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#maybe you get one right (a quick death)
deathdxnces · 10 months
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i'm all for women committing unspeakable acts of violence. but i also like my head where it is thank you very much.
— @axewhirl
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sadly for you, that's not your choice ♡
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osaemu · 6 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ BEGINNER'S LUCK ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you beat him at his own game on livestream, and it's your first time playing
contents: fem!reader. gojo gets slandered by everyone </3 but he slanders toji. again. vague descriptions of what game you guys are playing, imagine whichever game u want.
author's note: thinkin' about making streamer!gojo a series, stay tuned ...
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"so you're gonna want to click that when someone attacks you," satoru informs you, hand on your shoulder. his chin rests on the top of your head as he watches you learn the in's and out's of some game he's well-known for streaming. "no, not that one, silly. the other one."
you groan and make a face at the screen in exasperation. "why do all the buttons look the same?" you grumble, drumming your fingers on the table next to his luminescent keyboard. "you better go easy on me when we go live."
satoru laughs and kisses the top of your head before strolling over to his own plush seat next to you. "don't worry, sweetheart. i will, i promise."
a couple minutes later, satoru starts chatting with his thousands of viewers as you puzzle over how to join his co-op lobby. 
toji-fushiguro: is your gf gonna join? ;)
you hear satoru scoff and see him lean closer to the monitor, squinting at the message that mentions you. "i remember you," satoru huffs, white hair falling into his eyes. "you better stop bringing her up or i'll block you, fishface."
a small laugh bubbles out of your lips as satoru continues addressing the flood of comments asking about you. in his last stream, he had mentioned thinking about teaching you to play the game he got famous for, and his viewers reacted more than enthusiastically. "wow, you guys really want to see me win against my own girlfriend?" satoru tsks, wagging his finger at the screen. "nah, i promised i'd go easy on her. i like her more than you faceless strangers on the internet. i'm looking at you, toji."
"satoru?" you whisper, scrunching up your nose when he immediately turns to you, all thoughts of publicly humiliating toji set aside. "how do i... join a co-op session?"
your boyfriend grins and leans over, clicking a couple buttons in too fast of a sequence for you to follow, and soon enough, your avatar stands next to satoru's. "there!"
"thanks," you huff, watching him slide back into his chair and banter with a couple more comments. and moments later, the game starts. satoru starts out with a play-by-play of his actions, making it really easy for you to piece together the strategy and techniques of the game. to your surprise, you don't die that easily — in fact, you eliminate five other players before retreating to the top of a tree to hide.
a couple kills later, you and satoru are some of the last people on the map. satoru makes quick work of the leftovers before stretching his arms and grinning smugly. "looks like i trained you well, darling," he calls, briefly turning to you and blowing a kiss. "now, where are you? come out and let me catch you, baby."
you hum in response, not bothering to come down from your tree. thankfully, the leaves are thick enough to obscure your avatar from satoru's view, and he walks right past you without even bothering to check. you grin and lean in closer to the computer, aiming at his blissfully unaware avatar and—
"what the fuck?" satoru yelps when his avatar crumbles to the ground. a message noting his death appears on his screen, and he turns to you immediately, betrayal evident on his shocked expression. "you shot me in the back!" he whines, getting up and looking at your screen in disbelief. "how could you?!"
you stick your tongue out at him smugly. "i win!" you cheer, and satoru splutters in disbelief, stumbling over his words as he watches you reap the rewards of your win. "i can't believe you lost to a beginner," you muse, rubbing in your victory. "maybe i should take over your stream," you continue, fluttering your eyelashes at satoru as he gapes at your screen.
"it's only 'cause i went easy on you!" satoru huffs, walking back to his chair and requesting a rematch. "this time, i won't be so nice."
the next game, satoru doesn't say anything, ocean-blue eyes focused on his own screen. from the stream opened in the corner of your monitor, you see his comments blow up.
suguru-geto: wow you're really off your game today
inumaki: he just sucks wdym
toji-fushiguro: deserved 💯
you think about hiding in a tree again, but decide against it. satoru would probably expect you to repeat that strategy, and for all you know, he might have an item that could help him sneak up on you. so you run off to an area that's relatively flat and keep an eye out for other users. you eliminate two before you catch a glimpse of satoru in a tree, but just a second later, he vanishes. 
from the corner of your eye, you see satoru mouth "got you" to his screen, and just in time, you dodge an attack you wouldn't have seen otherwise. somehow, your finger slips, and you shoot without aim. and somehow, your aim was on-point — satoru's avatar falls to its knees once more, and satoru groans in defeat.
"why are you good at this?" satoru grumbles, jumping off his seat and strolling over to wear you sit with a cocky smile on your lips. he all but abandons his stream as he walks over and pokes you childishly. satoru watches you eliminate the last two users, and he scoffs at the emblem of victory that lights up your screen. he kisses you begrudgingly and mutters something about losing a bet, to which you kiss his nose affectionately.
"but really," satoru whines, plopping back down in his chair and swiveling it to face you. "how are you so good?! and shut up suguru," he snipes, leering at the chat. "i'm doing fine, she's just insane! and you too, inumaki. there's a reason all your fans are regulars on my stream! because you suck!" at that, you snicker, spinning around in your own chair and half-watching the chat blow up with more of his viewers' thoughts. 
inumaki: SHUT UP U JUST LOST TO A FIRST TIMER
megumi-fushiguro: real 
"oh, shut it, other-fushiguro," satoru scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the chatbox. "at least my hair doesn't look like how little kids draw grass."
you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the laugh threatening to slip out, but when satoru turns and pouts at you, you can't help it. he's so petty and stubborn, but his eyes soften when he sees how big your smile is. and, not to your surprise, he matches your grin with one of his own. satoru draws a heart in the air with both his index fingers and scrunches up his nose at you, and your heart melts.
"you're so stupid," you mumble, watching him kick his feet like an antsy five year-old. satoru opens his arms in response, and no more than two seconds pass before you're nestled in his lap. he's wearing a light blue hoodie and white sweats, and nothing could make you more comfortable than that in the world. you turn your head and make eye contact with satoru's camera, and smile at the flood of comments on how cute you two look together.
yuuji-itadori: awww its kinda cute
suguru-geto: sooo down bad tbh
toji-fushiguro: you gotta be f*cking kidding me
satoru kisses the side of your face while glaring at the screen, and eventually he presses his lips to your ear and whispers, "wanna end the stream? there's too many people watching and i wanna keep you all to myself."
"hehe, let's do it!"
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖
You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.
{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}
MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.
You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.
The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.
Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”
You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?
“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  
You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.
Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.
You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 
His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.
Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.
You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.
“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 
“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.
Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.
The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.
“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”
You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.
“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”
You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”
Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?
He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.
He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?
”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.
Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.
His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 
“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”
He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 
“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”
Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.
There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.
“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.
You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”
Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.
Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?
“I never got to thank you.”
His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”
You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”
“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.
“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”
Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”
No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”
Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.
“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.
Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 
Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.
If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 
He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 
He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.
Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.
When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 
“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.
“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 
You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”
“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”
“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”
“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”
“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”
“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”
“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”
“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”
Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”
Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.
You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”
His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 
“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”
Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.
Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you
Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 
You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 
That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.
The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.
What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?
The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 
He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”
“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”
You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”
Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”
Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 
“Why are you working?”
“Why are you swimming?”
“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.
Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”
You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.
“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”
“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”
Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”
You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.
His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.
When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.
You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 
Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 
Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…
You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.
“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 
“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”
“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.
“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.
With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”
Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”
Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”
You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?
He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”
“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?
“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.
On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”
Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 
You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.
Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.
Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.
Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”
You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.
Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.
A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.
“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”
He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”
You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”
“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”
Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.
Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 
You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 
He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”
“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”
Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”
Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”
You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”
“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”
Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.
“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.
“Why would I do that?”
Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”
“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”
Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”
You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”
“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”
“Angel!”
“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”
“ANGEL.”
He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”
Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”
Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”
“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.
He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 
You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am
.
Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.
“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”
Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”
“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”
Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”
You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.
He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 
Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”
“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.
 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.
You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.
You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.
“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.
Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”
You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”
He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.
“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.
Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 
The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”
A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 
“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.
Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”
A hum, “He was a bad man.”
His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?
You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”
“Who says he was bad?”
Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”
His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 
A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”
“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.
“I wanted something more… personal.”
Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.
“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.
“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”
“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.
He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”
A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.
“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”
How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”
“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.
You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”
He wasn’t an idiot. 
Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 
Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 
You chose to come back. 
Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 
“My little doe.”
You came home.
His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.
Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 
And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.
He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.
Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.
With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.
You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.
With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 
“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 
He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 
One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1
🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,
@luna-usagi-chan
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
2K notes · View notes
papercorgiworld · 3 months
Text
No girls, no fights, no smokes
The things Mattheo Riddle does for love
This is like Theo’s ‘Tutoring first years’ a request based on the scenarios from Pansy’s Interrogation.
If you want a little more context, you can read Pansy’s interrogation, but it’s not a must.
No warnings except maybe foul language, but mostly just fluff and a bit of angst.
Picture source: https://pin.it/4r1PsBsvn
Not proofread. Feedback is as always very welcome. Happy readings, my dears!
“Slughorn is too lenient with him, because Riddle suddenly decided to show up to class, he gets an assignment to improve his grade. Ridiculous.” Hermoine says and Ron raises his eyebrows. “Slytherin privileges.” Harry joins his friends in their judging. “Not just that, Slughorn is making the same mistake he made when he trusted his father and told him about the horcruxes instead of sending him straight to Azkaban.” The three of them are startled to hear Mattheo’s voice from behind them. “You want to say that to my face, Potter!” Harry curses himself, he really wasn’t looking for a fight.
The trio turns around to face Mattheo, but they all keep their mouths shut and surprisingly so does Mattheo. The rage in his eyes is undeniable, but he simply walks by giving the trio only a quick death glare. When the trio is sure Mattheo is out of earsight Ron is the first to speak up. “Odd.” Hermoine shakes her head. “Not as much as you would think.” Harry and Ron give their friend a questioning look. “I don’t know why but he’s been on his best behavior for the past weeks. When was the last time he punched or hexed someone?” No one can immediately come up with an answer, proving Hermoine’s point.
***
“Matt, that’s my jacket.” Theo drily states thinking Mattheo mistakenly took his, while Mattheo searches every pocket of Theo’s jacket. “I know, I’m stealing your cigarettes.” Mattheo mutters with clear frustration in his voice. “You lose your own?” Theo asks as he takes his cigarettes off the nightstand to offer one to Mattheo. “No, I quit a month ago, remember.” Theo thinks for a moment, eyebrows knit together. “I honestly thought that was a joke.” Mattheo just flings Theodore an agitated glare. “Look, Matt, you can’t quit smoking, fighting and fucking at the same time.” Mattheo doesn’t say a word and lights the cigarette, just as Enzo enters the room. “No smoking inside!” “Say that one more time and you’ll be the first I punch in two months.” Enzo stops in his tracks at Mattheo’s ice cold voice and looks over at Theo with raised eyebrows.
“So, if I’m correct, no sex or blowjobs for three months, no fights for two months and almost one month of no smoking.” Mattheo lets himself fall on his bed. “Theodore?” Mattheo asks calmly, making both Enzo and Theo hold their breath. “Shut up.” Enzo can’t help but laugh as Theo rolls his eyes. “Pansy and Blaise were right the other day weren’t they? You’re doing this to impress (y/n).” Mattheo forces his eyes shut. He can barely admit it to himself, leave alone to his friends, but it is true. He so desperately needs you to like him. You are always nice to him, but you rarely ever approach him and honestly he can’t blame you.
***
Transfigurations, that’s where Mattheo realized that you weren’t just nice on the eyes. Three months ago Mcgonagoll had assigned everyone new seats and Mattheo had ended up next to you. Suddenly you weren’t just a kind stranger anymore, you became the girl that he can so easily talk to and laugh with.
Mattheo smiles when he sees you’re the first in the classroom. “Eager to score points with professor Mcgonagoll.” You look up and instantly a little blush creeps up your face. “Apparently, I’m not the only one.” Mattheo avoids your eyes, but takes his seat next to you. “I’m not early for Mcgonagoll, trust me princess.” You stare at your book and press your lips into a line in an attempt to not look like a total love struck idiot. Mattheo glances over at you while reaching for his books. When he notices your cheeks redden his heart fills with joy.
A few more students enter the classroom, forcing you both out of your love bubble. You watch him out of the corner of your eyes, while you gather enough courage to talk to him about what you saw yesterday. You lean closer to him so you can talk without being overheard and Mattheo turns towards you. “I’m sorry about what Harry said yesterday. He’s an idiot sometimes.” Mattheo keeps his eyes focussed on you, but it takes all his effort to not get angry again especially now that he knows you heard what Harry said. “I want you to know that despite that they’re my friends, I really don’t think like they do.” You slowly move your hand to lay on top of his arm as a way of showing him you care and aren’t afraid.
Mattheo searches for words, but all his mind can think of is how badly he wants your arms around him and not just your hand on his arm. When he finally opens his mouth Mcgonagoll walks in and you pull your hand back and focus on her. Mattheo adores you quietly before quickly brushing his fingers against yours. You turn to look at him and he leans in. “I know you don’t judge like they do. Maybe you should hang out more with me, could be fun?” His sweet whisper and genuine smile have your cheeks redden again. You smile and nod, thus silently agreeing that you should most definitely hang out more with him.
You spent the afternoon studying with Mattheo and right before dinner you even spent some time with his friends. It made it obvious that there was something blooming between you two and when you finally said your goodbyes you walked away the happiest girl at Hogwarts, unable to hide that happy glow around you.
***
After you spent yesterday afternoon together, Mattheo hadn’t been able to talk to you. It was like your friends were purposely keeping you away from him or maybe you didn’t like spending time with him. Either way Mattheo’s mind was working on every possible worst case scenario. Part of him wanted to stop pursuing you, because getting attached and then losing you would be worse. Maybe that thought is why he couldn’t keep his cool this time. “Everyone knows his dad’s evil and insane, but I mean his mum must’ve been absolutely mental.” Mattheo clenches his jaw but decides to turn around and follow his friends to the great hall. “Why else would the whore fuck someone like Voldemort.” At those words Mattheo snaps, dropping his bag and taking a few long strides to tackle the asshole who was talking. “Didn’t you hear that you need to keep your mouth shut, ‘cause their son is equally insane.” His fist hits the guy right in the face, causing his nose to start bleeding. The second punch doesn’t come in as hard since Blaise already has a hold on Mattheo.
When Blaise puts some distance between Mattheo and the other guy, Mattheo takes a breath and looks away from the douchebag. Mattheo’s heart breaks when his eyes land on your horrified face. No need to worry about losing her anymore. You just lost her, well done. You watch his figure disappear in one of the hallways and make your way to the great hall for lunch. You feel miserable for not being with him. Even worse, you can’t spot him anywhere in the great hall. During transfigurations the chair next to you stays empty and it’s almost impossible for you to pay attention, but you try your best to make notes with the intention of giving them to Mattheo later.
No need to worry about losing her. You’ve already lost her, well done.
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***
The knock at the door of Mattheo’s dorm startles him mainly because he doesn’t hang out with the kind of people that knock. I’m either going to punch, smoke or fuck the idiot that’s come to bother me. He opens the door to see your flustered face, making him drop his attitude. “I first thought you were in the infirmary, but I’m glad to see you’re alright.” Mattheo nods still shocked to find you at his door. “You came to check on me?” For a moment you feel a bit like an obsessed person, showing up at his dorm without invitation, but then you remember your notes. “I also brought you these.” Mattheo laughs a moment and you look confused. “That’s sweet, thanks.” You feel awkward, but Mattheo notices. He clears his throat and opens the door a little more. “I’m really grateful for these, I just- my mind wasn’t thinking about class at all.” He signals you to come inside and you carefully take a few steps. “I honestly didn’t expect to ever see you outside of class again.” Mattheo admits, making your eyebrows knit together as you shake your head expressing confusion.
