#( shadow what is this situation you have gotten yourself in )

[somewhereinchaos]

@scumbag-the-hedgehog: ❛ thought you’d be lighter without all that blood. ❜

          ╳ ┊ u l t i m a t e  »  Well, his head feels a lot lighter, but that is probably due to the amount of blood he's lost. The black and ( very ) red hedgehog's vision blurs and distorts intoxicatingly as his brain struggles to interpret what's going on around him. It doesn't make sense. Who is this annoyance anyway? ".. Very funny. Now get the hell away from me." Even though his mind or body wouldn't listen to him, Shadow's voice would always retain its edge. It's almost like the situation wasn't alarming at all. "Or I'll bash in your skull too."

[scientia-rex]

When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”

He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)

I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.

What is your objective?

Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.

I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.

I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.

Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.

Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.

How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?

Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.

Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?

[cloudcountry]

since you guys liked my idea so much here it is: WAYS THE NRC BOYS WOULD MAKE YOU WORSE

reader's personality is based more off of in-game yuu than anything? this set of hcs is a bunch of hypotheticals basically. this can be read as platonic or romantic idk each guy is written as if they are the closest person to you, friends or otherwise.

IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT

mentally preparing myself for the "i wouldnt do that!!!!!" comments...and post.

Riddle increases your attentiveness to the rules tenfold. No matter how meek you are, he makes your voice strong—and oh boy does it carry. You’re yelling at people for running in the halls, chastising them for not doing their homework, and opening your mouth wider when you speak. For a school full of troublemakers like Night Raven, the entire student body is so disappointed there’s another Riddle.

Trey makes you more passive, less likely to speak up when you see something. He’s always stood back in the shadows, watching over everything without saying a word, and it’s seeped into your personality, too. You’re spineless now. This world is unfamiliar, why should you try to do anything? You’d only stand out. You don’t want to be outstanding. You want to be as normal as possible. So you stand back.

Cater gets you wrapped up in the hype of social media. It started out as a way to indulge his interests but now you’re on Magicam all day, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. You send things to your friends and say “hey, we should do this” but never make any actual effort to connect with them outside of that. You fall easier into jealousy because you’re surrounded by glamor.

Deuce makes you reckless. He’s so willing to throw himself into things and it spurs you to do the same, no matter how many times your teachers or potential upperclassmen tell you not to. You can’t hear anything but Deuce and his yelling, his enthusiasm and terror for whichever situation you two find yourselves in, knowing that you’d follow him anywhere.

Ace makes you all the more prickly, your sharp jabs and irritating smugness a product of spending too much time with him. You two are two peas in a pod, but to an outsider you two just seem...irritating. You have a talent for getting under people’s skin and have definitely gotten better at lying.

Leona thinks its so cute how you try to defend him at every twist and turn. Like no, he is as dastardly as everyone is saying. Why are you trying to deny it? You’re suddenly seeing reason in the most massive ego-ed people this side of Sage Island and Leona honestly doesn’t know if he should be concerned for you or be amused because of you. (This one in particular was inspired by @loser-jpg LMAO)

Ruggie could have made you prioritize yourself more, but you think he took it a bit too far. See, now you’re snatching cafeteria items and worksheets right under people’s noses, giggling as they demand you give it back. Sometimes they don’t even notice you, but even if they did you’ve learned how to be lighter on your feet.

Jack and you are incredibly uncooperative people (unless you owe someone, of course.) He’s guided you away from asking for help, insisting that the people here will take advantage of you then turning around to say that he doesn’t care, he just doesn't want to get wrapped up in your mess. It’s like you can’t trust anyone but him and your Heartslabyul friends anymore.

Azul has given you one nasty sense of perception, allowing you to key into every little detail and find loopholes in the things people say in a second. He’s turned you into a deadly asset, one he treasures just as much as the student body fears. You read over his contracts and point out what you would do to get out of them, and he adjusts accordingly. What a fine team you two make!

Jade makes it clear that his morals are less than savory, and will often encourage you to partake in things you really shouldn't. You rationalize it as Jade helping you go after the things you want, to finally take and take and take from people when you’ve been so selfless all your life, because it's what you deserve isn’t it?

Floyd will often rope you into his schemes, and it's not wrong before you start doing the same. Once a model student, attending every class, you now skip class and watch with amusement as Floyd threatens another student, hiding your smile behind your hand. They may plead for your assistance, but who are you to stop Floyd? This poor soul clearly owed something.

Kalim instills you with a sense of jealousy and helplessness. He has money to solve all of his problems, his life must be so easy. You’ve lived through so many overblots and received no help from anyone, but Kalim has always been so kind and generous to you. It makes you resent him a little, and anyone else who tries to help, because they all have things that you don’t and that's just not fair.

Jamil twists and bends your mind so much that you can do the very same thing to others. You’ve caught onto his little game and he knows it, eyeing you with anticipation whenever you speak in the same honeyed tone he uses when he wants something. You’ve gotten scarily good at hiding it too, shooting him a smug grin because you know he knows, but nobody else does.

Vil brings out so much confidence in your abilities it’s borderline arrogance. You know you’re capable, so why doesn’t everyone just let you handle this? You can do it, they can’t. So they should just step aside. You’re not doing it to be mean, so why are they getting so annoyed at you? You’re just better.

Rook has some eccentricities, and you’re well aware of them. They put you off at first, but now you’re used to him. It just seems normal now. You’re not sure why everyone makes such a big deal out of his tendencies, that’s just how he is. He’ll stalk you, hunt you down, but he’s having fun! Don’t spoil it for him!

Epel is actually the perfect fit for NRC, you think. He’s a troublemaker, he’s stubborn, and he’s so, so angry. But he’s right! Why should you respect people who claim to be above you? It’s so irritating that they walk around with those annoying smirks on their faces. You two should do something about that, don’t you think?

Idia has a very specific way of talking that can not only be confusing, but can also irritate the hell out of people. Of all things you could pick up from him, you picked up his smug jabs and insults, accompanied by a tooth grin and a laugh. It’s unnerving how much he’s rubbed off on you, a true testament to how close you too are much to the chagrin of the rest of NRC.

Malleus finds so much delight in being your bodyguard, your most trusted companion, that he doesn’t even bat an eye when you use his magic for your own gain. You’ve gotten soft, molding to whatever shape Malleus wants you to be just so he won’t leave. You’re helpless without him, only he has the will and the magic to protect you. So won’t he please stay?

Lilia has a way of dodging the truth, putting a smile on his face even when he’s hurting. It makes you think that, if he can do that, why can’t you? Lilia is smart, he knows how to go about life, so you should follow his lead and bury your problems until they’ll never see the light again.

Sebek has done nothing but berate you for being human since you met him, and even if you’ve gotten closer to him over the course of your stay in Twisted Wonderland, you’re starting to think he’s right. If you had magic, if you weren’t human, you’d be more powerful. It’s a fact. You could do so much more if you weren’t so weak.

Silver has made you complacent. He takes each step carefully, protecting both you and Malleus, so why would you need to protect yourself in any capacity? It’s so nice, having this safety net. If you could, you'd rely on Silver forever, never facing the cruel realities of the world that are blocked by his strong arms.

[lilacxquartz]

Can you write a homicipher fic with Mr crawling where Mc is deep cleaning their apartment and he's confused on what exactly they're doing and just like doing domestic stuff? Thank you!💜💜💜

in an attempt to clean;

mr. crawling x reader/mc

plot: you do all sorts of curious things but mr. crawling still can’t quite understand some behaviours — a/n: i hooope this is what you wanted!! like my mind ran with mr. crawling perhaps being sentimental about the stuff you cleaned up, so i went with it, aha, mc is in the real world here and mr. crawling is like, a live-in guard ghost — themes: gn!reader, domestic fluff, character study — w.c: 1.1k • ao3 • masterlist ✮⋆˙

Even if he didn’t quite understand the order of the world that you came from, Mr. Crawling still tried his very best to adapt to you and your way of living. He was perfectly happy just living in your home and existing within your space, finding every nook and cranny to be deeply fascinating. Every other surface had a hint of your scent, with other places, like the bedroom, signaling your once lingering presence—like a signature.

He traced around the areas where such things were left behind, from empty bowls from where you had breakfast to where your dirty laundry was thrown off to the side after a long day. This often led you to pause and tilt your head at such odd behaviour, but you also didn’t quite mind. He did many odd things, after all, such as hovering around in the corners of your home, watching you from a distance while you worked on… whatever it was that needed doing.

Had this been any other situation, you would have probably tried to flush him away with the help of a local shaman, but it was all fine. You brought him back with you for a reason. He wasn’t malicious at all, at least not to you. If anything, he was a little like a guard ghost—determined to keep you safe—no matter what.

However, at some point, too much of your ‘presence’ was left behind and you had to talk yourself into committing to a deep clean. You had admittedly put it off for his sake, finding his almost, enticed state of wonder to be endearing, but a clean space meant a clean mind, or however the saying went.

And things had to go.

At a glance, the apartment was a complete mess. Dust clung to the walls and tables, and there were dirty socks in every other direction. Trash was also becoming something of a problem and for it to not get any worse than it already was—something had to be done—before it was past the point of no return.

Just as you were about to dive in towards fulfilling your task, however, you felt Mr. Crawling’s presence materialise right behind you like a sudden, looming shadow and sure enough, when you turned around, he was right behind you. He was now Mr. Standing more like, you internally tutted, given that he no longer took the liberty to pad around on his hands and knees anymore, instead filling out the whole stretch of room. From the floor to the ceiling, he made himself known.

“What… you… doing?” he asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion. He had his finger pointed towards the bin bag in your hand, seeming almost alarmed.

“Cleaning…?” you replied, demonstrating taking some trash from the coffee table and dropping it into the bag. As you did so, his hand flinched away and he seemed rather upset.

“Object… away?” he asked.

“Yes,” you nodded, quickly filling up the bag with more and more pieces of trash that were otherwise littering the surfaces, all the while he seemed to twitch at the very sight, as if he wanted for you to stop but wasn’t sure how to ask you of such a thing.

And before you could continue on your spree any further, Mr. Crawling took a step forward, confiscating an empty crisps packet right from your hands. In turn, you raised an eyebrow, jumping up to grab it from him, but he kept it purposefully out of your reach.

“Give it back,” you huffed, unsure what exactly has gotten into him.

“No,” he shook his head, his tone sounding rather petulant, “I keep.”

You blinked a couple of times, sounding exasperated. “W-why?”

“Treasure,” Mr. Crawling could only reply, clutching the piece of trash to his chest like it was the most sacred item.

You withdrew a deep sigh. Of course, Mr. Crawling had gained some sort of attachment from the things he saw you use. It was actually sort of oddly sweet if it didn’t have the possibility of attracting bugs and potentially growing mould.

“I’m not throwing everything away,” you tried to reason, gesturing at what got put into drawers and what didn’t, “just the trash, the…” you trailed off, trying to find an appropriate word that you both knew, “the dirt.”

Mr. Crawling hesitated, looking at the crisp packet in his hands. “D-dirt… bad?”

Finally, it clicked. At last! You were finally getting somewhere. Oh, how you loved to see him understand you. It was so rewarding, but also, you almost felt bad at just how upset he sounded, but it had to go. “Yes, very bad. Dirt makes… people… sick,” you tried to charade out next, performing a show of you clutching your stomach and looking nauseous.

“Sick?” he asked, trying to understand before looking even more alarmed than when he had first seen you pick up the trash to begin with. “Sick, bad! Sick, bad!”

Before you could respond however, he was in the process of obliterating that poor crisp packet into nothingness, so you warily had to approach him, pluck it right out of his wary hands, and mime out the rest of your intent. When you took hold of the package, you feigned sickness, and then when it entered the bag, you acted right as rain again. All healthy while looking very much alive.

At first, he was horrified at your display but then seemed to get the memo, glancing around at what could potentially make you sick and what was fine to hold onto and so, over the course of the next hour, you slowly but surely got through a deep cleaning session while he kept bringing you all sorts of objects—perhaps missing the memo as to what counted as clean and what counted as dirty—but at least you were finally, actually getting somewhere.

Things like broken mugs were brought to you, along with more empty packets and forgotten socks alike. Some things he was much more defensive about throwing away, but you let him keep the stuff that you were certain wouldn’t actually bring strange things into your home, like that torn and tatted baggy hoodie you had—he refused to let that one go.

“Why do you want to even… keep that?” you asked, watching him cosy up to the piece of clothing.

“Smells… you,” he gleefully replied, taking a deep whiff of the fabric before towering over you, repeating the motion against the crook of your neck, “smells… good.”

“Ah,” you smiled a little, not protesting a single bit, “yeah, you can keep that.”

You supposed that life with Mr. Crawling, after all this time, was still a messy sort of affair, but that much was fine. It was moments like these that made it all worthwhile, reminding you of why you wanted him to stay in the first place.

Even if it did mean that things took forever to get done now.

[morgue-friends]

happy new year!!!

would you be able to write a part two of maidens token where the reader attempts an escape and arrives at her village to see count or lol and her slaughtered village people

"A Maiden's Darkness" | Count Orlok x Female! Reader

Warnings: 18+, Count Orlok is his own warning, reader definitely has stock holm syndrome, death is mentioned, minor side character death, gore, sexual tension, dub-con, blood kink, marking, possessiveness, angst, hair pulling, penis in vagina sex, oral sex (M receiving), rough sex, you can't fix him so don't try sorry.

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness -" Your head hung low in shame, you were ailing with guilt and remorse. You had submitted to death, not once but twice. If there was a god, he'd never forgive the sins you've committed. No matter how many verses of the holy Bible you recited, there would be no salvation for you. You were tempted by the devil, and you conceded, you willed it.

Last night after he had left you, spared you even, to feed from the village and hide before the sun could rise he had unexpectedly returned to you instead. When he arrived you were still lying on the bed draped over with the blood-stained blanket and tears falling from your eyes. You looked over at him and gasped, his claws and mouth dripped with a deep red hue that foretold acts of violence. That same red color followed along the fur of his attire and led you to believe there had been more than one victim with the sheer amount. The stench of iron flooded your nose and you gagged, if you had eaten more than bread that night you probably would have heaved it all up on the bed below you.

Your stomach turned when the thought crossed your mind that it could be the blood of a child he was drenched in. It was revolting, disgusting, and still when he approached the bed you spread your legs for him like an eager whore. He disrobed and you two embraced each other that night once more, you submitted to death once more. The silver locket necklace he had stolen from you dropped to the floor along with his garments. You could remember vividly the way you laid there for him compliantly, moaning and mewling amongst the sounds of his skin against yours. Your thighs were held apart with each of his hands while his hips pounded you downward into the mattress. After he was satisfied he abandoned you once more, retreating to wherever it is he'd go during the day.

The sun sat high and bright in the sky and yet you could still feel his cold hands ghosting over your skin. Here you were now, sitting solemn and praying to a god that would never help you. If your mother were to see you right now she'd shake her head and tell you that you had gotten yourself into this situation and needed to get yourself out. So that's just what you'd do, the longer you stayed here the more you felt like you were losing your mind. His shadow was consuming your innocence and maybe even your soul. He may not have been manipulating you but it didn't feel reasonable for your body to respond the way it did to his. He carried a stench of death everywhere he went and when disrobed looked even more like a corpse than what you expected him to.

After getting dressed and eating the fresh apples he left you on the dining table for breakfast, you began plotting. If you weren't going to plot your escape from the castle then your mind would wander and think only of him, as if you were obsessed. To be fair all you've done these past two weeks is think of him. Where would he go after he fed from you? What was his first name? Why did he avoid coming out during the day? There were a hundred other questions you could ask yourself but you wouldn't get an answer to any of them. Anything he told you about himself was very vague or probably not even true.

You wasted an hour of daytime stumbling around the castle looking for anything that may help you with getting out, but every room was empty of usefulness and filled with standard furniture covered with cobwebs and dust. Weirdly enough you found the baggage that you had brought with you along with your paint supplies hidden behind a tall wooden cabinet. Why he hid your items was beyond you, but the clean dress, undergarments, and shoes were appreciated. You then returned to your bucket of drinking water and tried your hardest to wash off the thick layers of dried blood so they wouldn't soil your new clean dress. When he fed from you he was messy, often rubbing his face into your chest and smearing it around which made you feel repulsive. There were no mirrors anywhere in the castle so you weren't aware of how good of a job you did but it would have to do.

The heavy metal door of the castle opened slowly and flakes of snow began to nest on your shivering frame. The blood loss would make you more susceptible to dying from the cold but it seemed to be a better way out than succumbing to the darkness under the thumb of your captor. The hounds that seemed to accompany him everywhere slowly congregated around you while you trudged through the snow up to the gated entrance. As you exited none of the dogs attacked you, they just panted and stared at you in silence, there was no barking or growling to try to scare you back into the castle.

Nonetheless, their silence and unwillingness to follow you out felt like a bad omen. Like they were quietly telling you that if you leave this castle he will kill you. You weren't sure how far the village he fed from was but there was a glimmer of hope in your mind that you'd make it there and depart by sundown. The snow made your journey take agonizingly longer than expected, every crunch of snow under your heeled boots only seemed to make your travels much slower.

The clacking sound of a horse's heels through the snow caught your attention and you followed the noise closely. There were two women sitting on the horse, you had met them both when you briefly passed by the village on your way to the castle. This was your chance, you had your doubts about your escape and survival chances but seeing them again gave you hope. You ran up to the slowly trotting horse and the steed stood up on it's two legs and cried out as if you had spooked it. "Stop! Stop I say!" The woman towards the head of the horse ran her hands over its face and that seemed to calm the animal but it still eyed you with unease.

"She has the smell of death on her." Before you could ask for help a feeling of anger washed over you. These two women knew you were heading to that castle two weeks ago and didn't even bother to tell you what you were getting yourself into. "She is probably a vengeful spirit, the vampyre does not keep his whores for this long." The older woman made the sign of the cross with her fingers as if she was blessing herself for just seeing you and the two continued off on their horse finishing their conversation in Romanian. You'd cry but these past few days have absolved you of all the tears you had left to release.

Disgust. Disgust was what you felt about yourself, the Count, the castle, the villagers just everything. The sun began to set and your heart sank in your chest, a part of you wanted to keep walking until you arrived at the village and found somewhere vacant to hide. While another part of you wanted you to turn around and walk back to the castle, sit at that dining table, and greet your lover with a smile. After contemplating what to do you let out a scream of frustration and continued toward the village. If the horse was walking slowly in this area that meant that they had to be close to their home.

The sun had officially set by the time you arrived in the center of the village. There were houses and homes around you, all with drawn curtains but you could see the glow of candles inside which let you know everyone was inside their homes and they'd most likely never open the door to what they thought was a 'vengeful spirit'. Each door was covered in garlic and a variety of crosses and bible pages. The more homes you past the darker the sky became and you had this frightening feeling that death would soon be coming for you, that it was already searching for you and knew you had gone missing.

On the far end of the village was what you believed to be a church, there were no candles inside and the windows were not covered by curtains. You turned the knob and the door opened with a creak and revealed a room full of chairs, benches books, and whatever else the moonlight decided to show you. After closing the door behind you and taking a few steps forward you almost slipped on something somewhat sticky and overtly soft on the floor. You couldn't see very well what you were stepping on but the stench of death gave you a vivid impression. That had to have been pieces of an animal or a human even, as the familiar scent of true death you had become accustomed to was far too unique to be this.

That devil - your devil, had the stench of death but mixed with something far more abnormally comforting. It reminded you of your childhood days when you'd play alone in the small damp cave that resided behind your home back in America. The smell of that cave, the smell of pinecones in a forest, and pure decay were the smells you identified him by. Suddenly several books fell off of the shelf behind you and you almost fled until you saw the cause of the loud mess. "Oh dear god in heaven." Right before you was a man sitting in the darkest corner of the church.

He had to be at least a few years older than you, once your eyes had become adjusted to the darkness you could see him somewhat better. "You're still alive?" His Romanian accent was thick but at least he spoke English to you, the surprise in his tone sent you reeling. "No thanks to you or anyone else in this damned village, you're all SICK! Sick for letting me journey to that monster." And at last, the tears you believed to be depleted soon fell from your eyes. You had every right to be upset, to feel as though you were betrayed. "Iartă-mă, forgive me, I will explain but did he release you?"

