#ability to properly proofread

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi finding out you pretended to be a boy in order to get trained properly and him falling head over heels for you after

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,2k

Synopsis: If there's one thing you always hated, it was being underestimated. Because you're nothing but a petite girl in the eyes of every other demon slayer you stumbled upon with even the sound hashira going easy on you. They left you no choice but to pretend that you're a boy in order to finally get the training you deserve. Little did you know it will be the wind hashira himself who uncovers your dirty secret...

Warnings: it's Sanemi so language, the bonus scene is for those of you who are in desperate need of some spice (no direct smut), last part not proofread because this needs to be published and I'm tired lol

Thank you sooo much for that super cool request, @xxx-oneofthegirls-xxx, I hope you like what I came up with (also, you made me listen to one of the girls nonstop while writing this hehe)

You stare at your foreign reflection in the mirror, cheeks still burning. This looks ridiculous and you know it, your plan so plain and stupid that you regret your decision more and more with each passing second.

But you have to do this.

“Don’t overwork yourself, (y/n). You’ll rest here while the others run a few extra miles.”

“But Tengen-sama, I-“

“Here, let’s get you something to eat!”, Suma cried out.

“You’re overworking that poor woman, Tengen-sama”, Mako commented dryly.

“I already told her to take a break!”

Because without pretending that you’re a boy, they’ll never take you seriously. Not when you’re a petite girl, not when everyone treats you like porcelain because of your small frame and gender. You came her because you’re ready to fight, because being a demon slayer is your true destiny. You want to get trained hard, you urge to surpass yourself each and every day.

You stare at your eyes filled with determination in the mirror. Therefore, you need to make sure they see nothing but a normal boy in you. 

It’s hard to breathe properly with countless bandages tied around your chest in order to hide your feminine curves to their eyes. Carefully, you tie a ribbon around the ends of your hair and pull them up. Good, now your hair is about shoulder-length. A plain hairband that is convincing enough as a sweat band turns your usual longer hair into a temporary short cut.

Is this enough? Will the mist hashira actually believe you?

Confidently, you change into the uniform you stole from a boy nearby earlier and grab your katana. There is no other way than finding out.

“Where’s that little girl? Didn’t Tengen-sama allow her to continue?”

“Huh, you mean the little wallflower? I bet she gave up when she saw what hashira training really means. She wasn’t even strong enough to hold a sword.”

Your heart drops to the floor while your eyes automatically look down in panic and distress. Everyone underestimates you over the sheer fact that you’re a girl. But why? Why would you give up? Why is everyone thinking you aren’t strong enough when women like Shinobu Kocho show them how it’s done? You didn’t train since you were 4 to get reduced to your gender and height.

No, you’ll show them soon enough how good you really are and that you’re no one to be messed with.

“Look at him!”

“Who is that guy?”

“He fights as good as Tanjiro!”

“I’ve never seen him around. Do you know him?”

And you did. Training after training, hashira after hashira. Somehow, you surpassed them all. Despite your small frame, your disadvantage towards the boys with their ability to move freely in the scorching hot sun, you made it.

“It seems like you’re decent handling your sword. I have no use for you here anymore”, Obanai proclaims dryly.

You…you did it? You’ve been here for 3 days, spent the first day tied to a wall while getting smacked by some useless comrades. But you really convinced him, the serpent hashira, the man a lot of the others were so afraid of.

Your heart jumps up and down in excitement. You convinced him.

“Thank you”, you mumble in reply with deepened voice.

“Let’s see how you’ll keep up with Shinazugawa. Now get lost.”

Shinazugawa? You’ve heard that name before. Is this…the wind hashira? Your eyes widen as you sprint down the forest in the merciless sun. If Iguro Obanai is considered rough, Sanemi Shinazugawa has to be a menace. You heard from countless slayers that went back home as soon as they arrived at his estate, some beaten up so badly that they needed treatment.

For days.

You swallow hard. If this man finds out that you’re not who you pretend to be, you’ll be dead. But you have no other choice. After everything you’ve been through, you won’t give up because of the wind hashira’s bad reputation.

“How’s training going?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring into the distance.

“All of them are trash. There’s only one that is decent, though”, Obanai replies dryly.

“Don’t tell me it’s that Kamado brat-“

“No, I’ve never seen that boy before. No one seems to know who he is. He’s pretty small for his age and acts even weirder than the others but I can’t deny that he’s skilled. Even Kanroji…praised him”, Obanai presses out.

He’ll definitely never forget you for taking up the space of a full hand-written site in her note to him.

“You all went too easy on him, then. I’ll mop the floor with his ass when he gets to me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. There it is, the estate of the wind hashira. Only him and the stone hashira are left. Only these two until you’re able to drop your false identity and use your newest skills in a real fight. When you’re done here, you’ll finally be able to protect your village properly. No demon will ever hurt your friends and family again.

You just have to get through a few more days of training. A few more days with the wind hashira…

-two days later-

“Get lost, brats”, Sanemi barks out in sheer frustration.

Are these losers really supposed to be useful in a fight against Kibutsuji? They aren’t even good enough to hold their wooden sword correctly, let alone find the right stance to fight. God, this is such a waste of time, so fucking annoying that he smashes his own wooden sword into the ground roughly.

“Fucking useless rabble”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

When his blurry sight catches yours, he’s even more infuriated. He really thought the other pillars were too gentle with you. You, with your thin and small frame, with your innocent eyes that almost make you look like a girl. And while you look like the biggest loser of this whole corps, you manage to fight better than all the others.

“Enough of this bullshit, we’re using real swords now”, Sanemi barked at you while already grabbing his sharp katana.

“Fine.”

You didn’t storm towards him, didn’t act out of confidence or rage. You stayed so calm that Sanemi didn’t know how to act for the split of a second.

The split of a second. This minor moment was enough for you to lift your blade and scratch his cheek ever so slightly.

“Did he…Just hit the wind hashira?”

“This can’t be true. A strange guy like him, hitting one of the most powerful demon slayers?”

“You…You have some fucking nerve, little brat! I’ll make you pay for this!”

Oh, how often he tormented you. Made you stand up in the middle of the night for a fight, forced you to stand up against all your comrades. He pushed you over your limit over and over, made you suffer in a way he never did before.

But you still stand your ground. Still, you grab your wooden sword and follow the others inside at dawn as if nothing happened.

And it simply drives him insane.

“You, little brat!”

“Yes, Shinazugawa-sama?”

Your guts turn in an instant. In contrast to the other hashira training, this feels like a trip to hell and back. It almost seems as if the wind hashira made it his mission to let you suffer more than anyone else. What have you done to deserve his anger? Did you act out of line, aloof? It has to be the fact that you injured his cheek during your fight…

“Never mind. Get out of my sight.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. Instantly, you turn on your heels and make your way to dinner. Maybe you’ll finally have to chance to wash yourself tonight. With all those unexpected training sessions and the wind hashira torturing you until far past midnight, you didn’t even find the time to take a bath. Urgh, you can’t wait to finally take those bandages off and to wash your itchy scalp. All that sweating without the relief of a jump in the cool lake nearby is definitely hard to endure.

But tonight. Tonight you’ll finally get the chance to escape the merciless gaze of Sanemi Shinazugawa.

He doesn’t know what keeps him up tonight. Is it the full moon that lights his room, his still enraged heart? It’s still hard to believe that you’re acting up like this, that you manage to hit him. Out of all the jerks he trained, why does it have to be the smallest and therefore weakest one?

Maybe all he needs is letting his anger out on you. Sanemi storms into the dormitory wearing nothing but a casual yukata. He might hunt you around the lake for a few rounds or lets you practice your sword bows until you turn blue-

But his eyes don’t get greeted by your hair sticking out underneath you’re blanket.

“Where the hell are you, brat?”, he hisses to himself.

“This feels like heaven”, you moan to yourself while you dip your head into the cool water.

You never cared about getting covered in mud or dried blood sticking to your skin. But oh, the feeling of cleaning yourself up again after a rough day is just unmatched. Gently, your fingers brush through your wet hair, free yourself from all the dirt of those last days.

When will you be able to return? After that, only the stone hashira is left. How did you manage to land all the way over here? Hiding behind the identity of a boy no one know in order to get treated equally. Your efforts were definitely worth it. With those countless new techniques you’ve learned, you’ll finally be able to stand up against the demons that haunt down your village on a regular basis. Finally, you’ve got the education you deserved.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

All color drains from your face in an instant. You don’t have to look past his knees to know who stays right in front of you. Why didn’t you hear him coming? How did he manage to show up in front of you without you noticing?

“S-Shinazuwaga-sama”, you breathe out.

It doesn’t matter how he found you. With your hair open and your upper body barely covered by the water, he already saw through your well-hidden secret. Or better said, your lie.

“You’re so dead.”

You can’t escape. In the matter of seconds, he is with you in the water and grabs your wrists roughly.

“You lied into our faces this whole time?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I had to-“

“You’re nothing but a little girl!”

“You left me-“

“What else do you have to hide? Are you even a demon slayer? I’m totally in the mood to kill you right on the spot-“

“YOU LEFT ME NO CHOICE”, you finally blurt out.

“No choice? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Tengen-sama treated me like porcelain because I’m a woman, but I didn’t want that! I wanted to train like the boys do, I wanted to suffer like everyone else! How am I supposed to become a decent swordswoman when everyone goes easy on me because of my gender!?”

“You…You lied to us.”

“I did.”

“You aren’t a guy.”

“I’m not.”

Thick silence hangs between both of you, only interrupted by sharp and heavy breaths. What now? Will he send you away in dishonor or even worse, exclude you from the corps completely? You’ve worked so hard to even get accepted, poured your heart and soul into those past days. All of this, vanishing in thin air?

“Please don’t send me away”, you finally press out.

“Are you dumb? Ain’t no way I’m letting you stay-“

“I can’t return home in dishonor. I did all of this to be able to protect my family and village. If I return home like this…”

You can’t finish your sentence, your throat suddenly feeling so tight that you even fail to breathe.

“Get out of my sight.”

“But I-“

“I said get out of my sight!”, he screams on top of his lungs.

You flinch backwards and almost trip into the water. Talking doesn’t do much. If you’re not leaving the next few seconds, he might drown you.

With a heavy heart you leave the water, carefully hiding behind a tree until you’re fully dressed again.

“What’s your real name?”, he shouts towards you harshly.

“My name is (y/n)”, you mutter, not daring to look into his cold eyes.

And then you stumble back. Back into the dormitory you know so well by now. Back into what might be the last night at the demon slayer corps for you.

“Remember that skilled guy you told me about?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring at the ground.

“Yeah. What about him?”

“It’s not him. She’s a fucking girl that pretended to be a guy.”

It still feels like a feverish dream. Why did nobody realize sooner? Not even himself…God, he’s such an idiot for not throwing you out instantly. You lied straight into his face, you lied to the whole demon slayer corps all this time. You deserve to leave, you deserve all that hatred and disgust.

“That’s actually quite impressive. How did you find out?”, Obanai comments dryly.

“I caught her bathing. Said she didn’t want to get differently because she’s a girl.”

Just the thought of seeing you there lit by nothing but moonlight, your long hair draped like a veil around you and your female curves he didn’t even know existed…

“That are some unexpected news. Do the others know?”

“I won’t tell ‘em. I’ll kick her out the corps when I return.”

“Why kicking her out? No matter if boy or girl, you can’t deny she’s the most promising one until now. Why not keeping her?”

“Keeping her?”, Sanemi repeats in sheer disbelief.

“Ain’t no way I’ll ever speak to a filthy little liar like her again.”

“Her plan worked, though. And I hate to admit it, but she did pretty good.”

Sanemi’s furious eyes dart towards Obanai in nothing but frustration. You fooled every single hashira until now. You hold so much potential that eventually…Would you survive as his tsugoko?

“I’ll leave”, he finally speaks out before turning his back on Obanai and storming away.

What the hell is he supposed to do?

How utterly dumb you feel sitting on that porch with your wet hair still open in the cool breeze far past midnight. You have no idea where he went, if he’s out to inform the head of the corpse about your behavior or even worse, your own family. Is it too early to pack your few belongings, to leave before he comes back? You definitely can’t stand another round of getting yelled at by the wind hashira.

“What are you doing here outside, brat?”

Fuck. He steps out of the darkness like an unpromising shadow with his face as hard as stone.

“I can’t sleep anyway”, you murmur.

“I’m so fucking mad at you for shitting me like this. Pretending you’re a guy while you’re just a girl.”

“I’m not just a girl”, you clarify sharply.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re a lying little brat but-“

He takes a deep breath in while sitting down next to you.

“But you’ve got what it takes. I’ve been looking for a decent tsugoko for quite some time now and-“

You can’t believe your ears. This man can’t possibly be the wind hashira you know by now, the man who looked like he’ll drown you any minute just a few hours ago. He can’t suggest to take you in as his tsugoko, right? There’s absolutely no way this man wants to train you on a regular basis-

“And maybe you’re that decent fit.”

Oh.

“Me, as your tsugoko”, you repeat his words in order to make them sound real.

“I’ll still kick your ass for lying into my face like that, though”, he adds aggressively.

Never in your life would you ever dreamed of being the apprentice of a hashira. You always worked hard, always made sure to develop your skills with everything you do, but being considered a tsugoko? Of the wind hashira, who never takes in a student? Who seems so rough and cruel but allowed you to handle your katana even better?

“I’d love that”, you finally breathe out.

“I’m beyond thankful you’re e-“

“Shut up immediately. A yes is enough. You’ll stay here with me, then.”

“Y-yes, Shinazugawa-sama!”

“No go to sleep, I can’t beat your ass when you’re tired”, he mumbles before getting up and leaving while your feelings are still over the place.

You, the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

-a few months later-

“Gimme your best shot now, brat!”, he barks at you.

Sweat runs down your forehead like a waterfall, your heavy panting tasting like blood. Just one more hit, one more strike and you’ll get him.

“Thunder breathing, fourth form-“

“Too slow”, he comments next to your ear.

Within the split of a second, you find yourself just inches away from the dirty ground with Sanemi’s arms keeping you from falling.

“Still not fast enough. Do it again.”

Mindlessly, he still drops you into the dirt with his sword casually draped over his shoulder.

You lift yourself off the ground with trembling limbs. There you are again, deep within your trip to hell and back. What you expected when agreeing on being the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

You grab the handle of your sword even tighter and storm towards just like you did hundreds of times before with the smallest of smiles creeping up your features.

Well, exactly that.

-steaming hot bonus: meeting in the lake at night-

You allow the cool water to caress your countless wounds gently. How good it feels to finally bathe every single day instead of once every few days. When the truth came out and everyone started to realize that you aren’t a boy, you regained a part of your freedom along with the merciless training of the wind hashira. Each and every day, he tortured you and others with his cruel training methods before you slide into the lake before the sun sets and go straight back to sleep.

Not today, though. It has to be almost midnight by now, the stars in the sky glimmering so magnificent that you can’t look away. Sanemi allowed you to visit your family and friends today. As you have learned, demon attacks have subsided since the sister of Tanjiro Kamado mastered the sun. And even though that means your loved ones will be safe, you can’t deny the slight turn of your guts. This means a war is around the corner, that Muzan Kibutsuji himself might come for all of you.

But this is nothing you should think about now. Not when you just returned and desperately longed for a bath. You dip your head into the cold water, moan to yourself as the water surrounds you fully-

“What the hell are you doing here, brat?”

Sanemi.

Out of instinct you cry out while burying everything except for your head inside the dark water. You’re butt-naked. How long has he been here already? And…has he seen you? Suddenly your whole body feels hot against the cool water around, cheeks turning dark red.

“Calm down, idiot-“

“How long have you been here already!?”

“What? I’m always taking a bath around this time. You’re the one who shouldn’t be here”, he clarifies dryly.

There he stands. Droplets of water run down his bare chest and almost make him shimmer in the moonlight. His wet hair stick to his face so delicately that you can’t force yourself to look away. He looks…hot.

Hot?

“I-uh…I just returned from…home”, you stutter.

“Hope your family is fine”, he mumbles along with slicking his hair back.

Within these past months, you’ve caught a glimpse of Sanemi you’ve never witnessed before. This man isn’t as cruel as everybody makes him look, his words aren’t always meant as harsh as they sound. Sanemi has a very tender side. Especially when his eyes soften for the blink of a moment, you couldn’t help but feel lost.

“They are. Apparently, the incidents with demons involved lessened when I departed”, you press out.

God, you’re acting ridiculous and you know it. Sanemi is your teacher, your training partner. Even though you’re living under the same roof (he even gave you an own room), there aren’t any romantical feelings between both of you.

“Good to hear. I’ll let you rest a little tomorrow morning. You have to be dead tired.”

“I’m fine”, you lie in an instant.

Truth is, you’re so drained out that the water is the only thing that’s able to keep your knees for failing you at the moment. Not only from your journey, but all those countless harsh training sessions, dueling yourself over and over with Sanemi and the others. But you’d never admit it, would never say it out loud.

“You’re probably the baddest liar out there. Your cheeks are red as hell, (y/n)”, Sanemi comments dryly.

You don’t dare to move when he stretches out his hand. Enough to gently caress your cheek, enough to cause an explosion in your stomach.

Did Sanemi just touch you? Tenderly?

“I…N-no…I…”

You can’t find the words. In fact, you are too distracted to care about something like words. Slowly but surely, he draws closer with his perfectly formed chest exposed to your hungry eyes.

“(y/n), I…There’s actually something I wanted…Well…Fuck!”

Is that really Sanemi Shinazugawa, stumbling over his own words? And why is it him who’s blushing at the moment?

These past few months made it really easy for you to actually respect the wind hashira. Not only his frightful skills when handling the sword, but just him. Him, when he’s brushing the fur of the cat that visits his estate from time to time. Him, when he tucks you into your blanket when assuming you’re already asleep. Him, when checking on you in his own unique way.

How ridiculous to even think about him like that, to even allow your heart to jump up and down in joy. But you can’t help yourself. Despite the way you despised him when the two of you first met, you really started to love this man with all your heart.

“(y/n), you’re a pretty decent women”, he begins again while drawing closer.

“Well, I…Thank you?”

A decent woman? Is that what he thinks about you?

“I still can’t believe you lied to me about being a girl, though”, he barks at you.

Oh.

You hate the way your heart drops. Were you really dumb enough so think he might have something to say, that he might tell you he has feelings for you as well? How ridiculous, how absolutely dumb.

“I think I should get going. It’s been a long day”, you mumble.

It’s probably the best to get away from here as soon as possible. But just when you start moving towards the shore, his hand grabs your arm tightly and twirls you around.

Right against his bare chest.

“Don’t you dare leaving now, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I…there’s something I wanna tell you…”

“Why are you acting like a child?”, you finally spit at him yourself.

Oh, you’re having enough of all those ups and downs. Especially today, when you’re totally drained out already. You really don’t have the nerve for him to pick on you again, not when his last statement lies like a heavy stone in your stomach-

“Acting like a child?”, he challenges you.

Just before his lips crash into yours.

Longingly, Sanemi wraps his strong arms around you, devours you against his body while all you’re able to do is holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

This…is really happening, right? This is really Sanemi, pressing his lips against yours over and over again while your naked skin brushes against his?

“You’re fucking driving me insane, brat”, he mumbles against your lips before grabbing you even tighter.

“Since the moment I realized you aren’t a boy.”

He grabs you by your waist firmly, your naked skin rubbing against his sixpack almost making you lose everything that’s left of your self-control.

“I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your hands wander around his biceps, feel the deep valleys of his muscular back. God, this feels so good – almost too good to be true. But even if this is nothing but a dream, you’ll enjoy every minor movement, every sweet moment until you open your eyes again.

But when you do, you don’t find yourself in the comforting darkness of your room. No, his eyes glimmer like molten iron when staring down at you in the moonlight, his hot breath brushing against your wet face so seductive that you threaten to lose your balance.

“Still saying I’m acting like a child, brat?”

[xazse]

Girly pop hear me out school jock scaramouche with childe’s naive sister reader 😟🤭

“DUMB VIRGINS”

Jock Scaramouche x Naive!VirginFemReader

Warnings: Nsfw, Naive!Reader, Virgin!Reader,Fem!Reader, nipplepulling, Pervert!Scara, mean!scara, not proofread, Scara is only worried about himself in this, risky sex, no condom, no foreplay: only kissing used as foreplay, cumming inside.

Notes: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, THIS REALLY HAD ME THINKING BUT THATS NOT AN EXCUSE SO I APOLOGIZE DEEPLY I HOPE UR STILL AROUND TO ENJOY IT! And also how do you guys like the new setup?

Childe had made sure everyone knew you were off limits for anything, props to Childe for being so popular. Scaramouche wonders why he wouldn’t wanna share his popularity with his little sister, well adopted sister but the way Childe describes you you’re practically his angel, even though you’re an adopted sister he still showers you with love. You’re a girl who stays to herself and should stay to herself. When Childe begins talking about you he doesn’t stop, going on for a good hour about how sweet you are, how he can never deny you of his wallet, your considerate nature, he just downright adores you.

Scaramouche has interacted with you a few times, you’re a cute shy thing, everytime he’s over Childe’s house you make an effort to say your greetings then go right back up to your room. He feels like he might just have an overblown ego but he can see the way you look at him, the way you avert your gaze when talking to him, it really is adorable.

From the little glances you steal Scara has decided he wants you, and it’s bad, so bad he finds himself wanting at night, wanting to ruin and destroy you, he wants to corrupt and fill your head with needless lies sprinkled with some truths.

So he makes an effort to always come over when Childe invites him, only invites because Childe isn’t stupid he’ll eventually catch on if Scaramouche always asks to come over, sometimes he even has to decline just to take the extra step to ensure Childe doesn’t become suspicious, it hurts his heart when he can’t see your inviting smile.

One evening when Childe does invite Scaramouche over for dinner and a movie, he obliges, thinking nothing of it because often times Childe does cook for the both of them on movie nights, but never did he expect to see you joining the two of them.

Whilst Childe is distracting himself with cooking you plop yourself only a few spots away from Scaramouche, his eyes wander over your attire, choosing to opt with a loose tank top, and some shorts, he decides then and there he’ll try something with you, it’s already evident you want him just as badly even if you haven’t verbally said it.

Both of your eyes meet for a second but he doesn’t look away this time, instead he pats the spot beside him and urges you over, you look towards the kitchen, Childe seems to be in his own world with his awful singing.

You slide over, your knee just barely brushing against his, he doesn’t deem that nearly close enough and fills in the gap of space, he’s bold when he starts to feel up the fat of your thigh, rubbing slowly and sincerely, a slight hitch in your breath eggs him on to slip his fingers In between your thighs but making sure to not overwhelm and touch you “there” immediately. The area around you both feels so warm and tense, like a thick cloud of lust slowly devouring the both of you, Scaramouche grips your cheeks and reels you in for a kiss, your first ever kiss. He’s slow at first, firmly making sure to keep his eyes on the kitchen, he presses his tongue onto yours, you clearly weren’t expecting tongue so early so an attempt to pull back is met with him holding your neck tight while he takes away your ability to breath properly.

He’s so messy with the kiss, pulling back only to force you right back in, even when drool starts to seep from the corner of your mouth he doesn’t let you go. Whines are leaving your lips in hushed intervals, out of the corner of his eye Scara can see how you’re rubbing your thighs together, trying to relieve the slight throb of your little clit, he likes this, likes seeing you so defenseless and obedient. He finally deems his bullying enough and lets you go fully.

Loud coughs fill the room, enough for Childe to step out with a worried expression and seeing Scara patting your back.

“Just a coughing fit, nothing to worry about” Scara speaks for you while rubbing the small of your back.

“Alright, you two can come eat now, just finished up plating everything.” Childe says with a beaming smile and walks back into the kitchen.

You meet scaras eyes and a big mocking sneer is on his face, he pinches your nipple hard before getting up and going to the kitchen.