“The fight, earlier, I know you hate it, me.” You take a step towards Mattheo when you sense the vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t like it when you fight, but I do get that some people really deserve to get punched.” Mattheo stares at you trying to figure you out, but failing miserably. “I remember your face from a few months ago when I was fighting, I’ll never forget the disgust in your eyes and today again you looked horrified.” A soft chuckle escapes you as you feel the embarrassment boil up about what you’re going to confess. “I probably made that face, because I hate to see your pretty face all beat up. That’s why I was so relieved that you didn’t get hurt today.” At a terribly slow rate a bright cheeky smile creeps up on Mattheo’s face. You can’t help but feel like you’re dying of embarrassment as his face lights up at your confession. I’m such a love struck loser with my notes and petty excuses. He totally knows I’m in love with him. This is so embarrassing. You get pulled out of your train of thoughts when Mattheo’s hand reaches for the back of your head pulling you into an intense and loving kiss.
When he realises you really like him.
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2K notes · View notes
luveline · 2 months
Note
Hi honey! I hope you’re taking care of yourself ❤️ I love love LOVE how you write! Can I please request bombshell reader x Spencer telling the team she’s pregnant 💕
thank you for requesting! <3 fem, 2k
“Spencer?” 
Your quiet tone has his attention faster than any shouting would’ve; he expects high energy from you, and your murmur scares him half to death. He backtracks from the bathroom with his toothbrush still in his mouth, toothpaste dripping down his fingers as he yanks it out and asks, “What?” 
“Is this okay?” 
You chew your lip and turn to the side, illuminating your problem with a hand framed under your tummy. Your skin peeks out from the bottom of your shirt. 
The wonder of you is that you’ve always been beautiful, always, in Spencer’s eyes at least if not the entire world’s, because of how you present yourself, and of course because of your big heart. Your smile, the way you talk, all of it is beautiful and, most of the time, measured. Your clothes are carefully picked, and now you’re changing and your clothes need to change with it —your bump has appeared faster than Spencer realised it would, and you haven’t had time to upgrade your wardrobe. The cases are endless and you’d been more interested in doctor’s appointments and house viewings than clothes shopping.  
“What’s wrong?” he asks, perhaps a bit useless, white frothy paste sliding down his chin. 
You smile momentarily, nervous on your feet as you adjust your shirt. “I think I look very pregnant.” 
Spencer goes back into the bathroom to finish brushing.  “You look mildly pregnant,” he agrees loudly over the rush faucet. He spits, wipes his face, and rinses his toothbrush. 
“Compared to my usual non-pregnant look, I mean,” you say. 
“It’s just that shirt’s a little tight,” he promises. “We’ll find something.” 
You probably aren’t going to find something, you both realise. You stand in front of him in one of your soft bralettes, the ‘S’ of your pendant on your rising chest, shirtless and likely to stay that way. “Oh,” he says, tapping your bump gently with his knuckle. “Maybe it got bigger overnight.” 
“I think so,” you agree, taking his hand where it hovers to press to the top of the slope of the bump. You’re holding his hand more than you’re protecting the bump, a perplexed frown on your lips as you kneed his fingers in yours. 
“We don’t have time to go to the store, but we could be late,” he says. 
“What if we have a case?” 
“That’s a better reason to go shopping.” 
You pout for a kiss, leaning up to press your lips to his wry smile. “No. Do you still have that maroon sweater? The one that didn’t fit you right, with the v-neck?” 
Spencer helps you into said sweater though you don’t need his assistance, smoothing down the wrinkles carefully. It hides the too-short hem of your white shirt underneath, and paired with the collar, Spencer couldn’t be more in love with you. “You’re dressed like me five years ago,” he says. 
“Like it?” you flirt, your cheeks apples with your smug smile, your hands under your chin.
“You really are glowing.” 
“Don’t tempt me into kissing you stupid,” you say, still flirting, voice dipping into that warm, sweet place that probably caused the bump between you in the first place. 
“You’re lucky I don’t kiss you stupid,” he jokes, putting an arm around you for a quick hug. “Too bad we need to work to save to buy a stupid house instead.” 
“Have a stupid baby,” you mumble happily, your face pressed to his chest. He kisses your cheek. 
You’re both in incredible moods when you finally make it to work, tethered together from the parking lot to the elevator to the BAU office. There’s been a lot more hand holding since you found out you were pregnant, though you’re trying to keep it private just a little bit longer. Hotch gets antsy about pregnant people in the field (though he’d never force you to stay home), and the others can tend to be overbearing. 
You are excited to tell them. Spencer’s your family, the team is as good as, and they’ll all be so, so happy for you. At first you’d been waiting for the twelve week milestone for practicality’s sake, but now you’re just waiting for the right time. 
“Clothes get lost in the move?” Morgan asks. 
You aren’t telling them about the pregnancy, but you’re honest about other things. They know you’ve moved in with Spencer, and that you’re looking for a house. Morgan would’ve been offended if you hadn’t told him. He’d offered up a bunch of his properties to you both for viewing and promised a very good family and friends price point, but they hadn’t been perfect enough. It’s just a starter house, he’d argued, mostly unoffended at your pickiness. 
He doesn’t realise that you and Spencer wanna raise a baby, and you want as perfect a home as possible for at least the toddler years before you start looking to move up the ladder. A family home. 
“Very funny,” you praise, letting Spencer pull back your chair for you as you sit down. You feel the new extra roundness of your bump and wonder why nobody else has noticed it either. Spencer certainly can’t stop looking at it. You catch him all the time, and at night, alone and in bed, you let him run his hand up and down the hill of it, clearly amazed. 
“It looks good on you, mama,” Morgan says. 
You laugh. “Doesn’t everything?” you ask with an exaggerated smirk. 
“Yes,” Spencer says. 
You dip your head back in your chair. “This is why I love you.” 
“Devotion,” Spencer guesses, wiping at a smudge of makeup under your eye tenderly. 
You put your hand on your stomach. It’s weird how things change and don’t at the same time. You feel like you love him so much more now you’re a family with him, but you loved him endlessly before. Moments like this were plentiful and warm as sunshine, the undulating care in his touch a practised exercise at this point. You let your eyes close. He strokes your cheek. 
“Hotch wants everyone in the conference room,” JJ says, announcing herself and her towering cup of coffee as she breezes past the bullpen. 
You follow her upstairs to the conference room. Rossi, Hotch and Penelope are already waiting, everyone accompanied by their own creature comfort (coffee, coffee, and tea, respectfully). You and Spencer take seats opposite Hotch and Rossi, hands held together as always, his left in your right, his thumb kind against your knuckles. 
“The jet is still pre-loading from last time, so we can’t leave until late tonight, but we will be leaving,” Hotch begins, nodding at Penelope. “Until then, we’ll work the case from here.”
She nods back and clicks onto some severely disgusting photographs. 
You work through the facts together. Emily arrives late with apologies soon forgiven, your team a well-oiled machine. Of course, without being there, there’s only so much you can do, but it’s never not useful to have these discussions and to spitball with one another. 
Spencer gets stuck in his head. You fight the urge to kiss his cheek as he’d kissed yours this morning and decide on a more work appropriate show of affection, popping down to the kitchenette to make him a cup of coffee. 
You aren’t drinking coffee or anything caffeinated for the baby. You aren’t thirsty, but Spencer will worry if you don’t make yourself a drink too. You fill a glass with water from the sink and make your way back up the steps to the conference room. 
“It looks like there’s a racial motivation,” Spencer’s saying to Morgan. 
“Sure, but with only two victims so far, it could be coincidence,” Emily says. 
“Or not,” JJ says with a frown. 
“I think our killer would show it more, if it were,” you suggest, “there’s usually some aspect of overkill with hate crimes we aren’t seeing here.” 
You put the cup of coffee down in front of Spencer and sit in your chair. The sleeves on his sweater are too long. You push them up for the tenth time. 
“That’s Spencer’s?” Emily asks, having noticed your struggle.
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been sort of scatterbrained, I forgot to put a load in the dryer.” 
“Is your go bag ready?” Hotch asks. 
No. “Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t like my new look?” 
“I’ve never known you to wear clothes that don’t fit,” Morgan says.
“What are you trying to say, Derek?” you ask, propping your face in your chin. 
“You’re getting sloppy in your old age.” 
You turn to Spencer, beaming, and he shakes his head at you immediately. 
“And what’s with the water?”
Your smiling turns deer-in-the-headlights. “What?” 
“You don’t drink coffee anymore?” Morgan prompts. 
That piques the interest of Emily and Hotch simultaneously, but you know you’re caught when realisation colours JJ’s gaze. She stares straight at your glass, then your face. You can practically see her profiling your behaviour these last few weeks, the sudden trips to the bathroom, the worse than usual reluctance to be away from Spencer, and the sudden propensity for safer practice in the field. 
You smile. You’re caught. You see Hotch’s expression and know he knows it, too. 
You give Spencer a little nudge with your thigh, as though telling him, You say it. You know he wants to. 
“You can’t have more than three hundred milligrams of caffeine when you’re pregnant,” Spencer says, his pride unmissable in the slight lift of his chin, “it disrupts midterm foetal growth. Our baby might come out too small, which isn’t what we want, obviously, so she can’t drink coffee. Not for another six months, at least.” 
“Wha– wha– what?” Penelope asks, the physical manifestation of a kettle about to boil over, excitement bubbling and raring to explode as she grips the table. “You’re pregnant?” 
“With Spencer?” Emily asks, though she’s laughing before she’s finished. 
You frame his cheek with one hand and lean in to kiss it gently. “Who else?” you ask. 
The best part is watching everybody hug Spencer. You’re happy they love you and you accept their congratulations and their love with pleasure, but seeing a room full of people thrilled for him finally getting the life he’s wanted, and knowing you’re at least part of the reason, is pretty sweet. You put your hand on your baby bump and take a mental picture of him under Morgan’s arm, his cheeks pink, his smile achingly wide. 
Still, he cuts through his moment to reach for you. “Maybe someone else will be able to convince you to slow down,” he says, hand moving to your stomach protectively. 
You pretend to think it over. “Maybe in a month or two.” 
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Jealous Nott
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Summary: Y/n is being hit on by Fred and George and it gets Theodore pissed, ~and jealous.
He was sure why he was fuming. You were on the other side of the room getting hit on by the comedic duo, usually he liked them. They were funny as hell but right now as they made you laugh he wanted to shove their jokes up their asses.
"Teds, ya steaming at the ear mate," Matteo remarked, he had never seen Theodore so worked up over someone. He followed his line of sight and burst out laughing, making Theodore send him a glare. "Bloody hell, over y/n"
"They're hitting on her, is she gonna fuck the both of them," His eyes were were boring holed at the twins. His jaw clenched when he noticed how close they'd gotten to her.
"She's a free bird y'know unless you go get her cause Fred's pulling his signature pick up, with the ring-" Theo was already out of his seat. In quick strides he crossed the room, he snaked his hand around her.
Due to the height difference he bent down and put his neck into the crook of her neck.
"Hey boys, why don't you go blow up a bath yeah?" Fred and George both raised their hands in mock surrender, they knew a lost battle when they saw one.
"Got it," George started
"We reckon we can get a couple out," Fred finished as he winked at y/n. "If you ever get tired of this Joker y'know where to find us," before they both left leaving y/n with Theo.
"What are you doing, I was about to get laid," y/n joked.
"Were you gonna fuck the both of em!?"
"Maybe," she smirked. "I do have two holes,"
Theodore's eye brows rose. "Interesting,"
"Theo I'm wanking, what's up?" He noticed how she leant into him.
"I-" he hadn't thought about what he was gonna do once he drove those Weasley boys out. "Well I-"
"Do not tell me the great snarky sarcastic, Theodore Graham Nott, has gone speechless?" He noticed how her eyes glittered as she smiled. The stars were in her eyes.
"It's not Graham luv," He chided.
"I said it's Graham so it's Graham," She said leaving no room for argument.
"Yes Ma'am," Deep down he knew if she asked him to change his name, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
"You're hot when you're jealous," Theodore nearly missed the sentence.
"One, I'm not jealous. Two." He said bringing her closer. "You think I'm hot?" He mumbles into her neck.
"I've always thought you're hot," she whispered back. He chuckled into her neck sending shivers up her spine. She traced his bicep through his uniform.
"Really," Her lips looked so kissable.
"Yeah"
"I want to kiss you so badly luv,"
"Then do it you wanker,"
Theodore crashed his lips to hers, trying to memorize every curve of her mouth, his hand moved from her waist to her hips then back again. He fought the urge to grab her ass.
After a beat he moved his head back an inch.
"You'll be the fucking death of me," he whispered agsinst her lips dropping the lightest kisses on her face from her cheeks to her forehead.
"I should say the same about you, I could fucking feel your cigarettes," he laughed. He loved the girl and he was going to fucking keep her
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ioniiaa · 3 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 9)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
Part 9:
Just as you exited the door to your now former apartment, you heard the sound of an explosion.
You just sigh at the sound, it doesn't phase you as much as it used to. Always startling enough to make you slightly jump, but you knew it was the start of the turf war one of your acquaintances told you about ahead of time.
It was a favor they owed you after you saved them from being killed by the Overlord boss they work for, which happened to be the one you were being commissioned by back then.
To take advantage of their insider info/tip, you decided it was needed to pick up the pace so you could get out of there in one piece- so their risk of getting that info to you wouldn't be in vain.
The pace at which the explosions happened quickly increased, along with the sounds of bullets and glass breaking that joined the chorus of chaos.
"Shit, shit, shit shit!" you quietly cursed to yourself as you quickly exited the building however you could, because you could feel the foundation and walls starting to give way.
So naturally, the easier and quickest way out was through a window in the stairwell. Unfortunately, you were up quite a few flights and though you tried your best to roll and fall safely, you still landed on the ground with an unceremonious thump.
The shattered glass underneath you from the window gave you a lot of ugly cuts. Not to mention you could already feel many bruises forming all over your body, maybe you broke a rib or two, you couldn't tell. It's been a while since you've had to make such a messy escape- that was probably a couple decades and rings ago.
Pulling yourself up from the ground, you wince through the pain and make a quick dash to grab your briefcase of supplies that went flying during the fall.
You couldn't really hear too well right now because of all of the warfare going on, everything sounded so muffled, so you couldn't tell what direction the danger was. But you knew you had to run, or else you would get into even deeper shit.
You were a woman on a mission, so you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, ducking, dodging, weaving, sneaking, and even having to get rid of a few goons yourself along the way to where you'd be able to enter the Pride ring.
It was quiet here, the sounds of warfare and screams of the damned were muffled from all the way out here at the edge of this ring of Hell. And it wasn't muffled because of your hearing, your hearing went back to normal after spending a few minutes in some quiet corner to regroup yourself after the hellish way here.
It was here, you decided, that you'd make your way into the Pride ring using your special power.
Your real power wasn't to make enchanting paintings or portraits, that was just skill you've honed after many years of life (and death).
But this...it made you nervous, even though the power was truly your's, you were nervous because you felt like you'd get caught breaking the laws of how Hell is supposed to function- like fundamentally. Sinners like you weren't supposed to be able to travel freely through Hell, but for some reason, you could with this power.
You took some supplies out of your briefcase, and drew a complex crest-like symbol on the ground in front of you.
Ever since you landed in Hell, this symbol felt like it was etched into the back of your eyelids. You always felt like it defined you, the essence of you, and that held power- the type and magnitude you still weren't totally sure of. You never had any close connection you trusted enough to teach or help guide you through any of this...
With a deep sigh, being careful not to agitate any broken ribs or bones, you knelt down in front of the symbol, placed both hands on the symbol of the ground, and closed your eyes.
You focused your energy into your hands, feeling power surge through you until your felt your hands disappear into the ground- your body following right after.
The one downside to this power, spell, ability- whatever you want to call it- was that you couldn't really control where you landed.
