about theo like its so casual #theo nott #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine

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darkearthsuggestions · 2 years

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I will love you like the lichen, tracing slow and gentle up your back-- and I will love you like river moss, soft-brush-springing at your pulse-- and I will love you like grass and the saplings and the serpent-sweet-canes, flush with winding, twining life. I'll give you seeking, rooting, the kind of growing that makes our love a home. I'm afraid you'll have to get used to all my little loves— but you always did look good in green.

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themultifandomgal · 11 months

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Sweet Pea- We Won't Work

I sit down next to Fangs, Opposite Toni and Sweet Pea with my food tray in my hands. Since the Serpents moved to Riverdale High they have quickly become my best friends. During this time Sweet Pea has been trying to get me on a date. Not gonna happen. He’s a player and every girl with some sense will stay away from him. I’ve told him many times that we will never happen, but he’s just so determined to make me one of his quests

“Hey good looking” Sweet Pea smirks as I roll my eyes “so YN did you think about what I asked you?”

“Yes. And just like yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. No” Toni giggles at my response

“Come on man you’ve been at this for months. She’s not gonna go on a date with you” Fangs pats Pea on the shoulder

“Fangs is right. You better give up. There’s plenty of other girls who would love to go on a date with you. Josie is one”

“Josie is Peas secret hook up” I comment

“Not so secret since they were all over each other a few weeks ago and Cheryl’s party” Toni takes some fries off Fangs’ tray

“Me and Josie are over. We wanted different things. And anyway you never gave me a reason why you won’t go on a date with me” Sweet Pea folds his arms and I give him a shrug and eat my lunch

“I’ve dated your kind before and it wasn’t pretty”

“What do you mean by my kind?” He asks crossing his arms. I ignore him as Jug and Betty join us

“Hey guys” Betty smiles. I smile back at her as she sits

“What you guys talking about?” Jug asks sitting opposite Betty

“Just the usual. Sweet Pea trying to get a date with YN”

“Still?” Jughead chuckles shaking his head “dude when are you going to give that one up?” I can see Sweet Pea is starting to get annoyed with all the teasing. He gets up from his seat and walking out of the cafeteria.

After lunch Pea and I have history together, unfortunately for me we sit next to one another. Even worse Mr Roman decide to pared us up together for our history project on President George Washington which is why we are now sat on my bed looking in books and typing on my laptop

“You know we would be a good team. We work well together” Pea says. I sigh knowing he’s not going to give up. He’s persistent, I’ll give him that “so why won’t you go on a date with me?”

“Because we wouldn't work” I say not looking away from the laptop

“Why?”

“Because I'll break your heart?”

“Maybe I'll break yours” I then look at Pea smirking and shake my head

“No you won't. Nobody breaks my heart”

“Ah so you one of these girls who have built up a shield”

“Give it up Sweet Pea. I’ll be your friend, but we’re not dating” I groan as Pea pushes down the lid of the laptop “seriously”

“You said earlier you dated guys like me before. Enlighten me, what do you mean?”

“Players. Guys who jump from one girl to the next. Guys that just want one thing”

“They hurt you. That’s why you said it wasn’t pretty”

“I didn’t actually say who it wasn’t pretty for. Now will you stop asking me 20 questions at get on with our work?” I lift up the lid and we both sit in silence for a couple of minutes getting on with our work when Pea suddenly says

“You know, those rumours about me aren’t exactly true” I look up at Pea who looks remorseful “well not exactly. Yeah I’ll be honest I’ve slept with a few girls, not as many as you think, and it’s because I would find a girl I liked. We’d have sex and she’d run off to tell her friends. I was dumb enough to let it happen a few times. Then girls just stared to make shit up”

“I’m sorry Sweet Pea this shouldn’t have happened” I look at pea with a frown

“It’s ok. Well no it’s not, but I’m ok. The reason I’ve been asking you on a date is because you say no. I mean yes of course I want to go on a date with you, but you don’t throw yourself at me. I’m chasing you and it makes a change” something in me changes and I actually feel for Pea now. Maybe I should give him a chance. See what a date would be like with him

“Fine. I have a shift at Pops tomorrow till 7. Pick me up from there”

“What to finish our project” I chuckle at Sweet Pea

“No you idiot to take me on a date”

“Wait really?”

