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lqveharrington · 5 months ago

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Family Tree | D.M.

summary: Eleven years after the second wizarding war, you find yourself making lifelong decisions on platform 9¾ once more.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x fem!reader

includes: a LONG fic, daughter’s name is melody, talks about the war, abandonment, pregnancy, implied sex, cursing, hufflepuff slander (i’m a hufflepuff, i’m sorry), Pansy being a fun aunt & friend, teddy lupin mention being the coolest second cousin, melody is a mischievous child, teddy doesn’t like his god father, cursing, mainly angst with some fluff

a/n: i love him, your honor (he was truly my first love) this took way longer than i thought it would, so sorry 🙏

Years after you fought alongside Harry Potter to defend Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding World from Voldemort’s wrath, you found yourself packing trunks for Hogwarts once more. However, the trunks you packed were no longer yours. They contained unhoused robes and new textbooks that weren’t marked with your doodles and annotations. The pet carrier didn’t hold your own owl, but instead your daughter’s snowy owl.

Eleven years old. It was finally time for your daughter to attend Hogwarts.

The entire morning — the entire week — she would go on about finally being able to learn the spells and charms that protected the witches and wizards from evil. Just like you.

When you held her hand tightly to enter platform 9¾, she would continue to talk about seeing all the ghosts and paintings that were mentioned in all your stories. Of course, you never told her all the adventures you endured. She didn’t need to know where the Room of Requirements was.

“—And Moaning Myrtle! Is she as annoying as you said she was? I hope she isn’t. I want to ask her so many questions about you—“

“Melody, my love, you can’t bother the ghosts all the time. Hogwarts is a school.” You run your fingers through her platinum blonde hair and smile playfully when she scrunched her nose at you. You dusted off her shoulders and tilted your head, “What?”

“But it’s a magical school, mum. Shouldn’t I be able to ask questions if I have any?” She challenged you with a raised brow, pushing your hand away and adjusting her perfect hair — much like her father. She always wanted to be absolutely flawless, even when presented in front of you.

Your heart clenched at how similar Melody was to her father. Her smile and her mannerisms were all the same. It felt like you were eleven again and meeting him for the first time. The only difference between him and Melody was her eyes. She was born with your eyes — the ones filled with so much emotion with every single look.

Glancing down at your watch, you sighed and cocked your head to the side, fixating your gaze on the train that once took you to a place where you found everything and everyone you loved. Where you found him.

“Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be back every chance I get.” Melody took your hand in hers and squeezed, noticing your far off look. Her thumb traced the silver ring you wore on your left hand. She never knew what the M stood for on your ring — she always assumed it was for her name.

“I promise I’ll send an owl every week.”

“I know you will.” You pressed a kiss to the top of her head before your eyes caught a book being dropped by a young boy — who looked an awful lot like Tonks and Remus. Shaking your head, you bent to pick the book up and handed it to your daughter. “Can you quickly run and hand this to that young man? But come straight back. I want to properly say goodbye before you leave me forever.”

Melody rolled her eyes at your antics, but nothing could hide the smile that came with it. She made swift steps over to the boy before he boarded the train, eyes widening curiously when he faced her. The boy’s hair turned a bright pink as he thanked her, a sheepish smile gracing his lips.

“Are you a Metamorphmagus?” Melody whispered in excitement and watched his hair turned an electric blue. Her grin widened, recalling what you told her a while ago. “My mum says my aunt was one!”

The boy finally took a good look at Melody, a light bulb going off in his head when he realized who he was talking to. He recognized her the Black Family tree back at 12 Grimmauld Place. He opened his mouth to ask her who she was when his friends pulled him into the train without a single glance to whoever he was talking to.

Melody furrowed her brows in confusion before huffing, perfectly styled hair whipping behind her as she left to find you before boarding the express herself. She thought all Hufflepuffs were supposed to be sweet, but these Hufflepuffs seemed to ignore her like she was nothing but an itty bitty fairy.

She hoped she wasn’t put into Hufflepuff.

“My mum was one of the hero’s at Hogwarts.” She muttered to herself and — once again — flicked a piece of her blonde hair behind her shoulder, narrowly avoiding a collision of trolleys to her left. “I’ll tell her all about this.”

Melody made a quick turn to where she last left you before slamming into someone, nearly toppling over from the sheer force. She caught the person’s arm and yanked herself back before she could fall on her arse, mentally cursing herself for not looking at her surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She muttered and dusted herself off from invisible dust, looking up at the person only to find a man staring at her with a shocked expression. Was he really that offended by it? He was an adult and she was merely eleven.

The man blinked before shaking his head, schooling his shocked expression to one of nonchalance instead. He looked around and tilted his head at the girl standing in front of him, examining her face like she was someone he recognized before. This girl reminded him of someone he used to know. Someone he used to love dearly.

Melody pursed her lips and rocked on the heel of her Mary Jane’s, avoiding his gaze. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with his staring, but she wasn’t comfortable either. Just as Melody was about to excuse herself from the man, she heard your familiar voice ring out, making her visibly relax despite your tone.

“Where were you? I told you to come straight back.” You rushed over to her and ran your fingers through her hair once more, unaware of your surroundings. You were so worried she had left before saying goodbye and it absolutely haunted you.

She looked back at the blonde man behind you for a split second before tilting her head down to the floor. Melody knew that you were waiting for an answer — she just had to suck up the embarrassment.

“I was coming to find you when I knocked into that man.” She gestured behind you and held back a whine when you tilted her head to check her for any cuts and bruises.

Melody made eye contact with the same person she knocked into again and hid her face in your jumper, hating that all the attention kept going back to her. She felt scrutinized under his gaze.

“Mum.”

You sigh softly and turn your attention to the man, still carding your fingers through Melody’s hair. You kept your eyes trained on her until she relaxed, finally looking up to meet the said person when years of memories hit you like a freight train.

“I’m so sorry about Melody. She usually isn’t this distracted — Draco?”

Your throat closed up at the sight of him — Draco Malfoy.

It was your Draco. The one who promised to love you his entire life; the one who promised to never leave your side; the one who left you alone with nothing but a broken heart and an unborn daughter.

Draco swallowed thickly and looked away. He felt horrible leaving you alone all these years, but he couldn’t figure out how to explain to you why he left so abruptly. Especially when you were about to drop your daughter — his daughter — off to Hogwarts.

Everything felt so overwhelming for the small family.

The whistling of the Hogwarts' Express immediately caught Melody's ears, her eyes widening at how little time she had left with you before departing for the next few months until holiday.

“Mum, the express is going to leave soon.” Melody’s voice snapped you out of your stupor, her small hand squeezing your ringed hand — which didn’t escape Draco’s gaze.

You cupped her face with both hands, kissing her forehead. This would be the first time you would be away from her for so long and you didn’t know if you could handle the separation.

“When you have time, send me an owl right away. Include your house in the parchment, alright? Be safe and make smart decisions.“ You instructed.

“I will.” She locked a pinky around yours before wrapping her arms around your neck, breathing in your familiar scent one last time. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you too, my sweet girl.” You held her tightly and made the horrible mistake of meeting Draco’s eyes. You looked away faster than he could mark the emotion in your eyes. “Now get on that train before it leaves without you.”

Melody ran on the train and found a compartment occupied by a couple of other first years, smiling when you waved to her as the Hogwarts’ Express left platform 9¾.

“You didn’t tell me you were pregnant.” Draco spoke and pushed his hair back — the initial shock finally settling in his chest.

You sigh and turn to face him, arms crossed over your chest. Although it had been years, the warmth from his gaze still filled you and you hated it. You hated that all the love you had for him was still stored away.

“Why are you here, Draco?”

He narrowed his eyes at your deflection but answered truthfully. He might as well begin with the truth before anything else.

“I’m the auror assigned to protect the wizards and witches at this platform.” Draco responded before glancing at his watch, frowning at the time it read back. “I’ll be back—“

You put your hand up and stopped his excuses, shaking your head and frowning. Pulling out your own wand, you pointed it at his chest and glared. You would never let yourself be fooled twice.

“That’s what you’re good at doing, Draco.” You tapped your wand on his chest, your heart screaming to stop but your mind blocked out every emotion you felt for him besides pure rage. “You’re good at leaving. That’s all I know about you, and that’s all Melody will ever know about her father.”

Draco’s hands clenched by his sides but made no effort to stop you. He could tell — your eyes betraying your every emotion — that you needed to reprimand him. He could see the way you wanted to scream and shout everything you kept bottled in your mind. Every single memory you had with him building up, ready to explode with any wrong move.

“Love—“

“You have no right.” You whisper at the nickname and shake your head at him, apparating away.

Melody watched in trepidation as first years were sorted into a house after Professor McGonagall read off their names from a long roll of parchment. Each and every one of them grinning brightly at the rest of the student body when the Sorting Hat screamed their respective houses out. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long to be sorted.

After all, her mother blessed her with a last name that wouldn’t take ages to be called up.

“Bellemont, Melody!”

She beamed at the professors as she made her up onto the wooden stool, flicking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her shoulder as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her head. Melody wasn’t sure what to expect when the hat fell, but she knew she would rather move to America than be sorted in Hufflepuff like that group of boys she met at the station. They were all rude except for the Metamorphmagus she held an actual conversation with.

“A Malfoy who isn’t a Malfoy.” The Sorting Hat murmured to itself — and knowingly — Melody. “Clearly, you haven’t been raised with the pureblooded status quo. Perhaps your mother’s doing… But you have your father’s confidence and pride…”

Melody’s face twisted in confusion at the hat’s words. Who was Malfoy? Was that her father? Maybe her grandmother’s previous last name? She didn’t understand the hat, and as if it read her mind — which it could — clarified for the young witch.

“Your father was a broken soul.” The hat tutted and swished around her head like it was revisiting old memories of her parents. “Your mother wormed her way into his heart until she mended him.”

She blinked and looked over at McGonagall, who merely smiled at her. Melody pursed her lips and looked out into the crowd, hoping to find any kind of familiar face. Unfortunately, all her aunts and uncles decided to have children only a few years ago.

Melody frowned as the hat continued to make random comments about her parents, ultimately boring her from the ceremony. She wasn’t sure what the hat was going on about you and her father, but she was sure to send an owl to you soon.

“Nevertheless, your father and mother were in the same house.” The Sorting Hat commented before shouting its decision for everyone in the Great Hall to hear. “SLYTHERIN!”

Melody gave the applauding hall a tight-lipped smile as she walked over to the Slytherin table, finding an empty seat beside an enthusiastic prefect. She was ecstatic to be in the same house as her mother, of course, but now only one thing circled her mind. She didn’t feel the need to ever know about this before. You were all she ever needed. Yet the Sorting Hat planted something in her head, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Who was her father? And who is Malfoy?

“I’ve been getting the same question back from Melody in every single letter. This is starting to get ridiculous.” You throw the recent letter you received from Melody on the kitchen counter, rubbing your face in frustration. “What the hell happened at Hogwarts for her to suddenly be interested in who her father is?”

On a normal day, Melody would never pester you about who her father was. Now, it felt like you got a letter everyday about who her father was. You weren’t sure what the best move was. Either way you went, everything would change drastically.

Pansy shrugged and read the letter, raising her brows at the perfect cursive that could rival Draco’s. “Maybe it’s time you should tell her. It’s been eleven years, and she’s old enough to know about him.“

You spun the stupid Malfoy ring on your finger and huffed. “It’s not about how old she is. I just don’t want her to know that Draco essentially abandoned her. Granted, he left before I could even tell him.” You glared at the silver ring. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull the piece of jewelry off. “Besides, she already met Draco. It’ll complicate the entire situation if I try to explain it now.”

“Wait — when did Melody meet Draco?” She furrowed her brows and sat up at the new information. Pansy squinted at your expression before gasping, nearly jumping out of her chair at the realization. “At the platform?”

“Yes.” You groan and bury your head in your hands. Even if you did want Melody to know about her father at some point, you didn’t want it to be like that. She doesn’t deserve such an abrupt change right before she hopped on the express for Hogwarts. “Melody bumped into him trying to find me.”

Pansy sighed and took your hands in hers, watching your reaction very closely. “It’s better that you tell her about Draco rather than someone else tell her. I don’t doubt you’ll make the right call about all of this, but please tell her sooner rather than later.” Pansy squeezed your hands and sent you a small smile.

You bit your bottom lip and glanced toward the moving photograph you hung on the wall. It was a picture of you, Pansy, and Blaise right before Draco’s final quidditch game. You were laughing at something Blaise said, but the photo only played that far into the memory before resetting.

Pansy caught your gaze and waved her wand over to the frame, changing the length of the moving photograph. Instead of you laughing at something Blaise said, you were pulling an unamused Draco to sit beside you for the photo.

Your heart clenched at the sight, finally giving into your daughter’s pleads.

“I’ll tell Melody when she comes home for the holidays. I don’t want her to find out via owl.” You sigh and wave your hand toward the photograph, setting it back to the way it was originally.

The photo was taunting you to look back over, but your fragile heart couldn’t take it anymore.

You could always tell yourself you wanted nothing to do with Draco, but everyone knew that you would run back if you found the perfect reason to. Maybe Melody was your perfect reason.

“Melody, wait!”

The girl turned to the sound of her name — blonde locks flawlessly following through — and her arms tightened around the textbooks she held. Out of all the people at Hogwarts, she least expected to see the boy from the train station jogging toward her. She looked behind him for his friends — if you could even call them friends — but it was just the boy. The Metamorphmagus boy.

“Yes?” She tilted her head and creased her eyebrows when his hair turned a horrid shade of green. The color made her feel uneasy, forcing her to wait until it faded back to its original state to speak. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know your — er — name.”

The boy blinked before sticking his hand out, shaking her hand profusely. “I’m Teddy Lupin. I’m so sorry about my friends back on the express months ago. They found an unoccupied compartment and wanted to claim it before someone else took it.”

Melody slowly nodded and glanced at her leather watch, frowning when she realized she was already seconds late to a study session with a couple of first years she befriended. She pursed her lips and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Was that all you needed me for? I need to study for a charms exam.”

“Well — uhm — I don’t want you to not study, but I wanted to ask you if this was you. If it’s not, it looks scarily like you and has the exact same name. Except the last name matches my uncle’s — “

Melody barely processed the rest of his rambling as Teddy pulled out a photograph of a wall she couldn’t recognize. There were bits and pieces of the wall that were burnt and faces that were skeletons rather than perfectly painted — perfectly detailed — faces. It seemed like the wall went on forever until she glanced at the very bottom right.

Melody’s breath lodged in her throat as she read the last name painted beside her legal first name. Her eyes followed the family tree branch up to find — not her mother — but her father’s face painted on the wall. Although your face wasn’t painted, your name was still written underneath one—

“Draco Malfoy.” She whispered and looked up at Teddy with a shocked expression, hands gripping the photograph in confusion.

There was the last name the Sorting Hat kept muttering.

It was the same man she met at the platform months ago. The color of his hair — and the way you acted around him — should’ve been a dead giveaway that he was indeed her father. Melody shook her head and gave Teddy back the photo, determined to understand why you chose to hide this from her for so long.

“You wouldn’t mind helping me figure the rest of this out, would you?”

The wind breezing through platform 9¾ from the Hogwarts’ Express sent your hair flying through the air and your arms tightening around yourself. You were picking Melody up for the holidays and made the awful decision to not bring a stupid coat — thinking you could get out within minutes.

Silently cursing from how cold it was, you watch the students stream out of the train until you saw the platinum blonde hair you knew belonged to your daughter. Instantly, her eyes met yours and she ran. She ran until she knocked herself into your arms, nearly toppling the both of you over.

“Hi, mum.” She murmured into your neck and pulled herself impossibly closer. She tucked her chin in your shoulder, letting herself melt in your arms. “I missed you.”

You blinked away suppressed tears and kissed the side of her head. You didn’t realize how much you missed your sweet girl until she was in your arms again. “I missed you too, my love.”

You adjusted her Slytherin scarf — proudly, you might add — around her neck before pressing a kiss in her hair. You would make the most out of the two weeks you had with her if it was the last thing you did.

The commotion of the platform left the both of you unfazed as you went to grab her trunk from the express. You shrunk the trunk before tucking it away in your pocket, sending Melody a grin when she rolled her eyes at you. But as you went to leave the platform, Melody tugged you back in place with wide eyes.

You furrowed your brows and stared at her with a confused expression, hands ready to grab your wand in case she saw something that was potentially threatening. “What—?”

“Melody!” A boy ran over to your daughter and put a hand up as he took deep breaths, hair flashing many different colors before settling on purple. “I couldn’t find you after you left the compartment.”

You tilted your head at the sudden arrival of a boy before recognizing the face. You could recognize that face anywhere. After all, he was a spitting image of Remus and Tonks.

“Mum, this is Teddy Lupin.” Melody gestured to the tall boy and pushed up on her tippy toes to look past him, a small frown tugging at her lips.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Teddy.” You shake his hand and gently pull Melody back, eyeing her suspiciously before speaking to the young boy once more. “I haven’t seen you since you were an itty bitty baby.”

Teddy felt his heart kick up at the thought of you knowing him before now. You must’ve known him from when he was a mere baby. You probably knew his parents and who his parents were.

“You knew my parents?” He breathed with eyes shimmering with interest.

“Of course, I did. Your father taught me in my third year, and I absolutely adored your mother.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sighed, shaking away the thought of him being orphaned at such a young age. You would forever curse Voldemort for destroying so many families. “How are your studies going, Teddy? I heard—”

“Must we explain everything, mum?” Melody whined and interrupted your friendly demeanor. She didn’t want to stay at the platform any longer than you, but she needed to be here until he showed up, and she didn’t want to spend all that time listening to you being extra polite. It felt weird.

“Did you bring—?”

“He’s making his way over.” Teddy waved his hand in the air and rolled his eyes, slight annoyance filling them. Not because of her but because of his uncle.

He seemed to be taking his sweet time trying to find Teddy after he all but ran toward Melody the second he saw her blonde hair over crowds of reunited families. Although, he had to admit that his uncle was far better on time management than his god father. Harry Potter could save the entire wizarding world yet he still was late to all of Teddy’s milestones.

“He’s making his way through the crowds, although he was quite skeptic on why I suddenly asked him about dinner.”

You looked between the two and knitted your brows together. You knew Melody invited someone over for dinner, but you didn’t expect another person. So who was the other?

Before either of the two could speak, you interrupted with a stern tone. “Him who?”

“Ted, you can’t wander off and not tell me who we’re going to have dinner with — Oh, fuck me.” Draco caught up to his nephew, who he found standing beside the woman he loved all these years. He didn’t think running into you twice at the platform in one year would even be possible.

“Shit.” You mutter and quickly avert your eyes from staring at his disheveled figure, forcing your heart to steady itself.

Looking down at the two children, you crossed your arms and raised a brow. You couldn’t help but think the both of them planned it — and by the looks of their guilty faces — you knew you were right.

“What did you two do?”

Teddy folded before Melody could even utter a single syllable. He jabbed a finger in her direction as his hair turned a bright pink. “Melody did it.”

“Gee, thanks.” The said girl pushed his hand away from her face and met your questioning gaze. She knew she shouldn’t have surprised either of you, but she wanted the truth without you stepping on eggshells every single time. “Uhm…”

You tilted your head and waited for her to continue, feeling Draco’s looming presence right beside you. He was equally as confused by the ambush but was willing to listen to his daughter.

Melody nervously played with the ends of her hair before spilling everything, shutting her eyes tightly when she heard how selfish her plan truly was. If something horrible came out of this, it would’ve been her fault that you were upset and her father would never want to see her again.

“I just really want to know the truth! Teddy showed me the Black Family Tree a while ago and — well — I saw me on there connected to who I suppose my father is. And when I realized it was the same person we saw here, I knew I had to find a way to see him again. I want to know who my dad is, I want to really know him.”

Draco’s face twisted into surprise and looked over at Teddy for confirmation only to whip his head back to Melody.

“And your name was written underneath his, mum.”