After much trial and error, you've honed it to the point where you could go from one ring to the other, but you couldn't really pick where you got dropped in the specific ring you wanted to go to.
Not to mention it drained so much of your energy, it made you so extremely weak to the point that almost any weakling that came across you could nudge you with their foot and you'd be near double death already.
All that said, you wanted to avoid using this power at all costs unless it was an emergency. So unfortunately your search for your love Alastor was hindered greatly by this caveat- you had to stay "alive" if you wanted to be reunited.
Too many attempts before you mastered this power would likely end in your (permanent?) death if you were found that weak and vulnerable so many times by who knows what type of demented soul that would witness your sorry state after you used the power.
And once more today did you fall to the ground with a thump, though a very small distance this time that was fortunately cushion.. by... garbage in a dumpster...
"This falling shit is getting really old..." You thought to yourself.
"Ugh shit..." You slowly roll out of the dumpster, your briefcase appearing by your side with a tiny *poof*.
As you lean against an alleyway wall, it hits you like a truck- the price you pay for defying the laws of Hell. The previous injuries from escaping the turf war made this time hit so much worse than any other previous time.
You accidentally stumble forward from the wave of pain that slammed you suddenly, vision blurring, energy fading fast enough to the point where you're just about to pass out at any given moment. But you try to hang in there as you attempt to refocus your vision.
Your stumbling around likely looked like you were a drunkard making an idiot of themselves after a bar fight.
As you kept accidentally bumping into random strangers that you could hardly see due to your blurry vision, you kept getting shoved around by people thinking you were being a public nuisance- and that says a lot, given you're in Hell and all.
All the shoving and little jabs from random strangers hurt so fucking much, that your body gave out, you couldn't keep it together any longer.
You couldn't get yourself together this time.
Your vision turned sideways as you fell to the ground, except you didn't hit the hard and unforgiving concrete.
You felt a pair of arms catch you. All you could see was a girl's face talking at you, but you couldn't hear a goddamned thing. Hell, you could hardly see her even though she was right up in your face.
"Oh my gosh, are you okay? Do you need help? Oh my god, Vaggie, we need to help them!"
"Charlie, are you sure about this? They could be dangerous! You don't even KNOW them!"
Then everything went black.
"But I can't leave them to die here, we need to bring them back to the hotel!"
"Ugh, alright, fine! But if they pose a danger to you or anyone else in the hotel, they are OUT."
-> Part 10
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01zfan · 3 months
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twelve grapes | l. at
bestfriend!anton x reader | 4.5k words
this put me in an anton mood unfortunately
contains: best friends to lovers, new years eve traditions, missionary, love confessions
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“it’s me.” you said to the door.
you didn’t even have to knock before the door was opened. you were greeted with a smiling anton. you smiled back, looking down at the ground for a moment.
“come in.” anton whispered, opening his door wider for you.
you walk in but anton left the door open. you saw that on his bed there was a child sleeping. it was usually like this at your joint family parties. one room would become the unofficial coatcheck and the other would be the designated room for sleeping babies. anton’s room was always the place of choice for babies to lay their heads down. he had a way with kids, they gravitated towards him and they always took a liking to his soft voice. his height was an advantage too, kids enjoyed climbing him and being on his shoulders as he walked through the house.
“one second. i’m gonna put him in the room down the hall.” anton said and he lumbered onto the bed.
you stayed in his room while anton carefully scooped the sleeping child into his arms to take them into a separate room. when he returned he closed the door behind him. you two stayed there for a moment, just looking at one another. 
everyone in your life started to notice the looks. they’d bump your shoulders while mentioning the stutter anton would have or how light and airy your voice would get. you weren’t sure if these statements had any validity. there were always comments about you and anton’s relationship. you two were kids, growing up together because your parents were close friends. you remember as a child anton’s parents jokingly saying you two have to get married so your two families would finally be related. you made a sour face and so did anton. at your age, boys were yucky and to anton, so were girls. you both decided you didn’t like each other like that when you kissed on the playground underneath the jungle gym. it was a quick peck, you both pulling away and shaking your heads. you two were still close, becoming your own people up side by side. you both went through so much change growing up but being by the others side remained the same.
lately though, there was something in the air. maybe it was the holidays and your weariness that came with the cold weather. but the way anton would look at you recently made you bashful, always compelled to look away or brush hair behind your ear. anton turned into a charming and handsome young man right in front of your eyes. he still kept the same soft voice and kindness you had as children, something you admired. you wanted to ignore the feelings but the way he would compliment you started making you sheepish. when something looked particularly good on him you would feel hot in the face, embarrassed for no reason. you found yourself sometimes thinking back to that kiss on the playground. when you were kids you guys simply just went back to playing, never bringing it up again. if that happened now, you believe that your body would burst into flames.
seeing both your families look at you knowingly validated your feelings, but regardless it was prying. you also didn’t want the comments to get to your head or ruin what you and anton had. it was special having someone in your life understand you the way anton did. you didn’t want to lose it, which is why you were happy you and anton were away from your two families as the party went on downstairs.
without prying eyes and knowing glances, it was very comfortable. conversation with anton had always flowed easily, both of you having similar senses of humor. occasionally during a joke you would hit his solid arm lightly, or he would put his hand on your thigh. it would linger there for a second before he would pull it away. feelings you had to beat to death with a stick stirred over your skin, but you were able to continue the conversations. before you knew it you guys talked half the night away.
sometime during the night, your family went home. something about an early morning the next day. you were able to convince them to let you stay under the guise of watching the ball drop, but what you really wanted was to be with anton. 
his parents were funny about the new year. every time they would rave about staying awake to watch the ball drop, being able to ease into the new year. what actually always ended up happening was that they would be knocked out on the couch watching the new years eve show. every year, anton would take a picture of his parents sleeping into the new year.
you and anton also almost missed the new year until he checked his phone.
“wow. time is flying.” anton said. 
you looked at the time. it was ten minutes until the new year.
“did you bring the grapes?” anton asks.
you smile at the mention of your silly little tradition. even though you and anton have never been to spain, every year you found yourselves crowded underneath a table on new years eating twelve grapes. it was believed to bring you good luck and good fortune, but you were never the type to believe in that type of stuff. each year though, you had anton by your side. you think that’s good fortune on its own. so you humored him each year—you supplied the grapes and he supplied the table.
“i left them downstairs in the fridge.” you said.
anton stood up his seat on the floor and you stood up from his bed. he went towards his bedroom door and you followed.
“let’s go get them. but be quiet so we don’t wake up my parents.” anton said, putting a finger to his lips.
the new years eve television special was blaring on the speakers, so loud you could’ve ran down the stairs at full speed and it wouldn’t down out the sound of the announcers on the screen. but you and anton loved tradition, so you snuck down the stairs the same way you did as children. anton leaned against his wall comically as he snuck down and you did the same.
you held hands often as children. it was always for reason, like if the other wasn’t moving fast enough or if you were scared. so when anton grabbed your hand for no reason as you snuck downstairs you thought you would stumble down the steps. but you let your hand rest inside of anton’s as you mirrored his footsteps so the stairs wouldn’t creak.
you guys successfully retrieved the grapes and two bowls, sneaking your way back upstairs. you didn’t let go of eachother’s hands once, not until anton led you underneath a table in his room. you both struggled to fit underneath the table, laughing at anton’s attempt to make his large body compact.
“i can’t believe we’ve been doing this since we were kids.” you say wistfully.
you open up the container of grapes in between the two of you. anton takes the time to inspect each grape before dropping it into your bowl, making sure it’s one of the firm and sweet ones. anton has always done this each year, while he just grabbed the first twelve for himself, not caring what they looked like.
“so much has changed since then, hasn’t it?” anton said lightly.
“we’re still the same.” you hum, nodding your head. 
it was hard to try and seem nonchalant sitting so close next to anton. even while he was sitting underneath the table he was taller than you, his head brushing the top of the table. you were light in the head being able to smell anton, to look at him so close. have his eyelashes always been this wispy? his cheeks looked so soft you were compelled to close what little space was left between the two of you to feel his skin. but you focused on grabbing the crispy and sweet grapes with a shaky hand.
anton was happy that you were enveloped in tasting the grapes. if you were focused on other things, he would have time to calm down his heart that was beating like a bird. he couldn’t even reach for his own grapes, too scared his shaking hand would give away the confession that was on his lips. each time you looked at him he was suddenly nervous. anton was already the shy type and the way you had him only made everything worse.
you both could hear the counting on the television upstairs as you each ate a grape, saying each month of the new year between each one. anton was able to take a grape with you, having to move his hand to rest on his knee to hide the shaking. when you get to the final month, the ball drops. you can hear it downstairs and you look at anton’s digital clock above his bed to doublecheck. it’s officially another year that you have started with anton.
“happy new year.” you say, finishing the last grape.
“happy new year.” anton says back to you. 
his voice sounds far off like he’s thinking about something. his focus goes all over your face, lingering on your eyes before stopping completely looking at your lips. you scooted closer to him. you found yourself staring at his lips too. you cleared your throat to point at his bowl filled with grapes.
“anton you barely ate any of your—“
you were cut off mid sentence by anton closing the gap between your bodies. you could barely process what happened before anton gently pressed his lips to yours. your eyes fluttered shut. you could feel his soft lips, tasting sweet like fruit. as fast as he placed his lips on yours he pulled back from you. 
your eyes snapped wide open in shock trying to process what had just happened. you had a million things rushing through your mind, the overwhelming need to tell him about his plump lips rested on your lips. you were there, frozen like a statue watching the red creep across anton’s face.
“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. i just thought—there was this feeling i’ve had about you lately i thought it was mutual.” anton said.
the red creeped to his ears as he rambled to you. immediately you should’ve said something, quelling his worries of making a move. but you selfishly gave yourself a moment to bask in the feeling of mutual pining. you sunbathed in validation, all the fleeting looks and sudden touches made sense. you put your hand over anton’s. he stopped his rambling to look at you in the eyes.
“i like you too,” you say, smiling. “and we can talk about it later, but right now i really want you to kiss me again.”
anton goes back in to kiss you. this time he lets himself fully relax into you, and you pull him in by his sweater. he’s so close you can feel his hair resting on your forehead and his nose bumps yours every time you tilt your head to get a better angle. being with anton already doesn’t feel like the first time, finding a comfortable rhythm in the kisses. you think for a second that he knows you so well he’s completely tuned into your kisses, when you’ll tilt your head or when you need a breath of fresh air. you never want to break apart from him.
you listen to the sounds of your lips making contact fill the room. you’ve dreamed of this, having anton’s hand on your face so he can kiss you deeper. it’s not long before you let the kiss turn into something more desperate. you let your tongue come out and swipe across his lip. it’s a bold move on your end, one that anton responds to instantly. he prods his tongue into your mouth, tilting your head to feel the inside of your cheek. the kisses turn messy, you bring a hand to the nape of his neck to pull at his hair. 
anton’s other hand rests on your hip. he’s so close to your ass, you both know it. anton still has his reservations, how far you’ll let him go before he wakes up from this dream. but he is taking to paradise when you lean your body towards his, lifting your ass so he can rest his hand on there fully. he squeezes his hand into the pocket of your jeans and you moan feeling the pressure of his fingers against you.
anton was already a jumpy person. he blames it on his anxiety, always putting him in a fight or flight mode. but when you moan into the kiss he nearly leaps out of his skin. his head hits the bottom of the table with such force that the things on top of it shake. you look at him wide eyed asking if he’s okay, but anton is only focused on getting you to make that sound again. the way you look at him with large doe eyes and glossy lips has him thinking about all the time he wasted not kissing you. if anton had known how badly you wanted him he would’ve made a move a long time ago. but he doesn’t want to focus on the past. right now, you had a fully exposed neck and you two had all the time in the world.
you’re still worried about the possible brain damage anton might’ve faced when he brings his thumb to swipe across your lip.
“you’re lips are so soft.” anton whispers. “and they taste like grapes.”
before you can come close to anton again he’s leaning back into you. instead of your lips, he rests his face in the crook of your neck. he kisses the skin there repeatedly, getting sloppier and sloppier with each kiss. when he takes in your skin and sucks on it, you let out a gasp. anton uses his hand in your back pocket and his other one to guide your back to the floor. the change in position has excitement taking over. you never thought you would have anton hovering over you giving you a hickey on your skin. anton takes his hand out of your pocket and tucks his fingers underneath the waistline of your jeans. you take your hands underneath his sweater, feeling his bare body.
anton moves to the other side of your neck. you get the quickest glance at him before he retreats into the crook of your neck. his eyes are big and blown out and you lift your hips so your stomach touches his. anton’s hand supports your arch, using all of his strength to keep your bodies pressed against on another. he starts using teeth when sucking on your skin and you moan again.
“i love that sound so much.” anton says.
you moan again. hearing anton abandon his shyness so he could shamelessly flirt with you had you making sounds you didn’t know you could make. anton lets his hand hover over your shirt, resting on your chest. he moves your breast around in a circular motion. you need to be out of your clothes already, feeling anton inside of you. but patience is a virtue, so you let him feel you up like hormonal teenagers.
“so pretty. i’ve always wondered what you sounded like.” anton whispers against the skin of your neck. 
“does it sound good?” you ask.
“it’s better than what i ever could’ve imagined.”
he grips the fabric over your breast a little tighter and you arch into him. you can no longer take the teasing. you make quick work of the button and zipper on your jeans. you do the same to anton, using your hands to clumsily push his pants down. anton gets the hint, smiling before letting your back down gently. he moves beside you and you both careless take off your jeans. you stay in your underwear and anton keeps his boxers on. anton lets his eyes study your legs, how you bend them self consciously as anton looks at your panties. he’s rock hard in his pants and he needs you to know it.
anton takes your hand and places it over the growing bulge in his boxers. 
“you’re so hard.” you say.
“it’s because of you.” anton says.
his voice is still so soft as he speaks to you, sounding even more airy due to his arousal. now he’s the one gasping underneath your touch, his sweater is suddenly too hot for him. he takes it off as you wrap your hand against his shaft. you hold it firmly and anton almost bucks into your hand.
“do you have a condom?” you ask. 
you sit up, taking off your sweater too. you’re left in your bra and panties as anton springs up from underneath the table to go to his bedside table. if you two had any sense you’d move to the bed, but urgency is on the forefront of your minds. you need him right here, right now, and anton can’t wait another second.
anton grabs the tinfoil package and settles back onto the ground next to you. you both move to your side, taking the moment to bring in your nearly naked bodies. you are in that lacy bra looking like god sent you down here himself, and anton’s body has you speechless. you had seen it before growing up, but the intent now made all the difference. you bring a hand to trace from his navel to his chest then back down again. he takes your breasts in his hand, kneading your skin over the bra. he’s enthralled by the way you spill over the cup of the bra.
“i can’t believe it.” anton murmurs.
“me neither.” you say. 
you’re arching your back into his touch and you bring a hand behind you to undo the bra. instantly it loosens and anton helps you out of it. he can’t stop staring at your breats, the way your boobs sit pretty on your chest. anton reaches a hand towards them before pausing.
“can i?” he asks.
“please. i need you to touch me so bad.” you say.
your eyes are closed when anton finally touches you. he squeezes the flesh gently, before realizing you need it to be a little rougher. his actions are no longer timid when he moves to the other breast. he takes the nipple into his mouth and you let out the loudest gasp. this doesn’t stop anton, only eggs him on to suck a little harder. you tweak the nipple of the other breast with your hand, and anton only has to watch. you for a second before he’s doing the same thing. 
you help anton go back to his position on top of you. your leg ends up slotting between his and you can feel his dick poking your thigh. anton looks up at you from your chest and slowly grinds his length on your thigh. it’s thick and rests heavy on your leg. you can already feel a wet spot in his boxers where precum is seeping through. you’re sure your the same way, squirming in your panties that are becoming uncomfortable.
“anton.” you whine.
he perks up to look at you, he lets your breast fall from his mouth with a lewd pop. he wipes below his lip, where some of his spit came out.