“Yeah. But I can promise you no sex and probably no kiss either”

“Deal” Peas face lights up. I’ve never seen him smile like this before. And that was all down to me agreeing to a date.

#riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale imagines #sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea

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xhoneygirlxx · 7 months

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Still Adore You (With Your Hand Around My Neck)

Epilogue: Destroy Myself

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: this is the beginning of the end. the start of a chaotic relationship you just can't seem to leave.

warnings: Eddie and Reader are in their 20s. Modern Au! kind of mean Eddie. rated R for smut, 18+ only Minors DNI!! unprotected p in v. cream pie. swearing. shitty writing and grammar errors.

*if i miss anything let me know*

a/n: hello my loves! this is part one to my still adore you series! i hope you guys like it as much as i do. thank you all for the love and support you've given me, i love you all so much <3

Also if you are an ageless/faceless blog you will be blocked. please have something on your profile so I know you are not a minor and are not a bot.

series masterlist

I pray my salvation makes it to the pearly gates,

Bring the suffering that I face,

All the things that I face,

Destroy myself just to wait for you.

When God created the Earth, he picked two of his children to live amongst the paradise he built to be our parents - Adam and Eve. The Garden of Eden was beautiful, a place like no other. The only rule that God gave was for them to not eat from the one tree, the tree of knowledge of right and wrong, good and evil.

They had plenty of other trees to eat from, other fruits to feast on, but when the serpent came speaking words of temptation, Eve gave into him and took a bite from the forbidden fruit, Adam would soon follow after her.

Because of the rule was broken and they went against God, they were banished forever and were cursed with the pain of mortality. Their children and their children's children would face pain and sorrow, hurt and sickness, and ultimately death.

Like Eve, you gave into temptation as well, the warnings you received and how you ignored them all for the name of love. From the very first time you met Eddie Munson warning signs flashed, blinding you with the bright lights. Caution tape blocked you from crossing that line but you inevitably ignored it, ducting under it and continuing on your way.

You walked straight into the line of fire for the promise of nirvana, for just a taste of the sweetness of his love. For the longest time you thought Eve was stupid for falling for the devil's tricks but when he came to you with the prettiest brown eyes and lips that you wanted to kiss for hours, you finally understood.

Dying by the hands of the man that you love is probably the worst death. His strong grip squeezing the air out of you so slowly, smiling at you as he did it felt like torture, but what a way to go. You'd still adore Eddie with his hand wrapped around your neck, with his heavy palm crushing your windpipe, and you'd die so full of love.

The night breeze cools the heat of your skin, hitting your sweat soaked hairline and creating chills that ran up the skin of your arm. The night was still young as they say, the party inside still going in full force. Sweat bodies and clouds of smoke filled every room, creating a sort of heat that quickly became too unbearable.

Quickly finding refuge in crackling embers of the firepit. Unknown people and nameless faces fill the chairs around you, mingling with one another. Despite the happy nature and good vibe of the atmosphere around you, you sit with a permanent frown. Pissed isn't even the word you'd want to use for how you feel at the moment.

Furious, enrage, even spitting angry would be a better description for how you felt towards your friends right now. A random house party in a random place was not how you wanted to spend your Friday night, but then Annika and Nikki looked at you with their big pleading eyes and the end was history.

"We'll stick next to you the whole time," they said, "We promise we won't leave."

Only an hour in and their promise was nothing but a lie, leaving you the minute you stepped through the threshold shouting that they'd return shortly. You didn't expect any less honestly, Annika only wanted to come here for the possibility of hooking up and Nikki was more interested in the arrival of her possible new girlfriend Val.