"Explain first and I'll tell you." You were stern enough to get the point across that you weren't letting up. The man's expression harshened a bit before it relaxed. He grabbed what looked to be a bottle of gin off of the pedestal next to him and took a swig before looking up at you. "My name is Mihai, I asked to be here to protect the others, the vampyre will feed off me-" It all began to make sense, he was a willing sacrificial lamb which was why the church seemed to be so unprotected, and dark. You felt a pang in your stomach remembering that this was supposed to be a holy church. Consecrated ground that would protect against all evil and yet evil still invaded like a sickening plague.

"- Feeding it is better than letting it feed itself, yes or no?" You declined to answer that question as you put your back against the wall and dropped to sit on the floor. Feeling like an idiot you let your head hit the hard surface behind you, looking up at the unlit chandelier dangling from the ceiling. That's why the dogs let you leave this morning and why you were seemingly able to find your baggage. He knew there would be nowhere for you to go, the villagers too succumbed to his darkness and would never assist you. The one structure in the entire village you could enter freely and it was his feeding ground.

He wanted you here, wanted you to see that this was the kind of power he had over others and it was making you nauseatingly sick. You stumbled to your feet and turned to look at Mihai who was currently downing his bottle of gin again, he had no idea of the fate that awaited him. The Count would draw out his death and turn what was supposed to be quick feeding into a lesson for you to learn. If you had never left the castle this man would never endure the torture that lay ahead of him.

"Mihai I'm sor-" The flickering of candles interrupted you. The crucifixes that were placed upon the walls slowly turned upside down and the Mother Mary statue you were standing next to began to bleed from its eyes. "He is coming." As you said the words your hands began to tremble and shake. Even without the dramatic display of power, the rise of goosebumps on your skin and the tremble of your frame told you how his shadow drew near. The door of the church opened up with a slam as snow flurries began to enter the church with the gust of wind.

The flurries landed on the floor sticking to the bloodstained wood, there were small clumps of whoever he had decided to feast on the night prior now illuminated by the candles. Your eye twitched miserably as that had been what you almost slipped on earlier. Suddenly at the frame of the door, a tall imposing figure with glowing white eyes appeared, its eyes were directed at you solely and neglected the presence of Mihai. As he stepped into the church your gaze averted to the floor, you didn't have to look at him to see his disappointment.

His stare carried nonexistent daggers that pierced their way through your body and soul. His deep ragged breathing echoed through the room and silenced all other noises the further he walked in. The door slammed itself behind him and it made your heart leap a small yelp escaped your mouth. You kept your gaze on the floor and he closed the distance between the two of you to the point where all you could see was the fur of his cape below in your vision. A clawed hand shot up and grabbed the lower half of your face and forced you to look up at him as he towered over you. "You will watch and if you dare look away then it will be you instead."

"Yes, my Lord." You answered mindlessly, knowing that your life at the moment was being held teetering on the edge of a dangerous cliff, and any foolish movement would send you tumbling downward. In your situation, that dangerous cliff happened to be your lover. He didn't release his hold on your face while his dark eyes stared intensely into yours, the gaze was so intense your eyes strained from the lack of blinking. You feared that if you took the chance to blink he'd snap your neck then and there for disobeying further. Thankfully his gaze was averted when Mihai purposely dropped his now empty glass bottle onto the planked floor of the church.

You took that much-needed blink and his hand was no longer painfully cupping your face but he now had it around the neck of the villager. Mihai's face became a deep purple as he was lifted against the wall, and as soon as his chest became eye level with the harbinger of death, his heart was latched onto and he began to be drained. Watching this happen before you showed you how much this creature held back when he'd feed from you. The way he siphoned blood from Mihai was nothing like what he'd do to you.

Him being a messy eater wasn't news to you but the sure brutality of the pressure he exerted against the man's ribs was so excessive you heard a sickening crunching noise as it sounded like they had fractured under duress. It was pure savagery displayed in front of you but you didn't dare look away. You watched as he had instructed you to while the life dissipated from Mihai's eyes. The blood from the villager's body flowed so much that it began to speckle the floor below them. When the body of the sacrifice finally dropped to the floor of the church and what now looked like a rabid beast corrected his posture and turned in your direction, you knew it was your turn.

"What kind of host would I be if I didn't indulge my guest in a little- how do you say it in English? Entertainment." Your face twisted in disgust at his mockery, you liked it better when he barely spoke to you. The more conversations the two of you had the more you realized he had a sadistic sense of humor. "Did you enjoy your trip today? I hope you found whatever it is you were searching for." As he took one step forward you took two steps back, not wanting to deal with whatever wrath or 'mercy' he wanted to give you.

The blood continued to drip from his mouth and your thighs involuntarily trembled. You mouthed a 'no' as you realized what was going on with you. For your body to react like this at such a scene brought back those feelings of guilt and shame you had this morning. You'd make the false accusation that he was manipulating you into this but both of you would know that was a complete lie.

His bloodied hand grabbed a hold of your hair and brought you to your knees. "If you were to kill me right now I would not need to blame you as I have disobeyed! I don't deserve your forgiveness but I will still ask for it." His grip on your hair painfully tightened and there was only a little bit more pressure needed before he'd be ripping the strands straight from your scalp. "You leave my castle, fraternize with a human man, and ask for my forgiveness?!"

His booming voice reverberated off the walls of the church and made the flames of the candles dance violently upon the wax sticks they sat on making you feel much smaller than you were and as you sunk into yourself like a scolded child. His furred cape flared in front of you angrily as he turned and walked away from you. This man was livid with rage before you and it only made you fear him more, you pondered why you even thought it was a good idea to flee the castle, to begin with.

"I'm sorry my Lord!" Before you could stand up to continue to beg for forgiveness and your life, a clawed finger pointed downward at the floor indicating for you to stay down at the level you were. "You will crawl to me..." You didn't need to be told twice by him so you put your hands on the cold wooden floor, lowered your back, and slowly crawled to him. When you reached him your fingers grabbed a hold of his furred cloak and you looked up at him with pleading wide eyes. The scent of your growing arousal made his nostrils flare and you could see there was an internal war going on within his mind about what he was going to do with you.

It was a demeaning idea but your fingers crept under his heavy cloak and you found the button latch to his trousers. He allowed you to remove his flaccid length and the heavy sack resting beneath it. You should have been utterly disturbed by how grotesque he was but you breathed a small moan while grabbing a hold of his cock. The longer you held him the harder he seemed to grow. Fully invested in what you were doing your hand tightened around him slightly and gave a few slow strokes of his shaft. The way his foreskin pulled backward and forward along the bulbous head of his cock was intoxicating and it was now you too who was breathing heavily.

As much as would have liked to deny it, there was a deeper connection than either of you would have expected to bloom. It wasn't just sexual it was disturbingly spiritual as if you'd never be truly free of him the same way he'd never be truly free of you. You had driven yourself mad about succumbing to his darkness but it wasn't just his at play, it was yours too. The longer you stayed with him the faster your mind began to unveil the depraved and dark thoughts that you kept at bay to keep yourself sane.

This mutual infatuation dared to ruin the both of you and you came to terms with being quite alright with that. It didn't take long before he fully hardened under your grasp and you gave his weeping slit a long and desperate lick. Your eyes never left his predatory ones as you coaxed the head of his erection past your lips. You sucked your cheeks in as your head began to bob up and down his cock. His entire length would never fit in your mouth so you kept your hand stroking at his base while your mouth worked on the half of him that it could please.

The fingers of your free hand found themselves in between your legs and sliding down your undergarments so you could spread apart your slit. You were unbearably wet with need as your walls clenched around nothing. Two of your fingers rubbed desperate circles around your clit until you were a panting mess and whining with his cock in your mouth. Your lover - your darkness, kept his composure and looked down at you with intrigue. His angry glare from earlier had softened but not enough to make you feel safer.

He grabbed a hold of your head and pulled you away from his shaft and his tip left your lips with a wet pop. You didn't stop stroking him at his base while his sharply pointed nails descended from your head and stopped at the side of your neck. One of his nails pierced your skin and drew a short line across your tender flesh. The pain was agonizing but you knew if you stopped he'd simply claw you deeper.

"That mark is for talking back to me and out of turn on the first day we met." You didn't have to look down to know that fresh blood dripped from your wound and further downward into your dress. His nail came into contact with your flesh again and you felt the carving of another short line. "This mark is for spending countless nights crying because you wanted to go home." He gave you a shorter moment of recovery before the pointed claw dug into your skin again.

"And that one would be for refusing the first few meals I would leave for you..." He wasn't smiling but his eyes held a sadistic gleam to them, he was hurting you and he found it amusing as usual. Your hand loosened around his shaft momentarily while the stinging sensation of your wounds began to cause your eyes to water. You shut your eyes entirely as another line was carved into your neck. "Once more for running away from my home. You have four now. If you ever gain a fifth that will be your final night with me."

When you opened your eyes his hand was freshly slicked with blood and now pressed to his lips so that he may taste you. To taste the life that he deemed so endearing to keep around him. Watching him do that made your slit weep with arousal even more. Before you could take him back into your mouth he stopped you and instructed you to turn around with a wave of his finger and you obeyed. You sunk back onto your hands and knees knowing what he was implying but it still surprised you when dropped down behind you and your dress was lifted above your hips.

You gasped when the head of his cock prodded at your folds before he thrust forward and entered you. When your body became flush with his, your hips rocked against him begging him to move. Even your walls pleaded with him dearly every time you felt yourself clench miserably around him. His length pulled away from you before sinking back in with a hiss from him as he started up a feral pace. Your body jerked forward every time his hips met with yours followed by a moan from your lips. With every thrust his sack would slap against your swollen clit and that made you whimper even more.

Your cunt was so greedy for his touch just to be able to take all of him like this when he'd just started. The pain of the lines he had drawn on your skin was soon forgotten about and forgiven with how pleasurable it felt when he split you open like this. It wasn't just the physical pleasure affecting you, you were also getting off on the power that he had over you, how little effort it would take for him to kill you right here while buried within your wet heat.

In between your moans and whimpers, you'd hear him grunt in approval from behind you. What was completely unexpected and took you by surprise was when his hand found its way back into your hair and he forced your head to the side so he could claim your mouth in a kiss. This level of affection was new to you but it soon became welcomed as well when his tongue slipped into your mouth. Blood, whether it was yours or Mihai's lingered in his mouth which intimately transferred over to yours and you greedily accepted it during the kiss.

With his cold tongue exploring the cavern of your mouth he only pounded you harder from behind which made your back arch further for him. You took one of your hands off the floor and started vigorously rubbing your clit in circles desperate for your approaching climax. When that peak reached you and your walls spasmed furiously around his cock you moaned loudly against his mouth and the overstimulation made you remove your hand and squeeze your legs tightly shut but his fervent thrusts continued.

His mouth left yours and your head was pushed down roughly onto the floor while he continued taking you from behind. Your legs began to tremble and your body wanted to inch far away from him but he held you firmly in place making you take everything he gave you and more. The increase in pace made your lower belly tighten as you came for him again around him. Your eyes rolled back and your hips buckled against him while you cried out with your release.

The thrusting stopped abruptly and he pushed so deeply inside you that it was painful. The tip of his cock began to twitch against your cervix and several ropes of his release shot into you. Your needy walls were milking him of his seed, making him fill you up like this. He left you feeling so full and satiated as the deed you'd both have done was nothing short of passionate He pulled out and you were flipped over onto your back so that he could lick the dried and congealed blood from the wounds he left on your neck. Your eyes grew heavy-lidded and you just laid there and let him salivate all over your neck and chest as much as he pleased.

You didn't remember closing your eyes and falling asleep until you woke up in the guest bedroom of the castle. You were light-headed from your ordeal last night and you nearly fell off the bed when you turned to see what looked like a stone grey box in the middle of the room. The more you stared at it the more you could make out its morbidly beautiful details and carvings. For some reason, it started to look more like a coffin maybe even a sarcophagus than a box or container as you thought it was. It looked expensive and ancient and you had no intentions of touching it unless you'd like to receive your fifth and final mark this evening.

Images of last night as memories came back to haunt you and a familiar ache between your thighs threatened your composure. With that ache, you felt an undeniable soreness, and inklings of pain that flooded the left side of your neck. Before you were able to exit the room the sound of stone sliding against stone made you stop and look at the now-opened grey sarcophagus with wide eyes as a clawed hand reached out from the darkness within it. Suddenly you were ready to succumb to it all over again.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Unlucky Night ~ BC

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.1K 

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: strangers to friends, to potential lovers, cute, fluffy, chan acting like a protector - we stan a king - 

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Chan x GN!Reader 

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

You sat at the bar, your fingers gripping the cool glass of your drink as you stared ahead, trying to ignore the man next to you. His presence was almost suffocating and you'd been doing your best to ignore him and pretend he wasn't there but it was becoming increasingly more difficult with each passing moment.

He had sidled up to you over an hour ago, and despite your polite rejections, he persisted like a shadow you couldn’t shake off. Even the barman had attempted to make the guy leave you alone but he was persistent in staying right where he was. Claiming he was a 'paying' customer and it was a 'free country'. You started to grab your things trying to move away from him, you'd come out for a nice relaxing night and so far you hadn't gotten that.

"Come on, sweetheart. I’m just trying to have a good time," the man said, his voice slurred from one too many drinks, he stunk of vodka and the smell made you want to vomit. You clenched your jaw, keeping your eyes fixed on the shelves of liquor behind the bar.

"I already told you, I'm not interested," you replied, your voice sharp but measured. You didn’t want to escalate the situation, but every time he spoke, your patience wore thinner. You'd been taught to always politely decline since you never knew what someone was capable of, but right now you wanted to smack the guy over the head with the glass he was nursing his drink from.

He leaned closer, invading your space, and you had to force yourself not to recoil.

"You’re playing hard to get, huh?" He chuckled, the sound grating. His breath was catching on your head as he moved closer to you, your hands clenching into fists.

"I like a challenge," he whispers, you can hear him licking his lips and it finally pushes you past your limit. You took a deep breath, glancing around the bar for an escape, but none seemed available. The bartender was busy, and no one else seemed to notice the tension between you and the man.

"I’m not playing anything," you said, your tone firmer now. "I came here for some quiet, and you’re making it difficult." He raised an eyebrow, clearly not getting the message—or choosing not to, whatever his small mind could come up with.

"Quiet? In a bar? You don’t look like the quiet type to me." He moved closer, his shoulder brushing yours, making your skin crawl and your stomach churn. If this was what he was like in public you didn't want to imagine what it would be like if you'd run into him in a dark alleyway on the way home.

"Let me buy you another drink, and maybe we can go somewhere else after." You finally turned to face him, your gaze hard and unflinching. You wanted him to finally get the point through his tiny brain,

"I said no." Each word was laced with frustration. You were at the end of your rope with him and you were two seconds away from insulting him,

"I don’t want a drink. I don’t want to go anywhere with you." you figured he would finally understand that you meant no but of course not. He didn’t back down. Instead, he smirked! Smirking as if this was all part of some game you were both playing and that you were just trying to test him.

"You’re being feisty. I like that." He placed a hand on the bar, trapping you on one side.

"Don’t be like that, babe. Let’s just—"

"Stop calling me 'babe,'" you snapped, your voice rising slightly. "I’m not interested. Leave me alone." You snapped a little harsher at him this time, earning the attention of the couple on the other side of the bar from you.

The man’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly regained his composure, leaning even closer. He shrugged his shoulders and smirked at you, his eyes looking you up and down as he drank in your appearance.

"I think you just need to loosen up." That was it. Your heart pounded with a mix of anger and anxiety, and you could feel the adrenaline kicking in. You had to get out of this situation before it escalated any further. Your eyes scanned the room again, desperate for a way out, and that’s when you spotted a guy sitting alone. You weren't sure he was going to be any better than the arsehole beside you but he seemed nice enough, his eyes were on his laptop,

Without another thought, you stood abruptly, pushing the bar stool back and making a beeline for his table, hoping that this stranger could help you where words had failed.

Your heart raced as you made your way toward the table at the back of the pub, weaving through the crowd while trying to appear as calm as possible. This was your one shot of getting away from the creep and you didn't want to blow it, you could still feel the man’s gaze following you, his presence still heavy on your back, but you forced yourself to focus on your next step. You didn’t know this guy at the table but you hoped he was as nice as he appeared to be,

He was sitting alone, his attention on his laptop when you reached his table, you bit your lip a little. Hesitation washed over you as you stood there for a moment, unsure how to begin or how to even ask him for his help but here you were. He glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to concern as he noticed the panic flickering in your eyes.

“Excuse me…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. You swallowed, forcing yourself to speak louder, more confidently, you didn't want to come across as creepy like the guy from the bar.

“I—I know this is weird, but… there’s a guy over there who’s been following me all night. He won’t leave me alone. Can you… Can you help me?” The man blinked once, taking in your words, his gaze briefly flicking past you toward the bar where the man still lingered. His jaw clenched so hard you could see it from where you were standing, and without hesitation, he slid to the side, making space on the bench next to him.

“Sit down,” he said softly, his voice calm but authoritative. You didn’t waste a second before slipping into the seat beside him, your heart hammering against your chest. The second you sat down, you felt an immediate sense of relief, though the anxiety still churned in your stomach.

"I'm Chan," he introduced himself quietly as you nodded along with him, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him. It was now that you realised he had the most beautiful eyes you'd ever seen in your life.

"yn." You whispered back to him, a shy smile forming on your lips as your chest began to flutter. He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours as he spoke in a low voice meant only for you.

“I’m going to play along, okay? But I need to ask—can I put my arm around you? It’ll make this look more believable...but only if you're comfortable," Your breath caught in your throat. You were grateful he even asked, considering the situation, but the way his voice was so gentle and steady like he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, made you nod almost instantly.

“Yeah,” you whispered, still feeling nervous but trusting him. Without missing a beat, Chan slid his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a way that felt protective rather than invasive. He let his fingers rest lightly on your shoulder, not gripping too tightly but enough to make it seem like a natural gesture. His body was warm against yours, and for the first time that night, you didn’t feel as vulnerable.

His free hand found yours on the table, his fingers gently intertwining with yours and you were sure your heart was about ready to throw itself at him now.

“There,” he murmured, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “How’s that? He still watching?” You dared a glance toward the bar, where the man was glaring in your direction, clearly displeased by the sudden shift in your attention.

“Yeah, he is,” you whispered back, your voice trembling slightly. You were worried he would be there all night and Chan would eventually have to leave you alone.

“Don’t worry,” Chan said, his voice soothing. “I’ve got you. Just follow my lead.” Then, to sell the act even further, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to make it seem real. The warmth of the gesture spread through you, and though your heart was still racing, it wasn’t from fear anymore.

“Babe, you okay?” he said louder, for anyone watching to hear. His thumb stroked your hand as he continued to play the part effortlessly.

“I didn’t think you’d make it tonight.” You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Yeah, I just… got held up,” you mumbled, trying to match his tone. Chan squeezed your hand gently, leaning closer again, his voice dropping back to a whisper.

“We’ll leave in a few minutes. I’ll walk you out, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t follow.” You nodded again, your pulse slowly calming with every second that passed by his side.

"I hate that he's made you panic, I can feel how hard your heart is racing," He whispered to you, but little did he know your heart wasn't racing because of the creep - well, maybe at first - but now it was all for him.

"So what brings you to the bar?" You asked with a smile, and he smirked turning his laptop screen around to show you what it was he was working on but you couldn't make sense of it.

"Music, I come here to focus sometimes when I can't do with the silence of my studio," He smiled at you as you stared at the screen, his eyes lingering on yours as you scanned over the screen,

"What about you, beautiful?" He asked with a smile, your eyes slowly looked back at him and you felt your body heating up from the attention,

"Long day, I wanted some quiet after work but I guess I was unlucky...but it's improving," You whispered, his cheeks turning pink as you flirted back with him,

"Well, I'm glad I could make your unlucky night that much better." He winked at you.

What was meant to be just a few minutes of pretending stretched into something much longer between the two of you? You and Chan settled into an easy rhythm of conversation, your initial nerves melting away as you found yourself drawn into his warmth, both literally and figuratively. His arm was still draped casually over your shoulders, felt natural now, and his presence put you at ease. At first, you kept sneaking glances toward the bar, checking to see if the man was still watching, but after a while, you stopped looking, forgetting he was there altogether. Chan had a way of making you forget about the unease from earlier, all of it melting away into nothing.

His laugh was infectious, and the stories he shared with you made you feel like you'd known him longer than just a couple of hours now. He had a talent for making you feel like the only person in the room, even as the pub bustled around you.

“So, you’ve never been to Australia?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes. You shook your head, laughing lightly.