Dinner is filled with Childes bolstering voice as he cracks joke after joke, with Scaramouche urging him to stop and shut up. He surprisingly ignores you the entire dinner, you know he can feel how impatient and needy you are, you give a virgin a taste of something good and they want more, even if it’s something as simple as kissing.

After dinners wrapped up and plates are cleaned, Childe insists he needs a shower, your shy eyes steal glances at Scara every so often, hinting at exactly what the two of you can do, he’s quick to give you that look back, but his is a little darker.

As soon as Childe departs it feels as though all the air is sucked from the room, you haven’t looked over properly at him once. He’s so close you can feel every breath he takes. He begins with raking his fingers up and down your shoulders, sliding up to your thin spaghetti straps, you’re expecting him to stop, to give you a moment to breathe: this is your first time after all, your head is spinning in a million directions.

He doesn’t give you a signal or anything before he’s tugging the straps down to expose your cute bralette, he deems that useless and tugs that off your shoulders as well. A gasp makes its way towards your lips and your attempt to cover yourself is met with him gripping your wrists firmly. He stares down at them for a minute, admiring just how pretty they are. He wants to take you as you are now, on display and vulnerable, while your brother is completely ignorant, but he knows he has limited time.

He knows what he’s about to do is bad, possibly risky and dangerous but he’s also not thinking very well, he just wants to be buried inside of you immediately.

Suddenly you’re being manhandled to lie on the couch, with him inbetween your legs. Letting your eyes drift you can see his cock straining against his pants. He’s lifting up your hips a little to pull your shorts around your thighs, he doesn’t want to take them all the way off just incase.

He also does the same to himself: pulling his cock out, now you really get a good look at just how big he is, more long than he is thick. His cock is a pretty tan-pink and very obviously leaking precum.

He’s also looking at your pussy, it makes him twitch a little to think about how he’ll ruin you for any other person, he’ll make sure your first time is something to remember, you’re wet from the little bit of kissing earlier, probably not as much as you should be but that’s something he can apologize for later.

He pushes your legs up towards your stomach but saving room for himself to squeeze inbetween them. He moves to stroke himself a few times, fully getting up to the expression on your face, an attempt at a brave face, he wants to wipe that right off.

He guides himself to your lips, tapping his cock against you, he teases you a little by sliding up and down between your lips again, bumping against your clit has small whimpers leaving your pretty lips.

He finds your hole, and presses against it, you’re quick to brace yourself. Him pushing hurts so bad for you but he does pause in intervals to let you breathe. Every inch is like torture for the both of you, Scaramouche finding it hard to not just shove himself deep within you, and you finding it hard to adjust to just how long he is. When he does manage to get to a good place, tears are filling your waterline, this is where he’ll stop. Poor thing, you only had a few more inches to take but he doesn’t say that out loud.

He begins fucking into you but not going past the point he had stopped, god you feel so fucking good around him, his dick twitching everytime he pushes inside your wet walls, virgins are really the best. A groan is heard from Scara, huffs as well, as he tells you just how amazing this is.

It’s starting to make you feel a little jumpy, slight electric shocks are shaking your clit, You’ve never felt like this, the pain is still there but also some pleasure can be felt.

“Shi…t..” scaras pace increases while he attempts to stay in control, you’ll be the death of him, literally. He presses your thighs loser to your shoulders successfully folding you, this lets his cock hit just a little deeper. You’re whining at this point, trying to stay quiet over Childes shower.

Your mind can only focus on him and his cock, the drag of it only deluding you more and more. He takes his fingers and rubs your clit roughly, getting a loud lewd reaction out of you. You begin tightening around him, pulling him into your heat more and more. Both of you haven’t noticed how he’s slipping in deeper an deeper, lust ridden minds only worried about cumming with each other.

His balls are slapping against your ass, this makes the room even louder minus your also loud mewling. At this point your entire pussy is feeling nothing but the urge to come, it’s so different from just rubbing your clit at night, it’s something more awful. Trying to voice on how you feel so weird to Scara is useless as all that’s spilling is moans. Soon the combined pace and clit rubbing has you pawing to get away from Scaramouche but he holds you down and fucking you meaner, and faster.

You can’t move as your body twitches on its own and your cumming all over his cock, he covers your mouth to hide your final and last yelp before your mind goes blank. The aftershocks hurt as his hips won’t stop fucking into you, his stomach hurts and tightens just like yours as he bottoms out and cums inside you.

Scaramouche taps your face a little to hear some praise about how well he did but finds that you’re fast asleep. He’s quick to situate yourself and have you looking like nothing happened, then doing the same to himself.

A few moments later Childe is out of the shower and walking to the couch.

“Aww, of course she’s the first to fall asleep” he’s quick to pat your sleeping form as light snores leave you.

[crescenthistory]

hii 🫶🏻🫶🏻!

im not sure if you've written for james potter before, but if you're up for it, could i request d5 with him? i thought like, reader is a slytherin and she fooled around with barty while she was with james. also not sure if you're okay with writing cheating, (feel free to ignore this is you're not!)

hi lovie! thank you for your request<3 i don't vibe with cheating storylines, but this inspired me to write a one-shot of james pining for reader but thinking she's with barty because they're such close friends. i hope that still scratches your itch!

Prompt: D.5 "But do you love me?" changed into "But you are in love with me?"

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, slytherin!reader (sassy/feisty), use of y/n, james pov which includes relentless pining and silly comments, genuine yearning, miscommunication, bsf!barty, slight jealousy/envy, some self-deprecation, background skittles rosekiller and dorlene

The Boy with the Glasses is Blind

James could have kicked himself.

Despite what some professors insinuate, he is usually quite bright – he just so happens to prefer dedicating his intellect to good-willed humour and pranksting rather than gruelling essays that have already been written a thousand times before. He felt he had properly demonstrated his abilities for creativity and strategy with everything he had pulled off over the years, both the pranks he took credit for and the ones they were never able to pin on him.

Yet, here he was.

Sitting in the Transfiguration class shared by most Gryffindors and Slytherins in their year, where Professor McGonnagal in some horrific – in James' previous sentiments – attempt to bridge some gaps and mend some fences, seated a Slytherin and a Gryffindor together at every table. Sitting beside you, the one Slytherin he had never seemed to fully dislike nor target with his more insidious of pranks, but a Slytherin nonetheless, and attached at the hip with one Barty Crouch Junior.

Yes, here he was, sitting beside you and staring at you with what most look like cartoonish heart eyes.

It was not something he necessarily expected to happen, at least not to this extent. You had always held his interest, a fascinating person from who you were to how you spoke and where you placed yourself in society, but it was easily brushed off in the flurry of everything else that surrounded the young boy. In here, he couldn't escape you as easily, and once he realised just what he had been depriving himself of in his avoidance of you, he couldn't escape you even when you weren't around. To him, you were everywhere.

James Fleamont Potter was falling more head over heels in love with a Slytherin with every passing minute. Sirius would have kicked him blue and yellow had he dared open his mouth and voice what was running through his mind when he admired you. Though, James supposed, some of those thoughts were perhaps best never uttered out loud to anyone.

He really couldn't help himself, he thought, it was all your fault for being so sodding angelically flawless. From the first lesson when you playfully threatened him to "behave, Potter, and not soil my education with your unruliness" with that glimmer in your eyes that felt like it must have been reserved for him from a previous life, he has had to pick his jaw up from the floor whenever your eyes meet. The way you carried yourself with a lightheartedness and crackling self-assurance, the way your hair cascaded around you as you turned to him, the way your occasionally crude words towards him were softened by your exuberant tone, as if you took as much pleasure from your back-and-forth exchanges as he did, but with none of the guffawing – a stronger man would have faltered, and James had no qualms about admitting that for you, he was rather weak.

And then there was the way you grinned with your whole body whenever you spoke to your friends and your–

And therein lies the issue.

No gem can sparkle that brightly and not be picked up and admired. To anyone with eyes, let alone ears, it was painfully clear that one Barty Crouch Junior had already snatched up his Treasure, as he called you. James was too late.

The nickname felt tacky in James' mouth as he silently felt around it, trying to figure out what it would feel like to have you as he does. It felt too cheesy, not elegant enough for someone like you, not perfect enough, though James supposes nothing quite could be. Nor was he any better himself, angels and loves had already slipped from his tongue, only to be laughed away as a quip and not a confession – and he didn't even have the right to, not the way Junior did.

You were seated beside James, he could imagine himself feeling your body heat seeping through your clothes and into his if he inched even a centimetre or two closer to you. He could hear your laughter in his ears, he captured the smile in your eyes with his own as often as he could, but even here, within his direct vicinity, he saw the effect Barty had on you. How the two of you seemed to be able to communicate with limited words, mostly through glances and silly facial expressions from where he sat a few rows ahead, fully twisted in his chair to get a good look at you.

James couldn't blame him. It was how he wanted to turn around and stare at you whenever you were near him as well. That maniacal grin on Junior's lips was something James wanted to resent, but also wondered if he would be wearing himself, if he was allowed to brandish it on you.

Unlike Junior, though, he couldn't. James is not a jealous man, he felt he owed his father not to be, but there were few words to describe the sensation building in his throat other than envy. And, perhaps most painfully, a yearning so significant it ached its way through his bones until he was left pliable and broken.

"You with me, Potter?"

James' smile smacked right back onto his lips, albeit slightly more forced than normal as he forced his eyes away – from what he hoped seemed like Junior's general direction and not him specifically – to lock onto yours. There was a quizzical expression on your face and mirth playing over your lips, your soft, beautiful lips.

"Yeah," James made out hoarsely, clearing his throat. "Early mornin' s'all."

The mirth stretched out into a wide, teasing grin on your face, and although James was certain it was at his expense, it melted his own smile into a more genuine one. "Uh-huh. What's made you so tired? You're usually caffeine incarnated first thing in the morning."

"Are you saying you're missing my usual self, love?" Easy, easy, keep it easy.

"I'm saying you're suspicious," you replied with a gleam in your eyes. "Although, you always are. Perhaps it would be suspicious if you weren't behaving suspiciously."

James laughed a bit too loudly at that, warmth spreading in his stomach. "Don't go philosophical on me, L/N."

"I won't, if you don't go boring on me. Transfiguration's enough of a chore as it is."

Pride bloomed out of the spot envy inhabited in James' throat. Somehow he felt just as guilty for both of them, and was just as unable to suppress it as it flowed into his bloodstream.

"Well, when I know you're missin' me so, I can't very well let my best girl down, can I?"

"What a presumptuous young man," you say, words becoming a whisper as McGonnagal walks in to begin her lecture. Despite your smug smile as you said so, James couldn't help but feel slightly rattled at you pointing out the truth to him.

He righted himself in his seat and attempted to dedicate his attention to the Head of Gryffindor, which, unfortunately, he had never been good at even before his entire mind, body and soul seemed to be possessed by the stunner sitting beside him in class. His eyes kept darting over to you, smiling at your facial expressions, even more so when you occasionally caught his gaze with a smile of your own. A strand of hair fell out of your hairstyle as you cocked your head to look at him. James couldn't decide whether he wanted it to stay messy or if he wanted to be the one to tuck it back in for you. His hands remained drumming on the desk.

He attempted to focus up on the lecture, but poor Minnie's voice simply became droning to him when his nose was filled with the smell of you, making him slightly lightheaded. And Merlin, the way you were biting your lip while you took notes – it was an actual miracle he hadn’t melted into a puddle on the classroom floor by now.

Then, his attention was abruptly captured by a small piece of parchment whirring right past his face to force itself into your hand on the desk. You were shaking, smiling over the lip you were still biting as you opened it.

James – in a totally cool non-creepy fashion, of course – tried to get a good luck at the note, but couldn't without giving it away. What he definitely could tell, though, was how Junior was snickering at you over his shoulder like a hyena. Not the borderline scary snicker James had been victim of before, but a fond one, like you were sharing a secret together just the two of you.

Unable to watch more of your reaction, James looked back onto the desk, willing himself away.

You were never one to allow him reprieve, giving him a discreet poke with your wand. When he looked up, your head was in your hand and you were leaning your head sideways to look at him. “Daydreaming again, Potter?” you whispered.

His cheeks burned. “Not a chance,” he responded a bit too quickly, causing you to smile in delight as you leaned closer to him. His heart gave a particularly hard thud at that.

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been staring at my notes for a few minutes, and last I checked, you don’t even take notes. So it's clearly no ruse to copy me.”

“I take notes!" James tried to retort, but when you levelled him with a stare he just smiled indulgently at you instead. "Occasionally."

"Yeah, you're a total swot, babe," you laughed quietly, shooting McGonnagal a quick glance to make sure you're still being discreet.

He knows you're messing with him, he knows it's just colloquialism, but he would have paid embarrassing amounts for you to call him that again.

"Very well might be, you're quite contagious, angel." The slight snort that escaped you at that probably made his day.

“Uh-huh,” you said softly, for the second time that lesson. “Whatever you say, Gryffindor.”

By the grace of Godric, McGonagall dismissed class before James combusted like he thought he would. He exhaled in relief, but it was short-lived as his nerves shot up as you began to pack your stuff, knowing he won't see you again until dinner. Not that he had memorised your schedule, or anything.

He opened his mouth, hoping to think of something clever and smooth to keep your attention for even a second longer, when your usual company approached your shared desk. He heard Junior's laugh before he saw him, eyes still trained on you, and when he turned Barty, Dorcas and Evan had formed some circle around you, chattering away with a casualness he rarely witnessed up close.

“Tomorrow’s going to be incredible,” Dorcas exclaimed almost-giddily, pulling her scarf up around her neck. “I can't wait to let off some steam finally."

“Oh, I'm sure you will, Cas,” you replied teasingly, pointing a finger at her teasingly. "Asked a certain blonde to join you yet?"

"How about you mind your business, Missy?" She shot back trying to shove your face away, but you dodged, using James' arm as a shield. He felt like a mannequin the way he stood beside you, almost dumbly, frozen by the exchange.

Evan just snickered. “Good luck prying Barty away from the game section, he's still pissy about last time."

"You mean when he gambled away all–" Dorcas was shut up with a quick silencio from Barty, which she quickly fought through and stuck her tongue out at him for.

"Hearsay and goss, I tell you!" Barty declared, shoving Evan aside to come stand beside you, arm circling around your waist. "I almost didn't go this year, I'm only joining because Treasure here practically threatened me to."

"Yeah, how dare you even consider leaving me to the wolves," you retorted to him at the same time as Dorcas murmurs something about "yeah, didn't wanna go because you lost so bad".

"Nah, we can't have that," Barty agreed with you while shooting Dorcas a glare, and then he – to James' utter pain and heartbreak – pressed a kiss to the top of your head while squeezing your hip.

Nevermind that it was a quick kiss, nevermind that you laughed at him. James just saw lips against skin.

Now that Junior was basically cuddling you standing up (James wanted no corrections calling this description an exaggeration), James had gravitated further away from you. He may have lost his mind with this whole lovesickness, but he respected you, your choices and your space. With the way you were throwing your head back laughing with your friends about some plans James didn't even know about, he knew he was not wanted nor needed here.

Pulling his bag closer towards his body, he gave a quick nod to no one in particular and turned around, headed towards the door.

"James, wait up!"

Your voice cut through his mind's ramblings, as it always does, and your use of his first name brought flowers to his vision once more. He turned around, hoping to look mostly casual but he's sure his face was an open book. His eyes zeroed in on you walking towards him, leaving your group of friends and Junior behind, but he heard a telltale laughter and he hoped it wasn't at how stupidly in love he looked with someone he could never have.

James blinked at you in confusion as you stopped before him, but you just wore the simplest smile on your face.

“Want to take a walk with me?” you asked, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

There was mirth in your gaze when you repeated your question. "We both have a free period now, I usually spend it in our common room. But I'm asking if you want to take a walk with me instead?"

James had to physically restrain himself from replying "I know" when you disclosed your habit, while also wondering how and why you came to know his schedule.

He managed to sputter out a response. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He couldn’t quite stop the grin from spreading across his face, and he felt a bit like an overeager puppy, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you looked rather pleased, which only made his heart race faster.

"Enthusiasm gets you everywhere, Potter," you responded calmly, falling into step with him as you led him out of the classroom, leading him down the less-frequented hallways. The road less travelled by.

The two of you strolled down the corridor, side by side, with the chilly autumn breeze filtering through an open window. James wanted to say something witty, something that would make you laugh, but he was mostly in his head, confused about everything that transpired the past few minutes.

"What's that about the fair?" He decided that was safe territory, though he feared having you recount all your plans with Junior there.

"Oh, you have no idea," you started excitedly. James pretended it didn’t cut a bit that he had no idea. "It's this annual fair that Pandora – you know, Rosier – discovered back in fourth. It's got the weirdest, coolest booths and games you'll ever see, with performances from unique professionals. It usually changes every year, last time it was a fire manipulator and a necromancer."

Upon James' quirked brow at you finding fire and necromancy the coolest, you continued. "Come on, you Marauders would have loved it. There's prank ideas and props to last you for months. And there's great food as well."

"Okay, okay," James laughed as he maintained eye contact with you. "I believe you, sounds fun. I hope you guys enjoy it."

If James wasn't as bright as he was, he might have mistook the flash of emotion across your face as a small bout of uncertainty or insecurity.

"Actually, that's something I wanted to ask you about," you started, trailing off as you stopped by one of the larger windows in the hallway, leaning against the windowsill. He followed your example, attention wholly on you. "We have this tradition, my friends and I, that we use the fair as an opportunity to challenge ourselves in some way, do something that... I guess something that scares us."

James just nodded, keeping his attention on you as his heart beats in his chest. Your smile turned a bit rueful.

"That's actually what I was messing with Cas about earlier," you continued. "She's finally asking your friend Marlene out on a date, to go with her to the fair."

That's what you wanted to talk about? James admired you almost more for how dedicated you were to your friends.

"I can tell you without a doubt that Marls would say yes," he reassured you with a smile. "Those two have been a work in progress for ages."

"For so long, it's been physically painful to witness," you laughed. That sound is anything but painful to witness.

James hummed in response, laughter rumbling through his chest as he continued to take you in, scanning your face.

"What are you doing that scares you?" he asked before he could stop himself.

You took a deep breath, chin up in that almost defiant way as you held his gaze. "I'm actually following in Dorcas' footsteps... or I guess perhaps beating her to it, seeing as she hasn't yet."

James blinked at you, clueless as to what you're leading up to.

"I wondered if you wanted to go with me to the fair?"

He felt as if he had been slapped in the face and like he was coming up for air after a long snog. He didn't really know what he felt, just that it was a lot, too much, even for him.

"I'd love to," he blurted out with a breath, words scrambling together. Then, his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to understand your sentence. "I mean– with me, are you sure? Aren't you going with, erm, with Junior?"

You gave him a puzzled look, cocking your head at him as if he had said something entirely irrelevant. "What do you mean?"

James looked sheepish and couldn’t quite meet your gaze over the sound of his own heart breaking. "I mean, it would be really nice to go with you to the fair, anywhere really, but wouldn't Junior mind?"

"Barty–" You cut yourself off, still looking confused. "Barty's the one who's been encouraging me to ask you out, actually. What are you on about?"

"Why?" was all James could breathe out, world unravelling in a way that made his stomach twist with painful hope.

"Um, because I like you? And unless I have suddenly lost all my interpretation skills, I am quite certain you've been fond of me for quite some time too, Potter."

"I am, but– wait– you are? What?" James guffawed. His intense confusion irritated his skin apparently because he had a sudden urge to scratch the back of his neck, his upper arms and pretty much any other piece of flesh. Maybe the embarrassment could be peeled off that way.

Despite it all, you laughed heartily and, what James was beginning to realise, bemusedly maybe even adoringly at his failure to speak. It seemed like you had pieced together everything he couldn't.

"Yeah, I like you, you sod. Think I just flirt with everyone?"

An "I hope not" lies on the tip of his tongue, but instead he shook his head in admonishment.

"Snake's got your tongue, babe?" you asked him, taking a taunting step closer.

"Looks like it," James mumbled, eyes zeroed in on your face as heat rose to his own. Growing bolder in your declaration, he continued, "I suppose I'm just confused. I always thought you were with Junior? That you two were... in love."

The last words brought a grimace to his lips, like it pained him to say. As if on instinct, your hand shot forward to wipe beneath his bottom lip to coax the frown off his face. His lips parted in shock and suspense at your touch and when you seemed to realise what you had done, you pulled your hand back quickly. You had the decency to look slightly flustered after that, allowing him some semblance of a more even playing field.

"No, James," you whispered with a smile as you shook your head. "Barty is my best friend and I love him with my whole heart. But I never have, and never will be in love with him. Him and Evan have been an item for, like, ages."

Finally, a brilliant smile – one you would later describe to him "shone like the sun" to which he attacked you with kisses because "that's so sodding cute of you to say, you sappy romantic" – took over his face.

Without thinking, he stepped closer to you, hand coming up to brush carefully against your cheek as you looked wide-eyed at his positivity and adoration now radiating off of him. "But you're in love with me?" he whispered with rapture, up to speed at last.

It took you a moment before you chuckled lightly, sheepishly looking down at your feet before once more meeting his piercing gaze.

"How about we start with that date, and see where it goes from there, huh pretty boy?"

So, yes, James most certainly could have and probably should have kicked himself – but right now, he found that he had other business he would much rather attend to.

[sarawritestories]

Come Here, Sweetheart

Cassian X Fem Reader

CASSIAN WEEK DAY 7

Summary: You are suffering from burn out and having a meltdown. The General of the Night Court's Armies ensures you give him your best smile.

Content Warning: Feelings of burnout and worthlessness, anxiety and mental health decline as a whole. Exhaustion tears and Cassian being one hell of a mail. Not proofread.

@cassianappreciationweek

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

A/N I am so heartbroken that I couldn't bring much to Cassian week but I've been in a slump and a lot is happening in my life (Good things but stressful) but I wanted to provide something.

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

You rubbed furiously at your chest. That familiar feeling that you were once able to tuck deep in the confines of your mind had reached a boiling point. The tightness in your chest constricted your ability to breathe properly. You barely made it to your bedroom when you collapsed to your knees.

The pressure of getting words on the page were becoming too much, Nesta's badgering of getting the next installment of your novel along with the constant fan mail asking for updates on the release made the feelings of inadequacy fester into a monster you couldn't ignore and definitely couldn't slay on your own.

You felt like you were failing your readers, though every time you sat with a blank page and fresh ink the words refused to come. As though they were mocking you as if to say you didn't deserve the success you had received.

Your mate who normally quieted the evil voices that would seep into your mind had been called away on a mission and so the cruel worlds morphed from a small dark spot into your mind into maelstrom of feelings worthlessness and as though you should give up your dreams all together.

Wrapped so deep in your thoughts, you barely registered the warmth of your tears running down your cheeks or the door of the bathroom opening revealing Cassian emerging. His gaze caught your crumpled form and he tried tugging on the bond only to find you had blocked him out.

Cassian in nothing but his sleep pants, his hair damp from bathing, and his wings tucked in tightly approached you. "Sweetheart," He whispered as he lowered to his knees giving you the distance to gauge the situation but close enough that his fingertips grazed the top of your hands that held your skirts in a vice grip.

You were a captive to your mind, the overwhelming anxiety gripping onto you tightly you couldn't even reach out to your mate. The words swirling trying to ingrain their lies.

You are not worthy.

You are pathetic.

You are talentless.

Give Up.

Cassian didn't need the bond to see what was occurring that the brilliant mind he adored so much was rendering you into a state of darkness. "Come Here, Sweetheart." Before you were able to register what was happening you were in his arms, the scent of Sandalwood and the lingering leather eased your breathing slightly.

He placed you on your feet and began to undress you. It was when he had you bare did he speak, "Shower, or bed?" His voice held no judgement only love and tenderness for you. Cassian's hands stroked your arms and the action alone caused the darkness to recede in your mind and you were able to come to the present.