You always found something to do whether it was people watching or drinking until your vision began to blur. Tonight was different however, being the designated driver you were banned from drinking any alcohol and people watching was only fun for the first forty five hours.

Now you sit playing on your phone, scrolling through every app on your phone until your friends finally arrived. You continue to look at the bright screen in your hands reading through old notes that you had yet to delete, too engrossed by the amount of grocery lists to realize that half of the group left the circle.

"You know this is a party, right?" A gruff voice asks.

Lifting your head slightly, you look up from under your eyelashes to the man across from you, scowl written on your lips. The orange glow highlights him in the best of ways, making him even more alluring.

Brown curls fall from the the bun that sits on top of his head, framing his face so beautifully. His lips pull into a smirk, making the deep crevice of his dimples pop out. Big doe eyes sparkle at you, glimmering in the heat of the flames.

His outfit is basic, a band tee with a faded logo, showing off how well loved it was. The holes in his black skinny jeans show off the tiniest hint of black ink that hides beneath the fabric. The fire and moon fight over the rings that sit on his hands, both going back and forth on which one glints in the silver. A loose cigarette sits tucked behind his ear and a sweating bottle of beer rests in his strong hands.

He's captivating, alluring you like the serpent did Eve. You don't engage, promptly scoffing and then rolling your eyes back down to your phone.

"You know my uncle always said if you roll them hard enough, they'll get stuck."

You hear it before you see it, the grin that sits on his face. It adds gasoline to the already burning inferno that rests inside of you adding turbulence, causing roaring flames.

"Good, hope they do." It's bitchy, ice cold like a winter's breeze. Instead of hurling an insult that you, he laughs. A true genuine laugh that you'd compliment if it weren't for the anger pumping through you.

Shutting your phone off, you drop it into your lap and cross your arms over your chest. Sighing loudly, you look at the curly haired man across from you unimpressed, eyebrow arching sharply.

He takes your challenge of a stare down, watching you over the glass of his beer bottle as he puts it to his lips taking a swig. His gaze in unfaltering but yours isn't. It's not your fault though, not when his neck looks so delicious as he swallows every last drop.

Removing the bottle from his mouth, he catches you eyeing the plump of his lips. Even though you've been caught, your stare doesn't waver, only moving the line of your sight back up to his eyes.

"Ya know, it's not really nice to be mean to your friend." His statement causes another eye roll from you, another loud scoff pulling from your throat.

"You're not my friend," Your words swim with annoyance and it only fuels the man in front of you even more.

Gasping loudly, a ringed hand clutches his chest as if he'd been insulted to the fullest. "I'm not you're friend? I thought the warmth of the fire cemented our relationship."

He curls his lips inwards, biting back a laugh that threatens to sneak it's way out. You're not any better, your bottom lip stinging with the pressure of your teeth that sink into it.

Silences covers the two of you, begging for one of you to break first. Although you put up the toughest of fights, you're the first to lose, a small giggle escaping the lock on your lips. The man isn't far behind you, snorting loudly into the quiet night air.

"First of all, I don't even know your name." You counter, mentally berating yourself for letting a laugh squeak out.

"Oh, you need my name?" He asks, eyebrows raising curiously.

Your eyes squint at the absurdness of his question, "Yeah, that's how making friends works, genius."

Batting his eyelashes, he waves a hand at you in flattery. "I love it when you call me sweet names."

His voice is flirty teasing you to the fullest and if you don't do something fast you're going to melt, and not because the heat of the flames.

"That's my cue to leave." Pushing yourself halfway up from the chair, you're immediately stopped by his arm waving you to stop.

"No, no I quit, I promise." It's said between breathless laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he does.

Smirking ever so slightly, you bask in the sound of his voice. Sitting down slowly, you sigh as if you'd rather not be here regardless of the growing smile tugging at your lips.

Once sat back in your seat, you wait with a tapping foot and crossed arms, trying your hardest to look annoyed. He looks at you smugly, like he's enjoying the little performance you put on.

