#I remember when I came over your house and you had wings and I was like?????
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DPxDC prompt. Home?
Ever since everyone in the Fenton family found out that Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom, there have been constant guests at Maddie and Jack's house.
...More specifically, they were visited literally every day by members of the Justice League.
Superman came in the evenings with freshly baked apple pie, the frightening silhouette of Batman appeared in the corner of the kitchen with a basket of top-quality cookies with chocolate chips in the mornings, Aquaman and Flash showed to do movie marathons on the fenton couch, Wonder Woman came to chat with Jazz and Danny over a cup of tea and Shazam always was with her to hang out with children too.
It seemed sweet, but it was not necessary. Jack and Maddie handled the situation well on their own!
~~~~~
Maddie: I'm sorry, sir, we appreciate your care and help but you and your colleagues really shouldn't come every day. You must have other things to do. Phantom may be a ghost but he was our son. Danny is..well, he was, such a good kid. I don't think it's going to hurt us.
Nightwing: I'm sorry? Mrs, with all due respect, no one was worried about your safety from the very beginning.
Red Hood *stops washing dishes*: Wing's right. Your safety was the last thing we thought about when we decided to keep an eye on Phantom. But the safety of the league's members is a constant priority. Honestly, I don't understand why Danny keeps calling this place home but it's his damn choice, and we'll be here as long as he needs us. So do not create more problems, hunters.
~~~~~
The Justice League understands that their ghost boy is ready to forgive Jack and Maddie a lot because he loves his parents. But the members of the justice League themselves are not ready to do the same. They still remember all the nightmares that kept the boy awake at night, and the wary look on his face that he still shows at every checkup in the medical bay, and tears of happiness when Batman informed him that the anti-ecto laws had finally been repealed.
~~~~~
Not all of them were mother hens like Bruce but they also couldn't help but worry when Danny either excitedly or fearfully said that his parents were waiting for him at home so he couldn't stay with them for long after school. They couldn't let the child think that he would have to confront them alone.
Of course, they did not try to send the boy's parents to prison and did not even insist on depriving them of their parental rights, but only because it would break Danny's heart. But they had read all the plans of their experiments, they had read all their hypotheses about the Phantom and therefore could not leave the boy alone with them.
So now the team had not only a Watchtower duty schedule but also a schedule of who would look after Danny at the Fenton house.
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brazilian-vampyra · 6 months ago
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♱ NEEDING SOME LOVE? 。゚ ♡
(english)
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⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ synopsis: you are a succubus and offers affection after jjk men pass or are in stressful situations.
⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ characters: ryomen sukuna, gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, nanami kento.
⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ warnings: strong language, rough sex, unprotected sex, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, oral (both receiving), fem!dom, male!dom, creampie, nipple play, teasing, love bites, needy behavior.
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⭑ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ⭑
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄 was tired. He was hella tired.
Some time ago, Kento decided to give up his life as an office worker and put into practice everything he had learned at Jujutsu High. Enduring Gojo Satoru shouting in his ear like he did in high school was the worst of the problems, the big "x" of the issue now was dealing with the curses that arrived in the city.
Sukuna's return seemed to have brought a streak of bad luck to everyone else, and it stressed him, God, how it stressed him.
He had fought against a curse called "Mahito". He was all patched up, had blue hair, was tough and very ironic, the kind that brags about their deplorable exploits. His stupid actions meant that Nanami had to spend more time at work, as he was going to finish his shift at 6 p.m., but Mahito was persistent and stupid, forcing him to work overtime.
He left office life so he could stop working like a convict, and now he was forced to work overtime because of this stupid curse?
It's incredibly disrespectful.
He arrived at the apartment tired, just thinking about taking a relaxing shower and sleeping. Maybe this vacation to Malaysia should be brought forward.
He unlocked the main door and when he entered, he turned on the orange lamp next to it, casting dim light across the room. He was already loosening his tie and muttering some swear words when he came across a peculiar figure on the sofa. You were lying on your side, resting your face in your hand, looking at him with a mischievous smile and slightly shaking your tail.
The tail, as well as the horns and wings were part of your real form, but you made them disappear to be more comfortable sometimes.
━━ What are you doing in my house? — the blonde questioned, without paying much attention to you.
━━ You know how it is, no big deal... — you slid onto the couch. ━━ Just checking if my favorite blonde is okay...
━━ I am very well.
You giggled indiscreetly.
━━ You seem stressed to me...
━━ I can ease my stress on my own, I don't need another curse bothering me today.
You got up from the couch, walking over to him with a hand on your chest, pretending to be offended.
━━ Aww, too bad. I'm not a curse, you know this... — you said, making your most fantasy features disappear, looking like a normal human. ━━ Are you going to treat me like that night was nothing?
He grunted, taking off his tie to make himself more comfortable.
━━ It was a dream. A fucking dream.
━━ It wasn't a dream... — you teased. ━━ But I agree with you on the fucking part. Wow, we fucked so much!
You kept remembering about it, with a mischievous smile on your lips.
━━ What did you come for, you devil? Feed? If so, I'm tired, I don't have any energy to give you.
Well, that's the truth. Succubus feeds on a person's vital energy through sex.
━━ Do I look evil, Kento? I'm here to take care of you. You let me feed myself, I think it's fair that I take care of you.
You took a hand to the blonde's defined jaw and slid your fingers over his skin, watching as he shivered.
━━ You'll see... I can wash your hair... — you took one of his hands and brought it to your face, so he could feel your warm cheek. ━━ Kiss your pretty lips and we can explore each other's bodies, so you will sleep very happy afterwards. Don't you think you need some love?
His mischievous smile was a beautiful invitation. And the blonde gave in to the temptation and desire you emanated. You calmly convinced him, and now you were in the bathroom, in the shower, moaning and feeling the warm water slide over your skin. Nanami's strong body hugged yours from behind, while his hands were covered in liquid soap with passion fruit and chamomile essences.
His huge hands slid over your wet skin and went to your breasts, playing with your nipples between his index and middle fingers; giving you an awesome stimulation.
You could feel his hips grinding against your ass and his cock slides through your tight insides, giving you as much pleasure as you were giving him. The blonde's deep moans were close to your ear, making you bite your lower lip. Your hands were on the blue tiled wall, providing you with some support as he delighted in your body.
━━ I told you... you would be happier- ugh, fuck...
━━ I think you're right, I can't resist that fucking pussy... — he kissed your shoulder. ━━ Goddamn, if these curses keep stressing me out I'm going to need you every week...
━━ I'll always be here for you, darling... — you smiled, biting your bottom lip and brought a hand up to his wet blonde hair, while his lips were on your shoulder, tasting your wet skin. ━━ Every time you need... to give you the sweetest dreams ever.
[...]
⭑ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ⭑
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 can be irritated and stressed, like ordinary people. With Sukuna's return, there were other curses with Kenjaku causing problems, such as a stranger called Jogo. They didn't seem like a big problem, nothing he couldn't handle, but it was certainly something that would irritate him and require more strength and patience.
He had to balance this with his teaching duties and training the host of the king of curses, Yuji Itadori.
Sometimes Satoru fantasizes about what his life would be like without the responsibility of being a special grade sorcerer. Maybe he could be like most who don't have to worry about literally being humanity's last hope if the curses ever want to claim dominance again.
He had lost his best friend a few years ago, and it still hurt him. He had to take care of Yuji, Megumi and Nobara, as well as put up with hearing shit from other elitist sorcerers.
All of this made Satoru frustrated.
This caused erotic dreams to happen with a certain frequency, and the figure that satisfied him was you, a succubus. You're wrong if you think that your relationship with the most powerful sorcerer was just sex, nothing like that, you also talked a few times, flirted and even saw each other in real life.
At that point, you could already consider each other very close.
Now he had arrived home and removed the bandage that covered his vibrant blue eyes.
━━ I know you are here, sweetie.
He hadn't turned on any lights yet, but then you emerged from the shadows when he turned on the yellow lights in the living room. The lights were in a weaker tone, precisely so that he could be more relaxed and rest, providing a cozy atmosphere.
You were wearing a button-down shirt he had. A long-sleeved white shirt that had a few buttons lazily closed. Your thighs were bare, your smooth skin perfectly visible and your seductive scent carried far and wide. Your horns were not visible, nor were your wings or tail.
He went feral just by seeing this.
━━ I can see in those pretty eyes how tired you are... — you walked closer to him, hugging his neck affectionately. ━━ Wanna tell me what happened?
A muffled laugh echoed between you, a laugh coming from him before he slid his tongue across his lower lip gently.
━━ It's amazing how you always come up with the right words, and that lovely voice... — he wrapped his arms around your waist. ━━ It doesn't even feel like you're here with the purpose of sucking me dry.
You laughed at the audacity of the perfect white-haired sorcerer's words.
━━ Do you think I'm a mercenary who only cares about your life energy, Satoru? What we have is special... — you looked at him with your best puppy eyes.
He smiled happily upon hearing this.
━━ Don't you think you're needing some love, handsome?
You looked at him with your pink eyes, like a shining gemstone. Glowing with lust.
Gojo's response was his lips immediately being pressed against yours. His warm tongue slid against yours, allowing you to taste the mint gum he had been chewing all day. His hands held and squeezed your waist, making you moan against his lips, and he bit your lower lip lightly.
When you realized, you were on his bed. Your clothes were making a trail that led from the living room to the bedroom, and your bodies were sweaty on the sheets. You were on your side, with your head on the pillow, feeling one of Satoru's hands squeezing your breasts while the other held your thigh, slightly raised so that he could thrust his hips with precision against you.
The blue-eyed man bit your neck a little between kisses, probably leaving your skin marked, but he liked it. He liked to have the feeling that you were his.
━━ This pussy calms me down in a way... — he moaned, never stopping moving his hips against you, making the sound of your bodies echo throughout the room. ━━ It's like it was made for me...
━━ Take it easy, love... — you gripped the sheets tightly, feeling his body against yours as your vision was clouded with pleasure. ━━ Or you'll get addicted...
━━ Fucking hell, I already am... — hearing him go crazy was priceless. ━━ I need that damn pussy sliding on my cock every night...
[...]
⭑ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 ⭑
𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 that even though it was half a curse, the human feelings of this man who was almost two hundred years old were the strongest. He — who had exhausted eyes — was lost among difficult and confused thoughts.
His current mental state lived up to his appearance. He was as worn out as his eyelids and his dark circles. The physical and mental exhaustion of the blood handler was increasingly evident, he no longer knew what to do. He had constant and massive existential crises, which made his head scream.
Being by Kenjaku's side felt right, but something in him told him that wasn't the only option he had. Halloween was coming, the coup in Shibuya was going to happen and Choso only thought about running out of there and never coming back, evaporating like water in a hot pot of rice. But on the other hand, he must avenge the death of his brothers.
Why did life have to be so difficult?
He entered the room, throwing himself on the bed and burying his face in a pillow as he sighed heavily and tried to clear his thoughts. That was when a shiver ran down his spine and he looked at an armchair next to him.
There you were, with your horns and wings and your tail, slowly swaying back and forth like a cat.
━━ Hi, baby.
You smiled and waved calmly at him.
━━ W-Who are you? What are you doing here?
━━ Oh, don't you know who I am? — You were surprised. ━━ Well, let me put on a friendlier appearance to talk to you then.
In the blink of an eye your mystical features disappeared.
━━ Better, right?
You fixed your hair softly.
━━ I'm a succubus, by the look on your face I can assume you've never met one, right?
He nodded shyly.
━━ Well, Choso... I noticed you're so stressed. So tired, so depressed... — you walked over to the bed, running your hands through his silky hair. ━━ That brought me here.
━━ Can I assume you want to kill me...?
You laughed at the man's naivety.
━━ Kill you? No, no. Why would I kill such an adorable guy like you? — he was so adorable and cute. ━━ All I need is a little bit of your life energy, and don't worry, you'll recover in time.
━━ And how do I give it to you?
━━ You'll have to cum for me.
His pale cheeks turned red like ripe strawberries.
━━ W-What!?
━━ Feeding me during sex is the best option, and the best thing is that it doesn't hurt you either... — your hot pink eyes glowed at him, in a tone of eloquent desire. ━━ Don't you think you need some love, baby?
Yes, Choso had to assume that this was the best option for him at the moment. He might have to give you some of his life energy, but at the same time he would be rewarded for it. He was a bit inexperienced, and he didn't hide it — maybe he couldn't even try to hide it.
While you were kissing, he ended up asking to taste your pussy. That was the most promiscuous and shy request a man had ever made to you, two extremes at once. He accepted, and now he was eating you out with a desire that not even an extremely experienced man had ever eaten. His eyes were closed, his hands were squeezing your thighs and his face was buried between your legs.
The desire left him intoxicated, too focused on making you feel good.
Your legs were draped over his shoulders and you held onto his beautiful dark hair, squeezing it every now and then just out of sheer will, as you let him dictate at his own pace. Kamo's tongue slid inside you and his lips worked together to make you moan more and more.
At that point he couldn't take it anymore. The noticeable erection inside his pants was making that piece of clothing tighter and tighter, and if you kept moaning like that while he tasted you, he would probably end up cumming in his boxers. It had been a long time since he had tasted pussy this sweet, and now he felt like he was being bewitched or something.
━━ Hmm... you're so sweet, hm... — he kept eating.
━━ Such a good boy, you're doing well... — looked down, seeing his lips on your soaked sex. ━━ Don't be shy, rub your face on it...
Without even blinking, he held your thighs tighter and rubbed his face against your pussy, making you moan loudly and grip his hair tighter. That was unexpected, as you didn't expect to be dealing with a man who would obey so much.
Choso Kamo is indeed a good boy.
[...]
⭑ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 ⭑
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 was far from being a bed of roses. Unlike what is shown in movies or comics, it is a sad, strange life with a growing sense of death because at any moment there could be a sniper waiting for you. Or another hitman who was hired to kill you as personal revenge for some of your work.
It was no different for Toji, who had to kill people almost every day.
The smell of iron coming from the blood was no longer something he found strange, as it was like smelling the good smell of a disinfectant or a perfume that was pleasant. Most of his clothes were black, just so he wouldn't worry about blood stains, his house didn't have light-colored carpets, precisely so that he wouldn't have to do such intense cleaning if blood leaked through a trash bag.
He lived in an extremely simple apartment, in a suburban neighborhood where the rent was very cheap.
Perhaps if his gambling addiction hadn't consumed him, he might have been in a better situation, as he was paid very well for his services. It was no surprise, after all Toji is a professional at what he does.
Today he was hired to kill an extremely important man, and he was protected by some very experienced and strong sorcerers, that was a lot of work and Toji got hurt a little. Now he had taken a cold shower and put on black sweatpants, lying down on the double bed in that small room, lit by the orange light from the streetlight that invaded through the window.
You teleported to his bed, laying down next to him.
Upon smelling her sweet scent entering his nostrils, Fushiguro wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
━━ I was already thinking about summoning you, my little devil...
His deep voice shook your bones, reverberating on it.
━━ Missing me, my love? — you teased.
━━ Always, honey.
━━ Had a bad day?
━━ Bad as fuck, but now I have you here.
━━ I think you're needing some love, don't you agree? — you turned to him, smiling mischievously and running a hand over the scar he had on his lip.
━━ I need all the love in the world right now.
And so you started kissing. It was an intense kiss, with a lot of desire and lust as your tongues touched and he grunted against your mouth. His kiss always seemed to take the air out of you, leaving you shocked at how good he felt.
Toji Fushiguro is ridiculously good in bed.
Right now, he was reminding you why he's the best you've ever had. This man was fucking you in a deliciously sinful mating press, holding your thighs as his green eyes were locked on yours and he was thrusting his hips against you like there's no tomorrow.
Fucking looking into the eyes was something so intimate and serious that you had never done with anyone; Toji could consider himself a big important milestone in your centuries-old succubus life.
━━ So fuckin' good f'me... — he was going crazy, just like you.
It felt strangely good, feeling him thrusting while you were stuffed. This man had already come and was still hard and needy for more, so much so that some of his hot cum was dripping down your poor little hole.
━━ You're such a whore, aren't you? This pussy is dripping and you still want more...
You smiled mischievously, biting your bottom lip and looking at him.
━━ What can I do? You're irresistible...
[...]
⭑ 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 ⭑
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 was not satisfied with his concubines.
Yes, you did not read it wrong. No, that wasn't a doubt, it was an affirmation.
You, like a good succubus, had been watching him from the shadows for a while, because after all, his life seemed to be extremely interesting. Realized from the beginning that he had four concubines, all of them beautiful, with the most different bodies, different shapes. Always dressed in flashy lingerie and wearing jewelry.
But somehow, he no longer looked at them with that hunger and desire he had at first. You wonder why?
The truth is that there was no answer to this notorious question. He had probably just lost interest in them or sex in general for a while because of the problems that were plaguing him. After all, he is the king.
With this in mind, you decided to pay a visit to the lonely king.
You entered his throne room, wearing beautiful red lingerie, adorned with some rubies, which framed your curves very well. Your soft skin was completely exposed and you made a point of letting your perfume emanate far away, as well as your pheromones.
━━ Sukuna... long time no see.
You teased him, laughing softly. You never had to bow to him, he "forgave" your audacity.
━━ Little brat... can I know why are you bothering me?
━━ I came to offer you help.
━━ Help?
━━ I noticed you don't care about your concubines anymore... from afar I feel your dissatisfaction.
He laughed mischievously, in his classic way.
━━ And what did you come here for? Apply to replace one of them?
━━ Sukuna, speaking like that, it seems like you don't know me — you made a subtle gesture with your hand. ━━ I just came here to propose a deal.
━━ What type of deal?
━━ You give me some of your vital energy and I give you pleasure...
He would have said "yes" right away the way he was, but playing hard to get was part of his personality.
━━ What makes you think I would accept this deal?
You smiled mischievously and began to crawl towards him, slowly climbing the steps that led to his throne at the top. Like a cat, it crawls slowly until it reaches the ball of yarn.
━━ Oh, my king... — you knew how to play dirty. ━━ I was watching you the whole time, I can see how frustrated you are.
You rested your head on his thigh, covered by the white kimono.
━━ You're needing some love, my dear...
And he agreed to this deal the right way. You knew you would have to put up with all the brutality of the king of curses, and you were willing to do that, especially because he didn't go beyond the limits, but he really was remarkable.
The white kimono he was wearing was already open, exposing his beautiful body with the marks that were his striking feature. You were kneeling right in front of him, while he held your hair and moaned, with his eyes closed and tilting his head back. Your mouth slid over his huge cock, feeling how his precum slid over your tongue every time you played with his sensitive, pink tip.
Sukuna's moans were as profane as his dark, morbid nature.
But they were truly a pleasure to listen to, and they were so good that it was making your thin panties weat with your desire, which ran down your slits as you used your mouth on him.
━━ F-Fuck... what a good fucking slut you are... — he pulled your hair.
You gagged on his cock a few times. Which was completely acceptable since he was indeed huge.
You were still going to have a lot of fun in that room, you couldn't even imagine that you could fuck in as many positions as he was going to fuck you on that throne.
[...]
⭑ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ⭑
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 was on the verge of going crazy.
Summer was a difficult season, as curses were everywhere and spread like plagues. In fact, the heat was so intense that it could kill the curses on its own, but he, as a sorcerer, had the obligation to act against them.
All that stress was already becoming unbearable, Suguru was already one step away from freaking out and killing everything and everyone in sight — whether it was a curse or not. He no longer cared about anything, and only thought about how complicated his life was and that maybe he wished he could have been born without this gift, so that he could do what "normal people" do.
Fortunately, or unfortunately for the man with long dark hair, you already had an eye on everything. I analyzed him from afar at various times, and thought about when would be the right time to approach him. You heard that he had been having these outbursts since Jujutsu High, now he was an adult and was still trying to control himself for not causing a giant disgrace.
Now he was on the balcony of his bedroom, it was a moonlit, starry and hot night.
His hair was tied up at the top and loose at the bottom, so he felt a little fresher. He was only wearing gray boxers and had picked up a cigarette, when he was about to light it, he noticed that he had lost the lighter.
━━ I always leave it here on the balcony table...
He muttered to himself.
━━ Looking for this?
He heard an unfamiliar female voice behind him and immediately looked to see what it was about. It was you, you were there looking at him like a predator looks at its prey, with your hot pink eyes.
━━ Don't get closer, or I-...
━━ What? Are you gonna eat me? — you teased, while holding his lighter. ━━ I mean, depending on how it goes, I accept it...
━━ Who are you?
You took the cigarette from his hand, politely asking "excuse me", and brought it to your lips, lighting it with the lighter and inhaling the smoke before bringing it to his lips. Suguru should assume that was a very sensual thing to watch, more so than he would like to admit.
You introduced yourself, saying your name to him and offering a gentle smile.
━━ Are you a curse? — he was smoking his cigarette calmly. ━━ I can feel your cursed energy.
━━ Succubus and incubus are not curses, but we have cursed energy.
━━ Then why are you here? I don't think I have anything that interests you, except my skills.
━━ I think your skills are formidable, but I don't want them, don't worry — you leaned over the balcony and took the cigarette from his lips, smoking it before giving it back. ━━ I want something else, and it can help you.
━━ I'm listening.
━━ I want to have sex with you.
Suguru almost choked on his own smoke at that moment. A creature appeared on his bedroom balcony in the middle of a summer night and suddenly said it wanted to have sex with him? That's weird.
━━ Sorry, I'm usually pretty straight to the point, haha.
━━ Can you explain? — he was recovering from his surprised cough.
━━ I feed on vital energy, and I need yours. Don't worry, I won't take everything, and you will recover pretty quickly because of your cursed energy level.
━━ What do I get from that?
━━ I have been watching you during this time, I know you are stressed and exhausted from having to deal with curses. So... I can make you feel good, really good, trust me...
━━ I won't sell myself for lust, not even if... holy shit.
While he was talking, you took off the thin t-shirt you were wearing and left your breasts exposed, leaving now only your denim mini skirt.
━━ C'mon, Suguru... don't you think you deserve some love? — you told him, in your seductive way.
The answer after that was clearly yes, and he buried the cigarette in the ashtray before kissing your lips eagerly and holding you in his arms, dragging you to the bed. Even though you had just met, it wasn't difficult for you to find the harmony between your bodies because somehow, you had the perfect fit.
You told the sorcerer that he just needed to let you ride him so he could be calm and sleep happily. He didn't think twice before accepting the proposal, and now you were there, in his lap.
Geto was lying down, with his eyes closed and moaning slyly while keeping his hands on your hips. You kept your weight on your knees, resting on the mattress as you moved your hips up and down, feeling your pussy milking his cock. His fingerprints would stay on your hot skin for a long time, you never wanted to forget this.
He looked beautiful with his hair messy like that, begging for more and being sensitive.
━━ W-What kind of black magic is this? W-What are you doing to me? — he moaned frantically. ━━ Oh my fucking God... that's so perfect...
You giggled mischievously as you continued moaning and said in your most promiscuous tone:
━━ I put a spell on you... — you brought a hand to his face, sliding it across his lower lip. ━━ Because you're mine...
[...]
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۰ ࣪📂 ٬٬ 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: maybe it's a random topic but i was fantasizing about it one day and decided to write :) everything was written by me, don't take it as yours or get inspired without giving credit.
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manicmanuscription · 16 days ago
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Solstice Morning
Azriel x Reader
Summary: It's the morning after Solstice and Azriel is perfectly content with you in his arms.
Word Count: 746
Warnings: None just pure fluff.
─── ♡ ───
The sun softly filtered through the half closed curtains, small streams of sunlight illuminating your sleeping form. Azriel had been awake for hours, content to watch you sleep. You just looked so peaceful, your hair strewn across his chest as you curled into him and the occasional snore all made his heart flutter with happiness. Hundreds of years being mated and it was his favorite thing to do. Reminding the intense bond that never seemed to settle that you were safe in his arms.
He trailed his scarred fingers up and down your arm absentmindedly. He could hear your children bickering with their cousins not very quietly a few halls down. A very hungover Cassian (having been the delegated babysitter for the morning so the rest of the Inner Circle could sleep in after the Solstice activities last night.) was trying and failing to keep the peace. Azriel couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother’s muffled pleas for quiet. 
You stirred softly in his arms at the noise, years of training had your body on alert even if a pinned drop. He kissed your forehead murmuring softly that you should go back to sleep. You nuzzled into his chest at that and his stomach flipped at the action. Even after all these years he still had a massive crush on you, everything you did awed him and every breath you took had him in wonderment of your beauty.
Azriel was pretty sure Cassian had fallen asleep on a surface somewhere in the house because soon he heard familiar giggling outside his door. Your daughters whispered to each other mischievously before the door clicked open softly and the twins tip-toed inside the room, flinging themselves on the bed at the last second and yelling boo. 
Azriel chuckled as they crawled closer and sat on the other side of you, doing their best to not step on the giant wing laid out underneath you. “Did we scare you daddy?” Venora whispered. “Yes you did sweetheart.” he whispered back and Cerys bent over your sleeping form. “Is Mama sleeping?” Cerys asked, trying and failing to be quiet, lunging to poke your shoulder and Azriel reached over you and gently grabbed her tiny hand in his before she could disturb you, putting it back in her lap and brushing a piece of her curly hair behind her ear in reassurance.
“Yes she is so we have to be quiet and use your inside voices remember?” “Why can’t she wake up?” Cerys whined. “Because she’s tired. Do you want to go back to sleep?” Although the way your breathing changed Azriel was almost 100% sure the twins had succeeded in waking you up. 
“NO!” They both answered immediately, voices raised and he gently sushed them, reminding them that you were still resting. “Ok than you don’t have to but this room is for sleeping people so unless you want to go back to sleep can you go find Uncle Cassian and ask him to help you get your coats for the snowball fight later?” Ever since more and more little ones had been slowly added to the family Azriel and his brother’s decided to start introducing their children to their years old Solstice morning tradition. 
“But I want you to help us daddy.” Venora said stubbornly and Cerys started asking him a million questions about when they’d go. Finally Cassian came and corraled them out of the room with an apologetic look and as soon as the door snicked shut once again and you opened your eyes, yawning and readjusting so you were somehow snuggled further into him. “Cassian is a horrible babysitter.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead before you settled on his chest once again, throwing a leg over his. “They’re sneaky, I don’t blame him.” You hummed in agreement and he started playing with the ends of your hair. “Sorry they woke you up, I tried.” He murmured and you scoffed dramatically “It’s ok, I’m fine with never sleeping ever again.” He poked your side at your antics and you giggled, his heart beating faster at the sound. A few moments of silence passed, both of you content in each other’s arms until you leaned up and straddled his waist, letting the blankets fall and he watched you carefully, a rare smile gracing his features as you placed your hands on his chest leaning down to kiss him properly. 
“Goodmorning baby.” He rasped and you smiled. “Morning.” 
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dreamescapeswriting · 6 months ago
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Stray Kids Reaction || Your Child Says Something Inappropriate
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⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
CHAN:
Chan had been looking forward to the weekend barbecue for weeks, you had gone all out on planning it together and even made sure all of the kids were entertained so the adults could relax. You wanted it to be perfect for him since it was a rare chance to hang out with his best friends, eat some good food, and catch up on life. 
"You okay?" You whisper to Chan as you place a soft kiss on his cheek, his hands busy as he attempts to set up the grill. Your six-year-old son, Rhys, was running around with the other kids, a bundle of energy and curiosity.
"Perfect, everything is perfect." He breathed out, kissing your cheek quickly. Chan flipped the burgers and turned to Changbin, who was recounting a hilarious story from their trainee days.
"Remember when you snuck all that food back to the dorms in your pants?!" Changbin laughed and you started to giggle, watching as Rhys came pouncing over to you.
"Hey, Dad!" Rhy's voice rang out, cutting through the noise. Chan turned to look at his son and couldn't help but smile at him.
"Yeah, buddy?" Chan called back, expecting another excited observation about the bugs he’d found or the cool fort he and the other kids had built, or even about the rocks he now had a growing collection over in his bedroom. Rhy's eyes were wide, and he wore a proud grin. 