“what’s wrong?” anton asks. he places a kiss on the nipple he didn’t suck.
“i can’t wait any longer.”
anton uses his hand to guide his dick to your entrance. you can feel the girth of its blunt head. you bring in a shaky breath. the suspense is making you antsy.
“tell me if it’s too much and i’ll pull out, okay?” anton says.
his fucked out expression is replaced with one of worry. you nod your head, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders. you try to relax, letting out the breath.
“i’m ready.”
“okay.” anton says.
he lets go of his guiding hand and brings it to yours. his grabs your hand, holding it the same way he did leading you down the stairs. anton places a kiss on your forehead and you try to kiss him back. you are too enchanted by feeling him sink into you. 
“so big.” you gasp.
“i know. can you take it?” anton asks. his voice is barely above a whisper, as he sinks further into you. 
anton means it as a genuine question, anxious that he may not fit all the way inside of you with no prep. it’s a question filled with worry, but the borderline mocking question mixed with his airy voice has you opening your legs a little wider. he’s teasing you without meaning to, and anton is a feels the way you react to his innocent question..
he is big, but your arousal makes it easier for you to take all of it. anton loses more and more of his composure the deeper he goes in. when your pelvises touch you clench around him. he lets out the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard and drops his head into the crook of your neck.
you can’t control the clenching. he presses gently against your insides, each time you clamp around him you swear you can feel every ridge and vein. it’s not long before you both are whimpering messes, feeling the euphoria of sex.
“can i move?” anton asks. 
he tries his hardest to keep his voice clear but it’s meek, weakened by ecstasy.
“yes, please.” you whimper.
anton listens, bringing himself out all the way slowly before sinking back in just as slow. being able to feel every inch of him again has you digging nails into his shoulder. anton loves the pain and he grips your hip to thrust a little harder. he kisses your forehead again and he’s captivated by the sight of your face contorting in pleasure and the way your chest jumps when he gives you harder and faster thrusts. he can’t control running off at the mouth.
“i’ve waited so long for this.” anton groans. 
“how long?” you say. 
your voice hitches in the middle of your sentence when anton hits you with a harder thrust. you both moan into eachothers mouths when he hits that spot deep inside of you.
“so long.” anton says. “you have no idea.”
he wants to tell you about the winter formal last year where that red dress complimented your skin perfectly. anton was swooning over you the whole night, having to make up excuses why he was so red in the face. he felt like someone from the middle ages, weakened by the sight of your bare shoulder. anton spent the whole night trying not to imagine taking your dress off of you, kissing all over your body.  when you danced with him he had to leave a gap between the two of you, afraid that if you got to close he’d faint. 
you had no idea about the nights anton would think about your lips, the way you talked to him and looked up to him when he was alone. his yearning had turning into something more, something he thought he’d never get.
but now here you were, naked on his floor with him on top of you. anton couldn’t believe you were here with him, clenching around his length uncontrollably while he moaned into your mouth. you leaned into his touch bending your leg to wrap around his waist. it was a alight change but the new angle had anton seeing stars.
“you feel so good.” anton said. 
it was almost like he couldn’t believe it. he was hitting you deeper and faster, his hand now leaving gripping the skin of your thigh to help support your leg.
“touch me anton.” you whimper. 
“where do you need me?” he asks.
you wordlessly grab his hand, leading it to your clit. anton gets what you need immediately, tenderly rubbing the bundle of nerves. you pull him in so close by his shoulders that his arm becomes wedged between your two bodies. anton remains constant with his motions, finding a rhythm that leaves you repeating his name breathlessly. anton increases his speed when you your words come out jumbled and in a hurry. anton understands your close, because he understands everything about you. he understands why you like the music you like, why you eat the food you eat, why you watch the movies you watch. he finds himself looking down between the two of you, your taut skin reacting to his every movement. 
“give me your hand baby.” anton says. 
his hand that was holding your thigh goes to yours. you clench it, nails digging into the back of his hand. anton goes back to s slower pace. he needs to see you come undone underneath you, he needs to draw out everything he hasn’t been able to get from you.
you don’t get the chance to tell anton you’re close. it comes slowly but it swallows your whole body. anton’s fluid thrusts prolong the feeling, and his hand on your clit intesifies everything. the knuckles on your hand turn white from the grip you have on anton. he doesn’t complain, he instead whimpers into you, smushing his cheek against yours as his thrusts start becoming staggered. your leg around his waist locks him in place as he gives you on final thrust. you feel anton throbbing in you and he gasps into the crook of your neck that he’s cumming. you continue to moan, driving both your bodies to keep going. 
there’s something to be said about the two of you cumming together without planning it. the word ‘soulmate’ and the phrase ‘i love you’ sits on both of your tongues as your chests heave from exertion. anton pulls out of you, tying the condom on his dick off before letting himself fall beside you. 
both of you two stare at the bottom of the table, trying to process what just happened. you still try catching your breath when you turn your head to see anton already looking at you. his face is flushed, red splotches across his skin and his hair is unbelievably mused. he smiles at you before leaning over and wiping away a tear you didn’t even know was there. after that brief look, both of your gazes go back to the bottom of the table.
you feel anton creep his hand into yours, slow and timid. out of the corner of your eye you see him still looking at the table, with a worried expression on his face. you grab his hand and squeeze it, letting him know you’re real and you’re right there with him. your relationship with anton will never be the same, and you like it that way.
1K notes · View notes
Note
First off, not to kiss ass, but I really love your writing! I follow three people, one of which is my best friend, and you’re one of them. I always come back to your account for content! Anyways, I just wanted to voice my appreciation real quick. lmao
Aside from all that yapping, if you’re alright with it, I’d love to read some Alastor x reader headcanons, specifically about Alastor’s shadows, and how they act (and if they’re a little naughty sometimes with the reader 😏💀) before Alastor and reader start dating. Maybe they try to encourage him to ask her out? Idk, I just have random ideas floating around in my head. I completely understand if you’re uncomfortable with the idea or just too busy with others, but I just wanted to request since I saw your post about it!
Anyways, ily! ❤️
A/N: i appreciate you so much omg 🫶, thank you sm im so glad you like my writing it honestly means so much. I feel like Alastor’s shadows are so under appreciated but they’re also probably the biggest Alastor haters out here, like they probably piss him off a lot of the time when he isn’t doing business. As for the reader, they definitely steal Alastor’s girl 😏. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this!!
Warnings: shadow magic, AFAB reader, use of she/her pronouns, mentions of death, Alastor being Alastor, his shadows love you <3
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!
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Alastor’s shadows are almost always out to get him
Maybe it’s revenge, who knows, but Alastor hates it
When he first met you his shadows were over the moon about it
They always know what he’s feeling, even before he’s ready to admit them
So after you two first met they started to approach you more
You didn’t notice them at first, going on about your tasks in the hotel
Until you were cleaning a mirror and saw them behind you dancing
You just laughed and shooed them away lightheartedly, but it didn’t work
They tended to bounce between following Alastor and following you around
You had been taking a bath when one of them showed up, peering above the side of the tub
“Go away you, I need some sort of privacy” You said laughing, a bit of water spilling over the tub and within seconds the shadow was gone
Now we all know his shadows tell him any and everything
But they’re just as involved in the gossip as Angel
They’ll go to him and tell him things about you, who you were with, what you were doing, even down to the scent of your perfume
“Hello dear!”
“ Hello Alastor. Anything I can help with?” You asked. He grinned, his smile stretching ear to ear
“ Well I was just curious if you happen to know where the princess could be?”
He asks, his eyes flicking to the wall behind you for a minute.
The shadows dancing in with your own, making cringy gestures to Alastor, teasing him.
“ Oh actually I think she left to an interview with Vaggie earlier today. But that was the last I’d seen her.” You reply, but you don’t notice them behind you. His smile strains, pulling you close and walking down the hall.
“ Well my dear since we are under unsupervised vision why don’t we go out for lunch! My treat of course.”
He’s casual, as if he didn’t just steal you away from his shadows who still wanted to mingle in your presence more.
Whenever he talks to you they’ll just get really excited and cheer a lot behind you, pointing to you and making little kissy faces
he hates it
When you two start dating they only get worse in their antics
They constantly follow you around, acting as if they’re your shadows
Sometimes they take things from you to mess with you but it’s all in friendly spirit
You were doing your hair once and got distracted because one hand insisted on dancing with you
Alastor can never really have you to himself thanks to them, which he absolutely hates
“ Do you mind?”
He’ll ask, the static in his voice only louder as he clutches you to his side. The shadows stand and cross their arms, giving him the sass right back
“ They’re just having fun.” You say, and he lets it slide only because it doesn’t entirely bother you
Now they have joined in whenever Alastor and you try to get alone time
This is also the only time they aren’t against Alastor but more against you
If you ever thought of backing up into a wall to get away from Alastor think again because he’s right behind you sweetheart ;)
If you ever do flirt with them they’ll get really excited and run to Alastor about it, excitedly whispering what you’ve done
If you ever need Alastor and he isn’t near, you’ll usually have his shadows bring him to you
The perks of being with Alastor is he can never really run as long as his shadows are wrapped around your finger ;)
It was late and the hotel was quiet. Sitting in a warm bath Y/n ran the soap over her arms and down her torso, unwinding from the busy day. Until she saw shadowy eyes staring at her from above the rim of the bathtub.
“ Oh hello.” She said smiling, pausing in her actions. The shadow did nothing, sitting still and watching her shyly. “Do you happen to know where Alastor is?” She asked, leaning over a bit so the water flowed off her body easily, her torso now visible.
The shadows eyes went wide, nodding furiously. “Hmm, how about you,” she said, now eye level with the shadow, getting closer. “ bring him to me.”
The shadow had never disappeared quicker, and in its place was a confused Alastor, now kneeling in front of the tub, noticeably lost.
“Oh, Hello my dear! Something the matter?”
He asked, before she grinned, her hand reaching forward to pull him to her by the tie.
“ You’ll find out.”
Bonus:
“Dear they are actively trying to take you from me.” Alastor says, his smile strained and eyes twitching.
“Don’t be so mean, they just need some love too that’s all. Isn’t that right?” You coo, the shadows huddling around you more in a group hug. You giggle as some tickle your sides.
“This is criminal.”
2K notes · View notes
silkythewriter · 3 months
Note
Heyy so weird request but could you do a vox x reader who has a kinda one sided rivalry with him in the sense every time he releases tech she'll challenge herself to make a better version
Vox with a one sided rivalry with reader!
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Warnings!: A tad tinne winne bit of angst!, sorry if he’s OOC! (˃̣̣̥ ^˂̣̣̥`)
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!: OOOOOO I haven’t written rivals to lovers in a bit! Hopefully it’s not too bad!
( ̄▽ ̄)💧
Summary!: One sided rivalry with are favorite TV demon (ノ ≧∀≦)ノ
❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
“In the morning, you would gone
I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on To
the memory of your lips God,
I'm so lovesick What have you done to me?“
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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Devastated, like actually in greif
After YEARS of not even a single demon upon billions below in the forsaken place called hell could make a DENT in the empire he built. But then you came along! With all your Gezmos and trinkets! (He refuses to call them anything other then that)
He is insecure, no matter how much he puts a face on about not having a fear in the world. He dose, he’s terrified of being replaced or knocked off the top!
The first time you released something after he did he merely laughed. You? A small tiny little business? What idiot would do that!? Your product was most definitely gonna be looked over!
Or that is what he thought at first (ಡ‸ಡ)…
Soon he realized how quick your growth to fame was. And honestly had a melt down, who even were you?!
He makes back handed complements on his TV show like for example “and on recent news a new technology has been released by *insert your name/company name*, looks a bit cheap but it’s okay for their first time!”
Yea expect those a lot…
He’s use to company’s butting heads with him, but he always squashed them in under a day! If not less!, so he was bewildered when you just kept popping up everywhere. He doesn’t even know how. half of the channels in hell are owned or under his name! Or at least played on HIS tvs!.
And when he released a product only for the next day for it to get a bit over shadowed by yours he loses it. He immediately thinks your doing this on purpose, he thinks your doing this as a means to get his attention.
Will never admit it but he bought one just to break it outta rage but after a bit he understood the hype, will take this to his second death bed.
He’s never had a good look at you before maybe a small invention or gala for some of the highest company owners in hell. And let me tell you when this man saw you he was shocked, it took velvet to snap her fingers for him to get out of his trans-like-state. He’s more embarrassed then he’s ever been, not only are your products prove to be a good runner up to his but you were making min lose his breath.
He didn’t wanna believe at first before velvet confirmed it to him.
And may i say, the minute you glanced at him and gave him a charming smile while waving your hand at him with a small glint of pride in your eyes, he actually had a system crashed screen as his whole system rebooted.
It wouldn’t be long till you made your way over to him trying to introduce yourself(•̀ᴗ•́)و
Honestly he couldn’t think straight until you excused yourself to talk to another business owner. He dosent understand, for all the years he’s been dead how is his heart beating so fast for you?
In denial about any feelings towards you, it can’t be! He despises you !, right?
Takes him a bit to work up the courage to talk to you again, as he introduced himself properly with as much passive aggressive charm he could muster. Only to be confused at your sweet yet passive aggressive smile as you shook his hand with such care
How can someone be so competitive yet so sweet?
We’re you trying to woo him on purpose!?(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
He didn’t understand even though he knew your intent, and the underlying nature in your interaction. He still found it charming, and shocking at you technical level and marking tactics. He isn’t happily impressed, but he is definitely impressed, he would never show that though of course.
It always seemed no matter how much of a short time between releases you always managed to make it better he just didn’t understand how!. How did you have such short time to perfect something that he’s been working at for months!
He soon realizes out shinning you or squashing you business wasn’t gonna work. You guys were too evenly matched, it would be through pure luck that one of you would out shine the other one day and not the next. So he did the best next thing, purposed a business deal (quite reluctantly might I add)
To just merge company’s he knew your rise wouldn’t falter anytime soon.
At first you felt like this was a trick, to steal your soul or take you out while your walls were down. But he quickly explained it’d be easier to just have you work on things and share the profit (surprise, surprise)
Now you can decide weather you accept or not!
But after that meeting he would call you over for many more strictly for business meetings! Definitely not just desperate to spend time with you or anything
Even when you proposed to just, email, or text, he still declined saying he found it easier to say what he needed out loud. Definitely…. (≖ᴗ≖✿)
Sooner or later you’d catch on, or some people on the news would gossip of your “secret affairs”
You would soon confront him about this, and let me tell you this man is decent at standing under pressure in some if not most situations expect this one.
I feel like he wouldn’t admit it till MANY months later cause he’s just that stubborn
He just hates it, he hates your stupid smile, the way you make his stomach do back flips, the small glint of happiness and pride when your product is loved and bought by the millions. He hates the smile you keep even if at a rivalry with him. He hates everything about you, he hates it, he hates it so much he ends up realizing he loves it.
Yea he is one complicated man….
But once he finally admits it, and you end up giving it a shot. This guy would try to act like he wasn’t about to shut down, like his inner fans and vents weren’t about to self implode, he’d act cool and collected about it but behind closed doors he’s quite literally smiling like a dope
NOW if this were released to the public, the mess that would ensue is scandals upon scandals.
I mean! Imagine the head lines! “Two of hells most biggest company rivals now together?!”
News is fast to spreed lemme tell you that
I feel like he would rather have the relationship private but if it got out…let’s just say he wouldn’t stop it either per say (¬‿¬)
Overall! I feel like even if it was a one sided rivalry I feel like it would quickly turn to both of you butting heads. Cause to out shine the king of tech himself is quite the challenge, and you being able to do that says a lot!, he’ll be holding a grudge even into a relationship and still would get competitive here to there he would definitely still study your work to see how you improve so fast!. Still in the end of the day he’ll still dote on you behind close doors!