“Nope. Never. The farthest I’ve travelled is from home to Korea.”

“Well, you’re missing out,” he said with a grin.

“When you do go, I’ll give you all the recommendations. Best beaches, places to eat... And don’t worry, no kangaroos in the cities. Everyone always asks about the kangaroos.” You giggled, holding your hand over your mouth as you tried not to get too loud.

“I wasn’t even thinking about the kangaroos.” Chan leaned back slightly, his hand still resting comfortably on your shoulder as he continued.

“Good, ‘cause they’re honestly a bit terrifying up close.” He shuddered playfully before you giggled at him.

This whole thing had started as a tense situation and had suddenly turned into something that felt more like a spontaneous first date. You found yourself telling him things you didn’t expect to share, laughing at his jokes, and learning about the person behind the calm, cool exterior.

At some point, the pub began to thin out, the bustling energy of the night slowly quieting down. You glanced at your phone and blinked, surprised.

"Wow, it’s already past midnight.” Chan raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely surprised.

“Really? We were supposed to leave a few minutes ago, right?” His lips curled into a small smile. “Guess we got a little carried away.” He laughed softly as you joined in, realizing that you hadn’t even thought about the man who’d been following you. Turning to look toward the bar, you saw that he was long gone. You hadn’t noticed when he’d left, but now it felt like a distant memory, something insignificant compared to the night you’d spent talking with Chan.

“Looks like he’s gone,” you said with a relieved smile. Chan’s arm tightened slightly around your shoulders as he followed your gaze. Part of him was a little disappointed that this was over but he was relieved you weren't going to have some creep following you around.

“Good. I didn’t want to leave you alone until I was sure.” He looked back at you, his eyes softening. “Still, let me walk you out and get you a cab. Just to be safe.” You nodded, grateful once again for his thoughtfulness. He stood up, offering you his hand, and you took it as he helped you to your feet. His hand lingered in yours for a moment before he dropped it, guiding you toward the door with a protective closeness that hadn’t faded since you first approached him.

The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, refreshing against your warm skin. Chan stayed beside you, his arm gently brushing yours as you stood at the path. He waved down a cab, making sure it stopped directly in front of you.

Before you stepped inside, he turned to you, that playful smile back on his face.

“So, I’m guessing we didn’t get to talk about everything yet.” You laughed softly and shook your head at him.

“No, I guess we didn’t.”

“Then how about we finish this conversation another time?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. He wasn't usually the type to pick up people in bars and ask for their number but with you, he'd felt something, a genuine connection that he didn't want to let go of.

“I think we owe ourselves a less stressful night.” He finished as you nodded at him.

“I’d like that, a lot.” You whispered before the two of you exchanged numbers, the glow from his phone illuminating his face as he saved your contact. After sending a quick message so you had his number too, he looked at you again.

“I’ll text you. We’ll set something up.” He suggested. You nodded, opening the door to the taxi and sliding into the backseat, Chan leaned down slightly, his hand resting on the doorframe as he looked at you. He didn't want you to go but it was getting too late now.

“Take care, alright? And text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”

“I will,” you promised, giving him one last grateful smile. “Thank you… for everything.”

He grinned, his dimples showing as he gave you a small wave. “Anytime.”

The cab pulled away, and as you watched him grow smaller in the distance, you couldn’t help but feel like tonight had turned out much differently than you’d expected but much, much, better than you'd expected.

You stared at Chan as the two of you sat in the same booth table you'd been in a year ago today,

“A whole year, huh?” Chan’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. He squeezed your hand, giving you that soft smile that still made your heart flutter, even after all this time.

“Yeah, hard to believe,” you said, grinning up at him. “Feels like it was just yesterday that I walked up to your table and asked you to save me from that creep.” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Best decision you ever made.” He winked playfully, and you nudged him in the ribs.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not wrong,” you teased, squeezing his hand back as you found a familiar table toward the back—the same one where you’d sat with him that night.

As you both settled into the booth, the memories of that night played vividly in your mind. You remembered how nervous you’d been, approaching a stranger for help, how you’d ended up spending hours lost in conversation with him, and how he’d walked you out, making sure you were safe. It felt surreal to be sitting here again, but this time, things were different. This time, he wasn’t just playing the part of your boyfriend.

He was your boyfriend.

“So, how do you feel about this anniversary?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “One year of dealing with me. Not bad, right?” You laughed softly, resting your head on his shoulder as he squeezed you, softy, pressing his lips to your temple.

“One year of putting up with your terrible jokes, you mean?” His laughter joined yours, a deep, happy sound that you never got tired of hearing.

“Hey, you love my jokes.” he whined at you making you smirk,

“Debatable,” you teased, though the smile on your face made it clear just how much you adored him. “But really… this has been the best year.”

Chan tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as he looked down at you.

“Same here. Best year of my life, actually.” Your heart swelled as you looked at him, slowly leaning in and kissing him softly.

"Happy anniversary baby," You whispered before he leant his forehead on yours,

"Happy Anniversary, stranger." He winked before you giggled, cuddling into his side again.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

[autumnsvixen]

Damaged - part 2

previous || next (coming soon)

Azriel x f! reader

After a long and arduous recovery, you are finally able to feel safe in the House of Wind. You can't help but feeling as if something, or someone, is missing.

Word Count: 2777

Warnings: Reader healing from wounds, some mentions of past trauma (including blood, violence, and abuse), Rhys being nice (?)

A/N: Holy shit, thank you all for the love on part 1. I was not expecting that AT ALL, but I’m really glad you’re all enjoying it! This is, sadly, another part without much Az, but he’s coming (he's WHAT), I promise 😊

masterlist || request guidelines

The past week was a blur of darkness and pain. Your only real memories consisted of hazy visions of winged males, swirling shadows, and an elderly female fae with kind brown eyes.

As your eyes drifted open, you were blinded by the brightness flowing into the room from the opened curtains. The elder fae you had seen throughout your recovery hissed at someone else in the room, “Morrigan, close that curtain. You’ll give the poor girl a headache.”

Your blurry vision began to clear as the panging in your head became apparent. The pain seemingly spread throughout your body as you fully woke. A groan escaped you as you tried to shift yourself up to better observe the unfamiliar room you found yourself in, only to be gently pushed down by the same female that had just spoken.

“Don’t try to sit up. You’ve recovered a lot, but you still need rest.” Her voice was kind but strict, leaving no room for debate.

When you spoke, your voice came out rough, throat feeling like ash, “where am I?”

Another voice filled your ears as a beautiful female with golden hair moved into your vision, “you’re safe. Cassian and Rhys got you to the House of Wind just in time.” She sounded like honey; soft and sweet.

Her words registered with you, “Rhys, as in high lord Rhysand?” You again tried to sit up in the bed, shocked that Cassian had brought you to the home of the high lord.

The younger fae, who you had figured out was the Morrigan, laughed as the other huffed at you, but she didn’t push you back down. You leaned your back against the headboard, the wood cold against your wings.

“Don’t say it like he’s some god, he’ll get even more of an ego. But yes, the high lord. He winnowed you from just outside of Ironcrest.”

The older female spoke next, “and you’re lucky he did. If you had gotten here any later…” She shook her head, dismissing the thought.

Your heart clenched at the thought that you had almost died.

The two females in the room seemed to notice your thoughts as your eyes glazed over, your last conscious memories replaying in your mind. Morrigan gently grasped your hand, “you’re safe now. I promise those males won’t ever lay a hand on you again.”

A tear fell from your eye as you turned your head to look at her, “I just wanted to be able to defend myself.”

“Those cowards cornered you. It was three against one. Even if you had been training with Cas for years, they would still have had an advantage.” Anger and disgust laced her voice, and the glint in your eyes told you that these were not the first cowardly males she had encountered.

You nodded at her words, but no response escaped you. You couldn’t shake the thought that if you had just been stronger, you could have protected yourself. Or if you had just obeyed your brother’s wishes, you wouldn’t even be in this situation.

Morrigan seemed to sense your reluctance to accept her words as truth, so she turned to the other female in the room. “Madja, do you think it would be alright for her to eat something?”

The elderly fae nodded, swiftly leaving the room. Morrigan sat on the bed next to you, careful not to move your injured body, “Cassian told me your name is Y/N, right?”

You nodded, and she continued, “You can call me Mor. Cassian didn’t tell me much about what happened before the attack, but I promise you that the people here will never treat you the way you were treated back in the camp.”

You didn’t have the words to respond. Part of you hoped what she was saying was true, but another part of you knew that your brother, despite his faults, had always looked out for you. Until now, that is.

“If you want to train once you’re all healed, Cassian and I can help you. If you want to go back to Ironcrest, that is your choice, though one I would hate for you to make.”

You furrowed your brows at her, “You would let me stay? You don’t even know me.”

She smiled softly at you, “let’s just say our high lord has a soft spot for those who have experienced the worst this world has to offer. And Cas has told us enough about you for all of us to trust you.”

Gently, you squeezed her hand, “did he tell you I was the most difficult fae he’s ever had to train?”

Mor laughed, the sound falling gracefully onto your ears and drawing a small smile to your lips. “He told us you had the balance of a newborn fawn, but that you were determined in your training.”

“Do you really think he’d want to train me even after seeing how utterly defenseless I was against those males?” You asked softly, the smile falling from your face.

She looked at you with a kindness you rarely saw, “I’ll say it until your ears bleed, those males are cowards, and it took three of them to face you. You weren’t defenseless and you are not hopeless, you just need training and some more confidence. Cassian would be lucky to have you as a trainee.”

You nodded, “okay then. I’d like to stay here and train.”

Suddenly, Madja entered the room, “not until you are fully healed. You will stay here and rest until I say.” She placed a tray holding bowl of soup and a glass of water on the table next to your bed. “I swear, all you Illyrians are the same, never wanting to heal, always wanting to train,” she mumbled.

Madja didn’t clear you to leave the bed for another three days. In that time, Cassian, Rhysand, and Mor all took turns keeping you company. The first time you had met the high lord, you had clumsily tried to bow from your place in the bed, which more so looked like you trying to fold yourself in half. Of course, with the aching pain in your chest and stomach, this was accompanied by a grimace, which was not the face you had wanted to greet your high lord with. He had chuckled, waving you off with a “please, you’re a guest in my home, I don’t need the theatrics.”

You had quickly developed friendship with each of them, but none as close as Cassian. Perhaps because he was the fae you were most familiar with, or you just associated him with the feeling of safety.

You had thought of asking Cassian about the shadow-made man, but something in your gut stopped you from doing so. Perhaps you had just imagined him, and they would think you were mad if you brought him up.

By the time you were finally allowed to train, almost 2 weeks after waking up, you had begun to feel at home in the House of Wind. You’d had meals with Rhys, Cassian, Mor, and Amren, a member of the household who seemed much older than a high fae should be. Mor had promised once you were at full health, she and Cassian would show you the city and take you shopping, to which Cassian huffed at.

You started to feel at peace.

That was until Cassian woke you up before dawn one day, demanding you change into training clothes that Mor had provided you and meet him in the training arena on top of the house. Though tired, you eagerly complied, excited to start back the training you had gotten so little of back at camp.

When you got to the arena, you marveled at the extensive sand pit and the weapons that hung on racks around it. Cassian laughed at your amusement, “normally Az and I spar with just our hands, but sometimes we practice with the weapons, either on our own or with each other.”

“Az?” You questioned.

Cas’s eyes went wide with realization, “that’s right, you weren’t exactly… conscious when he was here. Azriel is my brother,” he grinned, thinking of the male. “He’s also our court’s spymaster, so he comes and goes pretty frequently. He’s off on a mission to who knows where right now, but he should be back by the end of the week. He keeps to himself, so you probably won’t see much of him when he is here, but once you get to know him, he’s a good guy.”

You nod, wondering if this was the shadow man you had believed your mind made up. But Cassian seemed so bright, you doubted his brother would be covered in such darkness. “Well, I look forward to meeting him.”

Your return to training was slow, but every morning you went up to the arena, Cas pushed you a little harder. By the end of your first week of training, you felt back to the way you were before you’d been attacked at camp.

Everyone was impressed by your progress, including yourself. You had expected to be haunted by the memories of those males, but you instead let it push you to train harder, wanting to ensure you were never in that situation again.

“Would you accompany out to the city today? I have a few things I’d like to pick up and I want to show you around.” Rhys asked you while you were clearing the table from breakfast. “And, no offense, I think it’s time you pick out your own clothes instead of whatever Mor decides to gift you.”

You chuckled, looking down at the dress the female had given you that day. It was tighter than you were used to a dress being, and much more revealing than anything you’d worn in the camps. Mor had called it modest by her standards.

With a bright smile at the high fae, you said, “I would love to.”

The city of Velaris, Rhys informed you, was his closest kept secret, and you could immediately tell why. The bright colors of the Rainbow and the display of culture throughout the city instantly had your heart pounding with excitement. This was a safe haven in the night court, and you felt incredibly lucky that Rhysand had trusted you enough to bring you here.

He had stopped by a few shops, buying himself a new jacket that seemed to absorb darkness and a set of earrings that he intended to gift to Amren as a Solstice present. As you walked, he told you about the different shops in the city and stories of its inhabitants.

Your eyes went wide as he opened the door to a bakery, the smell of sugary bread filling your nostrils. Pastries you had never heard of lined the shelves of a glass case. He bought you a sweet bun filled with lemon-flavored icing, and you swore it was the best thing you’d ever tasted.

“I forgot how bland the food is at the markets back in the camps. Now that you’re in Velaris, I’ll make sure you get to experience the best food we have to offer.” He spoke as you gobbled up the sugary goodness.

You swallowed before speaking, “I really don’t know how I can ever repay your kindness, Rhysand. Seriously.”

He waved you off, “keep training and gathering your strength, and I’m sure I can find you a place in my circle. But even if you never work for me, I will continue to spoil you with the goodness of this city. You deserve it.”

Happy tears filled your eyes as he spoke. You had never experienced such care before arriving to the House of Wind, and now it all felt overwhelming. “I don’t have words to explain how honored I am to be here. One day, I will find a way to repay your kindness.”

He smirked playfully, “well, until you do, I’m going to continue to spoil you. I was thinking we could visit the clothes shops in the palace of thread and jewels.”

By the time you had finished shopping, you and Rhys were surrounded by bags filled with clothes and shoes. You insisted you would pay him back, but he simply waved off the expense as a “welcome present.”

The sky was dark as you exited the last shop, and your eyes widened as you spotted the lights lining the river that ran through the city. The high lord seemed to take notice of your amazement, as if he had expected it. “It’s even better from above,” he said quietly. With a wave of his hands, the bags in your arms disappeared.

You were shocked at the easy display of magic, until you realized what he had implied. You looked at him sadly, “I can’t- my wings-“

“I’ll carry you,” he cut you off. You nodded, thankful he understood. He picked you up, strong arms beneath your back and knees, before shooting off into the sky. You wrapped your own arms tightly around his neck as you screeched, the sudden weightlessness of flying catching you off guard.

There was something about being in the air that felt so natural. You knew it was due to your heritage, as Illyrians belonged in the sky, but you had never had the opportunity to actually experience it until now.

And Rhys was right, the city was somehow more beautiful from up here. The lights reflected off the Sidra, the waves making them appear to dance. The city squares seemed alive with lights and people. It was all breathtaking.

Rhys carried you through the air, dipping low before shooting high, as if playing a game of tag with the wind. You laughed as it blew your hair in all different directions. You stayed in the air for almost an hour, though you felt as if you could’ve stayed for years, before you landed on a balcony back in the House of Wind.

“Thank you for that, truly.” You spoke to him, removing your arms from his neck as your feet touched the ground.

He smiled at you, “any time.”

As you both walked into the seating room you had landed outside of, your breath is halted in your throat at the site of a male that had haunted your dreams since you arrived at the house.

Hazel eyes studied you for a moment before moving over to the male standing next to you. “Rhys, we need to talk.”

Rhys smirked, prancing to a nearby bar cart and pouring himself a glass of fae wine, “nice to see you too, brother. Glad you’re home safe.”

The stunning male’s expression remained neutral as he stared at Rhysand, unamused at his antics. You studied the angled bones of his cheeks and jaw, the shadows that swirled around his shoulders and neck. This was the man you had thought you imagined. And now that you had seen him, you were even more interested in learning more about him.

“Rhys.” His tone was stern. His voice pulled goosebumps to your skin, the deepness fitting his dark and shadowy appearance.

The high lord gave you a pitiful smile, “your bags are in your room, y/n, if you’d like to go admire your new belongings. Azriel and I need to discuss some things.”

You nodded, understanding his words for the dismissal they were. In that moment you also realized that this was the Azriel that Cassian had spoken to you so highly about. You remembered his words, “he keeps to himself… but once you get to know him, he’s a good guy.”

You hoped you could find out for yourself.

As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful stranger’s face, the toned body underneath his Illyrian leathers, and the shadows that seemed to keep him constant company.

You would definitely try to find out for yourself.

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: What your pretty self needs to hear for Valentine's Day ♡

Your heart's message to you + a message from your secret admirer 💌

They say the truth ain't pretty, but coming from that pretty mouth

The truth is fitting, cause you ain't ever talkin' loud

And you know plenty

Yeah, you know what I'm talkin' about

Cause you just get me

Yeah, you so pretty... ♡

Pile 1:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Girl by Destiny's Child

Far by SZA

I MISS YOU SO BAD by iKON

The Lovers, Seven of Cups, & Three of Cups

So what your heart wishes to tell to you is that there is still love out there. You may have previously gotten over an ex, a past crush, or you are in the process of recovering from a break up. In the song "Far" SZA asks Sadhguru how to deal with rejection, in which he responds, "That's great! If nobody wants you then you're free." You have to look on the bright side of things. You also have to know what your worth is. No one else can define your worth but you. You have to be secure with who you are as a person. No one can love the parts you need to heal from. Once you feel fulfilled with who you are as a person. That is when you can form healthy connection with others. I believe you still are hoping for you and this person to get back together but you are hurting yourself even more by obsessing over this person (was going to say focus but instead I heard obsess). Reflect on your current situation and ask yourself, "What wound is this person triggering in me?". What do you need to move on from? To take care of your heart you should do some self reflection. Journaling and shadow work would help provide some clarity. Your heart asks you to not fall back into old habits. Self love is important for your growth, pile 1!

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Time To Love by Red Velvet

Changes by Jeff Bernat

I Think I'm Falling by KOHH

Wallflower, New Love, & Union

There is a new love coming in for you! This person could be shy and likes to admire you from afar. They could be self conscious about some things about themselves as well. The feelings seem to be mutual here. There could be a new crush that you like and wish to speak to, but are to nervous to ask them out of fear of rejection. Don't fret! Confessing your feelings helps build courage. If the person rejects you, then that just means there isnsomeone else better out there for you. It is not the end of the world just because you got rejected. Have a little more confidence in yourself, you are great, pile 1! Regardless, I see you and this secret admirer actually being intimate. Things could develop into something more serious with this union card. So make sure to be open to this energy and give them a chance at love ♡

Pile 2:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Mine by Slayyyter

ANTIFRAGILE by LE SSERAFIM

Post To Be by Omarion ft. Chris Brown & Jhené Aiko

Four of Cups, Eight of Wands, & The Fool

Your heart does not want to be tied down at the moment! I believe it has plenty of love to give lol. You also have no problem with turning people down or vice versa. You are looking for a fling and just wish to have a casual relationship! You could have a lot of options in love and would like to explore things romantically, maybe even sexually. Your heart suggests that you focus on your happiness and learn what pleases you. Love does not always have to be serious. Sometimes short lived romances have the best stories to tell! You will be feeling very confident and sexy in your romantic endeavors.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Boys Wanna Be Her by Peaches

No Flex Zone by Rae Sremmurd

STUCK IN MY HEAD by Twice

Open Relationship, Mature Woman, & Fun Times

This secret admirer of yours is honestly hilarious 😭. I kept getting meme songs and I hs to shuffle again to get a proper message. This could be my queer pile as well 🏳️‍🌈. I'm getting Renee Rapp vibes from your secret admirer, Pile 2 😋. They could suit the 'girl crush' aesthetic or if it is someone who identifies as masculine, they have a very pretty face. They are open minded, flirtatious, and exciting to be around. This person wishes to tell you that you are stuck in their head! They find you to be "so fine" 😜! They would like take you out soon. I'm getting it will be a bar date or they will take you dancing at a night club.