"I told my friends what you said about Uncle Hyunjin's car!" he announced. You and Chan stared at each other, your eyes widened as you felt your stomach drop, you already knew that Chan was flipping through his mind to figure out what he'd said. 
"You said it's a piece of shit and should have been scrapped years ago!" The whole garden went silent as Hyunjin started to laugh a little, ruffling Rhys' hair with his hand and smirking over at Chan. 
"I've said worse about the heap of junk, don't worry about it." By now Chan was burning a bright red colour and it wasn't because of the barbecue below him.
"Me and you are going to talk about bad words," You told Rhys sternly, taking him into the house.
MINHO:
Minho and the boys were gathered in the living room, the aroma of pizza and wings mingling with the sound of laughter and the latest action movie playing on the TV. It was their monthly guys' night, a tradition they had maintained since Minho had moved in with you, it was the same night you would spend with your own friends. Cassian - your youngest son of seven years wandered into the room, his curiosity piqued by the laughter and commotion. The boys each greeted him and Chan reached out to ruffle the young ones' hair,
"Hey, buddy, you want a slice of pizza?" Jisung offered, pushing the box close to him but Cassian shook his head, his eyes twinkling as he glanced over at Minho. Minho smirked back at him and nodded his head,
"Actually, guys," Cassian began, glancing at his dad for a moment before turning back to the seven men who were now watching him, expecting to hear a story about his day,
"my dad says none of you has any idea how to pick a good movie." The room fell silent for a split second and then erupted in laughter. Changbin feigned a hurt expression, clutching his chest and grunting loudly as he laid back in the chair. 
"Oh, really? Your dad thinks he knows better, huh?" Minho leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smirk as Cassian got onto the seat beside his dad and ate a slice of pizza with a giant grin on his face. 
"Hey, don't blame me. The kid has a mind of his own." He smirks, high-fiving Cassian, Felix grinned, pointing at Minh. 
"Yeah, right. We all know where he gets that from." The room burst into laughter as they started to debate what movie was better, none of them ever settling on something they could all agree on.
CHANGBIN:
"Who's idea was this?" You groaned feeling the sun practically melting your skin as you lay in the shade. For some reason the boys had thought it would be a good idea to head to the beach, bringing their kids and your own to have a barbeque,
"I believe it was Changbins," Minho smirked as he turned to your husband at the grill. You were about to say something when Lily - your five-year-old - started yelling for you both to look over at her
“Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made!” she exclaimed, pointing down at a small sandcastle, with a flag on it. Your heart beamed as you watched how proud she was
“That’s awesome, sweetheart! You’re really good at this.” Changbin chuckled, Lily practically beamed at the praise and you turned to look back at the others.
"NOOOOO!" The cry practically screamed out of your daughter as you turned around to see the sandcastle now crumpled into the sand,
"Piece of fucking-" She yells and you drop your bottle of water, too stunned to even talk. Changbin's eyes widened, and he shot up, cutting her off mid-sentence. 
“Lily! Where did you hear that word?” He panicked, kneeling down in front of his daughter as you nervously looked at the others. But Lily looked confused and a little scared by her dad’s reaction. 
“From you, Daddy. You said it when you were talking to Uncle Hyunjin last time.” Changbin started groaning as he shook his head for being so careless when it came to throwing words like that around,
“Oh, uh, did I?” he stammered looking at you as you practically glared at him, silently letting him know he was in trouble later. 
“Well, that’s not a nice word, Lily. We shouldn’t say that, okay?” Lily nodded and Changbin let her go,
“Okay, Daddy. I’m sorry.” She whispers, kissing his cheek softly as he smiles, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her,
“It’s alright, sweetheart. Just remember, some words aren’t for little kids, okay?” She nods before running back over to the sand and starting to work on another sandcastle.
"I'm in trouble later, right?" Changbin asked as he leaned down to give you a kiss.
"Very much so," You smirk, kissing him again before sending him back to work.
HYUNJIN:
Hyunjin had been looking forward to this for months, ever since it had been announced that he could bring his son in to work he'd been planning what the two of them were going to do all day. Everyone was pretty excited to see Jamie in the work place, he was Hyunjin's youngest son and full of energy all of the time.
“Hey, Jamie,” Changbin called out, wrapping his arms around Jamie and picking him up.
"Wanna see what we've been working on?" He wriggles his eyebrows as the two of them walked into Changbin's studio and sat down at a huge desk. Jamie had always loved watching the boys work, even told you he wanted to be "just like daddy" when he got older and even did the dances...well, attempted to.
Hyunjin walked into the room as he watched Jamie, a huge headset on his head as he listened to the son, even pushing some buttons despite them doing nothing.
"God I love him, he's so curious.” Changbin bellowed out, looking as Jamie pushed the volume up before pulling the headphones off.
“Thanks, Binnie. He’s been looking forward to this all week.” Hyunjin chuckles, but as the room turns calm, Jamie suddenly questions,
“Dad, why does everyone say ‘work is a pain in the ass’?” Hyunjin grunted as he realised he must have heard what he'd said the night before to you,
"This is easy!" Jamie yells making everyone chuckle, Changbin had officially lost it and was laughing into his hands while Hyunjin groaned and walked closer to him to lecture him on bad words.
JISUNG:
"You're basically being forced against your will," Jeongin laughs as he, Jisung and Seungmin all walk into the mall, exchanging a look with each other but their eyes landed on Jisung's daughter. She was clutching his hand tightly and giggled 
"Whatever my princess wants, she shall get." Jisung laughed looking down at Emma who was buzzing with excitement.
“Ready to shop, kiddo?” He asked, smiling down at her as she jumped up and down on the spot, her eyes widened.
“Yeah, Dad!” Emma replied with a yell, the boys groaning as they followed the birthday girl.
They wandered through various stores, chatting and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere as Emma looked through all of the clothes for something she wanted. Jisung was in the middle of a conversation with Seungmin about the latest release they had coming out when they decided to check out a new gadget store. As they walked in, Emma tugged on Jisungs sleeve.
“Daddy, can we look at the toys?”
“Sure, sweetie,” He said, leading her towards the toy section and letting go of her hand. She rushed through the toys looking through all of them when suddenly, Emma’s voice rang out loudly and clearly, cutting through the hum of the store. 
“Daddy, this toy is a piece of crap!” The world seemed to stand still as Jisung felt his stomach twist and his throat dry. Bending down to her level he looked at her nervously,
“Emma, where did you hear that word?” He panicked and Emma stared at him, confused as to why he looked so upset,
"Mummy said it last week," Jisung smirked to himself, knowing he was going to get to lecture you later
"Well, we'll have a very long talk with Mum about that later, but don't say it again,"
FELIX:
"This is a dumb idea," You mumbled to Felix as he watched the kids run around together, You were all having a picnic out in the sunshine today with all of the kids. Something you weren't sure was the best idea since the kids weren't getting along all that well. Just last week you'd have to split up a fight between Chan's son and yours,
"Everything is going fine," Felix whispered as he looked at you, he knew how anxious you were about it, but your thoughts were interrupted by your daughter yelling over at you both,
"Daddy, Daddy! Look what I found!" Penelope exclaimed, holding up a shiny rock. You and Felix beamed at her, your hands holding onto the rock as she placed it into your hand,
"That’s great, baby. It’s very pretty." You giggled as Penelope smiled hugely at you, but just as quickly as the smile appeared it disappeared,
"Rhys said that the rocks are shit," The rocks slipped from your hands and onto the blankets at the mention of her brother's name followed by a curse.
"Penelope!" Felix yells softly, bringing her into his arms as he starts to beg her not to say it again. The boys all hide their smirks as you go to find Rhys and give him the same lecture.
SEUNGMIN:
Seungmin and Felix were babysitting tonight, well, Seungmin was looking after his own child and Felix was babysitting, Seungmin was running around like a headless chicken trying to clean as quickly as possible before you came home.
"Hey, Ben," Felix called out, 
"Which superhero is your favourite?" He chuckled, Seungmin thanked him for distracting him long enough while Seungmin cleaned the paint from the floor, scrubbing as hard as he could to lift the stains. Ben looked up with a serious expression, holding up his toy. 
"This one! Captain Marvel!" Felix grinned, pulling the toy and showing it off proudly. 
"Great choice! Captain Marvel is awesome." Seungmin smiled, watching his son interact with his friend, each of the boys was like an uncle to him but Ben was always closer to Felix than anybody else. 
Suddenly, Ben's action figure slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. Without missing a beat, Ben blurted out, 
"Fuck it!" The room went silent. Seugmins eyes widened in shock and he stopped scrubbing the floor and he felt his face flush. Felix winced, hearing the word fall so carefully from the little boy's lips.
"Where on earth did you hear that?" 
"Dad said it yesterday when he dropped his phone," Ben said, clearly not understanding what was wrong with everyone in the room. Seungmin quickly got up and traded place with Felix who began to scrub the floor. 
"Okay, buddy, but that's not a nice word to use. We should try to say 'oh no' or 'oops' instead, okay?" He looked at Ben who was now blushing and looked to be on the verge of tears.
"Okay, papa. I'm sorry." He nods his head, hugging him from the side,
"Now none of us will tell mum, right?" He asked both Ben and Felix - who was smirking from the floor.
"Promise." He winks making Ben laugh,
JEONGIN:
You knew this part was going to be a good idea the second your friends had invited you and you'd begged Jeongin to let the kids stay at home with a babysitter but he'd insisted on letting them come. 
"Emily!" You yelled out for her to come and eat but she ran straight past you and after her cousin while giggling wildly. The fizzy drinks she'd consumed finally getting to her. 
"Innie, go collect your daughter," You whine at him,
"She's your daughter too," He laughs, kissing your cheek before chasing after his daughter.
"Not when she's misbehaving," You grumble as Minho walks up to you, smirking as you glare at him. 
"Aren't you glad you bought her?" He teased you lightly, but as you were about to come back with a comeback Emily's voice rang out, loud and clear, cutting through the pleasant chatter. 
“Mommy says Uncle Minho's girlfriend drinks too much wine!” At that point you wanted the whole world to stop and eat you so you wouldn't have to deal with it. Minho's eyes darted over to you as Jeongin finally grabbed Emily and covered her mouth,
“Kids say the darndest things, don’t they?” You said, forcing a laugh as Minho chuckled deeply. But you were mortified, you hated that your words had been so easily spread.
"She's right," Minho's girlfriend laughs, nudging your arm softly to let you know it was all good between you both but it didn't stop you feeling shit.
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venus-haze · 1 month ago
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God's Got a Sick Sense of Humor (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)
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Summary: Your decision to dress up as a slutty nun for Halloween has unexpected consequences when you make the acquaintance of an equally attractive and disturbed priest. (AO3 link)
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Not entirely spoiler-free, but if you’ve watched up to episode 6, you should be good! Also I couldn't find what the parish name was, so I made one up. The gif doesn't really have anything to do with the fic, I just like it🤭 Please look at the warnings before deciding whether to read this fic.
Word count: 2.8k
Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Non-con involving degradation, rough oral sex (m. receiving); ambiguous ending.
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You knew early on in the night you had made a mistake in costume choice. The vinyl skirt started pinching your waist after less than an hour of wearing it, the nipple pasties were slowly peeling off despite your best effort, and the platform heels weren’t forgiving after several shots of tequila. The vinyl habit stayed in place with the bobby pins you used, but after a while, it felt like it was cooking your head.
Your friends found your plight funnier as the night went on, cracking jokes about how it was God punishing you for wearing the costume in the first place. Lisa had little trouble with her Tinkerbell costume, a green mini-dress and sparkly heels she pulled from her closet and a cheap set of fairy wings from the same Spirit Halloween you got your costume from. Julie’s Bridgerton-inspired costume seemed a bit out of place compared to you and Lisa, but she got a lot of compliments on the details.
For the limited the fun your little desert town had to offer, something was definitely missing from the night out.
“Why did Merritt say she couldn’t make it, again?” Lisa asked, the three of you walking down the street to the next bar you’d inevitably terrorize. All the usual haunts, where the bartenders knew your order and half the patrons were people you’d gone to high school with and definitely didn’t want to see again.
You shrugged. “I texted her earlier, and she said she couldn’t make it, something came up.”
“It sucks she doesn’t hang out anymore,” Julie said. “Did we do something?”
“I mean, her dad’s in a coma, and her mom’s working all the time with those gross murders going on,” Lisa said. “She’s probably the only one keeping things together at home.”
The three of you had known Merritt for years, your friend group becoming tight-knit as time went on. Getting carted to and from soccer games turned into sleepovers and late nights getting fast food. You got to know the Tryons pretty well over the years. Her dad was nice enough, and you always found her mom funny, if not a bit overprotective, but Lois always remembered your birthday.
“I’m gonna stop by sometime this week. It’s been way too long since any of us have seen her,” you resolved.
Lisa and Julie agreed, though you weren’t sure Merritt would appreciate all of you showing up unannounced at her house. You figured you’d be better off going yourself and seeing what the deal was with Merritt.
Stumbling over your platforms, you struggled to keep up with Lisa and Julie until you tripped and nearly wiped out on the sidewalk. You caught yourself on a nearby telephone pole, the lights from the nearby buildings blurring the more you tried to focus.
“Fuck,” you groaned. “I’m gonna call it a night.”
“Are you sure?” Lisa asked.
“Yeah, I’m gonna find a convenience store and then get an Uber home.”
“We can go with you,” Julie said.
You shook your head. “Don’t end your night early because of me.”
“Alright, text us when you get home.”
When the world finally appeared upright again, you looked at the nearby street sign, recognizing where you were, at least. Not far to the nearest shop that you were certain would be open late. You checked your phone for the time and felt especially lame. It wasn’t even midnight yet.
With a sigh, you turned down the street, opening your messages to your most recent text to Merritt. Your FaceTime request went unanswered, so you opted for an audio message instead.
“Hey Mer, it’s me. We missed you tonight!” You paused awkwardly, wishing you could actually talk to her. “Look, there’s a Halloween party tomorrow night, something out in the desert. It’s not too late to get a costume. We could go to the Spirit Halloween in the old Bed, Bath and Beyond—“ A catcall interrupted your rambling. “Look, just call me or something, at least let me know you’re alright? Bye, babe.”
The fluorescent lights in the store were almost headache-inducing, but you powered through for a bottle of Gatorade and a protein bar that you hoped would mitigate the hangover you’d inevitably have in the morning. 
Gatorade in hand, you felt almost dizzy staring at the array of protein bars in front of you, wondering how there could even be so many and if they were really any different. A man walked down the aisle, standing a few feet away from you, though you didn’t pay him much mind until you grabbed a protein bar and noticed he was dressed as a priest.
“Hey, nice costume,” you told him.
“Oh, this isn’t a costume.”
You laughed. “Right.” Your inhibitions lowered, you gave him a once over, your gaze lingering on his handsome face, his muscular arms. “You know it’s a shame we didn’t run into each other earlier tonight, we probably could’ve won a couples contest or something.”
He smiled, though something flickered in his brown eyes that made your guts churn. Except, it likely wasn’t him, as you shoved what you were holding onto the shelf next to you and rushed out of the store.
You wretched, the contents of your stomach emptied onto the blacktop. Tears burned your eyes, your throat scratchy and raw by the time you were done. You felt a hand on your upper back, could barely hear the sound of a man asking if you were okay over the sound of blood pounding in your ears.
Glancing up, you were mortified to see the priest looking at you with concern, though disgust was nowhere in his expression.
He handed you the Gatorade you’d been holding in the store, apparently going ahead and buying it for you. Taking a swig, you swished some around in your mouth before spitting it on the ground. He gave you a handful of crumpled napkins as well, and you tried maintaining what was left of your dignity while getting yourself together in front of him.
You managed a mousy thanks, avoiding eye contact with him.
“Don’t tell me you plan on driving home,” he said.
You shook your head. “I came out here with my friends."
"And they just left you like this? Alone?"
"I told them I'd get an Uber.”
“They'll charge you double tonight," he said. "I can drive you.”
Accepting a ride home from a stranger certainly wasn’t the smartest choice to make, but he actually seemed to give a shit about your well-being. You agreed, if not for the fact that you were curious about him, and the horny part of your brain hadn't shut up since you saw him.
He kept his hand on your back as he walked you over to his car. Almost felt like his fingers were twitching against your skin. 
Getting into his car, you noticed the rosary hanging from the rearview mirror, a saint card clipped to his visor. 
“Oh my god, are you actually a priest?” you asked from the passenger seat as he turned the car on.
“I told you it wasn’t a costume.”
“Shit.”
“Father Charlie Mayhew, from Our Lady of Sorrows, if you don’t believe me.” He smiled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your address?”
After giving him your address along with your name, realizing you hadn’t told him yet, you rolled the window down about halfway, finding the fragrant odor of incense and cologne a bit overwhelming for your queasy stomach. The cool night air gave you instant relief, and you laid back on the headrest, keeping your eyes closed for a few minutes. 
Father Charlie filled the quiet with a true crime podcast. Not a particularly odd choice, except that he was a priest, but Catholicism always lent itself to morbidity—his was more modern, you supposed.
“Have you heard about those murders around town?” you asked over the sound of a young woman giving the background of a triple homicide.
“Yes, our parish’s publication has been reporting on it,” he said. “I'm the editor, but one of our nuns is working closely with the lead detective on the case.”
You opened your eyes to look at him in disbelief. “Lois is working with a nun?”
“You know detective Tryon?”
“She’s my best friend’s mom,” you said. “I went to her house all the time growing up.”
“You must know her pretty well, then.”
“Yeah, Lois is one hell of a detective,” you said. “Still, I can’t imagine…whoever’s behind it must be depraved. What he’s doing—it’s not even human, it’s animal.”
“He?”
“I don’t think anyone but a man could be capable of that kind of barbarism, Father.”
“You might be right about that,” he said solemnly.
You drank more Gatorade, hoping to settle your stomach and ease your discomfort with the direction the conversation had taken. But you were the one who brought up the murders in the first place. All had some kind of religious connotation. No wonder the Catholic paper was eating that shit up. 
Catholicism was always predisposed to an especially grotesque morbidity. Open wounds considered blessings. Bones of the holy displayed with reverence. Even bread and wine transformed into the body and blood of Christ himself. Whoever was behind the recent murders was either observant or well-read.
Father Charlie pulled up to your building about ten minutes later, and you internally sighed in relief when he turned the podcast off. You couldn’t wait to get out of the damn costume and into bed.
“Thanks, Father Charlie,” you said. “I owe you one.”
“Actually, mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked.
You shook your head. “‘Course not. Come on up.”
Acutely aware of the costume you were wearing again, it was far too tempting not to show off on the way up to your apartment, swinging your hips a bit more than was warranted, knowing he was right behind you, the tight skirt giving him a full view of your ass. You privately bemoaned the fact that he was actually a priest. What a fucking waste. A guy who looked like him had no business giving himself to Jesus and denying the rest of the world the pleasure.
You took a selfie by your front door, a tired smile and a thumbs up that you sent to Julie and Lisa.
“Just letting my friends know I got home safe,” you explained, noticing Father Charlie staring at you.
You could barely hide your self-satisfied smile when you unlocked the front door. “The bathroom’s through the kitchen, first door on the right.”
“Thank you.”
Making a beeline for your bedroom, the first thing you did was take your heels off. Your feet were still sore, with a mean blister that made you walk funny when you brought the heels over to your shoe rack. You could hear the toilet flush and the water from the sink run in the bathroom. Chewing on your lip, you were almost tempted to ask Father Charlie if he wanted to stick around. If you could just brush your teeth and reapply some makeup real quick, you'd be good as new.
You never got a chance to.
“So, why this costume?” he asked, startling you.
You gasped, turning around to see him leaning against the door frame. “Oh, um—I thought it was funny.”
“What’s funny about it?”
“Well, nuns aren’t supposed to have sex, and this costume is—”
“Pornographic," he said. "I mean, it’s something you get fucked in.”
“Yeah,” you whispered, shocked at his bluntness.
“Chastity. The sacred vow to God that all women of the cloth take, and you—” he scoffed to himself, stepping into your bedroom so he was only a few feet away from you, “you mock it.”
You knew you should’ve picked the sexy nurse costume instead. “I’m so sorry, Father.”
“You will be. Get on your knees.”
“Ex-excuse me?”
“Don’t be crude. This is about repentance.”
The searing venom in his voice made your muscles contort to his will, and you found yourself on your knees. You should have been fighting back, screaming for him to get out, but in your heart you knew it was useless. Back in the convenience store, you noticed his fit physique, and you could hardly count on your neighbors to give a shit if you were in any kind of trouble.
"Do you even know how to make a sign of the cross?" he asked mockingly.
You shakily did so, bringing your left hand to your forehead, then your chest, then to each shoulder. He scoffed, apparently you messed something up, but he didn't elaborate, instead ordering you to repeat after him. The prayer came jumbled from your mouth, 'through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault' over and over until his voice was ringing in your ears like a broken church bell.
The bulge in his pants was impossible to ignore. You kept your eyes focused on his face, even when you heard the sound of his zipper and clothes shifting. But you couldn't help it, not when he was pumping his cock right in front of your face. Your repetition dipped with a slight whimper when you glanced at the size of him, foolishly hoping it was just proximity making his length appear so intimidating and angry, as if it wanted to hurt you just like he did.
“Simply praying won’t do someone like you any good," he said abruptly. "You need another form of penance, something more tangible."
Shoving his cock in your open mouth, you choked at the intrusion, attempted to shift backward and finally make a run for it, but he caught you by the habit you so stupidly kept in place with bobby pins and hit the back of your throat.
"Why don't you give me ten Hail Marys?" he mocked, his looming silhouette appearing outright demonic through your tear-filled gaze.
You didn't know the damn prayer. Couldn't even try to fake it when all you could manage was muffled pleas for him to slow down, go easy on you, have mercy. Your jaw ached, throat burned at the force he used to make you take as much of his cock as you possibly could.
He didn't show any signs of fatigue, save for the beads of sweat that rolled from his face and onto your own. He grinned at that, at you, the position you were in. The church was full of sickos, and he was certainly no exception.
Making one feeble attempt to fight back, your teeth grazed his cock, and just as you tried to work up the courage to bite down, he jerked his hips, cursing under his breath.
"Take it," his voice a low growl as he came in your mouth, ignoring your choking, spit and snot and cum leaking down your face and onto your vinyl costume and exposed breasts, "take your penance, slut."
Father Charlie hardly gave you a chance to catch your breath when he pulled his spent cock out of your mouth. You practically collapsed on your bedroom floor, each gasp of air painful against the back of your abused throat. Grabbing you by the habit again, he hauled you over to your bed, bending you over the edge of it.
He shoved his fingers between your legs and scoffed at the wetness that coated your thighs, your thong doing little to contain your subconscious reaction to the way he treated you. "Oh, that's just shameful," he drawled. "You're not repentant at all, are you? Leading a man of the cloth astray, causing me to sin…why else would you have put this costume on tonight?"
Straddling you from behind like a dog, his body was heavy on yours. With one hand squeezing your neck, the other pressed something against your throat. You reached for whatever he was holding, freezing in panic when you realized it was the hair scissors you kept in your bathroom. He must have swiped it while he was in there. They weren't even that sharp, but the extra effort he'd have to put in to mortally injure you with them would mean it would be all the more painful for you.
“Depraved, animal, barbaric,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Is that what you think of me?”
You whimpered, feeling his cruel laughter rumble in his chest against your back. “No—no, you can’t be—”
“I was going to do something about that costume anyway, but having that mutual friend in common,” he mused, “I just can’t pass up the opportunity to leave Detective Tryon a personal message. Call it divine will.”
“I’m sorry,” you choked out.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You can tell God yourself how sorry you are,” he whispered.
“No—Father, please don’t—”
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serpentandlily · 1 year ago
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Untouchable VII - Azriel x Reader
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Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: angst angst angst
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part VII
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“Are you alright?”
Feyre’s voice knocked you out of your own head. You swallowed audibly, looking at her before following her gaze down to where you were holding your wine glass, white knuckled. You let out a sigh and set the glass down on the table, putting your hands in your lap.
“I’m fine, sorry,��� you said, to get her attention off of you. “Just thinking about my last trip to Hewn City, that’s all.” 
Feyre’s brows furrowed but she nodded. 
Your eyes flickered back to the other end of the table, where Elain and Azriel sat. Elain was basically halfway out of her chair, leaning into Azriel’s space. A knot formed at the back of your throat. Azriel wasn’t exactly encouraging her, but he also wasn’t trying to put more distance between the two of them. 
Jealousy roared its ugly head inside of you. Especially as you watched her place a hand on his arm, laughing at something he said. A hand that wouldn’t hurt him, unlike yours. 
You looked away, unable to bear the sight of it anymore. You just wanted this stupid dinner to be over already. 
Everyone seemed to have paired off into conversation. Feyre and Rhys, Cassian and Nesta, Helion and Mor, Amren and Varian, Elain and Azriel. You pushed around the food on your plate, feeling alone. 
There was one another person here who looked just as lonely as you. Lucien sat across from you, his eyes glued on his mate who was flirting with your…with your Azriel. 
Elain laughed again, drawing your attention back to her. This time, Azriel had a soft smile on his face as well. 
You couldn’t take it anymore, thankful everyone seemed to be finished eating dessert. You cleared your throat, standing up and drawing everyone’s eyes to you. You kept your focus on Helion though.
“I'm going to turn in for the night. It was lovely seeing you again, Helion,” you said politely. “Goodnight.”
You couldn’t get to the balcony fast enough, summoning your wings to make the short flight back to the River House. You ignored the soft stroke of your brother’s claws against your mental shield, not in the mood to make up excuses for your behavior. 
Once you were in your room, you started ripping the pins from your hair and tossing them on your vanity. Just as you were finishing letting your hair down, the shadows in the corner of your room seemed to expand until a dark figure stepped out of them. 
Azriel approached you, concern written on his face. 
“Y/n? Why did you take off like that? Is everything alright?”
You didn’t turn to face him, instead you looked at him through the mirror. 
“I’m fine. I-I just didn’t feel too good.” 
“Don’t do that, princess,” Azriel said, stalking forward until he was right behind you, still able to look at you in the eyes considering he was a foot taller than you. “I thought we were being honest with each other now.” 
You let out a sigh and turned around, placing a soft hand on his chest. “I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t stand watching you with her. After what I saw that night—” You choked on your own words for a second. “It’s hard to be around you when I can't be with you.” 
Azriel placed his hand over yours. “I cannot apologize enough for that night, princess. But it is only you that I see. It meant nothing to me then and it means nothing to me now. You are the only one who owns my entire heart. I can only pray that a day comes when I can let everyone else see that too.” 
You softened, staring up at his beautiful hazel eyes. They were gold right now in the moonlight shining into your room from the balcony doors, a perfect compliment to your own violet ones. But then his jaw clenched and the moment was stolen away.
You pulled your hand away from him, letting your arm fall limp at your side. 
“This is also why I left,” you breathed out. “It pains me to see another person get to touch you when I can’t. I hate it, Azriel. I hate that I bring you pain.” 
“I’d drag myself across the burning fires of hell for you, princess” Azriel brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, before leaning down to whisper, “I’ve never been a stranger to pain, y/n. Quite the opposite. I’ve learned to like it.” 
The heat in his gaze—his words—made you melt right into his hands. 
“Is that so?” Your voice was a mere whisper as your hand trailed down his chest, lingering on the waistband of his pants before palming his hardened length with a ghost of a touch. 
Azriel groaned, his head falling against your shoulder. “Don’t tease me. Not tonight.” 
“Oh, I won’t,” you purred, stroking against his mental barrier.
When he let you in, you showed him exactly how the two of you were going to spend the rest of the night. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You bit your lip, tossing more of your clothes out of your wardrobe and onto the floor of your bedroom as you dug around, searching for your journal. It wasn’t in the place you normally hid it, but that hadn’t been too concerning. You did often throw it about after writing in it for hours. But not being able to find it at all? That was a first.
“What are you looking for?”