ପ(๑•̀ᴗ-♡ॢ)⋆*✩
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
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WOWZA THAT WAS ALOT OH MY GOSH
ヘ(。□°)ヘ
I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!, I haven’t written rivals to lover plot in a bit BUT MY GOSH NESS ITS VERY FUN TO PLAY AROUND WITH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN! O(≧▽≦)O
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triptuckers · 4 months
Text
bonfire - percy jackson
Request: yes! "Hey I was just wondering if you could make a Percy Jackson x gn reader where the reader had a crush on Percy for a while and was jealous of annabeth only to find out Percy felt the same" Pairing:  percy jackson x gn!reader Summary:  you've got a crush on percy, but it looks as if he only has eyes for annabeth. you try to keep your distance, but it's hard and percy notices you're absent Warnings:  jealousy, angst Word count:  1.5K A/N: happy new year!! sadly I went into the year with my tiktok account getting banned because they think I'm 13?? all I do is post silly little pjo videos but apparently its not okay so now I have to start over :( thanks for your request, enjoy!
you wonder if your life would be different if you were more like annabeth.
you're looking at her right now, as she's talking with her team. you know you can't win capture the flag from her. she's too smart. always analysing, always calculating everything that can go wrong and then preventing it.
percy is also looking at annabeth.
he's on her team, after all.
you're trying to listen as clarisse, your team captain, explains her new plan to your team. but you're only hearing half of what she's saying. you're far too focused on percy as he smiles at annabeth while she's talking to him.
you can tell he likes her. and it's not like you hadn't tried to let it go.
you had tried to push your feelings away, to ignore them, nothing worked. when you saw percy chatting with annabeth, you felt a little jealous.
soon your crush on percy and with it, your jealousy of annabeth, started to grow. so you decided if nothing worked, you'd distance yourself from percy.
it hurt, especially since percy was happy to spend his time with annabeth instead of you. at first, he would still invite you to spend time with him. but after you kept declining his offers, he eventually stopped asking you.
you tried not to show anyone how upset you were. maybe it would get easier with time. it's clear to you percy prefers annabeth over you.
on top of it all, you lose capture the flag yet again. you're forced to sit on the sidelines with your team, listening to clarisse tell you everything that went wrong. in the distance, you can see percy and annabeth celebrating their win with the rest of the team.
you tell yourself it's just a game and that you don't care their team won. maybe if you tell yourself it enough times, you might believe it.
when you're walking back to the cabins to put away your armor and weapons, you hear someone call your name behind you.
you turn around and see percy jogging to catch up with you.
you hate the way your heart still skips a beat when you see his eyes and quick smile.
'good game!' he says, stopping in front of you.
'hi percy.' you say.
'hi.' he says with a smile. gods, he's going to be the death of you one day.
'congrats on winning. again.'
'thanks! annabeth had this amazing plan.'
'athena kids, huh?' you mumble, trying not to show your disappointment at how it only took a couple of seconds for percy to bring up annabeth in the conversation.
'you busy tonight?' he says.
you look up at him. surely he wouldn't?
'not really. why?' you say.
'there's a bonfire tonight. want to come?' says percy.
'yeah, that sounds good.' you say. you could never say no to him.
sitting at the bonfire, you hadn't done that in a while. ever since you decided to try and distance yourself from percy, you missed out on things you knew he would be present at.
'great! it was annabeth's idea to host one, see you tonight!' says percy, waving at you and taking off again, headed towards his own cabin.
you just stand there. of course it was annabeth's plan, of course she'd be there as well.
as you walk to your cabin, you're not sure you can stand watching them together all night after watching them win capture the flag. but you'd told percy you'd come. and you hate to let him down.
so when the sun is setting, you make your way to the bonfire. while you're walking, you can't stop thinking about how cold it is. you should have brought a jacket. but you're afraid that if you go back to your cabin, you won't go to the bonfire anymore. and then percy would be upset.
at the bonfire, there's almost no kids from your team. there are a few of your siblings, but not a lot.
the kids from the opposite team are dancing, laughing and celebrating.
is this really where you want to be tonight?
you spot percy in the distance, talking with a few apollo kids. without meaning to, your eyes also search for annabeth. she's sitting with her siblings. at least they're not together again.
you'd stay for an hour. just to show your face, then you'd go back to your cabin. that's acceptable, right?
you get yourself a drink and sit down near the edge of the party, where most of the kids are just talking with each other and not really doing a lot.
as you think back to capture the flag earlier today, you try to figure out how annabeth's team could always beat yours. you know athena kids are smart, but ares kids also know a lot about battle strategies. maybe you could sit down with clarisse some day and see if you can help her with a new plan.
you're lost in thoughts, when you hear a familiar laugh in the distance. you look over and see annabeth has left her siblings and is now sitting next to percy.
you sigh softly, it was never going to be any different, was it?
for a while, you watch the other kids, listening to their songs. you had to give it to the apollo cabin, they know how to get a party started. when you look back at percy and annabeth, percy is gone.
before you can look around where he is, someone sits down next to you.
'having fun?'
you turn and are met with percy's bright eyes. you put on a smile, hoping it looks sincere.
'yeah. thanks for inviting me.' you say.
percy tilts his head a little and gives you a confusing look.
'you say you're having fun and yet since you got here you've been sitting here with a drink you haven't touched, freezing and shivering.' says percy.
right. you forgot your jacket.
'sorry. I was thinking about capture the flag.' you say.
'ah yes, about our fantastic victory.' says percy, smiling and bumping your shoulder. 'you should come up with a new plan some day. maybe talk to clarisse about it?'
'I will.' you say.
'then again, it is hard to beat annabeth's plans. sometimes I don't even know her entire plan until the game is already over.' says percy.
really? how does he manage to bring up annabeth every single time he's talking to you?
'well, don't let me keep you.' you say. 'thanks for checking in, but you don't have to take pity on me for losing. you can go back to annabeth now.'
percy frowns. 'what are you talking about?' he says.
'well, clearly you like her.' you say.
percy laughs at your words. you feel the color drain from your face. tears start to form in your eyes.
'alright, I'm leaving.' you say, getting up.
percy abruptly stops laughing. 'wait no, please don't go.' he says, pulling you back down.
'sorry, I shouldn't have laughed at that. it's just, yeah, I like annabeth. but not like that, we're just friends. I like you, okay? I thought you knew.' says percy.
your lips part in surprise. did you hear that right?
'you like me?' you say. 'like... you like like me?'
percy smiles. gods he really is beautiful. 'yeah, I like like you, alright.' he says. 'which reminds me, why have you been avoiding me lately?'
you look down, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 'I thought if I wouldn't see you, my feelings for you would go away.'
'but they didn't.'
'no, they didn't. my eyes were still finding you in ever room. even tonight, I didn't really want to come. but I couldn't say no to you.'
'is that also why you didn't bring a jacket? so you'd have an excuse to go back soon?'
you look up and shake your head. 'no, I did actually forget my jacket.' you say.
percy takes off his sweater and hands it to you. 'here.' he says. 'wouldn't want you to freeze.'
'thank you.' you say, taking it and putting it on. it's bigger than your own sweaters and smells like him.
'want to get out of here?' says percy. 'we can go to the lake. or my cabin, no one's there. it'll just be the two of us.'
'do you have a heater in your cabin?' you say.
'no.' says percy, getting up and holding out his hand to you. 'but consider me your personal heater from now on. always available for cuddles.'
you smile, taking his hand. 'I like that.' you say.
as you and percy walk off, annabeth is still sitting by the campfire. she's smiling to herself. she knew about percy's crush on you. he'd been asking her all sorts of advice. and it looks like he finally told you.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
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luciddownloading · 5 months
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Mars and Sex
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18+. Mars' house placement or aspects may modify certain details/traits
MARS IN FIRE (Aries Mars, Leo Mars, Sagittarius Mars) 🌶️
They are fun and playful in bed, not taking it too seriously. If something silly or awkward happens during the act, they're quick to laugh about it. They can also make you laugh before they make you... you know. Sex must always have an element of excitement or thrill for them, which is why they need a very sexual, passionate partner. A dry bedroom is like a death sentence for them. They get off on an element of danger, like public sex or doing it at an inappropriate time, like a family visit or on a flight. Potentially getting caught is really hot to them. They also LOVE a good simp and the especially confident ones attract this easily. The more you worship them and their body, the better. At the least, they need you to consistently tell them how hot they are and how awesome they are in bed. Validation turns them on. Calling out their name while doing it really works. Hype them up! It's their fuel. They're also most likely to record themselves, as in making a sex tape, and most turned on by that.
MARS IN EARTH (Taurus Mars, Virgo Mars, Capricorn Mars) 💋
These people are very straightforward sexually. Typically, they have very simple and non-kinky desires. They're pretty vanilla but do not take that in a negative way. Most of them are downright experts in bed and can really, um, impress partners with their skills. They just don't need any bells and whistles. The pure physical pleasure of sex is more than enough to satisfy them. (Sex toys aren't really their thing, either. They'd rather just have another person or their own hand.) However, if their partner is kinky, they will fully commit, so long as it's within their boundaries. Foreplay is also a MUST. Lots of kissing, maybe some wine, working up to the action. They prefer a nice buildup. Jumping right in too quickly or without any sensuality turns them off. They hate it when a partner doesn't kiss, for example, and they're usually superb kissers themselves. Using their mouth in that other way is also their special skill.
MARS IN AIR (Gemini Mars, Libra Mars, Aquarius Mars) 😏
Do not let a chill or innocent demeanor fool you. Some of them come across that way but these people are WILD. In general, definitely kinky and always down to experiment. You might be shocked if they ran down a list of the sexual things they've dabbled in. Sex is a very mental thing to them and they will try any idea that either comes to their mind or that someone else has. They can actually be very impressionable in that way. Communication is their thing, so they can be very verbal in a really hot, effective way. This can also translate into plenty of sexting or some video-call action. They love hookup apps, too. But, some of them talk a big game yet get nervous when they actually have to do all those things. Yes, they can get bored easily but they also can be most eager to please in bed. Typically, they care a lot about you enjoying yourself. Some can take that to the extreme of wanting to watch you get off or even watch you be with someone else (if you're into that).
MARS IN WATER (Cancer Mars, Scorpio Mars, Pisces Mars) 💦
These people are not necessarily the genteel lovers you may expect them to be. In fact, many of them are very rough in bed or just love to be roughed up by their partner. Generally, it's like you see another layer of their personality during sex that they may be too shy or self-protective to reveal otherwise. The flip side of this is that some of them are surprisingly much softer during sex than elsewhere, either being very submissive or having that "soft top" energy. Either way, sub/dom dynamics are HUGE with them. They are really into choking or slapping or inflicting pain. Sex may not be satisfactory for them unless it leaves bruises; on them or their partner. But, unless they're mentally unwell, they would never want to hurt without consent. Safety words and such. Sex for them can span a wide range because, if they feel safe enough, they can have the most tender lovemaking sessions. Or baby-making sessions, if it's a hetero couple who want that. Casual sex can be very hard to nearly impossible for them. Some may convince themselves they can do it but if they sleep with someone just a few times, things inevitably get messy. They can get very irrational or insecure if they don't feel truly needed by their partner.
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14thgalerie · 7 months
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dreamin' of him
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• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: a little death by the neighbourhood / fuck it i love you by lana del rey
• word count: 5.7k
• genre: fluff
— a part of this is inspired by this scenario i saw on tiktok, can't exactly remember it which vid it was. anyways enjoy this little random scenario that i'm pretty sure is horrible because i didn't bother to proofread it again.
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You shot right up from your sleep, limbs tangled in the sheets that had been strewn about haphazardly. The room is still as dark as it had been when you fell asleep with only the faint light of the full moon serving as your guiding light.
You drop your head onto your hands that sit on your folded knees, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes until you can only see white. Ignoring the pain only so that you can be rid of the images that keep flashing in your mind.
It was excruciating, it played like a broken VHS record on your parents’ television back home. Every millisecond, a frame of you in such a vulnerable embrace with–
No. Y/N, stop it.
You were grappling with your sanity, feeling yourself incredulous at how such an idea came to fruition in your mind. Several nights’ on the end of this senseless, out-of-the-world dream that popped out of nowhere. The both of you hardly spoke with one another, for Merlin’s sake.
Throwing your head back, giving up on forcing the images out of your thoughts. Your head was spinning. Slamming your temple against the solid, wooden headboard behind you until you hear a ring resonating through your ears.
How did you let yourself get into this? What happened that you are being haunted— if that’s what you would even call it — by these dreams?
It’s been days of sleepless nights and you are plain tired. He must have cursed you. There was no other reason for this, right? He could be annoying when he wanted to be.
With your back resting on the headboard, you see that your dorm mates haven’t gotten back yet. Still, you remain seated as you wonder where they are, staring at the open window to your right.
“You’re the only one that can do this to me, Y/N…”
You gasp and sit straight, slapping your forehead with your open palm, trying to chase the image away. Throwing a glance at your watch that sits on the bedside table, you see that it’s only an hour and a half before you are supposed to wake up.
Exhaling loudly, you shove the blankets away from your body, feeling a warmth creep up on you. Maybe a good, cold, and long shower will distract you for good.
Grabbing a change of clothes, you head straight for the bathroom in your dorm. Now’s one of the few times you are glad that the dorms at Hogwarts have their own showers. 
Looking at the small, worn mirror above the sink, you chuckle humorlessly at how disheveled your appearance is. Anyone who sees you right now might think that your dreams are last night’s reality.
Stepping under the painful cold water, your body unconsciously jolts at the shock. 
Thinking about it makes your heart race. It gives you jitters, too. The feeling wasn't much to your liking. It was distracting. Not to mention it made you feel so... vulnerable. A shiver ran up your spine. You paused for a breath to calm your heightened nerves.
This has to end soon. You couldn’t stand another night spent thinking of him, of all people.  
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“I uh- I need to go.” You cough, clearing your throat, hands shaking slightly as you move to stand up. “I still have this essay for Potions.” 
“What- Hey wait, Y/N!” Harry reaches out, nearly missing your arms. 
“Why are you suddenly running off? It’s not due until next week?” Giving you a worried look. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, Harry. I feel extraordinarily perfect, I just- I wanna go back to my room right now.” You sigh, looking up at him. Your body remains tense under his tight grip. “So please let me go.”
Harry tries to not look disappointed, giving a quick glance back at your two other friends who watch you in silence. “Alright then, but if you need anything, you know where to find us.”
Giving him a small nod before pivoting in your heel, you walked straight to the Great Hall's large entryway. You ignored the way your skin burned with the intensity of the searing eyes that had locked onto you since its entry. 
“Why did you leave in such a hurry?” A cool voice asks from behind you. 
You freeze.
“Pardon?” You conjure up a reply, bluntly.
“Ok- what’s got your knickers in a twist?” 
“Nothing!” You reply defensively. Wanting nothing more than to be back within the confines of your dorm room.
“Alright, alright. I got it.” The cool, calm voice waves off an erratic rhythm to your heart. You continue to stare forward along the corridor, paying no mind as he circles around until there is a face attached to the voice. “I was just wondering why you skittered out of the Hall faster than when you were caught by Filch with the Weasley twins.”
Tilting your chin towards your chest, “What do you want, Nott?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged, “I was just curious, that is all.”
You scoff at the mockery clear in his tone. “Seriously, what is it? Because if you’re only here to be an annoying twat, I have better places to be.” 
You purposely bump into his shoulder as you make your way past him. Not in the mood to play along with him right now. Not when that stupid smirk of his is reeling images that you have been tirelessly trying to be rid of. Images that are the cause of your cranky attitude in the mornings.
From the corner of your eyes, you see him cock his head slightly to the right. Another thing you hate. He becomes more incessantly annoying when you are visibly annoyed by him.
“Nott.” You warn.
“What?“ He asks, amusement clear in his tone. “Am I not allowed to walk the same grounds that you do now?”
“Walk elsewhere. I am quite sure that you know of other paths from here to wherever you are to go. With your many endeavors, it’ll be stupid if you didn’t.” You murmur the latter under your breath.