"If I tell you my name, you gotta tell me yours." He demands, you don't respond just pulling your hand out to inspect the acrylics that rest on your hand.

"I'm Eddie." He beams at you, rolling his tongue over his bottom lip.

You purse your lips, looking him up and down as if you're bored. When you give him your name, he nods slowly and repeats it like it's the prettiest thing he's heard.

"Well there you go, now we're friends." The depth of his voice makes the beat of your heart skip, cheeks burning the more you get flustered.

Shaking it off, you give him a look that the kind that reads "really?", and he only answers by returning a look that says "of course". Sucking your teeth, you look down at the blue fabric of your jeans.

"We can't be friends if we don't even hang out." It's shy, your confidence subsiding harshly under the heat of his eyes.

Now he scoffs, shaking his head back and forth causing the loose curls to move with him. "Don't do me like that, Pookie. Just gimme your number and I'll hang out any time your little heart desires."

"You did not just call me fucking Pookie." You laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach.

You don't see him but Eddie just looks at you like you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, adoration swimming in the dark color of his eyes.

When your laughter ceases and you fall back into your normal position, you open your eyes to see him looking at you. For the first time in your life you finally see what it's like to be looked at as if you hung the stars in their place. It feels good, heart racing and air catching in the back of your throat.

Blinking out of your trance, you nod shakily. "Umm, you said something about my ugh number?"

Eddie reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone and tapping in the code to unlock it. Handing it over to you wordlessly, it's already open to the new contact screen where you punch in the ten digit number. You ponder for a moment before typing in a name, flicking back and forth between the options you have, until you ultimately adding it under your given nickname with a black heart.

Handing it back to him, he looks at it smirking and then puts it back into its rightful home of his pocket. Opening his mouth to say something Eddie is interrupted with the sound of the backdoor opening and the rush of the music inside pouring from the doorway.

"Hey, we've been looking for you!" Annika shouts, stumbling towards you on unsteady feet.

Looking at the clearly tipsy girl, you turn back around to see give a sympathetic look to Eddie, quietly apologizing for your drunken friend.

"I guess that's my que to go." You shrug, moving from your spot on the chair.

Eddie only looks at you tenderly, dimples on full display for you. "Go ahead, Pookie. I'll see you later."

Sending you off with a wink, you walk away from the sanctuary you found. Walking over to your friend, you can't help but look back at the pretty boy you met finding him already smiling back at you.

Threading your arm in your friend's, you allow her to put her weight onto you so she doesn't fall. Unfocused eyes scan to where you keep looking, squinting to find the person.

"Who's that?" She keeps squinting, trying hard to see the man's features.

When her eyes seem to make out what she looks like, she perks up with a dopey smile. "Oh my fucking gawd, he's hot."

Saying it a little too loudly, you instantly clap your hand over her mouth and look back to make sure Eddie hasn't heard. You find him shaking his head, shoulders shaking with a clear laugh as he lights the cigarette that hangs between his teeth.

"Hope you got his number, would be a shot missed if you didn't." She chastises once you remove your palm from her lips. You sigh loudly and pull her along and make your way into the house.

Eddie kept his promise, using all his free time over the summer to see you. It started off innocently enough, late night drives down to the lake, midafternoon hangouts in the Dairy Queen parking lot where you’d sit in the bed of his beat up truck, and hanging out in his apartment watching him play video games.

Friends, that’s all it was in the beginning. Two people opening up to one another, bonding over their shitty childhoods and laughing at jokes that no one else ever understood.

As the heat of the roaring sun became more intense, so did the relationship between the two of you. Touches became lingering like the tickle of the tall overgrown grass by the lake. Kisses were light and airy, reminiscent of the lightning bugs that flew around in the dark summer sky. Eddie’s scent lingered with you even after you’d gone home, similar to sunscreen.