You screeched, falling backwards onto your butt at the sudden voice. A masculine chuckle, accompanied with the scent of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded the room. You peered up to see Azriel hovering over you. You pouted at him and his antics. 
“It’s rude to just appear in a ladies room, you know,” you snipped, causing him to snort. “I’m looking for my journal. I can’t find it anywhere. Have you seen it?” 
Azriel shook his head, offering a hand to help you off the floor. “I didn’t even know you kept a journal. I can help you look.”
“No, it’s alright. I’m sure it’ll turn up.”
Before you could say another word, Azriel surged forward to kiss you. You let out a small gasp before giving yourself over to him. He kissed you with a familiar passion, bringing heat to your core and causing your heart to beat fiercely. 
 The kiss ended far too soon. 
“What was that for?” you panted. 
“Can’t I just kiss you?” 
You gave him a look that had his lips twitching. “Fine. Cassian needs help in Windhaven so I’m going to be gone for a few days. I wanted to see you before I left.” 
You frowned as he played with the straps of your dress, his eyes as pained as yours were at the thought of having to spend time away from each other. 
“Do you really have to go? Can’t Rhys go help him? He’s the High Lord, not you.”
Azriel pressed a kiss to your lips again, smiling. 
“Is someone going to miss me?” 
His eyes softened when the look on your face didn’t change. 
“It’s just for a few days, princess,” Azriel said. “I’ll be back before you know it.” 
“I suppose you don’t have a choice.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Do I at least get more of a goodbye?” 
Azriel let out a small groan as your body pressed against his but to your displeasure, he merely kissed you on the forehead and stepped away. “I wish, princess, but your brother asked me to meet with him before I leave. I’m sorry.” 
“Why is he always getting in the way?” you grumbled, more to yourself than anything. 
Azriel placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.” 
“Okay,” you sighed. “Be safe. I love you.”
“I love you too, Princess,” he murmured, giving you one last kiss before disappearing in a whirlwind of shadows. 
His scent trailed behind him…but then you stiffened, another lingering scent was attached to it. 
You sniffed the air.
Jasmine and Honey. 
Elain’s scent. 
Your heart dropped to your stomach. Why did he smell like Elain? Had he gone and said goodbye to her as well? Had he been with her before coming to see you? You could feel your blood rushing to your head and you forced yourself to calm down.
You sniffed the air again, only smelling his night-chilled mist and cedar this time. You let out a long breath, sitting down at the edge of your bed. Perhaps you had been mistaken. Perhaps your own insecurities were making you paranoid. 
But something awful curled in your stomach.
And a feeling of dread rushed through you.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You busied yourself while Azriel was away. It had only been a day so far, but you already missed him so much. You had buried yourself in reports from the Court of Nightmares and correspondence from Eris. But still, nothing could fully distract you from your thoughts. 
You kept going back to that scent in your room. 
Had you made that up?
But why? Why would you do that to yourself? You hadn’t even been thinking of Elain. You wrestled with the idea that maybe Azriel had seen Elain before you, to tell her he was leaving. They were friends, after all. It could be something harmless.
But that night kept flashing behind your eyes every time you shut them. Elain on the counter, her dress pushed up to her thighs, Azriel between them, as they ravishingly kissed each other. Elain and Azriel at the dinner table, her hand on his bicep as he made her laugh. 
It made you feel sick to your stomach.
The words on the parchment you were reading blurred together and you set it aside with a sigh. 
You were overthinking things. Azriel had told you time and time again that he wanted to be with you. That he’s always wanted to be with you and it was your own brother that had kept him away.
You dropped your head down on your desk, sucking in air. You were just being paranoid. You were letting your insecure feelings get in your head. Azriel wanted you. Azriel wanted only you. He loved you. He always had…
Right?
A giggle in the corridor outside your door caught your attention. You sat up straight, recognizing it to be Elain’s. You froze for a second before quietly getting up and walking to your door, pressing your ear against the cold wood.
Another giggle, a bit further down the hallway this time. 
You slowly pushed the door open a crack, peering into the dark corridor. Another giggle and the sound of someone shushing another. A streak of golden-brown hair slipping around the corner. Azriel’s scent wafted through the space and your stomach turned over.
You stepped into the now quiet hallway, following after the sound of Elain’s giggles and Azriel’s scent. 
He was supposed to be in Windhaven. Why was he here? And why was here with Elain in the middle of the night? Your heart was pounding in your chest. You felt like throwing up. But you pushed yourself to follow despite your better judgment. 
A door around the corner slammed shut and you could hear the sound of rustling clothes. Tears pricked your eyes and you darted forward now, pushing the door open.
Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the empty room. You blinked once. Twice. You couldn’t hear Elain’s giggle anymore, couldn't scent Azriel either. 
Had you imagined all of that? 
You rubbed at your eyes, exhaustion settling into your body. Gods, you were going crazy. The lack of sleep was finally getting to you. That was the only logical explanation you could give yourself. You left the room and returned to your own. 
Just a few more days. 
A few more days and Azriel would be home. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The next two days passed in a blur.
You had a stack of reports in your arms as you made your way towards your brother’s office, ready to deliver them. You had been staying in the Townhouse the past few nights, needing space away from Elain–hoping it would make your delusions go away.
It wasn’t her fault that you were going crazy, wasn’t her fault that your own brother had pushed Azriel away from you all those years. You didn’t want to take it out on her, so you figured you’d just remove yourself from the Riverhouse until Azriel returned. 
You were passing by a closed off room when a familiar voice made you stop in your tracks.
“Fuck, Elain,” Azriel moaned. “You feel so good.”
You shook your head but the sound of two people panting didn’t go away. You froze, just like last time, squeezing your eyes shut, hoping it would go away. You were truly going crazy. You had to be. 
“Gods,” Elain panted. “Please, Azriel, don’t stop.” 
Your eyes shot open as your heart dropped to your stomach once more. That feeling of dread came again as bile rose up in the back of your throat. You put your hand against the door, slowly pushing it open, praying that you would be met with the sight of an empty room just like last time. 
You choked silently on your breath as you peered into the room through the crack in the door. Your hand shot to your mouth as the sight of Azriel and Elain came into view. You blinked once. Twice.
It didn’t go away.
There was Azriel, holding Elain against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist as they kissed. Your heart snapped into a million pieces, your eyes stinging with tears that had started falling. 
What the fuck? 
How…How could he do this?
They pulled away from each other and Azriel rested his forehead against hers. 
“How much longer must you pretend to be interested in Rhys’s sister?” Elain asked, closing her eyes. “I’m tired of hiding, Azriel. I don’t care what Rhys thinks. I want the whole court to know how much we love each other.”
“It’s better this way for now, Elain. If Rhys is suspicious of me messing around with his sister, then he will take the news of us together more lightly. He’ll be relieved it's not her I’m after. Hell, he’ll probably throw us a wedding himself.” 
Elain giggled, pecking his lips. “I just hate watching her pine after you. It’s a little sad, honestly. You’d think she would’ve moved on after all this time.”
“I know,” Azriel agreed. “But it’ll be worth it. I promise you.” 
You couldn’t bear to hear anymore. You silently took a step back, closing the door as softly as you could. You felt your vision go in and out of focus as you forced your legs to keep moving.
Azriel…Azriel had been using you this whole time? He had been wanting your brother to think he had moved on from Elain to you in hopes that your brother would be outraged by the thought, leading him to be relieved that it was still Elain he desired, not you. 
You wanted to throw up.
Wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.
You…Gods, you were such an idiot. You had believed every single thing Azriel had said to you. Had never doubted him until these past few days. 
No. No….you couldn’t…you couldn’t do this. You were going to be sick. 
You were walking still, not even sure where your legs were taking you. You wanted to winnow to Illyria and throw yourself off a cliff, wanted to curl up in a ball in your room and cry, wanted to…Gods, you needed to get away. Needed to get the hell out of here.
“Dove? Are you alright?”
You blinked, your vision coming back into focus to realize you had walked to your brother’s office—your mind likely on autopilot. His violet eyes were staring at you with concern, tracking the tears falling from your eyes.
The reports fell from your hand, scattering to the floor. Rhys rose from his desk, striding over to you quickly. A sob escaped your lips as he grabbed you by the arms, shaking you a bit.
“Dove, what happened? What’s going on? Why are you crying?” 
The words began spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Azriel was seated at the kitchen table in Rhys’s family cabin, across from Cassian who looked as miserable as he did. It had been a long day of dealing with Devlon and the other Illyrians. 
A shadow curled over his ear.
The High Lord approaches. He is angry with you, master. 
Azriel swallowed audibly as a wave of darkness overtook the cabin, Rhys stepped out of it looking like a prince from hell, his violet eyes set on him with a burning rage.
Azriel knew the moment he saw Rhys what this was about. He had finally figured it out. He finally knew what was going on between him and his sister. That was the only reason he could think of. 
“Azriel!” The High Lord growled, causing Cassian to jump to his feet, his brows furrowed with confusion. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Azriel braced himself but didn’t move. He deserved Rhys’s wrath. He knew he did. 
Rhys tackled him, splintering the wooden chair into pieces as the two males landed on the hard ground. Cassian shouted at them to stop but Rhys began to pummel Azriel with his fists.
Azriel didn’t bother fighting back. He just laid on the ground, letting Rhys beat him even as he began to spit up blood. 
He always knew this day would come. Knew that he deserved to be beaten into an inch of life for what he had done. He had taken something as pure and good as y/n and fully corrupted her, marked her, ruined her. 
He had never deserved to lay his hands on her perfect skin, her perfect body. Not when his hands were so flawed. Not when his hands had done such terrible things. 
Suddenly, Rhys was being yanked off of him by Cassian. Rhys growled at his other brother, trying to push him away but Cassian held strong.
“Azriel, get the fuck up,” Cassian grunted. “Why the fuck didn’t you try to fight back?”
Azriel stood, slowly, wiping a hand at the blood that was beginning to dribble down his chin. He spat out more blood, already feeling the bruising that was going to be scattered all over his jaw.
“Because he knows he deserves it,” Rhys snapped. “You fucking piece of shit! I trusted you! I fucking let you into my home, took care of you like a brother, and this is how you repay me?! I swear to the Gods if you don’t get out of my way, Cassian—”
“Stop!” Cassian shouted. “What the fuck is going on? What the fuck happened?”
“Tell him, Azriel, tell him what you’ve done! Tell him how you’ve been messing around with my little sister behind my back!”
Cassian’s eyes widened, his head whipping back and forth behind his brothers. “Rhys, calm down. I don’t know who you heard that from but that can’t be true. Right, Az? I mean, fuck, the bargain we have wouldn’t even—”
“It’s true, Cassian,” Azriel cut him off. “It’s true. Let him go. I deserve this. I fucked up.” 
“Azriel,” Cassian murmured in disbelief, his eyes full of disappointment. Azriel couldn’t bear the sight of it. 
“You’re fucking sick, Azriel,” Rhys growled. “You held her as a baby! You watched her grow up for fucks sake! I thought I could trust you!”
“Oh fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel said, baring his teeth at the other male. “Don’t make this into something it’s not. I love her! I fucking love her, alright! I always have! And you knew it! That’s why you made us make that fucking bargain with you in the first place!”
“Oh you love her?” Rhys snapped, sarcastically. “You love her so much, huh? Is that why she’s in her room crying over you right now? Is that why you fucking used her to get back at me for telling you to stay away from Elain? I’m going to fucking rip your throat out!”
He lurched forward again, but Cassian took the brunt of his weight, holding him off. 
Azriel froze, utterly bewildered.
“Az…what is he talking about? What does he mean you’ve been using y/n?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel spat. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, Rhys. I’m not using y/n and I never even wanted Elain. I was trying to move on from…from loving your sister for gods’ sake.”
Rhys laughed bitterly. “If that’s so, then tell me why my sister came crying to me a few hours ago after catching you and Elain fucking each other?!”
“What!” Cassian swiveled to look at Azriel again. But Azriel looked as shocked as he did. 
“What the fuck are you talking about, Rhys? I’ve been here all day with Cassian. I don’t want Elain and I certainly wouldn’t be using your sister to get with her!”
“You’re a fucking liar, Azriel! She showed me what she saw, you prick! Cass, you better fucking let me go—”
“He’s not lying, Rhys,” Cassian interjected. “He really has been here with me all day. I don’t think he’s left my sight once. You can go into my mind and look, but I swear it. If…if what you’re saying is true, then I’ll fucking help you kick Azriel’s ass but I think there’s some miscommunication here.”
“Y/n is in her room crying…because she thinks I’ve been using her? I don’t… I wouldn’t,” Azriel murmured, mostly to himself. “I need to go see her.”
“If you move a single muscle, I swear I’ll tear your mind apart, Azriel,” Rhys yelled. “Don’t you dare even think about seeing her right now! You have no idea what you’ve caused!”
“Rhys, I swear on my life that I haven’t touched Elain since winter solstice! And I would never use your sister. I love her! She’s all that matters to me! I need to go to her. I don’t know what she saw but it wasn’t me!”
“Rhys, please, listen to him. I know you’re upset, I am too, but come on, you know Azriel. Does this really seem like something he would do?”
“I saw her memory of it, Cass. I saw him fucking Elain! I saw him talking about using her!”
Azriel stepped forward, glaring. “I haven’t fucked Elain and I wouldn’t, ever! I don’t understand…I’ve been here with Cass all day.”
“He really has, Rhys. There’s got to be something else going on here…I don’t know what y/n thinks she saw or heard, but it wasn’t Azriel.”
Rhys cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to get home. I need to get to the bottom of this. But this is not over, Azriel! Even if you didn’t use her or cheat on her! You should’ve never even put your hands on her in the first place!”
“Alright, that’s enough!” Cassian pushed him back. “One thing at a time. I think finding out why y/n saw what she did is more important right now!”
Rhys glared at Cassian but backed off. He shot Azriel another scathing look before disappearing into the darkness, winnowing away.
“I need to go, Cass. I need to see her, need to tell her that whatever she saw wasn’t true. I don’t care if you hate me now too, but I won’t let you stop me from going to her.”
“I don’t hate you, Az, but fuck, what were you thinking? I warned you not to hurt his sister,” Cassian sighed, before holding a hand out. “Take me with you.”
Azriel grabbed Cassian’s hand before shadow walking to the River House. The foyer came into view a second later.
Feyre was there examining Rhys’s bloodied knuckles. She peaked over at them as they appeared, her eyes widening as she caught sight of Azriel’s face.
“I tracked down Elain,” Feyre spoke. “She wasn’t even here this morning. She spent the night at Lucien’s apartment.”
She whispered the last part, glancing at Azriel but he wasn’t even paying attention. His eyes were on the staircase that led to Rhys’s sister’s room. He needed to get to her, needed to make sure she knew whatever she had seen wasn’t real.
“Don’t even think about it,” Rhys snapped, his violet eyes glaring into Azriel. “Mor is with her right now. You stay down here, in my sight, until this is dealt with! Don’t think this has absolved you of anything.”
“Rhys, stop,” Feyre barked. “Now is not the time. Can you remember what your sister showed you? Was there anything weird about the memory?”
Rhys let out a frustrated breath. “No—I don’t know. I was too angry to even think.”
“Well, we need to go talk to her,” Feyre said. “Have her show you the memory again. I don’t know how but someone must’ve planted it or something.”
“Why would someone do that?” Cassian questioned. “Who knew that her and Azriel even had a thing together and would try and get in between it?”
Azriel was stewing in his own thoughts, pacing in front of the fireplace. He couldn’t stand this. Couldn’t stand knowing you were upset thinking he had cheated on you and used you for Elain. 
“Azriel,” Rhys barked. “Did anyone else know about the two of you? You better be fucking honest or I swear—”
“You’re not being helpful by being angry right now, Rhys,” Feyre cut in.
Azriel racked his brain for anyone who might have known they were together. They had been careful but there was one person…
“Cedric,” Azriel answered. “Cedric knew we were together. He knew she turned down his proposal because of me.”
“The Prince?” Cassian asked. 'Wait, you and y/n have been seeing each other since you traveled to the continent?"
"Cassian, not the time," Feyre snarled again.
Azriel could tell Rhys’s mind was racing with his thoughts and he too, paced back and forth. 
“Fuck,” Rhys suddenly cursed loudly, causing Feyre to jump. “The Prince…his family’s magic specializes in illusions. Could he have…but how? Why?”
“Maybe he’s upset she rejected him,” Feyre suggested. “You need to go talk to her. You need to look into that memory again, see if you can poke through it.”
“He can’t talk to her,” Mor said, walking down the stairs and drawing everyone’s attention. “She left for the continent an hour ago. I was packing some of her stuff for her to send over.”
“What? You let her leave?” Rhys shouted. “Where did she go?”
Mor narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t let her do anything. She’s a grown female, Rhys. She went to Vallahan. I guess Prince Cedric said his doors were always open for her and she wanted to get away.”
Rhys cursed again. “No, no! Fuck, Mor! You had one fucking job! Not to let her out of your sight!”
“Well, sorry! I didn’t know we were considering the possibility that someone has been making her see things! She wanted to go and I wasn’t going to stop her.”
“We need to go,” Feyre interjected. “If it is the Prince who caused all of this, then who knows what he’ll do to her now that she’s back over there! He might manipulate her into marrying him.”
“Everyone needs to calm down,” Cassian said. “I have a question. So maybe the Prince knows about her and Azriel, but that doesn’t explain how he knew the background between Azriel and Elain.”
Something clicked in Azriel’s head. “Her journal. Fuck, her journal has been missing. He must’ve stolen it when we were at his castle. You said she left an hour ago, Mor?”
Mor nodded, her mouth in a tight line. 
“Shit. That means she’s probably there already,” Azriel growled. “I’m going. I’m leaving right now and I’m going to get her back.”
“No you’re not,” Rhys ordered. “I’ll go and bring her back.”
“We can all go,” Feyre snapped. “Go get in your fighting gear just in case. We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes so we can go save y/n from that Prince.”
Azriel didn’t need to be told twice.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You brushed your tears away, not wanting anyone to see you had been crying. The castle came into view and you hurried forward, eager to get inside and away from watchful eyes. 
You had written a quick letter to Cedric asking if you could visit and he had readily replied with a yes. You needed to get out of the Night Court, needed to get as far away from Azriel as you could.
Your heart was broken, snapped into a million pieces. Your throat was hoarse from sobbing the past few hours. Your entire world had collapsed and you had never felt such despair.
The castle doors finally came into sight, a group of soldiers standing guard with Cedric. He smiled brightly at you as you walked forward.
“Princess! I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon,” he greeted. “Please, come inside!”
You greeted him with a smile, scurrying inside the castle. You turned to face him. “Thank you for letting me come on such short notice, Cedric. I—”
“Seize her.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, at the coldness in his tone. Before you could react, the soldiers surged forward and grabbed you by the arms. You let out a scream, trying to wiggle from their hold as they snapped a pair of faebane handcuffs around your wrists.
“Cedric! What—what are you doing? Let me go!”
Cedric gave you a menacing smile. “You know, I thought this might take a little longer, getting you to come back here. Who knew your insecurities about the shadowsinger ran so deep? I’ll have to send him a thank you after all of this.”
“What are you talking about? Why…unhand me, now! This is…Cedric, what is this? Let me go!”
The soldiers dragged you forward as Cedric stood in front of the doors, hands behind his back looking quite pleased with himself. “Oh no, there is someone very important I need you to meet.”
He grabbed you by the upper arm and a second later, the familiar feeling of winnowing whisked you away.
You landed on soft ground, right beside a lake. Your eyes widened on the shack that sat in the middle of it. 
“Cedric, please! Let me go!”
You tried to wiggle out of your restraints but the guards held you with unflinching strength. You let out a tiny scream as a figure emerged from the water. A figure made of smoke.
“Hello, Princess,” Koschei purred. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
a/n: ooppp sorry for all the rage/upset I might've caused you with this one. The series is coming to a close though! Two more parts and an epilogue is what I have planned rn! Thank you guys for all your support!
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prettiedup · 7 months ago
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hiii i absolutely adore ur works and the way u characterize your readers !!! if ur okay w it, would u mind writing anyting 4 choso?? no pressure ofc, it’s all up 2 u ( ˘ ³˘) <3
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࣪𓏲ּ. ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃
in which your older brothers best friend takes a liking to you.
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you remember the day choso moved onto the block. him and his brother were the only asian children in a predominantly black neighborhood. most people left him and his family alone, besides from the occasional curious glances and whispers of wonder. they questioned how the family found your neighborhood and what gave them the right to just settle in and replace the previous family that lived there two years ago. the older people were upset that the landlord just forgot about the previous renters just like that.
their house was right beside yours, you sat down on the concrete stairs that connected to your front porch with a caprisun and a babydoll with matted hair in your hands. you watched with curious eyes as their family brought a multitude of things inside their home. with every piece of furniture you imagined where and how they would place. you don’t know how long you watched them, but it was long enough for one of the boys to look up from the heavy looking boxes they were carrying and spare a glance at you.
he had pink hair and freckles placed all over his face. he also seemed to be the same age as you. the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds. your heart thumped in your chest. you were interested, truthfully. you had never seen someone that looked like them. you grew up around melaninated people who resembled you. there was also a good population of mexican kids at your school as well. most of them shared a tan though, there weren’t any that were as pale as the two new kids.
he dropped the box and raised his hand to wave ay you. you gripped your now empty pouch, your eyes are wide. there was a newfound emotion swelling in your chest, it was a feeling you couldn’t vocally describe. it felt like millions of butterflies were flapping their wings inside your stomach, and a superb feeling of happiness exploded through your body, going as far as to reach your toes. with hesitance, you lifted your hand and waved at him as well.
the boy grinned and you’d be lying if you said his grin wasn’t contagious. you felt your lips mimicking the same movements that rested on his face.
your little moment was quickly interrupted when your brother stepped outside. his footsteps echoed on porch like bricks falling down. he sported only a pair of basketball shorts and dirtied nike slides that he generally refused to wear socks with. a red durag wrapped around his head, covering most of his forehead. he scratches the side of his neck while he observes the pink haired boy as well, a scowl rested on your brother’s face as he looked at the little boy. the little boy is freed from your brother’s nonvocal interrogation when his brother calls him to hurry with the boxes.
“mama said come wash up. food’s gonna be done soon.” your brother tells you before going back inside the house.
you look back over at the spot where the boy was but there’s no one there anymore. you frown to yourself as you stand up and walk back inside the house.
it was a random thursday. that day, choso and his brother finally began coming to school. it was their first time riding the bus. even before they came, you and your brother’s bus stop was in front of their house. as you and your brother stood there silently waiting for the bus, your mind drifts back to the boy. and maybe you were thinking about the boy too much because out of the corner of your eye, you seen a flash of pink. you turned your head slightly, and to your surprised he was right there beside you.
you couldn’t help but to flinch and jump back. you shuffle closer to your brother, who only kissed his teeth and rolled his eyes at your antics. in your defense, he snuck up on you! the boy smiled shyly at you, you took notice of the slight red that rested on his cheeks. just as shyly as a few days ago, you wave back to him. he was a little bit shorter than you so he had to look up slightly to look at you. as you looked up, this time you realized his brother is standing beside him. your eyes move away from the pink haired one to the black haired one.
you felt your throat dry as suddenly you became weirdly self conscious of what you were wearing. did you look too childish? you wondered. most girls in sixth grade were wearing this style, and you thought you were pretty caught up in middle school fashion; especially sixth grade fashion. you glanced down at your jordans, light blue jeans, and your favorite pink unicorn shirt. twinges of doubt filled your mind, maybe you did look too childish. you look back up at the black haired boy who was looking around impatiently.
he was very handsome, his face carried a boyish look that his little brother didn’t exactly have. the same feeling from yesterday came back but this one was more intense. so intense that you almost felt sick. you briefly wondered if you should go back inside the house and change into something that screamed big girl, but to your dismay the bus was already coming.
the two older boys were already bolting for the doors the second the door opened. with shakiness you looked at the pink haired boy.
“sit beside me on the bus.” you told him simply. as the two of you climbed onto the bus you counted in your head. you unassigned-assigned seat was five seats away from the bus driver. you’ve been sitting in the same spot since the school year, everyone had already picked their seats so you had slightly saved him from getting yelled at.
as the bus picked up acceleration, the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes until he decided to break the silence.
“hey, uhm what’s your name?” he asked cautiously. and when you gave it to him he repeated it a few times to himself. “my name’s yuji itadori.” he introduced himself.
“hi, yuji.” you smile.
conversation took over the two of you easily. the two of you talked about everything and nothing at all. yuji would occasionally slip jokes throughout the conversation and you’d laugh hard. you had never talked to any boys for this long, all of your friends were girls. usually when a girl and boy became friends in your school they soon became a couple. but as you talked more with yuji, you could tell that wouldn’t be the outcome with the two of you.
when the bus finally approaches your middle school, yuji stopped talking as much and a worried look had graced his features.
you tap itadori on his shoulder, gaining his attention. “i’ll help you around the school today, ‘kay? but pay attention ‘cus i might not be so nice tomorrow.”
as months went by, while your relationship with yuji grew closer, so did choso’s and your brother’s. the two older boys did just about everything together; played basketball, went to the mall, played on the football team together, went to their first high school party together, and much more. all four of you grew closer, it had gotten to the point both your mother and their mother had to buy more food because they now technically had four kids.
months morphed into years and before you knew it, you and yuji were in 10th grade. it was bittersweet because during the summer before the new school year started, you were sitting beside yuji watching your brothers graduate high school together. at their graduation dinner you cried and cried until you couldn’t cry anymore. everyone else thought it was because you were an emotional little sister and while that might’ve been true, you were also crying because you wouldn’t see choso as much.
you had grown an enormous crush for him over the last few years. you had kept your crush a secret but you had a feeling itadori was aware of your crush on his older brother. you couldn’t help it. while yuji was also just as handsome, it was something about choso.
his face had matured, sculpted by time, shedding the soft contours of youth for more defined features. several piercings adorned strategic spots, adding a hint of edge to his appearance. not to mention how taller he had gotten, he had to be 6’ something and every time he stood beside you, you felt like passing out. you would miss seeing him in the halls.
your two years of high school passed just as quickly. and before you knew it, your diploma was in your hands and you and yuji were screaming and hugging each other. proud tears slipped from your face as you watched yuji take pictures with his family. he was no longer short and stubby. no, he was a man now. both him and choso towered over their parents as they conjoined arms to posed. just like choso, his face shedded all of its fat and morphed into something more chiseled. you felt yourself tearing up even more as you realized the two of you were no longer children.
“i’m not a kid anymore.” you mumble against choso’s lips. he hums at your words as his hands rubs up and down on your ass.
it had been a year since you graduated high school and began venturing out into doing new things. your brother was gone to his girlfriend’s house, yuji has began hanging out with this megumi guy, and your parents were gone at a wedding a few cities over. you had gotten the bright idea to invite choso over to watch a movie. you think he got your intentions fairly quickly when you mentioned the house being empty.
“you’re m’best friends lil’ sister, though. he’d kill me if—“ he’s cut off by you pressing another kiss against his swollen lips.
“i’m not gonna tell him anything. ‘nd ‘m sure you’re not gonna say anything, right?” you retort back.
choso bites down on his lip, he’s obviously conflicted. you sigh to yourself as your hands go for his zipper. you look up at him the whole time while you undo his jeans. once his zipper is down, you could see the obvious bulge that rested against his briefs. you could feel your pussy growing wet just from the fact that he had gotten so hard just from kissing you.
you slowly lower yourself onto your knees on the wooden floor. you bring your lips to his tip and begin pressing kisses against it, choso flinches every time you come in contact with another spot. as a final message, you dart your tongue out and lap at the precum that’s beading from his tip.
“you wanna do this?” you ask once you pull away. choso’s looking down at you with his pale skin flushed. there’s a fiery look in his eyes as he stares at you in your eyes.
“remember, you’re not a kid anymore. so take everything ‘mma give you.” he tells you as he guides his dick inside your mouth.