“What was that?” He catches up to you, walking leisurely with his long legs. “Didn’t quite hear that last part properly.”
Before you could reply, a shout from the courtyard called both of your attention. A redhead girl from Ravenclaw was waving in your direction. You turn to look at Theodore who has now turned his sight back to you.
“I think she’s waiting for you.” You swiftly walk towards your house tower, making haste before he follows you again.
Unbeknownst to you, his stare remains fixated on you until your figure disappears around the corner. Only then does he wave back at the girl and make a quick return to the Hall where he left his friends mid-conversation. 
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 It wasn’t the last that you see of Theodore after, nor was it the last morning when you woke up groggy and irritated at the lack of sleep. It seems that since then, the both of you find yourselves orbiting each other much more often than before.
Not that you found it all disappointing. 
There were times that he was a good companion to have around— forget the hooded eyes that left you conscious every time. When he isn’t being an annoying twat, he knew how to hold a conversation with you; your lack of similarities is a good point as you were able to share things that the other didn’t know of.
But in truth, Theodore searched for you. In the boisterous chatters of students in the corridors, between the towering bookshelves of the library, through the window of the dimly lit Potions classroom where he has a clear view of Hagrid’s hut where you and your friends frequent.
He looks for you in all places, unable to help himself from an attempt to have a glimpse of you.
He did give his best efforts to tuck away his inexplainable attraction to you recently, and he wouldn’t dare admit that there is even a chance that he does. His denial was a fortress but cracks appeared within its walls with each time he talks to you.
“She’s at the Hospital Wing.” Blaise hesitatingly brings up. 
He almost jerks up from his comfortable position on the couch where he and Blaise are observers of their other friend’s drunken endeavors. But he manages to grab a hold of himself before the other notices.
“Why bother telling me?” His forced indifference is not as apathetic as he wished it to be. “I don’t care.”
“Oh shut up, Theo. I have never seen you so utterly fond of another girl like you do with her.” Blaise retracts back to what he was gonna say, “Anyways, I hear she will be a volunteer ahead of the Quidditch match this Sunday.”
He doesn’t reply, letting the words of his friend slip from one ear to another. You were interesting. He was unsure how, in the many years you’ve known one another, that you caught his eye now.
“She’s nice, not unlike some of her friends at Gryffindor.” Blaise continues with his taunting, eager to see a reaction from Theo. “Even managed to convince me to be her partner for Herbology.”
Theo makes a noise in a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “From the sound of how you speak of her, it’s like you’re the one that has caught butterflies.”
Blaise simply hums, nodding to himself. “Maybe.”
Not another word slips from him again. The silence of his relinquishment makes Theo’s heart skip a nervous beat. Blaise never gives up that easily.  
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“Hello there.” A voice makes you look up from your book which you have been drowned in since hours ago. To your surprise, it was Blaise. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask. Curious why he had so suddenly appeared beside you while you were studying. You scour your brain, trying to remember if you had a project with him that ultimately passed by you.
“Go to Hogsmeade with me later.” Blaise blurts out while you gather your books that are scattered along the table. 
“Huh?” You look up at him with wide eyes. You give out a confused laugh. Maybe you didn’t understand him, right? “Did I hear you right? Hogsmeade? The two of us?”
“Well, don’t make it sound like it’s such an atrocious thing.” He makes a sound of mock offense; even making the choice to put a hand above his chest. To which you vehemently shake your head.
“Gosh no! It’s just-“ You trail off. “Why all of a sudden?”
“Nothing at all…” He shrugs, but that look on his face tells you entirely different. The mischievous expression that is ever so slightly slipping through. “Just wanted to hang out with a good friend of mine.”
You look at him with a confused frown, unsure of what he’s doing. “Since when were we good friends? Last I checked we only talked every now and then and it was really only just for projects.”
“Just come with me, will you?” 
“No.” You shake your head to further make your point. “Tell me why first and maybe I’ll consider.”
Blaise sighs, giving up. He had expected that you would not be giving in so easily to his request, after all, you weren’t really that close. But he still thought that it was worth the try, he is tired of Theo acting like he’s better than his emotions. He decides to tell you.
Well… somewhat.
“Alright, lady. I want to make a friend of mine jealous.” You hummed, listening intently. Wondering why he chose you to do it. “Also, because you’re the only person that I genuinely enjoy hanging with from other houses.”
“Will you tell me who’s the friend?” You ask.
“No.” He quickly replies, “But Y/N…I’ll treat you with anything you want at the Three Broomsticks or wherever else. Just please.” He draws out the please, adding hints or really a dump load of sweetness to it to charm you.
You think for a second more before finally giving him a nod. “Ok, but you’ll have to come with me to Honeydukes. Payback for doing whatever it is you’re planning.”
“You can have whatever you want. I’ll wait for you by the Fat Lady.” Blaise tells you before walking off with a huge grin on his face. 
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“Y/N?”
And when you turned your head, a surprised Blaize looked at you with a smile, apparently he had just been in mid-conversation with a fellow Slytherin as he hung about the entrance.
He whistled as he wasted no time approaching you, waving a curt goodbye to his previous companion. 
“Remind me why you never wear clothes other than your uniform?” He asks, his eyes unabashedly trailing over you. Though not in a predatory way that leaves you uncomfortable.
“Because it’s a hassle having to think of an outfit when I could just put a uniform on and call it a day.”
He hums, nodding as he thought about it.
“Well you look good in your non-school clothes, you should wear them more often.” He suggests, although he quickly amends it. “Not that I’m saying you don’t look great normally, it’s just nice to see how you would personally choose the clothes you wear. It kind of reflects a lot of your personality more.”
The two of you make no rush as you travel to Hogsmeade along with the other students, chuckling at the eager third-years who are freely roaming around. Engaging in small talk all the way. 
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“What’s got you in such a sour mood?” You rolled your eyes at Theo, who has done nothing but glare at Blaise who sits beside you with such harsh blinding venom. “If all you plan to do here is to murder Blaise in a million ways inside your mind, then please do it some other time.”
The man beside you couldn’t help the amused choke that escapes him as he sips his glass of Butterbeer.
Theo finally breaks his lone stare down and shifts his attention to you. “Since when did you two hang about by yourselves?”
“We always have-“ Blaise starts to explain but he is cut off by a kick to his shin that makes his knee jerk up and hit the table. 
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
His eyes remained fixated on you still, a medley of emotions behind them that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. 
“Well, Y/N? I’m waiting for you here.” He impatiently asks. “Are you two on a date?”
“Theo, if you think that we are, then why did you even come here?” You roll your eyes at whatever antics that the both of them are trying. Not realising that you called him by his nickname, usually reserved for his close friends.
“Well-“ He stammered, unable to explain why exactly did he approach you all of a sudden. “Blaise doesn’t have that good of a reputation with girls and I wanted to make sure he’s not trying anything with you.”
Blaise clears his throat in an attempt to remind his friend that he is still sitting at the table, clearly within earshot of whatever slander he’s being put to.
“I can hardly think of a reason why you would if he does, but we were just having a conversation as friends, Theo.” You finally answer. “Is it that much of a surprise that I tolerate one of you?”
“He wants it to be him.” The man beside you mutters under his breath which you ignore, thinking it is only a jab.
Theo once again kicks Blaise under the table, making the latter swear under his breath.
While the two of them bicker like they are some man-child, you spot Hermione and the rest of your friends coming in through a tiny door and sitting at a table by the staircase. You scoot over until you are out of the seat, glad that you chose to sit at the open end of the table, without making a noise.
You make quick haste to transfer to your friends' table without garnering attention from the two Slytherin boys.
“Hide me.” You drop your heavy body on the seat beside Harry, trying your best to hunch over his relatively short upper body. 
The three instead laugh at your obvious demise, Ron not even trying to hide his amusement with such a burst of boisterous laughter. Unlike you, the three had noticed how Theodore Nott had been seen beside you much more often than necessary. At first, it was nothing that they really paid attention to, but when you told them of your otherwise eventful dreams…they began to have other thoughts.
It was clear that both of you were attracted to one another except for yourselves. And it’s been a hilarious sight to be an audience to but they are beginning to tire of your constant zoning off when the other is in your peripheral.
“What even is with you and Blaise coming to Hogsmeade together?” Ron asks. “I thought you liked Nott.”
You exhaled in exasperation, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like him.” Gritting your teeth and clenching your jaw at the blatant teasing. “I am seriously beginning to regret telling you about my dreams.”
You watch as Harry stands to grab drinks for the rest of you guys, trying to explain why you came here. Not forgetting to mention how Theo had suddenly the conversation you’ve been having with Blaise. 
You were shocked to find that the both of you actually shared a lot of the same interests in various aspects; books, music, values, name it all. So despite your previous disinclination to agree with his idea that you would get along well, you thoroughly enjoyed the short time that you spent alone. 
His genuine interest in the many muggle creations that you’ve mentioned has made you all giddy. Telling him of all and everything that he must try, making a mental note to give him some things that you have in your dorm.
On the other end, Blaise shared a few of his interests with you— though it was only very few, given that the wizarding world does not really pay much attention to those kinds of things, especially the purebloods. 
“So just because he bribed you with anything you want from Honeydukes, you agreed? Y/N!” Hermione exclaims, to which you only answer her with wide eyes. 
“What?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the bewildered expression on her face. 
“You’ve been to Hogwarts for how many years now and yet you have no idea what going to Hogsmeade with only one person insinuates?”
“Uh- What?”
“That you two are going on a date of course?” She practically scolds you. Maybe you shouldn’t laugh at Ron anymore when she becomes like this. It's no joke that it feels like you could be the stupidest person on the planet.
“We’re only friends, for Merlin’s sake! Well, we became friends today.” You roll your eyes. “It’s not my fault that is what might people think.”
Harry and Ron look at each other with more than amused grins on their faces.
“I think I finally know why Nott was practically making the snow melt under his feet earlier,” Ron remarks. To which you give him a confused look, unsure what he meant.
“What?”
“Well, before we came in here, we saw Nott almost stomp his way to here. I swear that I actually saw steam coming out of his ears.” Ron exaggeratingly shares, taking a sip out of his pint glass. “I thought he was about to burn this place down to ashes with how he looked so mad.”
That explains why he’s being more moody than usual.
“What’s that got to do with Blaise and I?” You finally ask the question that’s been brewing in you since he mentioned it.
But the only response you get is a look of disbelief from all three of them. Each one just about screaming “Are you being serious?” without saying anything.
“Are you truly that dense Y/N?” Harry asks, his hand reaching out to pat you on the shoulder.
You push him off, glaring at him. “No, but seriously what do you mean?”
“Even Harry and Ron, oblivious as they come, recognise that Nott has some kind of interest in you.” Hermione explains, “I don’t even know if he realised it himself but the two of you are oozing love hearts everywhere you go. It’s torture to see how you both ignore it.”
You're left dumbfounded, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment at the mere suggestion. Your thoughts racing as you consider Hermione's words. Theodore Nott, the mysterious and enigmatic Slytherin, having an interest in you? It was a revelation that sent your mind reeling, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had been completely oblivious to his feelings all along.
No. That’s just… wrong. This had to be another one of their pranks again. Ever since you confided in them of your dreams, they’ve been ceaselessly teasing you with Theo. Yeah, this must be it.
You chose to respond in a haughty tone, in an attempt to mask her flustered feelings. “Gosh, if this is what spurs in your minds when I tell you about my struggles at night, then I’d rather just keep them to myself from now on. Find something else to speculate about.” 
Unbeknownst to you, while you were so flustered trying to deny anything and everything they say of you and Theo, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had mentally orchestrated a plan. Harry subtly made a signal to the other two to play along as he saw Theo stand up from his heated conversation with Blaise to approach you four.
With sly smiles quickly masked, they leaned in closer to you and feigned curiosity. 
“Alright then,” Ron begins, “But I heard from Hermione that you had another dream last night. Is it as juicy as last time?” 
Harry chimed in, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “Yes, please spill the details. We’re all ears.”
Caught off guard by their sudden and out-of-place interest.  “I said that I’m never telling you of anything again. And it's not juicy! Please don't ever use that word ever again.” You never wanted to divulge anything related to your rather steamy dreams again to your friends. 
“This is the last time, we promise! And we promise to not annoy you any more with Nott.” Hermione exclaims though you reach out to slap her on her arm at how loudly she said it. Looking around the bustling crowd to see if anyone heard it, confused when you see Blaise sitting with somebody else now, probably some friends from Slytherin, Theo nowhere in sight.
Little did she know that Theo had indeed overheard their conversation and as he was slowly nearing their table, curiosity piqued as he heard his name. He slowed in his steps, waiting to hear more.
Your face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as you think back to last night, a bit different— a whole lot different. The dream had left you truly confused because it was nothing like the otherwise steamy ones you had. It was unsettlingly normal, and it has left you with a sense of unease that left you unable to sleep properly, terrified at what this means.
 You cleared your throat, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, it was just a, you know, like the ones I told you. Nothing too different. I still hate it."
Hermione's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, feigning innocence. "From the look on your face, it seems to be different. Tell us about it, pretty please."
You hesitated but then began to describe the dream in the most vague and unassuming way possible, but you knew no matter what you said, they would use this to tease you endlessly. "Alright, alright. So, in the dream, I was in the Black Lake, and there was a gentle, warm breeze. I was walking with someone, and it was peaceful. It was like…everything is normal. No war, no problems, no animosity, just us walking like any normal person.”
Harry and Ron exchanged knowing glances, while Hermione continued to prod gently. "And who were you walking with, Y/N?"
Your gaze darted around the table, avoiding eye contact. Not seeing how their eyes slightly shifted behind you. "Well, it was just someone... you know, a dream version of someone I know. Like you don’t know already."
Hermione shook her head, “Yeah but this is different, so it must be somebody else right?”
“Hermione…It’s Theo, who else.” 
"Y/N…" You hear a voice behind you call out in a low tone, with a thread of voice. 
Your eyes widen, filled to the brim with alertness and humiliation. Your mother was right, one day this mouth will get you in trouble— not that it hasn’t been proven countless times before— but now nothing made you want to become more one with the ground than this moment.
You swallow hard and turn around, instantly the mortification in your features becomes tenfold. There it is— the stupid, bloody smirk that is always present on his stupid, pretty face when he has caught you red-handed. 
“Don’t.” You warn.
He leans his entire weight back on the wooden post behind him, staring down at you with a look of satisfaction, unapologetically reveling in your obvious embarrassment.
“Oh, but I must.” He drawls, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Your frustration surges as you fold your arms, attempting to salvage a shred of dignity in this awkward moment. You give him a glare before turning back front facing to the table.
“You are truly insufferable, you know that?”
Without even being able to see it, you already know that his grin widens at your reply. “Guilty, I’m afraid.”
Theo pushed himself off the wooden post and sauntered closer to where you were sitting, making your heart stutter. The playful glint in his eyes brings forth an image that you would rather not see right now.
"But what's the fun in letting you off the hook so easily? It’s not every day that I find out somebody has been kept awake all night because of me."
You could only continue to cast a withering look at him as you shook your head. "You just love tormenting me, don't you?"
He sits down on the seat next to you, ignoring the other occupants who have reserved to remain quiet. Truly enjoying the show that you, unfortunately, are the star of. He inches closer to you until you can almost feel your eyelashes flutter at his breath.
“Only because I quite enjoy how flustered you can be.” He admits softly, and in that moment the playful teasing in his voice gives way to something else.
A different kind of tension. 
Not one that you would like to be a part of.
“Well, that would be the last of it.” 
Theo and your friends are left bewildered when you suddenly stand and disappear among the group of rowdy students.
His eyebrows furrow and his gleaming expression turns into one of confusion and a hint of hurt and disappointment. “What just happened?”
When he finally turns to look at your friends, all they do is share uneasy glances with each other. They were unsure of how to respond to Theo’s question when they could hardly comprehend what had only occurred.