Instinctively, you hid your left hand under your arm and bit the inside of your cheek. Though you weren’t officially married to Draco, his family signet indicated that you were promised to one another. Whether you decided to continue with the marriage or not wasn’t a controlling factor.

“You know he’s your father, what else is there to say?”

Melody peeled her eyes open and frowned. You were getting so defensive and she still didn’t know why you never told her about her father. Even Draco looked hurt by your words.

“Why did you never tell me?” She spoke softly — afraid that the only thing she’s ever known could fall apart in an instant. She loved you, but what you kept from her seemed so unfair.

“I promise I was going to tell you this week.” You matched her tone and pursed your lips when you saw her eyes swimming with sadness.

Melody shifted her attention to her father and crossed her arms, tilting her chin up with the same confidence he had at her age. “Did you come to the station on purpose?”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head, tucking his hands into his front pockets, fidgeting from habit. He hated confrontation. “No, I’m an auror stationed here when students head back to Hogwarts and come back.”

Melody looked to Teddy for confirmation — much like her father — and received a curt nod back, making her bite her lip in frustration. Neither of them was giving her the information she wanted needed. All she saw was the tension and the underlying love of two different people.

She wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, she could press on and continue bothering them. But on the other —

“I didn’t even know your mother was pregnant.”

You perked up at the mention and glared at the blonde, eyes filled with the same anger and disappointment he saw months ago. “And whose fault is that?”

“I’m sorry that I wanted to protect you.” Draco narrowed his eyes at you, his tone challenging yours.

Melody took a small step back. This wasn’t how she planned this to go, but this was more information she received than from the last eleven years.

“You made that decision yourself.” You whispered, voice cracking with hurt. The walls you carefully built around old memories chipped away as you recalled them all — each moment flashing in your mind. “I could’ve helped, Dray. Instead, you pushed me away like I was nothing.”

Draco furrowed his brows together and shook his head — you were always so stubborn and so correct. “You could’ve gotten killed—“

“I would have died to stay with you.” You instinctively grabbed his hand. “Do you know how long I waited? How long I used to stay up — wondering if you would ever come back?” The tears began to well up as you continued to speak, voice trembling and hands shaking.

Draco quietly listened and stared down at your ringed finger, his family signet shining for all the wizarding world to see. He promised to marry you — to take you away from the mess of the past.

Yet he still left.

“I was praying to whoever was out there for you to come find me.” You quietly spoke and finally dropped his hand. “You left me with nothing.”

The both of you stared at one another with unspoken apologies. No matter how long it’s been, you could still read him and he could still read you. To one another, it was like reading a childhood book that could be recited front to back.

After seconds of stiff silence, you turned back to Melody and Teddy — handing your daughter the miniature trunk and keys to your car. “Melody, take Teddy and wait in the car.”

“Mum—“

“Now.” You cut her off and watch her and Teddy leave the platform. Steadying your breathing once more, you looked back at Draco and twisted your ring. “Do you even have anything to say?”

He looked between your eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, voice small like the seventeen year old Death Eater he once was.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke with so much emotion you swore you could see the colors surrounding him. “I’m so sorry I left without saying anything.”

A noise threatened to leave your lips, but you made no effort to leave your position nor say anything.

“But I was vowed to follow my father’s footsteps by becoming a Death Eater.” He took your hand in his and traced the familiar lines across your palm, effectively calming him and you. “Waking up beside you brought me comfort in all the torture they made me endure. I knew you didn’t deserve to suffer with me, so I left.”

Draco watched your hand delicately hover his arm where the mark was, biting his tongue when you thumbed the space below — something you used to do back in sixth year when he got so overwhelmed with his mission.

“I can’t ever take back the day I decided to leave and never show up again, but I don’t regret it.”

You silently absorbed his words and sniffled — signs that were so clear to Draco about what was to come. He tilted his head down to meet your eyes again, giving you a weak smile.

“You raised an excellent daughter without me.” He tired to cheer you up but frowned when he saw the shimmer of a singular tear streak down your face.

“I needed you.” You frustratedly wipe your tear and look away, knowing that the vulnerability of your heart was completely at stake. “Dray, I was seventeen too.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of the both of you — so young and restrained by everything.

“I was pregnant and terrified. I didn’t know if I could even raise a child on my own.” You breathed and looked up at the glass roofing, pushing the rest of the tears away. “Imagine how different our life would be if you just stayed.”

Another tear escaped and — suddenly — your barriers crumbled. The mere thought of raising Melody on your own without Draco consumed your every being. And somehow — even with just you — she ended up exactly like her father.

“Yes, Melody is amazing, but I really needed you.”

Draco caught your eyes and instantly pulled you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin — refusing to let go of you ever again. His heart continued to break at your silent sobs, each sniffle and hiccup chiseling the crack that formed years ago.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and repeated it like a mantra, voice raw with so much sincerity. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m sorry.”

“I needed you, Draco.” You sobbed and breathed in his familiar scent as you buried your face in his chest. You gripped the lapels of his suit, eyes squeezed shut as if you were afraid he would disappear again. “For more than eleven years, I needed you.”

“I needed you too.” Draco whispered and tilted your head up, thumbing your streaked face. His heart ached from all the time he missed out on. “I’m sorry.”

It felt like ages before you pulled away from him. The only sounds that could be heard was your occasional sniffling and the hisses of the express. You took in a shaky breath and wiped your nose with the sleeve of your jumper, mouth moving before your heart and mind could catch up.

“Would you still have dinner with us? I’m sure you’ve been here all day waiting for the arrival of the express.”

Finally listening to your own words, your freeze before slowly meeting his eyes. You were more shocked at yourself than his answer.

“I would love to have dinner with you and Melody.” He answered truthfully before waving his free hand around with the smallest smile on his face. “And Teddy.”

You match his expression and tilt your head to the right, wringing your hands together. “Maybe you could finally get to know Melody.”

Draco’s lips curled into a fully blown smile, his gray-blue eyes sparkling with delight at the idea of finally knowing his one and only daughter. “I would like that.”

“Me too.” You say softly and — for the first time in a long time — hide the rising warmth forming on your cheek.

Draco Malfoy. The biggest love and loss of your life.

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luveline · 5 months ago

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so i had this silly thought the other night while i was doing a mud mask of jack stumbling upon reader (could be bombshell r, hotchner r, or whoever u would like <3) doing a mud mask and not quite understanding what it is (although r tries to explain it to him), and later on jack’s teacher tells aaron that jack and/or his friends were trying to apply mud to their faces at recess to ‘help their skin’ 😭 so then r has to clarify that u can’t just put any mud on ur face haha and maybe she offers to get some face masks for her and jack (and maybe aaron?) to try together <3 i know this is a bit of a silly idea and it may be too specific so ofc no pressure at all if this doesn’t inspire u!! u write aaron (and jack!) so well and i love everything u put out jade thank u for sharing ur writing with us <333

-💫

“Y/N, what the heck are you doing?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “What kind of language is that, babe? What would your daddy say if he heard you saying that?”

Jack doesn’t even pretend to act chastened. If there’s one thing Jack Hotchner knows about you, it’s that you’re wrapped around his little finger, forever and always. It’s all you can do to keep your arms to yourself as he crawls into bed next to you.

“Is that cucumber?”

“Want some?” you ask.

Jack takes a piece of cucumber and munches on it with a wet snap. “Your face has mud on it.”

“It does.”

“Why?”

You peek at him through one eye. “It apparently draws out the impurities in my face. I’m not sure how it happens, but it makes my skin feel really soft when I wash it off.”

“Oh. But it’s mud.”

“Yeah, it is, I don’t know how it happens. Must be magic.” You love Jack’s little face. He’s cute. His hair is still blonde at the ends, last bits of summer clinging to him, a tan on his pert nose. “Would you wanna try it?”

“How long does it have to be on?”

“About ten minutes. Or before it dries. We wash it off with a face towel.”

“Okay. But just a little bit.”

“Sure, babe. You can tell me if it’s too much.”

Jack sits in front of your lap. You unscrew the pot of clay mask and use the small spreader it comes with to scoop up the mask. Cold, you whisper, but Jack giggles anyways, startled at the feeling as you smooth it over his forehead, his cheeks, and his round chin. You use your fingertips to connect the sections, colour in his nose, and smooth it out. Jack lets his eyes close in little-kid bliss, like he might fall asleep.

“Do you want the cucumbers on your eyes?” you ask.

“For relaxing?”

“Yeah, they’re cold too.”

He lays back on Aaron's side of the bed and you plop on his cucumbers. Fifteen minutes later you encourage him into the bathroom to wash it away, holding his chin, warm, clay-stained water running down his neck. He insists on returning the favour, which ends in you squeezing his cheeks to tell him you love him, which makes him fluster like his father at the receiving end of a good compliment. “I love you too,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor.

“Feel how soft your cheek is,” you say.

“I think you have to wash your face,” he says back. “Sorry.”

It’s great. By the time Aaron’s home from work you’re both super soft and while you don’t offer any explanation, he seems to notice, lackadaisical finger against Jack's cheek prompting an inquisitive, “Jack, have you been in Y/N’s shower stuff again?”

“No.”

You and Jack decide to keep your relaxing afternoon a secret. You think nothing of it for a while. The next time you use your clay mask he’s sleeping at his Aunt Jess’, and Aaron asks why you’re smiling, so you tell a half truth and say you’re thinking of Jack, which makes Aaron so smiley he tries to kiss you despite the mud.

Another few days and you get Jack back, only to give him over to school. Evil school. You and Aaron go to work. It’s some time nearing 1PM when Aaron steps out of his office, buttoning his coat around his neck.

“What’s wrong?” you ask over Emily’s head.

Morgan copies your frown.

“Hotch?”

“Jack is in trouble at school. Apparently he got into a play-fight and everyone needs a change of clothes.” He gives you a look, as if to say, you gotta love him. And you really do. “I’ll be back before the end of lunch.”

“I can go?” you offer.

“I’m already wearing my coat.” He leans over to kiss your cheek and bids you goodbye.

You don’t see your partner again. When he fails to turn up after lunch, you figure he’s taken Jack home —Jack tends to get upset when bad stuff happens at school even if he was just having fun because of his astounding guilty conscience. Aaron texts you not long before you’re due to start worrying with a simple, Sorry, not going to make it back in today. Jack was a bit upset.

Your boss isn’t there, so you take a session with your coworkers, standing up at your desk and clearing your throat. “Because my boss is my boyfriend and also not here, I’ve decided to bring my query to the court.”

You wait. Your team looks at you expectantly.

“Go ahead,” Derek says.

“Jack was so upset at school that he had to go home. Do I, as his almost step mom and number one fan, have the group's permission to go home now so I can get him cookies from Ben’s?”

“Aw, he was upset?” Emily says, frowning but also cooing.

You hold your heart. “I know. He’s such a sweetheart. So, can I go?”

“You want us to do your consultations?” Spencer asks.

“No!” you say, tucking a stray curl behind Spencer’s ear and delighting in the way he shoves you away. He’s laughing as he does it, used to your affection. “You can if you want to, handsome, but I was just gonna finish it tonight on Aaron’s computer.”

“Just go,” Morgan says, rolling his eyes.

“Family emergency,” Emily agrees.

“Don’t really do my consults,” you tell Spencer, grinning when he waves you off.

You make a pit stop at Ben’s for praline filled cookies and smile despite yourself the whole way home. You’re not worried about Jack, he has his dad, and it was only dirt, you’re just excited to see him and to ditch work and to maybe, maybe, lay your head in Aaron’s lap sometime soon. He strokes the skin behind your ear and leans down to kiss you whenever he feels like it, which means you can amass upwards of five kisses an hour. It’s elastic.

“Babe?” you call, knocking open the door with a clatter. Shoes wait for you at the entryway. You leave your kitten heels by light up sketchers and dress shoes neatly lined. “Honey? Angel?”

“Are you talking to me?” Aaron calls from the door of the kitchen, suddenly in view.

“Am I in trouble?” you ask.

Aaron checks his watch. “Oh, definitely.”

“Personal paid time off?”

“Sure. What’s in the bag?”

“Oh, you know, just something special for the baby. Is he okay?”

“He’s unhappy with me, truth be told.”

“Why’s that?”

Aaron holds your gaze. “Weirdly, I think you might have a better idea of the situation than I do.”

You follow him back into the kitchen, confused and eager for an explanation. Jack’s at the door that leads to your backyard, sitting on the stoop, looking stroppy and tired and relieved to see you, which is nice. “Hey,” you say, “what’s with the frowny face, beautiful?”

“Dad doesn’t believe me.”

“Doesn’t believe you about what?”

“Me and Adrian was putting mud on our faces at school because it makes us soft, like we did, but dad doesn’t think we did it.”

“We did,” you say immediately, giving Aaron a soft, honest look, not mad at anyone and not sure where the confusion is coming from, “you’ve seen my masks, honey.”

“Your clay mask is blue,” Aaron says.

“Is not!” Jack says. “It’s red just like mud!”

“Well, when me and Jack did a mask together a couple of weeks ago, it was the red one, but it was a new one. I usually use that blue one,” you say, relieved when Aaron begins to look amused rather than slightly annoyed. “It’s my fault, babe.”

You turn to Jack. “Baby,” you say, trying your best to look serious and kind at once, “the clay mask we did together is called a mud mask, and it does have mud in it, but it’s not like the mud at school, okay? It’s probably not a good idea for you and Adrian to rub it on yourselves.”

Jack crosses his arms in front of him, slouching. “Well, how was I s��posed to know that?” he asks, sounding about as angry as he ever gets, which isn’t much.

Aaron sighs deeply. You’re sure you’re in for it, you’ve wasted half of everyone’s day now ‘cos you didn’t explain a simple concept, but then he says, “You love to exclude me, the both of you.”

“What?” you ask, gasping through a laugh.

“Doing things together and not telling me!” he insists. “If you’d let me join in, I wouldn’t have upset Jack today because I’d know why he was playing in the mud.”

You hold his gaze, refusing to break as his smile grows and grows despite the effort he pulls into staying straight.

“So I’m not in trouble?” Jack asks.

Aaron smiles. “Don’t think so, Jackers, not unless you did something I don’t know about.”

“I didn’t!”

“Then consider yourself innocent. I’m sorry I didn’t understand you.”

“I’m sorry for not explaining the difference,” you add.

Jack looks at both of you, all sunny-eyed, ready to be coddled by somebody and without a favourite. “Okay, thank you. It’s not your fault you didn’t know, dad. And it’s okay about the explaining,” he says to you seriously. ”Explaining is hard.”

Jack encroaches back into the room now he’s believed, reaching for Aaron’s legs, markedly pleased when his dad bends down to hug him. It’s an apology cuddle, but it also checks for resentment or sadness alike. Jack closes his eyes, alright with how things have worked out.

You feel ever so slightly excluded, but you do your best to stay still, loyally waiting your turn, and rewarded handsomely when Jack finishes hugging his dad and crowds you instead, arms held up insistently. There’s no protesting when you lift him onto the counter for a better hug. When you say sorry again for technically getting him into trouble, he shakes his head.

“Just an accident,” he says, in the tenor of a practised line, one of Aaron’s mantras sinking in.

“Can I make it up to you? We won’t exclude dad this time.”

Jack gets lifted from one counter to another. You let him eat one of his cookies in the bathroom (and despite his face mask) but wrinkle your nose at the idea, his dad beside him, leaning back, tie undone and t-shirt unbuttoned to the third. The slice of undershirt on display makes your week.

Completely still as he is, you raise yourself up to draw the face mask onto Aaron’s cheeks and forehead. He laughs like Jack did at the cold, more of a giggle, but he doesn’t move.

“It does feel like mud,” Aaron says.

“I told you,” Jack says. There’s cookie crumbs stuck in the mask around his mouth.

You kiss Aaron chastely.

“Just wait for how soft this is gonna make your skin,” you say.

“I think my skin is as soft as it’s going to get, but thank you, honey.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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mokulule · 5 months ago

Text

A Man has Needs part 3

First

Fandom: DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny) Summary: In which Jason keeps up ending up in Danny's bed and not even for any fun reasons.

Part 3

Daniel James Fenton, 20 years old, born and raised in Amity Park, Illinois. Graduated high school with barely passing grades. Currently enrolled in Gotham U’s aerospace engineering program, with (ironically) a Wayne Foundation scholarship of a type that was reliant on entrance exam test results rather than high school grades. Either his high school teachers hated him or he spent the gap year studying his ass off to ace the exams.

At least it explained what he was doing in Gotham of all places, Jason thought as he leaned on the kitchen island chin in his hand, laptop open in front of him. The WF scholarships for Gotham U were very good, yet still most people had the sense not to move to Gotham - and Crime Alley at that.

Him being from the Midwest might even explain some of the strange hospitality, though Jason felt he probably took it a level above most people.

Of family there was an older sister - like he’d mentioned. Jasmine Fenton was currently doing a PhD in the field of Psychology.

The parents, Jack and Madeline Fenton had doctorates of their own, though what little he could find published from them was from very disreputable paranormal sort of publications. They seemed to have very little basis for their theories - one of which was that ghosts were inherently evil - which was just absolute hogwash. They apparently lived off the payout of some early inventions they’d made and sold to the government.

Beyond that there was only an aunt.

Friends were much harder to judge. Danny’s social media presence was practically non-existent. He’d only just opened an account on Mugshot, Gotham’s favored social, this Monday, apparently due to encouragement from new Gotham U friends.

Jason absently drummed his fingers on the counter, as he stared unseeingly towards his laptop. Maybe Tim or Babs could find more, but Jason found himself reluctant to involve them, they would want to know why he was looking into the guy, they would want a reason to dig deeper than the basic background check Jason had already done.

Jason could not- would not, tell them about this… attraction? Jason rubbed his face tiredly. Attraction was a terrible word, that implied other things, but it was the best he had.

The oven timer had the kindness to beep then, signifying that batch of cookies was done, and distracting him for a few minutes as he transferred them to the cooling rack and got another plate going.

It was a limited reprieve however and all too soon he was back in front of his laptop. He had no other avenues, there really was only one thing to do.

Oo o oO

“We need to talk.” He flung the words out the moment a surprised Danny opened the door. The surprise however quickly gave way to a grimace as he registered the words.

“Do we have to?” Danny asked honest pleading in his voice.

Jason felt really tempted to say no, but forced himself to say “yes.”

“Okay,” Danny sighed, leaving the door open for Jason to step inside.

Jason closed the door after himself and felt his shoulders relax from their tense position and his breath come out in a relieved sigh. Safe.

He looked to Danny who wrung his hands.

Jason had meant to say something, ask something, he’d had a plan. He wanted answers. Answers… Jason opened his mouth, sound getting stuck in his throat. Just ask him what was going on? But what did it really matter?

“Ah! Please don’t say anything,” Danny interrupted Jason’s internal struggle. “I have been trying so hard not to make this awkward.”

Jason grimaced when he saw how uncomfortable Danny looked. Jason was making him uncomfortable.

“Okay look,” Danny took a deep breath and held up his hands, and looked at Jason with his big blue eyes, “will you please, just let me start, and if you really feel like you need to say something you can do so afterwards, yeah? Though it’s really not necessary.”

“Okay,” Jason managed mouth dry.

“I don’t know how to make this not awkward, but here goes, it’s okay.”

“Okay?” Jason reiterated brows raising in confusion.

“Yes, it’s okay, truly. Fuck, how would Jazz say it,” Danny looked thoughtful for a moment before meeting Jason’s eyes again. “You have needs, and that is okay.”

Jason frowned bewildered and alarmed. Needs?

Seeing Jason’s frown Danny unfortunately rambled, “I know it’s not exactly socially normal no matter which way you look at it, but it’s fine. I have a big bed, truly it’s fine. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, or apologize-“

Overwhelmed, Jason held up his bag of cookies and Danny thankfully stopped talking.

“Coffee?” Danny croaked after a moment’s silence.

“Please,” Jason agreed.