𓍼݀֯८݂𓈒𓏼ིྀ. .𓏼ིྀ ̥১♡
“fuck!” you gasp as choso’s hand strikes your ass cheek. you’re gripping your covers inhumanely tight. you can’t find it in you to close your mouth, you’re usually not as vocal with guys but choso feels like he’s scratching this itch that’s been there for years.
choso huffs out a breath as he slowly pulls his cock out of your creaming pussy, you’re so messy leaving a white base around his cock as well as dripping down your thighs. he slaps his cock against your clit a few times, watching as you shudder with every smack.
he wraps his hand around the back of your neck as he slowly pushes his cock back inside of you.
“this what you wanted, right? hm?” he coos at you. he watches as his cock sinks deeper into your wetness inch by inch.
you can’t stop the loud gasp from leaving your throat as your eyes roll back. who knew someone as skinny as him could be carrying something so long in pants. “chooo.” you whine, it feels like he’s stretching you out all over again.
“i know, baby.” he moans with you. he watches as the fat of your ass bounces against his pelvis. “you feel so good, mama.” he whines.
“only for you, daddy.” you giggle.
“yeah? this pussy mine, baby?” he asks with amusement. he removes his hand from your neck and uses both hands to spread your ass cheeks so that he could watch both holes. seeing your pussy wrapped around his cock like some sort of elastic has him twitching while still inside.
“mhmm. your pussy.” you don’t even know if your own words are truthful or if it’s just the sex that has you talking crazy.
“rub that pussy for daddy, then. cum all over this dick, baby.” he’s picking back up speed, at some point he goes from thrusting to pounding your pussy.
your back is arching even deeper, if possible. everything feels intensified as you rub at your clit. you feel tempted to try to crawl away from his never ending thrusting, but you told him you were a big girl now and you were trying to stand on that.
“shit so wet f’me.” he curses to himself.
he fucks you so well that your breathing gets caught in your chest a few times. you wish he would’ve fucked you earlier, everything about him is perfect. after a few minutes of straight drilling your pussy, he slows down so that it doesn’t hurt too much. you fingers are still slowly rubbing on your clit, some of your sticky arousal leaked from your pussy down to your fingers and palm.
“gonna cum, cho.” you’re gasping as you feel your orgasm approaching. “fuckfuckfuck— ‘m cummin’ cho!” you moan as you begin cumming around his cock, making an even bigger mess. you press your face deeper into the mattress as you begin babbling random words. nothing makes sense right now, all you can think about is his dick sliding in and out of you.
“there we go. goooood girl.” his moans turn into whimpers as his own orgasm approaches. he fucks your faster and harder as his peak builds up. “daddy’s turn now. mhmm, stay still f’me, mama. ‘m ‘bout t’cum too.”
instead of staying still, you begin throwing your ass back against him. choso lets out a breath as he watches your wetness leave little strands every time you pull away from him. “fuck, take it baby.” he groans. instead of rhythmically pulling out, he only shifts his hips a little as his orgasm pours from his cock. strands of white cum escape from his dick, filling your pussy.
the two of you stay still for a few seconds until choso finally pulls out.
“we’re not doin’ this shit nomore, forreal.” you can’t tell if he’s telling you or trying to convince himself.
“we’ll see.” you reply sarcastically.
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moonlight-joy · 10 days ago
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Fires of Fate
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Fandom: House of Dragon
Summary: Your forbidden love for Jacaerys Velaryon came to light when you risked everything to protect Lucerys from Aemond Targaryen. Jace’s heartfelt confession and Rhaenyra’s blessing solidified your bond, leading to a joyful wedding on Dragonstone. Defying duty, your love forged an unbreakable legacy of unity and strength.
Pairing: Reader/Jacaerys Velaryon
Your love for Jacaerys Velaryon had always been a quiet flame, one you tried to extinguish when his betrothal to Baela Targaryen was announced. The match was forged in duty, meant to unify the Targaryen and Velaryon bloodlines. You accepted it because it was expected, just as Jace did, though the way he looked at you—longing, conflicted, and full of love—betrayed his true feelings. Your bond with him was undeniable, even as the weight of duty kept you apart.
Everything changed on a stormy night when Aemond Targaryen pursued Lucerys Velaryon across the skies. The fragile peace between the Greens and the Blacks shattered as word reached Dragonstone that Aemond had cornered Luke near Storm’s End. Without hesitation, you rode for the cliffs overlooking the sea. Though you lacked a dragon, your determination was unyielding. Luke was more than Jace’s brother—he was yours, in every way that mattered.
When you arrived, the sight froze your blood. Vhagar, immense and menacing, loomed over the stormy sea, her rider intent on terrorizing the smaller Arrax and his young rider. Luke’s cries were barely audible over the roaring wind, and panic surged through you as you shouted his name. Your voice cut through the chaos, and for a brief moment, Luke’s panicked gaze found yours. Your presence gave him the clarity to act, and Arrax dove sharply, narrowly evading Vhagar’s massive jaws and disappearing into the clouds.
Aemond’s attention shifted to you. Vhagar descended, her shadow engulfing you as Aemond dismounted, his movements graceful and deliberate. His violet eye gleamed with amusement, but beneath it was something darker.
“Brave,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “But foolish.”
Your heart pounded, but you stood your ground. “You call tormenting a boy bravery? What would your mother say?”
Aemond smirked, stepping closer. “You think yourself a hero? All you’ve done is delay the inevitable.”
Before you could respond, the deafening roar of another dragon cut through the storm. Vermax descended from the clouds, his wings slicing through the air like a blade. Jacaerys, astride his dragon, landed with a thunderous crash, his fury palpable as he dismounted and stepped between you and his uncle.
“Aemond,” Jace said, his voice steady but cold. “If you harm her, I will kill you.”
Aemond’s smirk deepened, but he stepped back, his gaze flickering between you and Jace. “Another time, nephew,” he said before mounting Vhagar and vanishing into the stormy skies.
As the danger passed, Jace turned to you, his expression a mix of relief and anguish. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you as though he feared you might disappear. “You shouldn’t have come,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “It was too dangerous.”
“I couldn’t let him hurt Luke,” you replied, your own voice shaking. “I had to do something.”
Jace pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his brown eyes burning with intensity. “You could have been killed,” he said, his hands gripping your arms. “Do you know what that would have done to me? I can’t lose you.”
His words hung in the air, raw and unguarded. Your heart raced, the unspoken barrier between you crumbling under the weight of your emotions. “You won’t lose me,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes. “Jace, I—”
“I love you,” he interrupted, his voice breaking. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”
Tears fell freely now, and you threw your arms around him. “I love you too,” you said, the words a release after years of restraint. “I always have.”
When you returned to Dragonstone, Rhaenyra greeted you, her eyes filled with concern. Jace recounted the events, his voice steady as he spoke of your courage and how you had risked your life for Luke. When he finished, Rhaenyra turned to you, her expression unreadable.
“You saved my son,” she said softly. “You put yourself in harm’s way to protect him.”
“I would do it again,” you replied, meeting her gaze with sincerity.
Rhaenyra studied you for a moment before speaking. “I’ve seen the way my son looks at you. And I’ve seen the way you look at him. Tell me, Y/N—do you love him?”
Your breath hitched, but you answered without hesitation. “With all my heart.”
Rhaenyra’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Then you shall have my blessing.”
Jace stared at his mother, his disbelief evident. “But Baela—”
“I will speak to her,” Rhaenyra said firmly. “This war has taught me the value of true loyalty and love. Marriages forged without them are brittle things. I will not condemn my son to such a fate.”
The day of your wedding was one of joy and fire. Dragons soared above Dragonstone, their cries echoing in celebration as you and Jace stood before the altar. His hands clasped yours tightly, his brown eyes filled with love and devotion.
“You are my heart,” he whispered as the High Septon bound your hands with a ribbon of red and black. “And I will spend my life proving it to you.”
“And you are mine,” you replied, your voice steady. “Together, we will build a future worthy of the Targaryen name.”
The feast that followed was a celebration unlike any other. Lords and ladies from across the realm toasted to your union, their voices mingling with the songs of bards and the occasional roar of dragons. Jace stayed by your side, his hand never far from yours, his smile unguarded and bright.
As the evening wound down, you found yourselves alone on the battlements of Dragonstone, the sea shimmering under the moonlight. Jace wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “I still can’t believe this is real,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “That you’re mine.”
“I always was,” you replied softly. “Now the world knows it.”
He turned you toward him, his gaze full of wonder. “Together, we’ll build something that lasts. Something our children and their children can be proud of.”
You smiled, leaning into his embrace. “And we’ll do it together.”
The roar of dragons echoed in the distance, their cries a testament to the fire that burned within you both. Your love had defied duty, danger, and doubt, and as you stood there in Jace’s arms, you knew your bond was unbreakable. Together, you would forge a legacy of love, strength, and unity—one that would endure for generations to come.
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cucuxumusu · 1 month ago
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For @graytodd. Thanks a lot for your amazing dickjay art. I tried writing them as you draw them: cute and horny. Hope you like it.
Dick knew his little wing was touch starved. It was in the way he flinched whenever Bruce patted his back, or how he looked surprised whenever Alfred lay a hand on his shoulder. Jason was always glaring afterwards, acting annoyed and caged as if the touches only hurt him more instead of helping, or as if he never saw the goal for them.
The only exception to that rule was Dick.
Dick had noticed that Jason leaned into his touches whenever he patted him or ruffled his hair, he had noticed him sight in content once they were watching a movie and Jason’s legs pressed into his tight by accident. He didn’t seem to have a problem with him, just with the adults in the house touching him. The implications were worrying. It made Dick possessive and protective of the little boy even more than he already was, and so he took it upon himself to help Jason and be there where no one else was.
Dick called them ‘cuddling sessions’. Every afternoon when Jason returned from school Dick would spend time with him doing homework, both of them sitting next to each other, talking and touching all the time. It was him the one who spent time bandaging Jason slowly after training sessions, letting his hands linger for longer, and encouraging the other boy to touch him as well. But as the weeks passed and Jason’s initial reluctance faded, the sessions became a little bolder. Jason would appear in his room at night and ask to sleep together, he would initiate a hug, fall asleep on him, and just try to be as close to him as he could.
It was cute and adorable, and surprisingly it helped Jason as much as it helped Dick. He felt himself more centred, more relaxed as if he too had been touch-starved. That’s why, when Jason was killed, the blow felt even bigger for Dick than it should have been. There was suddenly an absence by his side, a lack of warmth while he slept, and no one hugging him back when he returned from a mission and had to face his wing’s empty room.
That was the hardest time in Dick’s life.
But then Jason came back. He looked and felt different from the little boy he remembered curling next to him in bed. He looked older, bigger, hotter, but so angry at the world that Dick could even feel it in his skin when he faced him. But it was still Jason, his little wing, the little boy he tried to help, and the one that he had hugged more times than he could count. He was back, and suddenly, life felt right once more. As months passed and the boy was accepted back into the family, things seemed to return to how they had always been and how they should have been.
The night Dick caught Jason sneaking into his apartment and getting into his bed as if years hadn’t passed, he said nothing. He just hugged him back and felt his whole world realign by how right this all seemed. He caressed Jason’s back learning the new shape of his body and how it matched so perfectly with his, and the new muscles and scars he carried. He kissed his brows and his forehead now covered with white bangs, and hugged him tighter than he had ever hugged anyone.
And Jason answered to him like he had always done, as if nothing had happened, as if his disappearance from Dicks life hadn’t shattered Dicks world.
He melted against his chest, sighed in pure bliss as Dick’s nails raked over his nape, and arched into Dick's touches with an almost sexual undertone. Jason buried his head in his throat as if he had just been dying to do so for months, he gripped Dick’s body back with the same desperation, and said nothing as Dick caressed him with affection.
The moment felt cathartic for both of them.
But it was also different than the others, more intense as if the separation had only aggravated the feelings between them. Back then Jason had been a child, a boy seeking warmth and love, now however both of them were fully grown adults, and the touch had stopped looking as innocent as they had once been.
Dick gripped the soft hair in Jason’s nape, a gesture that screamed dominance, and Jason’s body seemed to go motionless. The hands he had on Dick's shirt clenched, his breath catching, and his belly tightening as his eyes grew wide. Desire suddenly poured from both of them as they stared at each other, and both of them waited in silence to cross that last barrier, to turn this into something different. Something, Dick realized, that he had been wanting to do since his little wing had come back.
But not tonight, Dick decided, not when his little wing had finally returned home and was again in his arms.
Changing his grip again, he pushed Jason on his back on the bed and climbed on top of him trapping him with his body and not letting him go anywhere. He kissed his brow one last time, a hand still holding his neck reassuringly, another drawing little patterns over his shoulder, and their bodies glued together. He could feel Jason’s desire under him, he knew Jason could feel his, but none of them acted on it, tonight was different, tonight they would just fall asleep together as they had done so many years ago.
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vxnuslogy · 8 months ago
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— the angel who lived. ft sunday
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— warnings: f!reader (referred to as mother) but still uses "you/they" pronouns, angst, mentions and themes of death, brief mentions of blood, very lengthy/word vomit (~8k words), not proofread that much so apologies for any grammatical errors
— author's note: this is more of a character study on sunday and how i think he'll come to learn that escapism isn't really the way go about things but overall, i'm really happy with how this turned out. i hope you guys enjoy :p
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death doesn't have a requirement. regardless of age, gender, or race, it will eventually reach everyone at the right moment.
sunday has always remembered the words - or rather the rumors the dreamchasers spoke of - that when death comes knocking at their door, they'll be clad in purple and a trusty crow perched on their shoulder for a companion. sunday wasn't the type of man to believe such rumors, but now, after waking up from what seemed to be an endless dream, he was forced to believe their words.
“can the angel walk?” you spoke. emphasizing the way you called him angel made sunday furrowed his brows in contempt. you were mocking him. with a huff of his breath, he slowly rose from his  position and walked with you.
“where are we?” he asks. you looked at him from the corner of your eyes before replying. “death's waiting room.” sunday felt his blood run cold. “you'll be staying here with me and the rest until your time is up.” he wanted to question you more. press you for answers on when and where death will take him.
but he never had the chance to. not when children of all ages came rushing towards you, all with bright smiles on their faces. he stood in shock, mind boggled at the thought. they were hugging death. did they not feel any ounce of fear?
one of the many children that surrounds you took notice of his presence. she had long brown hair kept in two low pigtails and bright green eyes that remind him of the garden he and robin used to play in when they were just their age. she waved him over and you urged him to walk up the steps of the giant house that stood in front of him.
“you'll be staying here with us until your time runs out. do be an angel and help me around with the chores, alright?”
and so for an indefinite amount of time — and against his will — helped you around the “orphanage”. 
the younger children were all unruly and liked to cause trouble. every morning he'd wake up to a young child jumping on his bed and would be subsequently dragged into his bathroom to get ready. they'd tug at his hand with an iron grip - it really wasn't, sunday could easily pry his hand away but choose not to hurt the child’s feelings - leading him to the main kitchen where you and one of the oldest girls, elenaor he learned, cooked everyone breakfast.
“woke up on the wrong side of the bed, i presume?” your voice laced with amusement made sunday sigh. putting on the apron elanaor had given him, he reluctantly stood by your side and waited for you to hand him a few ingredients to chop. “it was more of woken up by a gremlin and getting dragged all the way here.” your and elanaor’s snickers of amusement never failed to make heat rise up to his cheeks. he had to fight the urge to hide behind his wings, if he did, you'll tease him relentlessly. this wasn't how he would normally act under any circumstances. he had a reputation to keep, but here, in what you call “death's waiting room”, no one knew him. so he was free to act how he wished.
“you've been here for a while,” turning off the tap, you pat your hands dry and walk towards a pot on the opposite side of where he was. “you'll get used to it.”
“i don't think seeing “death” act like a mother towards soon to be dead children is something i’ll ever get used to.”
the halovian bit his tongue the moment his words stumbled out of his mouth. he could still hear you moving around the kitchen but you had made no effort to respond. sunday was ready to issue an apology but you had beat him to it.
“it's something i’ve never really gotten used to.” the sound of chopping ceased from his station. the sound of water boiling echoed between the two of you - he hadn't realized that elanaor had left to escape the tense atmosphere - he turned to stare at your back, watching you dutifully stir the pot. something that reminded him of his mother. he wonders then, did you also take his mother here to this very orphanage. did she also chop ingredients as you stirred soup?
“i find that quite hard to believe…” his voice is uncharacteristically quiet and unsure. so unlike the voice of the head of the oak family.
you turn to him with a raised brow. “and why is that?” he walks to your station, chopped vegetables in his hand as he dumped them into the pots before putting the lid back on. “you look at home here. is this your home, death?”
you close your eyes and smile. “for a while, yes, yes it is.” 
sunday didn't question you further. the two of you quietly set the plates on the multiple tables in the dining room. he would often take glances at you, soaking in the black off shoulder top you wore under that frilly apron; the long muted purple skirt that swayed with your movement like it was your dance partner for years; and the most eye catching of them all, the black gloves you never took off. all of the sudden, sunday remembered this one particular rumor about you.
“they say before death became death, they carried life in their steps; but their fingertips eventually caused everything they touched to wither away.”
sunday wonders if that particular rumor is actually true.
elanaor came back with wary eyes flickering between him and you. with a small smile from you, the girl started taking the utensils from the cabinet and started laying them on either side of the plates. sunday will never get used to this almost domestic scene unfolding in front of him.
“breakfast is ready!” you cup your hand beside your lips as your voice echoed throughout the house. it wasn't long before little feet dragged against the wooden floor and started to pile in the dining room. “be sure to wash your hands first.” your gentle reminder was met with a chorus of ‘we remember!’. 
sunday stood idly in one of the corners, hands crossed over his chest as he started to remind himself of the next chores he'd be doing. sighing to himself, he pushed through his messy hair as his wings fluttered. without another word, he left the dining room and made his way to the backyard where there were piles of wet clothes waiting to be hung dry.
“oh! good morning, mr. sunday!” said a young boy with blonde hair and matching blue eye - the other covered with a black eye patch. “good morning, louis.” he replied with a smile before starting to take a few pieces of clothing and helping the boy with his chores.
“breakfast is ready,” sunday reminded. “i’ll take it from here.” louis shook his head and continued his actions. the older man didn't bother to urge him to get breakfast further. if there was one thing he learned by being here, it's that the children had adopted your stubborn and independent nature.
after hanging all the clothes, sunday bid louis to get breakfast - scolding him for trying to skip eating - and quietly made his way back to his room and plopping rather ungraciously on his bed with a sigh. his arm came to cover his eyes as he pondered, “when will death come to me?”
“not now, that's for sure.” 
sunday quickly sat up from his position to see you come inside his room, a tray with plated food in your hands.
“it's rather rude to enter someone's room without knocking first.” he barked. you only rolled your eyes at him and placed the tray on the small table in the middle of his room. “i did, but the angel seemed too lost in his thoughts to notice.” 
“be sure to finish everything. once your finished, bring them downstairs so i can clean them.”
and without another word, you exited his room. sunday sighed for the nth time today and made his way to the table, pulling a nearby chair and said his prayers before digging in.
he didn't want to admit it, but you were a good cook. every dish that you served him tasted like home; as if you had dug around his mind to take all of his nostalgic feelings and poured them all in the soup he was eating now. for “death's waiting room” it was ironically peaceful. sure the children would get into scuffles here and there, but without a fail, you'd come just in the nick of time and quell the burning banters.
but today you seemed distracted. sunday was an observant person by nature; he reads through people's emotion by the frequency they create and interpret them through the halo behind his head. recently, your usual soft yet peculiar frequency was replaced by something erratic; something that couldn't sit still. in the back of his mind, sunday wonders if it's related to the crow that's been following you like a shadow recently.
taking the tray in his hands, he made his way back downstairs to help you wash the dishes. on the way the children greeted him with bright smiles as they haul one another to play in your reading room, eager to pick out the bedtime story he or you would read later tonight despite it not being even noon. sunday didn't fight the small smile that crept up his face as some of the older kids tried to take the tray away from his hands, urging him to rest while they wash his plates.
“it's nothing to worry about.” he would reassure them with a pat on the head. “a few plates won't be the death of me.” 
by the time he was back in the kitchen, his chest began to feel heavy as you and elanaor talked. both your backs facing him but judging from the heavy and somber frequency you created, he could only assume you're talking about something sorrowful.
“angel?” you're voice snapped him out of his stupor. “apologies, i zoned out.” he avoided your eyes as he set the down his dirty plates to the side and pulled his sleeves up to his elbows.
“you alright?” you question him, a brow quirked up in wonder. he looked to elanaor who was already looking at him with worry, “i should be the one asking that, but i’m alright.” you only hummed as you wiped your hands on the spare cloth and took off your apron.
“i have something i need to do.” 
elanaor's frequency spiked making sunday’s heart skip a few beats. 
“ely, angel, can you keep an eye on the children? i’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
“mother, wait!”
sunday felt his eyes widen as elanaor called you “mother”, dropping the plates she held on the sink and instead came to grip at your arm. her head hanging low as her hands curled into fists.
“does he need to go…?” she asks, voice below a whisper.
golden eyes met yours. sunday was trying to decipher how, or rather, why, your frequency suddenly flatlined, like how a heart would when someone passed. you were the first to break eye contact. leaning down to whisper something in elanaor's ear that broke the girl’s heart.
“angel.” your voice felt off too. it made his ears ring uncomfortably. it sounded like an untuned violin trying to play a complicated piece to impress the audience. “keep the children entertained while i’m absent.”
sunday didn't like you; he hated you. but right now, as you left the poor girl trying to harshly rub away the obvious tears spilling from her eyes, not bothering to turn back as you walked away, he decided he hated you even more.
“i understand. we’ll proceed like usual.”
your office was off limits to certain people for various reasons, but sunday and elanaor were exceptions. without turning to look back, you heard elanaor's voice from the other side of the door as you put the telephone down.
“come in.” you called out. the creak of the door always unnerved girl, you said you'd get it fixed but after the angel’s arrival you hadn't found any time to do so. “do you need something?”
“the children are asking for you.” this time it was the angel who spoke. his voice like a river flowing endlessly in a creak, you were distinctly aware that his kind had a natural affinity to having captivating voices. 
“i’ll be down in a—”
you were cut off as a crow started cawing and scratching at your window. from its reflection you see elanaor look down and sunday staring at you with a narrowed gaze. with a sigh, you circled around your desk and opened the window. the crow situated itself on your shoulder, a piece of paper tied around one of its foot.
“the two of you go ahead of me.” you spoke, taking the piece of paper from the bird. “i still need to finish this.”
from the corner of your eyes, you see elanaor leave but sunday didn't budge from his spot.
“something the matter, angel?”
“enough with the mind games, death.” 
he barged in your office, closing the door on his way and standing face to face with you. an angry fog clouding his eyes that reminded you of molten gold and sweet dreams.
“what's going on?”
“nothing is going on.”
“you're a terrible liar.” he snapped. you quirked a brow at him with a tilt of your head that made him even more furious. 
“so the angel can feel angry. that's good to know.” you turn your back on him and open up the piece of paper in your hand despite already having guessed it's content.
gaining back his composure, you heard him take a deep breath before trying to calmly question you further.
“what did you whisper to elanaor this morning?”
“i believe that's none of your business.”
“you—!”
sunday was ready to snap again but reigned himself in just in time for you to walk past him.
“if you're so curious,” you opened your office door and paused to turn back on him. “why don't you join us later tonight?”
“join you for what?” he didn't like where this one was going. the air felt heavy, it's as if the entire world were resting on his shoulders. it didn't helpt that you gave him a bitter closed eyed smiled as you left the room.
“one of our boys will be leaving soon.”
“and so, they all lived happily ever after…”
by the time you and sunday reached the reading room, children of all ages were all huddled into a cozy circle with elenaor in the middle. in her lap was an old storybook you had found in one of your travels.
you placed blankets on each and every children sleeping on their makeshift fortress of scattered pillows and stuffed animals.  brushing some of their hairs away from their eyes, letting your gloved hand linger on their faces for a while longer. all the while, sunday kept his gaze on you as elenaor stood by his side, storybook in her hands with an iron grip.
after tucking in everyone, you joined the two of them. you were the last one to exit the room. turning off the lights and letting your gaze loiter around the many sleeping faces in the now dark room.
“let's go.” you uttered with a sigh. taking the storybook from elanaor's hand and tucking it under your arms. “where are we going?” sunday asked who was a few paces behind you.
“we'll be bidding farewell to one of the older boys here.”
he didn't question you further like you had imagined, but you were grateful nonetheless. on the way you stopped by your office to take a candlestick and lit it up to serve as your guide through the dark house.
after climbing up a few steps, you stopped in front of an old rusting door. turning back to elanaor and sunday, you asked, “are you sure you want to be here?”
sunday was the first to answer. 
“you were the one to invite me.” he crossed his arms over his chest. he kept his eyes closed to hide the anxiety he felt, but the wings behind his ears betrayed him as they came to try and hide away half of his face.
you turn to elanaor who only nodded solemnly.
“death doesn't have a requirement..” you mutter as you open the door and enter the room. the two followed you inside and heard elenaor choking back on her tears. “it will eventually come to everyone, regardless of their age, gender, race.”
“death will find us all.”
in the cold and lonely room stood a bed, a boy with deadly pale skin laid there as he looked at you with a knowing look on his face.
“it's good to see you again, mother.”
sunday was at a loss for words as you sat down on the edge of the bed as you took off the gloves you wore and placed them on the bedside table along with the candlestick. the crow that was perched on your shoulder came to rest on the boy's bedframe instead.
“it's good to see you again too, corvy.” the sickly boy reached out his hand to pet the crow’s head but heaved a cough in the middle of the action.
the sound of his coughing urged elenaor to leave his side and run towards that other side of the bed opposite to yours. she gripped the sheets in a tight fist, sunday feared her palms would begin to bleed if she gripped any tighter.
“everyone's time eventually runs out…” you mutter as a strange red chord appeared in your hands the moment you touched the boy's forehead. “it's only a matter of when and how you're time runs out.”
“did you enjoy your stay here, michael?”
the boy named michael smiled with content. his boney hand holding yours that rested on his cheek.
“i did, mother.” you smiled at his response. the same smile you would greet the children with once they have woken up; the same smile the children would close their eyes to whenever you finished reading them a bedtime story. 
“that's good. i’m reassured that i did my job just fine.”
“you've always done a good job, mother.”
sunday couldn't believe his eyes. he didn't want to believe his eyes as your tears slowly cascaded down your face as you leaned down to press a kiss to the boy's forehead. elanaor jumping over to your side and hugging you tightly as her tears soaked your shirt.
your other hand came to hold the red string that was tied around the boy's sickly figure on the bed. you motioned your hand in a weird way and suddenly a pair of black scissors appeared. sunday felt his blood run cold as sweat dribbled down to his chin. 
“may destruction have mercy on you.” you whisper to him, forehead resting against his. “leading your journey in the afterlife, forever peaceful.”
“may this be the end of your painful dreams.”
and in the blink of an eye, the cord was cut and the boy closed his eyes.
sunday read the way his lips moved and felt his heart break in sympathy.
“may you have peaceful dreams, too, mother.”
you carried destruction — death — in your fingertips. ever since that night, sunday had kept his distance from you. he always kept his distance with you, but now, you would never catch him standing near your vicinity. 
the children found it strange. the two of you, without a fail, would always banter back and forth until the halovian had to leave to do other chores. some would turn to elenaor and ask what had happened between the two of you, but girl would only smiled with her eyes closed, pat them on the head and say “it's alright, they'll come around.”
but sunday thought otherwise.
how could death, shed any tears? it didn't make any sense. you were an emanator of destruction - he deduced from your words that night - death itself, so how come you brought life to the very house he and the soon be deceased children here?
they all considered you a mother. a mother. a parental figure they could go to to share their sorrows and woes. 
you couldn't possibly be the death he's come to know and fear, but at the same time you were. 
he wanted to hate you. hating you would be easier. it is easier. but his mind kept reminding him of the multiple times you would treat these children with the utmost gentleness. because you knew that one wrong touch could end their dreams.