Tangled sheets and messy hair, flustered cheeks and dopey smiles. The two of you shined so bright even the stars that hung from the dark blue night were jealous.

But when the sunsets came sooner and sooner, so did the end of your fairytale. Calls became unanswered, hangouts were no more, and hand holding became totally off limits. What was once warm and sickly sweet smiles, was now cold shoulders and icy attitudes.

You felt stupid, falling for someone that wasn’t even yours. Giving Eddie your heart on a platter when he never even asked. When this all started you knew what it was, signing your soul over to the devil using your blood as ink.

The risks were in plain sight, the rules agreed on with the locking of pinkies, and yet you still broke them. Eddie told you over and over again this wasn’t anything other than some fun, a way to pass the boring summer days faster.

And although it hurt, you still plunged the sword deeper and deeper. What is love without some loss?

The mahogany teakwood candles that burns on the top of your dresser does nothing to get rid of the smell that you and Eddie have created. Notes of dark oat and frosted lavender are being drowned out by sweat and sex.

Cotton sheets soak up the perpetration, the outline of his body imprinted to remind you that he was once there, the only lingering memory of him when he inevitably leaves. Cheeks flushed with red, screaming claw marks on alabaster skin, and bruises in the shape of teeth.

"Fuck, squeezin' me s'good, baby." Eddie's all gritted teeth and panting breath as he wiggles around underneath you.

The ache in your knees is no match for the burn you feel in the pit of your stomach, your hole clenching around the thickness of his cock. Switching between bouncing and rocking your hips, you're hurdling closer and closer to the edge.

Sentences aren't even forming in your brain, only random blabbering falls from your lips in loud whines with the way he punches into your cervix.

"S'good, shit you feel so good." It comes out like a sob, ripped right out from the depths of your soul.

Big strong hands grip at the plush of your hips, finger prints threatening to leave a mark for the next day. A wicked grin forms on red kiss bitten lips, basking in the glory of you crumbling on top of him.

"Yeah? Is it good, princess?" Arrogant and cocky, two traits that only he can pull off without it being a turn off.

Your head wildly bobs, drool escaping from your parted lips. "Uh huh," the only real response you can give him in this very moment and it's all he needs to know he's fucked you dumb beyond repair.

Bending his knees, Eddie starts to fuck up into you with unwavering force. The thatch of course hair that sits at the base of his cock catches deliciously on your swollen and neglected clit, resulting in harsh mewl.

With your own eyes screwed shut you don't see that his have rolled into the back of his head, jaw unhinged with the pleasure of you clasping around him tightly. Regardless of his own peak nearing, Eddie continues to keep up with his facade, making sure you finish way before he does.

"I'm so deep huh? S'deep, shit- so deep in this tight f-uhh, fucking cunt." Teeth bite down on the fat of his bottom lip, holding the whimpers from escaping from his mouth.

The speed of his movements, the loud squelch of your juices, and the intensity of him hitting into your g-spot is enough to make your head dizzy. He's everywhere, his touch, his scent, his voice. He's everywhere, all around you and you don't think that anything else in the world could create the same euphoric feeling he does.

"M'gonna-, ah I'm gonna cum." The end is closing in on you, the wave of ecstasy crashing into the shore. Although it feels so good crossing the finish line, you know when it's over he'll be gone all too soon.

"Me too, sweetheart. Motherfuck-, cum for me." The act that he had put on has finally faltered, cracking right at the seams.

That does it, pushes you right off the edge into the blissful waters of your high. Your already weakening knees have now failed you, letting you drop onto the slick soaked skin of Eddie's tattooed chest.

The two of you continue to whimper and moan as your highs ripple through you. Both of you create lightning, a pair of super bolts roar in the middle of your quiet bedroom. In the heat of your bliss, you're completely ignorant to the consequences of such strong power being created. No matter what the outcome is, at least it was beautiful and for the smallest of moments, it was real.