Five minutes later they sat at Danny’s small table a plate of cookies between them, looking down at their steaming coffee, awkwardly avoiding looking at each other.

Jason didn’t know what to think. Had he gotten any information out of this? Needs… Jason had needs, and those let him to Danny’s bed? He cringed away from the thought.

Across from him, Danny poked the handle of his cup. “Can we just pretend this conversation didn’t happen?”

Maybe Danny had the right of it. For both their sanities, maybe that was best. Aside from his confusion, Jason had felt better after both times he’d slept at Danny’s. Would it be so bad to, just for once in his life, not question things? Jason was unsure how much of this was his brain being muddled in Danny’s presence, but he agreed with a nod, and took a sip of coffee.

Oo o oO

Danny wanted to scream. He had made such a mess of things! All his good intentions and he’d gone and made things awkward anyways. It was a relief his guest was willing to just go with it after all.

And, Danny lamented, his guest had even spoken earlier today, like in a full sentence and now they were back at single words or nonverbal. Poor guy. It had to be so uncomfortable to wake up in a stranger’s bed. If only Danny had an easy way to give him straight ectoplasm, but then that might actually overwork his starved core and make everything worse. The slow absorption of Danny’s ambient energy, probably was best for him.

Half still lost in thought he took a cookie and promptly groaned in pleaures, it was perfect and there was no way he could keep his train of thought. It was crisp on outside and chewy in the middle, and the chocolate bits were so rich.

“You made these?” Danny exclaimed between heavenly bites and was rewarded with a quick shy smile and a glance of blue-green eyes. Fuck, why did Danny’s guest have to be both hot and cute? Life was so unfair.

But it seemed the ice had finally broken, and they were back to something comfortable.

Oo o oO

Later in his own apartment, Jason tried once again to make sense of things.

Facts. Jason woke up in Danny’s bed twice, it was likely to happen again.

Apparently Jason had needs. He shuddered at the thought, because what did that mean? But in a twisted way it also made sense, because he had woken up twice in that man’s bed through no conscious decision of his own. There was something about Danny that drew Jason to him and while it was kinda freaking him out, it was also kinda not. Which in itself was freaking him out if he allowed himself to think about it.

But another fact was that Jason felt better, lighter somehow, than… actually he didn’t really remember when he’d last felt so good. Maybe he really had just needed some proper sleep?

And Danny himself?

Jason had no idea what his deal was. It was very odd how accepting he was of the situation - he’d said it himself, this wasn’t socially normal no matter how you looked at it.

He was clearly not normal no matter how you looked at it. But neither was Jason really.

And this is the end of part 3.

They almost talked? They gotta get props for trying right?

You can subscribe at the masterpost

#dp x dc #dead on main #these two are so awkward #to be fair I think it is a very awkward situation I put them in #miscommunication #a man has needs

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kdh-tally · 2 days ago

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Baby x Rumi!YoungerSisterReader [pt 3]

Prompt : It's day 2 of you been stuck with the Saja Boys. You end up fighting with Romance and Abby.

Author's Note : Guys I had a whole other idea for how this chapter was gonna go... Baby and Y/n were gonna go on a date (but not a date) lol. However! I feel like its too soon for that so we get this instead <3

Read -> Part 1 then Part 2

It was day two of five of being left in the boys dorm. Y/n was starting to enjoy herself.

The majority of her first day was spent playing video games with Baby and Mystery in their room. She really did enjoy spending time with the two. Unfortunately, they were forced to go on live stream to provide fans with some interactions.

This left Y/n wandering their huge dorm building alone. She was exploring the vast rooms when she came across one that was quite empty with what looked like a boxing ring in the center. Smiling to herself, she stepped inside.

She wasn't too surprised that the boys had a training room. She'd known they were demons after all, and even after defeating Gwi-ma they enjoyed practicing and sharpening their skills. She let out a laugh of amusement as she noted the completely beaten up and tattered training dummies.

She knew what demon claws could do, after all she had them as well.

Y/n was half demon, like her sister Rumi, however she took on more of her fathers features. Maybe it was the reason her aunt never seemed to enjoy being around her, always choosing to spend her time with her older sister.

In addition, Y/n was also part hunter. The Honmoon did answer to her voice as she also received physical manifestations of its power. Her throwing stars.

She remembered the first time she had gotten them to form, shyly asking Zoey for help seeing as their weapons were quite similar. Unlike the extremely hyper girl, Y/n had no desire to get close to demons at all.

She had to practice aiming from far distances as well as how to wield her weapon to her advantage. That as well as her hunter and demon speed made her almost undefeatable in battle. But even this didn't please Celine as she would never see the girl as more than her evil half.

She shook her head, bringing herself back into the present. Quickly doing some dynamic stretches, she focused on summoning her weapons only to be distracted by familiar voice.

"Why are you here alone doll?" She looked to the door only to see Romance and Abby, the two pink haired boys watching her.

She immediately felt guilty for invading their space, her walls slowly rising up against them. "I'm sorry. I'll leave--"

"No stay," Abby interrupted, gesturing to the training dummies. "Show us what you've got."

Y/n's eyes widened. She knew how to fight, however with the two set of eyes on her she had no idea if she would be able to perform half as well as she usually did. However, the boys had done nothing but make her feel comfortable in their home, even some of that kindness was most definitely due to their fear of her older sister and her friends.

She shook off her nerves before focusing on the dummies once more. She pretended the boys weren't in the room and began humming a simple tune. While it wasn't one of the songs that could bring light to the Honmoon, it would be enough for her to summon her weapons.

Her throwing stars appeared almost immediately as she was quick to attack. Though the targets were inanimate, it was obvious that even with quick moving targets she would've been able to defeat them quickly.

She spun through the tight spaces between each dummy, leaping over a paticularly tall one to impale it with her weapon. The few stars she threw across the room cut through each target and returned back to her hands. While running, she held the stars between each finger, using them as knives.

As her song came to an end, she stood tall in the center of all the training dummies and targets. They looked ten-times worse than they did when she found the room. From the door, Romance and Abby stared in shock.

"If she had tried to kill us with one of the hunters we would definitely be dead..." Abby muttered before getting a punch to the gut from Romance.

"You can't let her know that," he whisper yelled.

Y/n laughed at their antics and they both smiled. They were happy the girl had gotten more comfortable around them to not only show her skill but laugh freely.

"You want more practice?" Romance grinned, tying his hair up into a messy ponytail as he slipped into the ring. Abby following close behind him, summoning some of his own demon features.

The two stood opposite of Y/n, the training dummies already cleared from the ring. Y/n let out a small confident smirk, a look they hadn't seen on her yet. With that, she got into her fighting stance and they attacked.

----

It had been a long live stream.

Baby was rummaging through the fridge, looking for a snack to eat. Both he and Mystery had just finished their live with the fans and he was incredibly hungry.

He eventually decided on a container that definitely didn't belong to him. It was probably Romance's seeing as he cooked the most. He was about to close the fridge when he noticed a box of strawberry milk on the door. On it was a note with 'Y/n's ;D' scribbled on it.

He hadn't realized it but a wistful smile had spread across his face. Grabbing the drink, he closed the fridge and headed to his room.

He was walking through the long hallway when he heard what sounded like music. Out of curiosity, he followed the voice till he got to the boys training room.

He almost dropped his food when he got a proper view of the situation. Romance and Abby lay on the floor, struggling to get up while Y/n stood opposite of them. She was grinning like an excited kid, tossing a star into the air and catching it with ease.

As she stood, he could hear lyrics of an unfamiliar, but still comforting, song leave her lips. He didn't know that she could sing. He didn't know she could do it so well.

He tried to look away, pretend her siren-like voice hadn’t drawn him in but he couldn’t. Not when she looked like that.

"Okay!" Abby yelled, voice muffled from the ground he was face planted in. "We yield"

Y/n was feeling playful, grinning teasingly at the two. "You sure?" Even though her look wasn't even directed at him, Baby swore he couldn't bring himself to think. He wanted her to look at him like that.

"Y/n please," Romance huffed, gasping for air after their intense battle session. "We'll never challenge you again."

Y/n laughed, letting her weapons disperse into the air. It was only then that she took notice of the blue haired boy by the door. She felt her skin heat up, demon marks that she usually kept hidden flaring up.

Baby's lips unconsciously parted as he took her in even clearer. Messy hair, gorgeous markings, and a smile that could put an end to any war. In order to not seem like a creep, he forced himself to speak "Have you always had those?"

Y/n tilted her head at him in confusion. What could he have been talking about?

"He's right," Abby spoke, finally sitting up right after yielding. "Your demon markings just appeared."

The girl's eyes widened as she looked at her hands. She was confused. She normally had these under control, being able to hide them with an ease Rumi couldn't grasp. However, as the blue haired boy kept his attention on her, they glowed a bright hot pink.

"I-i," she stuttered, trying to calm down her speeding heart.

Romance smirked as he realised what was happening. Demon markings did flare up when one was particularly emotional, or around someone that made you feel emotional.

His eyes looked between Baby and Y/n, a pleased glimmer in his eyes as he took note of his maknae's dazed expression. He got up, pulling Abby, who was still recovering, up with ease. "We have some work to do actually," he announced, ignoring Abby's confused face. "Have fun!"

With that, the two teleported out the room leaving Baby and Y/n. The two looked at each other in silence.

She slipped out of the ring, walking up to stand before the boy. “How much did you see?” she asked sheepishly.

“Enough to know not to get you angry,” he chuckled, looking down at her. She rolled her eyes, punching his shoulder and trying to ignore the way her pattern flared up from where she touched him.

He eyed the glowing lines around her hands with curiosity, he wasn’t even aware she was half demon but considering Rumi was her sister it made sense. He’d have to talk to her about it later.

"I got you something in case you were hungry," he remembered, holding out the milk carton to her. Y/n’s eyes widened in joy as she quickly snatched the box out of his grip.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” she beamed. Fighting took a lot of energy. Y/n began walking out the room, Baby following closely behind as he listened to her every word.

He found it so endearing how talkative she was under the shy persona. He could listen to her speak for days.

Tag List (If I Forgot Anyone Let Me Know!) :

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fanfics-i-find-here · 8 months ago

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Do I know you? Part 2

Jason Todd X Reader

Synopsis: Jason, not Red Hood, “checks” on you. Cue the shortest/ longest conversation you have had with the man.

Or in other words, is this flirting?

Notes: There is no planned plot for this if anyone can tell. Just running on vibes.

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Masterlist

Your presumption of a long night was regrettably accurate. The annoyance of it all makes you want to chuck your alarm against the wall. But alas, being an adult mattered more and you need money, so work it is. You pray for it to be a busy day so you can forget your embarrassment from the night before.

Clocking into work makes you confident in the fact that it will be busy. You slide into your routine as a waitress at Jackie’s Books and Coffee, greeting customers and delivering drinks and pastries to them. You chat with a few of the regulars as they come in, and you listen as they yap about their lives. As you make another round, you greet another regular.

His name was Jason and that’s all you really knew. He wasn’t like many of the other customers who liked to talk about anything and everything to you. He usually only got coffee and read a book. The one time he did actually talk to you was when you mentioned you had never read a Jane Austen book. It was like that was the only thing that mattered in the world. He ranted at you for 15 minutes about it and you didn’t have the heart to step away. He was cute when he was passionate.

He sat down at his usual table and pulled out a book. You went to work with his order, he always got the same thing. You sat the cup in front of him and asked, “What’s the book for the day?”

You try to glance at the cover but find the front cover blank, a fancy hardcover. Not finding the answer there you meet his gaze to wait for his response. You're startled for a moment by the familiarity of his features. Of course, his features were familiar to you, he was a regular but there was something different this time around. A scar on his lip and his cheek-

“Dracula” your thoughts are cut off by his voice, suddenly strangely familiar too, and you focus in on the conversation.

You smile, “I actually have read that one.”

You are half tempted to add, might be better than Jane Austen, but you decided you still want to work for the next half hour. You settle on, “Hollywood definitely got that one wrong, so much for the undead being sexy.” You joke.

His laugh comes out a little startled and you’re proud of the accomplishment. He usually looks so sullen in his corner booth, although that might just be because he’s so focused on his book.

“I don’t know, Hollywood might be onto something.” He says it like it’s an inside joke, but you feel like you missed the punchline.

“Maybe,” you say with a polite laugh, “Did you want anything else?” you ask.

He shakes his head. Not a huge shocker, he never wants anything but his drink and his book.

“Just let me know if you do.” You walk away slowly as you try to push down the weird familiar feeling you’re having all of a sudden. You check in with a few customers and, with a lull in commotion you settle into a chair next to the register. Bless Jackie for having one, your feet slowly starting to ache as the end of your shift draws near. Darla, one of the other waitresses comes to stand close to you. She leans in with a conspiratory look.

“So, you get his number?” she questions, her Gothamite accent heavy. Your head whips to look at her and you almost knock noses.

“What?” you try to keep your tone neutral, but your tone pitches up. Her lips twist into a grin and you’d think it evil if you didn’t already know her. Darla was nearly 50 years old, and she reminded you of a self-proclaimed “Fun Aunt” who liked to be in on all the gossip and had no sense of personal space. She had been goading you to date someone, anyone, just so she could be all up in your business. Because according to her, you were the most boring person she’d ever met.

“The hottie, did you get his number?” she asks again as she pulls out a compact mirror to brush some fly-aways from her face.

“First of all, I still don’t know who you’re talking about.” You do but that’s neither here nor there. “Second, you can’t just call customer’s Hotties, Darla, that weird.”

She scoffs and snaps her compact closed. “All right, Scarface over there. Did you get his number?”

You practically jump at her to cover her mouth. “Darla!”

She pushes your hand away with a grin. “Don’t worry Baby doll. It makes him look hot in a rugged way.”

“Darla, I swear-“you're cut off by a throat clearing. You turn to see a college student awkwardly waiting at the register. Your face flushes and you drop your hands from Darla and through on a customer service smile.

“Hi, sorry about that. How can I help you?” You manage to stay away from Darla for the rest of your shift, checking on customers probably more than necessary. It's 5 o’clock when your shift finally ends. You brush by Darla to clock out and she follows you.

“You gonna answer my question or not?” Ever persistent for an older woman.

“No, Darla, I did not get Jason’s number” You pointedly use his name, so she won’t use Scarface or Hottie again.

“Oh, First name basis.” She teases.

You roll your eyes and pull off your apron to hang it up. You turn and look at her.

“Goodbye Darla,” you say sweetly with a too cheesy smile. It's her turn to roll her eyes as she goes back to work. You collect your purse and jacket and head for the front door of the shop. The early fall weather not having kicked in yet, you carry your jacket on your arm. Focused on pulling your purse over your head, you nearly run into a mass.

“Oh Sorry,” you say as you take a step back.

“No, you’re okay. I shouldn’t have bullied my way in front of you.” A deep voice speaks. You look up and meet blue-green eyes. Jason.

“I hardly think someone so passionate about Jane Austen could do any Bullying” You see Jason flush a little at the comment but don’t say anything. He holds the front door open for you. You thank him as you hurriedly shuffle through the open door. He follows you out onto the warm sidewalk. Assuming your conversation is done you head down the sidewalk with your arms crossed in front of you holding your jacket. As you walk you become very conscious of the man next to you. You glance at him curiously but don’t comment.

You take your time walking with him silently. You're not in a rush to get home, darkness still a few hours away. You should be worried. You’re not though. Jason has never struck you as a bad guy. Call it energy or vibe or what have you (ranting about Jane Austen). He just wasn’t bad. Intimidating? Yes, but not bad. As you walk you give some subtle side glances. He was very… Large. You didn’t know how else to describe him. Nearly a whole head taller than you and muscular. Yeah, he could definitely pick you up and carry you. You flush, not that that mattered. Your eyes get drawn back to his face. You know those scars; you swear up and down that it's not just because he’s a regular. They’ve never stuck out to you like this, and you can’t figure out why. In your (not so) subtle side-eye, you meet his gaze. He’s already smiling at you, but you don’t linger on it dropping your gaze to the concrete.

“Heading home?” He asks, tilting his head toward you.

You look up to meet his gaze, intense in the stare and unsure if he's just like that or dissecting you. This is the longest amount of time you’ve spent actually near him without tending to customers.

“Uh, yeah?” you ask yourself. Of course, you're going home; where else would you go? But why would you tell him that? You don’t think Jason would do anything bad to you; he is still, at most, an acquaintance, and you don’t really know him. (Not that it matters considering you let a literal stranger into your home the night before.) If he senses your hesitation and worry, he doesn’t comment on it.

“I wish I was.” He admits but quickly adds on, “Going to my home, not yours. That would be weird, I don’t really know you.” His voice drops quieter as he trails off. He rubs at the back of his neck, a light flush on his cheeks. The man in a flustered state must give you some courage.

“Yeah, that would be weird,” you tease, “Although maybe not a bad thing.” You quiet for a moment and think is this good flirting?

“If you're not going home, then where are you going?” You ask both curious about the answer and if it’ll explain why he's still walking with you.

His flush darkens and he mumbles for a moment and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Leather Jacket…

“Family required dinner,” he says it like it’s the worst thing in the entire world, sitting next to nuclear weapons and climate change.

“That sounds fun” You try to keep a neutral tone because a family dinner does sound fun, to you, but he, apparently, thinks otherwise.

“Oh, loads of it,” he says with a scowl.

You decide a variety of things at that moment. First, he was unfairly attractive. Scowling should not look that good. Second, you want to stop him from scowling, a sadness sitting just behind his eyes. Thirdly, Darla was, unfortunately, correct. You should get this guy's number.

“at least tell me there's dessert.” You ask teasingly. Your inquiry is enough to chase away the scowl and you smile at the fact.

“Only the best homemade cookies in existence” he responds with a smile.

“At least there's something good.” You slow your walk as you come to the corner where your apartment building sits. You don’t want to give away that you live here, but you don’t want to start wandering around the streets of Gotham with him either. As it turns out, your overthinking is unnecessary.

“This is me.” He states as he walks to a parked motorcycle right in front of the building. You can't help but stare.

“Will you make it home safe all alone?” he asks like he already knows the answer. It takes you a moment to answer, distracted as he pulls a helmet out of the back seat of the bike, preparing to put it on. The leather made more sense now.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, it'll be no problem. I don’t live far.” You gesture further down the street, where you definitely did not live. He nods and smiles knowingly as he slips the helmet on.

“Okay see you later, sweetheart.” He says as he slings a leg over the bike, starting. You stare, again, at the denim of his jeans stretching over his legs nicely. He gives you a wave before taking off down the street, turning a corner. You stand and stare at the spot he had just been for much longer than you should have. You let a quiet “Bye” leave your lips despite him being long gone.

You finally turn around to your apartment building. How convenient that was. You pet one of the stray cats that sit on the steps as you climb them and enter the building, thinking Am I missing something?

Other Note: Thank you for all the love for the first part. It inspired me to keep going. I hope this makes some kind of sense.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #fanfics-i-find-here #Kandywrites #do i know you?

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formylovetodaryldixon · 7 months ago

Text

"On a snowy day." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

On a snowy day, Daryl's daughter tells him about an interesting conversation between you and Aunt Maggie, but Marley ends up spilling the beans to Carol too about her daddy's worst fear.

A/N: Just another sweet and funny imagine about Daryl and his daughter hehe another one to add to the list :) "My everything." "A whole new world." "For life." "Make you happy." Hope you like it♥

The whole street, the whole block, all of Alexandria is covered in snow, painting the world of the living white after being blood red for so many years. The green of the leaves has disappeared under the cold season, snowmen on every house as a reminder of the past. Snowflakes sway in a gentle dance in the evening breeze, under a sky that changes color with the passing of the hours.

On her way back home, holding her daddy’s hand, Marley’s little world seems infinite at 5 and a half years old. Her winter boots sink into the snow, lifting it slightly with each step she takes. Her brown hair is identical to her father’s, a little messy under her white wool hat.