“mr. sunday,” he looked up from his downcast position to look at elenaor. she'd been crying, sunday concluded. her eyes were red around the corners and she would sniffle from time to time. “will you be joining us for lunch?��
“ah…” he awkwardly turned his head away to hide the scratch that one of younger girls had accidentally given him. if she were to notice, elenaor would come bursting into your office to inform of his injury. “i’m feeling rather full as of now. I'm afraid i’ll have to decline.”
“i… see…” she only gave him a closed eyed smile. “well, goodbye then, mr. sunday.”
he waved goodbye to the girl who ran back inside the orphanage and sighed. hand coming to graze the cut on his left cheek and wincing as he did so.
“it'll get infected if you don't get that treated soon.”
sunday visibly froze, much to his dismay, as your figure emurged from his side. speak of the devil and they'll arrive, he thought.
“it's a scratch.” he weakly argued to which you only just hummed.
he kept his eyes on his hand playing with the grass as a shadow was cast over him. sunday flinched back when a gloved hand came to reach for his face, making him back up more to the tree he had been leaning on all morning. his actions startled you making you recoil your hand, all the while your hair obscured your eyes. but sunday swore he saw a flash of hurt in them. he felt guilty.
against his better judgement, his free hand came to hold yours in his. 
“sunday?!” you said in shock trying to pull your hand away.
your hand was warm. he wondered if they ever got sweaty and uncomfortable when the heat reached its peak, wearing black under the scorching sun didn't seem too appealing.
“you said my name.” sunday replied, making you furrow your brows. of all the things he took note of, it was the way you said his name. slowly, he let go of your hand and let it fall back to your side. you held such a strange expression on your face, but who was he to talk. he did something strange too.
with a sigh, you pinch the bridge of your nose. “come on, let's get that scratch of yours a bandaid.” 
sunday walked quietly with you as you navigated to the house’s makeshift infirmary. on the way there, children looked at the two of you with wide eyes and quickly rushed to each other's side to have hushed conversations.
“sit down.” you command and he followed.
the following minutes were spent in silence. you scavenging for a bandaid and some disinfectant, while he sat on the bed watching you move from one place to another.
“look to the right for me, angel.” your voice instructed him. this time, it wasn't your usual soft tone, nor was it the mellow and somber one on that night. it was more monotone this time around but still held some semblance of what he assumed was “fondness”.
your fingers carefully dabbed the cotton on his scratch before placing a bandaid over it. sunday noticed you didn't let your touch linger on his face like how you would when you patched up some of the kids when they got their own injuries.
“do you sing?” sunday asked on a whim, making you pause as you put away your tools. “what brought this on?” you question with a tilt of your head.
“louis and i heard someone humming the other day.” his finger grazed the fresh bandaid on his face. gold eyes never leaving your figure as you turned to look at him. “he told me you often hummed some of the children to sleep.”
“there's your answer then.”
sunday wanted to throw a pillow to your face. with an aggravated sigh, he stood up and followed you out the door.
“would it kill you to try and answer directly?”
“maybe.”
before you could step out of the infirmary, a pecking noise came from one of the windows, stopping sunday and you in your tracks.
you left his side and opened the window and let the crow inside the room. like the first time, it sat on your shoulder as you unraveled the piece of paper it handed you.
“will another child be leaving?” he mumbled. you walk towards him again and the both of you walk out of the infirmary. “everyone in this orphanage will leave.” your eyes met his and sunday pondered on what was going on in your mind.
“including you?”
“yes.” your answer was unexpected. “including me.”
“how so?”
“i’m no exception, angel.” there you were again, calling him by that blasted pet name. he couldn't fight the urge to roll his eyes as he followed you to the library. “i may bring death, but death will eventually come for me one day.”
“will someone replace you once you're gone?” 
you only nod your head in agreement. hands grazing the many spines of the books that make up your library.
“ely would probably replace me.”
sunday pressed his lips to a firm line. in his mind, it made sense. elanoar was undeniably the closest child to you. she even accompanied you and him when michael departed, and he could only imagine how many children she's seen leave this orphanage in that room.
“they aren't really children, you know.”
the gray haired man furrowed his brows in confusion. “what do you mean?”
“you know what dreamscapes are, right?” he nods and follows you to sit down on one of many seats in the library beside the window. “people sleep and enter this fantastical world created by your predecessors. this place is similar. the reason why i call it “death's waiting room”, is because it's actually a waiting room.”
“do you mean…” sunday paused, trying to connect all the pieces you've given him. “these… children… they probably aren't children. they're people who've fallen asleep and are waiting for death.”
“exactly.” you flip through the pages of the book you had taken from one of the shelves. every page was filled with different words in elegant cursive handwriting. “right now, you're in a dream. waiting for your time to run out. waiting for death to come to you.”
“then, if that's the case, when will you cut the cord of my life?”
“even i don't know the answer to that.”
“is my name not written on the paper your companion gave you?”
you shook your head. “then how do you know when someone's time is up?” you take a few minutes to organize your thoughts, trying to think of a way to explain it, but in the end you couldn't.
“i don't know.”
“you don't know?!” sunday snapped. hands crashing on the wooden table as he stood up. his eyes were furious at you, making you sigh. “i’m not a god, angel.” you snap the book shut in hand. the sound echoing in the empty library as sunday sat back down. 
“i may bring death to everyone i touch, but i am no more than a pawn in the grander schemes of things.”
“even i don't know why death comes to take the lives of us humans.”
sunday was speechless as he looked at you. you looked tired — absolutely exhausted — just like how his sister would describe him whenever he refused to leave his office back in penacony.
“i… apologize..” he bowed his head in shame. “i don't normally lose my composure like this.”
“it's fine.” he heard you sigh. “everyone grows on edge when death is waiting outside their door.”
“do you have to cut the cord?” 
what a silly question, you must've thought. but sunday wanted to know even if what he was asking was inevitable.
you only smiled bitterly in response.
“even i fear the consequences of death, angel. i have to.”
sunday felt sick in the stomach when dinner approached. his ears ringed with your response, that you too, will eventually meet your end. it made him sick, and he didn't want to admit it. 
he didn't come down to the dining room as usual. he expected elenaor to knock on his door, carrying a tray of food, something she's been doing after michael’s departure. but this time, when he opened the door, he had to stop you from stumbling inside his room as elenaor kept pushing you inside even with her hands occupied.
“elenaor..?!” you both whisper yell to the girl.
“you two need to talk!” she said with a huff. you winced when she dropped the tray of food on his table. “everyone's been worried about you two, y'know.” you both look away, sunday scratching his cheek while you were blatantly ignoring the girl as she put her hands on her hips.
“mother,” she called out to you but you pretended to not hear. “mother!” she said a little louder, now standing in front of you as she tugged and whined for you to acknowledge her. “you're so mean, mother!”
sunday’s wings hid the growing smile and laughter that was bubbling in his chest at the comical sight. 
your cold facade was cracking with the way your lips were curving upwards; eyes pooling with mirth as the girl continued to scold you for some odd reason.
“and you!” elenaor pointed at sunday with her finger. he saw you snicker under your breath, fist in front of your lips, a futile attempt to hide your amusement. “you're supposed to be the more mature one between the two of you!”
“i am?” he points to himself with a tilt of his head. “yes!” she replied with a huff. elanaor made her way to the door, but not without giving the two of you another half attempt to glare. “by tomorrow, the two of you should be back to normal!” and for good measure, she slammed the door shut on the both of you.
the room was quiet, that is until, your giggles filled the room. your poor attempt in stopping your laughter made sunday's eyes go wide in shock, though he didn't know why. you always laughed in the house. be it from the teasing you always do to him and the other kids or by something else, you were always a giggly person.
but this was different. sunday just knew this was different. the way your eyes crinkled and shaped itself into little crescent moons and how tears of pure joy would escape every now and then. and your smile, aeons your smile. that smile didn't belong to death, it belonged to you.
sunday's laugh rang like church bells, you had to double check if what you were hearing was real. the two of you shared a moment of silence before erupting into fits of giggles again. the sound reminded you both of children running around the orphanage, playing kings and queens, monsters and knights, and the laughter that came after all the playing.
“what a strange girl she is.” sunday said after coughing into his fist. he had to reign himself in when you laughed in reply. “she is. but she's my strange girl.” 
your eyes lingered on the door the younger girl had slammed. they held such fondness, sunday wouldn't have guessed the “death” he's always been afraid of would be so loving.
“well, now that's done.” you wipe away any stray tears left and motion sunday to his food. “eat. louis told me you hadn't eaten lunch. you must be starving.”
sunday sat down on the chair while you sat on the edge of his bed. smoothing out any creases on his blanket as he ate his food. every once in a while, he'd look at you between bites and still see that smile present on your face. 
“you should smile more.” he said before wiping his lips on the towel elanaor had kindly prepared his food with.
“i could say the same to you, angel.” you look back at him. the same soft smile still on your lips as the streams of moonlight in this beautiful dream started to fill in the gaps of the window in the room, bathing you in a glow that made you look divine. “you look more handsome when you smile.”
he coughed into his fist as you laughed. wings coming to try and cover his face and hide his flustered state. 
“i never… took you one for compliments.”
you tilt your head curiously, “do i not look like the type to give compliments.” sunday shook his head. hair and wings following his movement that made you swoon inside, it was nothing short of adorable. seeing the always composed mr. sunday stuff his face with the food you cooked for him.  
this wasn't good. but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.
“you're wrong then.” you say as you let yourself fall onto his bed.
“are you fond of children?”
“well, i wouldn't have gone through all this trouble by creating this dream if i wasn't.”
“just answer me directly, death.”
you laugh again in response. how strange it was, that the name “death” the halovian would always use to describe you no longer sounded hostile.
“yes.” you said softly. “i’m very fond of them.”
“why?” he questions. you hear the sound of plates and utensils move around and it wasn't long before another weight made the bed dip from the other side. “everyone dreams of having their own family, angel. i’m no exception.”
you closed your eyes for a moment before they open again in bewilderment as you looked to your side.
your right hand, still with it's glove on, was being held by sunday's own hands. his thumbs and index finger would tug at your fingers before his palm settled in your own. 
you could hear the way your heart was beating in your ears. “do you not fear death, angel?” you ask as you let the man play with your hand like a child.
“i do.” he answered. you felt the bed dip and shift as he turned to lay on his side. “but recently, i've come to know them very well.”
you close your eyes again. letting the feeling of sunday tracing shapes in your palms lull you into a momentary sleep.
“what is death like, if you've gotten to know them very well.”
“death is a scary thing.” he paused, making sure you were listening. “i tiptoed around it back at home, like how two siblings would've tried to hide from their father when they played hide and seek.” 
“i didn't believe death existed until it took something - someone - very important away from me. it was the first time in a while did i felt the fear and fury of it all being poured into my body.”
“do you hate death, angel?” you ask, still not opening your eyes.
“i do.” he answered with no hesitation, making you scoff. “death is impatient, not waiting for me to finish my explanation before jumping to conclusions.”
alright, you admit, he got you there.
“i hate death. i don't ever want to experience it anytime soon. it takes and it takes, and i don't want it to take anything important away from me ever again.” you felt sunday weave your fingers together as he spoke. “but i learned that death, also gives.”
“death is a lot kinder than i imagined. they didn't snarl or bite - but they did tease and scoff - at me. they're fond of children, much to my surprise. treating them with the utmost care and gentleness, even i believe i don't possess.”
“death, though not intentionally, showed me that even beautiful dreams can cause suffering. something i've refused to believe — to acknowledge — for the longest time.”
“are you scared?” you ask. opening your eyes to turn to lay on your side as well. not letting sunday's hand slip away from yours.
“no, not anymore.” somehow, you could almost see the smile his handsome face wore. “because death is gentle when someone's time is up.”
“what if they aren't gentle with you?”
“well,” he only chuckles. “death is gentle with me right now, are they not?”
ah, he got you again.
sunday, from a very young age, was taught that dreams were one of the many ways that the gods used to convey their intentions to mankind.
all his life, sunday had seen the ugliest side of humanity and yet he wished nothing but the best for them. he dreamed of creating a paradise where humanity no longer had to fight for survival; the strong wouldn't grow stronger nor will the weak grow weaker. everyone would be equal. 
sunday's existence was to be everyone's savior; their saving grace in this perpetually cruel world. he would willingly spend the rest of eternity in solitude if it meant that others could live in a paradise, free from all misery and suffering.
he's never seen anything wrong with wanting to escape; taking the easy way out. who would want to be in pain after all.
you would.
why does life slumber? he always asks — he wanted to ask you but never got that chance to. 
“we slumber because we don't want to wake up. we do not wish to see a painful and unfair tomorrow. we want to hold on to this beautiful dream where everything is alright. because we fear the future, we don't wish to wake up. the future is not kind, not to everyone. we will lose everything.”
“but we still have to.”
jolting awake, sunday pressed his hand over his chest where his heart was beating erratically, its sound ringing uncomfortably in his ears. no longer was he in the orphanage he'd grown accustomed to. now, he was all alone, in a damp, cold, and dark room.
“can the angel walk?”
twisting his head to the side, there you sat. the same black off shoulder top, muted purple skirt, and your companion perched on your shoulder as you close the book in your grasp.
you smiled at him. “so the angel can wake up, good to know.” your words ring in his ears. it feels nostalgic, a sudden sense of deja vu, but it left him with a feeling of doom as you walked to stretch a hand to him.
sunday took it with a moment of hesitation. he let himself be pulled up with your help and let you lead him somewhere else.
“where are we?” he asks.
“in reality.”
his eyes narrowed in a confused glare. 
“what happened to the orphanage?” he didn't like the quietness of everything. he couldn't read your emotions, frequency practically nonexistent. “gone. everyone left.”
the ground shook along with his heart. he couldn't properly process the way you took hold of his hand and began to run straight into the darkness.
he was scared. he was so uncontrollably scared with what you've done because why…. why was he still alive?
“pick up the pace angel.” you turn your head to him. a teasing smile on your lips trying to hide the panic and terror in your eyes. “don't tell me the angel forgot how to run?”
“what's going on…”
“nothing's going on.” there you were again, avoiding the question; leaving him guessing in the dark.
against his instincts — the nagging voice in his mind to follow you and run — he pried his hand away from yours and skid to a stop. 
“angel?!” you shout in confusion. your panic doubled as the ground shook more and more.
“you can't just keep me in the dark, death.” his hands balled up into fists at his sides. the look of foreboding did not suit you, he much preferred your easy going natured smile. “i’m not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on.”
what a stubborn child, your mind replayed. eyes fogging up with an unreadable emotion.
“alright,” you say calmly. “how about a game then?”
sunday looked confused but stayed patient with you. something you're not used to.
“let's play a round of tag. you're it. if you tag me, i’ll tell you everything.”
“this isn't a game, death.”
sunday had come to the forlorn conclusion that he didn't even know your name.
“all is fair in love and war.” your voice matched your somber eyes. 
what did you mean in love and war? what love? what war?
“come on now, angel, can't you just play one game with me?”
his adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed his fears down along with his hesitation.
“okay.” he said. “let's play, but just one game.”
you smiled in thanks. “on my count, we run.”
.
“three.”
.
“two.”
.
“one.”
.
“RUN!”
and so the both of you did. you ran with such vigor, sunday felt that he'd lose here. lose the chance of finally knowing the truth.
“don't give up on me now, angel. we're almost there!”
your laughter echoed in the dim lit corridors of this nightmare that seemed to never end. but the way a crown of light bathed you, sunday felt his feet push further and further until they burned from the pain.
you kept smiling back at him. the childish smile he'd always see on the faces of the many children back in the when they also played tag. you would always be “it” and tagged one child to another, leaving you the victor by the end of it all.
but this time, sunday would rise victorious.
“brother!”
sunday skid to a stop as a body slammed on his own, nearly making him stumble down. a warm embrace enveloped him, the same embrace that woke him from his dreams of order back in penacony.
“it's mr. sunday!”
“are you alright?”
everything was too fast. one moment he was playing tag with death and now he's reunited with his sister and the astral express crew.
“robin…” he quietly murmured. arms snaking to hug his sister tightly as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “i’m here, brother.”
sunday let a smile break out of his face as he let robin check up on him. laughing at the way she weakly punched him on the chest.
“it's a good thing you're unharmed, mr. sunday.” welt said, fixing his glasses. “it took us quite a while to find you, but i’m glad our efforts weren't in vain.”
sunday furrowed his brows. “what do you mean?”
“after your disappearance in penacony, me and the astral express crew had joined forces to track you down.” robin explained.
“i… see…” sunday pondered if the reason they weren't able to find him was because he was inside your dream.
wait.
“death?!” he shouted into the space but no one answered. he was sure that everyone was looking at him weirdly as he lightly pushed robin to the side to try and look for you.
“death?!” the pink haired girl exclaimed. “what's going on mr. sunday?!”
before sunday could respond, another tremor broke out.
“brother!”
something flashed in sunday’s mind for a quick moment. his mind replayed the first time he arrived at “death's waiting room”, how he was forced to do chores and help around, tell the children bedtime stories and tuck them in for bed. how the first night he witnessed death made his stomach swirl with uncontrollably fear and how “death” itself cried for the departed.
he remembered how elanaor barged into his temporary room and pushed you in. how he ate his dinner in silence as you smooth out the creases on his bed. how, against his own judgement, came to lay on the bed and hold your hand that he couldn't believe brought upon ruin to someone's dream.
“it's time to wake up, sunday.”
sunday felt a body hug him tightly before he was pushed out of the way. in a quick flash, a red cord wrapped around him and death before it snapped.
the loud clamor of a giant gate dropping made his ears ring. sunday felt his breath quicken as he ran to the metal gate and slammed his fist against it in a poor attempt to get it to open.
“death!” another slam of his fist. “death you said you'd explain!” and another. “don't leave me in the dark!”
sunday felt his breath becoming shorter and shorter.
and how his heart dropped when crimson started to slip through the cracks of the metal gate.
“you didn't tag me, so i still win.”
“no…” another slam of his fist, louder than ever. “no! death hang on, we can save you!”
“you can't.”
“you don't know that!”
the trailblazer came to pry him away from the gate but he persisted.
“i know death better than anyone else, angel.”
“you…!” sunday felt his legs give out on him. he could only gaze at the way your blood pooled at the floor. “what did you do…”
you chuckled. “i never thought i’d die for someone else, you know.” sunday's caught wind of the cawing noises on the other side of the gate.
“no…”
“who would've guessed i would die for your sins.”
“the papers…” and you only hummed to confirm his suspicion.
there was one thing that sunday noticed whenever s child needed to depart: your companion will always bring you a piece of paper with their name written on it.
“my name…” he weakly muttered. “i was supposed to die…”
“you were.”
were. you didn't kill him.
the papers that started to pile in your office and the way your companion never once left your side; they way that never - not even once - have you taken off your gloves off whenever you fondly brushed his bangs away from his eyes or the way you let him hold your hands.
you didn't kill him.
the room shook again, this time stronger than the previous ones.
“we need to leave, now!” the navigator shouted.
sunday felt his body being supported as the trailblazer slung one his arms over his shoulder.
“fly. fly far, far, away from here sunday; you're free now.”
how ironic it was, that you, “death” itself, would die for a man who tried to go against the principles of the aeon he claimed to follow.
you brought the head of the oak family to your waiting room, waiting for the moment when his name would be delivered to you so could cut the cord of his life. but you never did.
“you're no longer guilty, your sins have been cleansed.”
you didn't want to let him go, as he did with you when he held your hand that night.
“i’m sorry i couldn't be gentle like you hoped for. but this was the only way.”
“i hope you finally understand that human suffering is inevitable. that even when we're in pain we still find a way to value our lives.”
“we are not gods, angel, we don't get a say in what happens to humankind. but i hope you'll come around to accept that it's what makes us all human. remember us — me — with fondness in mind.”
sunday will never come to know death, because death died for him and his sins.
“i hope you enjoyed your time with death, sunday.”
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quietstormxr · 3 months ago
Text
No Need
Here's a Xaden x Reader that was a message request.
Slight Iron Flame Spoilers
Summary: You were Xaden's Wingleader and sent to Chakir. You discovered the venin and rebellion and want to fight, but don't want Xaden to know. You fight at Pavis and are injured.
Angst to Fluff
Hope this covers the request. I had a lot of fun writing it!
Word Count : 4.7k
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Getting used to the idea that you were now considered a ‘traitor’ would definitely take some time. As you walked up to the entrance of the fortress of Riorson House in the warm August heat, you couldn’t help but take in the brutal beauty in front of you. 
As you walked, you kept your steps measured, but your head held high. Your latest intercepted intelligence told you that this is where you would find the new instance of Fen Riorson’s original rebellion. Even though you no longer exchanged letters with Xaden, your heart knew you would never be able to let innocent people die for the lies Navarrian leadership would spin.
As you walked up to the fortress, someone with close cropped auburn curls came walking out of the doors. You honestly couldn’t believe they would let you get this close before taking you down, but you had just shrugged your shoulders and kept moving. 
“What is your business here, rider?” The man in front of you asked in an accusatory tone, leaving no room for niceties. 
Knowing there was no reason to beat around the bush, you began to explain. 
“I’m here to offer my services to the rebellion. I have deserted my post at Chakir and want to join the fight against the venin.” You said with your shoulders squared, chin high, and a tone of conviction. 
“What is your name, Lieutenant?” The man asked looking at the ranking on your flight jacket. 
“I am Lieutenant L/N. I was a wingleader of Fourth Wing two years ago and Xaden Riorson served as a squad leader under my leadership.”
The man kept looking at you as you explained, a flash of understanding flew across his features.
“Ah, yes. Lieutenant Riorson spoke highly of you. However, I’m sure you are aware that you will need to be questioned before your intentions can be ascertained.”
You nodded your head, while he began to lead you to an open room. 
As soon as you entered, you were overwhelmed by the stares directed at you. There were five other people, obviously older than you, that were looking as if they had just broken from a heated discussion. 
The man that ushered you in, gestured at a chair at the other side of the table and you took a seat. 
“I am Lieutenant Colonel Brennan Aisereigh. I know from Lieutenant Riorson, that you may have suspected that our operations existed. However, now that you are here, please help us get to know you by confirming how you learned of our existence, the venin, and any other current knowledge you can share.”
You gave a curt not before immediately starting to explain your reasoning for being there. You explained your close relationship with Xaden, leaving out the fact that you had been involved while you were at Basgiath. You explained how you came across the correspondence that led you to Aretia and the way you had come across the venin while on a patrol in Chakir. As soon as you were finished explaining everything you could, you were ushered out of the room and to another room.
You looked around and realized this must have been someone’s office, as there was a desk with papers and maps strewn about. You took a seat in one of the plush chairs lining the walls and got yourself ready for the long waiting game ahead as the members in the other room decided your fate. 
As you sat there, you couldn’t help reminiscing over the relationship that you and Xaden shared. You remembered the stolen moments you had taken in your room as the Wingleader of Fourth Wing, the nights spent together talking and laughing while looking up at the stars, and even the fights that always seemed explosive. 
You both had kept in touch when you first left Basgiath, but as distance does, it seemed that you both drifted apart. You still thought of him often and even remembered the touch of his hands on your skin. But, with all the rumors that you received at your post, you were more than aware that Xaden had moved on more than once at this point. 
 You took a deep breath and sighed, knowing that line of thinking wasn’t going to help you in any way. But before you finished exhaling, the door to the study opened. 
“Lieutenant Colonel, have you all come to a decision?” You asked as you stood to mark the respect to the rank of the man in front of you.
“Yes, the Assembly has confirmed that you are welcome to serve with us in this rebellion, if you so choose. However, if at any time your loyalties are called into question, you will have to face a tribunal.” He says his face stern to convey the gravity of what you were taking on. 
Without an ounce of hesitation, you say. “I understand completely. I am more than willing to prove myself of service to the Assembly and rebellion. However, if I may, I have one request.”
He looks as you with confusion and gives a quick nod for you to continue.
“As I’m sure you are aware, Xaden and I have history. I would like for him to be kept in the dark as to my involvement. I understand that this is his house, so I would like to find lodging somewhere else. I want to be just another name on the rolls of Lieutenants for you to command as you need.”
He looks at you with a face of slight confusion. “How do you intend on him being unaware if we use your name?”
I give a small smile and continue. “I would like to use my grandmother’s maiden name, in place of my last name. I don’t believe he will know who is on the rolls by just my first name. I also ask that if he ever returns to the rebellion full time, I am put on any other squad. I do not wish to be a distraction.” You say knowing that you may be the one that is distracted. 
“Otherwise, I will report to duty and such as normal.” I finish.
He gives me a look as if trying to discern something but nods his head in agreement. 
Months pass and your new routine continues to develop. You had moved into a small cottage near the fortress and were able to successfully avoid everyone in the fortress for the most part. The only people you saw regularly were Brennan, as you now knew him and Felix. 
Brennan had found you were a good sounding board for him and helped with strategy when things were constantly shifting. 
You didn’t mind either as it kept you extremely busy. You were constantly learning the movements of the venin, helping to research more on how their powers worked, and were even brought into negotiations with Poromiel. It was a whirlwind on how you infiltrated into the inner workings of the rebellion. 
As you are packing your bag for your next assignment, you hear the roar of wind hitting the windows of your cottage. You look out the window to see the largest riot you’ve ever seen flying overhead.
You scrunch your nose in annoyance though when you see Sgaeyl is leading the whole riot. 
‘Can we leave before Sgaeyl sees you?’ You ask Fenrir, not wanting to get caught up in explanations or reunions. 
‘I’m ready when you are Ferocious One.’ He confirms back.
‘Let’s go. I’ll meet you to the west of town, since I assume the riot will be flying to the valley.’
You hear Fenrir huff in agreement and quickly finish your hair and grab your pack, while sprinting out the door with a cloak drawn to hide your features. 
                                ____________
Not long after getting to the outpost you’d been stationed at near the Medaro Pass, your squad gets the information of the new arrivals at Riorson House.
You also received a personal correspondence from Brennan confirming that Xaden was still unaware of your involvement and that he would take great care to make sure you were stationed apart. 
You took comfort that at least you would still be able to fight this war without the distraction of Xaden in front of you. 
Neither of you had called your ‘relationship’ off, but you had just stopped sending him letters. It wasn’t for lack of him trying, but as you learned of different things, you couldn’t help the way you felt slightly betrayed. 
First you had found out he was betrothed while you were stationed in Chakir and then you learned of Violet Sorrengail and the saga of mated dragons. Both new realities made you sure that it wasn’t worth the fight or confrontation, so you were just going to let it lie. 
It helped that the rebellion was stretched thin, so there were already so few riders available to man outposts. The days that you were home in your cottage, Brennan confirmed that Xaden was on patrols. 
It felt as if you would finally be able to stay apart, but still be able to help those in need. As time progressed with the rebellion, you started becoming more reckless. You figured that there wasn’t much you had left in the world, so if you could make the ultimate sacrifice to save someone else, then why not. Fighting venin was never going to be predictable anyway.
                        ____________________
It didn’t go to plan. Then again, since you arrived at Basgiath, did anything really? You may not be as Basgiath any longer, but that didn’t mean the unfortunate incidents didn’t follow you around. 
Sometimes you wondered if the Assembly really knew anything about the movements of the venin and apparent army they had. It didn’t take more than ten minutes before the entire city was overrun. 
You were only caught off guard for less than a minute, but those precious seconds cost more than you were willing to admit. One minute the sky was clear and the next you were rushing to your dragon, strapped with every dagger you owned and hoping you could help as many people as possible. 
‘Fenrir, we need to draw the attention away from the civilians. Let’s cause a scene.’ You thought to your dragon, knowing that none of your fellow riders were going to approve of your plan. 
You were known for being a little bit reckless with your own life, but you figured that it was always better to save the masses, even at the cost of yourself. 
Your riot that was watching over the city was only you and two other Lieutenants, all of which has seen little as to actual combat. You were the only one that had previously dealt with the venin while stationed in Chakir. 