"Bed." you whispered, voice dry from the crying.

Cassian kissed your shoulder, "Of course." He held out his hand and your favorite silk night dress appeared thanks to the House of Wind. "Arms up, My Love." You did as he asked and he got you dressed for bed. The cool material lowering the temperature of your overheated skin. Cassian gripped your head, "Come on, let's get you to bed."

You simply nodded your head as your mate led you to your side of the bed. Making sure as you began to get comfortable in bed that he was still touching you. He knew you needed his touch more than anything right now and went as far as crawling across you to his side of the bed to not break the contact. Once he adjusted his wings into a comfortable position he pulled you close to his chest. Your head pressed against his chest the steady beat of his heart, like a beacon of light blasted the dark thoughts and your breathing became easier as the voices quieted.

"We don't have to talk about it tonight." He whispered, his lips pressing against his forehead. "We will be talking about this in the morning along with planning a holiday away for a while."

Your lip trembled as he stroked your face with his thumb., "I love you. Thank you." Your eyes met his warm hazel ones, and you gave him a smile.

He returned your smile, "There's my girl." He placed his lips to yours pulling away lazily. "I love you, Sweetheart. Let's get some rest."

In a matter of seconds your eyes had fluttered shut and lulled by the heartbeat of your mate.

Cassian: General of the Night Court's Armies, The Lord of Bloodshed, but for you? He was your Knight in Shining Armor.

Always there to make sure the darkness never consumes you.

Your Hero.

General Tag: @milswrites @lady-of-tearshed @tsunami-of-tears @readychilledwine @ceoofyearning

@velariscalling @daycourtofficial @prythianpages @writingcroissant @itsswritten

@illyrianbitch @acotarxreader @pit-and-the-pen @nocasdatsgay @labyrinth-of-stories-and-stars

@ninthcircleofprythian @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @lilah-asteria

@kylaisra @nickishadow139 @aelincaddel @nighttimemoonlover @demirunner

@marvelbros-oneshots

[sugarushwriting]

bad idea right? frat boy sunghoon, #3

part 1, part 2

“i only see him as a friend, biggest lie i ever said.”

hehe, here’s the dirty part. pure smut to the best of my ability. enjoy 🤍

not proofread. please share, reblog, like, comment all of it! pls do not repost or translate. ty!!!

wrote 97% while at work on break in 30 minutes.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

“too bad peach, means you’re not getting fucked properly.”

your eyes widened and you stood frozen in your spot. towel tightly wrapped against your naked body, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

“uh—i, huh?”

“aww did i make you speechless?” sunghoon chuckled.

you nodded. you literally were speechless.

“didn’t you just say you weren’t trying to woo me into bed?”

“all i did was state a fact, peach. if you aren’t sore after sex, then the men you pick aren’t doing it correctly.”

you scoffed, “and what, every girl you’ve had sex with has been sore or trouble walking afterwards?”

sunghoon smirked, “yes, peach.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“then ask them yourselves for proof. i am sure some have pictures of my handprints and marks i’ve left.”

oh. “oh, uh—,”

“or my bite marks.”

you started to feel hot. everywhere.

“sunghoon—,”

“yes?” sunghoon was giving you lustful eyes, and continued to have a smirk etched on his lips.

“you—you can’t just say things like that!”

“you started it.” sunghoon shot back.

“huh? when did i ever bring up sex with you first?” you crossed your arms over your towel covered chest.

“that night you high jacked my bed. and i quote, you said, ‘would you have sex with me if i asked? or kiss me? would you even hug a girl like me?’” sunghoon had said back to you what you said that night you were drunk.

“i don’t remember that.”

“probably because you were drunk out of your mind and sad.”

“then it doesn’t count!”

“drunk words are sober thoughts, peach.”

you opened your mouth to shoot off a reply but sunghoon cut you off, ���do you want to know my answer?”

“what?” you asked confused.

“after you asked me these questions you didn’t even give me time to reply. you answered for me and said that i wouldn’t. but do you want to know the truth?”

you swallowed. did you? did you want to know the truth? you did, so you nodded slowly.

“yes peach. yes i would have sex with a girl like you. yes i would kiss a girl like you. yes i would hug a girl like you.” sunghoon listed.

all during his answers, he walked closer to you, you not even moving, now you both stood toe to toe.

you could feel his breath, that’s how close you were standing. it seemed his breathing had picked up, so had yours due to the intensity of the conversation.

“actually peach,” his tone change a little darker.

you heartbeat quickened in anticipation of what he was gonna say next.

“i wouldn’t just have sex with you. i am going to fuck you.”

going to? was that a threat or promise?

it was both.

you squeaked before sunghoon’s lips attached to yours in a heated and hot kiss, his tongue immediately seeking permission to find yours.

you let his tongue meet yours, and felt his teeth bite your bottom lip.

sunghoon’s hands went to grab underneath your ass, to lift you up to where he was holding you, your legs wrapped around his waist. not once did the heavy make out session stop.

you both moaned into each other’s mouths, it seemed you two weren’t getting enough of each other as you pressed your body closer to his as possible.

sunghoon had walked you both to his room, and gently placed you on his bed.

he slowly removed his lips from yours, you whining at the loss, you unconsciously following his lips.

you sat in the bed in the towel, sunghoon leaning over you by having his arms on either side of you as he leaned down so his face was in front of yours.

he had a drunken smile on his face. licking his lips, his eyes flickered down to your towel and back up to meet your hungry eyes.

“you may not get on your knees for anyone peach, but you will get on your knees for me.”

you whimpered and grew wet at his words.

“get on your knees.” sunghoon all but growled in a deep tone.

you obeyed. you, without even thinking slipped off the bed, your eyes glued to sunghoon’s, and rested on your knees.

sunghoon had a proud smile. his hand came to cradle your cheek. “my good peach.” his thumb traced your bottom lip before he forced that thumb into your mouth and on your tongue.

reaching down with his free hand, he undid the towel so it slumped to around your lower half, revealing your naked body.

he removed his thumb, and both hands got busy to his belt and pants. first the belt came off, but he didn’t toss it. instead, he gripped it in one hand. then he continued on to unbutton his pants.

“unzip and pull them down.” he ordered.

your hands slowly did as he said. your hands went to pull his boxers down but he tsked.

“eager are we?” he chuckled. “did i say to pull down my boxers?”

you shook your head.

“words, peach.”

“no.” you pouted.

“on the bed all fours.” sunghoon stated and took off the remainder of his pants as you got up onto the bed and got into the position he wanted.

from behind, sunghoon took off his boxers and shirt as well.

sunghoon pushed your upper body into the bed, your cheek smushed against the comforter. from the corner of your eye you could see sunghoon was naked in all his glory.

and you saw what hung between his legs.

you snapped your eyes shut. holy fucking shit.

you had no time to think as sunghoon’s belt came to snap against your ass.

you screamed in both pain and pleasure, mixed with a loud moan.

you’ve never had this done to you in bed. why? why have you never done this? you got wet just from the slap, and even wetter at the thought of him using it again.

sunghoon’s lips met your ass cheek for a soft kiss then used his palm to soothe.

“i would use more peach, but i know your butt hurts from your falls on the ice.”

you felt a hint of teasing in his tone.

his body covered your backside, his lips meeting the nape of your neck.

“i will take my time with you, and admire your body. but first, i’m fucking you.”

sunghoon grabbed both your wrists to bring them to behind your back, using his belt to tie them together. your chest and right cheek were pushed into the bed.

his right hand held your hands that were tied together. “you yell red if you need me to stop peach.”

you nodded, and heard sunghoon shuffling through the table beside his bed. in no time, the condom was on, and his index and middle finger rubbed circles on your clit.

“while i please you, i want you to be vocal about it peach. i don’t care if the boys here you. i want to hear you.”

sunghoon wasted no time pushing his dick inside your slick cunt, your walls gripping him with ease.

“oh fuck.” sunghoon groaned under his breath, as you let out a moan.

just as you thought he was done, he kept pushing, until you swore you felt the tip of him hit your cervix. that’s how deep he felt.

you were sure you could possibly see a bulge in your stomach if positioned just right.

sunghoon’s hips snapped back before the ruthless thrust began.

“fuck, sunghoon!” you screamed.

he was right. you weren’t getting fucked properly. whoever you slept with beforehand was always too gentle. left you unsatisfied.

sunghoon was about to satisfy you in many ways in just under a minute.

“peach,” sunghoon moaned out breathlessly, “you feel so good.” he swallowed, trying to find words. “just right for me. fuck why haven’t i done this sooner? why haven’t i tried to get your attention before this?”

his hips snapped against yours, sounds of skin on skin, groans and moans only to be heard.

“hear that peach? that sound? it’s your cunt. all wet for me. all wet and taking me in.”

if sunghoon kept up with the dirty words, you surely were going to come sooner than you wanted.

you wanted to feel him inside you longer. maybe forever.

his hand kept a grip on your wrist, pulling you up a bit, where your body hovered over the bed.

“look at how your ass ripples from my fucking. so good.”

“so good, sunghoon.” you moaned out.

sunghoon forced your body to lie flat on the bed as he kept fucking you at a ruthless pace.

oh his tip was hitting the right spot. your cunt seem to moan for itself, you were so wet, it was squelching.

“listen to your pussy talking to me, peach.” sunghoon moaned out in a deep tone.

yep you were done for.

your walls squeezed him tighter. “oh sunghoon.”

“your pussy is clenching for me. begging for me. fuck, i should’ve fucked this pussy raw. to fill you up with my come.”

your thighs tightened. “sunghoon, i—i’m gonna come.”

“let go for me peach. come around my cock.”

with a loud grunt and moan, you came around sunghoon, you forcing your ass back to have him as deep as possible. sunghoon came right after you, riding out both your orgasms.

you buried your head in the pillow as you literally began to cry at how much pleasure you felt.

sunghoon pulled out, untied your wrists, threw the condom away, and rolled you over to your back.

his head came to nestle in the crook of your neck, as he left soft kisses against the length of your neck before he found a spot he liked, and began to suck.

you bit your bottom lip, now being conscious of your volume for some reason. his teeth, specifically his sharp vampire-like teeth, nipped and nibbled on your skin.

your legs went to wrap around his waist again. his bare tip rubbing against your aching and over sensitive clit.

“playing with fire, peach.” sunghoon laughed against your skin.

you smiled in a daze, wrapping your hands around his neck. you overcame with confidence, kissed his cheek, then lifted his face to above yours and pulled him into a heated kiss.

“mhm, what was that for?” he smiled after he ended the kiss.

you bypassed the question. “why do you call me peach?”

sunghoon smiled, hand twirling a piece of your hair before tucking it behind your ear.

“because one, you are like princess peach.”

“i look nothing like her.”

“i’m talking about always happy and excited. i don’t know just something.”

“oh.”

“also whenever someone says or calls you a peach, it means you’re a good person, and pleasing. you’re just, peachy. peaches are also juicy.”

sunghoon smiled and gripped your ass and you squealed in surprise with a laugh. sunghoon laughed with you and gave you a quick peck.

he rubbed circles on your hip, then pinched it. “mhm, i want you again already. not finished with you.”

you smirked. “gonna keep your promise or was it a threat?”

sunghoon sighed. “which one?”

you started to play with the hair on the nape of his neck. “fucking me so good that i’m sore. and fucking me raw.”

“oh peach, those were both promises. be careful what you wish for.”

sunghoon rutted his dick inside you, bare.

“mhmm,” you moaned against his lips. he used his tongue and licked your neck up to your chin, up to your lips.

“pussy still so wet for me.” sunghoon gripped each of your thighs that were wrapped around his waist, as he sat up. dick still buried in you.

your hands reached up above your head.

“want me to fill you up, peach?”

“yes please.” you moaned.

sunghoon, while still buried in you, kissed down your neck, to your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth, giving it a quick lick before biting down softly.

your back arched, your hair tugging on sunghoon’s strands.

he hovered his lips over yours once again. “don’t know if i want my dick or tongue in your pussy.”

you literally flexed your walls around him at the thought of his tongue, sunghoon smiled, pulling out.

“tongue it is, peach.”

wasting no time, sunghoon got to his knees, face hovering over your lower half. his tongue licked between your folds before diving right in. literally.

you’ve never been ate out so good. literally he just started.

he licked, sucked, nibbled, spat, and even used his heavingly fingers.

two of them. then three.

your walls began to tighten up as he used his free hand’s thumb to put pressure on your clit.

just as you were there, he stopped, removing his tongue and fingers, just to as quickly replace it with his dick once again.

“mhmm.” you moaned softly, gripping his back.

sunghoon—let’s say, never fucks a girl in missionary. he prefers doggy or reverse cowgirl. you’re the second girl he’s done missionary with.

(his first being an official girlfriend a few years ago).

he enjoyed the look of pure pleasure on your face knowing he was the reason for it. the way you squeezed your eyes tightly when your pussy clenched for him, the way you tried to contain your volume by biting on your lower lip, but failing.

he loved the way you dug your nails into his back, as he dug his into the flesh of your thighs. he was making sure to leave his mark.

in addition to the 2 marks he left on your neck.

at first, he only wanted to fuck you to get back at karina for the way she treated you. but then, he genuinely just wanted to fuck you.

he enjoyed his time on the ice with you, the way you made him smile and laugh when you fell or how cute and happy you got when you skated for more than 2 minutes without falling.

his peach.

he was making sure to mark you up so you’d remember him. you’d remember the way he made you feel.

“i’m close again sunghoon.” you moaned.

sunghoon leaned down to attach his lips to yours, heavy make out session, while his thrusts became sloppy, more skin on skin noises, your wetness leaking on to the bed, down your thigh, and covering sunghoon’s lower stomach and upper thighs.

his fingers dug deeper into your skin, your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, trapping him.

thank goodness you couldn’t get pregnant.

“peach—i have to pull out.” sunghoon groaned.

you shook your head. “in—in me, hoon.” you moaned pulling his body closer to yours.

the thought of accidentally impregnating you should scare him.

but it didn’t.

it only made him want to come in you more.

“fuck peach, you are just for me.” he whispered against your lips, as you came around him, and he followed soon after coming deep in you.

he held you down as he kept his dick buried in you as deep as possible. “mhmm peach, gotta make sure my come doesn’t drip out of you.”

he loved that you milked him dry.

you both, breathing heavy, stayed in that position for a while. sweaty bodies, sunghoon on top of you, dick still in you (slowly softening), your cunt still clenching around him.

breathing heavily in each others mouths, you kissed here and there, with tongue and without.

sunghoon put his head against your collarbone, and slowly pulled out, making sure you didn’t waste a drop.

he rolled over on the bed to his back, as you laid there unable to move.

suddenly exhaustion washed over you.

sex with someone never did that to you. pleasing yourself never did that.

how did sunghoon, of all people, make you exhausted like that?

without much thought, your eyes began to close and sleep took over.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you awoke in a soft bed, your body dressed in nothing but a tee shirt and covered in sheets and covers.

opening your eyes slowly, you adjusted your vision as best as you could. next to you, sunghoon laid on his back, eyes closed, chest moving up and down, as he softly snored and slept.

you couldn’t help but stare and realize how attractive he was. you finally noticed just how attractive park sunghoon is.

no wonder karina and other girls fell to his feet.

your eyes widened.

karina! fuck! what kind of friend were you? wait, were you two even still friends? wait who cares?

you did.

you swallowed. sometimes you really did hate being a good person with a good heart.

you reached over to cradle sunghoon’s cheek, causing his eyes and lashes to flutter.

he yawned with a stretch opening his eyes. you didn’t take your hand of his cheek.

he smiled when he looked over at you.

“did i fuck you good peach?”

you giggled. “yes you did, hoon.”

with a smile he leaned over and kissed your nose. “mhm, love that nickname for me.”

fuck karina and fuck her feelings.

[nonbinary-potatoes]

Prompt: Change 19/10/24 @rosekillermicrofic

Word count: 811

(Was feeling super motivated to write today, but it's not proofread)

Barty would never understand why Evan and Regulus liked the library so much. It was too quiet most of the time, and the room temperature was always too warm for a jumper but too cold not to have one. Still, Barty sat in his seat and doodled mindlessly onto parchment because he'd rather be bored out of his mind in the company of his boyfriend and best friend than bored out of his mind by himself At least there was something to do here, and being alone was always a recipe for trouble when it came to Barty.

"Nice drawing, Bug," Evan muttered softly, looking up from his notes briefly and smiling at the sketch Barty had been half-heartedly working on. There were some basic anatomy sketches, based on the pictures in the book Regulus was working on - some bullshit about healer school prep. But it was fun to draw, and the pictures were pretty cool, especially the ones from autopsy results. Barty smiled, writing an I and a U on either side of an anatomical heart and sliding the parchment towards Evan who took it, folded it, and tucked it safely into his breast pocket on his shirt. "I heart you too," he mumbled before returning to his notes.

"Heyyyyy Junior," an annoying voice drawled out, some blonde girl strutting over the table the three were working at. She batted her eyelashes and smirked, clearly wanting something. Barty recognised her as some hookup from a while ago, Chloe, maybe? Some C name.

"Yeah?" Barty squinted at her suspiciously. She leant over the table the buttons on her blouse undone at the top, showing off far too much cleavage for a casual interaction. She pouted before running a tongue over her teeth and speaking in a disgustingly sweet voice.

"A little birdy told me that you're not seeing any girls at the moment... so I safely assume you're on the pull..." she drawled her words in a particularly annoying way, Barty was coping by imagining using her as a specimen for an autopsy. At least this conversation had given him some insight on a possible future career option.

"Me, you. Hogsmeade tomorrow, get me a drink, and we can come back to my dorm afterwards." She was straight to the point; credit where credit was due. Evan wrinkled his nose but stayed occupied on his notes. A shame, really. Barty would've liked to see him shut her down.

"Sorry, dollface got plans. Can't change em" Barty shrugged her off, encouraging her to quiet while she was ahead. Unfortunately it was rather unbelievable that Barty wasn't actively hunting down someone to sleep with, he wasn't exactly known for his celibacy in the same way he wasn't known for his ability to maintain a longterm relationship. He had since realised that he just didn't get that spark for women. There was never any romance... no desire to make it last the same way there was with Evan.

She reached foreward, walking her fingers up Barty's chest and pushing his chin up to look at her face. It was a rather disgusting plea for attention, attention Barty wasn't going to give her.

"Yeh bitch, we have fucking plans" Evan grumbled quietly, clearly not too please with the attention she was giving Barty but he wasn't often the type to cause a scene unlike Barty who didn't mind putting people in their place. She glanced at Evan and raised an eyebrow. "Who invited you to my conversation? You swot." She scrunched her nose up. She looked a lot like an ugly hare. Somehow, the way she spoke to Evan made her look even uglier.

"Don't talk to him like that," Barty snarled, swatting her hand from his face. He had no shame in punching her if the need arose. Luckily for her, she seemed to get the idea that Barty didn't want her unsolicited touching.

She frowned, suddenly looking much less friendly. Kissing her teeth, she stood up and buttoned her blouse back up properly. "Fucking enjoy your date with your bros" she muttered, gesturing to Evan and Regulus and glancing between them like they were offensive. She leaned close again to whisper "I don't get why you're cockblocking yourself Crouch" spitting the words out bitterly, she gestured widely to herself "what's not to want?"

"The clap," Regulus says before chuckling to himself and going back to his book, clearly proud of the comeback. The girl looked even more offended now, much to Barty's amusement.

"I'll enjoy my date with my boyfriend... and then after that, I'll very much enjoy-" Barty was cut off by Evans hand clasped over his mouth, giving Barty that stern look that easily made him shut up and not even consider talking. He smiled with his eyes and waggled his fingers as the girl stormed off, looking half disgusted and half disappointed.

[cqwnii]

warnings : reader has an asthma attack ! referred to in 2nd person, might be ooc + not proofread

genre : x reader, fluff + (angst?), mini story + headcanon format.

P.1 : Ashlyn, Logan, Aiden

☆ 》 ben clark 《 ☆

the group has been running from these phantoms for too long now, you can feel your legs giving up, your chest tightening and your breathing getting shallower, you quickly grab your inhaler, "fuck.." you mumble as you find out your inhaler is empty, your lungs feel like their on fire and your sweating profusely. "guys, my inhaler.." was all you choked out before your body gave up on you, falling to your knees trying to breathe

☆ Ben panicked, adrenaline rushing through his body as he quickly picked you up and carried you right inside the graveyard, you guys were trying to do a quick mission to ashs house (before you had the jeep.) but it didn't go according to plan.

☆ you weakly sat on one of the many seats in the schoolbus, the others checking around the base to see if there was any refills for your inhaler as ben was by your side, making sure you stayed conscious and weren't about to pass out from your asthma attack.

☆ unfortunately that was your last inhaler refill, and you were extremely pale and sweating as if you were in the vegas during the hottest week there.

☆ ben typed out on his phone, making sure to instruct you through your asthma attack to the best of his ability. "concentrate on your breathing y/n." the robotic TTS voice spoke, ben didn't know if you could see properly, so he used to TTS option so you could hear the instructions.

☆ the others were worriedly around you, but making sure to give you breathing space, as they were all concerned about your increase in asthma attacks you've been getting since savannah.

☆ as your asthma attack subsided, ben typed out on his phone to make sure you feel better. "how are you feeling y/n, can you breathe?" you nod as she mumble that you feel better and can actually breathe without struggling.

☆》 Tyler hernandez 《☆

the group has found themselves in a predicament, you can feel your legs giving up, your chest tightening and your breathing getting shallower, you quickly grab your inhaler, "fuck sakes.." you mumble as you realize your inhaler is in your motel room. your lungs feel like their on fire and your sweating profusely. "Wait.. guys I-.." was all you could get out before you fell straight to the ground, the phantom right behind you.

☆ Tyler easily recognized your weak voice, turning around quickly to pull you up before the phantom got to you. it was strange on how this is almost the same thing they found in the sorrel house. tyler pulled you close to him right before ashlyn slammed the phantom with the janitor cart.

☆ tyler brought you into the other motel room. as the other two looked out to see ash, aiden and ben, Tyler patted you down to see if you had your inhaler, but to no avail you didnt. he sat you down and made sure to instruct you on your breathing.

☆ "take deep breaths okay y/n?" Tyler spoke, he carefully held you as the other three came into the motel room, they were a little confused on why you collapsed but were a little more shocked by tyler comforting you.

☆ tyler glared at the others before looking back at you and keeping you awake and making sure your breathing stabilizes sooner than later. he was definitely worried and the others haven't seen him this concerned since they met him, besides taylor of course.

☆ although you didn't have your inhaler, this asthma attack as a mild one and it ended in only a couple minutes with the help of Tylers quick thinking, cause in all honesty you might've forgotten the steps to calm down your attack from the anxiety caused by the phantoms.

☆ "y/n are you okay..?" tyler worriedly spoke as he pulled you close to him, once you confirmed you're alright he hugged you tightly, muttering a few words you couldn't really understand. "just rest okay..? we'll figure out whatever the hells going on." he spoke as you nodded, he let you laid down on his lap as you eventually fell asleep.

☆ 》 Taylor hernandez 《☆

the group has been running from these phantoms for too long now, you can feel your legs giving up, your chest tightening and your breathing getting shallower, you quickly grab your inhaler, "the hell...?" you mumble as you find out the medication canister is gone. your lungs feel like their on fire and your sweating profusely. "tay, I can't breathe..." you weakly spoke right before collapsing to the ground, struggling to catch your breath.

☆ Taylors heart stopped. first she watched her brother fall off a cliff, now she couldn’t bare to see her lover die to the hands of a phantom. She immediately turned around and pulled you out of the way of the phantom.

☆ thankfully ash heard the phantom behind you, and was quick to swing into action. the phantom only managed to give you a little scratch, but thankfully that's all the phantom managed to do.