Pile 3:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

More Than Enough by Alina Baraz

Bluffin by Brent Faiyaz

Mona Lisa by Naji ft. Monter Booker

Death, Six of Swords, & Six of Pentacles

Oh, pile 3, bless your heart 🥹. You are someone who has such a kind, gentle heart. You have the purest intentions and for that people can tell how geniune you are as a person. You could be selfless and caring towards others. You have so much love to give that it is obvious to others. I don't see any bitterness in your heart and I feel like your heart wishes to tell you how proud it is of you for being able to find forgiveness. You are leaning to let go of the people who have hurt you in the past. The essence of your spirit is so soft and it's very beautiful to witness. Your heart's message to you is that anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. So don't ever feel like you are not enough because you're more than that. You are this cup that is overflowing with love and sincerity.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

At Your Best (You Are Loved) by Aaliyah

Freaky Deaky by Tyga ft. Doja Cat

LOVE by Kendrick Lamar ft. Zacari

Dating, True Love, & True Gem

Your secret admirer absolutely adores you, pile 3. They see your value as a person and they know that there is no one else like you in this world. You have so much love to give and they do as well. I am getting that they want to literally treat you like a princess/princess - just overall royalty. Their have geniune intentions as well and they would like to spoil you this Valentine's day ❤. (Channeled song: Kiss It Better by Rihanna 💋) for a few of you, you and your specific person could be separated. I see that things will turn out for the better soon. So have faith in yourself and in this person for things to work out. They could offer you some sort of proposal, love offer, or a token of their gratitude to show how much they love you. I see things would be passionate, flirty, and romantic for you and your secret admirer 🎆.

Pile 4:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Green Light by Beyoncé

Standing Next To You by Jungkook

God of Music by SEVENTEEN

Two of Pentacles, Page of Wands, & The Magician

You are such an optimistic person, pile 4! You could be someone who often gives advice to others and help others look on the bright side of things. You radiate such positive energy and it makes you a joy to be around. You could be someone who knows what they want and goes after it. You know how to balance your heart with your brain. Intuitive but also logical. People wonder how you are able to turn your ideas into reality. Your heart's message to you is to keep going after your goals and not let anyone distract you from your dreams. As long as you are happy that is all that matters. Your heart also wishes to tell you that whatever makes you light up inside is meant for you. Whatever your heart is set on whether that's a new job, house, etc. You have the ability to manifest whatever you desire.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Phone Me by Che Ecru

Novacane by Frank Ocean

Own It by Drake

Passion, Friendship, & Communication

For some of you, you could be currently in a "situationship" or have a FWB with someone. While for others, your secret admirer is possibly a friend of yours. This person is conflicted on how to approach you. You may receive a text or phone call from them soon where they ask you about your relationship with another. They could ask you how you feel about them or drop hints that they are attracted to you. The ball is in your park, pile 4, if you decide to be more than just friends with this person.

Pile 5:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Girl Like Me by Alexa Demie

Fulfillment? By Kilo Kish

Baddie by IVE

Eight of Cups, Two of Cups, & Seven of Swords

I am getting like "manic pixie dream girl" vibes from you, Pile 5. Something about you is hard to pin point to others. Mysterious but also so enchanting. You know you are someone who is complex but also so beautiful. You have these interesting quirks that makes you stand out and memorable to others. You are comfortable with who you are as a person and it could have took you a long time to get to a place of being this self assured. You could have a child like wonder as well and it is admirable to others. You could be questioning what direction to take in life and could find "adulting" very hard but don't give up, pile 5! Everything will be okay in the end. Your heart's message to you is to learn what gives you emotional fulfillment in life. Also to not take shit from no one. What's interesting is your face could look quite sweet but you are actually feisty and have a firey spirit. There is a duality to your personality and its attractive. I am getting like Song Jia, Alexa Demie, Wonyoung, & Taylor Russell vibes from you, pile 5. Your heart wants you to embrace your confidence and focus on the abundance in your future. Do not let people drag you down and dim your light. Your heart believes it is time for some self pampering. Set your standards high in love and know that you are deserving of everything you desire. I also believe it is time to burn bridges with people who no longer serve you. How can you live the life of your dreams if other people only acknowledge the version of yourself that no longer resonates with you? If you wish to be the girl of your dreams, you have to learn to put yourself first.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Lilith by Halsey

Ditto by NewJeans

High Fashion by Roddy Rich ft. Mustard

Triangle, Travel, & Spiritual Growth

What is this Single's Inferno?! You have options, pile 5. You could have more than one secret admirer. You could be observing your current options in love and feeling "Well! Let the best person win☺️!" I see people wanting to fly you out and pay for your trips, oh my🫠. One of the people you will date could be popular or have a well known social status. You give people butterflies and some of you may know what affect you have on people, while some of you are innocent to the fact. You could receive love confessions or you may even already have. I feel like you are the type of person who receives love letters, jewelry, candies, and box of chocolates, if not you are going to be spoiled for this Valentine's day! You could meet your secret admirer(s) while traveling or when going on vacation. Your secret admirer's message to you is that they "like you" and hoping you feel the same 💕. They want to understand your love language and words of affirmations / gift giving could be one of their love languages in particular.

Pile 6:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Rose by Miyeon

Honey Dew by Lion Babe

Chanel by TiaCorine

King of Pentacles, Five of Wands, & Queen of Cups

I feel like you are at odds with your heart and brain right now, pile 6. You seem to feel confused about a decision you have to make. I believe you could think things are "sweeter" in other people's lives but that is not necessarily true. I know sometimes we can want what other people have but if it gets to the point of comparing yourselves to others then its not healthy. You have to remember to be grateful for what you have in life. It's okay to want the finer things, but what are you overlooking when you are doing that? Your heart's message to you is to not worry about what other people are doing in life and instead focus on what makes you great of a person. You are just as lovable, sweet, and beautiful.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Congratulations by Mac Miller ft. Bilal

Little Things by Sunni Colón

Aura by Mariah The Scientist

Work, Money, & Long Distance

I believe you and this person are already in a relationship. If not, your secret admirer will be the next person you end up in a romantic relationship with. This person could live further away from you and has a high paying job. They prefer to take on a traditional role of a provider. This person could have a hard time discussing their feelings though and shows their love through acts of services. While you, I feel you are more of an emotional person. You both could have a hard time expressing your feelings and thoughts properly to each other, which would cause conflict. Things might be tense for Valentine's Day. You and your secret admirer could have strong feelings for each other, but there needs to be an important conversation had in order for this relationship to progress. Both of you could be disheartened by this but there's hope! Try to appreciate the little things in your relationship and not focus on being the "perfect couple", for that does not exist. Every relationship has its flaws and all that matters is that you and you partner love each other very much. If it's meant to be, it will be, it won't be something you have to force, it'll come naturally.

[14thgalerie]

under pressure

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: linger by the cranberries

• word count: 2.4k

• genre: angst

— an old piece that i never finished but i just wanted to post something because my account is so dead. i know exams work differently in hogwarts but for this one, let's just pretend that they do a semestral exam also.

“Theo?” You call from behind him, as you enter the common room where he sits in solitude. 

He makes no sound to acknowledge that he’s heard you, simply continuing to stare off into space. Long, slender fingers rhythmically tapping on his thighs.

Ignoring this, you make yourself comfortable on the nearest available seat, angling your body to face him. “You would not believe what I got for History of Magic!” You excitedly begin and with much enthusiasm, “But first you have to guess!”

Again, a silence greets you. This sparks concern in you since it was very unusual behaviour from him. But before you could ask, he emits a curious hum, still not looking directly at you. “What did you get?”

“You’re no fun.” You playfully jab at him, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Anyways! I got an Outstanding! Can you believe that?”

“It would’ve been hilarious if you hadn’t.” Is all he says in a deadpan, hollow voice. “What do you mean by that?” You prod.

“Imagine taking all of my time just for you to fail once again. I would have actually thrown myself off the pitch. ”

The muted glow of the scattered lamps and candles cast shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that mirrors the strained emotions between you and Theo. The distant sound of chatter and laughter in the dorm rooms only served to accentuate the silence that ensued.

He sighs, “I am tired. Tired of your complaining, of your whines, of your stupidity over such a simple course. You are so excited over this when it isn’t something to be necessarily proud of. You know…” Theo trails off in an amused manner as if he has realised something funny.

“I find it funny how you are sitting all proud and excited about this one exam when in reality, it was all because of me. You wouldn’t have even gotten half of what you had if it weren't for me or with the help of the others. Leeching off of us like a goddamn parasite who hasn’t a mind of her own.”

Words fail you, unable to conjure up even a whisper in your shock. You stand up slowly, breathing out an unsteady exhale.

The words break on your skin like whips, cracking and splitting open still healing wounds. 

“I have never asked you for anything, need I remind you? You were the one who insisted on spending your oh so precious time teaching me. Time and time again, I reassured you that I could do it myself because I didn’t want you to waste it on me. Yet, it was always fine with you and you were adamant on doing it so don’t you dare put this on me now.” You grit out. “I have no idea as to why you are acting like a rabid dog, snapping at me unprovoked, but nothing will ever warrant that kind of behaviour. “ You shake your head sharply, glaring at him from underneath your eyebrow. 

You felt yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, confusion with the whole situation making it worse by the second. It was spreading so quickly and far into the recesses of your soul that you would fall to your knees if not for the support of the couch behind you.

Not willing to have him see you break down from his nonchalant words that were deliberately chosen to attack your deepest insecurities— unable to understand how it so easily came from the last person you expected it from. You quickly move towards the stairs, ignoring the weak call of your name. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

Seconds—or was it minutes— slipped away since you have made the decision to lock yourself in your room. Leaving the room before everything gets worse. Surrounding yourself with a number of inked parchments that are filled with hundreds of thousands of words, none of which your brain registers. Despite your earnest desire to find solace with work, it was all futile as they were only mere words on paper that held no significance in comparison to what was brewing in your mind.

Instead, an incessant question pesters you. Was it really something to be so excited over? Lost in a silent deep rumination, accompanied only by the rhythmic flutter of an owl's wings as they flew past your open window and the rustling trees to occupy the silence. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

The clock is still there to remind me of the hours that have passed— 3 and a quarter to be precise.

Perhaps you were being too over the top but you hadn’t meant to. The pure, unadulterated exhilaration overwhelmed you after Professor Binns called you aside after your last exam. It had become an accepted knowledge to you that History of Magic wasn’t necessarily your strongest suit. Enough so that it would’ve been perfectly fine for you to receive a less-than-average result.

To hear how exceptional you had done this time, possibly even greater than many of your classmates, your mind instinctively went to share your achievement with Theo. After all, he was the one who patiently dedicated hours guiding you in your review and it took precedence over his own. Assurances, that came off as more of arrogance, of how he would do just fine and that he could ace it even if he wore a blindfold.

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Could it have been the lack of sleep before? He does get a bit irritable with a lack of rest. You’ve seen it personally in the weeks that lead up to Quidditch games. The fatigue, in addition to the stress of the final exams before the holidays, must’ve steered him into that state. 

Despite feeling upset and somewhat finding fault within yourself, you couldn’t muster up the will to apologise first. While his behaviour tonight could have been explainable, for goodness’ sake, the way that he has gone about it was unwarranted— shouting and hurling the harshest words that he is capable of, at you. The person that rejected every offer, made by him, because you were scared to impose on his studying hours. Now he cannot even be happy at what you had worked so dedicatedly on with him?

After spending hours in the cold and dark room, doing nothing but ruminating on the argument, you realise that you refuse to allow his words to dampen your joy and excitement any more than they have already. Sitting up straight, you stretch your arms wide. Swiftly tidying the scattered papers and dried pens into an acceptable arrangement in your trunk before you settle down beneath your duvet cover. Giving up on the idea of getting any work done when your mind was elsewhere.

The both of you made plans to have a sleepover in your dorm room after your roommates announced that they would be spending the night elsewhere. However, it will be safe to say that the idea had crumbled into non-existence after the heated exchange of words between the two of you. 

As you lay there on your side, facing the stone wall with your back to the door, you couldn’t help but reflect on your argument. A hailing storm brewed in the furrows of your mind, unable to piece together what exactly you should do. The only thing you wanted was to hear his beating heart beneath you as you lay on his chest. But you knew that it wouldn’t be right for yourself to concede.

Of all the ways that you’ve imagined for him to react, what had truly occurred did not even appear in your mind. It left you tossing and turning in frustration and confusion, unable to fall asleep in peace. Only the warmth and lasting scent of his cologne on your duvet keep you calm— the realisation that you couldn’t even properly be mad at him makes you huff.

In the silent war within you, you were deaf to the aged door groaning in protest as its rusty hinges emitted a creaking sound that left the person behind it wincing. Nor did you hear the unusually gentle footsteps that followed.

So much so that even the shadows that lurked within the walls would have thought that the footsteps were a figment of their imagination. In the way that the presence hesitated outside of your room as if they were heavily contemplating.

It was only at the weighted dip of the bed behind you and the hesitant arm that crept around your waist that were you pulled from your trance. Yet, you bore no intent of recognition for him even as he had fully suited himself behind you with his chin tucked in the crook of your neck.

As his presence enveloped you, he began with a slight tremor in his voice. “Y/N…I-“

“I could write and speak a thousand sorry’s and reasons for why the words had so easily slipped from my lips, but they will never unspeak them from existence. I promised your mama that I will never let a speck of hurt flash across those eyes, and I will forever apologise to her for breaking that promise.” A shaky exhale lines the last few syllables. “I was so unnecessarily horrible and mean to you without meaning to. So consumed by this- this emotion that flooded me, something that I had lost control over.”

Every syllable was accompanied by a hesitant tone that left the words sounding shaky; nervous. Coupled with the drop of tears that lined your neck right where his head sat.

You listened, listening to his apology, but the wounds were still fresh. The echo of his sharp words runs deep beneath your skin, embedded into your bones, prickling with every second you are reminded of them. The sincerity in his voice clashed with the pain he had caused with his words, leaving you torn between the desire to understand and the reluctance to let go of the hurt.

“You really hurt my feelings, Theo.” If he wasn’t already drowning in misery, hearing his name fall from your lips after he worked many weeks to be called something else had him gasping for breath. “I genuinely want to forgive you, but at this moment, I can’t quite find it in me to do so. You blew up on me for absolutely no reason. I need you to help me understand, to give me a reason behind your outburst, not mere words of guilt. Because even if you say sorry a thousand times, I would never be able to forgive you for clearly attacking me where I would greatly feel it.

His voice, meek in the tense air between the two of you, unfolded with a raw honesty that lays bare his desperation for this to be over.

“The exhaustion from lack of sleep and finding that I barely got a passing grade…It was a bit too much for me. I have no idea why it even bothered me when, for so long, I could hardly give a damn about these stupid exams," he shared, sighing with exasperation.

A pang of guilt and shame flared within your chest at the knowledge. The initial shadow of hesitation and guilt that crept on you the days before came rushing back in. You should’ve known better than to allow him to persuade you. Turning around on the bed to face him. But before you could wallow yourself in these emotions, Theo quickly puts your mind to rest.

“Don’t blame yourself, darling.” He tenderly pushes a thumb against the forming frown on your forehead. “I should have told you that I needed to study also instead of leaving it to luck. I guess I was being a bit of a confident prick that got used to not reviewing for an exam that I fully forgot I missed a few lectures a few weeks ago. I truthfully never had and never will blame you, not when I had been the one, adamant enough, to help you out despite your protests.”

His admission carried a mix of self-awareness and remorse. The vulnerability that was clear in his words began to bridge the hesitance inside of you to relax, the layers of miscommunication slowly peeling away. 

You could sense the weight he carried. Despite his casual indifference to his studies, you knew that it was something that he silently prided himself in. To have that be ruined in addition to the cumulative stress that built up over time with his hectic schedule. Being reminded that even if he may seem so perfect on the surface, beneath that, he was still human; flawed, vulnerable, and young. Although the hurt had begun to shift, not fully dissipating yet, it had turned into a sense of empathy that allowed you a clarity of thinking.

A small, understanding hum escaped you. The strain in your voice is gone now, ”We need to work on our communication, then. No longer hiding things from each other for any reason, even if we think it does not matter. Part of our relationship is to work our problems side by side, even if it doesn’t concern the other. We shouldn’t have things fester until it explodes on us.” 

He nods, burying his head back into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You gently pull his head back and look at him fondly. “And we need to also address the way you spoke to me earlier. Just because we were in the heat of the moment and lost in our emotions does not mean you have the right to do that, not when my mom raised me without raising her voice.”

“I’m really sorry. Merlin…I can still see the look on your face and I don’t think I would ever forget and forgive myself for being the reason behind it”. “I won’t say I forgive you just yet, that’s a boundary crossed for me. We should’ve had this talk in the beginning but better now than never. Let’s take a pause for now, and resume this conversation with a clear head.” He met your gaze with a blend of appreciation and a sense of resolve. 

masterlist

[katnisspeetaprim]

How Did You end Up Here?

Platonic!Alastor/Reader

Summary: Alastor couldn't quite understand how someone like you ended up in Hell,so naturally he wanted find out. (I tried my best with this one. Sorry if it's bad!) Requests open!

Warnings: implied fem reader, platonic relationship, mentions of abusive relationship, mentions of murder.

Word Count: 1450 Hazbin M.list

You hadn’t been in Hell long, but you were already getting used to your new home. Safe to say you were doing better than when you first arrived anyway.

Charlie had found you on your first day, cowering in an alley way. You’d be forever grateful to her for helping you that day, and introducing you to her hotel reform programme.

That’s how you met the radio demon, Alastor.

He was intrigued by you the second Charlie marched you through the front door. He stood back and observed as the hyperactive princess excitedly introduced you to everyone.

Alastor didn’t miss the way you curled in on yourself with a blush when everyone gathered round to greet you. You clearly didn’t like being centre of attention. He decided to step out of the shadows to introduce himself.

‘Oh Y/N this is Alastor! The hotel wouldn’t be possible without him!’

‘Oh you give me too much credit! But Y/N dear, charmed to meet you!’ You were taken aback by the strange man in front of you. His voice was off and the way he was grinning down at you was... unnerving.

‘Ummm nice to meet you.’ You looked away and played with your fingers nervously. ‘I’m new to Hell.’

‘Well I can see that my dear.’ He shrugged nonchalantly, before leaning down closer to you with a glint in his eye. ‘You seem very timid for a sinner I must say.’

You didn’t know if he was trying to taunt you or  if he was just stating a fact, because he was right after all.

‘Uh yeah, I guess...’ You trailed off with a nervous chuckle, not really wanting to get into your situation right now.

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Charlie quickly pushed her way between the two of you, stating that her and Vaggie were going to show you round. You sighed in relief, happy to follow the two women if it meant you were out of the spot light.

All the other residents went back to what they were doing before your arrival, all except Alastor that is.

He stared after you with slightly narrowed eyes. This could be interesting.

Over the next few weeks, you’d gotten used to the eccentric bunch of misfits that inhabited the hotel, even becoming friends with them, Alastor included.

The radio demon really wasn’t as scary as you first thought, he was arguably the person you had gotten closest to in the short time. You’d always been fascinated by old media when you were alive, so when you found out he was a radio hot back in the day, you couldn’t help but be curious.

Alastor was thrilled to have someone take an interest in his work and wasted no time taking you on a tour of his studio, something that the other residents couldn’t quite believe happened.

‘My dear you seem to be adjusting to Hell splendidly!’ Alastor approached you as you sat in the lounge, nursing a cup of tea.

‘Oh hi Alastor! Yeah, definitely not as scary as my first day.’ You smiled at him as you placed the cup down on the saucer.

‘Yes, much less like a shaking leaf now I must say.’ You laughed lightly and pushed some stray hair behind your ear.

‘Yeah well, all of you here helped with that.’ You smiled fondly, so grateful to your new friends.

Alastor knew your guard was down. Now would be a great opportunity to learn more about your story.

‘I couldn’t help but notice you’ve yet to leave the hotel alone, could that be something to do with how you ended up in Hell? If I may be so bold to ask.’ Alastor just asked you point blank, the signature grin never leaving his face.

Your own smile fell slightly at his question and you looked round uncomfortably, trying desperately to avoid eye contact, and making sure nobody was around to over hear.

Alastor was still grinning down at you, patiently waiting for your response.

‘Umm... Can we go somewhere private to talk?’ You wanted to finally open up to someone about your death, but that didn’t mean you wanted everyone to know all at once. Hopefully it would do you some good to get everything off your chest.

‘Why certainly! Follow me dear.’