Knowing that you had the most experience with these creatures, you searched the horizon with Fenrir to see how many venin you would be dealing with. 
‘Ladon confirmed there are only two venin with this wyvern horde.’ Fenrir confirmed. 
‘Then let’s hunt the two. Can we get the attention of the most powerful one?’ You asked back hoping to draw the one with the most power your way.
‘Let’s hunt, Ferocious One.’
You let a menacing smile cross your face as you braced yourself on Fenrir’s scales. As soon as he got you close enough to the first venin, you let your hand fly with an energy whip flying to lash out as it flew past you on a grey wyvern. 
You were only slightly wrong on your calculation of what the venin would do, so you weren’t expecting when it willingly flew back to your side on Fenrir. The second of distraction was all it took for the venin to swipe a blade across your arm. You felt a searing pain lance through you, one that you had never experienced before. 
But you weren’t going to let the damn thing win that easily. Before the venin could register your actions, you pulled the energy taut again and slammed the alloy dagger into its chest. The screech that it let out caused you to immediately loosen the energy tearing at its waist. As soon as it dropped, you turned your attention to the other venin.
However, you were shocked to find there were now several more than before. Although wyvern seemed to be dropping out of the sky, there were more than you and your two other squad members would be able to take down.
‘Can you spot the next most powerful one? We need to keep drawing them away from civilians.’ You thought fiercely. 
‘I can, but you are hurt Ferocious One.’
‘I don’t care Fenrir. I will not let these people die.’
Fenrir gives a huff of exasperation, but you know that he will not let these people die either. 
‘There is additional backup coming that Ladon has called for coming now.’
You send a wave of confirmation, so Fenrir knows that you’re aware of what he said, but you’re focused on staying on his back and trying to push past the burning in your arm. At this point, you know that if this is your end, you will go down fighting as much as you can for the continent. 
As you fly forward chasing the next venin, you see the flash of blue scales that you had been dreading to see all these months. You know that there is no way Xaden doesn’t know who is on the back of the red swordtail in front of him. However, you don’t spend much time dwelling on that as you are in a collision course with another venin. 
You stand again on the back of Fenrir with your good hand grasping the scales in front of the pommel and make another lasso of energy ready to tear across the next venin. You go to lash out, but you hear a screech from next to you and turn to see a patch of desecrated land, where just a moment ago was a rider and her dragon. 
Turning fast, you decide to create an arrow of energy and launch it straight at the venin’s throat that just killed one of your fellow riders. You aim and it strikes true through its throat. You let out a breath as you watch as the civilians that were fleeing that area now have more time to evacuate. 
‘We’ve been told to retreat.’ Fenrir relays to you.
‘Why? There are still civilians at risk!’ You snap back, aggravated that you can’t continue to hunt these heartless monsters.
‘You can take that up with your leadership when we return to Aretia.’
“Ugh!” You can’t help the yell of frustration that rips through you at the idea that you will leave innocent people behind.
On your way back to Aretia, the adrenaline and fury of the fight is starting to wane. As you get closer to Riorson House, your body feels like every nerve ending is alight with fire. The absolute agony shooting through you is making it hard for you to keep your grip on Fenrir’s seat. 
‘Can you bring me back to the cottage and ask Marbh to get Brennan?’ You ask Fenrir as a particularly stinging pain comes searing through your body. 
You let your grip loosen slightly and tear the sleeve of your jacket open more. 
“Damnit!” You look down at your arm and see black spidering across your skin. 
‘I’ve been poisoned Fenrir.’
‘I know Ferocious One. I saw. I have relayed the message to Marbh and told him to get his rider there now. We will be back in just a few minutes. Hang on.’ He says as I feel bands wrap around my legs to keep me from falling. 
You silently thank your dragon as your body seems to want to dance in and out of consciousness. 
The next thing you know, Fenrir is landing in front of the cottage. 
“Y/N.” You hear a male voice call. You look up and see the auburn curls you were hoping for. Relief washes over you and you fall towards Brennan.
“Bren, poison.” You manage to rasp out. Your eyes flutter in and out and you could swear you see a swath of navy-blue fly above you and rope of shadows drop a figure to the ground. As you begin to finally cave to the acidity of the poison floating through your system, you think you hear a familiar male voice.
“What the fuck is going on Brennan?” The voice asks and you feel yourself getting yanked into a different pair of arms and against a hard chest.
“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” You can’t mistake the anger in the way the person says your name before you fully give in to the darkness.
You wake slowly blinking away the exhaustion that still seems to still be pulling you under. Your body only now feels warm, instead of the feeling of fire racing through your veins. 
The two male voices that you remember are now still talking in hushed angry tones.
“Why the fuck would you let her join and hide herself?” One of the voices hissed. “Then you send her to one of the most active fucking outposts. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I did as she requested when she came here.” The other voice volleyed back. “You already know that you aren’t privy to all of the decisions of the Assembly yet, especially before you came back with an entire untrained riot.”
“I don’t give a shit. You wouldn’t have accepted her terms if it were one of your sisters.” 
“She’s not your sister, so I don’t see how your decisions have any weight regarding her choices.” Gods, that had to be Brennan, at least your foggy mind thought that’s who it was.
“I don’t fucking care what you think! She’s not to be put on an active border like that again.” The other male voice roars. 
You hear one of them blow out a breath before continuing in a calmer tone. “That’s not for you to decide. It’s her decision when she wakes up how she wants to proceed. She has been invaluable for the movement and has provided guidance on movements and killed more venin than anyone else. It’s her life and her decision to make.”
“Over my fucking dead body.” The other voice says back, a dark imposing tone highlighting every word. 
“Look, she needs to rest, and you need to get yourself under control. I’ll stay with her tonight. You go back to the fortress and get yourself in order. And before you ask, that’s a damn order, now move out.” Brennan tells the other male.
You hear a frustrated growl rip through the air before you hear boots retreating from the cottage and slamming the door. At that, you fall back into unconsciousness as sleep takes you again.
A few days later, you slowly blink your eyes open and are greeted with the bedroom that you’ve called home over the last few months. You take a deep breath, the first that you have been able to take since the battle began. 
It’s with that realization that you jolt fully awake remembering the fight and staggering from Fenrir. 
‘Are you alright Fenrir?’ You ask unsure about what happened once you returned home.
‘Of course, Ferocious One. I’m glad to know that you are awake.’ He says in reply, a wave of affection surging through your bond. 
You slowly sit up and place your feet on the floor, shivering at the cold that has settled in the air. However, it looks as though someone had recently been at the cottage as the remnants of a fire are still glowing in the small fireplace. 
You grab a sweater from your small closet and toss it around the pajamas that someone seems to have changed you into. You walk into the small living room and find that someone has obviously been making themselves at home in your cottage. There are some food items on the counter and there’s a blanket spread across the couch that looks like someone just got up. 
As you continue to shuffle to the front door, you shake your head trying to clear some of the fog that has seemed to settle in your mind. You can remember hearing voices arguing but can’t seem to remember what they were arguing about. As you go to open the door, you feel the knob turning in your fingers and your brow furrows. 
The knob turns fully, and the door is opening with the full light of the sun spilling inside. You squint and blink your eyes several times before you can focus on the person in front of you. 
As your eyes finally acclimate to the lighting, you look up and take a full step back when the man in front of you comes fully into focus.
Xaden.
You continue to stare back in surprise and watch as you see the same emotion reflected in his eyes. 
“Gods.” He breathes out and the next thing you know, you are being crushed into an embrace. 
You let out a small squeak in surprise at the gesture which causes him to immediately pull back to look down at you. You watch as his gaze roams all over your body as if looking for a place that you’re hurt. 
You slowly step back out of his arms and watch as his expression turns blank. 
“Wh – what – what are you doing – here?” You stammer out as your voice croaks with disuse. 
“I should be asking you the same thing.” He says with a firm tone to his voice.
You scoff incredulously at the tone that the man in front of you has taken. It’s amazing how fast this man can get on your nerves, especially after you just woke up from being poisoned.
“I never asked you to come into my home.” You spit back at him. “And you can’t control my actions as a rider trying to protect the people of the continent.” 
“I beg to differ. If I don’t want you on the front lines, you won’t be. Just watch me.” He snarks back viciously. 
“Ugh.” You say as you turn away from the infuriating man in front of you. “I either fight with the rebellion or I fight alone. Your choice. I made my decision regarding the side of the war I am on, and you can’t change that.”
“Oh, I won’t.” He says lowly while stalking towards you. “But I can guarantee you won’t be going back to Draithus or anywhere near there.”
You look back at him incredulously. You can’t honestly believe this man would punish you for simply joining the rebellion without telling him.
“And why not?” You snap back with your blood now boiling in your veins.
“Because I can’t fucking lose you!” He roars at you, his chest heaving along with his panting breaths. 
You whirl your head to face him with shock written all over your face. Your entire body has gone instantly still trying to process the words that just came out of his mouth. 
“Wha – What – What do you mean?” You stammer in a whisper.
You watch as he prowls towards you before grabbing your face in both of his hands.
“I came for you. I went to fucking Chakir looking for you and no one knew where you were. I’ve spent months wondering if you were dead because I didn’t know what happened to you.” He rushes out with hands still attached to your face.
“Then when we came back here and I didn’t see you on the rolls of current active riders, I thought I lost you. I had people all over Navarre searching for you. I constantly asked Sgaeyl if she had seen Fenrir.” He huffs out a humorless laugh.
“Then we are called to help defend Pavis and what is the first thing I see, but your energy whipping a venin down to Fenrir and you kill it. But the damn thing sliced you before you landed the killing blow. I watched your face scrunch in pain before you put your mask back on and flew with Fenrir. I didn’t even know if you saw Sgaeyl on that field.”
You roll your eyes. “Of course I saw Sgaeyl, she’s beautiful and hard to miss. Especially with you as her rider.”
“Then I flew back towards Riorson House after, and you weren’t in the group that came back. Again, I thought I lost you before I found fucking Brennan holding your almost lifeless body in front of this cottage.” He continues to explain as he gestures around the small cottage with one hand.
His fingers had at some point started stroking your cheeks in a soothing motion, although you were unsure if he was trying to soothe you or himself. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you were here? Why did you stop writing?” He asks quietly. His tone of voice has now turned quiet almost as if he speaks too loudly the dream he is in would disappear. 
You turn your eyes down breaking his gaze, knowing that you don’t want to have this conversation. 
“Talk to me. Please.” He says pleadingly.
You look back at him with resignation in your eyes. “While at Chakir I found out about your betrothal and then about General Sorrengail’s daughter. I figured that you’d moved on. I didn’t feel like there was any reason to update you on my whereabouts any longer.” You sigh. “I didn’t want to bring in any additional complications for you.”
You look into his eyes and see regret and sadness. “My whole life I’ve never thought I’d have a choice on who I could be with.” He pauses before continuing. “I may have been betrothed and now tethered to Violet Sorrengail, but there’s only one person that I really want.”
You feel as one of his arms wraps around your back and the other hand rises to your neck and tilts your head back. 
“I couldn’t breathe when I saw you limp in Brennan’s arms. I nearly ripped his throat out for touching you like that and knowingly putting you in danger.” He whispers. “I haven’t felt whole since you left Basgiath. And I’ve only been looking for you.”
You can’t help the way you feel like you’re falling into the onyx depths of the eyes of the man cradling you close. 
“Please don’t shut me out. I’ve been here the last four days hoping against hope that you would wake up. I need you.” He continues.
“I won’t stifle you. I never could.” He says with a sad smile crossing his face. “But I want you to be with me. I don’t want to hide this anymore and I want you to fight with me.”
You continue searching those onyx depths and see nothing but sincerity and truthfulness. A small smile breaks across your face. 
“I’ll fight with you.” You say as his arms tighten around you. “But you may have to catch up. I’ve been counseling the Assembly in strategy for the last few months.”
A smile breaks across his face. “So, I’ve heard. From what I can tell, the Assembly is very impressed with you.”
“Well, I didn’t make wingleader just because of my pretty face.” You sass back playfully.
“That may be true. However, your beautiful face just makes all that wonderous talent even more deadly.” He says moving his face closer to yours, before turning serious again. 
“Will you be mine? No games, no hiding. Please.” He asks pleadingly.
You smile back at him before rising and kissing his lips lightly. For a moment he doesn’t respond, but once he realizes, he’s tightening his hand on the back of your neck and bringing you closer. His lips crash harder into yours, which causes yours to part slightly. He takes advantage of it and licks your bottom lip before claiming your entire mouth. You continue to share heated kisses before you are both panting and gasping for breath, resting your foreheads together. 
“You’re going to need to up your game if you’re going to surpass your girl with the Assembly, Riorson.” You tease him. 
He smiles brightly before replying. “No need. I’m more than fine backing up my girl and standing by her side.”
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anakinstwinklebunny · 4 months ago
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PETER PAN!ANAKIN HEADCANONS
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Author's note: here both of them, anakin and reader, aren't children. Here they're both around 17-18
TW: no smut!
Author's note: a lot of blogs that crossed through my dms had lately decided to deactivate. I fully support them however can't stop this melancholic feeling creeping up my spine. So, my crazy week with posting my work is dedicated to them. @katiapostsss-deactivated2024081 @yrsjune and so on.
divider - @hellfire--cult
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You always believed in fairy tales. Every night, you'd curl up under your blankets, eagerly turning the pages of your favorite stories, letting the words transport you to distant lands where anything was possible. But as much as you loved reading about those grand adventures, a quiet longing had taken root in your heart—a yearning to experience the magic firsthand. To leave behind the ordinary world and step into a place where dreams became reality and happiness was more than just a fleeting moment.
One night, after finishing another tale of Neverland, you couldn't ignore the pull any longer. The idea had been growing in your mind for days, and now, it was impossible to resist. You hurried to your desk, your heart racing with the kind of excitement you only felt when you were on the brink of something extraordinary. Grabbing a piece of paper, you scrawled a note in your neatest handwriting:
Dear Peter Pan,
I've left my window open.
Please come rescue me.
You stuck the note to your window, the cool night air drifting in through the gap you'd left. With a final glance at the stars outside, you crawled back into bed, pulling the duvet up to your chin. As you lay there, the house quiet around you, you could feel your pulse quicken with anticipation. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the leaves outside had you holding your breath, hoping that this time, it wasn’t just the wind. Would he really come? Could he be real, like the stories said?
You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to miss even the faintest sound that might signal his arrival. And as the night stretched on, you waited—(im)patiently, your heart filled with a mixture of hope and a whisper of doubt. Somewhere deep inside, you knew that if anyone could take you away to where dreams were born, it was him—your favorite hero from all the stories you loved.
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Peter Pan!Anakin who actually made your dream come true;
Anakin, dressed in his usual green tunic with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, slipped through the open window with the grace of someone who had done it a hundred times before. His eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, and he took in the surroundings—a cozy space filled with books, twinkling fairy lights, and little trinkets that spoke of a dreamer. A map of Neverland was tacked to the wall, and in the corner sat a small chest overflowing with the kinds of treasures a girl might hoard: seashells, old coins, and feathers.
But then, his gaze landed on you, curled up in bed, your face peaceful in sleep. For a moment, he simply stood there, captivated. You looked like a storybook character yourself, with the moonlight casting a soft glow on your features. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of adventures you dreamed about, or what made you leave that note for him.
Before he could get lost in his thoughts, a sharp tug on his tunic yanked him back to reality. Tinker Bell, her tiny face twisted in annoyance, was buzzing around him like a bright, golden light.
“Hey!” she whispered harshly, her little hands pulling at his shirt. “We’re here for your shadow, remember? Not some girl.”
“Come on, Tink. Look at her. Isn’t she just… enchanting?” He took a step closer to your bed, but Tinker Bell darted in front of him, her tiny arms crossed over her chest.
“She’s nothing special,” Tink huffed, her wings fluttering rapidly. “Let’s just get what we came for and leave.”
Anakin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re just saying that because you’re jealous.”
Tinker Bell’s cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of pink. “I am not!”
Their bickering grew a little louder, and in the midst of it, you stirred. The soft murmur of voices slowly pulled you from sleep, your eyes fluttering open. At first, you thought you were still dreaming—because what you saw couldn’t possibly be real.
A boy, no older than you, stood near your bed, dressed in strange clothes, with tousled hair that looked like it had been styled by the wind itself. Floating beside him was a tiny, glowing figure, radiating light like a star. It took you a moment to realize what you were seeing, and when you did, your heart skipped a beat.
“Peter Pan?” you whispered, your voice tinged with awe and disbelief.
Anakin turned his attention to you, slowly taking in your beautiful eyes. For a moment he just stood there, not saying anything but taking in everything there was about you. He felt this weird feeling of butterflies in his stomach before he composed himself and a charming grin spreading across his face. “The one and only. And you must be the one who left that note.”
You sat up slowly, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Peter Pan was standing in your room, looking even more handsome than you had imagined. “I… I didn’t think you’d actually come.”
He stepped closer, all traces of the earlier argument with Tinker Bell gone from his face. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he said, “Well, you called..and how could I resist an invitation like that?”
Tinker Bell, still hovering nearby, let out an exaggerated sigh but didn’t interrupt again. She could see the way you and Anakin were looking at each other, and she hated it
Peter Pan!Anakin who took you to Neverland and soon later introduced you to all the boys. Although you couldn't shake the tinkler bell's displeasure with your presence. Once you talked about this with anakin, he promised to do something (yet she hadn't really accepted you)
Peter Pan!Anakin who made sure any boy did not flirt with you. Especially Rufio
Peter Pan!Anakin who loves to show off his flying skills;
"But—what if I fall?" Your voice trembled slightly as you looked down at the glistening, see-through blue water below. The height sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but gulp nervously.
Anakin chuckled softly, his eyes dancing with excitement. Hovering effortlessly in the air above the shimmering water, he looked down at you with a cheeky, reassuring grin.
"Oh, darling," he said with a teasing lilt, extending his hand towards you. "But what if you fly?"
"I—" You hesitated, your gaze flickering once more to the soft waves crashing against the cliff. The fear of falling tugged at your heart, making your pulse quicken.
Anakin sensed your hesitation, the flicker of worry in your eyes. His grin softened, turning into a look of pure encouragement. He continued to float with ease, his hand still reaching out to you, his confidence unwavering.
"Come on, love," he coaxed gently, his voice brimming with warmth and certainty. "Take my hand. I won’t let you fall, I promise. Just think of something that makes you happy."
"Happy thought?" You echoed, your voice small, but curious.
"Right, a happy thought." He paused, his gaze deepening as he searched your face. "Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and imagine something that fills your heart with joy. It could be the warmth of the sun, the sound of laughter, or a memory that makes you smile. Hold onto that feeling... and trust me."
You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you. Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand in his. The warmth of his touch sent a spark of reassurance through you, and you felt yourself being gently lifted from the ground.
As your feet left the soft grass, you felt a moment of panic, but it quickly subsided as Anakin's grip remained firm yet tender. He guided you into the air, and before you knew it, you were floating beside him, the shimmering water below now seeming more like a distant dream than a threat. The cool breeze kissed your skin, and you marveled at the sensation of weightlessness.
"Open your eyes," he whispered, his voice soft and filled with wonder.
You obeyed, your eyes fluttering open to take in the breathtaking view. The height was dizzying, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.
"Oh my—" You gasped, your body instinctively tensing as you realized just how high you were.
Anakin chuckled again, this time more softly, as he wrapped his arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His presence was grounding, a steadying force in the midst of this surreal experience.
"It’s alright," he soothed, his voice a comforting murmur in your ear. "I’ve got you. Just hold onto that happy thought, yeah?"
You nodded, your lips forming a thin line as you forced yourself to focus on the happiness that had brought you here, rather than the fear. When you looked up at him, his handsome face was glowing with pride and affection.
Anakin smiled at your nod, understanding the depth of trust you had placed in him. He moved closer, his body brushing lightly against yours, a silent reassurance that you were safe with him. The breeze played with your hair as the two of you floated together, suspended in a moment that felt like pure magic.
"See, love?" he murmured, his gaze never wavering from yours. "You’re flying. Just like I promised."
Peter Pan!Anakin who quickly developed feelings towards you
Peter Pan!Anakin who, despite his playful nature, is fiercely protective of you. He won’t hesitate to confront any danger in the forest, whether it’s a mischievous pixie or a dark force threatening your safety.
Peter Pan!Anakin who you made nervous (which was uncommon for someone like him)
Peter Pan!Anakin who you quickly started to call by small nicknames that he loved (always manage to make his cheeks flush)
Peter Pan!Anakin who gave you a bouquet of glowing flowers;
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in rich shades of pink and orange, Anakin found himself deep in thought. Over the past few days, his mind had been occupied with one thing—you. His feelings for you had grown stronger, more intense, and it was getting harder to keep them hidden.
In the quiet of the evening, Anakin busied himself gathering a bouquet of glowing flowers. Their luminescent petals bathed his surroundings in a soft, ethereal light, casting shadows that danced around him as he worked. He wanted to create something beautiful, something that might convey the emotions he couldn’t quite put into words.
"Ani? What are you doing?" Your voice, sweet and soft, broke through his reverie.
Startled, Anakin jumped slightly. He had been so engrossed in his task that he hadn’t even noticed you approaching. His heart raced, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flooding through him. Instinctively, he tried to hide the bouquet behind his back, though it was already too late.
"Nothing! I’m just… uhm…" He stammered, fumbling for words as a faint blush crept across his cheeks. Realizing that he couldn’t hide the flowers or his intentions any longer, he sighed softly and brought the bouquet forward, revealing it with a sheepish smile.
"I… I made these for you…" His voice was tinged with nervousness, his gaze flickering between the bouquet and your eyes.
"For me?" You asked, a mix of surprise and warmth in your voice.
Anakin’s blush deepened, and he nodded, his usual confidence faltering as he anxiously awaited your reaction.
"Yeah, for you. I remembered how much you liked the glowing flowers on our last walk… so I thought I’d gather some for you. I wanted to… brighten your night."
"I--well--thank you," you replied, a genuine smile spreading across your face.
Relief washed over Anakin at your response, and he couldn’t help but return your smile. He shuffled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck—a habit of his when he felt nervous or unsure.
"I’m glad you like them. I tried to pick the prettiest ones I could find."
Your smile widened as you stepped closer and you decided to do something new, something you've dreamed about doing for a long time. Standing on your toes, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek
"They're perfect" you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.
Anakin’s heart swelled at your words, his smile growing as he held the bouquet out to you, the glowing flowers reflecting in his eyes.
"I’m glad you think so. I wanted to do something special for you… because you’re special to me."
His words were soft, almost shy, as he took a step closer. The glow from the flowers illuminated his face, highlighting the earnest expression in his eyes. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing in the gentle light of the flowers.
Anakin’s heart pounded in his chest as he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The soft light cast by the flowers created a halo around you both, making the moment feel even more magical. As his lips met yours, the world fell silent. The only thing that mattered was the tender connection you shared, the warmth of his embrace, and the gentle rhythm of your heartbeats, perfectly in sync.
Lost in the kiss, Anakin felt a sense of completeness he had never known before. He didn’t notice Tinker Bell’s jealous stomping in the distance, too absorbed in the feel of your lips, the softness of your skin, and the way you fit perfectly in his arms. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, wanting to savor every second of this precious moment.
Peterpan!Anakin who often sang soft lullabies to you when you’re falling asleep, his voice soothing and full of love. And he always promised that he’ll always be there to protect you, no matter what.
Peter Pan!Anakin who, despite the thrill of adventure, has his tender moments. He loves to cuddle with you in a cozy treehouse, wrapped up in a blanket while he whispers stories of his past and dreams of the future.
Peter Pan!Anakin who is a dreamer, constantly imagining new adventures, and he's always trying to impress you with his latest idea. Whether it's finding a new hideout, building something impressive, or planning a daring raid on the pirates, he loves when you join him in these endeavors. Your support means everything to him, and he often seeks your approval without even realizing it.
Peter Pan!Anakin who makes sure to keep you safe from the mermaids, or the treacherous jungles. He'd probably do anything to ensure you're happy and safe, even if it means putting himself in harm's way.
Peter Pan!Anakin who has a special place in Neverland that he never showed anyone else until he met you. It's a secluded spot, perhaps a hidden waterfall or a secret treehouse, where he goes to think and be alone. When he finally takes you there, it's a significant moment, symbolizing how much you mean to him and how much he trusts you.
Peter Pan!Anakin who loves using the magic of Neverland to play tricks and have fun. He might use fairy dust to create harmless pranks, like making your hair float or turning your shadow into a playful doppelgänger
Peter Pan!Anakin who uses you as a comforting presence when he doubts himself.
Peter Pan!Anakin who makes a promise to you, something sacred in the context of Neverland. It could be a vow to always find his way back to you, no matter where you are, or to show you a new star every night.
Peter Pan!Anakin who was first to snuggle up to you when the time came for you to tell a goodnight story to the lost boys
Peter Pan!Anakin who had to save you from captain hook
Peter Pan!Anakin who took you to different places to spend more time with you;
Hand in hand, Anakin gently guided you through the lush, enchanting greenery of Neverland until you reached a serene spot that overlooked a breathtaking view of the setting sun. The sky was a canvas of warm hues—orange, pink, and gold—casting a soft glow over the landscape. A cool breeze brushed against your skin as you stood together, taking in the beauty around you.
He led you to a large, flat rock, the perfect place to sit and watch the world slow down. You both settled down side by side, the sun sinking ever so slowly toward the horizon.
"Now you're just neglecting the Lost Boys,"* you teased, a playful giggle escaping your lips.
Anakin chuckled in response, the sound warm and familiar. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Ah, but they’re used to it," he quipped, turning his gaze back to the vibrant sunset, the colors reflecting in his eyes. "They’re resourceful boys; they’ll manage just fine."
"Besides," he continued with a grin "I’m indulging in my favorite princess right now. The Lost Boys can wait their turn."
As Anakin admired the sunset, lost in the moment, you found yourself unable to take your eyes off him. His strong profile was softened by the fading light, and something about this moment made you want to express what was on your mind.
"You're different from how books describe you..." you mused softly, a small smile tugging at your lips, even though you knew the concept of books was foreign to him.
Anakin chuckled again, the sound low and rich as he continued to gaze at the setting sun. He could feel your eyes on him, and there was a curious edge to his voice when he finally responded.
Turning to meet your gaze, he arched an eyebrow in a blend of playfulness and curiosity "What’s...book?"
You shook your head, a slight smile still on your lips. "Nothing. Don’t mind it," you replied, brushing off the question, knowing it would lead to more complexities than you were ready to explain.
Anakin studied you for a moment, sensing that there was more behind your words. But instead of pushing further, he turned his attention back to the sunset. A brief silence hung between you, filled only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of Neverland’s creatures. Then, with a playful smirk, he turned back to you.
"You’re quite the mystery, you know that?" his voice carrying a hint of admiration mixed with a teasing edge, his eyes still reflecting the vibrant colors of the sunset.
Peter Pan!Anakin who's mood each time fell whenever you mentioned going back to your world
Peter Pan!Anakin who deeply conflicted about the idea of growing up, especially when it comes to your relationship. He fears that you’ll eventually want to leave and grow old, while he stays the same
Peter Pan!Anakin who eventually had to accept your decision;
Anakin listened intently as you spoke, his expression growing somber. He knew this conversation was inevitable, but he had been dreading it, avoiding the harsh reality of losing you.
"I know...I know." His voice was thick with emotion, and he paused, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat "But what about Neverland? What about... us?"
When you suggested he come with you, a flicker of hope and doubt crossed his eyes. Yet, the idea of leaving Neverland, the only place he had ever called home, was almost unthinkable.
"You know I can't. This is my home. Neverland is all I know," he murmured, the corners of his mouth turning downward as he grappled with the decision before him.
You stepped closer, your eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and love.
"Please, Ani. I want you with me. I don’t want to leave you behind."
He sighed, his heart caught in a tug-of-war between his love for you and his love for Neverland. The weight of the decision bore down on him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped between two worlds.