☆ taylor pulled you inside the gas station, sitting you upright against one of the shelves and making sure you stay conscious. She noticed the empty inhaler mouthpiece and checked her pockets to see if she had a canister refill for you, only to find out she doesn't have one.

☆ " y/n.. just focus on breathing.. Ty-.. ash check if they have any inhaler canisters.." Taylor spoke, she held you close to her and continued to make sure your breathing is getting stabilized. The others were concerned as there was on 7 minutes till they shift back, worried since you never had an asthma attack during a shift, which could harm you.

☆ ashlyn found your dose and quickly passed it to taylor who put it in your inhaler; making sure it worked before pulling it to your lips and assisting you with using it, one dose.. two doses.. and now they need to wait.

☆ after a few minutes your asthma attack subsided and resolved. Taylor held you close and muttered sweet nothings as a few tears ran down her face, a few choked sobs slipping from her lips. "I was so worried about you y/n.." she spoke before planting a kiss on your cheek.

—————————–———————————––——

A/N : yippie guys ^^ i kinda didn't know what to write for this part, but i figured out some ideas. though they might he repetitive and such 😓

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.3 K Warnings: The angst is still angsting Prompt: Vixen feels like she needs to run away but, Where to? How? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it Proofread by Lovely @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 54: Sail Away Sweet Sister

Sail away sweet sister Sail across the sea I know you'll find somebody To love you as much as me

Your heart drummed in your ears as you ran upstairs. Taking the suitcase you’d brought and quickly filling it up with some of the clothes you’d left scattered around. Your coat was downstairs, so you took one of Remus’ fluffiest sweaters and put that on top of one of yours. 

Whatever you did, you couldn’t stay, because then you might run to Sirius’ arms and tell him all you said was a lie, that you loved him –because you did– and that you dreaded the idea of not being with him, which was also true. Your stomach was so twisted you had to swallow your will to puke at least once as you put whatever you found inside your suitcase. 

What the hell have I done? you wondered, as you remembered what you’d said to Sirius, as you remembered using something like charmspeak on Remus. No, it wasn’t like it, it had been it. You had seen your mother use it before, she had told you how it felt to use it, and your grandma had talked about the terrible thing it was, as powerful and disarming as imperius. And then you had gone and used it on your best friend. On the person that you’d left your boyfriend for, no matter how you saw it, you were awful. 

Even if you hadn’t meant to do it, even if you didn’t even know you could. You had manipulated –forced– him into leaving you crying on the stairwell and going with Sirius instead. He hadn’t had a say in it, he just mindlessly followed your stupid instructions. It made you feel even worse about the entire situation. You were still crying, hands trembling as you forced shut your suitcase and held it with one hand. You had pulled out Nina’s wand. You had never used it, and you didn’t want to do it either, but you weren’t about to leave the house without any means of producing magic, so you had carefully taken it out of the back drawer and stared at it for a second before shoving it in your shirt and finishing your task.

You looked around, the wonderful and lovely place you had been staying at and almost felt sorry for yourself. But you knew Remus and Sirius had to be alone with each other if they would sort things out and therefore you had to leave. 

But where to? 

You couldn’t go back to your house, you couldn’t go back to Remus’ house, and you couldn’t go back to the school without sending a note first. You took a deep breath. A place where you could do magic if necessary without being detected by the ministry, a place where you could get a new wand, a place where you could get the stuff you needed for school. Diagon. 

You had just stood up from the bed when you heard a faint knock on the door. 

Remus was completely disoriented by the time he reached the kitchen. Sirius was curled up on the floor, his head hidden in between his knees and quietly sobbing. Remus turned back to look at the stairs, but you were not there anymore. He swallowed, he wasn’t sure why he’d left, but he suspected what it might have been. You had always been charming, but you had never charmed anyone. Not like that, but it would make sense that you had such an ability, especially after being in close contact with fae things, not only the fruit his mother had given you but also the fae pool.

Either way, he didn’t even have time to process it properly, he was torn, should he stay with Sirius or should he run behind you? There was no easy choice, there was no right choice. He hesitated on the door for a second, and it was Sirius’ quiet sob that had him kneel down next to his friend. He’d talk to Sirius and then the two would talk to you, simple. He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

Sirius raised his head, hopeful, “Vi–” he started, and then he noticed who was on the other side. “Moony,” he breathed.

Sirius could tell he was worried, Moony looked at him with such a heavy look of concern, his brows almost touching from how deep his frown was. And yet he looked beautiful. Sirius felt horrible, how could he look at Moony and think of how incredible he was when you had just broken up with him for that same reason?!

“What happened?” Remus asked, kneeling down next to Sirius and shutting the door with a simple wave of his hand so no one would walk into the kitchen. He moved one of Sirius’ curls behind his ear to look at his face better. His beautiful eyes were red-rimmed, and his long lashes stuck to one another from the tears he’d shed. 

Sirius sobbed, he didn’t even know where to start. “I think…” he stammered, chest tight at the mere thought of it. “She broke up with me.” 

“What?!” Remus asked in disbelief. If there was something he was sure of, it was how much you loved each other. He was also feeling incredibly high levels of despair and anguish now. He was not expecting your break-up to be so harrowing for him. After all, if you were both single then that would mean he had a chance with at least one of you. 

But he didn’t care about chances, he didn’t care about being with either of you if you couldn’t be with each other. He had seen the pain in your eyes, he had seen the hurt in Sirius’, there was no way you had done it willingly.

“Maybe it’s a prank, an awful prank but a prank. Maybe someone’s forced her to–” 

“No,” Sirius mewled. “It was me, I fucked up.” His voice broke near the end of his sentence and he covered his face with his hands. “I ruined everything!” 

Remus’ gaze softened as he sat next to Sirius and started playing with his hair in the same reassuring way he had seen you do plenty of times, which just made Sirius’ sobbing increase. He loved and he hated that he did. Remus frowned, “Sirius–” 

“I fell in love with someone else,” Sirius admitted in a whisper. 

Remus’ hand stopped moving entirely. The sorrow and pain he felt for Sirius had turned into shock. With someone else? Something bubbled up inside him, he felt his muscles tense and his gaze harden. If Sirius had fallen for someone and you had found out about it, then he had broken your heart. Your already feeble fucking heart. Remus wasn’t sad anymore, he was furious. There was a growing hostility inside of him, because Sirius had fallen for someone else and in the process he had hurt you. He’d seen the tears streaming down your cheeks, he’d seen your red and puffy eyes, you had cried and it had been Sirius, of all people, the one that caused it. 

“And you told her?” Remus reproached, voice a little louder, judging. “You know what she went through in Christmas you–” 

“Of course, I didn’t fucking tell her!” Sirius retorted, borderline angry, he’d never been good at keeping his temper. “She figured it out, she’s always been clever like that.” 

“How could you?” Again, it was that judging gaze, Remus was frowning and leaning away from Sirius.  

Sirius noticed and huffed, “It wasn’t just me. We weren’t exactly subtle about it.” 

“You and who, Sirius?” Remus asked, he could barely hold back the expression of disgust. He loved Sirius but hurting you was crossing the line. “You cheated on her?” 

“Of course not! You and me!” Sirius responded, pointing at the two.

Remus froze again. Anger dissipated into confusion, his breath caught in his throat as Sirius’ stunning grey eyes fixated on his. “What…” Remus stuttered, mouth trembling as he thought of the words he needed to say next “What do you mean you and me?” 

Sirius huffed again and bit his lip before speaking, “She seems to be under the impression that you like me, Remus.” 

“That’s–” Remus’ breath was heavy, he was struggling to think properly, his head was all over the place. What did all of it mean? “Even if I did, she shouldn’t have broken up with you just because of that!” 

Sirius let out a pained sort of laugh, “She figured I–” he was cut off by his own sharp intake of breath, he exhaled, “She figured I liked you back.” 

Remus was barely processing the words that came out of Sirius’ mouth. His best friend, his everlasting crush, had just admitted how much he liked him and rather than feeling happy about it, he was feeling sorrow for you. 

“You’re an idiot!” 

“I know,” Sirius said simply. 

“How could you fall for someone else when you had her?” 

Oh– Hadn’t he done the same? Granted he’d never dated either of you, but he had fallen for both. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius sobbed. “I didn’t even know I liked men until–” he averted his gaze, eyes trickling with tears as he tried to speak again. “She taught me it was possible to like both.” 

“And you fell in love with a man shortly after,” Remus reproached. He might have been the man, but it didn’t make it any better for you. 

“She said she didn’t love me anymore, she said she stopped loving me the minute she figured I liked you.” 

“I doubt that’s true,” Remus said honestly. He’d seen the way you looked at each other, he’d seen the love in both of your eyes. 

“It’s bullshit, I could tell!” 

“And why didn’t you go after her?” 

“You don’t understand,” Sirius said. “She’s stupid self-righteous. She’s not going to come back, not as long as she knows about us.” 

“There is nothing between us!” 

Sirius turned to him, his eyes still red and teary, but looking at Remus with a sort of accepting gaze, he let out a long breath. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if that were true.” 

He looked beautiful, even when his world was crumbling apart and had enough tears streaming down his face to fill oceans. It was ridiculous how much Remus could hate what he had done, and yet love him just the same. How could he hate him for hurting you, when Sirius had done it by doing the one thing he had hoped of him for years? 

Remus was hesitant as he leaned onto him, his hand heavy as he placed it on Sirius’ cheek, he wiped one of his tears and Sirius closed his eyes, basking in the calm and warmth that Remus’ touch brought. It had always been calming in some sort of way, but it had never been as soothing as that day. Remus leaned close to Sirius, close enough to feel his breath fan his face, he was about to kiss him, that kiss he’d longed for ages, but he stopped and pulled back. 

“We go, and we talk to her,” he said as he stood up, and pulled Sirius along with him. 

“What?” Sirius said confused, trying to wipe the tears with his hands, making his face grow redder with how harsh he was being. 

Remus was tempted to pull Sirius’ hands from his face but decided that maintaining a decent distance between the two would be better. “We tell her she’s wrong. We tell her I don’t like you, however the hell she might have gotten that idea. And you tell her you were confused and we’ve talked and–” 

“She won’t buy it.” 

“Sirius.” 

“You wouldn’t buy it if I told you I didn’t like her, Remus!” 

The former was taken aback, Sirius’ words meant a lot more than they let on: he liked both of them in equal amounts. But Remus was too distracted to listen to it, his breath short as he kept racking his brain for a solution, anything to have the both of you smiling again. 

“I barely know how she didn’t notice earlier, for fucks sake, I’ve drawn you none stop lately, I’ve been wearing your clothes as much as she does, we fucking sleep together every other night–” 

“That’s for Moony…” 

“Is it, though? Is it really for Moony? After the moon? After he accepted Vixen?” 

The three of you knew it wasn’t for Moony anymore, but neither would have dared to say it, Sirius might have been the only one brave enough. 

“There must be a way. We need to talk to her Sirius… we– I’ll step out of the way,” tears pricked in Remus’ eyes. It was hard to accept what had happened, he sighed. “I’m the one that got in between.” 

Sirius looked at Remus with a sort of understanding that only two people in the same situation could have for each other. “I’m as much to blame as you are.” 

There was a moment of silence, nothing other than each other’s breath was heard, the gentle and yet ragged way in which their breathing synchronised would have been romantic if they weren’t both close to falling apart. 

“We’ll show her then.” 

“What?” 

“We don’t try anything, I go back to Alice or whomever and when she realises I’m not interested then she’ll come back to you, guilt-free and–” 

“Remus,” Sirius interrupted. “For how long?” 

“How long what?” 

“How long have you liked me?” 

Remus’ gaze hardened. There was no easy answer. “It wouldn’t matter if I had a longer claim than she does–” 

“Longer than we dated?” 

Remus hesitated, looking anywhere but at Sirius until he had enough strength to turn back. Those piercing grey eyes, he couldn't lie to them anymore. “Probably since before you met her,” he admitted. “I didn’t know what it was until we kissed.” 

“Ugh, I’m so blind!” Sirius complained as he hid his face between his hands again. He remembered that kiss, it had been a wonderful kiss. Of course, he didn’t even think how gay that was until now. He turned to Remus again. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“You were dating any girl that winked at you, Sirius. I thought you were the straightest person I knew. I mean I would have thrown my money on James being queer before I threw it on you! Either way, it doesn’t matter, I didn’t say anything and I still wouldn’t have said anything, I’d never want to come in between. I’m sure I’ll get over it and–” 

“If you didn’t get over it for 2 years, Remus…” 

“Well, I don’t care! Sirius, she’s barely holding herself together after Christmas, you’ve seen her!” 

“I’m the worst boyfriend in the world,” Sirius sighed. 

“We should talk to her,” Remus said, “We have to go talk to her now!” 

“And say what, exactly?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t care, but we lock ourselves in a room and we don’t leave until we’ve talked this through. The three of us.” 

Sirius was hesitant, he wasn’t sure Remus’ solution would work. He didn’t see a way in which you could just talk it through. He had fallen in love with someone else, he had broken your heart, and he didn’t think there were enough words in the world to fix it. Not when you still loved him and had decided to move out of the way, for Remus and for him. 

Not when you thought, with such fallacious certainty that the only way in which either Remus and Sirius would be happy, was with each other and away from you. Sirius gulped and turned to Remus with a meek, almost begrudging nod. 

Remus handed Sirius a napkin and he was quick to wipe the track of his tears with it. 

“It’s obvious I’ve been crying,” he swallowed. “If anybody sees us…”

“Stand next to me,” Remus said before casting a Disillusionment Charm over his friend. Sirius hesitated before he leaned closer to Remus, he hated how good it felt to be able to stand this close to him, he hated that he kept thinking of how well Remus smelled and how incredible he was at handling these kinds of situations. The absolute reverence he felt for him was so akin to love that he felt he was betraying you, even while he was desperate to fix things, to hug you and pray for forgiveness until his throat was sore and you promised you’d take him back.

The two of them walked side by side, shoulders brushing against each other constantly, Sirius wasn’t sure if Remus was standing so close to him on purpose, if that was how it went with men. Sirius had never dated a man before, he had no idea what such relationships entailed, and he had no idea if Remus stood so close to him because of that or if it was because of how concerned he was. Knowing Remus, it might have been the latter. 

And it was, Remus was standing close to Sirius to remind himself that this was real. That it wasn’t a dream, that Sirius liked him back and that it was about the worst possible time for him to figure it out. But he was also there because he wanted to be there for Sirius, he wasn’t sure he’d seen him cry like that since he got kicked out of his house, and he hadn’t even been there, but rather it had been James the one that sent him a letter with the details of the situation before he took the Floo to the Potters. Perhaps the one time he had seen Sirius as upset as he was today, was after the incident with Severus, but back then, Remus had been so angry at him that he had done almost the exact same thing that you’d done to Sirius earlier. 

He had left him crying, alone. This time around, he hadn’t been the wronged one, but he had been on the wrong-doing side. And no matter how guilty he felt for it, how guilty the two of them felt for falling in love, there was still a magnetism that pulled them together like the wind called on the waves and like the stars called in the sky. 

This time around, Remus was determined to be a supportive friend, not only for Sirius but for you as well. It didn’t matter if he had to bear seeing the two of you together again, in fact, after seeing both of your reactions to what had happened, he wasn’t sure there was anything he wanted more. Or… perhaps deep down, a greedy part of him did. A selfish part of him could see one outcome that would make him the happiest man alive, but of course that was a dream. So unrealistic and ridiculous that he wouldn’t even dare speak it aloud. 

It would make him sound too selfish, too greedy, like the men who wanted to have it all and at the end of the story, ended with nothing, as atonement for asking too much of the world. Icarus, Midas, Macbeth, Dorian Grey; all their stories, their lives, they all ended despondently. 

Remus had always been coolheaded, and though he liked to think he was realistic, he often veered towards pessimism, and there was nothing more pessimistic going through the exact same thought process you had gone through. To step out of the way to make the other two happy. 

Sirius was still standing close to Remus, almost behind him, when Remus leaned over the door and knocked on the door. There was no answer, he knocked again, a little louder this time, and then placed his hand on the doorknob. The door creaked open, and they both looked inside. The bed was messy, your clothes were gone, and they had left along with you.

The knock on the door had been none other than Effie. She’d found you crying with Nina’s wand in your hand. You tried to wipe the tears away when she walked in, but it had been too late, she’d seen them, and she’d seen your luggage. 

She frowned and approached you slowly. “Darling, are you okay?” 

You swallowed, your breathing was hard, and your face was slightly scrunched up as you shook your head in response. She crossed the room in an instant and wrapped you in her arms. She was taller than you, and she held your face to her collarbone as she brushed her hand over your head. It was such a kind and motherly gesture, that you couldn’t help but shed tears again. 

It’s not that you would have gone straight to your mother in a situation like this, but it was the fact that you couldn’t, even if you wanted to, that had upset you even further. She was kind and soft, she was gentle as she brushed her hand over your hair and made a soft, shooing sound for you, almost like the ocean. 

“I–” you floundered, “need to leave.” 

She pulled back to look at you, she had a similar expression of concern as the one Remus had given you. “Darling, you can stay for as long as you want–”  

“No,” you interrupted, voice soft but determined. “I have to, Effie. Please.” 

She took a deep breath and licked her lips before focusing her face on you, “Why?”

“It’s complicated.” 

“You’re not leaving until you tell me.” 

You took a deep breath, your gaze cast downwards before you uttered the strength to say your next words, “I broke Sirius’ heart.” It was the truth, and you felt your own heart shatter with the realisation. It’s for the best, you thought. I must do it, for them. 

Effie looked at you, first confused and then, almost reproachingly. As if you hurting Sirius –her son– had changed the entire idea she had of you. But she had also seen the way you looked at Sirius and therefore, was more confused than angry. 

“What?” 

“Please, Effie. You said you’d help,” your voice was slow, broken. “I can’t see him again, not now. Not until we’ve both processed–” 

“You should talk instead.” 

“No,” you said again, just as determined as last time. “I can’t talk, or I will make it worse, so much worse. I’ve already made it bad enough. I’ll owe you one.” 

Effie bit her lip, “Where will you go?” 

“Diagon.” 

“You have anyone there?” 

“A friend of my mother,” you lied. She squinted her eyes at you, as if she didn’t quite believe you. But you had already lied that day, you had already told Sirius the biggest lie of your life and therefore, these smaller ones came out as simply and naturally as flying did to you. 

“We’re not close, but I’m sure he’ll take me, at least until school starts.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’ll write to you when I’m there.” 

Effie took a deep breath, a strong, wise part of her told her that she had to force you to stay, to talk to Sirius and to fix things, rather than run away. But she wasn’t sure you would, even if you stayed. Not with everything that had happened to you, not with everything that you’d gone through. She shook her head as if reproaching herself for the decision she’d made and then looked at you. “Okay.” 

You held back a sob, “Thank you.” 

She placed her hand behind your back and pulled you outside of the room. You heard a set of steps climbing up the stairwell on the right, but Effie was quick enough to walk the two of you inside a room, shutting the door shortly after. You heard the soft murmuring of Sirius and Remus as they knocked on the door of the other room, and you turned to Effie urgently.

She had taken you into her study. She had a lard chimney behind her desk. 

“If you don’t write, I’ll find you,” she said, it was something between a threat and a promise.

“Don’t tell them where I am.”

“I won’t,” she reassured as she handed you the bag with Floo powder. 

You took some in your hand and threw it on the chimney. The flames turned green and grew as you said “Diagon.”

You were about to step into the fire when she stopped you, she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t run away.” 

You froze. You had been running, from your pain and from your problems and if you stopped they’d caught up with you and then you weren’t sure you’d be able to cope, you’d fall apart. You turned to her, there were tears in your eyes. “Thank you, Effie. I’ll owe you one for the rest of our lives.” 

She stared at you sadly. She had seen how distressed you were, she had felt it too. Emotions so strong they were perceived even by others, she had heard of that kind of magic, but she had never experienced it, not with sadness and sorrow, at least. 

“Is she here?” Sirius asked, voice on edge as he hastily opened the door. Remus stood behind him, equally pale.

“Who, darling?” Effie asked as if she didn’t know exactly what Sirius had meant.

The flames spit you out into the middle of Diagon, there was still light. You wiped the tears from your eyes and walked straight towards the one place you knew you’d be able to stay at: The Leaky Cauldron. There were a few witches and wizards sitting on the different tables, most of them looking worse for wear. There was a man with a very large bird in the corner. It wasn’t an owl, or an eagle, or anything you had seen on magical creatures and where to find them, but the bird cawed at the man until he threw him a piece of his steak. 

There was an old lady reading tarot to a man in one of the corners and she turned to you with a sinister smile, “5 sickles and I’ll tell you your destiny, pretty girl.”  

“Thank you, mam. But I don’t do readings.” 

“You don’t believe in the power of the cards?” 

“I have seen the power of them,” you admitted in a serious tone. 

She pulled your hand to hers with a sharp movement. Her grip was hard, and even as you tried to pull back she held you in place. 

“Do you want the good or the bad news?” She asked as she tilted her head to you.

“I said I don’t want any news,” you responded sharply. You didn’t like random strangers manhandling you, no matter how old and feeble-looking they might be. You considered taking out your wand but the last thing you wanted was to call more attention to yourself. Not to mention, you didn’t have a wand, and you had never tried to use Nina’s. You tried to pull your hand again and she tutted. 

“I’ll give you a free reading, just because of how upset you seem.” 

“I don’t–” 

“You’ll find love soon.” 

You scoffed, laughing at her words in a mocking-like, bitter manner, if you hadn’t done that, perhaps you would have cried.

“A lot of love, it seems to me here that two boys–” 

“Stop!” you interrupted angrily. “I said I didn’t want readings. And you’re absolutely terrible at it anyway. Find love? Yeah, sure,” you scoffed. “There are higher chances for me to find a terrible, uncalled-for dеath, than there are for me to find love again. Now, please,” it did not sound like a request, “give me my hand back.” 

She let go of your hand as she cocked her head to the side with a curious gaze. “You seem lost child, I can help you find yourself.” 

“I know exactly where I am, thank you,” you said as you pulled your hand away from her sharply. You were sure one of her nails had scratched you by the stinging sensation in your hand. You were quick to turn around and walk towards the back counter of the pub where they had a small sign that claimed they had available rooms. 

The woman shook her head as she saw you leave and turned to the friend next to her. “You saw it too, right?” 

The man in front of her nodded. “She’ll have a surprise when she figures it out.” 

“Poor thing, so bitter and yet so young,” responded the witch.

“She might be having a bad day,” said the man with a shrug as he pulled another card from the deck and placed it on the table. 

You rolled your eyes and quickened your pace towards the counter. Once you reached, a tall, slightly imposing man gave you an impassive look. “I’d like a room.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Old enough to rent a room,” you responded. “I’ll stay here for the rest of the week and pay in advance.” 

The man scoffed and nodded, handing you a key when you handed him enough Galleons to cover for your stay and then some. “Madam Rim will show you to your room,” he said and nodded towards a small woman sleeping in a chair in the corner. 

You approached her carefully and said her name a couple of times before she trembled and turned to you with an angry gaze. The man on the counter snickered when you jumped at her angry look. One of her eyes was completely black, and you weren’t sure if she could actually see you with it. Then when she closed it, it was like that of a reptile. 

“Why have you awoken me, child?” Her breath was foul, and you tried to keep the disgust you felt away from your face so as not to piss her off further. 

“I was told you’d bring me to my room.” 

She rolled her eyes, or well, her one eye, and then turned to you again, “Number?” 

“Thirteen,” you said after checking your keys.

“What a terrible omen,” she responded as she stood up, you would have sworn you heard her bones creak as she did. Her back was hunched from age and she looked like the kind of woman muggles would call a witch. In fact, you might have seen her on the cover of one of those children’s books at the Muggle Library. 