“The shot still hurt, angel?” Daryl has to look down to meet his daughter’s gaze, blue eyes looking back at him, deeply. “Ya want daddy to carry ya the rest of the way?”

Marley nods, because the walk back from visiting her mom in the infirmary was too long for her little legs.

“Please, daddy.”

Daryl smiles as his ears fill with the tender, sweet voice of his daughter calling him daddy, a voice he learned to recognize ever since Marley said her first word. He has to bend down to pick her up, holding her against his chest as she hugs him close, his forearms beneath her, her small arms around his neck.

“Why are ya so cute, huh?” Daryl is still smiling as he sets off again for the walk home. “Ya do that on purpose, don’ ya? Is that yer master evil plan? To make daddy love ya so much he can’t breathe?”

Marley laughs, her gaze locked with her father's eyes, the corners of her lip curling into a smile as she continues to learn to understand the depth of her Daddy's love, but before she can respond, a neighbor's wave from her front porch forces them both to look to the right.

Daryl lets out a small hey back without stopping, followed by a nod before turning back to his daughter, but Marley’s eyes are still on the woman they leave behind.

“Sweetheart…” He uses his arms under her body to rock her once, softly, getting her to look back in his direction. “What’s wrong, angel?”

Marley holds a thoughtful expression, her brow furrowing slightly with the seriousness of her little thoughts at her short 5 years old. But Daryl can’t help but smile, because that expression is identical to yours when you both didn’t like something.

“Aunt Maggie told mommy that Mrs. Ellie likes to stare at you too much when you leave the house in your sleeveless shirt in the summer. She said the neighbor was a female version of a dog, but I don’t know what that means, daddy.”

Hearing her words, Daryl has to make an enormous effort not to laugh.

“Mommy said that? Or was it Aunt Maggie?”

“Aunt Maggie...” Marley tilts her head to the side, still thoughtful. “But Mommy said we needed to get you some baggy clothes, or burn that shirt, or maybe just get rid of the neighbor, but I don’t know what that means either.”

It’s hilarious for Daryl at the new information, though he does his best to remain cool, but there’s also something daring in your words, a compliment to his body even though he wore those clothes without a thought for others. Well, he knew he did it to get your attention, but not the rest of the world’s. Daryl also knew that kids didn’t know how to keep secrets, no matter if they knew or not that some things weren’t supposed to be said.

And he can’t help but smile.

“Oh yeah? An’ what else mommy said ‘bout daddy, Marley?”

Marley’s expression changes as in her mind, she starts putting the words mommy and daddy together.

“Mommy told Aunt Maggie that you are still very hot, like living forever on a summer day.” Daryl chuckles as does his daughter, having a blast with your unfiltered words, though he also knew that he had to teach his child later that listening to adult conversations was wrong. “Is that a good thing, daddy?”

“Well… that means mommy finds daddy attractive.”

Marley nods slightly.

“So you are handsome, because you are.” She smiles, because to her, Daddy is the most handsome man in the community. Daryl shakes his head, because his reserved personality still prevented him from seeing himself the way others did. “Mommy said she really likes your long hair.”

The corner of his lip curls into a smile, loving the way Marley’s small hands brush away the strands of hair that usually cover part of his eyes.

“Maybe Daddy should tell Mommy that he really likes her too.”

Marley lets out a sweet laugh, hugging his neck again.

“You stare at Mommy a lot, Daddy. Last week at Uncle Rick’s house, he told his wife that you couldn’t take your eyes off your wife.”

Even in the dead of winter, Daryl can feel the sudden warmth on his cheeks, spreading throughout his body as he climbs the steps of his front porch, walking over to the rocking chair in the corner to sit in it with Marley on his lap, her little legs swinging out on either side.

“Yeah, daddy likes to look at mommy a lot, angel, and s'cause mommy is a pretty thing to look at.”

Marley thinks for a few seconds, trying to understand such simple words that at the same time hide a deep meaning.

“The love you and mommy have for me, is it the same as yours for mommy?”

Daryl has to think about his answer for a few seconds, trying to explain with words that his daughter can understand, the love he had for her and for his wife.

“S'the same, but different. Mommy and daddy love ya so, so much, angel, 'cause ya came into our lives to make everythin' better. An’ daddy loves mommy with all his heart too, that’s why I asked mommy to be ma wife, so she’d be stuck with me for life.” Daryl tries not to laugh as he remembers that that was what he told you when you got married. “Mommy an’ daddy love each other a lot too, and ya were born from that love.”

Marley holds his gaze, her little mind trying to process his words.

“Aunt Maggie asked Mommy if you two were thinking about having another baby.” Marley tilts her head again, looking at her daddy with blue eyes that sparkle with curiosity. “Are we having another baby at home, Daddy?”

Daryl smiles as he uses one hand to tuck a strand of his daughter’s hair behind her ear, but for him, it’s a relief to see his baby willing to share her place as queen of the house.

“Dunno, angel. Daddy thinks it might be a good idea for ya to have a lil’ brother or sister at some point, but that’s Mommy’s decision. S'her body that has to carry the baby, and Daddy ain't pressurin' Mommy into doin' anythin’ she’s not comfortable with, okay?”

Marley nods.

“But maybe if we ask Santa for a baby, he can bring one and Mommy won’t have to carry my little brother or sister inside her.”

Daryl chuckles, but he too is at peace with the idea that his daughter’s innocence is still intact in that cruel world.

“That’s an excellent idea, angel.” His hand, warm despite the season, caresses his daughter’s soft cheek. “If s'okay with Mommy, I know ya’ll be a great big sister.”

Marley smiles at the touch of her daddy’s fingers against her skin, not even noticing that his hand is calloused, somewhat rough, because he always caressed her cheek softly, so gently that she never noticed Daryl’s insecurity the first time he thought he would hurt her skin.

“You, Daryl Dixon…” Marley giggles, because she never used her daddy’s real name, because to her, he had always been daddy. “You’re a good daddy. The best daddy in the whole world.”

Like the snow melting when the weather leaves winter behind, Daryl feels an overflowing love for his little daughter, his baby, his angel, feeling her love that managed to melt those fears he harbored inside him, the mistaken idea that he would never be the father Marley deserved.

“Can ya stay this lil’ forever, angel? Can ya promise daddy ya will never leave his side?”

Marley tries not to laugh, making an effort to keep a serious expression to match her promise.

“I’ll never leave your side, daddy. I promise.”

Daryl smiles, and when he does, his expression softens, always, and his blue eyes become warm as he takes in how identical his daughter is to him.

“What’s this beautiful couple doing here?” Carol’s sweet voice draws their attention, and Marley has to turn to look at her, smiling the instant she recognizes her. Daryl pulls her off his lap, and his daughter clings to Carol’s body the moment she reaches the porch. “Are you better now, honey? Your mommy said you were getting a little sick.”

Marley looks up, smiling instantly.

“Yes, Denisse gave me a shot. It hurt a little, but when she told daddy he should get one too to prove to me it didn’t hurt, he told her only his wife could touch his ass.”

Carol’s laughter drowns out Daryl’s embarrassment, embarrassment he tries to cover with a serious expression, but when she says goodbye minutes later and Marley climbs back onto her daddy’s lap, he has to keep the same expression so as not to give himself away.

“Marley, sweetheart, s'okay when ya tell daddy that mommy thinks he’s attractive, but ya don’ have to tell everyone that daddy’s scared of shots, okay?”

Marley, though confused by the contradictory idea that always telling the truth is okay, nods before leaning against Daryl’s chest, one side of her face feeling the softness of his long–sleeved black t–shirt that he always pulls up to his elbows. Daryl chuckles as he wraps his arms around her, like a refuge from the slight chill while they wait for mommy to come home. Then, he shakes his head in disbelief, his long hair moving with him, because Daryl knows that when the day is over, his family, the family he made at the end of the world, will know that the man who survived a couple of gunshots and several fights is scared of shots.

Oh, but what the hell, because after marrying the love of his life and having a little girl as a daughter, everyone already knew that, despite his rough exterior, Daryl is a big softie (in a good way) for his girls.

@fluffy-dixon

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #dad!daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd

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phoenixyfriend · 1 year ago

Text

Something something Dooku survives the Clone Wars, the Imperial Era, and even a few years past the OT...

And Luke finds him while looking for More Jedi to help him teach.

Chewie recognizes the decrepit old bastard, and there is yelling, but being A Hundred And Nine has mellowed Dooku out in his own dusty hermit hut, on the other side of the galaxy from Ben and Yoda's hermit huts.

All the Jedi ghosts are unhappy with this but Dooku is… not REFORMED, technically, but he's old and tired, even if the Force keeps him a bit more healthy and energized than the average Old Guy, and humans routinely live to pretty unreal old ages in the gffa anyway so really 109 for them is probably like 85 for us.

But yeah. Old mountain hermit (to contrast the desert and the swamp) who's been in hiding from That Dick Sidious since he lost both hands to babyface Vader in 19BBY.

@jebiknights (Sammie) said:

Dooku finds out Luke was also trained by Yoda and is like "oh Yoda finally gave me a younger brother like I always wanted"

Alternately he could probably get Luke to call him Great-Great-Grandfather.

Sammie: Funniest option is he's both which makes Luke even more confused lmao Ghost Obi wan in the background like "stop fucking using non Jedi terms to describe Jedi relationships it doesn't fucking work"

Luke calls him, irreverently, Gramps, but also. Leia definitely recognizes him as a Recent Historic Political Figure, but not until AFTER Luke has already integrated Dooku into his new Jedi school.

"Why did Chewie let him do that?" He thought it was funny. (And/or if you like Chewku, you can make this some sordid exes thing.)

"Why did R2 let him do that?" Best keep evil man in electrical prodding range.

Sammie: Leia comes to the school for her biweekly Jedi lessons and sees the newest teacher was a traitor to the Republic 😭

Best if they can find Quin or Ventress out in the black. Partly because like. Does this make Ventress their step-grandma (Quinlan's on-off something) or their great-great-aunt (Dooku's 4th apprentice)?

Sammie: Both and also Luke's niece. Luke has a migraine by the end of it and Leia is ready to disown herself. Ventress: I didn't realize the Jedi were so incestuous Luke: war flashbacks to before he realized Leia was his sister

Ahsoka in the corner with Spacebucks, five years late "Y'all suck. Hey, Quin."

Sammie: I know you likely didn't bring up Quinlan thinking of QuinObi but now I'm imagining Quinlan declaring himself their grandpa when he meets the twins bc 1) he loves to cause chaos 2) he does/did consider Anakin his kid even if not in neat non Jedi terms and 3) Obi-Wan thought being considered Anakin's father made him sound old, and Quinlan needs to harass him beyond the grave

Dooku must have a cane that the ghosts heckle him about because He Clearly Wants To Be Just Like Yoda.

@lyntergalactic (Lyn) said:

I feel like evil gramps could really bring out Ahsoka's snark once she shows up and that would be highly entertaining Ahsoka is simultaneously his most and least favorite grandchild

She's the most experienced as a Jedi (Ventress went full Sith, not just leaving the Order but following the tenets like Ahsoka, and Quinlan isn't in the lineage), has never Fallen unless you count that thing on Mortis.

Also she WILL bitch Dooku out at this age, and honestly he kind of appreciates the brutal honesty.

Ahsoka: I'm not a Jedi. All the old people: Lies

She brings up the Hondo incident since nobody else is putting in the effort. Anakin and Obi-Wan COULD as ghosts but nooooooo she has to do everything around here.

Sammie: Oh but it sets them off so hard they can barely get the story off from laughing NGL I think the twins did not understand how truly annoying Obi-Wan and Anakin could be together until the Hondo story gets told.

They are The Worst.

#star wars #count dooku #luke skywalker #leia organa #asajj ventress #quinlan vos #quinobi #incest mention #(the canon incident)#quintress #obi wan kenobi #master yoda #anakin skywalker #force ghosts #phoenix posts

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whoopsyeahokay · 6 months ago

Text

October Sun

summary: it had been settled. everything had gone to shit and then everyone had had front row seats to watch how that'd happened. back in the theater, no one had known what to say, how to describe what they'd seen, how to reconcile that whoever had been behind the circumstances haunting Split River High could've been anyone.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.27

"Love this for me."

Charley scanned the area, confused, disoriented, nervous. We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto, he shuddered, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself as he began to trek in the direction he hoped would take him back to civilization.

This wasn't how he imagined finally being free from the school. Lost in the middle of nowhere, dense trees as far as the eye could see. There weren't many wooded areas around Split River. A couple of parcels here and there, wilderness parks, but not like this, and he had to wonder if the forest was actually native to the land.

Finally, he found a trodden path in the dirt and decided to follow it. What did he have to lose? There was no danger. He couldn't die twice. Food, sleep, shelter weren't required despite he and the others keeping up those habits in the afterlife at Mr. Martin's guidance. Still, what you'd mentioned on the rooftop the night before—about how your great-aunt or your mother could erase his soul from existence—made Charley paranoid.

What if he'd landed here just for an evil witch to use his ghost for some nefarious plan to make her young and beautiful again? He'd seen Hocus Pocus. And it didn't matter that he was technically too old for that spell to work. He was stuck at 17 until he moved on and he wasn't keen on having a wicked witch absorb him for the sake of vanity.

Which, okay, Charley reasoned, sounded ridiculous, but one couldn't blame him. After a tornado had manifested in the theater and he'd been transported to some creepy, dark forest alone; he wasn't going to criticize himself for the insane theories his brain churned out.

He followed the path until it brought him to a winding, unpaved road. Turning left, he trailed down the edge of it for what felt like hours. It'd started raining halfway through his journey to wherever the hell, and night had fallen before the road widened into a bare plot of land stretched in front of a dilapidated farmhouse, its shadow a fanged monster raking toward Charley's ankles.

"Oh, that's not freaky at all." Charley muttered, quickly glancing over his shoulder and debating whether or not to go back the way he'd come. The darkness blurring the unpaved road seemed to push toward him as if discouraging him from turning around. He groaned in despair, "I hate everything about this," wanting the universe to take pity on him and return him to—God help him—the safe and familiar halls of Split River High.

It was Movie Night, he winged internally, and Wally had agreed (with conditions) to watch Ghost—shut up—and Katelynn and Bernadette were in charge of snacks which meant there'd be a smorgasbord of good options because Mr. Martin always filled the table with carrot sticks and his homemade tuna salad ("Just like my mother's! Doesn't it taste like home?"—"Why is it in jell-o?"—the '50s were a heinous decade, Charley thought, green around the gills at the memory).

Today was supposed to be a good day. A day of progress. A day of togetherness. He and Rhonda and Wally, and now Maddie, a united front against the mystery of Maddie's.....well, not-death, Charley supposed, because you'd debunked that. But against the mystery of Maddie's situation, nonetheless.

Except he was here, wet and cold and lost; an Addams Family-esque farmhouse towering in front of him like a bad omen and no one to turn to for answers.

"It can't get worse," Charley sighed, about to ascend the first of the front steps.

As his foot set down on the wood, the screen door creaked and someone emerged, using their back to push the door open so they could exit. When they turned around, Charley nearly jumped for joy. He knew that face! That was your face! Your face... Charley reeled back. Your face was coated in blood. You were coated in blood. Hair, hands, jeans.

"What happened!?" He questioned, pitching toward you to scan you for injuries.

You didn't seem to be in any pain, not favoring a leg or curling over a gut wound. Beneath the thin red film on your face, Charley couldn't spot a gash, a cut, a scrape, nothing. He panned to the front door, speculating in startled flashes what lay beyond it. The color drained from his face as he thought about it and he decided, no thanks, he didn't want—didn't need—to know.

The most unnerving part, however, wasn't the Evil Dead amount of blood on you. It was how your eyes stared ahead, completely blank; the same dissociative gaze Charley had witnessed on Emilio's face in the wake of Charley's death. Like Emilio's mind had evaporated while his brain repressed every bad thing that'd ever happened just to keep him upright.

Charley wanted to ask if you were okay but the words lodged in his throat when he finally noticed that you had something—someone—bundled in your arms. Small, child-sized (probably because it was a child, Charley, he chided himself), wearing Spiderman rainboots and a Looney Tunes sweater. A queasy sensation flushed through him as he watched you fumble down the stairs, gaze fixed ahead, arms fastened around the little body.

When Charley shifted to follow you, the screen door creaked again then slammed closed. Another person hurried out, clomping down the steps to chase after you. Small. Child-sized. Spiderman rainboots and a Looney Tunes sweater. Charley's expression twisted with sorrow. He bit the inside of his lip as he turned and walked beside the little boy who contemplated his boots as he squelched through the mud.

"Where are we going?" The little boy asked you, stomping into and out of a puddle.

You answered, "I'm taking you home," your voice light as a feather and far, far away.

"Will mommy be mad at me?" The little boy paused, big green eyes on your back, worried that he'd be in trouble for...for what? Charley couldn't discern. For dying?

"No." You said, dragged your feet with effort, your Converse not made for soft, sinking ground. "She'll know what to do. She'll make it all better, Aiden, I swear." On the last word, your voice cracked, but your face didn't change, your gaze still distant.

Charley kept pace with the little boy, Aiden, until you came to the end of the unpaved road. You were shaking, probably freezing, soaked to the bone and in shock. The unpaved road intersected a tarred section of old, narrow highway, a rusted mailbox keeping vigil in the tall grass that lined the shoulder.

Part of the name was scraped away by time and weather. Still, Charley could make it out: Meheive. A name Charley had had hammered into his skull in Grade 7 History. The name of one of the three industry men who'd founded Split River in 1800.

"Oh," He commented mildly, "It gets freakier. Fantastic." Then, as he lifted his foot to continue after you, he simply couldn't. He tried again, again, again, walked in place as if on a treadmill while an invisible force kept him at bay. "Never mind," He gulped, "Now it's freakier." At least he wasn't being shot back to the cafeteria at speed, he mused glumly when he took the time to feel the identical vibrations he felt when he got too close to the barrier around the school.

Slanting his attention to the side, he saw Aiden standing alone, face pinched, lower lip trembling and eyes filled with tears. "Sissy May, wait... I can't follow you..." He stuttered several breaths, hands balled into fists at his sides. "Sissy May!"

You didn't turn around. "It'll be okay, Aiden. Mom will fix it. She'll know what to do." Charley heard you murmur, dreamlike, detached, as you began to walk along the shoulder of the highway, adjusting Aiden's weight in your arms. "She'll fix it..."

Charley came up beside Aiden, watching you blend into the dark the further away you got. Aiden sniffled, squeaked before he coughed out a sob. He craned his neck to look up at Charley in devastation. Briefly, Charley was surprised though that settled into sympathy the longer Aiden blinked those green eyes up at him.

"I don't want to be alone," Aiden whimpered and took Charley's hand, his grip limp, his fingers tiny.

There was nothing to say to that. Charley didn't want Aiden to be alone either, and if he had to stay with Aiden for eternity, he would. He knelt down and pulled Aiden into a hug, his voice wet as he said, "You aren't alone, buddy," the way he would've comforted his younger cousin, Luca.

Unfortunately, the moment the words slipped out of him, Charley was snatched away and dragged through the farmhouse door.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Where Charley couldn't follow, Ajay did. Down the shoulder of the unlit highway, stomach rolling as he observed how you swayed and stumbled as you pressed onward, Aiden's dead weight becoming more and more difficult to manage. A car had stopped, a woman had called out to you, and Ajay had heard her on the phone with the police, asking for help.

It was as if you hadn't heard her. Ajay doubted you had, the state you were in, mumbling gentle promises to your brother as you carried him home. "Mom will know what to do, Aiden..."

Twenty minutes came and went before an ambulance and two squad cars screeched to a halt meters in front of you, lights flashing, red blue, red blue, red blue.

When the EMTs tried to take Aiden from you, you put up a fight; kicked, gnashed, snarled, screamed. Not words, just noise, like a provoked animal. Deputy Baxter managed to get you in a submissive hold so an EMT could sedate you before he helped settle you into a stretcher. Strapped you in, just in case, the corners of his mouth severely turned down and his eyes shuttered to conceal the heartbreak Ajay had caught a glimmer of.