But then, his eyes darkened, his expression growing more serious
"And grow up? Turn into an adult? Live a mundane life with mundane jobs and worries?" He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. The thought of abandoning the magic and freedom of Neverland for a life of routines and responsibilities made his stomach churn.
"It’s going to be okay...it’s not so bad—" You tried to reassure him, but your voice wavered, betraying your uncertainty. However you started to feel the watery liquid raise in your eyes but you managed to blink them off before they could escape their place
Anakin raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his face.
"Not so bad? It’s going to be a life of routine and expectations. We’ll be losing all of this—the magic, the adventures, the freedom…" His voice softened, laden with the weight of what he was about to say. "I don’t want to lose you either, but I don’t know if it’s worth the cost."
"What? I—anakin—" Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to make him understand. "I can’t just leave my family like that..."
"And I can’t just leave Neverland. Everything I’ve ever known, everything I’ve ever loved...this is my home." His voice wavered as his own eyes began to mist over. "I...I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t uproot everything I know to follow you."
A heavy silence hung between you, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you.
"So...this is how it ends?" You whispered softly, your voice trembling with emotion. You could fight, make him understand that being an adult isn't so bad like he thinks it is. Yes, there are responsibilities but still, it's not so bad. Yet, you found yourself submitting to his decision, to his slight stubbornness. And in that moment, you started to let go.
Anakin's heart felt like it was being torn in two. The pain in your voice mirrored the pain in his own heart.
"I guess so...I suppose this is where we say goodbye." He tried to keep his voice steady, but the sadness seeped through, making his words sound hollow. He stared at you, memorizing every detail of your face, knowing this might be the last time he’d see you.
With a deep breath, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss filled with sadness and longing. The knowledge that this might be the last time they would ever kiss made him cling to the moment, trying to make it last just a little longer. When the kiss finally ended, he took a shaky breath, his voice barely a whisper.
"But goodbyes aren’t forever, you know? We’ll meet again...someday, lost girl"
A small, pained smile tugged at the corners of his lips as you let out a dry chuckle, your attempt to mask the pain. He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary.
"You take care of yourself out there, okay?" His voice was tender, laced with a love that couldn’t be easily expressed in words.
You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes, and leaned in to press a small kiss to his swollen lips, sealing your bittersweet goodbye.
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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 8 months ago
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Noise Complaint (Chris)
Request: none
Warnings: secret relationship, semi public sex(hotel room), protective triplets, slightly possessive chris, degradation, filming/pictures, praise kink, daddy kink, getting caught by a fan, being found out by Matt and Nick, super rough sex, dom!chris, lingerie, choking, slapping, spanking, oral(male receiving), cum swallowing, creampie, facefucking, hair pulling, choking, maybe more idk
A/N: this was written when they were on the versus tour which is why it obviously mentions the tour
Y/n’s pov
We were going into week three of the boys’ tour and it was getting increasingly harder for Chris and I to hide the fact that we’re dating. Nobody knew, not even his brothers or Madi, who’s my best friend. At home, it’s a lot easier to hide the fact that we’re dating because Chris and I have always been super close, so us going to “hang out” alone wasn’t abnormal. Thankfully I was invited to go on tour with them since Madi couldn’t go this time, meaning I would have to share one of the two rooms with one of the triplets. You’d probably expect me to be sharing a room with Nick, which I wouldn’t mind considering he’s one of my best friends, but Chris had managed to convince both Matt and Nick to let him sleep in the same room with me by claiming he needs to cuddle with someone when he’s not sleeping in his own house. Since we’d usually get one room with two beds and the other with only one bed, neither Nick nor Matt wanted to have to share a bed or cuddle with Chris so they had “forced” me to be the one sharing a bed with Chris. Not that I was complaining anyways.
This was basically the only time when we could be completely alone however, Matt and Nick always had the room next to us meaning we could never have sex if fear of them hearing us. Luckily for us, the hotel we were staying at tonight only had rooms on separate floors. Currently, we were at the venue getting ready for the meet and greet as we just finished the show, everyone was still dressing in the color for their team. My color being red, I wore black cargo pants with white stitching, a red belt, a red corset top, and red Jordans, I paired my outfit with some silver jewelry and some basic makeup, adding winged eyeliner and red lipstick. As soon as I walked out of my dressing room, Chris pushed me back into it, “You look so fucking hot right now babe, I don’t know how I’m gonna control myself out there.” he said trying to go in for a kiss but I had to swerve it. Chris started pouting as I said “Sorry handsome, I don’t want to get any lipstick on you. We don’t want anyone to find out we’re dating, remember?” “Yeah, yeah, I just don’t know how I’m going to control myself out there because if I’m being honest, all I want to do right now is rip your clothes off and fuck you.” he said as we walked towards the door to leave.
We met back up with Nick and Matt as we all walked out to the meet and greet area and started taking pictures with fans. There was this one guy who came up to me and started flirting, I could tell that Chris was irritated but it’s not like he could do anything about it. “You’re hot, can I get your number and take you out to dinner? You know, maybe I can get you away from these boys and show you what I can do.” the guy said, making me slightly uncomfortable. Luckily for me, Nick saw this and came over to us “Hey man, can you not talk to her like that and move on to she can take pictures with non-creepy people? Thanks.” he said shooing him away. The guy did leave, but Chris still kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye to make sure nobody else bothered his girl.
After the meet and greet, we had all decided to go get dinner at a restaurant, and guess who just so happened to be our waiter? The creepy guy from earlier, and I think all the boys could tell he was making me uncomfortable. Due to this Nick ordered for me so I wouldn’t have to talk to him and we got threw dinner without an incident, well except for when we got our receipt, which had his number on it. I could literally feel the jealousy radiating off of Chris as we waited for our Uber, “Chris what’s wrong? You look super pissed off, are you okay?” Matt had asked him. “I’m fine, I just want to be at the hotel already.” Chris replied through gritted teeth making both his brothers give him a weird look before we got inside the Uber and went back to the hotel. Laura had met us in the lobby, handing us our room keys and telling us our room numbers as all five of us piled in the elevator. Laura got off first, then Matt and Nick, as soon as the doors closed Chris grabbed my hand, “I don’t like people flirting with you, I wanna punch them all in the face.” he said while rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand as we walked to our room
As soon as we got inside our bedroom, Chris pushed me up against the door “I want my fucking kiss now, you’ve had me so hard all day.” he said before capturing my lips in a kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, playing with his hair as our kiss turned into a heavy makeout. He started pressing his body against mine so I could feel how hard he was before he pulled away, “I’ve been waiting to do that all day. God, Y/n/n you look so hot in this outfit, shit I never thought you wearing red lipstick would make me so fucking hard, you’re gonna have to start wearing it more often.” Chris told me. I had a little surprise for him, I had just been waiting for when we could get the chance to fuck on tour, I bought it at one of our stops after hearing Chris say I looked hot in red a million times. “Would you do me a favor?” I asked him in a seductive voice, continuing to speak after he nodded “Can you go stand in the bathroom for like five minutes, please? It’ll be worth it, I promise you’ll like it.” “Ughhh you know I don’t like surprises!” he whined. “You’ll like this one I promise!” I told him as I shoved him into the bathroom, I quickly went to change into a pair of red heels and a lacy red lingerie set before quickly reapplying some lipstick.
I sat down on the edge of the bed before telling Chris he could come out, “This better not be som- holy fuck!” he cut himself off as he stopped dead in his tracks a few feet away from me. “Do you like it, baby?” I asked innocently, he was at a loss for words, only being able to mutter out a delayed “Uh-huh, really like it…” as I stood up and walked over to him. Chris couldn’t stop staring at every move I made, I grabbed his hand and led him over to sit on the bed. He slid off his shirt and shoes as his eyes continued to scan my body, “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me or are you going to use me like I planned on letting you?” I said as I traced my finger across his jawline, tilting his head up to look at me. His lips were wet and red as he kept licking and biting at them and his eyes were so blown out that you could barely see a small sliver of blue.
Chris quickly stood up to take his pants off before sitting against the headboard, pulling me with him “As much as I love those heels, Imma need to take them off because you’re gonna be real uncomfortable wearing those in a bit.” he said making me take them off, instantly pulling me onto his lap when I was done. He grabbed the back of my head before smashing our lips together in a hot and needy kiss, he swiped his tongue across my bottom lip while pulling me hair causing me to gasp, giving him a chance to slide his tongue into my mouth. Chris suck and licked my tongue and lips, letting out a deep groan when I started slowly grinding on him, his hands quickly making their way down to my ass with a tight grip. He slowly pulled away biting my lip, “God, I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight! You’re gonna be so full my cum like the filthy little whore you are, gotta show you who you fucking belong to after that guy flirted with you today!” he growled into my ear.
I knew he was serious when he said I’d be filled with his cum considering neither of us had cum since tour started. I started trailing kisses down his neck and chest, disappointed that I couldn’t leave any hickies “Look like such a slut right now, wish I could take pictures and shit because you look fucking hot.” Chris groaned. I stopped kissing his body and looked at him from between his legs with an innocent smile “Who said you couldn’t? You can take videos of me sucking your cock or fucking me for all I care.” When I said that Chris groaned and his cock twitched. You could tell he was constantly dripping precum from the growing wet patch on his gray boxers. After a second he stood up and grabbed my wrist, dragging me with him before he grabbed his phone out of his pants “Get on your fucking knees for me, I’m taking you up on that offer.” he said while caressing my face before pushing me onto my knees.
He pushed down his boxers, stepping out of them before he tapped his cock against my lips, I quickly opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out waiting for him to put it in my mouth. He placed his thick cock onto my tongue before thrusting into my mouth, pushing some hair out of face while I sucked on the tip. “Can I really record you baby?” he asked while caressing my face, I pulled off of him for a second, using my hand to continue to stroke him. “Yes baby, you can record it and take pictures of whatever you want tonight.” I told him before deep throating him, Chris let out a loud groan before he started to record me. I looked up at the camera innocently as I started sucking him off “Put your hands behind your, I’m gonna fuck that pretty little face of yours.” he said as he placed his hand on the back of my head.
I placed my hands behind my back as Chris started slowly thrusting his cock into my mouth, I hollowed out my cheeks making him let out a low groan. He started fully fucking my face roughly causing me to gag when his tip would hit the back of my throat. I started to whine and moan against him when he started fisting my hair and pulling it, the constant abuse of my throat combined with him pulling my hair caused tears to start falling down my face. “God, you look so pretty like this for me! Next time I’m gonna cum all over your slutty face!” he grunted out, making me whine around him again. I felt his cock twitch before his grip on my hair got tighter and he’s thrusts grew erratic. “You gonna let me cum down your slutty little throat baby?” he asked, I moaned around him as a response before his hips sputtered.
Chris shoved my face down so his cock was literally down my throat, my nose pressed against his pubic bone. “Fuck baby, so good for me.” he praised as he came before pulling out of my mouth. “Open your mouth for me.” he said making me quickly oblige, showing him my mouth full of cum. “Swallow.” I did as he said, sticking my tongue out to show him I did what he asked before he stopped the video. After he caught his breath he helped me stand up, “As hot as you look in this I need it off, right now.” he growled helping me take the lingerie off. Once Chris had helped me undress, he cupped my face in his hands to wipe the dried tears and mascara off my cheeks. Chris sat up against the headboard again, telling me to sit on his lap. He grabbed my throat to pull me into another rough kiss harshly sucking on my tongue, groaning when he felt my wetness spread across his cock, which was already hard again.
Quickly flipping us over, pushing my right leg up against my chest before slamming into me. I let out a loud moan as he gave me no time to adjust before he was pounding into me. “Fuck, so goddamn tight for me! You like being treated like a slut don’t you? Such a good girl.” he grunted as I scratched my nails done his back. “Yes! Yes, your good girl daddy! Please, so good!” I moaned incoherently. “Please what baby? What do you want?” he asked me but I couldn’t explain what I wanted as he was pounding into me so roughly and it felt so good. Since I was whining and moaning so much I just grabbed his hand, making him lightly slap my face. “You want me to hit you? God, you’re such a kinky whore!” he loud groaned before actually slapping my face making me let out an extremely loud, high pitched moan as I came around him. Chris grabbed my jaw harshly, getting closer to my face “Fucking bitch! I didn’t say you could cum, you didn’t even fucking ask!” he growled at me before slapping me again as I cried out, quickly becoming overstimulated. “Open your damn mouth!” I did as he said before Chris spit into my mouth making me whine “Fucking swallow bitch!” he said and I quickly obliged.
Me and Chris have never had such rough sex before but we were both living for it, not even registering the fact that we were in a hotel room and the people next to us could probably hear our moans. Chris suddenly pulled out making me whimper, “Hands and knees slut.” he ordered and I quickly did as he said. He pushed on my back making me arch it before he licked from my clit all the way to my ass hole, loudly groaning as he pulled away. “I’m gonna fuck your tight ass one day and you’re gonna let it happen.” he said before slapping my ass. “Chris please, need your cock back inside me.” I begged “You’re fucking greedy aren’t you?” he asked rhetorically as he ran his tip through my folds teasingly.
Chris then started thrusting into me at a slow pace, “Faster daddy, please!” I asked in a whine voice. He started thrusting quickly and hard, his nails digging into my hips as a form of leverage. Both of us were being extremely loud at this point since this new angle felt amazing, he had leaned forward to play with my nipples. He knew my nipples were extremely sensitive so he used that to his advantage, relishing in the fact that he was the only person to make me feel this way. With the combination of Chris playing with my nipples, aggressive thrusts, and loud groans he was letting in my ear were getting me extremely close to cumming again. “Mmm please can I cum daddy? Feels s-so good don’t stop! F-Fuck please!” I cried out making Chris let out an almost animalistic growl in my ear. “You can cum but I’m not fucking stopping!” he said moving one of his hands to my throat. I came around his cock for the second time tonight, crying as I was extremely overstimulated.
Chris pulled back to sit up straight again on his knees when suddenly our hotel phone started to ring. He slowed down his thrust, making me whine before going to pick up the phone. “Be quiet baby.” he told me, still slowly pumping in and out of me, Chris cleared his throat before actually answering the phone. “Um hello?” he asked confused, I started thrusting back against him causing Chris to completely stop moving and slap my ass harshly. “Uh oh okay, y-yea. I’m s-sorry.” he replied to whatever the person on the other end of the phone said before hanging up. Slapping my ass one time before flipping me over, looking down at me with a stupid smile. “We just got a noise complaint, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop. It just means you need to shut the fuck up!” he laughed before thrusting back into me.
Chris once again started thrusting into me but this time he smashed our lips together in an attempt to stifle my moans. These thrusts weren’t as rough as before, but they were still quite fast as we were both nearing our orgasms. We pulled away for just a second, Chris saying “Shit baby are you close? Because I’m about to fucking cum in you!” I just nodded in response not wanting to be loud again. He brought his hand down to rub my clit in fast, tight circles as he pressed our lips together again. After a few more thrusts, I was cumming around his cock with a whine, this caused Chris to cum as well. Filling me up before slowly pulling out, using his fingers to collect the cum dripping out of me only to shove them in my mouth a second later. He laid down next to me as we caught our breath for a minute.
Once our breath was back to normal Chris stood up before grabbing my hand and helping me up as well. My legs were trembling and it was kind of hard to stand but we silently walked over to the bathroom. Chris told me to pee while he turned the shower on, going back out into our room to grab our toothbrushes, my hair brush and, my makeup wipes before returning. We took a quick shower using the soaps that the hotel had in there before we got out. Chris wrapped one of the big white fluffy towels around me before grabbing another one for himself, I grabbed one of the smaller towels to wrap my hair in making chris giggle. “You look cute like that babe.” he said sarcastically as we got ready to brush our teeth. I used a makeup wipe to get the rest of my makeup off my face and some red smudges of lipstick off from around Chris’ lips. He insisted on blowing my hair so I didn’t argue and just let him do it since my legs were still shaky and I was tired.
Once we were done in the bathroom we went over to our suitcases to get changed, I wore an oversized shirt and panties while Chris just wore some boxers before we climbed into bed and went to sleep. We woke up at 7am as we needed to get back on the bus to drive to our next location, quickly getting dressed in some comfy clothes and brushing our teeth before gathering our things to meet Nick, Matt, and Laura in the lobby. Unfortunately for us, we walked out at the same time as the person from next door that made the noise complaint. We were just going to ignore her until she said our names, “Y/n? Chris? You guys were the ones fucking extremely loud next door?” she asked making us both blush and turn around. Chris awkwardly scratched the back of his neck before sheepishly nodding “Oh my god are you guys dating!? That’s so cute I love it! Oh shit did I ruin your night last night?” the fan said super fast.
“You can’t tell anyone about this!” Chris and I said at the same time, not wanting this to get out. “We don’t want anyone to know we’re dating yet, not even his brother know so could you please keep this private and between us?” I asked nervous. She agreed to do so as long as we followed her fan and main accounts on insta, which we obviously did before taking a quick picture with her. As we started to walk away, Chris turned around again “Oh and by the way, you didn’t ruin our night, you just made us realize we gotta be more quiet.” he said while laughing. We got into the elevator to go down to the lobby when Chris grabbed my waist and pulled me in for a quick passion kiss, pulling away right before the doors opened. Nick and Matt got into the elevator with us, Nick seemed to be oblivious but Matt gave us a weird look. “Why are you two blushing and shit?” he asked suspiciously, but luckily for us the elevator doors opened and we walked out to meet with Laura to go to the bus. Once we got settled in on the bus, Matt looked over to Nick before saying “You owe me 50 bucks, they’re definitely dating so pay up” making Chris and I blush.
“How do you know that? We’ve been so careful!” Chris exclaimed as Nick looked at us, irritated because he owes Matt money now, “I don’t know, maybe it’s the because she’s wearing your hoodie or the fact that you have pink lipgloss on your lips” Nick said. Both brothers started laughing but quickly stopped when Chris said “Well at least I scan do this more often” pulling me in for a quick kiss. Both boys gave us a cheesy smile as they were happy that we were finally dating before we all drifted back off to sleep.
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mcuamerica · 6 months ago
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Most Idiotic Mate | Cassian x Fem!Reader
Cassian Appreciation Week: Day 7 - Free Day (Mating Bond) @cassianappreciationweek
Summary: Cassian is very sheepish around you but he’s even more protective. What happens when you go to the Summer Court with him? (Requested by anon here and here)
Warnings: misogyny (not from Cass), protective bat (Cass), canon level violence, lmk if anything was forgotten…
graphics by @tsunami-of-tears
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You were the soft, quiet, ray of sunshine librarian that Cassian couldn’t get enough of. Anytime he wanted a new book on war strategies or tactics, you were happy to find them for him. It was, after all, your specialty.
You came to the library of the House of Wind after the temple near Illyria was attacked. Luckily, no one got hurt, but it resulted in hundreds of important scripts and scrolls being burned. Rhys, as the good High Lord he was, offered you a position at the library to be their dedicated War Researcher.
You weren’t a priestess, and you certainly weren’t as traumatized as the others were, but the House of Wind library was your home. And yet, you tended to leave the library often to go find more books or research in Velaris. Or even in other courts. Only with Cassian’s protection, of course.
So, when you decided to go to the Summer Court to find a specific strategy in the technique you were researching, Cassian insisted on coming.
For him, it was making sure you were safe. Making sure his mate was safe.
Azriel loved to tease him on how "lovesick" he was with you. But nobody but Cass knew about the bond. Not even you. He didn't think he, a big, brutish warrior would be good enough for you, the quiet, shy, happy librarian. It wasn't fair when you looked at him with such adoration every time he stepped up to protect you. To guard you at the other courts. It was almost like you knew about the bond and didn't tell him. Like he didn't tell you.
You, on the other hand, couldn't be more oblivious to Cassian's affections. You loved Cassian. You were in love with him. But you didn't want to ruin the friendship you had. Who would come with you to visit courts if it did? You loved Az and Rhys, but they weren't Cassian. They didn't make you laugh with their sarcastic comments. They didn't growl at any male who looked at you the wrong way. While some females may have found it overprotective or possessive, you found it endearing. He was making sure you were well protected under his arm, surrounded by his wings.
Soon, you walked onto the roof of the House of Wind, clad in your normal attire for the summer court. Loose fitting pants and tunic, clad in Summer Court white with glints of Night Court teal. Your hair was braided back as you met Mor, who would winnow you both to Summer Court. Azriel was standing beside her, quietly chatting with her.
Cassian was decked in his Illyrian armor, all 7 Siphons on display, when he came through the stairwell. As they always were when you were going to another court.
Mor and Az watched as Cassian tucked in his wings, lowering himself towards you in greeting. "Are you ready to go to the Summer Court?" He asked.
You smiled up at him, nodding happily. "I am," you said softly. "I can't wait to find this book. I think you're going to like it too, once I finish reading it. And then we could compare notes." You said happily. "Or we could read it together!"
Azriel held back a laugh as a blush crept up Cassian's cheeks.
"Oh.. Uh.. Yeah, yeah that would be great." He said.
Azriel coughed, glancing over to Mor. Cassian, one of the deadliest Illyrian warriors, was making himself smaller, blushing, and stumbling over his words. For you. It was endearing, but it was going on so much now that Mor and Az had a plan.
"The Prince would love to see (Y/N) while you're both there. You should stop by the palace in Adriata." Mor said. "Tarquin? You remember him. He's the nephew of Nostrus."
"Me?" You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself. You were no stranger to meeting princes or High Lords. Rhys valued your opinion on war tactics and had you sit in on calls and diplomatic meetings. But it was always surprising when one of them requested for you.
"He said something about a private dinner." Azriel said.
"With me?" You asked again, looking up at Cassian. "I-I don't know if Rhys would approve of a private dinner." You said, looking back to Mor.
"You won't be alone. I'll be there with you." Cassian said, setting a light hand on your shoulder.
You let out a sigh and smiled. "I hope Prince Tarquin is okay with that." You said squeezed Cassian's hand.
"Can we go now? The library there closes early and I don't want to waste a minute." You said.
Mor stepped up offering her hand to you.
"Better hope Tarquin doesn't make a move before you, brother." Azriel whispered to Cassian before winnowing away.
Cassian glared at the spot Azriel was just in before turning to Mor. "Let's go."
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You found your book and about five more that you wanted to bring back to Velaris. As you were making your way to the palace, you saw Tarquin approached Cassian and you.
"Lady (Y/N), it's a pleasure to see you again." Tarquin said, kissing your hand.
Heat gathered on your neck and you prayed he couldn't see. You stepped closer to Cassian, the familiar warmth of his body bringing comfort to you. "You as well, Prince Tarquin." You said.
"I'm just going to give these to Mor so she can bring them back to the Night Court... and then we will meet you for dinner." You said.
"We?" He asked.
"Cassian... will be joining. If that's okay." You said, shifting on your feet.
"Oh... that is fine." He said.
"Cass, I'm gonna go meet Mor in that cafe over there. Stay here." You said, squeezing his arm before you walked over to the cafe.
You waited for Mor as you stood with your books, glancing around. You knew Cassian was still watching you through the window. As you looked over to give him a smile, you missed the male that strode up to your side. "Do you need help with those?" He asked.
You jumped slightly, then looked over to the male. "Oh.. no, thank you." You said and shook your head. "I'm just waiting for a friend." You said.
"Isn't that what they all say?" He asked.
"Who... they?" You asked.
"You females. You just want to be left alone do you lie." He said.
"I'm- I'm not lying... sir." You said, taking a step back. "My friend is coming to pick these up." You said.
"Sir? I quite like that." He said, taking a step towards you. His hand came to your arm, causing your stomach to roll.
"Take your hand off me." You said.
"Why? What are you going to do?" He asked, stepping closer to you as his other hand came to your other arm.
"Let go of me." You said again.
"Or what?"
"The lady said to take your hands off." Cassian growled, one of his daggers immediately at the male's neck.
If the male was phased by a knife at his neck, he didn't let on. "Piss off, she's mine." He said.
"Let her go before I slice your neck." Cassian said.
He could smell your fear, smell the terror as you watched the male's eyes darken.
In an instant, the male winnowed out of Cassian's grasp to behind him, his sword now out in the middle of the cafe.
You stepped back, hitting your back against the window. The books fell from your arms as you watched Cassian draw his sword, a shield of red being put up around you.
"Get her out of here." Cassian growled. That's when you noticed Tarquin standing next to you.
"General, you should stand down." He said.
"You want to fight?" Cassian asked the male. He only growled in return.
"Come on," Tarquin said, motioning for you to follow him. You kept your eyes on Cassian as Tarquin escorted you out of the cafe.
"Wait." You said and paused, watching as Cassian and the male began to fight. The other patrons scrambled out when the male started to use his magic.
"Cassian!" You yelled when he threw out his magic, causing the building to rumble.
Tarquin held you back, holding onto your arm. "If you go any closer, you could get hurt." He said.
Tears began to build in your eyes as you felt the ground shake again. Something in your gut pulled you to him, needed him to be safe. Needed him to stop fighting.
A sob left your lips as the building finally gave way. "Cassian!" A primal scream left your throat, causing your knees to buckle as the building crashed around him.
You ran towards it, shaking out of Tarquin's grip to go find him. That's when it snapped. When you felt the bond tugging you closer to him, under the rubble. Your knees scrapped as you slid on top of it, digging the loose parts out.
You sobbed as your fingers tore, trying to find him. You felt the bond, felt it pulling you towards him. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be. Not when you felt a tug back. When you felt a sense of calm wash over you that he sent down the bond. Suddenly, just a few steps away from where you were digging, a red light shot out of the rubble.
You let out a sob of relief as Cassian emerged from it, dust covering his face and body. You crawled over to him and wrapped your arms around him. "Cassian! Don't do that ever again." You sobbed, burying your face in his neck.
You felt his chuckle as he pulled you close to him. You thought the worse when you only felt one arm wrap around your waist.
You pulled back, more tears falling from your eyes when you noticed he had all six of your books in his other arm. "I couldn't forget these." He said.
You laughed, hitting his arm as more tears streamed down your face. "I have the most idiotic mate in the world." You teased.
Cassian's eyes widened, searching yours. "You know?" He asked.
"The second the building fell..." You whispered.
"Gods... I love you." He whispered back, pulling your waist closer to him as he pressed his lips against yours passionately.
"You two are gross." You heard Rhys's voice ring out behind you.
"And you're banned from the Summer Court until further notice." Tarquin said, crossing his arms. "Please leave."
You pulled back, love shining in your eyes as they stayed on Cassian. "I think my mate deserves a well cooked meal for bringing down a building for me." You said.
"Don't encourage him." Mor said, helping you two out of the rubble. You were now both covered in dust, and a little bit of blood. But you didn't care. Cassian was your mate. And you absolutely loved the lengths he would go to so you were safe.
Cassian would take all the teasing in the world from the rest of his family if it meant you would look at him like you were now. With that same adoration in your eyes... but more. With pure love in your eyes. He would bring down the whole of Prythian just to see that look another time.
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I love expanding my ACOTAR list of characters. And I have one more one-shot I’ll be posting today as well!
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yourlittlebunnyy · 5 months ago
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fawn -tamlin x reader
masterlist
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summary: Y/n is the youngest Archeron sister. The Cauldon trasforms her into a fairy, and there's only one certain thing in her life: she doesn't belong in the Night Court.
warnings: slightly suggestive, Tamlin (haters step back🙏🤺)
wc: 5,5k
enjoy😉
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The Cauldron made you a fairy. A fairy. You scoff at the thought. Nesta has become death itself, Elain a seer. You a stupid, little, useless fairy.
That day, when Fae warriors came into your and your sisters' home and forced you into that place, you never thought you would end up with pearl-colored wings and be able to talk to flowers.
You've always been shy, you've always made yourself small in front of others, and when they threw you into that pile of magic, the Cauldron was generous, in the telling of your sister's lover.
"You went in last. It could have given you nothing, as it could have killed you, but it gave you wings. And flowers, plants, and everything a fairy possesses. You shouldn't pout." But you never asked for that.
When they pulled you out everyone's eyes were on you. How could they not? They had never seen such a thing. Sure, the Cauldron could turn a mortal into a Fae, but a fairy?