Alastor locked the door behind him and gestured for you to sit down on his furniture. As you looked round his room, you couldn’t help but notice that it was oddly normal. For someone as vivid as Alastor, you’d expected more personality to be in this room. Though, he does spend most of his time in his radio tower.

Aslastor sat opposite you and crossed his legs, placing the cane he was never seen without by his side.

‘I’m all ears my little doe.’ Alastor prodded for you to start talking.

‘well uh-‘ You picked at some loose thread at the hem of your skirt, still somewhat unsure of yourself. ‘I killed my boyfriend.’ You burst out suddenly, just wanting to get it out.

Alastor was a little taken back by your sudden confession, having been prepared to do some prodding before you finally said it but he quickly composed himself.

‘My that is surprising. I never would have pegged you as a killer.’ He shrugged his shoulders, before his eyes darkened and his smirk got somehow wider. ‘I should know.’

You shrunk back a little in your seat, unnerved by his sudden dark turn. You weren’t sure why you were so surprised honestly, he had to be in Hell for a reason. You made a mental note to bring it up to him at a later date.

‘It’s not what you think!’ You quickly jumped back in. ‘He was an abusive asshole .. And I just couldn’t take it anymore...’ You looked down with sad eyes. There was a beat of silence before Alastor spoke up.

'Murder will get you a one way ticket to Hell, even if the scum did deserve it.’ He stated as a matter of fact. Alastor was a bad person, that wasn’t up for debate, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t call someone out for being evil.

You smiled a little at his words. It felt good to be validated.

‘But if that sad excuse of a man is dead, then how did you die?’ Alastor wondered out loud, knowing he hadn’t gotten the full story just yet. You scoffed before answering.

‘One of his guys just so happened to come by after I did it. I don’t remember how he did it, but yeah.’

‘Hmm.’ Alastor was digesting all the information you’d just dropped on him. It all made sense now, how someone like you ended up in Hell. Before Alastor could respond, you spoke up again.

‘I guess my ex will be here somewhere too... That’s why I haven’t been out alone since I got here.’ It took a long time for you to leave the hotel for the first time with Charlie, terrified that you would run into him. Charlie never pushed you for an answer as to why you were so scared, but she made sure you knew you would always be safe around her.

‘What an interesting development.’ Alastor smirked to himself, deep in thought again. You stared at him again, still confused.

‘Alastor?’ Your voice seemed to pull him from his thoughts.

‘Oh don’t mind me dear, just thinking things over.’ He spoke with a surprisingly cheery tone to his voice as he waved you off. You nodded with a sigh, knowing you wouldn’t get any information out of him.

‘Thank you for listening to me Alastor, it really means a lot.’ You gave him a real smile. Probably the first time you’d really smiled since your arrival. It really did feel good to finally get everything off your chest.

‘Don’t mention it! But I would like to know everything about this coward.’

That request definitely caught you off guard. Your brows furrowed as you thought it over.

‘Why?’ You cringed at how meek your voice sounded once again.

‘Nothing to worry about dear, just information for future reference!’

It only took a matter of hours for Alastor to track down the bastard. You’d given him quite detailed information about him and what his personality was like.

Plus Alastor had many connections all over Pentagram City, so finding the man was child’s play honestly.

Alastor had finally cornered the man in a dead end alley way. He was shaking with fear, tears running down his face as he looked up at Alastor looking down on him.

‘Now my pathetic fellow, just how should I deal with you?’

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Not All Bad

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: smut, sexual tension, car chase

Summary: You and Bucky are called out for a mission involving a very powerful and very dangerous nuclear bomb. The thing is, you two hate each other yet you two are the best for the job. Tensions skyrocket when you have to get closer than normal in order to make a safe getaway.

Squares Filled: adventurers/explorers (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

You know why you’re going on this mission. You know why Bucky is going on this mission. You don’t know why you’re going together. You don’t care what Bucky has done or is capable of, you can’t stand the man. He’s quiet and minds his own business but you two clash every time you’re around each other. 

You’re normally a mellow person but there is something about Bucky that makes you want to commit violence. You two are very competitive against each other, you’re always trying to outdo the other, and you’re always bickering. You think you’re always right and Bucky thinks he’s always right. You don’t like his attitude because when he’s not being quiet, he’s cocky and arrogant like an old man is. The same thing could be said about you, but you’re not as bad as he is. The other Avengers have put your bedrooms on the opposite side of the compound so they wouldn't have to hear you two.

This mission is quite simple: get in, grab a nuclear bomb, and get the fuck out. That’s easy for you because you’re a shapeshifter who can shift into anyone just by looking at them, and that power has gotten you into every sketchy situation that the Avengers have thrown you in. Normally, you pair up with Steve because he has the super strength but he’s on another mission right now.

The only one who has his level of strength is Bucky. Plus, his vibranium arm is a major advantage for you both.

Shadow Corps stole a nuclear bomb from Russia and smuggled it into the States. The government wants you to grab it before they can use it. Whether or not the Accords were passed, you were still gonna take this case because no bomb should ever be put on American soil. After getting the bomb, the next team which includes Clint, Natasha, and Sam, will go in and arrest as many as they can.

The getaway car is waiting in position on the other side of the warehouse in Tony’s stealth mode. It will only activate when you and Bucky get close to it. There are bracelets that you two are wearing in order for the car to scan. The place is crawling with heavily armed guards with probably twice that inside. You have to do this quietly.

“Wait here. I‘ve got this,” you smirk.

Bucky growls lowly but does as he’s told. He knows his way will only end up with blood soaking everything. You’ve done some recon for Shadow Corps in the past, so you’ve seen what the big boss looks like. With ease, you transform into the big burly man and walk down the small hill toward the only entrance. The guard posted there stands up straight when he sees you walking toward him. Good. This man you’re impersonating demands respect.

“Sir,” the guard nods once.

“I need the bomb to be moved now. Someone tipped the police off. Get everything ready for transport. Go tell the others.”

“Sir--”

“Do I strike you as a man who likes to be repeated? Go, now.”

“Yes, sir.”

The guard scurries off to presumably tell the others. Once he is gone from ear and eyeshot, you turn to Bucky and give him a thumbs up. Bucky comes out of the shadows as you turn back into yourself.

“You’re welcome for making your job easier,” you grin.

“Bite me,” he growls.

You follow Bucky inside and keep your eyes peeled for any guards who might be coming your way. Tony provided a map he got from Friday, so you’re using that to get to the bomb the quickest way. This mission is all about time. You have to be fast. When word gets back to the actual boss, he won’t be happy that they’re moving the bomb. Luckily for you, he’s in another state doing business.

You turn the corner onto a straight and narrow hallway. The only way to get out of the hallway is either to go back the way you came or through the door on the other side of the hallway. You take two steps when the door on the other end is being pushed open. You turn to run the other way when you hear voices around the corner. If you don’t do something now, you’ll be caught and probably killed.

You can get out of this. Bucky can’t. As much as he irritates you, you kind of need him. There is a supply closet to your right that you’ll have to squeeze into if you want to make sure this mission is a success. You yank the door open and shove Bucky inside before sliding in yourself. The door barely closes when both parties on either side of the hallway come into view.

The closet is small enough as it is for the supplies in there, but it’s claustrophobic with you and Bucky. He’s too large of a man for you to fit comfortably. Your chest is pressed against his chest so you can either focus on the feel of his body against yours or you can focus on his eyes. You look up to see him already looking down at you.

You’re an idiot if you don’t admit there is some sort of attraction between you two. You know there is. You can’t do anything about it. Not only would that probably create problems for either of you, but it would only fuel his ego.

You can’t have that.

The closet is dark enough so you hope that he doesn’t notice you looking at his lips. As soon as your eyes lock onto his mouth, he licks his lips slowly. He’s the subject of your dirty dreams and now all you’ll be thinking about is his tongue.

“The coast is clear.”

Bucky opens the door and slips out with ease. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding and force your breathing to return to normal. You follow Bucky down the hallway and to the room where the bomb is being held. There are no guards around because they think this place is so secure that they don’t need to guard the one thing people can’t steal. Not that they could if they wanted to. There are so many guards here that it would scare the average person.

“Okay, you’re up,” you say.

As much as you’d like to be, he’s the muscle.

“Just be a good girl and make sure no one comes in while I do the heavy lifting.”

You roll your eyes but do as you’re told. You stay by the door and listen for anyone who might be coming. Bucky approaches the bomb and studies the best way to handle the device. For something that packs a massive punch, it’s not that big. Tony crafted a container that could hold something this powerful, so the only thing Bucky has to worry about is transferring it without setting it off.

You look out the small window on the door and see a big guard with an even bigger gun coming your way.

“Bucky, someone is coming.”

“I’m kind of busy at the moment. Take care of it.”

You transform back into the bossman and step out of the room. The guard stops walking and becomes ashen when he sees you.

“Boss.”

“What the hell are you doing here? Do I pay you to wander around? Do you have a brain inside that thick head of yours?”

“Sorry, sir, but--”

“But nothing. Do I have to do everything myself around here?”

“Sir, the cars are ready for transport. I was on my way to secure the package.”

“What about everything else we have here?”

“We’re having trouble securing some of the product in such a short time. I figured we should get the bomb out as soon as possible.”

You step closer to the guard and he does the smart thing and backs up in fear.

“If I have to leave here and do your job, I’ll have to call your wife and let her know you’re not coming home. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Get everything packed up now. We will get this bomb out when it’s time. I need everything out of here.”

“Yes, sir.”

The guard leaves and you slip back into the room as yourself.

“Okay, I’m ready to pack it.”

Bucky carefully lifts the bomb and places it into the open container on the ground. He closes and locks the case knowing the wires in there will keep the bomb from moving. Bucky picks up the heavy case and allows you to leave the way to the car. As soon as the car senses both of your bracelets, it shimmers into view, and you unlock the trunk. This car was made specially to carry bombs such as the nuclear kind. It has a lead lining so that scanners won’t be able to pick it up, and the traction on the car is durable so if you hit a pothole or go over a bomb, the car won’t shake or move.

“Hey!” You and Bucky look behind you and see two guards running at you with radios to their mouths. Shit, you’ve been made. “Stop right here!”

“We gotta go.” The alarms sound throughout the facility and red lights flash brightly. “Just shove it in there!”

Bucky carefully puts the bomb in the trunk and you slam it shut before hopping into the passenger seat. As soon as Bucky is in the car, he starts her up and peels out of the place. Three cars immediately start chasing after you, and you look behind you to see how close they are.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who hates you. You’re insufferable to everyone,” you smile sweetly.

Bucky makes a sharp turn which causes you to grab onto the “oh shit” bar.

“Don’t act so innocent, Doll. They’re after you, too. I guess we’re both insufferable.” He looks in the rearview mirror and sees them getting closer. “Do something!”

You unbuckle your seat belt and roll the window down all the way. Before Bucky can question what you’re doing, you heave yourself out the window so that you’re sitting on the frame. You have the seatbelt clutched into your hand so that you have an anchor point, and you aim your gun at the cars. You shoot twice and run one of the cars off the road. Their tires blow and they go crashing into the tree.

“You might want to try the sunroof. It might be easier,” Bucky says.

“Now you tell me,” you roll your eyes.

Two guards start shooting at you, and you quickly duck inside to avoid being hit. Bucky opens the sunroof and points to his gun in the backseat.

“Try mine on for size. It’s bigger than yours,” he smirks.

“That’s the only time you’ll ever be able to tell a girl that.” You grab his gun and make sure it’s loaded with a few hundred rounds. It’s a machine gun so once you hit that trigger, dozens of rounds come out at once. You’re about to stand when the car jerks to the right. The second car in line has hit your car, and you almost went through the open window. “Try not to kill us, will you?”

“Shut up.”

You stand through the open sunroof and aim the machine gun at the second car. They don’t even have a chance. You fire dozens of rounds at the car and shatter their windshield. The car jerks so hard that the car flips twice before skidding to a stop.

“One to go!”

The last car has taken a different route instead of staying right behind you. Instead, they are zooming through the trees which makes it hard for you to get a shot from where you are. They are gaining speed and if you don’t do something soon, they are going to ram their car into the side of yours.

“Okay, new plan.” You duck back inside and look at Bucky with a sigh. “I’m gonna need you to trust me on this one.”

“I don’t.”

“Too bad. Just make sure we don’t crash.” You toss Bucky’s gun into the back seat and grab your much smaller one since it’ll be easier to use it with your plan. With light difficulty, you hop over the center console and right into Bucky’s lap. You’re facing him and his shocked eyes meet yours briefly. “I know you’re enjoying this but eyes on the road, Barnes.”

You roll down his window and aim your gun at the car that’s heading right your way. Bucky wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady and presses on the gas. You aim at the tires and blow one of them but that doesn’t stop the car from barreling right at you. You empty your entire magazine and manage to shoot right through the windshield and into the driver’s head.

Bucky speeds up so that the car doesn’t crash into you. Instead, it smashes into the tree on the other side of the road. You sigh in relief and look at Bucky who is looking between you and the road. It’s like you’re back in the closet with him. Tension is high and adrenaline is coursing through your veins.

You can feel the tension on your inner thigh.

“That better be a gun in your pocket.”

“Nope,” he smirks. You roll your eyes but he’s done putting up with your shit. “Cut the attitude before I give you a reason to roll your eyes.” You shift to get off his lap but the arm that’s wrapped around your waist tightens. “Don’t move.” He drives like that for ten minutes before pulling over knowing they’re not following you two anymore. He leans his head back and stares into your eyes, allowing the tension to grow. “Fuck it.”

Bucky grabs both sides of your face and pulls you into him so he can kiss you. The second his lips touch yours, it’s game over. He growls when you grind your hips down on his either in frustration that you’re getting his cock hard or in lust for the exact same reason. He reaches to the side of the seat and pulls on the level that puts the seat back even though he pretty much has it all the way back. You reach over and pull the lever that lays the seat back, and he moves his hands down to your hips to grip you hard.

Even without that vibranium arm, his fingers will leave bruises on your skin for you to admire later.

You kiss down his jaw and to his neck where you nip at his skin, hard enough to leave behind marks. This between you two has been a long time coming so Bucky doesn’t want to waste any time with you right now. He pulls you back up to his lips and kisses you while snaking his hands down to between your legs. With an effortless tug, he rips your pants in half at the seam.

“What the fuck?” you mutter and pull away from him. “Your cock is so desperate to get wet that you couldn’t wait for me to take off my pants?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says and pulls you back to his mouth.

You reach down and undo the button and zipper of his jeans before reaching in and gripping his cock with one hand. God, he’s so big that your entire hand can’t fit all the way around him. Good thing you’re a shapeshifter and can stretch as needed. It also means you can make it as tight as you want.

You pull it out and pump twice before moving your panties to the side. You position him right below your entrance and only slide the tip in. Bucky slams the back of his head against the seat in frustration but you’re not gonna make this easy on him. Unfortunately for you, Bucky is a lot stronger than you. He braces his feet on the floorboard and thrusts up while pulling you down on him. You don’t even have time to react because he’s filling you up deeper than you thought possible.

“Fuck!” you gasp and brace yourself with one hand on the seat by his head.

He starts with a ruthless pace, pounding up into you like his life depends on it. The car immediately fogs over at the increasing tension, and you slam your hand on the window which leaves behind an imprint.

“God, you’re such a good girl taking all of me. You’re so tight.”

“I can go tighter,” you smirk.

You lean down and kiss Bucky sloppily while he reaches down and slides his hand into your pants so he can thumb your clit. That plus the angle in which he’s thrusting is enough to push you closer to the edge. You know you’re close when the pressure is increasing, and you start to clench around him to show him you’re getting there.

“Awe, does my Doll want to come?”

“Mmhmm,” you whimper.

“Not yet.”

“Please, Bucky.”

“I said no.” He reaches up and grips your throat with his flesh hand. He slows down his thrusting only to go deeper. “Fuck, I’m close.”

“Then come.”

“You first,” he grins. “Come for me.”

Bucky rubs your clit in hard circles and that’s enough to push you over the edge. You gasp and moan as the waves of pleasure rush over your entire body. Your pussy spasms and clenches his cock, and he moans as he shoots his load into you. He thrusts a few times to ride out your high before relaxing into the seat.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” you chuckle tiredly.

“Just wait until you see what I’m like in a bed,” he smirks. “Let’s go home so I can worship you properly.”

“Lead the way,” you smirk and move off him.

Well, Bucky’s good for one thing. He’s not that insufferable.

x

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[throneofsapphics]

finding you again, part one

Azriel x f!Reader

summary: after he ended your relationship, you didn’t expect Azriel to pop into your life again - and you’re not happy about it

warnings: references to utm, war, disease

a/n: sorry for the delay! part two coming in the next few days, if anyone wants to be added to a taglist, you can comment under here or send me an ask/message!

series masterlist

Shockwaves of magic swept through Prythian and the surrounding islands at once. It felt like the ground beneath your feet shifted. Once, twice, three times - and you heard shouts from around you. You took a brief moment to thank the mother that it wasn’t just in your head. 

You picked up the basket, sprinting back towards your home. Herbs flew out of the sides, but you’d go back to collect later. Whatever this was now, it was huge. You felt it in your bones, something in your world was changing, everything seemed to come to a standstill - the rest could wait. 

The entire island was tense for the next few days, everyone waiting to see what did happen. Whispered murmurs of the possibilities, of the could-be’s, of the tentative hope blossoming - a hope nobody let show publicly. 

Secluded by yourselves, the wards you’d collectively put together at the beginning of Amarantha’s reign, near impenetrable, made news difficult to come by. 

Three days later, a tingling sensation on the back of your neck woke you. It was gone by the time you’d rushed into your kitchen, fingers white-knuckled around a dagger. 

Two letters. One addressed to the inhabitants of the town, wax sealed with the stamp of the Night Court. Next to it, one with just your name. 

Shaking hands, unsteady breaths, you ripped it open, ignoring the sting of a small cut on your index finger.

Your eyes flew over the words. The paper began to fold under your tight grip, edges wrinkling. 

Unsteady breaths, a lone tear dripping down your cheek, it took minutes of pacing and intentional breathing to collect yourself. 

Bringing it back to your room, you climbed half under your bed, sliding a loose board aside and shoved the letter inside, sliding a box over it. That couldn’t fall into the wrong hands. 

Grabbing the other envelope, swinging your door open, a cool spring breeze hitting your face, reddening your cheeks and nose, before heading to share the news. 

You ignored the other implication of the situation. The particular scent lingering on the envelope. You hadn’t thought of him in years, and now wasn’t the time to start. 

-

“The High Lord wants to visit,” the older female breathed, eyes wide as she turned her gaze to you, before frowning. “Why would he ask?”

“He could be having difficulty getting through the wards,” her mate said, covering the female’s hand with his own, mouth curving at the corners, a twinkle of pride. Well deserved, he had painstakingly designed them. 

“Or he’s sending this as a courtesy, they got the letter to us after all,” she snorted, but returned his smile. 

You knew who’d sent the letter. The hint of night chilled mist and cedar so unique you couldn’t have imagined it. 

With Madja’s help, you’d gotten permission from Rhysand to leave Velaris sixty years ago, for a while able to visit every few months until…

You subconsciously rubbed the bargain tattoo on your ribcage. Three stars surrounded by a circle, your promise to never reveal the location of Velaris. 

-

Azriel knew his brother needed a distraction, and frankly - he needed to leave the damn city. The once safe haven that had become a necessary prison. He was too self-aware to discount the other reason, the need to lay eyes on you and see that you were safe, at least somewhat. 

Rhys shot him a curious look when he volunteered too quickly - when Azriel had raised the idea. 

“There’s wards surrounding the island,” he schooled his face neutral - the spymaster, doing his job, “are near impenetrable.” Except perhaps by you or me, he didn’t need to say aloud. Yes, he’d sent shadows to scout the area soon after the curse broke, and they’d brought interesting reports in turn. 

Rhys nodded, and Azriel sat across from him as he wrote out two letters, sealing and sliding them across the table. 

One was addressed to … you. His blink of surprise gave him away.

“You know her?” Rhys’s eyes glimmered. He’d been discreet with his lovers, and of course he was aware Rhys knew, but just because he’d thought of you didn’t mean he wanted to share with others. But … the amused expression in Rhys’s eyes wavered, revealing some of the strain beneath. 

A distraction, that’s what his brother and High Lord needed, and perhaps he could do with a touch of vulnerability. 

“We were involved … before she left.” 

“I know,” Rhys smirked. For fucks sake. “Why do you think I let her leave and keep knowledge of Velaris? It was obvious she could keep a secret - she never said a word about your … involvement, to anyone else.”