“Now, that,” you remarked. “Is a prediction that I’d believe in.” 

She turned to you with a confused and judging sort of gaze and then motioned for you to follow behind her. She guided you through a long set of stairs and then to a corridor, she stopped in front of a door and motioned towards it. “Your room.” 

“Thank you,” you said with a nod and placed the key on the lock.  You turned but the door wouldn’t budge. She was almost at the end of the hall when you called. “Madam Rim, I think I got the wrong key.” 

She shook her head, “Just push a bit more, it gets stuck often.” 

You sighed but did what told, twisting the door and pushing again. Nothing happened. Madam Rim had already left, and you were stuck outside of your room. You left the suitcase you’d been carrying on the floor and attempted to push again but it didn’t work either. 

You groaned, exasperated and tried once more, this time leaning all of your weight on your shoulder, but the door opened before you even touched it and you stumbled inside the room, your head would have hit the bed pole if you hadn’t used your hand to stop your fall. “Fuck.” 

“Ah,” you complained, looking at your hand. You tried to move it but it hurt, which had you wince in pain as you walked out of the room, grabbed the suitcase, and then walked back inside, closing the door with unnecessary force. It was like the fucking universe was trying to play a joke on you, the door had bounced back and you’d barely had enough time to get out of the way before getting hit. 

“Stupid fucking door,” you mumbled as you shut it again, this time being more gentle and pushing it slowly into the frame. When it finally shut, you sighed and walked back to the bed. You’d left the suitcase over the sheets, and that’s when you spotted the keychain Effie had given you. You looked at it and whispered “Green.” Suddenly the sand inside the small hourglass changed into green. Effie would know you were alright with that.

The room was old and worn, but it didn’t look dirty. You let yourself fall on the bedsheets and winced when your hand touched the mattress. You pulled your hand up, looking at it and trying to move it while you frowned. It hurt, it hurt like a bitch, and you still couldn’t compare it to how much more it had hurt to leave Sirius. 

I’m going to need a potion for this, you thought as you pushed the suitcase off the bed and accommodated yourself. It might have gotten a dent but frankly, you didn’t care. You let your hand fall again and groaned when it hurt just the same as before. There was a big window that allowed the waning afternoon light inside. You didn’t want to think, so you pulled Nina’s wand and pointed towards them. Surely you could perform a simple spell with it…

Instead, the chair next to the window flew towards you and smashed onto the bed pole. You sat on the bed and looked at the shreds with shock, instantly leaving Nina’s wand on the side, so fast it was as if it had burned you. You threw yourself back in the bed and sighed.

“I will also need another wand,” you said as you stared at the intricate details of the bed’s canopy. You stayed like that, thinking– or rather, just staring mindlessly at the squares and circles, and at the shadows cast by the low light that still came from the window. You must have dozed at some point, since the next thing you knew, it was dark. The shadows had grown so much that they were enveloping you almost entirely. You sighed, the temperature had diminished severely. 

For all you cared, you would have fallen asleep and gotten swallowed by the cold. But you had almost frozen to dеath a little while ago and something told you that it would be a terrible idea not to, at least, turn on the fire to warm the room. You had felt what freezing was like, the violent shivering that left you sore and aching the following day, you were not eager to feel like that again. 

The boys slept without any heating most of the time, and it didn’t bother you at all since you had always had them to warm you through the night. But today you’d be alone, and you’d be alone until you got back to school, so catching a cold for being too careless and indolent to turn on the fire was not an option. 

You considered taking Nina’s wand and using that to light up the fireplace, but you remembered what had happened with the chair, the shreds of it still all over the floor, and you decided you didn’t want to risk burning the entire place down. The last thing you needed was people realising you were in two places with a fire –in which you would have actually been the cause of both– and deeming you an arsonist. 

You sighed before leaning up, and wincing when you realised your hand had not gotten much better during the snooze you’d had. When you finally got up the bed you realised you had a bit of a runny nose –probably from the cold– and sniffed before getting to the bathroom and blowing your nose quickly. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a second. You looked terribly doleful, unhappy. You washed your teeth before walking back into the room and sitting on the wooden floor next to the fireplace. 

They had some kind of warming charm on them since they didn’t feel nearly as cold as they should have and then you spent at least a quarter of an hour trying to turn the fire on with wandless magic. You had never tried Incendio wandlessly before, and it had been bIoody hard. When eventually you did manage to get the flame going, you threw some old newspaper to liven it up, sighed and leaned in a little closer. 

It’s not nearly as warm as they are, you thought bitterly. But they might be warming each other now, as they should be. You didn’t want to be away from the warmth of the flames, so rather than moving back to the bed, you stayed crouched next to them and dug your head inside the jumper. It was Remus’ but Sirius had pinched it and it smelled so much like him, like the two of them, that you started to cry.

Thick hot tears streamed down your cheeks and dampened the sinfully soft fabric of the jumper. Your lips were dry and tasted like salt, and you cried, and cried, over everything that had happened so far. This time you knew there would be no one to bother you, that nobody would find you crying and that no one would ask if you were alright. In a way, you were glad that you didn’t have to hold back your tears anymore. No more fear of being found crying, of being thought of as weak, even if every tear you shed was more than justified. 

But there was still that selfish part of you that dared to wish you weren’t alone, that dared hope that you hadn’t left, that you had continued pretending you didn’t know and that you were cuddling with Sirius and Remus, rather than sitting by yourself in the middle of a small inn. 

Eventually, in your reluctance to move away from the flames, you decided to sleep there, and you turned into Vixen, but you took off Remus’ jumper off first and once you were a fox, you used your snout to find the bottom hem and slip inside of it, limping a little as you did. It was warm, and it smelled delightful. If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you weren’t in a lonely inn, but rather curled up in one of James’ soft beds, right on top of Remus’ chest, and with Padfoot’s snout pushing you as he too tried to get some chest space to rest his head on.

Perhaps once the boys sorted what they had to sort out, you could go back to cuddling them, maybe you could use the next full moon as an excuse. Once they were settled into their own relationship, and once things with Sirius went back to normal –or as normal as they could possibly be after what had happened.

When you woke up, it was because of a small, knocking on the glass. You were not on the first floor, so you shook your head, stirring inside Remus’ sweater before limping outside of it and peering at the room. The fire had almost gone out, but you were still warm, and the thing you’d heard on the window was nothing other than Reese, tapping his beak against the glass.

You turned back into yourself and stretched as you walked towards the window, unlocking the small hook at the top and pushing it open for Reese to come inside, your hand hurt as you did, so you had to manoeuvre it with only one of them. “Hey little one,” you said softly, you then realised he had something tied to his feet. 

You hesitated before untying and unrolling the small piece of parchment. 

He was flying frantically while looking for you today, he thought you’d abandoned him. Where the hell did you go off to, Vix? I know it has to do with Sirius, he looked upset, and he was whispering about with Remus all night too.  He might be my brother but if he did something to you, I’ll punch him for it. Mum told everyone you were feeling sick and that that was the reason you left early. Sirius and Remus seemed confused at it, but they don’t know Mum like I do, I knew she knew something. I went straight to her and asked her. She said it wasn’t her place to tell me what had happened and that I should ask you myself.  Problem was, I obviously had no fucking idea where you’d gone to. She didn’t want to tell me, but I can be very convincing you know that already. Don’t worry, I haven’t told Sirius and Remus, if they don’t tell me what’s going on, well then I won’t tell them the information I’ve gathered by myself. I assumed Reese would be able to find you, wherever in Diagon you had gone off to and decided to send my little note through him.  I know you’ve been upset lately. You should come back, I can send Sirius away with Remus if you want, I think it’s a bad idea for you to be alone now. Especially with everything that’s going on, but at the end of the day, it's your choice. You better fucking write me every day though, I’m worried sick. You are also like a sister to me. You know that, right? Anyway, I expect to hear from you today, or I might just go to Diagon and drag you back myself, don’t test my patience. Love, Prongs

Sirius and Remus were whispering about all night, that was good, that was great, it meant they were talking. It meant they would be together and then, once Sirius forgot about his infatuation with you ��as if he could ever– he and Remus could be happy and you’d be able to talk to them both again, and things would be all right. 

You really did believe that to be a possibility, or at least you were desperate to believe in it, you couldn’t see the alternatives, let alone the answer that the entire world had been screaming at you. In the whispers of the mermaids kissing each other, in the loud teasing voices of the ghosts, in the eyes of the old hag that read you your destiny but that you were too obdurate to actually listen to. You looked through the drawers of the old room and found some parchment and a quill. You quickly scribbled something for Prongs. You had to write with your non-writing hand and the letters came askew, but you couldn’t exactly use a spell to fix them, so you tried your best to at least make it readable. 

I’m all right. Don’t worry about me. Sirius did nothing, it was me. I’m sorry if I ruined our trip, I was having lots of fun but it had to be done. I’ll send you notes every day, but it can’t be through Reese, or they’ll figure it out. 

You bit your lip thinking of a solution to the problem when you remembered the keychain that Effie had given you. Protean charm, you thought. That was the answer. But there was no way in hell you managed to perform a charm of the sort without your wand, let alone with Nina’s wand that seemed to refuse to work with you, so you’d have to buy something.

I have a plan, I’ll get us a way of communicating by the end of the night. I’ll send Reese to your rooftop, he’ll hide behind the chimney.  Thank you for caring, Prongs. I also think of you as a brother.  Love, Vix

You wrapped the small note on Reese’s feet, cursing as a jolt of pain hit your entire arm for forcing your wrist and sent him off, promising to get him something to eat by the time you came back with a new wand and something to charm.

Sail away sweet sister My heart is always with you No matter what you do I'll always be in love with you

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader  @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow  @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @simpkingollie @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @mothraantics @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld @pastelorangeskies @barking4you @profoundpidgeon

Leave a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

A/N: I questioned myself for making them suffer so much while revising this chapter. Some of Sirius' words are just heart wrenching to me, I swear <3

Read more Marauders Fiction

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Bluebird — Azriel x Reader — Part VIII

Hey! Sorry for the wait on this one, it’s a big one and took me longer than I anticipated! I haven’t had the chance to properly proofread so sorry for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy all the same 💕

Summary: Forced to go on the road with her father, Reader gets a rude awakening that starts to play on her mind. But Azriel’s not willing to let go so easily.

Click here to be added to the Bluebird taglist! Please remember to check your settings and make sure you can be tagged! 💕

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: Pretty gruesome descriptions of violence and injury. Masturbation. Nsfw, 18+, minors dni!

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The curtains were drawn.

To superior fae sight, nothing lay behind them besides darkness. Not even the flickering of a candle.

Azriel waited. And waited, and waited. His eyes did not once stray from the window, and hope burned fierce in him that those curtains would suddenly part, that a beautiful human face would appear that made his heart race and his skin feel too taut on his bones.

The fabric didn’t even twitch.

He knew, after a couple of hours, that he would not be seeing his Bluebird tonight. He tried not to feel too disappointed as he flew back towards the wall, the comfort of the fae realm. Such was the nature of their…relationship. It was clandestine and risky, and sometimes things would come up. Sometimes, one or both of them would be unavailable.

But as he stripped off his leathers and fell into his huge bed, he couldn’t tear his thoughts from her. Thoughts of where she was, what she was doing, what had rendered her unavailable to meet — whether she was safe.

Too many thoughts like that would do him no good. Would only worsen this…this alien sensation, of needing her with him all the time. Needing to have her in sight. Needing to have her at all.

He could only pray to the Mother that the next week pedalled on fast.

That he’d see his Bluebird soon.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It had been the most uncomfortable day of your life.

A monotonous day on horseback, one landscape blurring into another. The village you were travelling to seemed like worlds away — and the journey was only made worse by the sticky summer heat, and the fact that you rode with Devin, slotted between the tight press of his muscled thighs.

Still, you were unflinching in your resolve that while you may not have been able to wriggle out of sharing a horse with him, you weren’t going to talk to him, no matter how much he tried to ply you with conversation.

It was his fault you had to come on this trip in the first damn place.

You tried your hardest to while away the time by sinking into your thoughts. It seemed that with each hour that passed, those thoughts became more vibrant, more longing. Thoughts of you, Azriel, a wildflower meadow. The ability to just…be in each other’s arms.

The ability to kiss him. Touch him.

Those thoughts didn’t help at all. It was an effort to keep them at bay, lest you make the ride even more uncomfortable.

But eventually — thankfully — you and your father’s group had arrived in the target village, just as the sun had been setting. News of your father’s cause had spread wide enough that it seemed his presence was expected. And very much welcomed.

You’d been ushered into the village tavern and supplied with more food and drinks than any of you needed. The feast kept you occupied while your father was absent awhile, apparently visiting a few villagers he was familiar with. And when he’d returned, it was there, that evening, nestled at the very back of the old, crumbling building, that you’d watched your his passionate presentation.

You’d heard the words spoken numerous times, of course. To his friends, and to anyone at the Bluebird Inn who would listen. But this was more than just a speech. This was an entire damn performance.

And it surprised you, how uncomfortable it made you to watch.

For all your father was quiet, brooding, sometimes soft-spoken, he commanded the tavern with a voice louder than you’d ever heard come out of him. His cheeks had grown ruddier as his own words riled him up. Spittle accompanied the angered, venomous words that left his mouth.

And it was all you could do to watch, your dinner feeling leaden in your stomach as you listened to the words — listened to him reel off a list of people he, personally, had met, who had suffered at the hands of the fae. As he told the story of your mother’s brutal death, and the details formed a lump in your throat, never lessening in impact. As he presented his ideas, his plans, in a way that was so refined, so expert, that it almost had you considering that they were the best course of action.

But you knew Azriel. You knew Azriel. These faeries that your father raged about were not his brethren. Azriel himself would abhor their actions.

You repeated that to yourself in your head, like a chant. Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

Two whole hours, you had to sit there and listen to your father talk about frightening creatures who stole babies from their bassinets, who brutalised young girls, who tore families apart. Two whole hours, and your muscles were stiff and aching. Your head throbbing. Your body and mind desperate for the oblivion of sleep. A respite away from the pang in your gut.

Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

The sight of your father and his men traipsing around the room with rolls of parchment and gathering signatures was a relief — only because you knew this would soon be over.

You sighed softly to yourself, slumping back in your chair and absentmindedly rubbing a hand over your stomach. As though it would somehow ease the complicated feelings that twisted it so violently.

“Impactful.” The chair beside you was pulled out, and Devin lowered himself into it. “Don’t you think?”

You gave the slightest dip of your chin. Couldn’t deny that your father had a way with words.

Devin pursed his lips, his eyes skating over you. “We have a long ride home, Y/N. Are you going to ignore me the whole way back, too?”

“Yes,” you hissed. “Because you had no right to talk to my father on my behalf.”

He folded his arms, appearing unflinching and unbothered by what he’d done. You may have thought he was in the wrong, but he certainly didn’t.

“I did so out of concern for you,” he replied. “Because what you said about the fae was wrong. None of them are good. The sooner you see that, the better.”

You bit inside of your cheek, simply to prevent yourself from arguing. But gods, you wanted to contest the statement. You wished you could tell him that you had cold, hard, beautiful evidence that he was wrong.

But doing so would only make things worse for you.

So you merely folded your own arms, and focused your gaze on the men weaving in and out of tables, gathering signatures, clapping supporters on the back and parting with well wishes. You stared and stared until the sight of them blurred.

And then Devin said, “You haven’t been yourself recently.”

You whipped your head around to look at him — gape at him. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“I know you were acting shifty as fuck the night I came to check on you during the Summer Festival. You couldn’t get rid of me quick enough. I’d be forgiven for thinking you had someone there with you.”

“Who would I possibly have at my house?” you narrowed your eyes. “I’m not allowed to make friends, to form connections.”

His gaze softened. “I’m your friend.”

It wasn’t that long ago that you’d fantasised about him being more than that. He’d seemed so incredible, so gallant — a young man who could sweep you off your feet, and protect you while he guarded an entire village. You’d wondered if there was ever any likelihood of him being drawn to you, instead of one of the many other beautiful girls within proximity. You’d wanted to impress him.

Now, you just wanted him out of your fucking sight before you said something that would land you in more shit.

“You—”

The tavern’s front door flung open, hard enough to slam against the wall, abruptly severing your sentence.

All fell still and silent as every face looked up to take in the man who entered. Hair ripped from the knot at the back of his neck, and he was drenched in sweat, clothes rumpled and—

And saturated with blood.

There was a beat, and then everyone who crowded the small space appeared to collectively clock what they were seeing. A wave of gasps rippled through the room like a breeze.

“I—” the man’s eyes immediately landed on your father, as though it were him he searched for. “I tried to do something, but I was too late. I couldn’t—”

“What has happened?” Your father strode forward.

“I was too late,” he repeated. “I…I think you need to see this.”

Just like that, every member of your group was readying themselves to leave — to throw themselves straight into the unknown. Devin, too, rose.

But your father was wrenching round to face them, shaking his head. “I’ll take only a couple of you with me. The rest of you should stay here until I send word,” he angled himself towards your table. “Devin, Y/N — you’ll join me.”

“Me?” Your eyes widened. Granted, you didn’t know what, exactly, you’d be facing, but one look at the blood-drenched man at the entrance told you it was bad. You didn’t know nearly enough about fighting, or defending, or healing—

“Yes.” Your father’s tone brooked no room for argument. “You.”

There was no chance to protest as you were yanked out of your seat by Devin and pulled along with him while your father headed out of the door. Your heart raced in your chest as Devin helped you up onto his horse, and you were lurched into action.

All you could think was that you wished — so badly wished — to be back in the safety of the Bluebird Inn. And Azriel’s arms.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You didn’t travel far. A few dirty, dusty roads brought you straight to a house that was mostly unassuming, no different to the houses in your village.

But the similarities stopped at the first scream that ripped through the night and had you violently flinching, had the horses panicking.

Devin dismounted with ease and promptly lifted you off, setting you on your feet at the exact same moment another scream sounded, thinning out into a strangled sob.

“Come.” Your father beckoned to you as Devin made quick work of tying the horses up.

But you couldn’t get your feet to move. You stayed firmly rooted to the spot as you shook your head. “I can’t go in there.”

“You can and you will,” he beckoned again. “Don’t let me down.”

With him in front of you and Devin now at your back, you felt you had no choice but to follow. The man that had burst into the tavern held the front door open, increasing the volume of what now seemed to be wailing sobs.

“I’ve heard of your cause,” he said quietly as your father stepped in first. “Which is why I think you should see this. So you can report back firsthand to the Queens.”

The entryway was just light enough to catch the incline of your father’s head. He said nothing as you were led through—

You stopped dead in the doorway of what seemed to be a dining room. So abruptly that Devin’s front collided with your back.

“Her name is — was — Dahlia.” The man inched towards the table, balling his fists at his sides. “She was only fourteen years old.”

“What happened?” Those two little words came from you — and you didn’t even realise it.

Because lying motionless on the table was the body of a young girl — from what you could make out beneath the injuries that covered her skin, anyway.

Her pallor was such a deathly white that you knew she was long gone. Her clothes were dirty, ripped…by what looked like claws. Chunks of flesh had been gouged out, her throat cut—

Your ears were ringing too loudly for you to think. But as your heart beat at a gallop, another cry rent the air, stealing your attention to the corner of the room.

“This is Marin,” the man breathed, moving closer to the woman who sat curled up and distraught in the corner. “Dahlia’s mother. She saw the attack with her own eyes.”

“Oh, gods,” you whispered. Devin’s hand landed on your shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

Your father took slow, careful footsteps towards the grieving mother. And the softness with which he knelt before her, laying a tentative hand atop of hers…it had your eyes stinging.

“My name is Marschal,” he introduced himself quietly. “I’m so sorry for what those monsters have taken from you. Your beautiful daughter is safe in the Beyond now. The fae can hurt her no more.”

Another soft cry shuddered out of Marin. But she nodded her head and answered, her voice watery, “I know who you are. What…what you do.”

“Then you’ll know why I’ve been brought here. What happened…it’s something I believe our queens should know about,” he paused. “If you’re able, I’d like to know exactly what it was you witnessed. As much as you can manage, of course.”

The request almost made you flinch. It seemed callous, somehow, when her child’s body was still right there on the table and hadn’t yet been sent back to the earth. But after a beat of Marin staring at your father through her tear-filled eyes, she offered the slightest dip of her chin.

“I…” Her voice wobbled. “I’ll try.”

“Devin,” your father murmured over his shoulder. “Fetch her a drink to steady her nerves.”

You were jostled ever so slightly forward as Devin slipped past you — too close to Dahlia’s poor, broken body than you could handle. You turned away, your feet numbly carrying you to Marin’s side. You took her hand into your own, and she didn’t object to the comfort.

In fact, her voice was a little steadier as she said, “It was just me and my Dahlia.” She inhaled slowly through her nose, steeling herself. Her eyes fluttered shut for the briefest second before they opened again. “We were returning home from visiting my sister in another village. It was such a nice night that we decided not to spend coin on transport. The walk was a bit lengthy, but we’d made it before. We knew which way to go.”

The story was momentarily interrupted by Devin re-entering the room and handing a glass of amber liquid to Marin. Her free hand trembled as she took it and lifted it to her lips. Beads of dark liquid coloured her pale lips as she swallowed it down and continued.

“Only, Dahlia insisted on cutting through a forest to look at some plants,” she whispered. “She’s into botany, you see — she was into botany.” A fresh wave of shuddering sobs threatened to overpower her, but somehow, she found the strength to tamp down on them. “So we went into the forest, but Dahlia, she…she had a habit of wandering off, and I got separated from her. It wasn’t for long. But when I found her again, she was with a man.”

Your father repeatedly softly, “A man?”

“I knew at once that it was a faerie. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. And Dahlia thought so, too. He was talking to her, and she had this glazed look in her eyes like she was somewhere else. He offered her his hand, and she took it. I knew in my bones that he was going to take her away from me, so I stepped forward, announced myself. I told Dahlia to come, that we were going home. The man answered for her in a voice like music.”

“What did he say?” you rasped.

“He said — he said that Dahlia would make a pretty wife for a faerie. That faerie men liked human brides. He said that she was coming back with him, across the wall. He asked her if she wanted to do that, and she said yes. I think he had her under some sort of spell. I could tell that it wasn’t my Dahlia talking. And I panicked. I stepped forward to grab her out of his arms, and he attacked. Immediately. It was all so quick, I couldn’t register what he was doing. But then he was disappearing before my eyes, and Dahlia was crumpling to the floor, and I knew…I could see she was gone.”

A keening, horrendous wail left her, and she was curling herself up so tightly — like she was trying to hold herself together. It was all you could do to grip onto her hand as she rocked back and forth and cried over and over and over, my Dahlia, my Dahlia, my Dahlia.

You waited for your father to say something else — to come up with an answer as to what might ease her suffering, if anything at all could.

But it was Devin who lowered himself to one knee before her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his face gentle, open.

“Madam, the last thing I wish to do is cause you any more distress at such an awful time.” He spoke in the calm, sure way that all village guards did. “But I am a guard of the village from which my companions and I hail. Our girls have been suffering attacks at the hands of the fae, also. If, perhaps, you could describe the faerie you saw…who hurt your child…”

“He was beautiful, as I said,” Marin snivelled. “So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him. Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. That beauty made him easy for Dahlia to trust. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.”

“Their beauty,” your father supplied sympathetically, “is a calculated part of their thrall. Do not blame yourself nor your daughter for being allured by it. The fae know what they are doing.”

You did not hear whether the reassurance brought Marin any comfort. You didn’t catch what Devin then said to her, despite you looking right at him, watching his lips move.

Your mind was roaring, ears screaming. You felt…panic.

Their beauty is a calculated part of their thrall.

The fae know what they are doing.

So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him.

Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.

Faerie men like human brides.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

Was it so easy to be lured by the mere beauty of the fae?

Was that what Azriel had done to you?

Dahlia’s attacker had seemed nice to her…just as Azriel seemed nice to you.