After the glory has finally wore off you remove yourself from him, letting out a strong hiss when the feeling of him is completely out of you. Letting your body fall to the plushness of your mattress, you allow yourself to cycle through the memory of it all.

Naked chests heave, a silence pulling over both of you like a heavy quilt in the winter. It's comfortable like this, the heat radiating off of your skin mixes with Eddie's, the pumping of hearts syncing into the same rhythm pattern.

While your body settles into the softness of your bed, Eddie's is quick to jump up from his spot with a loud grunt. Fresh red marks flash at you, decorating the smooth skin of his back along with the pretty freckles you used to trace with the soft flesh of your finger tips.

As he sits on the side of your bed catching his breath, you wonder if he misses the feeling of your touch the way you miss his skin. You wonder if he misses the intensity of your body next to his, arms and legs tangled together buried underneath the shelter of his comforter. You wonder if his bed misses the shape of your body the way yours misses his.

The springs of your mattress groan when the weight of his body leaves and for a moment you feel the same way. Footsteps are muted by the fibers of your carpeting. You watch from your spot as Eddie grabs a tissue from your vanity, wiping himself free of any evidence of you and then disposing it into the garbage can with a careless toss.

Muscles flex as he begins to redress himself, hiding the masterpiece that you left on his skin. You hope that they sting when he's under the heated water of his shower, a pang that will go away within a few days while the pang of your hurt will last a lifetime.

His messy curls pull from the neck of his shirt, shaking with the motions of his head trying to get rid of the unruly hair that masks his vision. From the singular foot away that the two of you stand, you pray that he won't leave, that this isn't the end.

"Do you wanna stay? W-we could watch a movie or something." Behind the sincerity of your voice is a girl that mourns the loss of her once best friend, begging him to remember what the two of you had in the beginning.

The clang of his belt ricochets through the room, an uncomfortable hallow sound that you wish to forget. Spinning on the socked heel of his foot, he gives you a blank face. One so devoid of emotion, cold and vacant.

"Don't start doin' this, Pookie. You already know what this is." A clear warning given with a strict tone.

The nickname that used to cause butterflies only brings mountains of sadness. It used to have meaning, a funny inside joke between the two of you now dwindled down to the name of a place holder.

"I just thought-" Going unfinished by the sound of Eddie's deep sigh.

"Not tonight, kay?" He says as nicely enough to placate you and even though you know nothing will come from it, you're still full of hope.

Bending down, he begins to slide his feet into his shoes, the same one's you gifted to him only so many months ago. Watching him tie the browning shoelaces of his vans, you wonder if he remembers the way you smiled while handing him the box, or how he felt when you said you got them just because.

It tugs at your already bandaged heart, the sticky adhesive of band aids doing their absolute best to keep the muscle intact. The rattle of the remaining broken pieces rattle in your ears, muffling everything else around you.

The lanky man stands to full height, grabbing his beloved leather jacket from your floor where it was left in the tornado of excitement. Rounding the end of your bed he makes his way to you, standing over your still naked body.

Bending at the waist, Eddie places a wet kiss on your forehead and pulls away with charming smile.

"I'll text you, pook."

You nod at his words, gripping on tightly to the faith that this whole thing will work out the way you hope. Giving you a wink, Eddie quickly exists your room and just like that you crumble.

On the wet sheets of your bed you curl into yourself, naked and vulnerable in more ways than one. Tears leak from your eyes and sobs rip from the depths of your stomach. It hurts watching him walk out because you never know when it'll be the last time.

You try to think back to when everything changed, where it all went wrong. All of the flashbacks and memories flood your brain, a film wheel of all the happy moments. More tears flow, a nonstop river of all the heartache.

You miss him, what your friendship used to be. At this point you don't even care if he loves you the way you love him, you just want him to care for you like he did all those months ago.

You wish you could go back to that warm summer day where you handed over your heart and let him carve his name in it, so that no matter what you did you'd belong to him for the rest of your days.

thank you all for reading!! i hope you guys like part one :)

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #still adore you

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