Again, something he knew, but he had the decency to show a touch of surprise. 

Azriel raised a brow, a gentle nudge against the shields barricading his mind, and he lowered them slightly. 

“You’re willing to make a bargain?” Rhys leaned back in his chair, you seated before him, fidgeting and brimming with energy. 

“Yes,” your voice was strong and firm. 

“Very well,” his mouth turned up at the corners, a smile designed to put people at ease - it worked on you. 

The bargain was fair and concise. You could leave Velaris, and return as you wish as long as you never revealed or hinted to the name, location, or existence of Velaris. 

Azriel pushed Rhys out, slamming walls back in place. “Why are you showing me this?”

“You want to investigate the island, don’t you?” He wanted to slap the smirk off the other male's face. “She’s one person you know intimately,” Azriel rolled his eyes, “who lives there.” 

“I doubt she would speak to me,” he retorted dryly. 

“You’d be surprised what time and distance can do,” he countered. Az shook his head, he wouldn’t let false hope sink in, hope of regaining your … friendship. Maybe seeing you, even if it was just once, would be enough. 

-

A day later, Azriel stood on a cliff, wards pulsing with magic in front of them. Rhys to his left, Mor flanking his other side, they waited for … well, he wasn’t entirely what. For someone who would let them in. Rhys had sent a charmed parchment, designed to deliver their answer immediately, and everything in the letter sounded perfectly enthusiastic. 

Magic parted enough to reveal an older female and male - centuries older than themselves given the wrinkles starting to line their faces, appearing as if they were close to fading. Both carried themselves with confidence, but a warm and open demeanor as they bowed deeply. 

“Thank you for coming to see us,” the male rasped. 

He took brief notes of their names, the introduction, while sending discreet shadows to poke around the rest of the wards and small community. Due diligence and routine instinct now. They eyed him just a touch of caution, but it didn’t phase him, it never had. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “we’ve prepared lunch.” 

“Not at all,” Rhys smiled, the warmth in his tone almost matching the one he used with the citizen’s of Velaris, still laced with subtle authority. 

Less than a quarter of a mile, and they approached a quaint looking town. Stone houses, slightly corroded by salty air, but built sturdily - ready to weather any type of storm. Sure, he’d heard all of this through his shadows but seeing had a different effect. Paved pathways, a few different shops and a tavern. 

“Not much of an economy now,” she was telling Mor, “we trade what we can, all help each other out. Kept to ourselves the last few decades.” Kept to ourselves. 

‘They locked themselves away,’ Rhys’s voice flooded through his mind. “The community is small enough that Amarantha didn’t bother looking.” But they’d been a vital trading port for the Night Court before. He was surprised she’d ignored it. “I was too,” Rhys said. 

Ignored, but she’d considered them anyway. A sickening feeling coiled in his gut. If Amarantha had gotten to you … 

“The healer you recommended,” the male spoke to Rhys, pulling him from his mind, ''saved all our lives when a disease swept through, ‘bout thirty years ago. A great female.” 

“One of the best healers I know,” Rhys replied. It was the truth. As far as healers went, you were one of the best available. He wondered if you knew the other reason you were sent here; If Hybern were to attack the Night Court, they all suspected this Island would be the first target, and a skilled and trustworthy healer was needed on the ground. On the front lines. That sickening feeling returned, and Azriel knew he needed to set his own eyes, not just shadows, on you before he left. 

-

You couldn’t avoid the lunch, not without raising suspicion. Maybe he wouldn’t be there. He was the spymaster, after all, not usually sent to do courtesy visits. Still, this had been the talk of the town for the last two weeks. 

‘The High Lord,’

‘Do you think he’s as handsome as they say?’ 

‘He isn’t mated or married, is he?’ 

Mother above. You had to try and match their excitement, to blend in. They couldn’t know you grew up seeing him frequently in Velaris. All they’d known is you apprenticed with one of the Inner Circle’s preferred healers - and even that was a rumor you’d never confirmed or denied. 

Hand braced on your doorframe, three conscious breaths, and you pushed it open, forcing your hands to relax at your sides, keeping your strides even and steps paced. 

A small crowd had gathered outside of the largest tavern, and you weaved yourself into the fray, balancing on your toes to catch a glimpse through the open doors. 

Hazel eyes connected with yours, and your stomach dropped. 

Just your luck. You couldn’t bring yourself to break the gaze, the way his eyes searched you, the brief hint of relief in them. Why the hell was he relieved? He’d made it perfectly clear you meant little to him, and now he meant nothing to you. 

Slipping backwards, you tore your gaze away and slipped down the street. 

-

“Go ask her some questions,” Rhys had thrown a hint of command into his tone. He wanted Azriel to gain some kind of information from you. It made sense. He wanted, needed, to see you anyway. “I’ll keep everyone distracted.” 

Easy enough for him, Azriel took the next chance to melt into the shadows, to follow you. You led him right to a secluded cliff, sitting a few safe paces back, arms wrapped around your knees, squeezing tighter and he approached from the side - in your line of sight. 

“What do you need?” He wasn’t surprised by the harshness. Pausing a good few paces to your left, he sat, legs kicked out in front of him, bracing his palms on the cold stone. 

“To ask a few questions.” 

“Go ahead,” you muttered, still keeping your eyes off him. 

“How did you remain hidden all of these years?” 

“Magic. Wards. Things Fae more skilled than I created.” 

Truth, a shadow sung in his ear. 

“Who?” 

“You probably already met them,” you groused. He fought back a smirk, he’d forgotten how cute you could be when you were grumpy, and promptly wiped that idea from his mind. 

“Tell me anyway.” 

You listed the two who’d greeted them. Not surprising. It also told him it wasn’t quite a secret, especially with the brief pride flashed in your eyes. 

“Did you have to … give anything to it?”

“Ask them.” 

“I’m asking you,” he countered mildly. You wouldn’t get away with evading his questions. 

“A bit of blood and a bit of magic.” 

He hummed. Rhys would probably ask similar questions, but it was good to hear from another source. 

“Why did you need to come here?” Venom filled your tone. 

“By our High Lord's request,” Azriel said dryly. 

-

By our High Lord’s request. Of course there was no interest in seeing you. You were merely a bonus, a person he could easily ask questions to. You hated yourself for letting the thought cross your mind. 

“I wanted to see you, as well,” you almost missed the softly spoken words. 

“What made you think I want to see you?” You shot at him, finally turning to face him.

“I didn’t say that,” a brief flash in his eyes. “I said I wanted to see you.” 

“You’ve seen me,” you waved a hand. “Any more questions?” Brief silence. “Good. Leave me the fuck alone.” Forever, the narrowing of your eyes said. 

“You should know,” he tilted his head back, this time escaping your gaze. “I didn’t forget about you - I” 

“Just stop,” you hissed. “I don’t want to hear it.” 

The implication struck you - others had forgotten, and he knew that. Azriel leaned forward, eyes on the ocean, knees raising and forearms bracing on them.

“Amarantha may be gone,” a shiver ran down your spine - at the name, and the low and deadly tone, “but Hybern will still cause issues.” War. “Rhys will give the same warning to your town today. Velaris and here may be the safest places in the Night Court.”

“Is he asking us to open the wards?” Because they’d do it in a heartbeat, and you knew that. 

“Perhaps,” Azriel said, and turned back to you, hazel eyes searching for something. “You’d be safe here.”  

“If there’s going to be a fucking war, i’ll be there. Healing.” 

“I know,” an unrecognizable set of emotions flashed in his eyes. “I’d see you there.” 

“I hope not,” you countered, keeping your eyes fixed on the waves, on the white foam topping them. A current so violent only the strongest swimmers braved it. “I might not like you, but I don’t want to see anyone,” you emphasized, “hurt.”

Azriel nodded, and rocked forward, rising to his feet. He offered a hand to you, you ignored it, pushing yourself up and facing the path back to town. 

“Stay safe, spymaster,” you looked over your shoulder, “and do it far away from me, won’t you?” 

A grin crossed your face at the brief ire reflecting on his and you strode off.

taglist: @mellowarcadefun @acourtofbatboydreams @sheblogs @macimads  @sirens-and-moonflowers @tele86 @kalulakunundrum @anxious-study @mika-no-sekai-blog @judig92  @randomperson1234sblog @fightmedraco @caraaaaugh @thelov3lybookworm @tothestarsandwhateverend @fxckmiup @scatteredstardustt @tooweirdtolive-toorareto-die @redcap3girl @boygeniuses10 @anuttellaa @aunicornmademedoit

[miniwheat77]

Watch it burn. (Ghost x Reader.)

!this is pure smut, you've been warned. absolutely no minors. age gap, sex pollen, unprotected p in v sex, violence!

Ghost was hard headed and everyone knew that.

He didn't always communicate too well and sometimes he kept things to himself until it was unhealthy but that's who he was. He was a damaged person. He had walls up like fort knox. That was just Ghost. Not many knew about his past, but when you came along. Things started changing in weird ways that everyone on base never really seen coming.

Ghost seemed irritated by you at first. You were still pretty new to everything and needed some training but Laswell and Captain Price had both taken a liking to you and decided pretty quickly that you'd be a great addition to the team. It was an easy decision.

When you officially started on base, everyone fell in love with you immediately. Aside from Ghost obviously. You were still a little immature and Ghost didn't like that. The military wasn't meant for people like you and that caused a rift between you in the beginning. Slowly though, you started to prove yourself to him. When he was training you followed him around like a lost puppy asking him for tips and asking him to show you the best ways to stay in shape.

When he was in charge of you on missions, you always buckled down and followed everything he said to a T. You didn't act out or try to make light of any situations. You were mature when you needed to be and maybe that's where he started to grow soft for you. Ghost was always alone. He liked to work alone.

But once he'd gotten used to you being by his side all of the time, he almost hated it.

You followed him all over base. You ate each meal with him, even had a watch shift with him. You stuck by his side so often people started referring to you as his shadow.

At first, he didn't like it at all. Had even blown up on you for following him around so much which in turn got a taste of a side of you he had never seen.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? You're so bloody annoying. I'm not your fucking dad. Go away." He growled. You stopped in your tracks. Eyes narrowing.

"Is that an order, Lieutenant?" You had asked, which in turn made him roll his eyes at you.

"You're being ridiculous."

"No. I don't think so. Because unless you're giving me orders, you don't talk to me like that."

The hair on his body rose and he swore he'd never been so angry. But even as he stepped closer to you, you stood your ground. "Excuse me?" He asks. "You heard me. I'm not a kid, and you sure as shit aren't going to talk to me like that. I'm keeping you company and maybe I'm not doing that for you. Maybe I'm doing it for me." You step closer to him, his nose nearly touching yours. "And I know you're not my dad. But unless you're trying to meet him, lower your voice when you talk to me."

Your voice was quiet, but steady. Letting him know that you were not playing around.

He found out through Price the next day that your dad had passed away at some point in your childhood.

He'd never run to apologize to someone faster in his life.

From that point on, he'd gone easier on you.

---

It was a mistake.

A simple mistake that he knew he shouldn't have made as a Lieutenant.

You were the first to be infected.

Captain Price had sent the both of you on a mission. Meant to be a simple one of course. He sent his best he said.

You'd gotten a gash on you, but something was on the knife. Your veins started to glow. Pink almost as Ghost had described, which resulted in your eyes to roll back. He barely caught you as you passed out.

He quickly found a room and barricaded you inside. He needed answers.

After ambushing a man and dragging him inside with you, he started asking questions. "What was on the knife?"

"Was it poison?"

"How long does she have?"

But only seemed to get laughs from the man who he had tied up.

"It's not poison." He grits his teeth. Ghost is sure the knife in his leg is what's making him talk at this point.

"It's a drug."

Ghost grits his teeth. "What is it?" He slams him back into the wall. "So help me god if you don't start talking." He growls. Grasping the knife that's still in his leg, going to pull it out. "WAIT!" He yells, stopping Ghost. "It's..." He pauses. Looking down. "It's a reproductive drug."

Ghost looks at him confused. "What?"

"It's meant to increase your sex drive. Your body goes into overdrive." He hisses. "Reproductive organs work twice as hard and the hormones in the drug help induce pregnancy. It's.. still in the works." Ghost looks back at you. Still unconscious.

"What do you mean it's still in the works?" He asks.

"It's deadly in higher doses. It started out as a drug but it made it into the wrong hands and now it's a weapon." He breathes. "So.. she's going to die?" Ghost asks.

"Well.. Technically yes." He sighs. "Unless." He trails off. "Unless what?"

"How long ago was she infected."

Ghost looks down at his watch. "37 minutes ago." He looks at the man. "So.. In about.. 10 minutes. She'll wake up. Her body will feel hot and she'll probably be more aroused than she's ever been. And if you can stimulate her enough.. Her body might come down from it."

"If you can survive that long." The man laughs.

"We're gonna be just fine."

Ghost grabs hold of the knife and draws it back, where he had stabbed into the mans femoral artery starts to spurt blood out and in seconds the man is no longer alive. Ghost knows he needs to clear out the rest of the compound and come back for you.

He sets a timer on his watch and starts possibly the most stressful mission he's ever been on.

He's moving quietly but quickly, taking everyone he crosses by surprise.

But unfortunately, he gets infected.

Knife wound to the arm, just like you. He watches his veins change and knows he doesn't have long.

He doesn't know what to do yet and Ghost hates himself. You shouldn't be here. You're too new.

When everything is clear and he's sure of it. He's rushing back to you.

He pushes the desk away from the door and gets back inside, barricading it from the inside. "Ghost? What's going on?" You ask. He feels sick to his stomach. He sighs as he turns around, nervous to face you again. "I... I'm sorry Y/N." He breathes. "What?"

"Your wound.. It's infected with a drug."

"Please tell me you aren't gonna say sex drug?" You breathe. Making him narrow your eyes. "I must've heard him in my sleep." You nod to the man who's leaning over now. Ghost kneels down next to you. "I'm sorry Y/N. I never should've let you come here with me." He sighs.

"That wasn't your decision Ghost. It's not your fault."

He shakes his head. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do."

"Are you infected too?" You ask.

He nods his head. You sit up. "I think you know what we have to do Ghost." You look at him. Your face is deathly still. Letting him know just how serious you are.

"No. Absolutely not Y/N." He shakes his head. Standing up. He starts to pace the room. He's scared. "You'd rather die?" You ask. "No. No of course not. I just... Y/N. I can't do that to you." He shakes his head.

Ghost knows that you trust him. He trusts you too. You even opened up to him about how you were still a virgin because you'd only been in one serious relationship.

That one person who abused you and hurt you in ways that Ghost could kill for. Ghost never looked at you like this and he hates that this is his only choice. "I can't do that to you. I'm not gonna hurt you like you've been hurt. You deserve way better than this Y/N." Ghost feels like he's got an open wound in his chest at the thought of forcing you into something like this. He hates himself for allowing Captain Price to send you along on this mission with him. He didn't want to take you down with him like this. Before he realizes it, you're standing right in front of him. His racing heart steadies in his chest as you reach for his hand.

"Ghost. If we don't..." You trail off, looking down at the ground before taking a deep breath and raising your eyes up to look at him. "If we don't do something, we're going to die. You heard what he said. You and I both saw it. Saw the paperwork, the smoke bombs. This... it'll kill us if we don't." You look up at him. "And.. I don't know about you, but I don't want to die like this." You laugh.

"I can't do this to you Y/N." He hisses, clenching his eyes closed. "Come on, lets go somewhere without. You know." You glance toward the man slumped over at the other side of the room. Grasping his hand and dragging him into another room down the hall, conveniently, one with a bed. He sighs. "Sit down." You force him back onto the edge of the made bed. Luckily this was an upkept building. You take his hands in yours, moving between his legs, feeling him stiffen up immediately. "I trust you, Ghost."

He goes to speak up, but you stop him.

"You are honestly my best friend, and I know you probably don't see it the same way I do. But I trust you. You've shown me so much. Taught me so much. You protect me and you always put me first. I trust you to do this Ghost."

He clenches his eyes closed again. "I am your friend Y/N, of course I am. But.. I'm so much older than you. I thought you looked at me like a father figure, not like this."

A hiss leaves your lips, and Ghost can Physically see your veins turning pink under your skin. It seems unreal. Like something out of a movie. He knows if anything is going to happen, it has to happen now.

"Are you okay?" He asks. "Yeah, yes." You take in a deep breath. Knees feeling weak. "It's... Intense." You breathe. He grasps your hips, sitting you down next to him. "Fuck.. Lay back okay? It's gonna be alright." He breathes. "He.. He said stimulate. He didn't say sex." He breathes. Seeing you nod your head.

He helps you remove your cargo pants. Pushing you further up the bed. He swallows hard. He wants to curse himself, feeling himself get more aroused at the sight of you. It's just he drugs, yeah.

Just the drugs.

He lowers himself into you. Wrapping his arms around your thighs. "I'm sorry Y/N." He breathes.

His tongue dipping into you has you gasping out, clutching at the sheets. His eyes feel heavy as you react to him. You taste sweet and he wants to savor it. He wants to ask for forgiveness and take even more. It's just he drugs. It's just the drugs.

Your back arches and you cry out. Tears streaming down your face. It's just not enough.

"Ghost." You sob, making him look up at you.

"It's not enough."

Any of your veins that were visible under your skin are no longer blue in color, but pink. Your skin is beat red and hot. He grits his teeth as he reaches for his waistband. Once he'd gotten himself free, pants down at his mid thigh, there's no going back now.

He moves himself over you, taking a deep breath. He presses his forehead to yours. "I'm so sorry."

Feeling him penetrate you, piercing into you. You can't help but cry out. He grits his teeth, eyes clenched shut tight. He loves this and he hates this. This isn't how he would've wanted this to happen. He rocks his hips into you, body swallowing him up so perfectly. He forces you to look at him, pushing your hair out of your face. You're sweaty and it's sticking to you. "Are you okay?" He asks. You nod your head. "Yes, yes." You whine. You're out of breath. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He asks. "No, please." You claw at him. "Don't stop." You're nearly sobbing when you say it.

"Harder." You whine. "Y/N.. I'm gonna hurt you."

"Ghost." You grasp his face, forcing his mask off. You're surprised when he lets you. "You're not going to hurt me. I don't want you to be sorry." You breathe. "I want this, I've wanted this. And it's not the goddamn drugs talking." You breathe, staring him in the eyes as you say it. It's like a pin dropping in a silent room when those words leave your lips.

"What?" He asks.

"I've felt this way for a long time. Thought about it all the time. How you treat me so well and protect me. How you always come to my defense, you care about me."

"I do, I do care about you Y/N. But I'm no good for you." He grits his teeth, eyes filling with tears as he rocks into you harder. "That's bullshit and you know it." You claw at the sheets, tilting your head back as he drives himself into you harder. "I wanted you to. Wanted you to be the one to take it- I was going to ask when this mission was over."

You're choked up.

"I love you, Simon."

He loses it, chest tight. Tears stream from his eyes and he doesn't want you to see. Burying his face into the crook of your neck. You using his name, his real name. It's raw.

"Goddamnit I love you too." He sobs, drawing his hips back and burying himself inside of you again. Biting down on your neck. You look up at the ceiling, feeling his weight on you. Everything finally starts to sink in. Tears spill over the corners of your eyes as he works you to a high you're sure you'll never come down from. You clench your eyes closed once more, allowing yourself to feel everything. His pants and sobs in your ear, knowing that he feels this way too. They're getting unsteady and you know by how sloppy his thrusts are getting that he's getting close.

Feeling him, every inch of him. Sliding inside of you, drawing you closer and closer to the brink of pure bliss.

You're gone when he mumbles into your ear.

"I love you Y/N."