Hermione opens her mouth to say something but closes it once more when the words in her mind are a jumble.
“Astronomy Tower.” He hears someone say. His cerulean blue eyes that somehow turned grey shifted to the bespectacled boy sitting a chair away from him. “Go.” 
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“Why did you run off?” You ignore the voice that shatters the silence. The bristles of the wind brush against your clothes. Your head thrumming as the sound of your shoes clicking against the concrete permeates into the air. 
He calls you by your name with a gentleness that sends tingles down your spine. But yet again, you ignore him. Choosing to stare intently at the rust that forms by the railing in front of you, the complex chemical reaction is seemingly more interesting to you now. 
“Y/N please…I don't know what’s going on your mind right now but we need to talk.” He moves to stand next to you, placing his arms on the barrier. “I will say it, no matter if you want to listen or not. We clearly have feelings for each other.”
You want to say that you are surprised that he is being so straightforward right now, but it’s evident that someone had to stop whatever dance the both of you had been playing at for the past month already. 
 “And that’s confirmed by what I heard earlier.” He chuckles in an attempt to lighten up the mood. “Gods, I hate you so much.”
“Your dreams say otherwise.” He continues with his teasing.
“Stop it. As if you’re any better with how you acted with Blaise earlier.” You hit him back. “Blaise is an annoying ass who meddles in my business way more often than necessary. But I guess he did one thing right.”
“What?” You ask, turning your body to lean on the railing, facing him.
“He kept bothering me about you, and I guess he got tired and decided to make a move leading us to this moment.” 
“He can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be." You agree. Silence befalling after.
“Gods, I don’t know what happened but it’s you.” He breathes heavily.  
A laugh escapes your chest, “If somebody came to us two months ago and told us that we’d be acting like this, I would think they’re mental.”
Theo grins at you, making you giggle to see the little fang on the corner of his mouth. He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, making a move to press his forehead to yours as he nears.
The vivid, flashing images of Theo from your dreams doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. The skin under his touch tingled and it made you itch to reach out with your fingertips, feeling as if you would crumble beneath his hands.
You pull away to stare up at him. The cold that typically veils over his eyes are gone as they reciprocate your stare with an even warmer touch. Every nerve ends in you lighting up with a golden electricity.
Theo opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, and then shut it, apparently struggling to remember how to talk.
So, he decided that actions seem to be your thing anyways, as the two of you are quite horrible at talking.
Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Theo leans forward and presses his lips against yours so gently. All you can think about is him even as you respond to his kiss, melting against the touch. 
He pressed himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing the gods to let you be one. Hell, he wanted to climb into your ribcage and possibly live out the rest of his days inside your heart.
You gasp as his hands creep under your shirt and trail along your lower back, though he doesn’t wander. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring eagerly.
You tilt forward, answering his devotion with an equal eagerness. In your distraction, your hands slide from their hold on his shirt and travel until your fingertips meet behind his nape.
This goes for a while before a sudden splash from the waters below you makes you jump apart, though still very much physically attached. His arms were still tightly wound around your waist.
“I think that’s a sign we should stop for now.”
“Yeah, definitely.”
Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. Although you would like to have another one of your dreams to come true, you want to take it slow. The idea that he thought of you as you did to him has still not truly sunk into your mind.
Even now as he leans his face slightly towards yours again and begins to leave soft, tender kisses all over your cheek, making butterflies appear in your stomach.
“Gods, I just realised something.” You laugh all of a sudden, making him stand up straight to look at you curiously. “What is it?”
“I just made Ron win a bet for the first time since we all became friends.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he was the first person to tease me about these stupid dreams–”
“Excuse me, I rather think it’s not.” He interrupts playfully raising an eyebrow. “Shush.”
“Anyways,” You continue, “Harry and Hermione initially thought it was nothing and that it probably would stop after a while— obviously not. So Ron set a bet that I’ll end up having feelings for you or we’ll end up together.”
He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m still surprised they didn’t hate the idea. With us being in literal houses that hate each other.”  
“They’re only annoyed at some of you, honestly. The ones that perpetuate the ‘Slytherin’ motto too much.” 
"Plus," he continued, the joking tone in his voice fading a bit, "even if they did have complaints, I would have ignored every single one and still pursued you."
“As if! You stormed to Hogsmeade just to interrupt our ‘date’ and you wouldn’t even admit it. If it weren’t for what our friends did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Let me pretend, for goodness’ sake woman!”
His playful exasperation brought a genuine smile to your face, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade as you got lost in the playful banter you're used to with him.
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neckromantics · 5 months
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Has anyone thought about how good Astarion would be at playing dead? Imagine the untapped potential?? The opportunities to just absolutely fuck with people?
No one would even need to expend a spell slot on feign death or anything. He could just lie down, hold his breath, and wait for a target to walk by and wonder "wait, what's this dead guy doing here?" and then WHAM! DAGGER TO YOUR ARTERY, LOSER.
The way you'd have to do your best to keep it together when he's lying there in the most dramatic of fashions. I just know if you ask this man to play dead (and he's in the rare mood to say yes) he is going to COMMIT. Limbs unnaturally askew like a ragdoll. Vacant staring (how does he get his pupils to dilate like that?). Maybe a bit of tongue hanging out if the mood strikes. It'd be a little eerie to see him like that if it also wasn't so damn funny.
The last time he went along with your silly little plans, it almost went terribly wrong.
In a rather strange turn of events, a small group of children find him before the target can. You take a chance and stay in your hiding place, silently willing these poor kids to go back to wherever they came from before your vampire loses his patience and does something rash...
The way one of the children immediately grabs the nearest stick and starts poking at Astarion. Vigorously. They're not even gentle, either. It's almost like they're hoping candy will spill out somewhere if they're aggressive enough. You can only watch as this goes on for a good minute or two (i mean you could have stopped them in hindsight, but part of you really wanted to see what would happen if you didn't.) before he finally snaps.
The vampire sits up quick as a wink, lips pulled back to expose his bloodied fangs (that absolute jerk bit the inside of his cheek till it bled just to appear more frightening), hands more like claws as he feigns swiping at one of their ankles. The snarl he lets out is so devious it makes the hairs on your arm stand on end. The kids all turn tail, wails high-pitched to an earsplitting degree as they trip over each other in their scramble to get away.
The smug grin on Astarion's handsome face should not be as endearing as it is as he watches them leave. After a moment, he straightens out his clothes a bit and readjusts his position on the ground, then proceeds to get right back to playing the part of a perfect, pretty corpse.
Not before he chucks that stick the kids were using to torment him in the direction of your stifled laughter as a clear "fuck you" for not helping him, though.
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tsireyasluvr · 5 months
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Sweetness
Lo’ak x Metkayina!reader
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Authors note: I meant to make this short and sweet but got way carried away😭 hope you guys enjoy this tho! <3 word count: 4k+
Summary: Neteyams death inevitably changed Lo’ak, making him colder and harsher around you than ever before. He shut everyone around him out, but you being the sweet and soft girl of the village made you want to help him get out of his slump. And you did help, just not in the way you might’ve expected.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, porn with plot, angst, comfort, mentions of death, mentions of blood, substance use, alcohol, aged up Lo’ak, dom Lo’ak, mean Lo’ak, innocent reader, praises, brief oral, fingering, drunk sex, grinding, whining, virgin reader, first time (p in v)
Lo’ak struggled with Neteyams death, that couldn’t be more clear to anyone. The entire Sully family had faced their struggles surrounding the older boy’s death, but they had slowly made peace with it. Lo’ak however, wasn’t even close.
He never got over the feeling of it being his fault. He’s the one who pushed Neteyam to save Spider, the one who couldn’t just let things sit and chase after his own family instead. He wanted to save his friend, and in return, he got his brother killed. Lo’ak felt like even more of a failure than before, like he deserved to be treated like an outcast after having his beloved older brother killed.
He’s chosen to ignore his family and friends, ditching his siblings to get drunk and wallow in his sorrows at whatever private place he could find. Really he wasn’t picky, just as long as people would stop bothering him already. He was sick of the looks he’d get from his own family, the bits of pity accompanied by disgust from the rest of the Metkayina clan. 
Never you though. You cared for him, and truth be told you had a bit of a reputation around the clan for being the soft and kind, almost “innocent” cousin of Tsireya and Ao’nung. You were opposite to Lo’ak, never really one to step out of line or do anything that might anger the elders. you didn’t see much of a reason to. You’ve always had a soft spot for the younger Sully boy, mesmerized by how quick he adapted to the way of water, how much effort he put in despite his body not being built for it. He was passionate, rebellious by nature sure, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t found it charming. And as his learning went on, you enjoyed occasionally helping to teach him and his siblings, especially when you got to have a few private sessions with him. You were building a friendship, maybe even a small crush arising within you. All right before the tragic death on those rocks. 
You’d see Lo’ak wandering around the village at times, but only really to get his hands on food and whatever alcohol he could get, before he’d disappear again. Into the palm trees, to a separated beach, maybe a clearing near a cave. Those were just a few of your guesses. 
It bothered you. He was once a fiery, determined ball of energy, never taking anyone’s shit and trusting himself to do what felt right. Yet now, he was always alone and hiding. You couldn’t help but frown and worry. So one night, you see him again, walking through the sand in the general direction of what you assumed was the cove, a bottle clearly in hand. Feeling a little brave, you decided to follow him. 
Lo’ak had sat down on a smooth stone ledge overlooking the water. The sun had already set, making your tanhi glow along your soft skin while the moon lit up the scene around you. You timidly walked over to him, sitting down beside him but a little further from the edge with your legs crossed. Neteyam and Lo’ak were the only ones you’ve ever told about your fear of heights. It was something you always thought was a little embarrassing, and they forced the confession out of you when you refused to join them on a ride on Neteyams ikran. You can’t help but feel a little guilty passing that up now. 
Lo’aks gaze was cold, his face showing little emotion while he started out into the water. His eyes had been bloodshot, from the alcohol or lack of sleep you didn’t know, but it was a sight that made your stomach churn either way. You glanced down to his lap, seeing the now half-empty bottle sat between his legs. 
His thoughts were looming over his head, the alcohol doing little to settle the pit in his stomach. That night was all he could ever think about. The pained scream of his mother, the hurtful “you’ve done enough” his father had muttered, feeling Neteyams heart stop beating underneath his palms, his hands wet with his brothers blood-
“Lo’ak?” Your quiet, velvety soft voice broke the silence. You looked up at him with your big green eyes, your lip permanently a little pouty as the cold breeze blew through your curly hair. “Hm?” He grunted, not really looking in your directed as he took another swig from the bottle. You swallowed thickly, before asking your question. 
“Can I stay for a little?” Your voice sounds almost nervous, like he’d snap or bite at you if you pissed him off. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated at this, taking a deep breath to settle his emotions. He turned to look at you, his vivid amber eyes faded into something more dull. “Actually, y/n, I kind of came here to be alone.” 
You huffed out a breath, trying not to let the rejection get to you once he turns away again. Instead, you sit a little closer, letting your feet dangle off the edge as your heart starts racing in your chest. He cocked a brow at this, surprised that the village good girl didn’t listen for once. That, and the fact that he knew how scared you were of heights. Wether he’d want to admit it or not, Lo’ak had always noticed you tried to make everything better, even when it seemed impossible.
“People are worried, you know” You say quietly, your voice less shaky now that you managed to calm your heartbeat, trying to focus on him and the sound of the waves rather than how high you were up on these cliffs. “I don’t care, y/n” He scoffed, sipping on the bottle again, hardly feeling the liquid burn his throat anymore. 
You furrowed your brows at that, looking at the side of his face again as you spoke. “I know that’s not true, Lo’ak. You’ve never been careless. I understand you’re hurting, you have every right to, but-“ 
He cut you off with a scowl, turning his head towards you “Oh, do i? Because according to my father, I’m the one who got us all into this mess. You say everyone is worried, but who exactly is everyone, y/n? Because it sure as hell isn’t my family, and your clan has hated me from the fucking start.” He practically snarled, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at you.
You looked at him helplessly, feeling yet another tinge of anxiety from his yelling, but knowing deep down it wasn’t meant to be directed at you. Lo’ak stood from his spot, rubbing his face with his hand, and that’s when you smell the wave of alcohol coming from his form. 
“Just.. just go away, y/n. I really don’t need this right now” He leaned against the cliff wall, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he waited for you to get up and go. 
You stood, trying to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. Truth be told, you weren’t really used to having anyone yell at you. You’ve never stepped out of line or disobeyed orders, no one’s ever had a reason to try and punish or intimidate you. You wondered if it may have you come across as weak, or fragile. Two things that you very much were not, regardless of how soft you may be. 
“Lo’ak, please” You say, trying to stand your ground. “Please just let me stay. I won’t- I won’t try to force you to talk about it anymore, I promise. I’m just worried about you” You pleaded, the breeze becoming more harsh as you felt shivers go up your arms.
He clenched his jaw, something inside him stopping himself from believing that you had good intentions. “why?” He uncrossed his arms, scoffing as he stood up straight in front of you. “Why are you so fucking worried, y/n?” His voice sounded almost taunting, and you couldn’t figure out why.
“Because you’re never around the village anymore. You’re grieving, and I think-“ He cut you off once again.
“What? That you can fix me? Take me on a special project for your healer training maybe? You realize some herbs and spices can’t make this all go away, right? Sorry I can’t help you crawl further up Ronals ass with your little strive for perfection, y/n, but it just so looks like I’m a problem this clan can’t shake” He growls, every word feeling almost like a dagger to your heart. 
“You’re not a problem, Lo’ak” You say gently, trying to keep the calm attitude for him. “I don’t see you as one, I never have. I see so much greatness in you-“ 
“Save the fucking speech, y/n-“
“Will you just let me talk!” 
“…”
You had snapped, tears freely falling down your cheeks now. “Stop treating me like I don’t have feelings! Or like- like you don’t know me! We were friends before all this, you know how much I cared for you, how much i still care for you. It doesn’t matter if every single person in this clan hated you, I care and I worry! And it sucks to see you like this, constant bottle in your hand and the energy and joy completely sucked out of you. It sucks that you walk by me like I don’t matter, that you never talk to me anymore and that you’re always on something. I can’t handle it, and it breaks my heart, so excuse me if I come here to check on you because Im worried!”  
He swallowed hard, taking aback by your outburst but trying not to show it. He felt the guilt slowly creep up his skin, watching your shoulders shake with sobs as you let out a much quieter “I worry”, repeating yourself so helplessly. Lo’aks eyes flicked away for a moment before returning to yours. “You shouldn’t” He muttered out, his voice rough as he reached out a hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks.
“I can’t help it” You whisper, sniffling as your lip quivered, your eyes now glossy as you looked up at him. His hand on your cheek made you feel the tiniest spark of comfort. He smiled a little at that, the first almost warm expression you’ve seen on his face in weeks if not months. “Hm, I guess you can’t.”
Lo’ak cupped your face with his free hand, the other still holding the bottle you so desperately wanted to grab and throw over the cliff. He brushed his thumb softly against your cheek, looking into your teary eyes as his heart beat faster. “If you keep getting involved with me like this, you’re going to get hurt, y/n. I think I might have a bit of curse on me” He tried to joke, but you saw past the slight smile.
“Then we’ll let that be my lesson” you say sternly, reaching a delicate hand to hold onto his wrist as you stayed close to him. “Alright, fine. You win, princess” He sighed, before letting go of you and moving back down to where he was sitting, looking back at you as an unspoken invitation to join him. 
you padded over to where he was, shivering slightly as the night wore on, the stone cold against your skin. His eyes were on you, seeing the shiver on your skin from the cold as you tugged a little on the sheer sleeves from the woven top you wore. 
“You cold?” He asked, observing your shivering form. You looked at him, shrugging a little, trying not to seem needy or like you were disturbing the newfound peace. He smirked a little, offering you the nearly empty bottle. 