And Dahlia was now lying lifeless and brutalised just inches away. Allured by a beautiful faerie. Like the other village girls. Like your mother. Like you—

You launched up, nausea turning your stomach. This was too much. If all fae were the same…if all of them were capable of this…

“What is it?” Devin asked. Your father didn’t speak; merely stared at you with an indiscernible expression.

“I need some fresh air, I’m sorry.” Feeling as though you were gasping for breath, you pushed through them, stumbled clumsily past Dahlia’s body and out of the room before they could stop you. You focused on forcing your legs forward, finding your way out of the house. Balmy summer air coaxed you towards it and had you practically falling out of the door.

What had you been thinking, having regular, secret meetings with a faerie who could tear you apart with his bare hands? Inviting him into your village, your home? Allowing yourself to think that he was somehow different? Finding ways to justify your involvement with him?

Azriel may not have been responsible for the attacks himself, but his kind were. You didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was capable of. For all you were aware, your warming to him had been carefully manipulated by him, by magic. For all you were aware, he could have an extensive list of human girls that he’d softened and lured. He could be using you for something.

You didn’t want to think about what. Didn’t want to know.

What you did know was that you couldn’t see him anymore. Dahlia was some sort of sign that your dealings with the fae had to stop. What you had with Azriel needed to stop—

“It hits a little close to home, doesn’t it?” Your father’s soft voice reached you from the doorway. Amidst your reeling thoughts, you hadn’t heard him follow you out.

You sucked in a huge gulp of fresh air and pivoted to face him. “It does,” you agreed. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you by running out of there.”

He shook his head, took a step closer. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I felt it was necessary for you to see just what a single faerie was capable of. That doesn’t mean I expect you to be unfeeling and unaffected. That sight in there is…it’s terrifying. And gods, if it were you lying on that table—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard. It was a rare thing for him to share such sentiments with you. That was as close as he’d allow himself to get.

So you nodded, letting him know that you got it. He was terrified of you meeting the same fate that poor Dahlia had.

The moment hung between you, thick as the sticky night air. And then you were taking the plunge and asking the question that lived somewhere deep and heavy inside you, trying to claw its way out.

“Was it like that when Mama was attacked?” you studied your father, waiting for him to flinch, grimace, something. “When she was attacked by a faerie, did she…did she look much like Dahlia does?”

A gruesome question, and perhaps an unfair one.

But for the first time in your life, you needed to know — the gory details. How bad it had been.

Your father pursed his lips, staring back at you. For a moment, you thought he might not answer.

But then he shook his head. Shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked…vulnerable.

“No,” he answered, his voice laced with something you couldn’t grasp. “No. There was far less left of your mother after her attack. Nothing of the woman I had loved.”

Before you could answer, he turned and trudged back inside.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Three weeks in a row.

Three weeks in a damn row, the curtains had remained shut at Y/N’s bedroom window.

Azriel thought his need to see her was starting to eat him alive.

But gods, he missed her. He missed her curiosity, that she did not seem to fear him. Missed that he could lose hours talking to her about everything and nothing. Missed her scent, the taste and feel of her lips—

He heaved a sigh, sprawling back in his bed and running a hand over the panes of his bare stomach. His blood thudded and thrummed in his veins. Burned too hot.

He knew, at least, that she was well, only from the rare glances he caught of her from the sky above the village. Seeing her and not being able to swoop down and speak to her was a whole torture of its own. But if the curtains were closed, that meant it wasn’t safe. The last thing he wanted was to get her into trouble.

Still, that didn’t stop his bones from feeling too hot with need, his heart too heavy—

Another quiet sight escaped him, the pads of his fingers stroking absentmindedly over his abdomen. It felt entirely out his control that his thoughts quickly ventured down the same avenue they’d been walking for three weeks, now. Yet again recalling that conversation he and Y/N had had when he’d last been with her. The broadened confidence that had lain within her actions.

She’d asked him about lovers. She’d kissed him deeply, yearningly, and had he not stopped her, she would have taken it further. He knew she would have — knew it from the way her scent had changed.

Gods, that scent. He was sure it had followed him everywhere these past weeks. It would drive him mad yet. The scent of fresh summer air and sweet, ripe apples. It was perfect, and mouthwatering, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel wanted more. A touch. A taste—

A low noise rumbled in his chest as his cock instantly hardened. This was why it was best to keep his mind occupied. Because as time went on, so too did his growing, strengthening, snowballing attraction for the human woman.

She was likely unaware of what affect she truly had on him.

With only the covers draped over his naked body, the light brush of the fabric against his hardened length was too much. He kicked them away, glancing down at his body’s reaction to the mere thought of Y/N. Nothing to do with him not having had sex for a while now.

All to do with the fact that he wanted Y/N. Badly.

He wrapped a hand around his cock, releasing a hushed moan at the touch. And as his thumb mopped up the precum at the head, and he began to pump slowly, languidly, he closed his eyes and imagined it was her hand that touched him.

That mental image threw the unhurried pace straight out of the window. Fantasies swarmed him as he writhed on the mattress and bit down on his husky, growling moans. Thoughts of Y/N stroking and squeezing and licking him, of her guiding him through his pleasure with filthy words and promises. Watching his length disappear between those perfect, full lips—

A shout shuddered out of him that he was too slow to suppress, his chest heaving as he emptied his cock onto his stomach. The pleasure was too much. He couldn’t think around it, couldn’t see anything but the stars that burst in his vision.

He didn’t know when he’d last cum so fast, so hard.

But somehow, he did know that no other woman, female, whatever, would ever be enough again. Only Y/N. He wanted Y/N.

He needed to find a way to see her.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Resolving to have nothing more to do with Azriel did not, unfortunately, banish thoughts of him. Nor did it banish the feeling of missing him, missing what you’d grown comfortable with.

It was hard to go from looking forward to weekly rendezvous to just…nothing. No social interaction, besides what you got from behind the bar of the inn. No personal connections.

It was for the best, you told yourself. In the three weeks since you’d been on the road with your father and his men, those images of Dahlia’s broken body had not left your mind. They haunted you as thoroughly as the sounds of Marin’s cries and wails. As thoroughly as those words she’d spoken.

The most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

Azriel was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he may not have been responsible for Dahlia’s attack, or the attacks on the girls in your village…that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable.

The fae were a violent people. There was no getting around that. And you…you could not take that risk. No matter how much your heart yearned to do so, just to feel the touch of Azriel’s hands and hear the smooth lilt of his voice.

He was fae. You were human. It could never work.

So you kept your curtains closed, and you kept yourself busy. You knew Azriel must have wondered what was going on, why you’d been unavailable three weeks in a row. Soon enough, you told yourself, he was bound to get bored and seek connection with somebody else, and your brief brush with the fae would become a bizarre, distant memory.

You hoped.

Perhaps if you chanted it to yourself enough, it would come true.

But gods, you’d become so comfortable with him. Had found what felt like a real, genuine bond with somebody, like nothing you’d been able to experience before. It was no easy thing to return to loneliness, just you and the inn and your piano. Everything was suddenly too dull, too quiet.

At least your father hadn’t asked you to come on the road with him again.

His trips were getting longer, the further he ventured. Two days had stretched to four. You were more alone than ever.

Tonight, when the last of your customers had filed through the door, you were not in the mood to play piano, nor to read a book. Your frame of mind was a tricky one. You felt…restless and misplaced. Tired in your bones and yet wide awake and longing.

You tossed and you turned, kicking your sheets, writhing against your mattress until you were sticky with sweat. You wanted to pull back the curtains and wrench open the window, but…not at this hour. Not while Azriel might still be circling above, searching to see if you were available.

So in the dark, you let the hours tick by, waited for sleep to find you or…some semblance of peace. You listened to each chime of the village’s clock tower, making you aware of every hour you’d lain awake; one o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock. No passing time made a difference. Restlessness still commanded your body until finally, you’d had enough.

It was nearing four o’clock by the time you threw your sheets off you and stormed out of your bed, exasperated and fed up — by your constant thoughts that would not leave you alone, and how they seemed to control everything. What were you to do without the few hours of oblivion that sleep afforded you?

Was even this some power of the fae…to command your mind and drive you mad with sleeplessness and restlessness until you were losing yourself entirely, becoming an empty shell who lived only to harbour feelings for an ethereal being who saw you as some sort of toy? Was your longing even real, or just the product of magic?

You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

Though still very much night, the darkness had lifted just slightly over the village with another summer morning rapidly approaching. Birds were beginning to wake and sing their songs. It wouldn’t be too long before the milkman ventured through the village with his wagon, leaving bottles at the residents’ doors.

If Azriel had tried to visit, he certainly wouldn’t be around any longer — not with the world waking up.

So you resigned yourself to the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping. You threw a robe over your nightgown and trudged down the stairs, irritated and ill at ease. You headed straight for the back door, to your small yard that was just as grey and dull as everything else. At least the air would be fresh. Somewhat.

Though tinged with the smells of the countryside, it was nice to feel it wash over you. Cool, in the absence of the sun, and yet not cold. You slumped down onto the wooden bench against the wall and rested your head back, closing your eyes.

How, you wondered, had you been foolish enough to land yourself in such a predicament? How had you gone from being some human, village nobody, to brushing arms with the very beings you’d been raised to despise? It had to be magic that had weaved its way into your mind. Perhaps Azriel hadn’t meant to bewitch you, but he had. Perhaps it was some natural facet of his kind that he had no control over, that you’d fallen victim to. You’d heard stories of the kinds of fae who were love talkers — Gancanagh — whose sole magic was to pour sweetened words into women’s ears and so thoroughly seduce them until they were nothing more than their feelings. Could that be what Azriel was? Could he have—

A thud ripped you from your thoughts so abruptly that you jolted, your eyes flying open.

Just in time to see Azriel jump down from the opposite wall, feet landing smoothly on the cracked concrete ground of the yard.

You stared at him, knocked speechless, for a moment, by the mere sight of him. You couldn’t deny that you’d missed gazing upon his brilliance. The dark leathers and flawless appearance. The shadows.

But you quickly yanked yourself out of it, shaking your head. You would not be bewitched or love-talked or…whatever. Not again.

“It’s so good to see you,” Azriel breathed, cleaving the silence.

But you were up on your feet, still shaking your head, suddenly cold all over. “You can’t be here.”

“I checked the village before I came down,” he stepped closer. “All is fine—”

“No,” you interrupted. “You need to leave.”

He paused, seeming to take his time studying you. His brow furrowed at your guardedness, the way you crossed your arms over your chest and eyed the distance between yourself and the door.

“I don’t understand…” he murmured, taking a step closer. “Where have you been? What’s happened?”

The backs of your legs hit the bench in your attempt to back up. “None of that matters. You just need to stay away from me. Leave, and don’t come back.”

Surprise seemed to steal him so suddenly that it gave you an opening the move. You made to cross your way back to the door, to get yourself inside. Locks were no use against his ability to winnow, but at least you could find a weapon in there, should you need it.

But Azriel was stepping closer just as fast, his warm hand closing around your elbow in a gentle yet firm touch. Gods, you’d missed that touch—

“Don’t,” you snapped, recoiling. “Do not touch me—”

“Y/N, just look at me. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Why?” Pivoting to face him didn’t ease his grip even a little. “So you can charm me into believing you’re not dangerous?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes blazing. “I never claimed not to be dangerous. But I am not a danger to you.”

A brusque, almost hysterical laugh broke from you. “Resorting to faerie riddles? How convenient—”

“Y/N—”

“Let me go.”

This time, when you yanked your arm back, his hand fell. You didn’t wait around to see his reaction as you darted through the door and slammed it shut, locking it with trembling hands.

But when you turned, he was right there in front of you, in your fucking house. You backed yourself up against the door to stop your body colliding with his.

“Get out,” you breathed. “I mean it. Get away from me.”

Slowly, he rose his hands in a placating manner. There was pleading in his tone as he carefully bit out, “I just want to talk to you. Please. Tell me what I’ve done.”

You stared at him, pressing your palms flat against the door. It hurt so, so badly that you wanted to hear him out. Wanted to wipe that crestfallen, devastated expression from his face and hold his hand and talk to him and kiss him—

No, no, no. You shook your head, shook the thoughts away. Azriel watched with wide eyes.

“I am not a danger to you,” he said again, slowly lowering his hands. “But if that’s what you’re worried about…” smooth as a damn waltz, he unsheathed a blade, sharp enough to slice through the sky itself. He gripped the hilt, holding the beautiful weapon out to you. “Take this. It is the only thing I am currently armed with, and if at any point you feel in danger, you have my permission to stab me with it. I just want to talk.”

Your gaze flicked between the blade and his face, unsure and upset. Upset, because you knew that the longer you spent in his presence, spent listening to his voice, the harder it would be to remember the driving force behind your hostility. The harder it would be to convince him to leave and never return.

But perhaps the key to that was not being hostile towards him, but rather, making him hostile towards you. That would be easier. You had never been completely honest with him — about who your father was. Maybe fessing up to the fact that you’d joined him in his campaign would be enough to anger Azriel into leaving.

You jerked your chin at the blade, squaring your shoulders. “Place it on the floor and step away.”

He didn’t hesitate. A shadow snaked out, coiling around the dagger and easing it to the floor with barely a noise. And then Azriel stepped back, and back, and back. Until he was pressed against the wall opposite you.

He didn’t move an inch as you reached for the knife and took it into your hand. The feel of it was weighty and foreign — and beautiful.

“I just want to talk to you,” Azriel said again, his voice gritty. “Tell me what happened. Tell me what…what’s changed.”

You met his eyes, squaring your shoulders as you admitted, “I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

His face showed no reaction. He didn’t even stir. Just stared back at you and spoke clearly, carefully. “Alright. Talk me through that.”

“We once discussed a band of humans who are raising a cause against the fae. Do you remember?”

“I do.”

“I never told you that it is my father who set up the cause. He is the one behind the campaigns. He is the one who takes his men village to village and spreads word of the evil deeds of the fae. He’s behind it all.”

A heavy silence filled the space between you. Azriel stared at you, his expression unreadable. This was the moment he would curse you for keeping the truth from him. The moment he would leave and never look back.

Except, all he did was nod his head once. Like you’d merely offered him a droll comment about the weather.

“Do you not understand what I’m telling you?” you pushed. “I sat up on that hill with you and discussed the matter when I knew the entire time who you were talking about. What they were doing. I deceived you. Kept it from you.”

“There are things you don’t know about me, too,” he answered quietly. “Things that I, for certain reasons, have not told you yet. I would be foolish to assume the same wouldn’t be the case for you,” he stared at you, head-on. Unflinching. “I know better than anybody, Y/N, that you cannot help who or what you come from. I won’t judge you for it, just as I’ve asked you not to judge me.”

Gods, he was so damn reasonable. So much more…worldly and mature, than the human men you knew in the village.

Then again, Azriel had centuries of life on them.

“I’m not angry that you didn’t tell me,” he studied you. “I can understand why you’d be cautious—”

“My father took me on his campaign three weeks ago. Took me on the road with him and his men.”

 It was that which seemed to really stop Azriel in his tracks. Something — the slightest thing, a tiny reaction — flared in his eyes. You weren’t sure what it was.

Good. This was good. Maybe now he would get the point, that you and he needed to stop seeing each other.

“Night after night, I sat and listened to what my father had to say. To what he knows,” your hand gripped hard at the knife’s hilt, like it was the only thing grounding you and making you able to speak. “None of it was stuff I hadn’t heard before. I even resented listening to it. I curled myself up in a corner and repeated to myself over and over that whatever was being said, you were not like that. You were not the kind of fae of which my father spoke.”

Azriel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am not. Just as I told you.”

“I found it frustrating to hear him tarnish all of your people with the same stories when you had proved to me otherwise. That some fae could be good. That I had been ignorant. And then,” a short laugh rasped out of you, “and then, as if the universe was trying to send me some sort of message, a man came looking for us and said we needed to accompany him somewhere. And we did. My father, a member of his group, and myself. We followed this man to a house in that village, and I knew it was bad from the other end of the street. I could hear the cries coming from within that house, the wailing.”

That information was met with a wall of silence — as though Azriel was biting back his words and waiting for you to finish your story before he would deign to speak. Even if the rigid set of his shoulders told you he desperately wanted to do otherwise.

“There was a girl’s body in that house.” Merely recalling the image of Dahlia had a lump rising in your throat. You silently begged your eyes not to tear up. “The body of a fourteen-year-old girl. A child. A fae male had attacked her, and her poor mother had seen the entire thing.”

Azriel swallowed. “That’s awful—”

“She told us exactly what she saw. Described the faerie to us. How he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, with dark eyes and golden skin and such a charming demeanour. How her daughter hadn’t stood a chance, because he was already weaving his way into her mind and appealing himself to her. Making her think that he was no threat. Because his beauty, his allure, was above anything else.”

“And…what are you saying?” Azriel asked bleakly. “That you think it was I who attacked that girl—?”

“No, but it was a faerie! It’s always the fucking fae!”

The words left you so angrily, so loudly, that you realised you’d been waiting for someone to yell them at. That they burned inside you, and they hurt. You felt…foolish. Betrayed.

And Azriel appeared to read all of that on your face. He swallowed again, hard, balling his fists at his sides like it took everything in his power to hold himself back and not approach you.

“I never once denied that faeries are capable of such atrocities,” he stared at you. “Not once. I simply asked you to acknowledge that there is good and bad in all people, whatever we are. It’s not as black and white as the fae just being bad.”

“And yet,” your voice was cold, “I haven’t been presented with anything to say otherwise.”

That might have been a low blow. You were guessing it was, from the way Azriel physically flinched, before schooling his features.

Because he…he was evidence of good, wasn’t he? He certainly had been, before the situation with poor Dahlia. He’d shown you that he was tender and soft, patient and kind. It had been enough for a while.

But you had more or less just said that it had never been enough at all. And that seemed to bother him more than anything else.

“You and I are worlds apart,” you added, sounding weaker. “Whatever or whoever you are…we simply have no business getting involved with one another.”

“That’s bullshit.” In a flash, Azriel was pushing off the wall. He strode forward a couple of steps, before thinking better of it and stopping in his tracks. Ferocity turned his golden skin a ruddy hue. “I don’t care what sides of the wall either of us fall on. What matters is that I feel right around you. I feel alive because of you. If we have no business getting involved, tell me why I cannot sleep for having constant thoughts about you. Tell me why you have consumed me as though you have bewitched me.”

You blinked, almost — almost — wanting to laugh. The description was one you absolutely had fitted to him. To consider that he’d come to the same conclusion about you—

“I swear to you that I have never used any sort of faerie sway to appeal myself to you,” he continued. “What we feel for one another is genuine. I keep coming back to you because I ache for you. And I don’t judge you one bit for thinking badly of my kind — especially after what you saw on your father’s trip. It’s awful, and I abhor what was done to that girl. But I beg of you, Y/N — please. Do not paint me in the same light.”

Each word pelted you like hailstones, the impact of them sending a shiver coursing down your spine. So quickly, your body wanted to falter, to fold, to go marching over to him. It took every shred of effort to stand your ground and grip onto the knife as though your life depended on it.

“I’m not trying to invalidate what you’ve seen, what you’ve experienced.” Azriel took another slight step forward. “I would never. I just…I ask you to give me one more chance to prove that there is another side to the coin. That good can exist as well as bad.”

You pointed the blade towards him, stopping him in his tracks. But you lifted your chin as you asked, “How? How would you prove that? I don’t want any faerie trickery.”

“And there would be none. I want to show you…for you to see with your own eyes…”

“…see what?”

“The good that I know. The good that I live amongst.” Pleading lay within his eyes. “Just give me one more night. One more night of your time to take you into my world. To show you more of myself. And if you still want nothing more to do with me…” Slowly, he shook his head, as though he could hardly bear the thought. “Then I will find a way to accept it, and you will never have to see me again.”

You shook — trembled — with the effort to rein yourself in. You didn’t understand this carnal…thing, deep inside you, that was drawing you to him. Like a thread in your body, connected to one in his, begging you to close the gap and go to him.

You rocked on your feet, eyeing him with none of the anger you’d felt moments before, and all of the caution at how he so often made you feel. Like you wanted to be in front of him. To touch him.

“I don’t…understand what you’re suggesting,” you said slowly.

Azriel took a single, tiny step closer. You didn’t stop him. “Let me take you across The Wall for one night. A few hours, if that’s all you’re willing to give. To my city, my home. Let me introduce you to my family. To everyone and everything that reminds me how much good exists amongst my kind, even when I sometimes doubt it myself.”

“Across The Wall—?”

“It would be entirely safe.” Another step, closing that gap between you. “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. And if we get there and you don’t even want to talk to me, you don’t have to. I just…I just want you to see. You deserve to see the good.”

So many feelings warred inside you at once. Intrigue, curiosity, fear — such raging fear. Excitement. Maybe…maybe a little bit of hope.

Hope that you could still be proved wrong. Because you still wanted to be proved wrong.

You didn’t want to let Azriel go.

Swallowing hard, your eyes shuttered. What he was asking of you was huge, and that wasn’t even considering the logistics of how you would do it. “I don’t…know if I could.”

With another step, Azriel was close enough to touch. The familiar scent of him was almost enough, alone, for you to fold. The hand that held the blade lowered entirely without your willing.

“Why don’t you take the day to think about it?” Hazel eyes were a long-awaited caress against your face. “Your father is away for another night yet, isn’t he?”

Your gaze clashed with his abruptly. “How do you know that?”

Quickly, he held his hands up. “Just going by the pattern of his previous trips, that’s all. He doesn’t usually return until the weekend.”

Right. Perhaps you were being a little bit paranoid. You forced yourself to relax a little.

“Yes,” you concurred. “He’s away for another night.”

Azriel’s chin dipped. “So…how about this? You take the day to think my offer over. If you decide you want to accept and come with me, I’ll be waiting for you above. At midnight, on the dot. If you decide you don’t, and you do not want anything else to do with me…well, like I said, I’ll find a way to accept it somehow.”

You knew your resolve was already slipping, leaning more towards what felt right, rather than…that what you’d been raised to believe was right.

And it wasn’t as though it was an unreasonable offer. You believed that Azriel could keep you safe either side of The Wall. Your wellbeing wasn’t what concerned you in the slightest.

You supposed that it was that if you were to go along with this…there would likely be no turning back. You’d so far merely dipped your toe into the world of the fae.

Crossing The Wall would be like submerging yourself in it.

“Take the day to think about it,” Azriel said again, studying you closely. “All I ask is that you do think about it…properly. Don’t just…don’t just write me off. Please, Y/N. I couldn’t bear it.”

Something in his voice smothered that last shred of doubt that tried to hold you back. Your own voice was quiet as you replied, “Alright. I’ll think about it.”

In front of you, his shoulders seemed to slump with something like relief. Pleading still lay within his eyes. You weren’t sure, in that moment, if you could handle staring back at it.

So you instead held the knife out to him, ripping your gaze away. “You can have this back.”

“Don’t want to stab me?” he said, and your lips threatened to quirk up. You forced the smile away as he took the weapon back and sheathed it.

“I’ve yet to decide. I’ll spend the day contemplating that, too.”

So easy, to fall back into the natural rapport you had with him. Azriel didn’t bother to bite down on his smile.

But the smile then faltered, and worry clouded his eyes. “I really do hope you’ll give me another chance.”

“Why?” you blurted. “Why me?”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. And then he stepped away from you. Something in his stance told you he was readying himself to disappear.

“I’ll tell you why, if you come across the wall with me,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “I want to be transparent with you. But I have to protect my heart, too.”

“You—”

“Just think on it,” he spoke softer, gentler. “And get some sleep, Y/N.”

Before you could respond, a breeze rippled through the room, tinged with the smells of winter.