You cry out, the sounds leave your lips uncontrollably. He lowers his hand, rubbing circles over your clit. Pushing you through your high. The first time you've ever cum at the hands of someone else. He groans out, drawing away. He stares down at you. His eyes are bloodshot and his eyes are still watery. "I love you Simon, I trust you." You cup his cheeks with your hands again. "Give yourself to me." His body shakes as he reaches his high. Groaning out. He rests his forehead on your chest, trying to calm himself down. Relishing in the pleasure he feels. He knows he needs to calm down now, he's too worked up still. His heart pounds in his chest, but as he relaxes into you, it settles. He stays like that for a while. Calming himself down. When he finally pulls away, sliding out of you. He lies next to you. Pulling you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you. It's silent for a while, but he finally breaks the silence. "I'm so sorry Y/N." He breathes. Hearing you laugh lightly. "Simon..." you trail off. "Why do you keep saying that? What do you have to be sorry for?" You look up at him, eyes piercing his. "Because you deserved so much better than this." He breathes. "Yeah? Like what? An uncomfortable barracks bed?" Your lips raise in a smile and he laughs. "You're such a brat." His chest shakes as he laughs. "It's my best quality, thank you very much." You sit up, climbing over him. Straddling his hips. "I wouldn't have wanted this to go any different. Listen." You tilt your head back. "Hm?" He asks. "Nothing but silence." Your eyes flutter closed and he breathes out, resting his hands on your thighs. Thumb gliding up the inside. "Did I hurt you?" He asks. You shake your head. "No. Not even a little." You breathe, laying your head on his chest. He covers you with a blanket. Wrapping his arms around you and holding you right. "Simon?" You mumble. "Yeah darling?" He asks, pushing your hair out of your face.

"I want to be with you."

He takes a deep breath. "I'm serious. I want everything with you. I want the good days. The bad ones too. I want a life with you, and it's okay if you don't want that with me. But I think you should know." You sigh, relaxing into him. You're completely relaxed. You're always relaxed even in dangerous situations with him. He keeps you safe. "We'll talk more about it when we're out of here.. okay?" He trails off. You nod your head against him.

—

The fire reflects in your eyes, they're glossy. Simon stands next to you. Arms crossed over his chest. His mask is on again, but pulled down around his neck.

The building is nothing but burning flames now. Everything that happened inside is a memory now. It's gone. "It's pretty huh?" You turn to look at him. He laughs. "Yeah, it is." He smiles. "You think it'll be all gone? The drug and everything inside?" You ask. He wraps an arm around your back, pulling you into him. "I'd like to hope so. But.. I don't think this is our last time crossing paths with this." He looks back at the flames. The warmth on your skin feels nice. "Let's get to exfil, yeah?" He looks down at you. "Wait-" you stop him as he goes to walk off. "Simon?" You ask. He turns his head to you. Taking him off guard by pressing your lips to his. He's frozen for a second, but relaxes into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. You cup his face again.

When you pull away, you grasp his balaclava. Raising it over his nose once more. "Let's get out of here." You smile. He grasps your hand, pulling you along with him. Picking up all of your gear and returning it to where it belongs.

[hoe4sports]

Intuition

Jessie Fleming x reader

Note from the author: the train to angstytown is leaving. This is a fic to highlight women in abusive relationships.

If you experience domestic violence, please seek help at your closest emergency line.

Summary: After growing up with Jessie and dating your way through college; you split up. Years later you play for the same team, but Jessie has a bad feeling about your newly acquired fiancé. You need help, but you don’t know how to ask for help.

Warnings: Mentions of domesticated violence.

-

You sat in front of the mirror wondering if this is it. This situation that you have gotten yourself in is turning into a living hell. But you can’t help it. It’s addictive.You realise that can’t navigate the situation anymore, the reigns are beyond your control. The eggshells are becoming too many and the scares are taking a toll on your health.

On the table infront of you, is your bright pink hairbrush and your makeup. You grab your hairbrush, brushing your hair slowly. It hurts when you brush it, as your scalp has become sensitive due to all the impact it has taken. But, it’s okay, you think. She dosent mean it. You used to love your hair. It was your greatest asset. When you were a teenager, a young girl, all you wanted was to have long beautiful hair. But now, all you want to do is to cut it off. You feel like it holds you down. It’s like chains covering your arms and feet. Like if you were to go for a swim, you would drown in the lake from the weight of the chains. Gosh, you think to yourself. You don’t even recognise yourself anymore. The shadow of the person you used to be is slowly becoming too heavy to carry by yourself, but the thought of having to admit the truth feels even heavier. However, if you are gonna make it out of there, you are gonna have to share the backpack filled with rocks with someone else.

You have been weighing out the options you have for a few weeks. There is a short window of time coming up. It’s less than a weekend, but if you can get someone to help you then you’ll manage to get done in time. But you have a doubt in your mind, then again, she probably dosent mean it.

Every time your work up the courage to tell someone, you freeze. Gosh, why is this so hard you think. This isn’t love, but your fiance just happens to be stressed. She doesn’t mean it, you think. There is a lot of stress at work. And you haven’t really been the best partner. You had left your toothbrush on the sink the other day and she had flipped like a switch. Telling at you about anything from her pants not being washed to the glass you left on the counter. Whenever this happens, you do your best to stay silent and calm. It’s okay, you think. She always apologises afterwards when she calms down, and she says that she is gonna change for the better. But, change takes time, you think. Maybe all your fiance needs is more time. For you to be more flexible. More empathetic. More understanding. More helpful. Less annoying. Less frustrating to deal with. Maybe you just needs to find a way to be good enough for her, perfect for her. But you don’t know what to do to become perfect because your fiancé has told you that you are the furthest thing from perfect. You don’t blame her, she’s just telling the truth you think. She doesn’t mean it as a negative thing, it’s all said with good intentions you decide.

A few hours later, you arrive at practice. Jessie instantly sees you and her cheery self comes over. She knows that you have been pulling away, but her mind is fighting over whenever to say something or not. At the end of the day, it isn’t really her business. But really, it is. You used to be close. Not just the kind of close where you had sleepovers at each others dorms or the kind of close where you know the other’s favourite foods or colors. It is the kind of close where she knows what you are thinking before you do, they call it intuition. It had started back when you were neighbours in Canada as kids. You went to kindergarten together, middle school, high school and somehow ended up in the same dorm at university. 20 years together with someone does something about you. She knew you like the back of her hand, and you knew her. It had been a few slip ups with you two in high school, but only when partying. You had kissed her, but she had forgotten. She had admitted her feelings to you, but you had forgotten. It was the circle that neither of you knew how to get out off until Jessie admitted to liking you in College while laying together to watch a movie. You couldn’t really remember why you broke up, but it was civil. Jessie knew you better than anyone else. And that was why she was worried. Her nights would be filled with what if’s and questions about how you were feeling and what she could do to help.

Jessie’s intuition started ruffling her mind when she met your fiance just shy of a year ago. You and Jessie had been dating in college, but when Jessie left to play overseas; one of you had called it off without really knowing why. It was heartbreaking. Soulshredding. Decapitating. Jessie was the kind of woman that was too good for this world. She would always bring you coffee. Or let you borrow her half zip. Or drive you home and wait until you had gone inside until she drove away. Jessie never wanted you to be perfect. She actually never wanted you to be anything that you didn’t want to be. A part of you still wishes that you stuck together after college. But Jessie deserved better. Jessie was perfect. She was just so perfect that it hurt seeing her with the last woman she dated.

Jessie shortened s the distance between you and greeted you with her typical bright Jessie smile. You had been playing together for a a year now, but Jessie knew you. She knew that something was off. She knew that you were engaged, but she never sees your fiance at your games. She noticed that your fiance never posted anything of you online. You always excuses her with that she was busy or that she really dosent care for football. It’s was lie. Your fiance told you that until you started playing better, you didn’t deserve to have someone watching you. She said it was waiting her time. It felt embarrassing to her when she had to watch you make mistakes on the field.

“Hiya Y/N, excited for today?”

You look at Jessie confused. A part of you freezes. If you have forgotten something important, your fiance will punish you for it. Taking your phone away. Making you run laps until you throw up from exhaustion in the pouring rain. Have you sleep outside in the dog’s house. Jessie notices you scared look, and you reaction dosent help her fears.

“Hey Jess, what’s today exactly?” You say with a treble in your voice.

“Media day! You and me have a few hours of media duty together, just like the old days”

You smile softly. Shit, you think. Shit, shit, shit. That means that you will be late. You won’t have dinner ready for when your fiance comes home. Your fiance will be furious. Enraged. Disappointed. God, you think. You promised her that you would be better, but here you were again. Not getting better. The worry creeps up on you while you sit down next to Jessie’s cubby. You rub your knees anxiously. The beauty of worrying about a lot of things is that many things can be done on autopilot. Like tying your cleats. Like putting on your shin pads. At one point you went from being excited to put them on to feeling worried and anxious. Like you wanted to throw up. Not over if you could score a goal or not, but over what your fiance would think of you. Pathetic. Fiasco. Disappointed. All words that she had used to describe you. You decided to try to push it to the back of your head. To a spot where you don’t have to think about it. You figured you would just dissociate until practice wqs over.

-

The media woman brings you and Jessie into a room of “who’s most likely to”. You feel your heart become lighter. It’s something that won’t cause issues between you and your fiance. She won’t have to worry. And you won’t have to feel scared. The woman is going through how the game works. Your head won’t allow you to focus. Instead you straighten your shorts and make sure that your sweater is zipped up. If it isn’t zipped, your fiance might think that you are trying to get attention from other women or that you have cheated on her. If your shorts is too short, she’ll think you are a whore. All her rules are taking a toll at you. But you try to suppress it, and it seems like you are doing a mighty fine job. But only for the moment.

“Who is most like to get a yellow card?” Jessie reads. You both point to you. Phew, you think. No argument. But your fiance is going to be pissed about you being known to getting yellow cards.

“Who is most likely to score a goal?” You read. You feel stressed for a second. You are a forward, but you suck. You are terrible. Not even sure why you are allowed to play football for a living. You point towards Jessie, who points towards you. Shit, you think. Jessie disagrees. You pray that she won’t be mad. Jessie raises her brow at you, but you ignore it.

“Who is most likely to control the music in the lockerroom?” Jessie reads and she instantly points towards you. “Just this afternoon, she infiltrated my ears with Sabrina Carpenter.” She said as she shoves her shoulders in yours. It makes you smile, and you nod into the camera. You feel slightly more comfortable.

“Who is most likely to forget something?” You read. You let out a small giggle before pointing to Jessie. She raises her hands. And you smile. “Jessie used to forget everything in college, it was so bad that I started carrying an extra of everything in case she needed it”. You say before looking down. You could feel your protective wall lowering. Jessie smiled at you before playfully rolling her eyes. “I can’t even deny it! I’m sure you can find tons of pictures of me running around with her number on it” Jessie finishes before slapping your knee playfully.

“Who is most likely to try to argue with the referee?” Jessie reads before giggling. “Y/N here, would always defend me when we played back in college. She would practically fly across the field to argue with the ref or the opponents if needed.” Jessie finishes leaving you blushing. Shit, you think. If you blush, your fiance might think that you like Jessie. Well, you do like Jessie. But you won’t admit it. That was probably how everyone felt about someone they dated in college, right? You look at Jessie who points to you, and you give a shy smile before pointing to yourself.

-

“My name is Jessie Fleming, and this was who is most likely to with Y/N. Thanks for watching!” Jessie finished and the crew stopped recording pleased with today’s footage. You looked over at Jessie who hopped out of her seat while taking the time to thank the crew for spending time creating content, you nodded in agreement.

-

As you were entering the locker room, you both headed to your own cubbies. You were busy trying to find a new pair of socks and slippers that had somehow gotten lost in the cubby. Your brain was trying to figure out how to tell Jessie that you needed help. That you needed her. But you were scared to step on Jessie’s new girlfriend’s toes. You were terrified to overstep your boundaries.

Jessie decided to break the awkward silence that was building up.

“So, how’s Hannah?”

You froze at the sound of her name. Scared of what you were allowed to say and what you weren’t allowed to say. The situation was turning into what you needed it to be, but also what you dreaded. You wanted to fall apart infront of Jessie. To have her scoop you up and hold you, like in college. Have her take you home and get your things before letting you stay at her place until you had yourself sorted.

Your eyes turned towards Jessie who were still awaiting a response. You fiddled with your engagement ring. A ridiculously big rock. Nothing like you wanted. You wanted simple. She gave you big and flashy. Jessie knew this. She knew that you despised the ring, but that you didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Jessie knew because she had wanted to purpose to you after college. She knew everything from how you wanted to be purposes to, what you wanted to wear, how you wanted your nails done, the size of the ring and even the type of ring. Jessie had gotten so far that her grandmother had handed down her engagement ring to Jessie, so she could purpose with something extremely meaningful. You longed for Jessie, and Jessie longed for you.

“H-Hannah? Uh, she’s working.. uh, a lot” you stuttered while feeling your eyelids burning. Your head was pounding. Your heart was beating so hard in you chest that you felt sick. The blood was rushing in your ears. It felt like all the nerves and receptors in your brain was twisting making the room spin.

“Oh really” Jessie said very much unimpressed as she huffed. You turned to look at her and she was busy fighting with her curls. She never liked Hannah. She felt as if Hannah rushed you into a relationship and an engagement. The proposal was nothing like Jessie knew you wanted, perhaps that made Jessie hate her even more. Hannah had purposed just shy of a year of being together. She had guilt tripped you into saying yes, telling you that if you’d say no that you would be a brat, ungrateful and a terrible partner.

“Is she still busy being the equivalent to a walking asshole?” Jessie spat out before closing her cubby hard and turning around to look at you. You didn’t know what to say. You felt like all the air was sucked out of your lungs. A single tear fell from your cheek. It was quickly wiped away in an attempt to cover up the damage that your fiancé had done.

Jessie was now getting suspicious that her intuition was right. She had felt weird about the relationship since day one. Her hate from Hannah had increased every match day when she saw how heartbroken you were when she wasn’t there to watch. She’d watch you turn into someone you never were. A complete stranger to whom you really were.

“Is she treating you good? Like really properly good?”

Jessie sat down next to you, both of your faces turned forwards. Her hand slowly laid itself on to of yours covering your engagement ring. She couldn’t help but wish that it was her ring on your hand. Her hand gently stroke yours and she scooted closer to you. You felt her side touch your side. Tears were now forming rapidly in your eyes.

“Sunny? What happened to you? You were always so happy, smiley and always laughing. My mom always called you sunshine”

Jessie asked. Her hand reached for you cheek as she wiped away some of the tears you had flowing. They didn’t seem to stop. But you didn’t make a sound. It made Jessie’s heart hurt even more. She didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make her seem biased.

“Do you remember the family bbq? That was when my mom called you sunshine for the first time. I asked my mom about why she was calling you that, and when she told my why I insisted on calling you Sunny. “ Jessie continued.

She was right. Her mom would always call you sunshine. You were always a happy kid. Always smiling, laughing and talking away. The joy of being alive was radiating through your eyes, as a child. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to answer Jessie, but you didn’t know how. You needed help to get away, but the words felt so big. So strange in your mouth. Like they were a foreign language you had yet to learn.

“You really were my sunshine, you know? My sunny.You are still my sunny.” She said as she laid a hand on your back. By now, the tears were constantly streaming down your face. You cried silently, not letting a sound out. The sight broke Jessie. This side of you was a stranger to her. You threw your arms around Jessie. She held onto you while your tears streamed down your cheeks. Your eyes were red from crying. Your mind exhausted from trying to be someone you weren’t. You looked up at Jessie who smiled sadly back at you.

“Help me, Jess” you whispered as you cried your brave tears. Jessie pulled you in tighter and kissed the top of your head, like when you were kids and your great grandmother passed. You felt strangely safe. Like you were transported back to college. To your good days. To your best days.

Jessie looked down at you while holding you. She whispered into your ears. “I’m gonna get you out of there, Sunny.” Her voice broke when she saw your sad face.

“Because you were my sunshine”

[fr3aklike-me]

night in with a stranger ☾⋆｡ ๋࣭ ⭑˚

contains: vampire lesbian sex (straight ppl NO this is not for you), narrator is referred to as having a "cock," reader is referred to as having a "pussy," "cunt," "clit" and "breasts," reader is called "silly girl," cunnilingus, corruption kink (+ inexperience kink?? i guess), d/s dynamics, v slowburn, implied blood-sucking desires + tendencies (so ofc warning for blood mention)

note: this story is inspired by this ask and this ask, so thank you so much to the anons who sent this!! this story is very overdue, but yes, i've finally finished hehe. also, yes, this is meant to be a vampire scenario, but the vampire tendencies in question are very vaguely alluded to (one, because i was unsure how to go about a vampire!narrator as i've never written one before, and two, i thought it might be interesting to make a part 2 where those tendencies are more explicitly revealed to the reader and incorporated into the characters' sex lives)

On a cold, fall night, you find yourself lost. You didn’t mean for it to happen – you were retrieving a hot drink from the market during such a bitter evening, eager to return home and curl into the softest cushions while drinking it. Somehow, however, on the way back home, you got lost in the forest and when you emerged from the thick, looming trees, you were met not with your village, but wide, rolling hills of green, blanketing the ground for miles.

Needless to say, you are now panicking, head swivelling in all directions, desperately trying to grip onto any sense of hope that with the sky dark, the leaves of the tree a shadowed emerald, the hoots of owls cooing from the depth of the trees, you could find your way home. You fumble with the flimsy cloak you’re wearing, goosebumps skimming along the surface of your skin, a stark reminder of the fact that you will need shelter soon. 

You realize that walking through the forest is most likely not a good decision, for who knew what creatures lurked beyond the towering trees, so you make your way along the hills, hoping to complete some estimate of the same distance you made to arrive at this point, so perhaps you can find the entrance of the forest you entered through after visiting the market. A weak plan, but you have no idea what else to do.

After an hour, you find not a glimmer of hope to be found amongst the trees. Surprisingly, instead, you spot an orange flicker on a raised hill beyond the expanse of greenery you’ve been trudging upon. The single beam of light vaguely shows the outline of a dark manor, and despite your nerves, you force your way there. Hopefully, the owner is someone who is kind enough to afford you a warm meal and bed for the night.

At least, this is the story you tell me when we’re seated across from one another in my manor, warm candlelight casting a golden glow to your features as you explain your situation and plead for a spare room. It is endearing, to see you practically begging. Your hands wrap around the cup of tea I brought to you, your cloak still wrapped tightly around you. With the fire running, I can already see the beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

You are the image of loveliness. So shy, so sweet, so embarrassed to be asking for a favour. 

“Of course you can have a room,” I say with a smile, and you beam in response, gratefully setting the cup down and clasping your hands together. 

“Thank you so much.”

I wave a hand with a smile, eyes flickering over your pretty eyes, and your lips, shiny from when your tongue has darted out to lick them. Nerves, I suppose – you are in a stranger’s home, after all. “Why were you all by yourself on such a dark evening?”

You explain your small journey to the market, bashfully eyeing the ground. “It’s embarrassing, having gotten lost so easily.”

“In your defense, it is very difficult to navigate when the sun sets as early as it does now.”

Your lips curl up. “Have you ever gotten lost in these parts?”

I shrug, spreading my arms along the arms of my chair, crossing one leg over the other. “No. But, I have lived in this home for many years. It is only natural that I would know these parts well.”

“How long have you resided here?”

I pause, tilting my head at you. “Perhaps ten years. Though, in the last two or three years, I’ve come to accept that I will spend many decades here, most likely.”

You took a small sip of your tea, eyes watching me through your lashes. Such endearing eyes they are, so attentive in their watching of me. “Do you live here alone?”

I nod. “Yes, I acquired the property from a relative who left it to me in their will.”

“You alone, in this large home, with nothing but hills upon hills for miles…” you drifted off, eyes scanning the ceiling above us and the detailed artwork that coats it. “It sounds rather lonely.”

I smirk at your kind sympathy, and lift my leg off from the other, spreading them out and bracing my elbows on them, leaning forward. “You’re very kind, miss, but I quite like my arrangement.”

I can hear the gulping noise from your throat when you swallow. Once again, your lips part to swipe your pretty, pink tongue along them, getting them slick and wet with spit. You release a heavy, trembling breath at my sudden proximity and close gaze. “Um, why is that?”

“It affords me the privacy I need to… entertain any guests,” I say lowly, nearly chuckling when your eyes widen, blinking fast at my insinuation. You press your lips together, moving them slowly, and I can sense the hesitation you feel, eyes flickering between myself and your lap.

And yes, your lap. From here, I can see your legs moving closer together, squeezing, thighs probably pressed against what lies between them. Your pretty fingers fist into the fabric of your clothes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you raise your eyes to meet mine. “What room would you propose I take?”

I cock my head to the door behind you, leaning back into my seat. So, it seems that you perhaps are interested, but do not desire to go further. I would not push it. “The South Quarters will be the warmest.”

“What quarters are your room in?” you ask quietly, eyes narrowed on your hands.

“North,” I mutter, taking a sip of my tea, raising an eyebrow from the question.