You made a face at that. “No thanks. I’m not much for drinking” you look back down at your lap, fiddling with the little pearls hanging from your loincloth. 
“Have you ever tried it?” He asked, not necessarily pushing, but definitely holding a teasing tone over you. You shook your head no.
He leaned back, snickering a little bit as he closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze on his flushed skin. “Fuck..” He muttered under his breath, opening his eyes to quickly look at you before focusing back on the water beneath them.
“what?” you ask, furrowing your brows in slight confusion. “you’re just so fucking innocent. Like, shielded or something” He smirked, shaking his head slightly. You scoffed a little at that, your lips pouty again. “what, so now i’m not interesting because I haven’t had any messed up traumatic stories?” you crossed your arms as you looked at him. 
“Never said that” He replied, still not looking at you. “Then what are you trying to imply with that?” He licked his teeth before looking at you with another smirk, his fangs momentarily on display. “You’re too trusting. Always looking out for everyone else’s well-being before your own. You walk around like some sort of Angel, y/n.” He used a human term, something he did often. You knew one of the few things he bonded over with his dad was studying the language. 
“You say that like it’s an insult” You quip back, rubbing your arms for warmth. “Because it is.” He replied, eyes scanning over you. “You’re so naive sometimes that it hurts just looking at. Letting people walk all over you. You deserve better than everything that’s been surrounding us.” 
You tried not to let his words bother you, but he really could be so mean sometimes, wether it was intentional or not. Your eyes drift down to the bottle in his lap, feeling a sudden impulse within you as you reach out your hand for it. “give me that” 
“what?” he raised a brow, looking at you with a mix of surprise and amusement. “you want a drink?” 
“Yes, I do. Now are you gonna share or am I too innocent for even a sip?” you say, your look unwavering. 
“Well then” He chuckled, passing the bottle over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Go on then. Take a sip.”
You continued holding eye contact with him as you bring the cold bottle to your plump, pink lips, taking a swig before grimacing at the taste, a drop trickling down your chin. “Eywa” you muttered under your breath, the liquid leaving a terrible burn down your throat.
“Fuck, you’re cute” He said, reaching out to wipe off the droplet and licking it off his thumb. A small smile played on his lips. “don’t ever get used to that shit”
“What? It’s totally fine! I hardly even tasted it” You try to assure, taking another sip before practically gagging as the liquid hit your tongue
“yeah, you’re a fucking liar” He laughed softly, reaching out to take the bottle back from you. “we should’ve gotten you something nicer as a first taste. I would’ve mixed it up with that coconut water shit you like” He screwed the lid back on after finishing off the last bit of the bottle. 
“you know, you swear a lot” you say, your voice a little more wavered now with the alcohol. He turned away from you, trying not to break into a grin at the slight slurring of your voice. “And alcohol is gross. I stand by what I said earlier” you say, crossing your arms as if to prove a point.
“Good” He replied, smiling at you as he turned his body more to face you, sitting a little closer as he felt the alcohol in his system too, allowing him to feel more comfortable and less of the constant dread and anxiety in his stomach. “Means you’re not used to it.”
“Course I’m not used to it! You said it yourself I’m all naive and innocent” you say in a mocking tone, rolling your eyes at that. He broke into another snicker at that. “you’re so fucking cute when you’re drunk” He whispered, chuckling softly as he leaned in closer to you, his breath fanning across your cheek. “You know, Ive always kinda wanted to see you like this”
You giggle a little, your cheeks flushing from both the alcohol and his comment. “what? drunk?” You ask, lazily tilting your head to look straight at him, your curls becoming messier from the breeze, a few stray pieces falling over your eyes. “Yeah” He laughed, brushing a lock of hair away from your blushing cheek. “mm sounds like you might have a bit of a corruption kink, Lo” you teased, surprising both of you with your unusually bold words.
“Maybe you’re not so wrong about that” He confessed, half joking before continuing “I guess I have a bit of a thing for girls like you. All sweet and gentle. Or more like.. just you” his face has gone a little more serious, looking over your features with an almost predatory gaze.
“and here I thought you were asking me to stay away” you lightly tease, acting like his words from earlier didn’t have an effect on you. “I did, and I meant it. You’re too good for me” He leaned down, his lips almost hovering above yours. “But it’s hard to stay true to that, when you’re sat all cute and flustered ‘cause of me”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden close proximity, leaning in closer to him as you look up at him with that same wide-eyed look that drove him crazy, your lips plump and slightly wet from the alcohol still. “i’m tired of you pushing me away because you think it’s the right thing to do, Lo’ak. S’annoying” you drunkenly mumble, trying to keep yourself from getting too dizzy.
“Well, fuck.” He cursed under his breath, his eyes trailing down to your lips as he gave into the temptation. “maybe it’s time I stop pushing you away then” he whispered, before leaning down to capture your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. You smile against his lips, feeling your chest bubble with excitement as your dainty fingertips come to rest on his chest. 
You pulled back a little, a smile on your face as you leaned your forehead against his. “Am i making you feel better?” you ask, prompting him to let out a laugh. “that’s what you’re thinking about?” He teased, leaning in to give you another quick peck. “yeah, sweetness, you’re making me feel better” He murmured, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, his other hand burying itself in your curls as he deepened the kiss.
“you taste so god damn sweet, y/n” he groaned, his tongue licking its way into your mouth, practically moaning at the flavour of your lips. You whimpered at his words, desperately trying to keep up with him, shifting til you’re practically in his lap. 
Reluctantly, he pulls away and breaks the kiss, gazing down at you with pure lust and adoration in his golden eyes. “You ever let anyone touch you?” he breathed out, his hand holding you close by the back of your neck, your palms still resting on his chest for stability as you shook your head no. “Good” He grinned, his fangs on display as he reached up your back to untie the strings holding your top together.
As he revealed more of your skin, his touch became more possessive and hungry. “i’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” he growled against your skin, dipping his head down to lick and suck at your neck, tilting your jaw back with his hand to have better access. “you believe me?” 
“yes, Lo’ak” you breathed out, your skin feeling hot as you trailed a hand to fist his braided hair. “That’s my girl” he mumbled, his hand moving up to cup your breast, squeezing roughly at the flesh as you let out a whimper. “So fuckin perfect for me” 
You moaned softly at the praises, enjoying the feel of his hands on your body as you cup his face and bring his lips back up to yours, desperate to taste him again. He shoved his tongue in your mouth, his hand creeping down your back before untying the strings holding your loincloth together. “lift your hips for me, mama” he murmured against your lips, instantly taking it off and flinging it away once you did. He slowly slid his hand up your thigh, teasingly running his fingers through your folds before letting out a groan. “Eywa, you’re so wet for me”
you gasp softly at the feel of his fingers, leaning your forehead against his as he probed at your opening, before shoving two fingers in, drawing out a yelp from you. “Lo’ak!” you squeal, closing your eyes in pleasure. “fuck, do that again, sweet girl” he groaned, plunging his fingers in and out of you, desperate to hear more of your pretty noises.
you whined and clawed at his shoulders, not used to the feeling of someone else touching you there, soaking it all in as your walls fluttered against his digits. he curled his fingers inside you, watching you nearly unravel in front of him before adding his thumb to rub quick circles into your clit. “oh! Lo’ak! L-Lo! f-fuck!” he smirked as you cursed, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He thrusted his fingers deeper, pushing faster, seeking out your sweet spot before massaging it with every thrust. You whimpered when you felt his fingertips grazing the spongy spot inside you. 
 “that’s it mama. gonna cum for me?” He sucked a bruise in your neck, his fangs grazing the skin as he resisted the urge to properly mark you here and now. 
“y-yes! mhm!” You moaned, your pussy tightening around his fingers before you let go, crying out his name as you hide your face in his neck.
He slowly pulled his fingers out, shushing your whimpers before flipping you over, your bodies still dangerously close to the ledge, which suddenly just added to thrill of it for you. His breath was heavy as he leaned back down to kiss you, his arm resting on the ground beside your face, almost shielding you in while his other makes quick work to untie his cloth and throw is aside. You looked at him with a dazed expression, taking the time to admire his face and features, feeling your heart skip a beat when his eyes met yours again. 
He smiled down at you, brushing his thumb over your lip sweetly, but it seemed like you had other ideas. Your pink tongue darted out to lick the digit and take it in your mouth, making his dick instantly harder, if that was even possible. He groaned at the feeling, beginning to grind his hips against yours, his cock freely gliding through your folds. “Fuck, mama, you’re making it hard to think straight” he cursed, looking down at your wet pussy dripping slick all over him. 
“Then don’t” You whined, squirming slightly beneath him from the teasing, feeling your arousal grow as you looked up at him with a pleading expression. “Lo’ak, please.” You whispered, bringing your hands up to wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed sweet kisses along his face, a contrast to the sinful acts you were doing. 
Taking your pleas as a sign of consent, he lined himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly as he let out a growl at your tightness. “Oh, fuck!” He groaned, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. “fuck mama, you’re so tight. This pussy was made f’me” He pushed himself all the way in, lifting his head back up to look at your face, a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. you had a look of pure bliss on your face, your eyes screwed shut as you adjust to his size, unintentionally holding your breath.
“breathe for me, baby. breathe” He whispered, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before he began to slowly rock his hips into yours. “Lo’ak” you whimpered, clawing at his shoulders. “I know. S’okay, i’ve got you.” he groaned, his voice low, making you feel more butterflies in your stomach as you listened to every word he spoke. “feels so good” you whine out, panting against his lips. He smiled at you, kissing you hotly before pulling away again, looking down to where you were connected.
He couldn’t help but moan at the sight, speeding up his thrusts as he rutted against you, watching your pussy clamp down on him. “Eywa, you’re such a sight” he grunted, looking up at your face as he pushed his cock deeper inside of you, watching your jaw drop out of pleasure. “gonna keep the mental image of you like this forever, princess. all fucked out like this, all ‘cause of me” He dipped his head back down to your neck, trailing kisses down your collarbones and lower, squeezing your breast with his hand while beginning to lap at it with his tongue.
you couldn’t respond, hardly thinking as he fucked every thought out of you, your back arching off the ground as you whined and moaned, clinging to him as he pounded into your pussy. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he took clear control. “Taking it so well for me, sweet girl” 
He angled his hips in a way to hit your sweet spot again, letting go of your nipple with a pop as he moved to the other one, leaving light bite marks along it.
“L-Lo’ak, m’close” you whimper, your eyes still screwed shut as you feel his tongue licking and tracing at your breasts, your chest covered in bite marks. “yeah? let me feel it. cum f’me, cum all over me. be a good girl” he muttered the filth against your skin, trailing his tongue back up to your neck, his fangs grazing over it again as he planned out the spot to mark you. “wanna feel you shake against me, y/n. all around my dick. you won’t let me down, yeah?” He whispered in your ear, thrusting faster as he felt his abdomen tighten, knowing he was close but holding back til he got you there first.
“mm y-yes, yes Lo” you breathed out, whining and gasping as you felt your thighs shake, your pussy tightening around him before you reached your high, tightening your legs around his waist “ohhh fuuuuck!” you cry out, not caring about how loud you were being as he fucked you through it.
“shit! fuck, mama, where do you want it?” he strained, biting his bottom lip to try and hold back as his hips sputtered. you looked up at him, your lips swollen from his kisses and face slightly dewy as you open your mouth, indicating it for him. “Eywa, help me” he muttered, groaning at the implication as he traced your perfect lips with his finger before pressing a rough kiss to them. 
Once he was on the verge of climax, he quickly pulled out, cupping your face with a shaky hand as you sat up on your knees for him. He aligned his dick to rest on your lips as he pumped his cock, before throwing his head back and cumming in your mouth with a groan. His hand brushed through your hair, looking down at you before pulling his hips away from you and kneeling down with you, his free hand still cupping your cheek. He wiped the little dribble of his cum off your lip, smiling at you adoringly, whispering “so fucking pretty” before leaning in to kiss you again. 
you hum contently, smiling once he pulls away. you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, making him let out a laugh at your sweetness even after doing something so filthy. “c’mere” he murmurs, leaning back against the cliff wall as he raises his arm for you. you crawl over, laying down on his chest and nuzzling into him with your face in his neck, closing your eyes as you listen to the sound of the waves below you. 
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luveline · 15 days
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If you're taking request for Spencer and Bombshell!reader I think it would be so incredibly adorable if they were both on the way to a case (or coming back) and their little baby Amanda was face timing them to say hi to them and the team 🥺🥺
“Video call for you, momma,” Penelope says, plonking a laptop down onto the desk in front of you, and then quickly being called away by Emily for help.
You ditch your pen immediately, nail scratching the laptop trackpad as you slide the cursor to ACCEPT. 
Amanda’s face fills the screen, a shy smile like her dad’s close to the camera, her eyes almost cut off by the top of the screen. 
“Amy, babe, you’re too close to the computer! I can’t see your lovely face.” 
Amy sits back in her chair. “Is this okay?” 
You take her in. You trust your babysitter to take good care of her, but nothing is as reassuring as seeing her unhurt and smiling. “Hi, baby.” 
“Hi mommy,” she greets. “Where’s daddy?” 
“He’s in the bathroom. Be back any minute. Are you being a good girl for Mrs. Gamorrah? How’s your tummy?” 
“I’m being good,” she says, ignoring the important question, “did you see my t-shirt?” She brings her shirt closer to the camera. She’s wearing her favourite pyjamas with the butterflies she had for her birthday, “Look, Mrs. Gamorrah got the soup stain gone.” 
You beam at her. You miss her like crazy when you’re not there. You and Spencer take turns staying home most of the time, and so being apart from her and knowing she doesn’t have Spencer to soften your absence makes it easier to worry about her, and harder to concentrate on the work. 
The door opens. You twist your head. 
Spencer’s drying his hands on a paper towel. “Is that Amy?” 
“Quick, she wants to see you.” 
Spencer hurries to the laptop, bending at the waist to see the screen and his impatient daughter. 
“Amy!” he says, like she’s the only person he’s ever wanted to see, voice enthused with his most dad-appropriate saccharine. “Hi, bunny, hi, hello. I miss you so much, are you okay? I miss you.” 
You tap his leg gently. Calm down. 
“Daddy, I am so happy, and I miss you too! We’re doing pictures.” She holds up a sheet of paper covered in crayon drawings. “Are you okay too?” 
“I’m great now I’m seeing you. I really miss you, sweetheart, I’m sorry we’re both away at work.” 
“It’s okay. Me and Mrs. Gamorrah are gonna have pizza and jiffy pop and soda tonight. It would be good with you, but it’s still fun.” 
“That’s good,” you say, putting your hand on the keys, wishing you could feel her soft arm in your hand, stroke her silken forehead. “We’re gonna be home soon. Maybe even tomorrow.” 
Spencer wraps his arm behind your shoulder. “Me and mom miss you so so much, and we’re so proud of you being a good girl at home. We’re gonna bring you a big present for being by yourself.” 
“I’m not by myself, dad, I have Mrs. Gamorrah. Plus, Uncle Morgan said he wants to take me and Hank swimming on Sunday.” 
“I’m sure we’ll be home before Sunday.” You smother your frown. Spencer kisses your cheek. 
“Give one for me, dad!” 
Spencer kisses you again. “That one good enough?” he asks. 
“Another one!” 
When you get home, you’re gonna spoil the death out of her. Like, worse than you’ve ever spoiled her before. Spencer presses another great kiss to your cheek and smushes your faces together, Amy on the screen reaching for you both for a ghost hug. “I wanted to say hi before we go to the store. Can I call you again before bed?” 
“Yeah, baby, call again!” You rush to answer. “Call daddy’s phone, okay? Mine’s not working right. I’ll answer you, we’ll talk all about your day. Okay? I miss you very much.” 
“I miss you too. Bye bye.” 
“Okay, bye bye,” you say, “I love you.” 
“Love you, Amanda,” Spencer says. 
She waves her little hand until it looks like it might fall off of her wrist. Spencer waves back just as hard.
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