You didn't look anyone in the face that day, or the weeks that followed.
"I would like to learn to fly," you once said to Azriel. He replied that he could not teach you, that the fairies belonged to the Court of Spring and that even there they were so rare and secretive that no one knew anything about them.
"But you have wings, too. You just need to teach me how to move them. Please."
Azriel shook his head, a neutral expression on his face.
"I can't. Besides helping you support its weight, your wings are shaped differently from mine, they are smaller and more fragile. I cannot put your life in danger." The authoritative tone makes it clear that the conversation is over. You would have hoped to find a friend in him. Instead, every time you try to talk to him, his gaze has only coldness to offer. Perhaps all his warmth-which doesn't seem much to you at this point-is reserved for Elain.
So, for you, the days go on with no clear meaning. You are not allowed to leave the house, and you can only afford to observe Velaris, such a beautiful city and full of life, from the balcony of the house.
When Feyre returns, you thought for a moment that things would finally change. That she would convince someone to help you get to know your new form, your new being. But you were okay, sure, you were a little confused, but you were living. Elain was much sicker, and all your sisters' priorities belonged to her.
You found comfort in Lucien instead. A charming, red-haired Fae who had lived in the Spring Court for years. That's how you became friends: no one would take you into consideration, and you were desperate for some information, some help. And Lucien fortunately seemed to have answers to your questions.
"I remember you. That day, I mean." You and Lucien are playing chess. It is rare that you talk about that day, but sometimes it happens. You don't care much, talking about it with him has helped you in the past, "Actually, I don't remember much. I remember what Tamlin reminded me of."
Now that's new. Never once had the Fae told her about his High Lord turning his back on her sister. She knew something about it, but she didn't know the whole story.
"Did Tamlin recall to you about that day?" She asks a little incredulously. Lucien nods and tightens his lips, makes a move with a chessman, and a feline smile lights up his face.
"I think...," he freezes for a moment, as if to think carefully about his next words, "he's playing some kind of double game, with Hybern. To get information. He's a good male, only sometimes he struggles to show it."
You feel a twinge in your heart. You don't know why, you should be furious with the man who took your life to give you this. The man who hurt Feyre so deeply. But the way Lucien talks about it, with so much regret....
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You are sitting on the armchair in your room, already wearing your nightwear. You have a book in your hands and are completely immersed in reading, so much that you don't hear someone's footsteps outside your door. You gasp when they knock. You place the book in the small coffee table, and you don't bother to fix yourself: Lucien had told you he would come by and deliver a few things before he leaves Velaris for good. You get sad at the thought.
When you open the door you find not the familiar face, but Feyre's.
"Hey." She greets you. You return the greeting and wait for her to tell you why she is here. Although your new life started off on the wrong foot, feeling ignored by your family and useless, everything healed over time. Now the relationship between you and Feyre is closer than ever, Nesta is doing well, Elain is working on it. You have also learned to accept your sister's Fae friends. You even talk to them from time to time.
"I'm sad that Lucien is leaving. Especially for you" You nod, you know there is something else she is not telling you, "You know how much I told you about the High Lords meeting? I'd like you to come too, if you feel like it." You don't hesitate when you say yes. Your sister told you that not everyone had confirmed their attendance, of whom Tamlin. And she did not tell you about what happened with him. But something inside you urges you to go and meet him. It's for my being, you think, I just want answers, that's why I'm so impatient.
That night you struggle to sleep. At dawn you stop tossing and turning in bed and start getting ready, by now you give up: you won't rest that night anyway.
"You look wonderful" Feyre's words make you smile. She takes Azriel's hand, and in the blink of an eye they transmute into the palace of the Court of Dawn.
After greeting the others politely, you realize that Tamlin is not coming. You do not understand the reason for the disappointment you feel. Perhaps it is even better, so you avoid any awkward situation that might arise with your sister and Rhysand.
The meeting begins, and it is just as you start to disassociate yourself from the High Lords' boring talk that Tamlin appears.
He is alone. You don't remember him from that day in the Cauldron. But he is as you always imagined him. His blond hair reaches a little below his shoulders, clearly unkempt. His green eyes remind you of the blossoming plains. His skin tone is a rosy tint, his facial features delicate, almost princely. He is the very definition of spring, you think. He is a beautiful man, and you understand why his sister was once in love with him.
The silence in the air is tense. Tamlin looks at each person and takes his time with each one. And when he gets to you -- you feel his gaze run through your body, but you ignore him. You make a mistake, though. You look up too soon and meet his eyes. And now the thing is clear as day to you, what you feel in the center of your chest.
A bond.
Tamlin is your mate.
His expression turns surprised, his lips tight and his jaw contracted. He doesn't say anything. He moves on to the next person as if he hadn't heard it himself. But you can't contain yourself, and before you can stop it, a gasp escapes your mouth and tears cloud your eyes. You back away, stumbling back in your chair.
"Are you all right?" Feyre asks you, visibly concerned. You do not answer, but it is Beron, High Lord of the Court of Autumn, Tamlin's friend, who answers for you.
"A bond." He says simply, his tone both haughty and amused. Feyre sniffs the air, looks at you. Then she looks at Tamlin. And then back at you again. The look in his eyes... Rhysand says something, but everything around you is a blur.
First the Cauldron made you a useless fairy. Next the Mother punished you by tying you to Tamlin.
You listen to no one, with hurried steps you leave the room. No one follows you. Good, you think, I don't have to explain myself to anyone for a while.
With one exception, someone has followed you. Your body recognizes him before you do, your heart beats wildly, and you could cry from how wrong this all simply is. Your sister was going to marry this man. And she didn't, she ran away because he did something terrible to her, and now it was going to be your turn.
You stop in the middle of the hallway, and Tamlin grabs your arm gently, leading you into a small room. You try to ignore how such a soft touch puts a pleasant twinge in your stomach. No, you would never do that to your sister.
When you enter, no one says anything for a while and you feel his gaze on you, making you blush. He doesn't even know your name, probably.
As if he hears your thoughts, the Fae speaks to you. "Y/n." His serious tone makes you set your eyes on his. This is so wrong, yet looking at your mate feels like the right thing to do.
"How-how do you know my name?"
Tamlin smiles at your words. An expression so different from the one you saw on his face when he first walked in. It fits him, you think, and fear invades your senses because of the things you realize you would do, because of that smile...
"I remember it ... from that day, with the Cauldron..." Your body stiffens, as if remembering who the male in front of you really is. What he did to you. What he has done to your family.
It doesn't matter that he is your mate, you think. Your body may react to his look and touch, but you will not be betrayed by it.
Tamlin probably feels your emotions through the bond, and with a step forward he grabs your arm gently. He needs to touch you, and you don't realize how much you needed him to touch you, too. You welcome his warmth without fighting back.
"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I'm not just saying this because you are my mate, " Both of you seem to feel satisfaction when he says such words, the bond in your chest seems to glow and sing "I... had to do terrible things to protect my court. To protect Prythian. It was not in the plan to do such a thing to you."
You think about his words, his eyes shining with sincerity. Lucien has told you things that would explain Tamlin's words, that actually make him a good male.
"Tamlin." To the sound of his name on your lips, the man suppresses a growl. "I... Lucien has been telling me things. And I believe you, and I believe you are good male. But the thing with my sister..."
The look in the Fae's eyes becomes embarrassed, and the emotions you feel through the bond are a mixture of shame and remorse. You don't know what happened between the two, but it must have been really difficult if it causes him such a reaction.
"I regret how I behaved. What I did. I was broken, as was she, and I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to protect her, and to this day I realize my mistakes."
You study his face. You find nothing but honesty and pure feelings, and he is really putting your instincts to the test. He's so handsome that you want to jump on him, but on the other side of the coin-you still don't know if you can trust him. But he's your mate, and he deserves at least a chance. There's such a battle inside your head.
"I forgive you. For the Cauldron, I mean. I don't know if she has forgiven you, or will but..." Your hand moves to his where he still holds your arm, both of you smiling. "I think you deserve a second chance, Tamlin. And I -- I'd like to try."
The smile he gives you, so genuine that it makes his eyes sparkle with brightness, makes you realize deep down that you made the right choice.
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You have not made the right choice.
Neither you nor Tamlin ever returned to the meeting.
When you see your sister and the Inner Circle again, they are all furious with you. As if you chose the bond. You scoff at their looks.
"You disappeared all day with Tamlin. Do you realize that? What was I supposed to think you were doing with your mate, huh? Do you realize who we're talking about?" Rhysand yells at you. Feyre, who does not look angry but grieved, lays a hand on his arm, and after what seems like a brief mental conversation, the High Lord comes out with one last murderous look directed at you. Tears sting your eyes.
"Y/n, he didn't mean to be so mean, it's just that they have so many unfinished business..."
"What about you? What unfinished business do you have with him? Why do you all hate him here? And I'm not talking about the alliance with Hybern."
"None, Y/n. I have none. I have had my revenge. In all sincerity I wish him the best. And I want the best for you, too. So if you-if you've talked to him and he seems to-you seem to like him I won't have anything against you, or him, if you accept the bond." Saying these words seems like a great effort for her, but you appreciate it very much. Mor grimaces.
"No one? That male locked you up - no, he let you drown locked up inside his house. Don't you remember what condition I found you in? Well, in case you don't remember, I'll remind you, Y/n. That male after she was turned into a Fae locked her up in a room, denied her every single space of freedom until she went crazy and we rescued her. So don't-"
"Enough, Mor." Feyre says annoyed.
"You want the best for your sister, and you send her into Tamlin's arms without warning her what he would do to her?"
You are speechless. Tears wet your cheeks.
"But he told me-he told me he regretted it. That he was just as broken as you and that he just wanted to protect you..."
"Those are just words, Y/n. But in actions--what do you think is keeping him from doing the same thing to you? We will have no right to rescue you and bring you back here, because you are in fact his. Think carefully about what you want to do with such an individual." And with these words, Mor leaves the room, leaving you whimpering and afraid. Feyre approaches you and wraps you in a hug.
"Everything will be all right. I know you are afraid, honey. You just try, never stop trying, okay? You don't have to accept the bond right away. Even when you move in with him, if you decide to, you can wait and see if it's worth it. And in case it's not worth it, you can always come back as a free woman."
"I thought you hated him."
"No. Everyone deserves happiness, honey."
Before you can even consider your sister's words, war breaks out. Tamlin takes Hybern's side, but as you expected, it actually turns out to be all a double-cross.
You can feel his emotions through the bond, and you know he can feel yours, too. Sometimes your dreams come together and you are able to talk. If you were uncertain about trying before, now you are convinced.
Once you even woke up in the middle of the night. The bond in your chest overflowing with emotion - lust. Excitement. Pleasure. It didn't take long to realize that your mate was pleasuring himself. Just the thought of it was able to make you damp between your legs, and you discreetly slipped a hand under the sheets and touched yourself fantasizing Tamlin in front of you, rubbing his hard cock with one hand, while his eyes were fixed on yours. You reached your climax in the same moment he did, and you could have sworn you heard his laughter on the other side of the bond.
It was also the first time you tried to touch that bond, pulling on that sort of golden thread that connects the two of you. Tamlin responded by doing the same, and when you went back to sleep, you fell asleep with a smile. That night you dreamed about how your mate taught you how to fly.
The next day you were not able to look anyone in the face, though.
But that was a long time ago.
Now you are not in the comforting warmth of your bed. You are in a tent in a war camp and you are freezing. Your body shakes as you try to rub your hands together. Your wings are sore and have taken on a worrying purple tint, you are almost tempted to go to some healer's tent and ask for an extra blanket, but surely they would be full of injured people, and they would need it much more than you do.
A wave of warmth through the bond radiates through you, and you are grateful to have Tamlin right now, but it doesn't stop there. He touches the bond, like he did all those nights ago, and you find yourself out of your sleeping bag, but not to go to the healers. You meet no one as you head to the Spring Court camps. Your heart pounds - you haven't seen Tamlin since that day at the High Lords meeting. A slight blush covers your cheeks. How will you look that charming male in the face after what you did that night?
You don't know which tent is his, but your body seems to know. The bond takes you straight to him. You can smell him - citrus and spice - even before you see him. You enter without even knocking or warning of your presence, aware that he is able to feel your closeness just as you are able to feel his.
"I've been waiting for you." The male offers you a mesmerizing smile. He is different from how you had seen him. He has cut his hair, and it now reaches just below his ears. He no longer has such dark circles under his eyes and looks decades younger. He is now the living definition of spring more than ever. The mere sight of the man could bring you to your knees.
"Hey." You greet him softly, still a little embarrassed. He notices, because his smile now turns feline. You're my little prey and I want to play with you, he seems to say. Only now do you notice a pungent note in his scent - blood. Your worry fills the bond. Yet you have felt no pain through it lately.
He seems to sense the direction of your thoughts, because he shifts his gaze from your figure to his chest. That's where he bleeds. He has been wounded in the chest.
"Tamlin... You're bleeding." He nods, then offers you a reassuring look.
"Oh, don't worry, it's just a little scratch. You, on the other hand, looked very cold earlier." He cannot hide his concern.
"It's already better here, much warmer." You still feel the tips of your wings sore, though.
"To get to such a situation you must have been freezing for a long time, Y/n. Didn't they teach you how to take care of your wings in this situation?"
"Not really-I tried to ask, but I never got an answer." The anger on his face is impossible to mask. He takes a couple of deep breaths before speaking again.
"'Brute bastards." He hisses through his teeth. You feel in awe at his words; they are still your sisters' family.
"Tamlin..."
"No, Y/n. I'm fine, but you...fairy wings are different from Illyrian wings. They should have done some fucking research. You could have lost them, and do you know how painful that is? You could still be losing them." He finally realizes, and jerks around to get his blanket from his sleeping bag. It's thick and woolen, and as he wraps it around you, it smells of him in the best way.
"You're taking care of me." He looks at you surprised.
"Of course I'm taking care of you, Y/n."
"I want to take care of you, too. These days I've treated the cuts of the wounded, I can help you." Tamlin lets out a low growl, then shakes his head. He sits you down on his sleeping bag and positions himself next to you. Shoulder to shoulder. Even this small contact, divided by several layers of fabric, is capable of making your heart race.
"Please, mate. Let me take care of you." Tamlin sighs, then murmurs an unenthusiastic consent. You get up with the blanket still tangled around you, leave the tent without a word, and return a few minutes later with gauze, alcohol, and a clean bandage. You freeze in the doorway when you realize the man has taken off his shirt.
A shirtless male body was no stranger to you. You had often accompanied your sisters to see their males working out. You had gotten to appreciate the muscles. But Tamlin... seeing your semi-nude mate activates something in you, something similar to that night when you came with his name on your lips. You blush and approach slowly, he still has his back to you, as if he didn't hear you come in.
"Didn't they tell you it's rude to stare?" You know he's only joking, yet you still get embarrassed. Yes, you are used to a shirtless male. But to a shirtless male flirting with you? Absolutely not.
You take a deep breath to calm yourself, but the thing that cools your blood is the wound you see ripping through his chest as he turns around. You look at him surprised, anguish and disquiet flow freely through the bond.
"It's nothing, Y/n. I'll live." You find it ironic how he is the injured one, yet you are the one being comforted. You approach in silence, your eyes fixed on the injury, and let him rest his back on the sleeping bag. You kneel beside him, the blanket now forgotten on the ground, and soak the gauze with alcohol.
"Put the blanket back on, Y/n. It's cold." You ignore him, focused on wetting every last millimeter of the fabric. Tamlin is about to get up, but you place a hand on his chest, blocking him. The contact with his warm skin makes your cheeks warm, but the blood on his chest freezes them.
"What is it?"
"The blanket. Put it on."
"No, I'll be uncomfortable while I medicate you." Tamlin growls when you answer him. You snort a laugh, protective males. "Do you find my worry funny, fawn?"
"Fawn?" You startle at the nickname.
"Don't change the subject, put it on."
"But I'm uncomfortable, Tam."
"Then sit on my lap and wrap it around both of us." You don't let him tell you twice. You do as he says and start dressing his wound, which reeks of Faebane. That's why it didn't heal. You notice Tamlin clenching his teeth from the burning and as if on instinct, you reach down to kiss his chest above the wound. At the level of his heart. You both smile, but do not utter a word. When you finish bandaging his cut, you give him another gentle kiss, this time over the bandage.
"So you heal sooner and feel better." You smile at him.
"You are such a little fairy."
"Is that an insult?"
"No, fawn, how could I ever."
You don't converse much longer, the fatigue of battle preventing you from doing so. You get off his lap and lie down beside him on top of the sleeping bag. You remove the blanket and he seems to inspect your wings. A satisfied expression appears on his face and without needing a word, you remove the blanket and use it to cover yourselves. Just five minutes, you think, then I go back to my tent or I'll risk worrying my sisters.
Five minutes turns into the whole night.
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When you wake up, Tamlin is not there. You are under the sleeping bag, though. You smile at the thought. His side is cold, and you wonder how long you slept for. You get up and stretch, and take some time to poke around his tent, something you didn't do the night before. There isn't much there, but you were expecting it. You find a blanket with a note.
Take care of your wings.
You smile like a little girl under her Christmas tree. You leave the blanket there, but take his instead. It smells like him.
A little alarm bell rings in your head. Oh, God. Your sisters must be worried sick. You quickly grab your new blanket and run through the camps until you get to your tent. God, why did they put the Night Court and the Spring Court at opposite ends? It's an almost 10-minute walk.
You enter your tent panting where you find a very, very worried Feyre.
"Are you crazy! Where have you been!" She shouts without even looking at you. But then she does. She smells Tamlin's familiar scent on you. His blanket in your hands.
"Feyre...I can explain, I swear-" She turns a mocking smile on you.
"Ooookay. Maybe next time you warn before you leave. You gave us a scare!" She says without even time for you to respond, leaving you standing in the middle of your tent like a fool.
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You and Tamlin have a kind of unwritten agreement. In the evening he pulls the bond slightly and you join him in his tent. The Inner Circle knows this, but says nothing about it. It's better that way. Once Nesta even came to call you, making Tamlin chuckle and you die of embarrassment.
He never tried to do anything more than cuddle you. And you are fine with that. You don't want your first time with your mate to be in a war camp, on a sleeping bag, with the screams of the wounded in the background. One time he even took you to the top of a hill and you stayed and watched the stars until dawn, then he had to go back to fighting, and you had to go back to helping the healers.
You are afraid to admit it to yourself, but you are falling in love with that wonderful man. And you are afraid of not knowing what will happen once the war is over.
The fear of not knowing doesn't last long, though. Because the war is over. Hybern has died by the hands of your sisters, and Rhys has even died and risen again. You meet Tamlin as the camps are being shown.
"Hey, fawn." He says, smiling at you.
"Hey, Tam." You return his smile, but a motion of sadness contorts your lips into a grimace. Tears are quick to stream down your face. You don't want to cry in front of everyone. Tamlin seems to understand this, because he grabs your arm and within moments you are on the hill where he took you to see the stars a few nights ago.
"It's nothing, it's just ... I don't want us to be apart." Tamlin can swear he feels his heart break and recompose itself at the same time at your words, at your tone. At the emotions you are sharing with him.
"Neither do I, y/n. Neither do I."
Tamlin kisses you. It's sudden and unexpected. It is not a real kiss: he simply lays his lips on yours. His hands caress your face gently. After a few moments, you relax and respond to the kiss with just as much sweetness. Just as much love.
"Come home with me, Y/n. Come stay with me at the Spring Court." You think about his words. The words of the male you are in love with, your mate. Your heart tightens with happiness at those words. You will think of your sisters later: for now you just want to be in Tamlin's arms.
"Yes."
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Communicating this to Feyre was easier than expected, and since you had nothing significant in Velaris, you went straight home with Tamlin.
The Spring Court is... beautiful, breath-taking even. You can't hide the warmth in your chest, the feeling of home it communicates. And seeing your mate in the place where he belongs enhances the experience.
It is warmer than the dry cold of the camps, and you begin to sweat under the layers of heavy clothing. Tamlin notices, and invites you to follow him inside his palace until you reach a bedroom.
You take time to look around. The house seems full of life, smells of flowers and nature, and glows with gold. It is different from what you expected: Rhysand had mentioned, years ago, that he had paid a visit to the High Lord of the Spring Court, and found him in a miserable condition. And like him, so was his house. But to you that sounds like a far definition from reality.
The room he takes you to is beautiful. It is very different from the typical ones in the Night Court. There the wood is dark, the floors are rough, and everything looks like it's been through a battle. They're not ugly, they're just - gloomy.
While the Court of Spring is full of light and warm colors. The bed frame is made of a light, delicate wood and is carved with flowers and leaves. The room does not have much besides the well-prepared bed. There is a closet that echoes the pattern of the headboard, and Tamlin heads straight there.
He opens it, revealing a surprising amount of clothing.
"You can choose whatever you like, I'll wait outside." He smiles at you and you smile back.
You leave the room wearing a new dress. It is the one you liked most. It makes you feel like a fairy, but positively. It is definitely better than what you wear in the Court of Night. The fabric is softer, the pinkish white of the skirt is a color you've never seen before but already love. Tamlin's face lights up as soon as he sees you.
"You look beautiful in my Court clothes, Y/n." Your cheeks take on a rosy hue as you whisper a vague thanks. He holds out his hand to you and you immediately take it. Without a word, he begins to drag you through the corridors you admire all the way to outside. Into the gardens.
As soon as your eyes meet such beauty ... your breath catches in your throat. Your mind immediately wanders to your sister, Elain. How she would love it.
Your mate looks at you smugly.
"Do you like it?" You can do nothing but nod. Tears well up in your eyes at the relief you feel, and you realize you have lifted a burden, the opression of the Night Court.
The words come out of your mouth before you can even think them, let alone stop them, "I want to accept the bond."
Tamlin looks surprised. "What?"
"I-obviously if you want to. But-"
Your mate interrupts by kissing you. You are surprised the first few moments, but you quickly recover, responding to the kiss. The bond in the center of your chest seems to sing with joy.
"Now?" He asks when he pulls away from your lips, a gentle blush covers his cheeks and he is short of breath. He has never looked so good. You nod.
"A little further on there are some fruit trees. If you want we can go there."
You nod, and he takes you by the hand, fingers interlocked with yours, and once again leads you to some fruit trees. You take the opportunity to admire the beauty of his court again. Which will now become yours as well.
You stop in front of a loquat tree. In a comforting silence you turn to pick a fruit. You have nothing with you, and you struggle a little to peel it. You split it in half and offer it directly in front of his lips. He bites into the loquat with his eyes on yours. He finishes the whole fruit.
The bond seems to rejoice and shine and seems to unite your two souls even more than before. His gaze communicates to you that you have a long day ahead. A long night, too.
He kisses you fervently, his hands gripping your hips making you moan in the kiss. You didn't expect to feel this way. Sure, your sisters told you something about the frenzy ... but experiencing it firsthand is something else entirely. The intensity of what you feel is almost overwhelming.
You pull away from the kiss with a heavy breath. Tamlin's predatory gaze, the lust in the look, is impossible to mask.
"Fawn... tell me no now, or I won't be able to stop later." You don't even think about saying no. You desire him as you have never desired anyone. You want to feel him all over.
"Please, Tamlin. I want to be yours."
You spend all afternoon making love on the fields, careless of who might see you. You return only when it begins to get dark. A huge smile on your face.
You made the right choice.
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@rcarbo1
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rose24207 · 18 days ago
Note
May I request a George Weasley x reader where they are dating in secret because she's a Slytherin and their friends and families wouldn't approve their relationship, but reader gets tired of it being a secret but George wants so keep the secret so they fight and then reader gets injured in a Quidditch match and George doesn't leave her side while she's in the hospital wing? with a fluff ending please
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Love beyond house colors
Summary: After a secret relationship strained by house rivalry, George proves his love for his Slytherin girlfriend by standing by her side after a Quidditch injury and publicly declaring their relationship.
Genre: angst, fluff
TW: arguing, secret relationship, mention of prejudices
A/N: love the idea and here it is! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Masterlist
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Keeping your relationship with George a secret had been thrilling at first. It was sneaking around corridors, stolen kisses behind bookshelves, and whispered confessions under the cover of darkness. But over time, the secrecy had grown heavier. You weren’t ashamed of him—far from it. You adored him. What hurt was the idea that George might be ashamed of you.
You were a Slytherin. And as much as you hated the stereotypes, you knew the world wasn’t kind to your house. You could only imagine what the Weasleys would say if they knew George was dating you, and the thought of your own housemates’ ridicule made your stomach twist.
But the secrecy was becoming unbearable.
It all came to a head one crisp Saturday morning in the library. George had slipped into the seat across from you, his red hair unmistakable even under the hood he’d thrown over his head to stay incognito.
“Morning, love,” he whispered, his grin crooked and infectious.
You barely looked up from your parchment. “Morning.”
George tilted his head, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
You set your quill down and looked at him, your heart pounding. “I can’t keep doing this, George. The sneaking around, the lying—it’s exhausting.”
His expression faltered, and he leaned closer. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. You know what people would say if they found out—”
“I don’t care what people say!” you hissed, keeping your voice low. “George, I’m proud of you. I want to hold your hand in the halls, sit with you at meals, go to Hogsmeade without hiding in the shadows. Don’t you want that?”
“Of course I do,” he said softly, reaching for your hand, but you pulled it away.
“Then why are you so afraid?”
“I’m not afraid,” he said quickly, his jaw tightening. “But you’ve seen how my family talks about Slytherins. Fred would never let me live it down, and Mum—” He sighed. “I just want to protect what we have. I don’t want anyone ruining it.”
Your chest ached at his words. “You don’t trust us to be strong enough to handle it?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying, George?”
He hesitated, and in his silence, you stood, gathering your things.
“Y/N, wait—”
“I can’t keep doing this,” you said, your voice trembling. “When you’re ready to stop hiding, you know where to find me.”
You left before he could respond, blinking back tears as you walked away.
The Quidditch match later that afternoon was brutal. Slytherin was playing Ravenclaw, and tensions were high. You were determined to throw yourself into the game, hoping it would distract you from the ache in your chest.
The last thing you remembered was a bludger heading straight for you and a sharp, sickening pain as it collided with your side, sending you spiraling off your broom.
When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the throbbing pain in your ribs. The second was the warm hand clutching yours.
“Y/N?”
You blinked, your vision clearing to see George sitting beside you, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed.
“George?” you croaked, your voice hoarse.
He exhaled a shaky breath, squeezing your hand tightly. “You scared the bloody hell out of me.”
“What happened?”
“You fell,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “The bludger hit you, and you fell off your broom. Madam Pomfrey said you’ve got a few cracked ribs, but you’ll be fine.”
You winced as you tried to sit up, and George immediately leaned forward, helping you gently. “Easy, love. Don’t push yourself.”
“Why are you here?” you asked, though you didn’t mean it harshly.
“Where else would I be?” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “I couldn’t leave you, Y/N. Not after—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I’m an idiot. I should’ve never let you walk away this morning.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding for a different reason now.
“I was scared,” he admitted. “Not of what people would say, but of losing you. I thought keeping us a secret would protect us, but all it did was push you away. I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. I love you, Y/N. And I want to be with you—no more hiding.”
Tears welled in your eyes, and you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. “You mean that?”
“Every word,” he said, leaning closer. “I’ll tell Fred. I’ll tell my parents. I’ll tell the whole bloody school if you want me to.”
You let out a watery laugh, wiping your eyes. “Maybe start with Fred.”
He chuckled, his grin returning as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Deal.”
Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. “I’m so sorry, love. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to.”
“You’re already forgiven,” you whispered, your heart swelling with love.
The next day, George made good on his promise. By breakfast, the entire Great Hall knew about your relationship. Fred’s initial shock gave way to teasing, but by the end of the day, even he was begrudgingly supportive.
And as you walked hand-in-hand with George through the castle, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d finally found the freedom you’d been longing for—all because of the boy who wasn’t afraid to love you, no matter the odds.
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Thank you for reading!
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