You hook your bottom lip in your teeth again. I can feel myself throb at the action, your lips so pretty and practically aching to be sucked on until they’re swollen. I can just picture biting into your plush bottom lip, toying with it lightly, sinking into them a bit deeper, sucking and running my tongue along to soothe it. Would you make any noises? Would you gasp, moan? Whimper softly? Or squeak in surprise?

My internal questions cease when you finally speak. “May I take a room in the North quarters?”

I can practically smell the arousal from you, dripping from your pussy and pooling where your underclothes are. It makes me mull on what kind of thoughts must be running through your mind, and how long they’ve been occupying you if you’re this wet already. It’s a heady, strong scent that all of a sudden kills the ability to focus on anything other than how much you deserve to be taken care of. My nostrils flare at the scent, and all of a sudden, I can just picture being nose deep in your cunt, breathing you in, letting your scent get sucked in, burying my tongue in you and watching you fight the urge to look down at me. 

Your legs are still locked together, knees rubbing, and once again, you wet those pretty lips, maintaining eye contact with me as you do. It’s difficult to determine whether the action is unintentional, or if you’re truly becoming aware of the way my fingers dig into the arms of the chair, or the way I spread my legs just a little bit further, desperate to have you sit on my lap.

Before any of that can happen, however, I steadily say, keeping my tone levelled and kind, “There is no need to owe me anything for letting you stay the night. You can truly have whichever room you desire, and we can retire separately.”

A tiny whimper is your response, the noise coming from somewhere deep and tight in your throat, the noise gentle and soft enough that you probably believe that the cough you give afterwards is enough to hide it. Unfortunately for you, though, you are completely unaware of how clear the noise was to my ears. How I cannot even dream of letting such a lovely noise escape me. So delicate, so unintentional, so shy, yet so telling of everything you want tonight. After your adorable little coughing fit comes to an end, you quietly say, eyes focused on the ruffled collar of my shirt. “I know. I did not ask for a room in the North quarters due to a sense of obligation or owing you.”

You lower your gaze bashfully, and it makes me wonder what it would feel like to directly meet it amongst all kinds of angles. When you’re on your knees for me, those pink, pretty lips wrapped around my fingers, or a part even lower. When my face is tucked in between your thighs, and you’re staring down at me. When my forehead is pressed against yours, eyes frozen on yours as I inch in–

I clear my throat, rising to my feet and sauntering to where you sit. Your eyes flicker over me, and I can hear how your heart begins to pump faster. Once I’m just a pace in front of you, looking down at your nervous, timid expression, I quietly ask, “Then, why are you asking for one?”

Your mouth twists and curls, nervousness clearly holding you back from answering. My fingers twitch, pausing momentarily, before I place a gentle palm on your cheek. You lean into it naturally, as though your bodily instincts possessed no other possible reaction, and I stroke my thumb against the texture of your skin, back and forth, lulling you into comfort. “Tell me.”

You clear your throat, and I can feel your skin heat beneath my fingers. “I want to know… how you entertain your guests.”

I suck in a deep breath, pleasure surging through me at your answer. My eyes wander to your lips, which part with a quiet wet noise, eager to take in whatever I have to offer. Just the mere motion is enough to send my cock stirring. I stroke my thumb across the corner of your mouth, nearly shuddering at the smooth softness of your lips, the tip getting coated in the inner wetness of your mouth, which widens further. I dip my thumb in deeper, going slow and holding back on my eagerness. When the rough pad meets your tongue, I swallow hard, nearly groaning when your mouth puckers and tightens over my finger, beginning to gently suck, eyes fluttering shut. When I push more, a high whine comes from you, your hand moving to gently grip my wrist as I continue to fuck into your mouth. 

Maybe without even realizing, you start to move your hips forward and back, humping the cushion you sit upon, trying to get any friction possible on your pussy. The sight does nothing to quell my arousal, which is becoming hard to ignore the more you make those depraved, desperate noises.

I slip my thumb from your mouth, and you barely get to cry out in protest before my mouth is on yours, fingers gripping your cheeks and coaxing you to open up. You do with a loud, muffled moan, which morphs into a surprised gasp when my tongue slips in. Your clear inexperience leaves you clumsily reacting to the contact, your own tongue moving and twitching in abrupt directions. I slow down the pace of the kiss, getting to my knees in front of you and curling my hand against the fluttering hairs of your neck, my tongue slowly massaging yours. Within a few moments, I can hear your heartbeat steadying, and you begin to grow confident with the motions of the kiss, your own movements becoming bolder as you prod your tongue further against mine, curling and licking. My other arm curves around your waist, pushing you closer to me. Your legs spread to let me rest in the gap between them, and I grip your dress tightly when I feel the mounds of your breasts against me. 

I part from you, my lips diving to your neck, latching onto your pulse point and sucking hard. Your hands fly to my back, nails digging in harder as I skim my teeth along the sensitive patch of skin. I can begin to feel it, an entirely different, but oh-so familiar urge warming within me, making a home the longer I inhale the scent of the sweat lining on your neck and dripping between your breasts. The urge to take something from you and corrupt you in a way that’s completely different from sinking my cock into you. The urge to bite, and suck, and claim you. It was usually a desire I kept at bay, taking precautionary measures with in order to avoid any sort of hasty decisions during such encounters. But, with you, and your sweet scent and bashful eyes, the urge to taste what ran through your veins was raging within me. 

I move from your neck, hoping to distract myself. I brush my fingers against the knot of your cloak, and with a small nod from you, untie it. It pools against the chair, and my eyes immediately fall to your heaving chest, just the faintest bit of cleavage exposed from your modest dress. I duck down, your hands going to my hair and tightly pulling when I run my tongue along the exposed valley, goosebumps erupting on your chest. 

I feel another tug, and suddenly, my head is being yanked back. I watch in confusion as you let go after such a harsh pull, for your face is hot with desire, eyes wide, lips wet and tongue nearly hanging out. You shift your gaze down, avoiding me as your arms work back, beginning to undo your dress. I lick my lips in anticipation, trying not to lunge and do it myself. 

You peel off the fabric, letting the top part of it crumple and hug your hips, exposing your entire torso to me in the golden light of the fire. I’m nearly speechless at the sight of your breasts, the only thing certain in my mind being that I rightfully do belong on my knees at this moment. 

You’re tugging on your bottom lip again, arms awkwardly pressing against your sides, which only pushes your breasts together even more. Your eyes wander slowly to my face, looking at me through your lashes with both lust and curiosity. “Do you like… them?”

I cannot help but chuckle at the question. “Is it even necessary to ask me that? All I can think of right now is everything I want to do to you.”

Your legs suddenly tighten together again. “I have only done this sort of thing once or twice. I’m afraid I’m not very experienced.”

I stand to my feet and extend my hand to you. “Don’t fret. We’ll have you well-practiced in no time.”

You shakily take it, and let me lead you to the North wing.

Immediately, once we are in my bed chambers, I lay you on the thick, patterned blankets, your hair resting upon the hills of pillows. Your chest rises and falls heavily, and my eyes greedily drink up the sight of your breasts. I ignore my near-to-feral needs and loosen my collar for comfort’s sake as you eagerly watch. This time, when you rub your legs together, a wet squelch can be heard and your face scrunches up in embarrassment when I raise an eyebrow. 

I step forward, hooking my fingers around the fabric bunched at your hips. With a meek nod from you, I pull it down, tugging down on your undergarments as I make my way to your feet. 

Finally, you’re clad in nothing but desire, wetness already apparent on the curls surrounding your pussy. Your thighs are aching for my fingers to bruise them, your hips begging for me to squeeze them, and your entire body ready to be worshipped. And still, such a silly girl you are, whimpering under the heat of my stare.

With a smirk, I’m crawling over your body, lowering myself for one long, wet kiss, your lips chasing mine as I back away. In the cold chill of my room, even with the fire, your body is more sensitive than before, nipples hard and perked up. I ghost the tips of my fingers around them, eyeing your every twitch and squeeze. Your body fidgets and thrusts against the air under mine, clearly aching for something more than the brief, whispering touches I’m giving to your breasts. 

I stick my tongue out and flick it against one. Your moan is high and keening.

“Beg me for more,” I murmur, going back to circling with my fingers.

You choke out a cry before folding your lips together. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“I–I can’t,” you moan. “It’s too embarrassing, too shameful.”

I flatten my tongue, dragging it long and hard against the hard bud, sending you trembling beneath me. “If your body craves it this bad, it can’t be too shameful, hm? Why hold back now when you’re so close to getting what you want?”

Your fingers squeeze around the sheets, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “I… Please, I want your mouth on my breasts. I want you to touch me… roughly. Without hesitation.”

I laugh softly, squeezing your breasts with my hands as I finally close my mouth around one, licking abrasively against your tight nipple. Your body arches into my mouth, wails falling from your lips as I flick the tip of my tongue against the sensitive little nub before closing my lips around it and sucking hard. Your hips meet my clothed thigh and you begin to thrust half-mindedly, clearly trying to find some touch for your poor, neglected clit. I press my leg further into you, giving into your needs and letting you use my body to get off. I switch to your other breast, gliding my teeth against your nipples, then licking around the bump of it to soothe the sting, the sensation of it only sending more wetness coating my slacks. Feeling it hit my skin sends a burst of lust through me, and I start pressing hot, needy kisses down your stomach. You whine at the loss of my thigh, but I hush you quietly. “I’ll be taking care of you soon enough, my love.”

Your hips buck up at the promise, encouraging me to move faster until my face is finally in front of your sopping, swollen cunt. I glance at your face, my mouth twitching at the sight of you focused on the ceiling, clearly too embarrassed to watch my ministrations. But, it’s okay. I know you’ll eventually look.

I slide my arms under your thighs, pressing a kiss to one. “Please, will you open up for me?”

With a small noise, you nod, spreading your legs further until your pussy is on full display. I curse under my breath at the sight of it. I knew you’d be wet, but God, not like this. Your inner thighs are smeared with your juices, and your folds practically sheen with them. I touch two fingers to your lips, a soft gasp above me from the contact. And when I spread them, I’m licking my lips at the sight of your clit, which is jutting from under the hood, begging and desperate to be toyed with. 

I press my face into the wetness, inhaling a deep breath of your scent. A shaky cry erupts from you, and I move my nose in deeper, rubbing it against that spot right below your clit, sucking in that smell as much as I can. The urge, the one I was trying to escape from, was back, but it couldn’t matter less to me. I needed to ravage you.

I stick my tongue out, and while still deep in your cunt, I begin roughly licking you all over, sliding my tongue against your folds without relent before I reach to your clit and begin lapping at it like a person starved. I lick and lick without cease, diving into your hole and beginning to fuck you with my tongue. Your thighs shake against my head, moans and cries tumbling from those fuckable lips of yours. One hand grips the sheets, while the other curls into my hair and keeps me in place as I bob my head against your pussy, pushing my tongue in and out as fast as I can, as fast as my cock would drill into you. Your legs close against my ears, breathily saying, “Please, please, more, I just…”

I stop momentarily, feeling the cool air hit the wetness coating my chin and cheeks. “You just what?”

“I just need to come,” you sob, hips beginning to bounce on the bed from the lack of touch. “Please, please, I just, ah, God…”

Your pleas drift into the air as I get my mouth back on you, softly kissing across your entire pussy, taking my time to savour it before giving you what you need. My lips soak in your wetness, sticky and tangy, as they flatten against every inch of your folds, impatiently seizing the taste of everything you had to offer. I sigh into your cunt, praising whatever ounce of fate led you to my doorstep tonight. I finally press a tender kiss to your bulging clit, my lips perfectly hugging the round shape of it. You shudder above me, back arching and giving me the perfect view of your breasts. 

I tighten the grip of my lips on your clit and start sucking, slowly, with all the intention of exploration. I squeeze my arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to my face, as in and out, my lips grip then let go of your sweet clit. Your hand brushes my hair from my face, and I find you looking down upon me, your eyes watering and mouth forming the prettiest O, as you pant and brokenly gasp whenever I suck harder. It makes me only intensify what I’m doing, my lips beginning to tug your clit into my mouth at longer and harder intervals, putting enough pressure on that sweet spot until you’re shifting under me. And when you do, I stick my tongue out and start stroking it flatly up and down the stiff shape of it, which sends you eagerly pushing your cunt in my face.

I can feel it, hear it. Your breaths begin to come out faster and sharper, the wetness of your hole begins to leak against my tongue more, and your body heats up under my palms. I focus on what brings out the loudest noises in you, closing my eyes in concentration as I continue to apply short, stinging sucks to your clit. When I linger on one, my lips latched onto it for two moments longer, my tongue poking out to flick at it, your thighs clench and flex under my hands, your entire body shaking in one heavy wave as you release a string of cries. I moan at the sight of you, twisting and sensitive under my touch, the sensation sending your feet pressing against my back.

I continue to softly play with your clit, humming against it as your breath evens out. When you tap my head, I release with a soft pop, watching you the entire way through. 

You whimper, biting your lip.

“What is it?” I ask, wiping the back of my hand against my dripping chin.

“You’re looking at me like I’m something to eat.”

I laugh. “You have no idea.”

[undercoveravenger]

The Haunted House

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Male!Reader:

Requested: Yes

Request: “getting dared to go into the shrieking shack on Halloween (wow, a full moon on Halloween? How weird...) and finding a big scary werewolf waiting for you. Except he's really not all that scary, he just won't let you leave because Remus really likes you and his wolf form can't quite say that, just wants to keep you there.”

A/N: This is post number 4 for the 2023 Spooky Month event. Y’alls trick or treat is coming next Tuesday, October 31st. Hope you’re ready.

-----

The Shrieking Shack had well earned its name throughout the years you’d been at Hogwarts, with guttural screams and groans echoing from it each month around the time of the full moon. You’d heard dozens of different stories- ghosts, ghouls, poltergeists like Peeves. Someone from your Transfiguration class even thought it was some long-abandoned merfolk in a tank that’d grown too small.

Whatever it was though, you were going to find out.  The lot of you had had to sneak out of your commonrooms and were nearly caught by patrolling professors or prefects a couple times, but now here you are with your friends crowding around behind you clamoring encouragingly, you stand just past the fence separating the Shrieking Shack from the rest of Hogsmeade. The full moon looms ominously just over the ramshackle eaves of the decrepit building, providing just enough light for you to pick your way through the snowy yard and up to the front door.

A mumbled spell is enough to break away the locks and rotting boards holding the door closed and you’re able to force it open the rest of the way with a forceful shove. You only allow yourself one fleeting glance over your shoulder at your friends before making your way into the house and closing the door behind you, resolved to completing your friends’ dare and staying the night in the haunted house.

The floorboards creak with every step you take, wavering slightly under your shoes as your weight puts pressure on long-damaged planks as you make your way deeper into the house, each room revealing deep gashes carved into the walls and floors. Tattered strips of fabric from what might have been blankets or clothes are strewn about, stained a dark rust color in places from what you can only assume is blood. Some rooms even have shards of what would have once been furniture, a splintered chunk of wood that may have once been the arm of a couch tossed thoughtlessly against one wall of a ruined living room and the stuffing from a gutted chair cushion decorating an old bedroom, but no matter how many torn apart rooms you explore, you aren’t been able to find the source of the screams.

It finds you.

You’d wandered into what you think was once-upon-a-time a study, an ancient oak desk sitting on two broken legs in the middle of the room and its chair upturned nearby. The contents of the desk had proven uninteresting by the time you’d dug through the second desk drawer and you’ve gotten to the point of boredom that you’re considering just leaving altogether when you see it standing in the doorway. You’re not sure how long it had been watching you, but it stands, still as a shadow, with pitch dark eyes locked squarely on you.

You can see the beast’s raised hackles over the top of its head, lowered so it can fix you with a brutal stare, and a growl so low it rumbles through you like thunder fills the room as it takes a looming step closer. As it creeps forward, a brush of moonlight from the cracked window pane behind you catches it, giving you just enough light to make out further details of the creature.

At first glance, you might’ve thought it was just a wolf, but the longer you look the more your situation begins to sink in. The creature before you was nearly double the size of any wolf you’d ever heard of, back easily brushing the doorknob as it stalks into the room. Its legs are long and its paws splay when it walks like they’re not quite right, but the real telling point are its eyes. It doesn’t look away from you as it approaches, not even for a second, weaving through discarded furniture and debris like it was second nature until it stands just on the other side of the desk from you. It doesn’t look like it’s questioning whether you’re a threat like any other wild animal would, and the growl has started to subside now that it’s gotten a good look at you. The look in its eyes, while certainly somewhat wild, is too human to be anything else.

You’re not quite sure what to do at this point, not with a massive werewolf between you and the door, but being in a werewolf’s den during the full moon certainly can’t be a good idea. With that in mind you begin to move, edging slowly around the corner of the desk in order to not spook the wolf, already surprised by its calm demeanor and unwilling to test its good graces. The wolf allows you to pass by it and slip from the room, though you can hear the heavy footfalls of its paws as it follows you. You move back toward the front door, intent on leaving the same way you’d come, but you’re stopped by the massive wolf letting out another thunderous growl and shoving its way between you and the door. It bullies you on with more furious growls and pointed nips to your heels and hands, further into the house and up a narrow back staircase into a near demolished bedroom.

You obey when it gives you a pointed glare, settling down against the wall opposite the door. A satisfied huff escapes the wolf and it pads after you, flopping carelessly down to lay beside you and resting its large head heavily on your lap. The reason behind the werewolf’s behavior was confusing, certainly, but werewolves had been known to be territorial and prone to violence from what you’d heard, so if sitting here for a few hours while you waited for the wolf to shift back meant it’d keep you safe, then that was a small price to pay. 

-----

It’s not the watery morning light that wakes you, but the shift against you. The aching, tortured gasp of pain that escapes as the person curled against you moves. The sound has you on high alert straightening against your back’s own cry of pain from sleeping sitting up all night, eyes blinking open blearily and finding the now-human werewolf trying to shift away from you.

It takes you a moment to recognize him without his signature posse of idiots and the bright red Gryffindor robes, but you are able to place the jagged pink scars across his face and his curly brown hair from some of your shared classes - Remus Lupin. 

“Remus?” His name escapes you before you can stop yourself from speaking and you can see the way the tension takes root in him, joints and muscles coiling under his skin like he was preparing himself to run from some threat.

He seems to have to force himself to settle before he can speak, dark chocolate eyes examining you thoroughly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? When I was-” He cuts himself off with a clear of his throat, eyes dropping back to his lap. He must’ve managed to track down his clothes from before he’d shifted since he was using them to cover himself. “I can’t really remember anything when I’m… like that.”

“No,” you say, and you can see the relief wash over him, tension easing in his shoulders and he no longer looks like he is going to accidentally shred his jumper. “No, you, uh, well you brought me here and then decided it was a proper time for a cuddle apparently.” You try to force a laugh, though the situation is certainly still awkward, “I thought that werewolves were s’posed to be scary, y’know? Think you’re just a were-lapdog instead?” 

A startled laugh slips out of Remus and he looks almost as stunned by it as by your words, “I- I don’t know. This is kind of a new reaction? I’m, uh, I’m usually not so nice when I’m not myself.”

“Huh,” you say, more curious than ever about the wolf’s odd behavior, “I wonder why you were acting like that then? It didn’t really seem to be aggression, even when you growled at me - more like herding behavior like my uncle’s collie.”

Remus flushes at that. This close you can see the dozens of tiny freckles that scattered over his cheeks and down his jaw and neck. “I… have a theory,” he says quietly, like he almost can’t bring himself to say it. His gaze drops back to the bundle of cloth in your hands and you almost wonder if he would’ve tried to sneak out before you had woken up. You wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. “I think it’s some sort of passively shared consciousness? I can’t really connect to it at all, but maybe it can get a sense of my feelings? Like if I strongly disliked someone, it would probably act accordingly, and if I liked someone…” Remus trails off at that, flushing impossibly redder.

An amused little snort escapes you then and you lean forward, supporting yourself with your arms as you push yourself into his field of vision. “Is this you saying you like me, Remus?” You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you at the way you can already see him scrambling for a response, but you lean forward to press a light kiss to his cheek before he can find the words. “Cute,” you say, grinning as you watch the realization hit him. “Sit with me at breakfast?”

He nods slowly as he wraps his mind around your words, eventually letting you help him to his feet and back into his clothes. The two of you eventually make your way back to Hogwarts through the secret passage under the Whomping Willow that he shows you, taking breaks when he needs them and trading banter and kisses all the way.

And while your friends were curious about the shy Gryffindor sitting beside you at breakfast with his hand curled tight with yours, none of them questioned what really happened to you during your night in the haunted house.