"Take them to St. Vincent's." Deputy Baxter instructed the ambulance driver. "I'll call their mother." He moved on to order the second unit that'd arrived with him to follow the ambulance, that he would check the road, "For anything that'll tell us what the hell happened here."

"Austin, are you sure you want to do it alone? If someone's responsible, they could still be out there. They could be armed." Deputy Hayes voiced her concern through the passenger-side window. She was new. Too new to understand that Sheriff Stallow had a protocol when it came to certain matters. Especially those involving your family and a handful of others.

A protocol that Deputy Baxter was responsible for overseeing himself. For a substantial fee, of course, pulled from a vault that had been collecting wealth since before Split River had been established.

Deputy Baxter shook his head and reassured, "I'm just going to see what I can find along the road. If anything comes up, I'll call it in." He straightened and peered down the highway in the direction you'd obviously come from, a deep-seated foreboding frosting beneath his skin.

He was at a crossroads, his gut told him. Something terrible waited for him in the dark and whatever choice he made to deal with it would change his life forever. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't. He just prayed to God that he'd still be able to be there for his own little boy in the after. That he'd have the chance to hug Xavier and tell him the world might not be safe, but his dad will always be there to protect him.

In the side mirror of his vehicle, Deputy Baxter stared at the retreating image of the ambulance and squad car as they blared down the highway toward the town. Once the sound of the sirens faded, he shifted the gear into drive, gravel crunching under the tires, and he drove to the only building in the area for miles.

Once Deputy Baxter was gone, Ajay vanished through the farmhouse door.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Question Five.

Does the Monster die?

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Simon's eyes flew open and he jolted upright, waking abruptly in a cold sweat. The sky was dark outside his closed window, his room pitched black, and his mother was tugging at his shirt.

He barely registered her words, you told the police you'd return the phone tonight, get up, as she fussed over him, fuming, lecturing him in Tagalog as she switched on the overhead light and pinned him with a strict expression.

He scrubbed his face to wake himself up. Dragged his hands through his hair, eyes drifting to his closet. He could've sworn... Hadn't there been...? The door was open and, apart from the two rails of clothes and the shoe rack, it was empty.

"Hurry up, iho! Before your father gets home." His mother commanded before she turned on her heel and left the room.

In English, Simon responded, "I'm going, I'm going..." and rose from his bed. He felt weak, exhausted despite having apparently slept through the day. Again, his gaze settled on his closet as if the person who'd been crying in there had just tucked themselves in the corner and would pop out any second now that the coast was clear.

But nothing happened.

Taking a deep breath, Simon stood and treaded to his closet. Just to make sure; just to see if it had really all been a dream. There was nothing inside to indicate anyone had been hiding there. No displaced clothes to suggest Simon had shoved them aside to get a better look at the little boy who'd quivered beside the shoe rack. No puddle from the rain that had dripped from the little boy's hair and Spiderman rainboots. No scuff marks in the carpet. No mud. No little boy.

"She's gonna hurt him," The little boy wailed into Simon's hip. "She's gonna take him and she's gonna hurt Sissy!"

Simon tripped backward, away from the closet, breath suddenly ragged as the memory flooded his mind. Because it had to be that. A memory. He'd had vivid dreams before, but never like that. He could still feel the little boy's tight grip around his waist, could still feel the wet and cold of the little boy's body through his Looney Tunes sweater when Simon had instinctually returned the embrace.

"She wants t'take them!" The little boy sniffed thickly, "You gotta help! You can't let her!" And then he added as if he'd been reprimanded enough times by his mommy, imploring "Pleeease!"

"Who are you talking about?" Simon asked. Leaned back and crouched so he was eye-level with the little boy, his hands holding the little boy's boney shoulders, "Who's going to get hurt?"

Simon grabbed his sweater and his car keys, calling out, "I'll be back soon," to his mother who'd installed herself in front of Wheel of Fortune. He had to get to the school. He had to see Maddie. To tell her what he'd dreamt or prophesized or hallucinated because, guess what, he'd apparently graduated from unwitting medium to Nostradamus.

As he trotted down the front walkway, he checked his phone. 7 missed calls from Nicole. 2 missed calls from Mathilda. 3 texts from Nicole asking the same question—are you okay?—and a novel from Mathilda that detailed the lessons he'd missed and what he'd have to make up for over the weekend, but don't worry, I'll help you. And 1 text from you. Short and sweet, sent that morning just after Simon had returned home from the police station.

"We found something to get Mr. A. I'll meet you at the bus stop when you get here."

Simon hoped it wasn't too late. That you'd stayed behind to wait for him even though he hadn't answered you. Unlikely, but he tried to remain optimistic, even as he took a moment to collect himself once behind the wheel of his car. That dream...it lingered like a bruise.

The little boy's voice stuttered through rough breaths, "Sh-she said she needs to find M-Maddie, but Maddie's gone, and that she c-can't use Sissy without Maddie. She can't do it w-without trapping more people."

Simon started the car and pulled into the road.

"What do you mean, 'gone'? You mean because Maddie died?" Simon pushed, but the little boy wasn't listening, sobbing about 'him' and 'Sissy' and how they were in danger. Simon grabbed the little boy's face between his palms, soft but firm, and God, his cheeks were so cold. He looked the boy straight in the eye, "What can't 'she' do without trapping more people?"

He rolled down the window to let the fresh air soothe his anxiety.

Eventually, the little boy quieted though tears continued to stream down his face, "She can't have a new body." He said in a little voice. "Now she needs more people because Maddie got away."

And what the gentlest fuck did that mean?

Simon still didn't know who the 'Sissy' and 'him' were that the little boy had referred to. The little boy had been too distressed to divulge their names, talking as if Simon should already know everything. Just 'Sissy' and 'him'. 'Sissy' and 'him' and Maddie and someone named Janet.

Did Simon know a Janet? He wracked his brain, trying to summon the names of everyone in his class who could have a connection to Maddie's death. There was a Jessica and a Jennifer and a Jayden. No Janet.

Then there was the matter of 'she' wanting a new body. Because that was sane. And impossible. Right...? Fuck, what if Maddie's death had been some nutcase's idea of a ritual sacrifice. What if another teenage girl was about to be murdered because, lo and behold, magic isn't real and Maddie just died instead of ceding her body.

The devil on Simon's shoulder quipped, "But ghosts are real," which, fair. If ghosts were real, surely they weren't the only eldritch phenomenon to exist in the world.

Maybe there were cursed mummies or body snatching aliens out there scheming to take over America via its youth. No child left behind. Jesus Christ. Simon was spiraling, brain spitting random images of every creature feature he'd ever seen at him. Had the little boy been trying to warn Simon about mummies? Aliens? Was it aliens!?

As he stopped at a pedestrian crosswalk, he stared—definitely too intensely—at the young woman who passed in front of his car. Like he could see straight to her bones and determine whether or not she was really human. The woman picked up her pace, shoulders up, head down, and folded her leather jacket tighter around her.

Don't be suspicious, Simon, he admonished himself, ashamed of his behavior, eyes darting to his lap until the woman was safely on the other side of the road.

"What even is my life anymore?" He wallowed. Ghosts and Mystery Inc. side-quests and pinning crimes on teachers. He felt he'd lived a hundred lifetimes in the last week and was seriously considering becoming a hermit the minute Maddie moved on.

There wouldn't be much reason to stick around after that anyway...

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Mina Volkov hadn't left the theater since 1987. She was a looper. She performed the same tasks every day, from morning to night to morning. She didn't sleep. She didn't eat—except for the paper bag lunch she'd brought with her the day she'd died. She didn't stray. Mina had to make sure that what had happened to her wouldn't happen to someone else.

There was safety in her loop. Not just for the living students she protected through her hard work, but for herself. Her loop allowed her mind to remain clear, focused entirely on the task at hand. She didn't have to think or reflect or question why her soul had lingered after being squashed by a stage light.

Rhonda had called it denial when she'd visited Mina a week after Mina's death. Rhonda had been sizing Mina up, prodding and poking to see how Mina would react.

Mina had simply gone about her safety checks and Rhonda had eventually gotten bored. And had never come back.

Sometimes, her loop veered off-course. Sometimes Mr. Martin came to check on her. Just to say hi. Never to invite her to those stupid meetings he hosted in the gym. The ones Ajay attended and would tell Mina about later when they picnicked on the stage or between kisses in the green room.

She liked Ajay. He was kind and thoughtful, and he respected her loop. He didn't complain when she prioritized double-checking the lighting cables and tightening ropes and cordage for the dropdown scenery. He'd simply sit and talk to her. Recite poetry or passages from books she never intended to read. Ajay was smart. Ajay was handsome. Ajay was...

Ajay was comatose. Slumped on the floor along with the others, his face, like theirs, twisted in anguish. Whatever measures Mina used to wake him up didn't work and she had no idea how to help. But she knew she needed to. Not because New Girl had brought Mina flowers. Or because Hawaiian Shirt Man had caused her so many headaches since the start of the school year and they'd found something to make him stop banging around under the stage. But because Ajay needed Mina to be brave.

He needed help and she was going to help him. Which meant Mina had to leave the theater. She had to find Mr. Martin.

Though Ajay often thought Mina didn't listen when he spoke, he was wrong. She held onto every word like a treasure that she'd tuck away in her heart and savor in the moments she was alone.

Mr. Martin took his privacy in the fallout shelter in the basement. Mina had been there before she'd died. Several times, in fact. It'd been an opening night ritual conducted an hour before curtain. The cast and crew piled downstairs and hid in the fallout shelter to pass around a spliff.

Mina hadn't been responsible back then, not like she was now. She'd partaken because she'd wanted to feel like part of the group when she'd so often felt like an outsider the actors and other crew members made fun of, "for being such an airhead, God, Mina, how many times do I have to repeat myself?"

Standing slowly, Mina regarded the theater door. Her heart slammed against her ribs, palms clammy as she tightened and loosened her fists. A comforting motion to calm her nerves as she stepped carefully to the door and placed her hand on the exit bar.

Mina hadn't left the theater since 1987. But today, she would.

For Ajay.

She spilled into the hall, the world spinning in her panic, and took off at speed to the other side of the school. Down two flights of stairs, through the door that led to the basement.

Most of the basement had been bricked off which had narrowed the hallway, making it feel like a catacomb. Poorly lit and spooky. The fallout shelter was at the far end, directly below the gym. Its door was open as Mr. Martin usually kept it. A practical solution given how regularly he had to come and go during office hours.

It hadn't been his idea originally. No. It'd been hers. The woman currently speaking through the janitor's mouth as she stared Mr. Martin down.

"I've canvased the area and several others every night since that traitorous little bitch escaped." Mr. South stated, "There's no sign of her."

Helplessly, Mr. Martin explained for the second time, "I don't know what you want me to do, Amelia. I've done everything you asked me. But my students need me to keep them present. I must prioritize the shift I noticed in the wakers."

Mr. South—Amelia—snarled, "I agree, Everett, but I'm not asking you to participate in a search and seize. I simply want you to tell me where that conniving piece of shit would have gone! She confided in you, you told me that. So, tell. me. where she's most likely to go!"

Mr. Martin shook his head, a cowardly expression miring his face, "I've told you everything I know, Amelia, please. I've given you her notes, her journal. Every piece of information I had is already in your hands."

Pained, "How have you allowed everything to unravel this much?" Amelia wanted to know

Quite unexpectedly, a frightened voice interrupted from the vault door, "Mr. Martin?"

Mr. Martin whipped his head to the side, his eyes going wide in panic when he saw Mina stood just over the threshold, inside the fallout shelter. What was she doing there?

She looked ashen. Scared. Shaking like a leaf in the wind. Her brown eyes slid away from Mr. Martin's face to rest on Mr. South for a second before returning to Mr. Martin.

Mr. Martin swallowed, opened his mouth to say something, anything to explain why he was mid-conversation with the living school janitor, when suddenly it didn't matter anymore.

Mr. Martin choked as he watched Mina glance down her body. Her chest seared like paper in a candle flame. She looked back up, fear contorting into betrayal, before she quietly burned away into oblivion.

Unable to reconcile what he'd witnessed, Mr. Martin merely stared at the spot Mina had just been standing, expression slack in horror. His chest rose and fell heavily, "Why?" he rasped, and it took every ounce of self-preservation not to lash out.

Behind him, Amelia lowered Mr. South's hand, scoffing, "Oh, don't look so sad, Everett. She didn't feel a thing," but Mr. Martin didn't believe it. Still, he was too intimidated to argue. He knew what Amelia was capable of.

Virtuously, Amelia commented, "We need someone to step in for Janet." A look of distaste, "Since it appears you truly are hopeless at managing things here on your own."

"I—" Can't, but he choked on the word, unwilling to say it aloud.

Amelia rounded on him, beautiful blue eyes flashing in anger, "I gave you everything you wanted, Everett, and, yet you repay me with failure."

"I haven't," Mr. Martin argued weakly.

"Oh? You've forgotten the one you let slip out of your grasp when we were so close to securing him. A problem I must now fix." She reminded him, "Don't forget this, you silly, little man. I can take away everything I gave you like this." She snapped her fingers as she stepped closer, Mr. South's nose practically touching Mr. Martin's. "You will do as I tell you, or all your little lambs will be slaughtered and I'll leave you here to rot. Alone."

And then she turned on her heel, her demeanor shifting to breezy and aloof.

"Do it soon. I can't afford any delays." In Mr. South's lumbering body, she picked across the floor like a debutante, "Time is valuable, Everett, especially mine." Then she was out the door and around the corner to return Mr. South's body to the storage room Mr. South used as his office.

Alone in the fallout shelter, Mr. Martin buckled to his knees.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Operating with half his mind still on aliens and mummies, Simon waited in the bus shelter. He was grateful you hadn't left, had responded to the text he'd sent when he'd arrived at the school: "See you in 5," you'd told him. At the metal crack of the side entrance opening, Simon stood up from the bench and faced the school. He frowned when he saw who emerged.

Steps uneven, Xavier exited the school. He stopped when he noticed Simon, stood still like a deer in headlights. Damn, Xavier looked like he'd seen a ghost. Pale and bug eyed and jittery.

They watched each other for a moment. Simon nodded his head in greeting. Xavier didn't return the gesture. Instead, he gazed down at his chest and then followed a trail to Simon's.

With a frightened look, Xavier lifted the hood of his sweater and veered toward the parking lot, skulking off with his head down.

A minute or so later, the door opened again and this time it was you. And Maddie. Together. Followed by a tall guy in a varsity jacket, a girl in a newsboy cap, and a boy with frosted tips wearing a lot of denim. The trio of strangers stayed by the door to watch as you and Maddie—together—approached Simon.

When you and Maddie were within earshot, Simon said, "Okay. What the hell is this?" To Maddie specifically, "How can I see you right now?"

Maddie shrugged, glanced at you, but you just kept your eyes on the ground.

"Not sure." You murmured, voice like air. You at least had the decency to look apologetic when you finally brought your gaze up to meet Simon's.

"So you can see ghosts." Simon stated, irritated.

"So can you." You returned, but your heart wasn't in it. In fact, you seemed as rattled as Xavier had been when he'd come out of the school.

Although he wanted to chew you out for having lied to him, Simon wanted to make sure, "Are you alright?"

His demeanor softened as he took you in. Puffy eyes, flushed cheeks, red nose. You'd been crying. And Simon would never be angry enough to let that trump being there for a friend who needed him. He bundled you into a hug, one hand rubbing your back, and asked Maddie with his eyes what was wrong.

In his periphery, he saw Varsity straighten and move to take a step forward. His friends each grabbed an arm and appeared to shut whatever idea he'd had down because he shifted back before shaking them off.

Urgently, Maddie told Simon they'd discuss everything, "Later," and ushered him back into the bus shelter. He kept an arm slung around your shoulders, a shoulder to lean on, though had to release you when you decided to lean against the interior glass. Simon took what was becoming his usual seat on the concrete base and Maddie folded herself onto the bench.

When neither you nor Maddie spoke, Simon took the lead, "Mr. Anderson totally played us," he began, glancing between you and Maddie. "I mean, the cops are convinced I helped Maddie run away."

Maddie immediately defended, "Seriously? That's—"

"I know. They only let me come back here because I promised I'd get Anderson's phone and turn it in."

You cleared your throat, "Okay, well, before you do that..."

Maddie continued where you trailed off, "I think we might've found something that can help maybe keep the cops off your back." She fished something out of her back pocket and handed it to you which you, in turn, handed to Simon.

Stunned, Simon gawked at the piece of paper, eyes darting between it, you, and Maddie several times before finally resting on the paper. "We're just...not going to acknowledge how insane this is?" He sputtered, flapping the paper to indicate what he meant.

"Just go with it for now, Si." Maddie implored, "Let's take down Mr. Anderson first."

"Yeah," Simon agreed and examined the paper. It was a receipt for new band uniforms.

He pulled out his phone when Maddie informed him he'd have to call the company the receipt was from and punched in the number. As the line connected, Simon cast to the three people at the school entrance. "Quick question, and not to alarm anyone, but who are they?" He asked as he waited for someone to answer the phone.

You and Maddie looked to the three people then at each other, Simon, the three people, each other, and ended with open-mouthed stares at Simon.

"They're dead, aren't they?" Simon deadpanned. You and Maddie nodded. Simon kissed his teeth. "Of course they are."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

After all was said and done, Simon had watched Wally—the tallest of the three ghosts Simon had seen outside—drape his varsity jacket over your shoulders and stamp a kiss to your head. Simon had seen Wally hold you protectively in the wake of Simon's impassioned announcement to the table of Split River High staff.

He'd heard Wally whisper comforting words and stroke your cheek with his thumb and, wow, you hadn't been joking about saving yourself for the hot ghost on campus.

It was a mindfuck, to be sure, but Simon adjusted. Or he was in shock. Toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe.

Wally had mentioned to the group at large as they huddled in the hallway that he and Charley—denim on denim—had needed to go lest Mr. Martin—whoever that was—get suspicious of their absence at Movie Night. Which could've been dead dove, do not eat, or could've been ghost code for watching the living go to the bathroom.

"Dude, we don't do that." Wally had cringed, offended.

Charley had raised his brows in consideration, "Well, not all of us."

Afterward, you, Simon, and Maddie had holed away in a classroom to watch Mr. Anderson be escorted into the back of a squad car. In a line at the window. Discussing in solemn tones what you and Maddie had seen in the theater. How it related to Mr. Anderson. How whoever was behind Maddie's death—no, not-death, Simon emended, since you'd brought him up to speed. How whoever was behind Maddie's missing body could be literally anyone.

That was if Maddie's circumstances were related to the terrors you and she had experienced in the theater earlier.

"What do you think's gonna happen?" Maddie asked faintly as she watched the deputy close the back door of the squad car.

"He'll be questioned," Simon said. "Probably arrested."

Angry, Maddie replied, "But not for abduction. Not for bodily injury." A weighted pause. "I swear to God, if he did this to me over some stupid band uniforms..."

His voice tinged with hope, "Maybe he'll confess."

"Or," Maddie offered the alternative, "You'll hand that phone over to the cops and we'll never know who he was working with. Or why he said he gave me money... I'll never know what really happened to me."

Maddie turned. As soon as she settled against the windowsill, you shuffled closer to her and put a supportive arm around her shoulders. Fuck if that didn't make Simon's heart ache. He wanted so badly to be the one to do that for her. To be there for her. To comfort her.

"We'll figure it out, Mads." You reassured, though you still looked haunted. You glanced over your shoulder, watched the flashing lights until they faded and then sighed. "This is going to sound awful right now, but..."

"You don't think Mr. Anderson has anything to do with me. Do you." Maddie said, and closed her eyes against the fact that there was so much more at play now. After the theater, it seemed Maddie agreed.

You shook your head apologetically, "I don't."

"And that's not just because he's your uncle's friend?" Simon ventured, studying you closely.