And just like that, you were alone.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

bluebird tag list: @kennedy-brooke @rosessndri @anae-naea-zacheria @iambored24601 @sirenpearldust @v3lv3tf0x @lupinswolfsbanes @alohaangels @feyretopia @janebirkln @a-dizzle777 @moonbirde @natashachelsea @navyblue-eternity @multi-reader @sfhsgrad-blog @makemeurvillain @lyinginameadow @101crows @bsenpai @honeyandhalfmoons @florencemtrash @ssmay123 @historygeekqueen @mika-no-sekai-blog @ktsskgzxlu @basicbittywitty @mybestfriendmademe @cali-flow3r @lalachat @honeybeeboobaa @azrielsbbg @eatinggummybearsisacrime @ilovemangomorethanu @rhysandorian @coralseacourt @berryzxx @pequeno-atlas @secretlyhers @grimoiregrl @just-jess-losers @happywolves81 @anama-cara @spideytingley @raccooninurwalls @despoinasstuff @ntimacy @brekkershadowsinger @ariaaira @lesehexe @aunicornmademedoit @fauxdette @moonlight-kr @sekiro1310 @fightmedraco @astarlitsoul @quinzzelx

[afictionalwhor3]

Mrs. Serensin

A/N: Back again from the dead lol. College is kicking my ass I cannot even lie. Also, I've been pissed at the lack of diversity in fandoms/fan fics until I realized I can literally change that lol so here's my take enjoy. One shot, I wrote wherever the wind took me.

Dad!Jake Serensin x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, established relationship, fluff (Jake and reader being domestic and in love), only minorly proofread.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't the warm sun on your skin that woke you up. Or even the usual patter of feet and knocking at your door that pulled you abruptly from sleep. It was the feeling of soft lips on your skin. Feather light and if you didn't focus you might've missed them. You stirred softly looking over your shoulder as Jake looked back at you with those gorgeous green eyes you fell in love with so many years ago.

"Morning Mrs. Serensin" He says with that famous boyish grin on his face as he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

"Morning" You mumble wiping your eyes after you kiss him back. "What time is it? Where are the kids?" You asked him. In seemingly no rush Jake went back to his previous role applying warm kisses to the column on your throat and along your shoulder. As much as you wanted to enjoy the moment you couldn't help but anticipate the screaming of children.

"Relax... kids are still sleeping. It's pretty early. It's just me and you darling" He says and some of his Texas drawl slips out making you smile. You lay on your back to properly look at him your hands tracing over his exposed chest down to his defined stomach. His ability to keep up with his physique while parenting three kids always ceased to amaze you. Jake smirks down at you putting his hands on your hips and giving them a squeeze.

"So are you telling me Mr. Serensin that I have you all to myself for the unforseeable future?" You ask smiling at him as he leans in close to you.

"You do Mrs. Serensin. But I don't know for how long so I plan on making the most of it," He says pressing his lips to yours passionately as you wrap your legs around his waist. After your third child, you were scared that yours and Jake's sex life would die down, or maybe he wouldn't even find you attractive anymore. Boy, you couldn't be further from the truth. You could swear that after each kid Jake only began to worship you more.

"You're gorgeous. Always so pretty" Jake whispers to himself when he pulls away from your lip to kiss at your jaw. He then quickly gets rid of his old navy shirt you had on. Slipping a finger up your slit smirking as you whimper. "Always so wet for me mama. I love it." He says pressing his lips to yours again as he slides a finger into your pussy making you moan.

"Jake please. I need you so bad. No teasing please," You beg. The nagging feeling of getting caught lingering at the back of your brain and you don't know what you'd with yourself if this moment between you two was interrupted. Jake slides another finger into you curling them just right to make your eyes roll back as you grab his wrist.

"There you go baby. I got ya. Always gotta make sure you're ready for me." Jake says pressing kisses to your collarbone as he gently pulls his fingers out and takes off his boxers. He guides himself up to your slit teasing you briefly before slowly sliding himself inside your heat both of you letting out breaths of pleasure. "Fuck you're always so tight for me mama. Three kids and you're still tight as the first night we met" Jake breathes into your neck.

One of the many things you loved about sex with Jake was how he wasn't scared to be vocal. You loved all the filthy things he would tell you as he fucked you into oblivion. No matter how many times the two of you had sex it would never get old. And this time was no different as he began thrusting in and out of you, "Yes Jake. Right there baby" You moan your hands finding his back as your nails dig gently into his flesh.

"Pussy's always ready for me. Always ready to take me. Ain't that right baby?" Jake asks as you nod. Usually, he loves to take his time with you, always wanting to make you cum before he even thinks about pleasuring himself. Unfortuantely this morning he didn't have that luxury and there is no way he would pass up an opportunity to watch you lose yourself on his cock. He sits up putting one leg over his shoulder and after a couple of hard thrusts he watches your jaw go slack and your eyes roll back. "There we go mama. There's the spot I was looking for. Feels so good doesn't it baby?"

All you can give him is moan after moan as you spiral deeper and deeper into pleasure. Jake realizes you losing your volume control and presses his lips to yours. "So loud for me. Love when you vocalize how good I'm fucking you baby" He whispers against your lips.

"Jake you're fucking me too good. Don't stop baby and I'll cum. Gonna cum all over your cock" You moan locking eyes with him. Now it is Jake's turn to get lost in your big brown eyes. The same ones he saw everytime he looked at your children.

"Gonna make a mess on my cock baby? Go ahead. Cum for me, I got you" He instructs as he slips a hand in between your body and begins to toy with your clit. That is the final straw for you as you bite softly into his shoulder to control your moans of pleasure. The spasming of your orgasm around Jake's cock has him cumming only a few strokes after you "Fuck baby I'm stuffing your pussy Oh god!" He moans into your ear before relaxing against your body.

You both lay in post orgasmic haze for what feels like forever "We should probably get ourselves together sometime soon before we end up having the birds and the bees conversation a lot sooner than we planned," Jake says making you smile. You run your hands through his hair a few times always trying to maximize the alone time you two shared,

"I guess you have a point there" You say as he smiles looking at you and kissing you "You are the love of my life Mrs. Serensin" He says before slowly pulling out of you as you whimper at the loss of contact. He stands up getting a warm cloth to clean you up with before he uses it for himself. After he does so you stand up so you can start getting ready for the day. You walk over to your closet finding clothes to put on after your quick shower. As you do so you hear Jake whistle behind you making you look over your shoulder,

"Looking good has always Mrs. Serensin. Do you know that everyday we are together you get sexier?" Jake asks as you roll your eyes and go back to the task at your hand biting your lip to hide your smile. You grab a towel before looking at him again,

"You know you don't have to sweet talk me anymore? We're married you know I'll give it to you whenever you want. Also I have a name outside of Mrs. Serensin" You say rhetorically loving that he calls you that all the time and never stops trying to woo you like the days he asked for your number.

"You know better than anyone I love the chase. As long as I'm on earth I'll spend that time hitting on you. You're too hot not to. And if I wanted to call you by your name I wouldn't of married you." He says as you continue to hide your smile from him and walk towards the bathroom. Before he can even ask you say, "No Mr. Serensin you cannot join," you smile as you see him fake pout out of the corner of your eye.

~

"They have the little festival thing in the park we could take them to. Wyatt and Cam loved it last year with the face painting and the balloon animals." You say as you and Jake finish getting dressed for the day almost ready to wake the kids up. Jake walks over slapping your bum gently before wrapping his arms around you.

"Whenever you tell me to go Mrs. Serensin is where I'll be" He says as you roll your eyes. He buries his head in crevice of your neck enjoying the fresh smell of vanilla that is so uniquely you he can smell it wherever he goes.

"Well there's also-" You start before both you and Jake hear a loud crash from downstairs. Both looking scared you race out of your room and downstairs. Jake keeps you behind him the whole time as you walk into the kitchen and see your three children covered in some kind of mix and eggs. Both of your jaws hanging open.

"We wanted to surprise you and make you guys pancakes" Your oldest Wyatt says as you sigh taking a deep breath as you see Jake try to refrain himself from laughing. You hit him lightly in the arm as you get closer to your babies.

"That is so sweet of you guys but next time you can get one of us and we will help you. Just to make sure no one gets hurt." You say picking up your youngest, your little girl Julia as she smiles that big toothy grin at you. "Surprise!!" she says holding her arms out as you hold her at an arms length laughing softly.

"How about daddy helps you guys get cleaned up and dressed for the day while I clean this mess up. After that we will all get breakfast and if you're good go to the park." You say as they all clap in unison. Wyatt and Cam make a dash past Jake racing to the bathroom as you walk over to him putting Julia in his arms.

"Get to cleaning Daddy. There's a lot of work to do" You smile giving him a kiss as Julia cuddles into him leaving Jake stunned and just as dirty now. Yet he can't help but smile at you, then his little girl, and at the life he currently as. Despite the egg yolk on his shirt, and the mess that he can already hear happening in the upstairs bathroom, he swears he wouldn't change his life for anything.

[deathbxnny]

Platonic Dan Heng, Welt, & Gallagher with a teen!reader that’s like Homura Akemi (From Puella Magi) but like they have a boss fight where reader is similar to Homulily (aka Homura’s witch form). Maybe after they’re defeated or when fighting them!

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

I absolutely love Homura, so I got really excited seeing this request, Anon!! I hope you'll like this!!<33

Content: Kind of spoilers for Homura's abilities as a witch?, vague descriptions of her abilities/appearance, angst, hurt/no comfort, blood, reader used to be under their care in some way, bossfight against reader, reader turns evil for unknown reasons, reader dies in two of them

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》GALLAGHER

Gallagher didn't know how it all turned out this way, and yet, he perhaps should've seen it coming too. He usually did. Now, standing before your twisted and near unrecognizable form, he found himself hesitating to protect the very place he was created to watch over all those years ago by Mkihail. But perhaps the old man should've also just taught him how to deal with the heartbreak he experienced at the realisation that he now had to fight you. The very kid he took under his wing.

Gallagher wasn't the type to plead and complain, however. He flicked his lighter open, deciding that things would come the way they should and needed to. What was another loss in the end? You were in pain under all the layers of hate you had become, a twisted witch as you called yourself. Someone who had to get rid of the rats that plagued the world cleanse it from the evil. Unaware that you had become the very thing you hated. He pitied you, deciding it was best to end it here by his own hands before someone else did.

You raised your arms in anticipation, your voice screeching in need for battle, and he simply chuckled. You were never the type for theatrics before you turned into this... but things have changed. He decided to play along with you one more time, as he summoned a Meme, unaffected by what may happen as he was assured he'd win. Even if it meant losing you.

》WELT YANG

This isn't the first nor the last time he had to fight against someone he cared for, and yet something about it still hurt him deeply. He thought that switching worlds would save him from that heartbreaking fate, yet you proved him wrong. You were a child that was taken in and raised by the express, a young teen that deserved to live a bright life despite never having gotten as far due to the consequences of your own actions. You turned into a witch, a grotesque monster that rivaled the strength of what he had seen in honkai abominations, and yet he still couldn't find it in his to hate you. Even if you attempted to end him through your own hate as well.

The fight was still unfair, however, as despite most of his Herrscher abilities being sealed, he still was able to beat you with the small fraction he still had. You were too young to control your abilities properly, too confused and disoriented with the sudden surge of power and strength beyond your own means, until it ultimately ended you. He simply stood over you as he watched you fade away into the morning sun, your body retaining it's original form, yet even then, did he not call onto the Astral Express. They didn't need to see you like this. They didn't need to try and save someone they couldn't.

And so as you took your last breaths, your hand weakly reached up to turn back time once more, yet he stopped you by placing his hand on yours and shaking his head silently. He figured you out at last. You couldn't help but smile for the first time at that bitterly, as you finally allowed yourself to rest with a final sigh in defeat.

》DAN HENG

Dan Heng knew things were getting bad when you forced him to take on his true form to deflect a near devastating attack from you. He had to stop you, save you. But he was running out of options, and you were relentless. You didn't give him a moments rest. You didn't let him think or regroup. You didn't let him call for help from your other companions. He couldn't do anything but dodged anything you threw at him seconds before it hit him, yet his heart couldn't allow him to attack you back.

His mind ran rampant with memories of you two watching over the Databank as he taught you everything he knew. You were like a younger sibling to him, a part of the family he was able to build when the Astral Express became his home all those years ago. And now it was all coming to an end right before his very eyes, when you began charging up an ability he knew would end him and perhaps even more if he didn't stop it.

He scared himself with the thought that ending your young life would be a form of mercy. He felt disgusted at his own thoughts, wondering if he had even learned anything at all from his rebirth, and yet he still pierced your witch form's heart with a swipe of his hand, knowing you couldn't survive it. But it was alright, as a part of him died with you too.

Okay, so this one was lowkey sad to write... but I enjoy the angst, so I hope this was fine for you, Anon, and thank you again for the great request!!<33

[lizdive]

I was thinking of older sister violet_evergarden!reader who is also a stoneheart x aventurine. I'd like to see how they interact since canonically, violet sees herself as nothing more than a weapon and will do whatever she has to do, to protect the person she cares for. Aka aventurine. I can also sorta see her either being an emanator of preservation or one the stronger stonehearts.

Hi anon :3 !! I love aventurine with my whole heart he’s just so squishy 😞 i had to go to the violet evergarden wiki for this one bcs i’ve never watched the anime so i’m sorry if stuff isn’t accurate this was kinda of difficult for me,, tysm for requesting <3 if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo it!!

notes 𐙚 fem! reader — "you" + "she/her" used to refer to the reader ,, reader as an older sibling ,, reader is based off of violet evergarden from violet evergarden anime ,, reader is an emanator of preservation but it isn’t mentioned much ,, reader is a stoneheart ,, aventurine is referred to as both "kakavasha" and "aventurine" ,, corundum’s are a type of gemstone that is ranked 9 on the toughness scale ,, of course you can change this to the stone of your desire !! this isn’t proofread ignore typos,,

"The hammer of preservation will fall on all beings, regardless of life or death, regardless of race, regardless of ideology, to uphold the basic rights we inherently posses."

The Rising Stars, the Stonehearts, the Gambler and the Soldier Maiden — all nicknames for two siblings who have seen it all. A handsome aventurine and a beautiful corundum. One blessed by HER, and another blessed by THEM.

To be an Emanator is to be seen as a piece of an Aeon — their will so strong that their abilities have been gifted to them by the Aeon. To be an Emanator in the IPC is to be seen as an asset that cannot be lost. And to be an Emanator of Preservation is to be seen as the biggest tool.

With THEIR blessing you have overcome all that life has thrown at you just for the sake of keeping your beloved brother save from harm. From the moment he was brought into this sad world, you have fought to protect him and your younger sister.

Only one of the two made it out alive.

Many people would call you a murderer, and while they technically aren’t wrong, they fail to see why you do it. Or perhaps they do not care. You killed and therefore you should be sent to your own death.

You remember the day when you and your brother were taken by the IPC. A woman clad in luxury, a smirk on her face, and her tone breathy and warm. "As a servant you should not resist your master." she had said, but you did not pay attention for her.

KAKAVASHA did most of the speaking for you. He was free to go — he had no blood on his hands. You were the one to be sent to the gallows. But you couldn’t and wouldn’t. Death was not an option. It never was and never would be until KAKAVASHA lets out his final breath from old age.

You didn’t see what was wrong — you never did. Yes, you killed the man and many more, but it was self defense. KAKAVASHA and you had always lived in a world where it was kill or be killed. Remorse was foreign to you.

And then came the offer. Join the IPC. Join the corporation that was the reason your kind fell and vanished off the map. Become the same as them. You could not care less. Should your brother join, you will, as well. And he did.

By the end of the day you both were clad in luxuries the same as her.

⭑ Missions were always a package deal. Where AVENTURINE goes, Corundum always follows. Where Corundum goes, AVENTURINE is most likely following. There is no separating the two.

⭑ AVENTURINE is very patient with his big sister. He knows that unlike him, she is not able to properly express what she feels. He’ll try to help explain why people feel the things they feel — he’s good at putting up a mask of emotions and to do so he needed to understand them first so he’s good at explaining.

⭑ If you have prosthetic limbs like Violet does and have room for drawings and doodles, AVENTURINE will definitely doodle on your arms during free time. Even if you hide them with your sleeves, it’s a nice pass-time activity. Nobody says anything about it because 1: he is a stoneheart and 2: you’re a stoneheart.

⭑ Will try to get you to be less hyper-independent. Ask him for help, it’s okay. He’ll even try to make you a bit reliant on him. He’s not a little kid anymore, he can definitely help you take out those guys. He’s good with a gun and it’ll finish the mission quicker, just let him do some fighting too,,

⭑ I feel like there could be some heavy angst potential here, especially with the entire aventurine boss fight. You’re so determined to protect him, and you aren’t against killing people to do so. He knows this, and so he tries his damn hardest to hide his plan from you but he’s your little brother your little KAKAVASHA so you know him. You’re not the best at emotions but you know he’s lying and hiding something.

⭑ He accepts death and welcomes it with open arms but he also doesn’t want to leave his big sister alone. His big sister, who has done everything and more to protect him. She had killed, she has been wounded, she has put up with his shenanigans, and she has done the impossible. He feels like he’s just throwing that all away,,,

⭑ You are lost without him when he 'dies'. He is your purpose in life. Helping the Astral Express fight against Sunday? Screw them! You need to find your little brother, there is no way he is dead. You pray to Mother Gaiathra, to Qlipoth, to any Aeon that will hear your prayers, that he is alive.

⭑ And when you find him alive and well in the real world, alone in his room in the reverie hotel, you feel like a dam inside you has bursted. You don’t cry, but you’re close to doing so and AVENTURINE doesn’t know whether to encourage you to let out your emotions and calm your through them or reassure you that he is alright and there is no need to cry.

⭑ On a lighter note: AVENTURINE doesn’t mind if you communicate with him via letters instead of messages when you’re on your own solo missions! He’ll get you the nicest envelopes and stamps to put on them. Maybe even some stickers! He loves when you use the silly ones. If you tell him it helps you understand emotions better, he’ll encourage you to write letters more and for other people. If you use an old typewriter, he’ll get you the nicest one on the market!

⭑ It said in the wiki that Violet feels guilt for killing the people she has killed, so if you also feel that, AVENTURINE will be by your side to reassure you that it’s okay. That it wasn’t your fault and it was needed for survival. He might use the "you were just trying to protect me" card to make you feel better since he knows he’s your weakness.

⭑ Sadly, to make a pledge to never kill anyone again like Violet did would be pretty much impossible. In the eyes of the IPC, violet evergarden! reader will always be a weapon, so it’ll kinda be forced upon her.

⭑ AVENTURINE loves the anxious expressions of the people he’s gambling with as his big sister stands behind him, intimidating the patrons of the casino. It also reassures him because if anyone tries to get violent he knows his big sis will be there to protect him so he can be as reckless and as infuriating as he wants.

⭑ Overall AVENTURINE would be a very good younger brother to a violet evergarden! reader because he fulfills her wish to protect and she fulfills his want to be cherished.

[ghvst-ing]

not proofread

It’s the blinding, morning sun that pours past the curtains, and into the bedroom that wakes him from his slumber.

The duvet was thrown off to the side during the night when it got too warm, a gentle pressure on his chest as it rose and fell with every intake of breath he took through his nose.

It was peaceful, quiet; no unpleasant thoughts swarming his brain. No sound of distant gunfire, or shouting he could make out within the comfort of his apartment, the four walls he called home.

His gaze soon shifted to you, and blinked the tiredness from his eyes, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his dry lips, idly tracing over them whilst he admired the image before him.

You were tucked to his side, the side of your face resting against his bare chest with your hair splayed out messily, tickling his skin. It was a sight he wouldn’t change for the world, one he loved waking up to each day, knowing he wasn’t alone in this life, even if he didn’t deserve it.

Ever so slowly, he lifted himself up slightly using his arms, careful to not disturb you too much as he did so. Simon tilted his head before pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to the top of your head, the smallest of smiles forcing its way onto his lips.

He lowered himself when he felt your stir, a soft groan escaping you as your eyes squeezed shut. He chuckled, and his hand moved to the back of your neck, rough fingertips lightly massaging the area.

“Mornin’, love.”

His voice was deep, gravelly, yet it held a tinge of softness; an adoration that already shone in the look he reserved for only you.

Your eyes languidly fluttered open, cringing at the brightness you were met with. “What time is it..?” You muttered, lids falling back closed.

“Past six,” He replied after throwing a short glance at the clock settled on the bedside table.

At his words, your brows pinched, and your lips pulled into a frown at the early hour. It was a normal time for him to awake, a routine he grew used to after years of service. However, on days like these, where you weren’t forced to go into work, you liked to sleep in.

You rolled over, your back facing him as your head hit the pillow. “Wake me up at nine,” You grumbled, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Oh, come on,” Simon huffed, shifting closer to you once you moved. His hands landed on both sides of your torso, tickling your sides, effectively making you squirm.

A small giggle was forced from your lips, legs threatening to kick out if it weren’t for the weight of one of his own on top of yours.

“Si-Simon..!” You struggled, hands pushing at his in a futile attempt to stop his attack, eyes squeezing shut as you writhed. “Stop that!”

“Only if you promise to get up.” He said. You felt his warm breath next to your ear, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

You nodded hastily, breathless. “Fine, fine!”

It was only then that he relented, giving the shell of your ear a playful nip.

Finally, you could only think as you sighed in relief, panting as you regained the ability to properly inhale and exhale air from your lungs.

Once you begrudgingly sat up on the mattress, Simon followed as you threw your legs over the side. Your feet touched the cold floorboards, and you shivered, tossing your boyfriend a pouty glare.

“Asshole..” You swatted his shoulder, the sound reverberating, yet the bastard only chuckled heartedly at your pitiful attempt to be mean.

“Love you, too.”

[yappaccinocookie]

demon snow!

yn cookie with an ability like kyouka from bsd, how would and ancients and beasts react?

I only did the beasts that have been released (seen in the story) so far. I haven't finished watching bsd, so i used most of my sources from wiki! since cellphones don't exist in crk (that I know of) the inanimate object that is used to control her ability is not described as anything else but an "object." stupid tumblr also deleted all of my work, so I redid this. i didn't proofread, it's just straight brain to paper (digital paper maybe) i also didn't know if you wanted them grouped together so I did them all separately this is why this ask took forever. you can take this as romantic or not!

LOWER CASE INTENDED!

context (from wiki) : her ability, demon Snow (夜叉白雪, Yasha Shirayuki), materializes demon snow, a ruthless sword-wielding phantom that only follows orders coming from her mobile phone, which allowed Akutagawa to control her ability in the past.

— ANCIENTS

White Lily —

"Really? That's... terrifying— wait not to degrade you I think it's neat!"

she was terrified at first, after learning about your ability she felt guilty knowing you couldn't control this winter beast in you, instead it was controlled by a phantom that wouldn't listen to you. this poor cookie over thought everything.

she immediately (although patiently) asked you for more information, to see if she could do anything to make sure this ability wouldn't harm your dough or cookies–a–like that are near you during transformation.

white lily noted everything she could discover about your ability, although she was terrified at the possible outcomes she was also intrigued with what it could do. this phantom would only listen to that object you hold around, and it made her paranoid considering somebody could steal it and use your ability for bad. she started working around ways to make it safer for you with the information you provided and the things she could find in every nook and cranny of the library.

at the end, when she's done all she could do she'll just help you maintain a healthy relationship with your ability, and even though she kind of shivers watching it destroy everything in the battle field there's always a glint of amazement in her eyes.

her reaction is a mix of confusion, curiosity and fear. know she just wants the best for you, and she's also trying her best for you! if you need help you can ask white lily, she'll find a way.