You shook your head, "No. I swear, Simon, I really think Mr. Anderson and whatever's actually going on are two separate things."

Simon believed you.

"Whatever he's involved in, maybe it'll bring us one step closer to what actually happened. We can't rule it out." He implored as he gazed between you and Maddie.

It couldn't be for nothing that they stumbled upon Mr. Anderson's secret. He might not have been involved in hurting Maddie or relocating her body without her in it, but he'd given her money for something.

"At least for now," Maddie said, gazing up at Simon, "some of the heat will be off you."

Her words struck Simon's soul. After everything she'd been through, she cared about what happened to him, and it made him yearn to show her how much that meant to him. Seeing you in Wally's varsity jacket gave him an idea. Slowly, he peeled off his sweater and hung it over the back of a chair. It wasn't enough, but at least he could do this.

"What are you doing?" Maddie asked.

Voice rough with emotion, Simon said, "I was thinking... I can't hug you, but my sweater can."

You pushed away from the window and positioned yourself between Maddie and Simon, voice pitched just as low as Simon's as if not wanting to disturb the somber atmosphere that had befallen the classroom.

"I can do you one better." You said with a small smile and placed one hand on Maddie's shoulder. Your held out your other hand to Simon which he took, curious as to what you were going to do. It seemed Maddie knew because she came closer and then—God—she wrapped her arms around Simon and held him tight.

Without a second thought, Simon returned her embrace with his free arm, putting everything he had into it. All the grief, all the solace, all the love. He hiccupped a weak sound of overwhelm and pulled Maddie as close to himself as he could. She felt warm. Alive. Like she was right there in her body.

With wet eyes, Simon peeked up at you, "Thank you."

"You're my friend, Simon." You said easily, "I'd do anything for you in a heartbeat."

He dragged you into the hug; you and he and Maddie holding each other, leaning on each other, needing each other. And for that small segment of time, the weight of the world didn't feel so heavy.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Everette Martin had always needed to be needed. Something he'd been denied in life.

His parents had never supported him, teaching a job for women, not men. The school had let him go due to a rumor that another teacher circulated when she'd caught him outside of school and misunderstood that he'd been helping a student. His fiancé had turned her back on him because she couldn't 'see a future' with him anymore as a result.

All he'd ever wanted was for people to look to him for guidance, accept his help, rely on him. Life had been a disappointment.

In death, however, he thrived.

He loved his students like his own. He knew Amelia had her reasons for collecting them. She'd framed it as a gift. Allowed Mr. Martin to nurture them so long as he stuck to a short list of rules. Rules he agreed to because, if he didn't follow them, his students would inevitably leave him just as everyone else had.

Yes, Everett knew Amelia had something sinister up her sleeve, likely involving his students, but it'd already been 65 years and nothing had happened, so he assumed her plans didn't involve him or them. That she needed them simply to exist within the school to keep it sick. The presence of lingering death has that effect on a place, Amelia had chuckled prettily.

Amelia's powers were connected to the sickness in the land, and to maintain them, Everett had to maintain the status quo amongst the school's ghosts. A job he took seriously as well as reveled in.

He was so proud of them all, even the loopers. Such a contrast of personalities somehow finding common ground in the afterlife. It was marvelous to behold how they sparked friendships they probably wouldn't have had in life.

Especially Rhonda. Her death had turned her sour and Everett had had to be extra patient with her. At least she continued to join the Group sessions, and had made friends in Charley and Wally. Anything else, though, was a hard sell. She stubbornly refused to participate in activities unless they resulted in chaos and drama.

Which was why Everett was surprised when Rhonda marched into the gym and pulled up a seat.

It wasn't the first unusual thing Everett had noticed of his Group that night. He had the sense that something felt off. Ajay had been morose when he'd entered, but Bernadette and Katelynn had puppy piled him on the stack of gym mats and were comforting him with cuddles.

Always upbeat and charismatic Wally had been reserved until halfway through the film. Perhaps he was truly taken by Demi Moore's performance, though Everett suspected there was more to it.

Charley hadn't made any sarcastic comebacks to Everett's purposefully cheesy jokes about the film before he'd played it, either. Studying Charley and Wally, Everett had entertained the idea that the two had had a falling out. Teenagers were fickle beings. Even those in their forties and fifties.

Of course, Everett could be seeing things that weren't there. Reading too much into every small shift in behavior because he'd been on edge since Amelia's impromptu visit. A shiver ran through him, cold as ice, as he recalled what he'd witnessed and what he'd been ordered to do.

Banishing the memory, he forced a smile to his face, "Rhonda. You usually boycott movie night."

Rhonda stiffened in her seat, gaze fixed determinedly on the screen even if it seemed to go against every value she'd upheld up to that point.

"Is everything alright?" He probed when she didn't say anything.

Rhonda took her time to answer, but eventually, "I've been here for sixty years. Sixty graduations," She explained, jaw tense, as if her words were being forced out of her.

Rhonda rarely shared and, when she did, she'd smother the sentiment beneath myriad barbed wire remarks and threatening stares so no one examined what she'd revealed too closely.

As Rhonda disclosed what had motivated her to join Movie Night, Everett heard Amelia's voice in his head, "I need someone to step in for Janet."

"—I've made my peace with it because nothing changes...but now..." Everett listened, giving Rhonda his full, undivided attention. Rhonda didn't elaborate on how her views had shifted, rather redirecting to claim, "I know I'm not always a joiner but," her voice was raw, "I gotta get outta here."

She was outright doing her damnedest to hold back tears and it shook Everett to his core. The sight made Mina's image flash in his mind, the pain and fear in her eyes as she'd silently begged him to help her before being disintegrated into nothingness.

When Rhonda admitted, "I'm willing to try anything," Everett was brought back to the present, Mina fading from his mind.

What Rhonda said next made his smile falter, a pang of regret in his heart. He wasn't sure how he felt about 'replacing Janet'. He had a vague understanding of what Amelia had been doing with Janet and it unsettled him.

But, there was nothing else for it, his hand forced, because Amelia would find a way, with or without him, and without him could potentially be brutal.

It was easier when the participants were willing. But Rhonda needed to say it right. She needed to mean it without Everett's direct interference.

And, just like that, she did.

He ignored how his gut wrenched as he heard Rhonda speak into the ether, "So, whatever you did to help Janet, I want in."

He felt Rhonda's words vibrate through the veil. He forced another smile. However, turning back to the screen, his smile faded completely as Mina's final moments crowded his mind again. The fear. The helplessness. One of his students...gone.

His conscience kicked and screamed and berated him. Challenged him. Brought his face right up to the hundreds of mistakes he'd made leading up to Mina's permanent erasure from all planes of existence.

Everett had had no choice, a milder, more detached part of him reminded, and it was too late to undo what'd already been done. If he wished to continue guiding his students—teaching them, guiding them—he had to stay the course.

With that in mind, he offered Rhonda his bowl of popcorn and told her, "I'm glad to hear it."

💀___________fin.____________

PART TWENTY-SIX - OCTOBER MOON

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Note

I have a hotch request and if you don’t write it I completely understand☺️

So you’re dating hotch for a couple months and you’ve only went over to his house like 5-6 times(so that’s how many times you’ve hung out with jack) anyway, you go to use the washroom or something before you leave to go home and jack asks his dad if you’re his gf and if you’ll be having a sleepover with them (as you’ve never actually stayed there before) and his heart becomes all warm n fluffy

A/N: Hi! I don't usually write for Hotch, but I decided to give it a crack because this fits pretty well for @imagining-in-the-margins KidFic challenge! It was a fun challenge to write, so thanks for the prompt! I changed it up slightly, but I hope you still enjoy it!

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, step-family dynamics, etc.

10 months of casual dinners, midnight strolls, and stolen kisses, and you still weren't ready to accept that you were in love with your boss.

Aaron Hotchner was a complicated man, and loving him wasn't as simple as your heart wanted it to be. You worked together but rejected any favouritism he may have shown you. You slept together, but you never stayed in his bed. You kissed him, but you never told him you loved him, even though you were sure you did.

You just weren't sure you were ready to be a stepmother.

As a child of divorce, you'd been graced with two step-parents growing up, and while neither were story book evil, they weren't exactly the most welcoming either. You'd bounced between your mother and father's houses, trailing duffle bags, afraid to take up too much space for fear of ruining your parents’ newfound and direly earned happiness.

Jack had the misfortune of being both a child of divorce and having lost his mother entirely too young and entirely too suddenly.

When you'd joined the BAU, off the back of Haley Hotchner’s death, Aaron had been a man in mourning, a man scarred by circumstance and regret. But he'd been brave, and he'd been loving, and he'd worked so hard to give his son a good life.

Five years later, and it seemed obvious now that you had at least respected the man from the very beginning, if not pined for him quite openly.

There was that final hurdle left to cross, though, and you weren't sure if you'd ever be ready to do so.

A phone call startled you out of your worries as you sat on your couch, dissociating after a long and hard won case. The shrill ring startled you into action as you frantically searched for wherever it was this time that you left your phone.

“Hello, yes, I'm here, hi,” you said, finally finding the phone abandoned under some couch pillows.

“Y/N, it's Aaron.”

“I know, Aaron. Caller ID, welcome to the 21st century,” You couldn't help smiling into the receiver, so smitten with the man your face was just doing whatever it liked.

“Right. Look, I wouldn't usually overstep like this, but Jessica and I have to go upto Roy's retirement house, he's not dealing too well with the new environments, and all of Jack's regular babysitters are enjoying the spring weather. I'd ask his friends' moms for an impromptu playmate but-”

“But you'd rather he be with someone you trust? Aaron, it's fine, I'll come over and watch Jack for a few hours.”

He sighed into the receiver, and after a few more niceties, you ended the call, still grinning like an idiot.

You were still grinning like an idiot when your earlier anxiety came back and hit you straight in the chest. You'd met Jack before, but you'd not so subtly avoided any kid based conversations and meet-ups for the last 10 months.

You had no idea how to entertain a nine year old boy, but you decided quickly that you couldn't half ass it.

The drive to Hotch's house was almost embarrassingly familiar to you now, having been there so often in the past few months. Jack enjoyed regular sleepovers with his aunt and schoolmates so you could enjoy regular sleepovers with his father, a fact that you had to remind yourself to keep private as you knocked on the door.

“It's open,” Aaron called from inside, and you hesitantly opened the door and stepped in, bag of last-minute toy purchases stuffed under your arm.

From the door, you could see Aaron in the kitchen, hands deep in soapy water as he washed lunch dishes and pots, sticking his head out to smile at you.

“Aaron Hotchner, domestic goddess. Who’d have thought?”

“I'd ask you to keep this to yourself at work.”

“Of course,” you said, stepping a fraction closer to him. “Anything to keep the mystery alive.”

He leaned in for a quick kiss, and you reciprocated, letting it linger a second as you smiled into his touch.

Drying his hands on a towel near him, Aaron called across the apartment for Jack.

“What's up, Dad?” He asked, peeking out of his bedroom door.

“This is Y/N. She works with me and Uncle Rossi. She's going to take care of you for a while while me and Aunt Jessica and I visit your Grandpa. Come say hi.”

Creeping out of his room slowly, Jack came to stand just in front of his father's legs as Aaron put his hands on his shoulders, proudly showing off his mini doppelganger.

“Hi, I'm Jack.”

“Nice to meet you Jack, my name is Y/N.” You stuck out your hand, and he shook it. You noticed how small his hands were, but how strong his grip was. He was confident, but he was still just a small kid, and you were even more motivated not to mess this up.

“What's in your bag?” He asked, flicking his eyes down to it every few seconds, as if he was itching to stick his nose right into it.

“Jack, manners, please.”

“It's okay, Hotch. I brought some toys. Your dad mentioned that Santa's gave you a Nintendo at Christmas, and I thought I'd show you a few of my favourite games.”

His face lit up as he quickly stepped closer to you, hands on the bag as he waited for you to offer it up, now openly ogling the bags contents, knowing it was for him.

“You didn't have to bring anything, Y/N.”

“I wanted to make a good first impression.”

After being dragged to the nearest sofa and sitting through a five minute walk through of all the house rules, urgency exits and remote locations, you were left alone with Jack Hotchner, remotes in hand ready to play Mario Kart.

“Okay, now all that's left to do is choose the course you want to race on. Which one do you want to play on?”

Jack had chosen to use Bowser as his character and chosen Toadette for you quite cutely, and you'd quickly finished cart selection, too.

“We should go through them in order, so we complete them all,” he said after a moment of deliberation.

You giggled at how seriously he was taking it. And then the first race in the Mushroom Cup started, and you were seriously impressed by how quickly he'd picked up this game. Either kids were just better at video games in general, or you had a prodigy on your hands.

His serious face was a carbon copy of Hotch when he was hunched over paperwork, and he gave you the same quietly disapproving frown every time your character momentarily overtook his. It was adorable seeing the two reflected in one another.

By the shell cup, you were nearly exhausted, despite having spent the entire time glued to the couch.

“What do you think about taking a snack break?” You asked, looking over Aaron Jack, who had turned himself upside down on the couch somewhere in the last three matches and was still beating you.

“Okay. I'll show you where Dad hides the good snacks,” he said, quickly rolling off the couch as if his bones were liquid.

You, on the other hand, cracked as you stood, the irony not lost on you as you hobbled your way to the kitchen.

Opening the cupboard under the sink, Jack routed around for a few seconds before returning with a small box of Reeses Pieces, which you gradually accepted alongside a glass of apple juice.

“You're a good kid, Jack,” you said, ruffling his hair as he playfully swatted your hand away.

“Yeah, that's what my dad always says.”

“Your dad is a very smart man.”

He nodded and then went back to quietly eating his candy, somewhat lost in thought.

You weren't sure if you were supposed to ask him what he was thinking about, or avoid the topic and dive straight back into video games, so you just ate your candy, too, standing together in the kitchen, Mario Kart music playing in the background.

“Do you like my dad?” He suddenly asked, swallowing down one more bite of apple juice. You'd forgotten that kids were the bluntness people on the planet, not yet having learned the necessity of delicately creeping closer to the actual topic of discussions like adults.

Jack had landed a sucker punch right to your guy, and you were suddenly choking on Reese's Pieces.

“Umm,” you said, catching your breath again and hoping your embarrassment wasn't plain as day on your face. “Yes, I respect your father a lot, Jack.”

“But do you like him?” He said again, eyes wide and expectant as he looked up at you.

“My dad can be a little scary sometimes. I heard some of my friends' moms saying so at Mitchell C's birthday party last week. They said he's scary, but he's so sad and lonely.”

Your heart sank in your chest as you watched Jack worry about his dad, worry if Aaron Hotchner was lonely or sad.

“Jack, your dad isn't lonely or sad. He has you, and Aunt Jessica, and-”

“And you, right? Because you like my dad?”

“R-Right. He has me, too.”

“Great. Let's keep playing. The Banana Cup is next.”

As suddenly as it had started, your serious talk with Jack was over and he bounced his way back to the sofa, clicking go on the next race, as you ran to quickly take your place again, too.

Five hours later, and you were being shaken softly awake, controller still in your hands as you blinked your eyes open. Somehow, it had gotten dark, and both you and Jack had simultaneously fallen asleep on the couch.

Now Hotch hovered over you, carrying the sleeping boy in his arms as he woke you up. He mouthed ‘coffee?’ and you nodded quickly, sitting up further and grabbing the nearest remote to turn off the Nintendo.

With Jack situated in bed quickly, you made your way to the kitchen. Aaron joined you after making sure Jack was still asleep, walking up behind you and wrapping two arms around your middle, leaning his head against your shoulder and exhaling. Despite the shiver down your spine, you leaned further into him, enjoying the feeling of him in your sleepy state.

“How was it?” He asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. You were almost sure that he was conducting this conversation from behind as a means of convincing himself not to read into your every movement and expression.

“It was great. He's a great kid, you know?”

“So I've been told.”

“He's worried about you, too. He said the moms at his school think you're scary and lonely. Which in suburban house mom translates to romantic hero, though I don't think he realizes that.”

You felt the grumble of a laugh behind you, the sound low and comforting as you let your eyes flutter closed again, content in his arms.

“Jack…misses his mom. Rebecca is great, but he likes talking to the moms at school. Maybe a little too much, I don't know.”

“You miss her, too.” It was a statement, not a fact.

“I do,” he said sadly, holding you tighter. “Is that a problem?”

“No. No, god no. Aaron, I-” your voice broke, and you hesitated slightly, clearing your voice. You squirmed in his grip until he released you enough to face him.

Doing so may have been a mistake, though, as you locked eyes with him and so desperately wanted to kiss him, to claim his mouth with yours, and let him lift you onto his kitchen counters.

You squeezed your nails into the palm of your hands to ground yourself and took a steadying breath.

Which was when Jack decided to make a reappearance.

“Dad?” He said groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you had only moments earlier.

You quickly broke apart as Aaron smiled disappointedly, almost as if he were expecting the interruption.

“Hey, bud. Did you sleep well?”

Jack nodded, tilting his head a little as though still disorientated.

“Did I fall asleep on the couch?”

“Sure did. Both of you, actually.”

Jack looked at you then and smiled sweetly up at his dad.

“So Miss Y/N is staying tonight?” He asked, suddenly a little excited and expectant.

“Well, Miss Y/N has her own house, so we can't just expect her to-”

“Yeah, I'm staying,” you blurted out, cutting off Hotch mid-sentence. He raised an eyebrow at you, but you ignored him and smiled down at Jack.

“And if you head back to bed now, I'll make some pancakes for you in the morning,” you whispered conspiratorially with the boy, who raced back to his room.

Before shutting the door fully, he stopped by his dad and tugged him down to whisper level, saying something before yelling goodnight and taking himself back off to his room.

“What? What was that?” You pouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Aaron.

“You first,” he laughed back, leaning on the nearby counter.

“I promised him pancakes in the morning. What did he say?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, pulling you closer to him again. “He just said you had an interesting conversation earlier.”

“Was it the one where he asked me if Mario speaks English, Italian or Japanese, because I couldn't answer that question for sure.”

“He said,” he leaned down to your ear to whisper the next words. “That you told him you like me. And he thinks you meant like-like.”

You flushed hot and avoided eye contact. A childish part of you wanted to deny it, to scoff and run away, like you were on the playground and not in a dimly lit kitchen at midnight. But you couldn't.

“I do. But I'd probably say love and not like-like, seeing as though I'm not nine.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered, noses touching as he descended to capture your lips once more.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

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byeoltoyuki · 17 days ago

Text

LET THE WORLD BURN

↳ Pairing: Felix x reader

❧ Genre: enemies to lovers (kind of), friends to lovers, fluff, smut, a tiny tiny bit of angst, witch reader, demon felix

❧ Words: +19k

❧ Warnings: captivity , mention of injuries, blood, oral (f, m), unprotected sex, clit slapping

❧Summary : They told you he was evil, that he deserved his fate. You disagreed. He became your friend, your confident and you made him a promise that one day you'll find a way to set him free. You just didn't expect to fall in love along the way.

❧ A/N: It's finally doooone. It took me months to write and the result could have been better. Hopefully you'll enjoy our sweet Felix ♥

☆☆☆☆☆

6 years old,

Whoever thought that telling a kid not to do something was a good idea, was an idiot. (In this case, your aunt, Lauren, was the idiot.)

Even more so when the kid in question lived among witches. Even more when the said kid was surrounded by so many curious creatures. Even more so when the said kid loved magic and couldn’t resist its call.

“Under no circumstances, you’re allowed to go to the basement. Do you understand, Y/N?” She had told you, arms crossed over her chest, scowling as you stared at her with your big, innocent eyes.

Out of habits, you nodded, but a tiny voice whispered, ‘let’s visit it later.’

You were six and a very curious kid. Did they really expect you to obey? Did they expect you to stay in your room and ignore all the commotion downstairs? Did they really expect you to ignore all the whispers and the heavy scent of magic? Foreign and strange magic. Whatever was going on in the basement, it made you both nervous and excited.

You waited in your room, your ear glued to the door, trying to listen to the noises, waiting for the right moment for you to leave your room and explore. You knew if you got caught you would be in trouble. But did it really stop you? Absolutely not.

“Is it really safe?” You heard a familiar voice in the hall.

“Of course, it is.” Your aunt snapped and you could easily imagine her face turning red from anger. She hated when other witches doubted their power. “We used the best and strongest spells to trap him in the basement. He will never see the light until we decide so.”

You pricked up your ears at the mention of him. Whoever he was, your aunt Lauren definitely hated him. But then again, your aunt didn’t like many people. She didn’t even like you; blood or not blood, you were a nuisance she would gladly get rid of.

“And how long,” The other witch tried again, her voice getting shaky, obviously nervous around your aunt. “are we keeping him?”

“It’s none of your business.”

And with that the conversation was over.

You waited for some more minutes, still listening, making sure everybody had left or hopefully went to sleep so you could sneak out of your room and look for whoever was the he.

You stepped out of your room and darkness welcomed you in the hall. It didn’t matter. It didn’t scare you. You knew every creak in the wooden floors, every corner, every secret passage of this house like the back of your hand. Grinning, you hurried to go downstairs only stopping to check for any noise.

You pushed the door leading to the basement, glanced over your shoulder one last time and then closed the door behind you, letting another kind of darkness to engulf you.

You went down. And down. And down.

Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. Magic was in the air; you could taste it on your tongue. You could almost touch it. It was like nothing you had ever felt. It was old and dark and ominous. The kind of magic that made the hair on your arms stand and made your senses recoil in disgust. You didn’t like it and even at six years old, you understood it wasn’t something good.

As you reached the basement, darkness vanished, replaced with hundreds of lit candles spread all around the place. Some in circles, some scattered across the room. And there, right in the middle of the room, right in the middle of a circle, someone was lying on the ground, next to a bed. You slammed your hand over your mouth to stop the gasp that was dying to escape your lips.

But he heard.

You didn’t know how, but he did. He stood up, eyes burning bright, ready to pounce, snarling at your presence. You yelped in response, your body moving on its own, taking few steps back, stumbling.

The wise thing to do was to turn around and run back to the safety of your room and never return. But there was just something. A pull you couldn’t ignore even if you tried. You willed your heart to calm down. You willed your body to obey and take a step toward the young man. You could totally do it.

“Who are you?” You asked, tilting your head as you tried to see more of him.

He completely ignored your question and instead growled louder, sounding more threatening with every passing seconds. But you refused to cower. You were young but afraid you were not. You took another step, and then another – he snapped. He pounced so fast and yet he never reached you. He was shoved back on the ground by invisible hands.

Grunting, he tried to resist and to get up but more he tried and worse it got. You cried out at the sight of blood pooling around him.

“Stop it.” You whispered, horrified. You didn’t know whether you were asking the magical barrier to stop hurting him or if you were asking him to stop resisting.

But he didn’t listen. He refused his fate. He was a fighter, so he fought with everything he had. Over and over again.

You stared at him, feeling hopeless and sad. “Stop it! It’s hurting you!”

But he refused to listen to you. You were torn between wanting to get close to him, knowing it was dangerous, and running away in hope he would stop his attempt at getting out. But before you could decide what to do, he stopped and fell on his knees. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him anxiously. He was panting hard, fist clenched. And all the blood. You shivered at the sight.

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest at the sight, at the sound he made, at his pain. You couldn’t explain why it affected you so much but you desperately wanted to do something for him. Anything to sooth his pain.

“Let me help you.” You found yourself saying, finding your courage. Not that you knew how to help him. Not yet.

He growled in response, not looking at you.

What can I do? You were too young to use magic and even if you could, you weren’t sure he would let you come close enough without trying to attack you. Even if he looked exhausted. But maybe you could bring something to help him.

“I’ll be back.” You promised, realizing that he probably didn’t care whether you came back or not.

☆☆☆☆☆

As a six years old kid, you barely knew what a wounded man needed to feel better, but you were resourceful. You stopped to think about all the time you got hurt and how adults helped. You obviously couldn’t use magic to heal him yourself and you weren’t sure he would let you approach him anyway, but you had something stocked in your room for emergencies: magical compress. You gathered all the compresses you had along with snacks and a bottle of water, hoping it could help.

You returned to the basement more determined than ever.

The moment your eyes landed on the young man, you halted, forgetting for a second how to breath. Now that he was no longer fighting, the candles illuminated his face. The man before you was beautiful; angelic face, even with blood in the corner of his mouth, even with his eyes expressing his fury. You imagined easily that he would look like a perfect prince charming without all the blood and angry vibes.

“I’m back.” You managed to say and resumed walking steadily towards him, trying not to wince at all the blood around him.

He sat still on the floor but at least he wasn’t snarling at you anymore – you took it as a small victory. Maybe, he had come to realization that you were just a kid and meant no harm or maybe, he was simply too tired and hurt.

He watched you in silence, letting you approach the circle that had him trapped in this place. You wondered if he contemplated the idea of attacking you again, but you refused this thought to stop you from doing what you came for.

“I brought you this.” You showed him the small bag. “I-I’m too young to use magic but I have some useful-“ you hesitated on the word. “Things? Supplies?” You put the bag on the floor and pushed it towards him, making sure not to step into the perfectly drawn circle.

He slowly averted his eyes from your face to the bag, eying it suspiciously.

“The compresses are magical; they will help you to heal and then will dissolve so…My family won’t find out I helped you.” You explained, your voice barely a whisper.

“Aren’t you scared?” He asked, his voice so deep, you shivered.

Well, you were a little worried about your grandmother finding out about your little visit here but you knew you were doing the right thing. “Of?”

“Me?”

“No?” You tilted your head. Obviously, you should be. Whatever he did to upset your coven, he was now a prisoner and you should probably be more wary of him. But you just couldn’t. More you looked at him and more it seemed wrong to keep him locked. More you wanted to be his friend and not enemy. “Should I?”

He watched you for a moment, trying to detect any lies in your voice, trying to find any trace of fear in your body language. And found none. “Maybe I’m as bad as they think. Maybe I’ll catch you and hurt you.”

Maybe. But it was still not enough to scare you. “I’m scared of bugs.”

He blinked in confusion at your words.

“And scared of auntie Lauren’s food. It’s bad. So bad, I think I might die.”

He opened his mouth and closed it, completely taken off guard.

“I’m scared to be alone.” You admitted more quieter this time and wasn’t it your biggest fear? Despite being just a kid, you didn’t feel at your place. You didn’t feel like you belonged to this place. To this family.

You shook your head, refusing your fears to dampen your mood. You smiled at him, standing at the limits of the circle. “But I’m not scared of you. I think they’re wrong about you.” And just to prove to both yourself and him (and it was probably the dumbest thing you had ever done) you stepped inside the circle and outstretched your hand towards him. “I’m Y/N.”

He stared at you and then at your hand, completely dumbfounded. Here was a tiny little witch, fearless, smiling. He could so easily hurt you, or worse, just to have his revenge. But he couldn’t do it. Not when you smiled so hopeful at him. He chuckled to himself, resigned and took your hand. “I’m Felix.”

☆☆☆☆☆

7 years old,

There were many reasons that made you visit Felix almost every night. He was nice, charming, gentle, and patient, and looked like a prince. Even at seven years old you couldn’t help but think that one day you would like to fall in love with someone like him. But what you probably loved even more about him was the stories he would share with you. About his life, about the world outside waiting for you to explore. About the magic and different creatures living among you. You were a curious little thing, and you couldn’t help but ask for more.

But being a kid also meant that one day or another you would get caught. It was a miracle nobody had noticed you sneaking around for one whole year. Or maybe they did and didn’t mind – you doubted that.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Your aunt’s Lauren harsh voice echoed from behind you as you were about to push the door leading to the basement.

You froze right on the spot, a deer caught in the headlights. Very slowly you turned around to face your aunt’s wrath. She had her hands on her hips, a deep scowl on her face. Yeah, she wasn’t very happy with you. You gulped and tried to come up with an explanation. But really, what could you say in your defense?

She caught your arm and squeezed it too tightly, making you wince at the sting. You glanced at your arm and could already see your skin reddening. It was going to bruise later. “You’re coming with me.”

You could protest, you could cry, you could beg but it wouldn’t change the outcome. Your aunt dragged you, cursing under her breath. You knew where she was heading, and you dreaded the moment you would face your grandmother. She loved you; she was your only family left, but sometimes she made you feel bad about you. About how different you were from other witchlings. But above all, you hated disappointing her. You hated the look she would give you whether you did something bad or unworthy of you and your coven.

Aunt Lauren opened the door to your grandmother’s study and pushed you inside. You stumbled inside almost falling and making acquittance with the floor. You glared at your aunt, scowling, trying to look annoyed but she only scoffed and closed the door behind her as she followed you inside.

“You were right. She tried to get to the basement.” Aunt Lauren announced to your grandmother. You felt her eyes on your back. A hard and disapproving gaze, you bet.

Your grandmother, on the other hand, let out a long and tired sigh. She closed her grimoire and then slowly raised her head to look at you. You flinched as you dared to meet her eyes and you regretted it instantly.

That look was what you were afraid of. She looked sad and disappointed and a little bit upset. You squirmed under her gaze, wishing for the floor to open and swallow you whole. You didn’t want to face her. You didn’t want to have this conversation with her because you wouldn’t be able to understand her hatred. Because you didn’t want her to say bad things about Felix. And because she would see your feelings written all over your face. And your feelings would get you in even more trouble, you just knew it.

Your grandmother moved from her chair and slowly approached you. Without even looking at aunt Lauren, she dismissed her with a flick of her hand.

You averted your eyes, finding the floor suddenly more interesting, and waited for her harsh words. You could feel her eyes on you but for a moment she said nothing which made you only more nervous.

“My sweet child. Do you know what you did wrong?” She asked, calmly, composed.

‘No’ you wanted to say, because in your eyes you did nothing wrong but that would get you into even more trouble - you nodded your head.

She sighed and took few slow steps towards you. “I am not angry with you, Y/N. Just disappointed.”

“I’m sorry.” You tried to sound sincere. You wanted her to believe you, because deep inside you were far from being sorry.

“Y/N. You are my precious grand-daughter and my only heir. You can’t do something so reckless and so foolish. This demon has many reasons to hurt you.” She explained.

No, he doesn’t. But I bet he wants to hurt you. You didn’t like to think about what Felix could do to your family if he was released but you hated seeing him hurt just as much.

“He’s a vicious demon.”

No, he’s not. And that was a truth you believed in with your whole heart.

“You’re still young; he could have used you. Corrupt you.”

He had a whole year to use me. And he never did.

“Stay away from the basement.”

You wouldn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. “Yes, grandmother.”

☆☆☆☆☆

Going to the basement in the middle of the night for the upcoming week became impossible. Despite your promise not to visit him any longer, your grandmother still took some additional measures to make sure you would keep your promise. Every time you sneaked out to check if you could visit Felix, you found a witch stationed by the door. It upset you, but you expected it. Did it deter you? No. You just had to be a little more creative and patient. They expected you to go in the middle of the night. But did they expect you to go before dawn? Certainly not.

You waited a whole week, making sure nobody was watching you and then you acted.

The moment you stepped in the familiar warm room, a big smile spread on your face. “Felix!”

You didn’t think twice; you ran and jumped right into his arms. He easily caught you and laughed at your warm hug. He squeezed you tightly in his arms, welcoming your warmth and genuine happiness at seeing him.

“You’re back.” He whispered, relieved.

You pulled back and frowned. “Of course, I’m back!”

10 years old,

The day your magic emerged was supposed to be one of the best days of your life. You could finally use magic, be tested to check your level and finally start learning how to use your powers. Except, it ended up to be the worst day of your life.

Who could have predicted that the granddaughter would be such a disappointment? Who would have thought that the bloodline would fail so spectacularly? Not only you had always been different from the others, whether in your behavior or your thinking, but now turned out you were also the weakest witch in the coven and that was the biggest disappointment.

You couldn’t care less that your magic wasn’t as impressive as your grandmother’s, you were happy with what you got. But this day became the worst day of your life because it showed people’s true colors. Nobody truly cared for you. No, they cared for what you were supposed to become, for the power you were supposed to have. Now? Now, you were just a weak witch and no longer a suitable heir.

But what hurt you the most was the look in your grandmother’s eyes. You thought she loved you, cared for you. She disregarded you so quickly, like you were a nobody and not his blood. His family.

“What happened?” Felix hurried to ask the moment he saw your red eyes.

Would he too be disappointed? Would he too show his true colors if you told him the truth?

You wanted so badly to jump into his arms and tell him everything, but you held back. You were scared of what he, too, would think once he found out the truth about your weakness. You stepped into the circle, your fists clenched tightly. “They tested my magic today. Turns out, I’m the weakest witch in the story of my family. What a disappointment.” You couldn’t hide your bitterness.

“Oh Y/N.” He took a step towards you but you took a step back, unable to stop yourself. He stopped right away. You never tried to avoid him. To avoid his eyes.

“I guess they all expected me to be great like my grandmother. I was special. And now suddenly I’m a nobody. Even my grandmother rejected me. And for what?” You plopped down on the ground, feeling suddenly incredibly tired.

Felix joined you on the floor and took your hands gently. “You are special.” That made you raise your head, in surprise but also ready to protest. Your words died on your tongue as you saw the look in his eyes. Felix was worried but also truly upset on your behalf. “Powerful or not, it doesn’t change who you are, Y/N.” Seeing that you were no longer avoiding him, he moved a little closer. “You’re a bright and lovely young lady. You have a big heart. Don’t let them dim your light.”

And they dared to say he was evil. You truly couldn’t understand them.

Felix’s words warmed your heart and soothed your pain. You squeezed his hands back, thanking him silently.

Maybe you were indeed a weak witch. But your powers had finally awoken and there was still one thing you could do. “I’ll find a way to free you.”

☆☆☆☆☆

12 years old,

A tiny part of you knew visiting Felix while being in this state was a really bad idea. Even at twelve, you understood how perceptive Felix was. You could hide your feelings as much as you wanted, he still knew how you felt. You could hide your wounds, anything really, and he still knew. It was both impressive and annoying.

But tonight, you were sad and disappointed with yourself. Staying in your room and tending to the different cuts on your arms and hands, would only lead to you crying in your bed for being so useless.

The witches in your coven mocked you, told you how weak you were. You refused to let their words affect you but tonight, after another failure, it was hard not to think about their words. You didn’t want to be strong. You didn’t need your magic to be strong for your well-being. But you needed it in order to free Felix. You hated seeing him caged every night. You hated what they said about him. Lies.

So, you found books that could help you to strengthen your magic and practiced every night. Many nights. Hours and hours. Many times, falling asleep on the floor from exhaustion. But you were not good enough. And tonight, it had backfired. You didn’t expect the spell to hurt you, but it did. As if it sensed you were weak. As if it had sensed you had no business practicing magic.

With a long sigh you pushed the door to the basement. Almost like every time you visited, Felix was sitting on his bed, reading one of the books you had brought him. The moment you saw his face; your mood brightened a little. It was amazing, really, how easily he could sooth your heart and bring out a smile on your face.

“Hi!” You tried to sound cheerful.

Felix closed his book and smiled as he looked at you. He quirked his brow at you, a little taken aback that instead of running to him like you would usually do, you kept your distance, avoiding his eyes. He sniffed and in a blink of an eye he was out of his bed, frowning at you.

“Come here.” He ordered, his voice soft but commanding.

I knew, it would happen. You hesitated. But what could you possibly tell him without confirming him that there was indeed something wrong with you?

“Y/N.” He insisted and outstretched his hand. “Come here.”

You didn’t want to sound like an ungrateful brat by not obeying, but you had a feeling you were about to get scolded. “I-“

“Y/N. I promise not to get mad.” He knew.

Not that you had ever seen him mad. Slowly, you approached him, pouting and mumbling to yourself. You stopped in front of him but still refused to look at him.

Unfazed, Felix gently grabbed your hand and pulled it toward him. You winced and tried to pull back – he didn’t let go. Felix pushed your sleeve and exposed the cuts on your arm. “Y/N…” Felix could easily guess why you were hurt. It was either you got bullied again or you tried another spell.

With a little more strength than you intended, you tore your hand from his grip and quickly covered your arm. “It’s not that bad.” You assured him and dared to have a glance at his face. You regretted it instantly. Both pity and sadness were written all over his face. “I promise, it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“You winced when I took your hand.” He reminded you. “What happened? You know you can tell me everything.”

You knew you could. And weren’t you down here with him because you needed his reassurance? He couldn’t really help you if you were too scared to tell him the truth. You averted your eyes from his face and kicked the dirt on the floor. “I was practicing again and the spell backfired.”

Felix took a deep breath and clenched his fists behind his back. “You need to stop.”

Your eyes widened in shock at his words. “I can’t do that!” There was no way you would stop, not until he was free from this damn cage. Even if it meant you would never see him again.

“Yes, you can.” He insisted too calmly for your liking while you were both ready to burst into tears and explode in anger.

“I can’t, Felix! You’ve been trapped in this place for six years! Six years! You know how I feel about this. Do not ask me to stop when I’m the only one who can free you. You know they won’t do it. And I don’t know how long they’re planning to keep you here. What if one day they hurt you? What if they decide you to kill you?” You couldn’t hold back your tears at the thought of your family hurting him more than they already did. You couldn’t imagine a life where Felix would no longer exist.

“Y/N.” Felix said this time more softly. He grabbed your hands and squeezed gently. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me. I do. But one day the cost will be too much.”

“No.” You protested stubbornly.

“Yes, it will. And I can’t let that happen. I don’t want to see your hurt either. So please, promise me you’ll stop.” Felix pulled you in his arms, squeezing you tightly. “Promise me.”

You sobbed harder in his arms. You didn’t want to promise him. “If I don’t try, who will?”

☆☆☆☆☆

18 years old,

You stared at the two slices of cake with a smile plastered on your face. It was a beautiful day.

Not really.

The weather outside was awful. It was raining and the wind was howling so loud you couldn’t stand it for more than five minutes.

But it didn’t deter you from wanting to celebrate your big day. It could rain, it could snow but it didn’t change the fact that you were finally done with high school. You were finally done dealing with annoying people (which were half composed of witches who loved to piss you off). It was the end of a very long and tiresome chapter and the beginning of a new one. One, you promised to yourself to make it count. One, you promised would lead to happiness no matter what.

Because of that, you bought a cake and wanted to share it with Felix. And no-one else. After years of friendship, he was the only one that mattered. The only one who cared. Sometimes, late at night, when you thought about Felix, you wondered how you could have possibly survived without him. He was your friend, your moral support. He showed you that being weak wasn’t the end of the world, far from it. He showed you that you were amazing, that you were worth someone’s time. His time.

“Honey, I’m back!” You sang happily as you pushed the door to the basement.

Felix sat, crossed legs, on his bed in the middle of the circle, like always, looking concentrated on whatever he was reading. At the sound of your voice, he slowly averted his eyes from his book to you – a bright and warm smile spread on his face and you almost melted on the spot. It shouldn’t be legal to look so damn good. His smile was one that could comfort the most tormented soul.

“Look at you.” Felix coed and jumped out of bed, getting as close as he was allowed. “I can taste your happiness.”

You laughed. He was right, you were happy. Happy to be finally free. Well, almost free. At least during the day. “I brought cake for us to celebrate.”

Felix’s eyes shone brightly with delight. Unfortunately for him, your grandmother and most of witches who lived under this roof, barely fed him. They didn’t care if he starved, in fact, you were convinced it was exactly their goal.

Fortunately for him, you did your best to bring him food every night. It used to be just some leftovers – it was barely enough to feed a young man. But for his sake, you learnt to cook. You wanted to make sure he could get enough food. It was obviously a disaster at first, but Felix never complained. He was grateful for your efforts and it only encouraged you to do better. And you did.

“Here.” You gave him his slice of cake.