Golden Cheese —

"Wait really? That's pretty cool, what can it do?"

she found it badass, and didn't look more into it. golden cheese is a god herself with godly abilities, so abilities aren't new to her she won't be that curious, I don't see her as the type to do much/serious research other than a few random questions.

golden cheese is eager to battle the phantom though, it didn't seem like a cookie like everyone else. it would be a fun experience! only if you want to though, maybe it could get out of control and she knows that's unsafe for both you and her.

her reaction is like "OH COOL!" a few 5 year old questions and then she doesn't look into it much, unless you want to talk about your ability or you want her to talk about it.

Dark Cacao —

"That's quite a dangerous ability, are you able to control it properly?"

the answer to that is no, the phantom won't listen to you, anyway dark cacao isn't really concerned about what you can do but what it can do to you.

you cannot underestimate anybody, nor can you be too comfortable around companions, and he's had bad memories with curses and swords, so he is kind of stiff when you mention it. there's this random part of him sometimes that wonders if the phantom will act up and slice him with a sword.

dark cacao observes the object that controls the phantom, wondering its importance, considering there are multiple of rare objects the phantom could've chosen why this one?

he's pretty chill, but if you tell him that the object got lost or got stolen, all hell will break loose and he'll order his subjects to turn his kingdom upside down, backwards, reversed, whatever just to find it.

his reaction is more of a "I see..." thing, he gets flash backs of war since he's old. he'll be concerned for your wellbeing, but if you're alright he'll be okay. even if companions are not to always be trusted, he wants to make sure his companions (you) are safe too!

Hollyberry —

"Ooh, that's amazing!"

hollyberrys eyes shine like never before, full of curiosity and contagious amounts of excitement.

after seeing the phantom fight in your frail cookie body, she deems you and the phantom as a worthy opponent and, like golden cheese, asks for a battle. she won't pressure you, but she also won't admit defeat. that won't be the last time you hear her asking for a battle, and if you accept win, or lose, hollyberry is giddy after and before the battle.

she wants to see its full potential, but makes sure you're safe too. hollyberry would take you on expeditions with her to various places to see how this snow demon fights, with her fighting along side you.

hollyberry would also ask to see the object that controls it, but becareful she may be high and mighty but she's not slow and steady she might drop it! she'll be looking at it for a while, like she's seeing all the stories it's been through, through one glance.

hollyberry is definitely the one that reacts the most enthusiastic, she's always up for a new adventure and she sees this as an opportunity to learn more about her pal! (you)

Pure Vanilla —

"Fascinating, I've heard of this ability but never seen such in person."

considering pure vanilla is all–knowing he's already seen a bunch of cookies with strange abilities, he's seen yours in one of those library books from back when he was still young!

he knows alot, but not all. there are times where the phantom just straight up controls you to communicate with this guy, I don't know why, but pure vanilla seems to have that nature.

if you're having struggles, like white lily cookie, pure vanilla wants to help you to the best of his abilities. he's known for guiding cookies to the right path, and this doesn't exclude you, even if cookies mark you as dangerous.

he'll tell you all he knows, and make sure the thing that controls it is safe—also this ability is yours, not his, and if you can handle it then he will only support your decisions!

like for example, he will not stop the phantom from attacking enemies, but only shield and tell the allies to back off or becareful around it.

like everyone else, as long as you're okay it's not much of a problem. the phantom doesn't seem hostile to cookies who haven't angered it, so he focuses on the host (you) and make sure you haven't irritated it lately.

his reaction is most the most chill of the bunch, but he does get concerned once in a while when it breaks loose.

— BEASTS

Shadow Milk —

"What can you do for me?"

beasts are evil, this is no surprise to anyone. Shadow Milk wouldn't cause harm on YOU specifically but the things around you. Beasts had live long enough to know alot, so he knew already about what your ability can do.

he's not afraid of the snow demon, but knows others can be, and uses it to scare little cookies playing. "there's this scary cookie with a monster inside of them! they're gonna eat you!"

you're gonna have to stop him before fairy tales of a scary snow demon start popping up, it's his way of teasing you since he has no peace with anybody.

do NOT show him the object that controls it, once you blink he's already taken that and hid it somewhere you won't see. Shadow Milk is very sneaky.

he'd steal the object that the phantom follows orders from, and has let it break free and cause alot of accidents. ones you've felt guilty for, but he won't kill anyone, only fires and house destruction.

unlike pure vanilla, he would not have a nice relationship with that phantom. he'd probably make fun of it by stealing its sword, and/or fight it depending if it would hurt you or not he doesn't want his old pal dying on him! he'd probably be a trigger for it to come out, and if it does come out he'd plan scripts as if he was doing one of his carnival performances.

when you tell him to stop he freaks out, and either stops being all smiley and scare the living crumbs off of you or he cries out and tells you to stop being cruel and let the him have fun. either way he won't stop, but will subtly make his pranks less damaging.

the only time he'd shut up is when he's observing the phantom fight, there's a glint of admire, he likes destruction no matter what type.

his reaction was more of him realising the power you hold, and what he can do with it! (100 crimes would be committed if you don't make/set boundaries.)

Mystic Flour —

" ... "

mystic flour is closed off, and she barely speaks on your ability unless you guys are really close. it may seem like she doesn't care, but trust me she's really intrigued just not to the extent of the others.

she's neutral about the whole thing, and wouldn't use you for bad or let it break free for the joy of wanting it to destroy things. infact she finds it pretty annoying when she just wants peace and quiet.

mystic flour sees the phantom as greedy, and won't listen to any sob backstory of why it controls you. if you show her the object she'll look at it for 5 seconds and then give it back. maybe she knows too much.

fighting or communicating with it is not her forte, she prefers hiding away. she won't listen to the phantom if it begs for a fight, but if YOU specifically ask her for a battle she'll hesitate, but give in.

her reaction is empty, it seems not even that unique demon snow ability of yours can make her care enough to move away.

Burning Spice —

"At last, you're not boring like the other dough!"

you've captured this beasts attention! burning spice wants to destroy the phantom, he would definitely want to fight it. actually, not a want, he WILL fight it no matter what you say.

each fight with you/demon snow entertains him, because you/it can catch up with his speed and be as ruthless as him. he does remember you're but a frail cookie made from dough, and only ever fights it once it's out and you seem healthy/fired up to fight. this is not a boundary (although that would be nice) it's him preventing you from dying so he won't get bored.

he secretly admires it's strength, but always makes degrading remarks to it. "weak!", "I can do better", "I will destroy you!"

speaking of destroy he will destroy the object that controls it unless you never let him hold that thing. it's impulsive behavior and he has no self-control if it doesn't harm him, himself.

his reaction is terrifying, not for him, but for you!

Silent salt and Eternal Sugar aren't here...

[nanaminsmoon]

5 minutes ~ e.jaegar x goodgirl!reader. mdni. 18+

a/n: i hate the ending for this one, but if i didn't post it now then it'd be in my drafts for years so she had to go lol.

wc: 2976 + not proofread properly.

the saying ‘opposites attract’ was coined for you and eren, with him being the night to your day. he represented the dark cesspools of society that your parents had raised you to stay very weary of. in fact, if there was a textbook definition for the type of boy you’d been warned to stay far, far away from, beside it would be a collage of eren’s mugshots. but first meetings with no knowledge of each other’s histories was the intersection of the paths you’d always considered to be parallel; perhaps walking beside each other, but never converging. and their merging would be caused by the fateful day you crossed the authoritarian line your parents had drawn very boldly since you were very young.

the magnetic field surrounding the young man had been unbeknownst to you, but he was the south to your north pole, reeling you in all night until you inevitably met in the midst of the crowd of moving bodies. you’d been second-guessing your decision to agree to attend ymir’s party with your friends, but any dubious thought in your mind dispersed the second your eyes met eren’s lidded ones. even with the dimmed lighting, you could sense them scanning you—leaving blazing traces of want in their wake. you’d hoped the embarrassment boiling inside of you wasn’t obvious, but it had set your body alight—its heat emanating off your figure to waft into eren’s smug face.

if ‘trouble’ had a look, and smell, it would be eren. it’d have his face—inviting yet seemingly cunning, and unreadable in its arrangement of his perfect features. it’d possess his ability to send a militia of chills up your spine the same way too—unsettlement marching up your spine at the potent smell of cigarette smoke, cologne, and whatever alcohol was in that red solo cup. magnetism brewed in eren’s chest, traversing through his bloodstream to reach the point of his fingertips that lightly traced the exposed skin on your arm. once it’d transfer to you, glances were no longer stolen, and neither were dances—both were given freely. and, alongside the pair, would go your moral compass, making you unrecognisable even to yourself as you moved with him—your ass pushing into his growing bulge. the heat transferring at the point where your bodies met would cancel out that of his burning gaze on you. that and his feverish hands grabbing onto your hips, catching everything you threw back on him. all the while, a cigarette would sit comfortably between his lips, grey smoke slipping past it to escape his mouth every time he groaned at the feeling of you brushing against him.

the newfound courage cloaked you, blurring your presence in the crowd of moving figures thus making it impossible for your friends to find you. sense regained, they stood at the door all ready to go home, but ‘home’ hadn’t been a thought in your mind since the smoke eren blew into your mouth, ascended into your brain to cloud your sense of better judgment. there would be a moment where your eyes would dart to them as they beckoned for you to join them, but eren would catch on quickly. and his fingers, hugging his cigarette between them, would wrap themselves around your chin as they turned you to face him,

“gimme 5 more minutes”, his cheek would be against yours as he spoke into your ear, and you’d nod like a fool as he smiled at you and took your hand in his, leading you upstairs.

and five minutes is all it’d take for the barrier holding back your tears to collapse unceremoniously, making way for the stream to coat the pillow cases of ymir’s parents’ bed. the combination of your wanton desperation, pleasure, and makeup would stain the material pressed up against your face—adhering it to your moist skin in a way that made your conscience pulsate with guilt. but the once clear-cut lines on your morality would fade with every collision of eren’s skin against yours. the moments leading up to this position had gotten you used to the way eren’s fingertips dug into your hips and, though similar to that of when you were dancing together, this time he could clearly see the way your flesh recoiled when your skin met his. finally, he could clearly hear the small, squeals leaving your mouth as his dick bullied its way in and out of you, leaving you a fucked out, dishevelled shell of yourself. and that shell that would soon be filled to the point of leakage when your walls tightening around him, unexpectedly stole eren’s release from him. and, somehow, five minutes would turn into two hours, until you were both dragged back into reality by heavy knocks on the door.

call it naivety, or wishful thinking that your actions would never catch up to you, but you had expected to never see eren ever again after that night. but the following months would be spent interweaved in each other. labels weren’t yet decided, so they changed depending on the day; on random evenings, you were eren’s alibi—voice shaking as you lied for him, assuring his parole officer that you’d been watching movies together when, in reality, you hadn’t even known where he was. and, on saturdays, your lap served as his most comfortable pillow as the incomprehensible words you read from your favourite book fell onto his face from above him.

but skipped classes, and unexplainable disappearances meant you soon found yourself under heavy surveillance. from being driven to and from uni, to not being allowed to meet friends, and being basically trapped in your home. the joy shared between eren and yourself had been for you two only. seemingly, the portions hadn’t been distributed evenly meaning that your friends and family sat with plates full of disdain and worry, prepared for a boy they didn’t even know. all they saw of eren was his effect on you; increased callousness, tanking grades, and constant escapades that rendered you a ghost floating in and out of their lives. and soon there’d be a fury-fuelled war waged between two sides; one side that hated eren for ruining you, and the other that hated your family for taking you from his grasp just as he was about to pull you from heaven into his unprincipled clutches.

unfortunately for your friends and family, armageddon couldn’t stop eren from trying to reach you. no matter how many times you denied him, he’d try his luck at getting to you through any means necessary; he’d call you, text at stupid hours of the night asking you sneak out, this boy even disguised himself as a delivery driver just to see you. but every single advance was (very reluctantly!) declined; calls rejected, texts ignored, and, after gathering yourself, you’d tell him that you hadn’t ordered anything and he had the wrong house. bottom lip in between your teeth, to combat the tears hanging over your waterline, you’d closed the door, taken a deep breath, before making your way upstairs to text him an essay of an apology.

that day, you forbode eren from coming to you but, as anyone who knew eren would tell you, he’d never been good at following instructions. so you’d be doing your uni work, when you’d hear loud ass music playing outside. expecting more self-control from eren, there wouldn’t even be a second where you thought it’d be him. even when incessant honking began, you’d ignore it and continue trying to replenish your plummeting gpa. and you’d succeed at keeping focused. until you heard a small knock on your door.

“y/n, you know that guy?”, your brother asked you.

“what guy?”, a finger pointing to the window would be your brother’s answer. and your limbs would freeze at the sight of the black hellcat outside, but they’d be quick in moving you once you saw eren’s car door start to open. by the time you opened your front door, eren was walking up your driveway and his determined gaze would soften once it landed on you. that was before he saw the frustrated presentation of your features as you marched towards him, then he’d just chuckle at you. both hands flat on his back, you’d push eren back to his car as he laughed and questioned you. but he’d get no answers until you shoved him against the car—his back facing your house—and started lecturing him,

“why are you here?”, you’d chide through clenched teeth.

“what, i can’t come see you?”, he’d ask, leaning on his car and reaching for your hand. stress would have you moving your hands from his own, as you rolled your eyes at him.

“not at my family home, eren, no!”, you’d let out an exasperated sigh, “are you out of your damn mind?! coming here and making all this noise, just because you ‘want to see me’?”,

“i miss us, y/n”, he’d say, eyes flittering all over your face as they examined your vexed expression. at this point, the anger was just a shield protecting you from his words because you knew that as soon as they penetrated your skin to enter your heart, you’d fold like a damn lawn chair. and, opportunistic as he was, eren would take the time you spent processing his confession as a chance to get sit his fingertips, one-by-one, on your hips. too deep in thought, you’d have no time to react before he pulled you closer to him.

“not now, eren.”, you’d instruct, placing your hands on top of his.

“you ain’t miss me?”, he’d tilt his head.

pretending not to want eren did nothing but spur him on. mainly because he knew that there was a mutual longing keeping you two connected. as harsh as you tried to be, eren could feel your internal conflict in your movements—the sour irritation in your words was no match for the way your body instinctually yielded to his touch. it’d be still as eren’s arms enveloped you, his heart joyous at the feeling of your body weight slowly increasing—your every appendage relaxing onto him. naturally, he’d grow smug and pull back to slyly observe the way he knew you’d chase his lips, just like every other time he stopped kissing you, and he’d grin to himself.

“i did, but not here.”, you’d shake your head, “not like this”, you’d say. and, in a successful attempt to still your head, eren’s hands would cup your cheeks before he gently pressed his lips against yours. there’d be a split second where your body would try and move you away from him but, as soon as his tongue gently grazed your bottom lip, you’d neglect your surroundings—hands massaging the back of his neck, as you pulled him closer.

“why not?”, he’d ask, quietly. his fervid gaze possessed enough heat to turn you into a patch of liquid, very similar to the one in the front of your underwear. and, though composure wouldn’t come easy to you, you’d grapple for it anyways, moving from him and ignoring the smirk on his face as he watched you.

©2023 nanaminsmooninc. All rights reserved. You may not copy, reproduce, or modify works without permission.

“you know why, now get off me before i scream and get the police called on your dumbass”, the feigned innocence would break and eren would outright laugh at your threat. enthralled eyes would watch the joy spread all over his face, the feeling contagious as you slowly felt the corners of your lips rise. that’d be before you realised where you were, and quickly moved your hand to cover his mouth to muffle the bellowing sound.

“i wouldn’t mind hearing you scream.”, he’d say after removing your hand from his face, “it’d make driving here worth it.”, he teased. and, once again, you’d be falling into his deep green eyes, beguiled by his intoxicating gaze. reminders of reality would only come when a quick flicker of your eyes to the building behind eren’s car revealed your front door opening. equally as curious as the young boy stood at the door, eren would turn but you’d quickly shoo your brother back inside, originally aiming to follow him.

“just gimme 5 minutes”, a low voice would ask, stopping you in your tracks. eren’s recklessness always seemed to rub off on you. perhaps remnants of it latched onto you when he held you close to himself, or maybe his lips spoke it to you as he kissed you. but, without fail, it’d rid you of everything you thought you knew about yourself. and it’d also have you following him into the backseat of his car.

though it was never expressed to you, you were just as much of a forbidden fruit for eren as he was for you. a chair occupied by thoughts of your chaste nature had anxiously sat in his heart, as the thought of his sodden fingerprints being the ones to pervert you spun around his mind. that was until eren placed your hands on the back of said chair, bending you over it and making his peace with sending you back to your parents with his depraved handprints, and debauched lip prints singed all over your body. forbidden as you may have been, eren couldn’t get enough of you. you were a banned berry that he couldn’t help but sink his teeth into, letting the taste of you reside in every corner of his mouth—your juices slipping out of the corners of his lips as you squirmed, and scratched at his leather seats. no more than a few minutes passed with you on eren’s lap, his lips busy marking your neck and chest—any regard for your parents’ reactions was absolved the moment your fingers intertwined at his nape to lightly tug at his hair. the only thought on his mind for weeks had been the taste of you, so he’d wasted no time in moving his lips from you and laying you flat on your back on his backseats. and your comprehension of any moment that followed that was wiped out by the tsunami of pleasure that flooded your conscious mind, as well as the white flash that accompanied it stealing your vision. the last thing you remembered was eren’s eyes—locked on yours—as his teeth plucked at your panties, pulling them down your thighs.

for most, self-reflection would be triggered by the fact that their partner’s friends and family hated them with a scorching passion, but not eren. he welcomed the scrutiny with open arms because, as toxic as it sounded, he had learned to love being a terrible influence. he luxuriated in being the guy your friends begged you to leave, those conversations always ending in teary arguments wherein you’d have to fight to justify your want for him. he loved knowing that even as every mouth around you told you to stay far away from him, his devious one always brought you right back. that, sweet as you were, you were addicted to the nasty way he fucked you; bent over in his car, or anywhere he could hide you from prying eyes. and the fact that, with every load he filled you with, droplets of his identity had been inserted into you with all of them being preserved perfectly, with not an ounce of alteration. whether that be his attitude, or his need to fuck the sanity out of you, you resembled eren more and more with every connection of his tip and your cervix. slowly, your vocabulary had matured to match his and you had started using words he’d never expect to hear from such a pretty, innocent-looking face,

“ffuck, i’ve missed this dick so much, eren”, you’d keened, ridding eren of any rational thought. his hips would hasten on their own at the sound of your lascivious wording, deepening every breath your lungs fought to take. and, as good as you felt, corrupting a good girl had never been something eren had wanted to do. usually, he liked his girls experienced, but you had a charm about you.

he liked the way your eyes glimmered at him as he spoke to you, and the adorable way you remembered small details about him. after a while, he began enjoying the way he was disintegrating every single value your parents had instilled in you, as well as you just letting him. but no more than the way you moaned his name, and made lust-filled promises that disgraced the parents who had worked so hard to raise you,

“i’m all yours, ‘ren, i belong to nobody but you”, you’d cried out, and he’d gently kiss your cheek. the romantic work of his lips, was in direct opposition to the cruel way his dick hit that spongy spot inside you, coaxing your release from you and refusing to stop.

“i know, baby, you ain’t gotta tell me. i know. you’re all mine, and can’t nobody do shit about it.”, he'd reply. and he was right. because, as long as he made you feel the way he did, eren was untouchable. whether that be for 5 minutes, or for the rest of your life.

[bellasprettywords]

Crappy day at the office (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: This time I bring to you a little conforting one shot, as I had a really bad day at work and all I craved was some lasagna and cuddles

This is not proofread yet, srry, you guys

My masterlist

Warnings: Fluff, and this is kinda lame, I'm just tired and needed comfort

Word count: 962ish bc there are emojis

Being an Assistant District Attorney was all fun and games, until you had your ass handed to you in Court. Sometimes it felt like no matter how much work you put into a case, if the evidence is not completely convincing, and reasonable doubt just shatters the case you so much time and effort you had put in.

After the disaster at Court, the way back to the District Attorney’s Office was hell: there was a huge road block which caused a traffic jam that made you late for a meeting at with your boss; the printer wasn’t working properly, so you had to struggled when printing some files you needed for a deposition, and you still had at least six pending report for the day. Your head started spiraling, but your train of thought seemed interrupted when your boyfriend’s name popped on your phone screen:

“Hey Spence! What’s up?” you tried to answer as casually as you could

“How’s the most beautiful woman at the District Attorneys is doing?” Spencer said, and you could hear the smile that was forming into his lips as he was talking

“The day has been hectic, I don’t think I’ll be home early today; what about you? How’s San Francisco?” you asked hoping your boyfriend’s day at work would take your mind off from the crappy day you were having

“San Fran was great, I mean, it’s great, but actually, I should get back to work. Talk to you later?” Spencer said in kind of rush, which weirded you about a little, but you didn’t mind, at the end of the day, Spencer quirks were a huge part of what made you fall for him

“Alright then, I love you” you said with the hint of a smile curling up on your lips

“I love you too, honey” he said, blowing one last kiss before hanging up the call

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Finally, after a day that felt immensely long, you were finally pulling up into your apartment building, all you could think about was taking a long, hot shower, eating some takeout, and finishing the day watching reality tv to apace your mind. The way up to your apartment you were just eager to call your boyfriend, hoping this time he had more time to ramble about your crappy day, sure Spencer always tried to rationalize your problems with logical solutions, but you just needed to hear his voice to feel at ease.

You were clicking the key into your door, when suddenly, you realized there was a lovely smell coming from your apartment and with a huge grin, you opened the door to see your boyfriend, mighty Doctor Spencer Reid, struggling to take lasagna out from the oven without burning himself or making a mess.

“Hey… youuuuu” you said rushing to hug your boyfriend and you couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear

“How are you, beautiful?” Spencer hugged you back and you couldn’t help yourself to burry your face in the crock of his neck and take a deep breath, inhaling his scent of muck and coffee “I flew in here when I first called you, but I could tell something was wrong from your tone, so I wanted to do something nice for you”

“Damn it with the profiler abilities” you said, laughing playfully and merging into a sweet kiss

“What happened today? You sounded really odd?” Spencer’s voice was filled with concern, and you could see it building it up on his beautiful eyes

“Nothing, everything, it was one of those days, when everything just goes wrong” you started rambling about everything that went wrong through the day, and nothing filled your heart with more love, than seeing Spencer paying full attention to you, memorizing every detail and nodding empathetically sporadically. You rambled and rambled, while Spencer held you and caressed you, immediately making you feel better.

“… So, that’s enough rambling about me, and my tragic life, when I was coming into the apartment I saw a lasagna being taking out of the oven, so I’m guessing it’s for me?” you said trying to wrap it up, and eager to try your boyfriend’s cooking

“As a matter of fact, I did prepare a lasagna, and I’m excited for you to try it, so let’s sit down and have dinner” Spencer said excitedly, serving one generous plate of lasagna while you poured yourself a glass of wine “Here you go ma’am” he said placing the plate in front of you

“Thank you, very much!” you said placing a kiss into Spencer’s cheek; you watched him placing his plate and sitting down, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you had gotten with Spencer; he really was the whole package, he was crazy smart, sweet, considerate, and sometimes you felt that his only motivation was making you happy.

“What are you spiraling about?” Spencer said, taking you out of your train of thought

“Nothin’, I was just thinking how lucky I am to have such an amazing boyfriend” you said, grinning from ear to ear, ready to dig in on the lasagna; you watched as Spencer blushed and chuckled like a kid, so you said the magic words both you and your boyfriend loved the most to hear: “I love you”

“I love you even more, now dig in and tell me how amazing my lasagna is” Spencer said with a smug smile and you decided to comply, trying what was definitely one of the best lasagnas of your life, because of course, it was made by the man that you love

Sure, your day had been crappy at the office, but with a boyfriend as affectionate, caring and understandable as Spencer was, you knew even in your most difficult days, you’d be okay.

This is a little shorter than usual, and defenetly is over the place, but I just needed a little fluff for my night