The two of you sat on the floor. You took the first bite of your cake and moaned in delight. Life was good. At least for now. Felix did the same and closed his eyes, savoring the taste in his mouth. How long had it been since the last time you brought him cake? Too long.

“Thank you for the cake.” Felix gently bumped his knee with yours. “Are you going to move out?”

“No.” You admitted. Of course, you wanted to leave this place and never to look back. This place held your worst memories and nightmares. But how could you leave Felix behind? You simply couldn’t. You wanted to stay and make sure that nothing worse happened to him. You wanted to make sure that your grandmother wouldn’t try to kill him. It was bound to happen, wasn’t it?

Felix stared at you as if he could read your mind. He put his plate on the floor and leaned closer. “Are you staying behind because of me? It’s your chance to start over and forget about years of suffering.”

His gaze was so intense, so sincere, you couldn’t hold it. You averted your eyes and bit on your lips. “I can’t leave you behind.”

“What if I ask you to leave?”

Your mind turned blank for a moment. Did Felix want you to leave? Did he want it for your sake or just because he had enough of you? Deep inside, you knew the answer but years of insecurities clouded your judgement. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “You can ask. Can’t promise I’ll grant you your wish.”

Felix leaned back and chuckled at your response. It was just so you.

“What about your boyfriend? Is he staying behind too?” Felix remembered.

You groaned at the mention of now your ex-boyfriend. There was something definitely wrong with you. You had been together for two years and it was two happy years, and yet, you didn’t feel sad when he broke up with you. Was it normal? You doubted.

“We’re not together anymore.” You admitted through gritted teeth.

Felix cocked a brow, amused. “I thought he was the one.”

Oh, you little shit. You shot daggers, wanting to throttle him for the teasing. Of course, he had to remember the words you dared to say long ago. The words, you said when you were sixteen; young, dumb, naïve and desperate for love.

Your body moved on its own. You pushed Felix. “Meanie.”

But it made him laugh only louder. “Am I?”

You couldn’t stop yourself – you launched yourself at Felix, tickling him to death. At least, you knew about one of his weaknesses and you had no remorse using it against him. He squealed and laughed and tried to grip your arms to stop you but you were fast and very determined to make him pay.

“Have mercy!” Felix begged through his uncontrollable giggles.

“No!” On one hand you didn’t want to stop because you loved having him at your mercy. On the other hand, you enjoyed the sound of his giggles a little too much. It was a beautiful melody and warm and contagious. You couldn’t help but laugh along.

Until Felix grabbed your hips and threw you on the ground, pinning your wrists over your head. Pinning you down with his body.

You were no longer laughing.

You froze on the spot, barely able to breath as you watched him hovering over you, smiling wickedly at you. How the table had turned. He was the one having all the power now.

“Got ya.” He said proudly.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the proximity, his warmth enveloping you in a warm hug. You couldn’t find your words, your brain refused to cooperate. Instead, you simply took this chance to observe him. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself staring at him, admiring him. From day one, you thought Felix was the most beautiful person you had ever met. With years, this thought never changed.

And especially not now.

You admired the cute freckles all over his face. His pretty lips. The cute nose. And those eyes. They shone so brightly, like stars in the middle of the night. For a moment you swore their colors changed. From deep brown, you saw a flicker of orange. In a blink it was gone.

You cleared your throat. “Can you release me now please? You won.”

Felix hummed and leaned closer; his face dangerously close to yours.

Your heart missed a beat. Then, another.

And then it started beating too fast, going crazy over the proximity. What was he doing? And why was your stupid body reacting so strongly to his weight over you, to his warm breath over your lips? What the hell, Y/N?

“Fe-Felix?” You stuttered, feeling a little dizzy, your face flushed.

Was there something in the air? Did someone cast another spell and you were unaware of it? Did someone put something in your cake? You had no reason to feel so affected with Felix’s closeness. It didn’t make sense for your body to crave suddenly more of him.

Felix’s eyes darted back and forth between your eyes and your lips. You couldn’t help but wonder what was he thinking? Did he want to kiss you? Was he simply toying with you? It was probably the latter. Right?

You begged your body to move – it didn’t. Did you want him to press himself even harder against you? Did you want him kiss you? Was it the reason your body refused to cooperate? Were you that slow to realize what was right under your nose? It couldn’t be, could it?

Before you could ponder more on the matter, Felix finally moved. He pulled back and sat beside you. He dared to wink as if he didn’t just make you question your relationship, your feelings for him.

The little shit indeed.

☆☆☆☆☆

19 years old,

Whoever said that college life was a piece of cake was a fucking liar. College was slowly driving you crazy and not in a fun way.

Yes, studying was interesting. For once, you were learning things you were actually interested in and not something imposed by your school. But the exams? God, you hated it with all your heart. Studying for exams was stressful and exhausting. You wanted to do your best. You wanted to prove to yourself that even if you were a failure of a witch, you were still good at something. Of course, it wouldn’t change the course of your life in the coven, but it still would mean the world to you.

Too bad, you were losing your mind over it. You slammed your book close and threw it to the other side of your bed. You grabbed your pillow and screamed into it. You lay on your bed for a moment, contemplating your life. Should you keep pushing yourself tonight or was it time to take a break?

“Fuck it.” You told yourself and scrambled out of your bed.

Before leaving your room, you glanced at the clock on your bedside table: 3am. It was late and you doubted Felix was still awake. But who knew? Maybe being half-demon meant he didn’t sleep that much at night? Wishful thinking Y/N.

You still went.

You sneaked inside the basement on your tiptoes, trying not to make any sound. The last thing you needed was for someone to find out your little secret. It happened once, after all, and you swore it would never happen again. For your sake and for Felix’s.

The first thing you heard when you pushed the door leading to Felix’s prison were his little moans of pain. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sound. Was there someone or something hurting him? You hurried to get inside and found nothing.

Your gaze swept the room, looking for something out of place or maybe someone hiding in the darkest corner of the room. But nothing. Nothing was out of order. Still the same candles burning all around the room. Still the same damn circle with Felix’s bed right in the middle.

Felix cried out and you run, not caring anymore if someone was hiding. You got to him in a matter of seconds and sat on his bed beside him. Felix was writhing in pain as if something was hurting him in his sleep. You put your hands on his chest and tried to wake him up.

“Felix, come on. It’s just a dream. Wake up.” You shook him few times but nothing worked. In his sleep, he grabbed the sheets and tore it apart. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him towards you so his head could rest on your laps. His whole body was warm. Too warm. Something was definitely wrong with him. You tried, despite your own exhaustion, to think about the few spells you knew and controlled. There was one you used on yourself many times when you couldn’t sleep, maybe it could sooth him and get rid of the nightmare that plagued his dreams. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. It was an easy spell; you had done it a hundred times. No pressure.

Your hands warmed up as you held his face and slowly Felix relaxed under your touch. You let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me.” Gently, you stroked his hair and enjoyed the softness.

Felix moved in his sleep. He turned around and buried his face into your laps. He wrapped his arms around your waist and sighed in both relief and delight, finding the comfort he desperately needed in you.

You, on the other hand, forgot how to breath. You didn’t move as he tightened his hold around you. It wasn’t that strong but you were now his prisoner and you realized, you didn’t mind at all. Having him so close to you, felt nice and warmed your insides.

You smiled at him and resumed stroking his hair. At least one of you would sleep tonight. “It’s so unfair.” You whispered into the darkness, confessing. “You shouldn’t be stuck here.”

You had spent years down here with him, talking, laughing, crying together. They told you he was evil and bound to do bad things. They told you his kind was unredeemable. They told you he was better locked than out there, seducing, corrupting weak minds. But you just didn’t understand their words. They didn’t know Felix like you knew him. He was the sweetest person you had ever met. He was a gentle soul and incapable of hurting someone. Unless provoked.

You closed your eyes and bit on your lips to prevent a groan of frustration. You hated them. You hated this situation. You hated your promise to him. If only you could find a way to break him free.

Felix cut short to your thoughts by pressing his lips to your skin. You gasped at the warm touch and the tingles that spread all over your body.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. You tried to shift, to put some space between your very exposed legs and his lips but even in his sleep he could sense your poor attempt. He held you a little tighter.

Another press of his lips. And then another.

For fuck’s sake! You were screaming and crying in your head, your body burning with every press of his lips. You were not supposed to like it. You were not supposed to get turned on in a situation like this. You had to get out of here. You had to run before your treacherous heart could burst out of your chest and beg for him to take it.

☆☆☆☆☆

19 years old,

Summoning a familiar seemed like the easiest thing in the world. At least, it looked like when you watched the other young witches doing it. You? Not so much. You spent few days trying, desperately, begging for someone to answer your call. Nobody did. So once again you proved to be the weakest witch in your coven.

The failure.

You hated your weakness and you hated yourself for giving so damn much about it.

That was two years ago.

But you were stubborn and even two years later you were still trying. You needed to succeed. To prove to yourself that you could do it, so maybe later you would find a way to free Felix with your magic.

“God dammit!” You screamed in frustration and threw your arms in the air. Why did it have to be so damn complicated?

Felix glanced at you from his bed, where he sat legs crossed with a book. “I have to admit that I admire your stubbornness.”

You flipped him off.

He laughed heartily. “No, I promise, I’m serious. You’ve been trying non stop for the past three nights. I would have given up ages ago.”

Yeah, you were stubborn. You blew out your candles and put your things back in your bag. There was no point trying. “Or maybe I’m just unworthy of a familiar.”

If there was one thing Felix didn’t tolerate it was when you showed him how much you hated yourself. He knew it had everything to do with this coven and how much they shamed you for being different as if it was a bad thing. He didn’t like it. He closed his book and completely disregarded it. He walked toward you, grabbed your arm and pull you back on your feet. “I’d bond with you.”

You stared at him in disbelief. How could he say something like that so easily? His words were meant to ease your doubts, to make you feel better about yourself but all it did was make your heart beat a little faster. “You can’t say shit like that.” You pulled your arm out of his grip as your cheeks turned pink.

Felix cocked a brow. “Why? I’m serious.” He took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’re amazing, you know it, right?”

You didn’t think your face could turn even redder but it did - you felt it on fire. Your heart was roaring in your ears and there was no stopping. The butterflies erupted in your stomach and no matter how hard you tried to regain control over your body, over your emotions, nothing worked. Not when Felix held your hand. Not when Felix looked so sweetly at you. Not when Felix comforted you and believed in you. Not when you found yourself craving more of him. Fuck. I’m so fucked.

“I’ll always tell you how amazing you are.”

☆☆☆☆☆

19 years old,

The sight before you was the most sinful sight ever.

And your wildest dream.

You were sweaty, writhing, moaning and panting with Felix nestled right between your thighs. His fingers digging into your skin, leaving marks that you would savor later and that would always bring back the memory of this moment.

Felix devoured you like a starved man. You were his meal and he was enjoying it with all his might. He was moaning and groaning at the taste of you on his tongue, at all the little noises that came out of your mouth. He loved how badly you needed more of him. He loved how easily you fell apart just because of his lips. And tongue. And fingers.

“Were you hoping for this, Y/N?” Felix asked as he pulled back. You were so damn close and yet, he refused to let you come. He stopped playing and watched you curse under your breath. Watched as tears of frustration gathered in the corner of your eyes.

“Felix, please.” You begged, your whole body trembling with need and despair.

But Felix only smiled wickedly at you, looking like the devil he was supposed to be. He moved up your body, trailing kisses as he went. You grabbed his hair and pulled as hard as you could as if to punish him for daring to stop.

“So needy.” He cooed and crushed his lips against yours. “So impatient.” His fingers toyed with your pussy. Feather-light touches that barely gave you what you needed and drove you very slowly crazy.

And then came a slap. Your hips jerked and you arched your back, moaning loudly. “Please.”

Felix bit on your lower lip, pulling it with his teeth. “Then say it.” You didn’t think his voice could get any deeper, rougher but it did.

Your whole body shuddered at his command, at his voice. You had no other choice left. You had to confess if you wanted a release. “Fine!” You screamed when came another slap and you couldn’t take it any longer. “Yes. Every time I visited you, I hoped you would lose your temper.” You sobbed in despair, your body begging for him to give you a release. “I wanted you so badly to snap and show me what you could do to me. I wanted you to make me yours.”

And even in your delirious state, you told him the truth. It happened slowly. So damn slowly. But you wanted him. You wanted him to kiss you. To hold you in his arms. To ravish you. To love you. Not that you believed you deserved it, but you still hoped for it.

Felix’s lips were once more on yours. Sweet. Gentle. Loving. “Good girl.” He plunged two fingers inside you, stretching you, stroking. In and out. You took everything he gave you like the good girl you were. And he watched you. Watched as you called for him, like a mantra. Watched as you moved your hips, taking his fingers deeper, completely lost in your own pleasure.

You were just so close.

And yet.

You opened your eyes and sat straight in your bed.

Sweaty.

Drenched.

And completely out of breath. Your heart beat fast in your chest. You gasped, blinking fast as realization dawned on you. Holy shit. You knew your relationship with Felix was changing. Or maybe you were the only one who changed, but you couldn’t believe it would lead you to a damn sex dream.

You climbed off the bed and went straight to your bathroom. You needed a shower. And a rather cold one to calm down. Your body was aching and on fire. You let the cold water fall down on you. With closed eyes you tried to calm your breathing. But your damn brain refused to let go. The image of Felix nestled between your legs plagued your mind.

“Stop it.” You begged your brain. You couldn’t think about him. You couldn’t think about this damn dream. Not now. Not ever. If you wanted to keep things normal between the two of you.

But your body and your mind craved Felix in a way you weren’t ready for.

You pressed your head against the wall and took a deep breath. You needed a release whether you wanted to admit it or not. Obviously, you couldn’t go and ask Felix to help you out. That would be crazy.

Resigned, your hand slid down from your neck to your breast to your stomach before slipping your fingers through your folds. You were so damn on edge because of the dream. You tried not to think too much about Felix as you curled your fingers inside you. And failed miserably. All you could see was him. All you could see was his pretty mouth working on you, teasing you.

“Fuck.” You moaned as you added your other hand and rubbed your clit. Fast. You needed to come.

‘Good girl.’ The memory of Felix’s praise and deep voice was all it took to push you over the edge.

Twenty minutes later you found yourself going downstairs, still unsatisfied and thirsty as hell. Fortunately for you, it was the middle of the night and nobody was around to witness your miserable state. Nobody could see that something was wrong with you.

And yet, instead of founding yourself in the kitchen, you found yourself in the only place you shouldn’t be.

In Felix’s prison.

Should you also mention the fact that he was wide awake and staring at you with dark, dangerous eyes as if he had sensed you. As if he could smell your arousal. As if he could tell what you did minutes ago. As if he knew you had no business being here this late and in this state.

Because sadly for you, you were still burning with need.

You gulped nervously. The wise thing to do would be turn around and leave before you could say or do something incredibly stupid. But your body refused to obey. You found yourself staring back at him, barely breathing, barely functioning.

Felix’s eyes roamed over your body, staring a little longer than necessary at your exposed legs. Staring a little too intensely for your liking at your oversized shirt that barely covered your ass. Could he sense that you wore absolutely nothing under your shirt? Judging by the sharp inhale, he did.

You felt naked and exposed and fucking turned on.

“Go back to sleep, Y/N.” Felix’s voice was dark and commanding.

But did it calm you? Hell no. Heat pooled between your thighs at the sultry darkness in his voice.

Turn back Y/N. Turn back. You didn’t. Instead, slowly, you walked toward him, your eyes locked with Felix’s. You were playing a dangerous game. But did you care? A little maybe. But not enough to stop.

“I can’t sleep.” You told him. You stopped right by the circle, waiting for a sign from him to come inside. To get closer. To risk it all.

But Felix only clenched his fists and stared back at you with a frown. “Stop.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he raised his hand to stop you.

“Go back to sleep, Y/N. I can’t give you what you want.”

His refusal stung but at least it had the very much needed effect on you. It woke you up from this odd state. You slapped yourself mentally. What the hell were you thinking? Did you really think you could be with him? Did you really think that Felix would touch you while being locked by your family?

How silly of you.

You cleared your throat and laughed nervously. “Sorry. You’re right.” And you took a step back, putting some space between the two of you. Slowly clearing your mind.

You felt stupid. And delusional. And a little heartbroken, but you shoved these feelings in a corner and put on a smile. “Goodnight, Felix.”

You turned around and didn’t look back, too scared to see pity on his face. Too scared to show him how you felt. You walked fast as if the devil was after you. And maybe it wasn’t far from the truth. You didn’t stop.

Not even when you heard him call your name.

☆☆☆☆☆

You missed Felix.

Like crazy.

And slowly it was driving you crazy.

The longing. And you had only yourself to blame for this.

After that night and the rejection, you were too embarrassed to show your face. You were a coward, you knew it, but it was easier this way. Until it wasn’t. You could pretend it never happened; it would be the right thing to do. But you couldn’t. Not when your mind still played tricks on you and made you remember the dream so vividly. Not when your heart squeezed painfully in your chest every time you thought about Felix.

How were you supposed to face him again without thinking about that night? How were you supposed to face him and ignore how your whole body craved his presence, his touches? How were you supposed to ignore the pull?

But staying away was also hurting you. And before being something else, Felix was your friend and you were his only friend in this place. You couldn’t hide forever without hurting him too.

Be brave. You told yourself as you stopped right behind the door to his cage. You had no reason to be scared. It was Felix, your favorite person on earth. You could make it right.

“I know you’re there.” Felix’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

Of course, he could sense you. When couldn’t he? You sighed and pushed the door, feeling ridiculous for even hesitating.

But all your pep talks and bravery vanished the moment you saw him standing and waiting for you. Nobody should be allowed to look this good. This effortlessly beautiful. You wanted to scream at the unfairness.

“Are you finally scared of me?” Felix asked, reminding you of the very first night you met. He had asked you the same question.

Your answer never changed. Not then, not now. You scoffed at his ridiculous question. “You wish.”

Feeling a little better, you walked more confidently towards him.

“Then why did you stop visiting?”

You stopped and quirked your brow at him. The answer was obvious but apparently, he didn’t get it. “Because I’m embarrassed.”

Felix considered your words, and then, slowly outstretched his hand towards you. Your body reacted on its own accord. You took his hand and let him pull you closer to him.

Felix was so warm, you sighed in delight. Always so gentle, so sweet, so comforting. You didn’t deserve someone like him. But you still wished you could have him.

“Don’t be.”

“I’m sorry for last time.”

Felix shook his head. His free hand moved to your face, gently stroking your cheek before moving to your lips. You watched him completely mesmerized as his thumb rubbed your lower lip. “Don’t even think for a second that I wasn’t tempted that night.”

You gasped both in surprise at his words and at how easily he slipped his thumb into your mouth. Your body was instantly on fire, responding to his gesture, longing for more. You were hot everywhere and getting wetter with every passing second.

And he sensed it. Just like that night. His eyes grew darker. “You’re making it hard for me.” He forced himself to pull away from you before he could do something incredibly stupid. You wanted to grab him and pull him back. You were ready to beg him.

“This thing between us,” He pointed at him and then at you, “Is getting dangerous. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You opened your mouth to protest. He would never hurt you, you knew that. But he didn’t let you speak your mind as he continued. “And I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

☆☆☆☆☆

You had a bad feeling.

A bad feeling that only intensified when you overheard aunt Lauren talking with another witch (whose name was long forgotten) about Felix and how it was unacceptable that he was still in the basement. That it was unacceptable that he was still alive. You hated when they dared speak his name. They had no right. In fact, the idea of ripping their tongue out was very tempting if not for the consequences.

You hid in the darkness and waited for them to leave. The need to see Felix grew stronger with every passing minutes. What if they had hurt him while you were studying? What if they had hurt him with their words? Felix had told you many times that he didn’t care about their words, about their opinions but was it still true? It had been thirteen damn years. Who could resist for so long? Who could keep their sanity?

Please, don’t be hurt.

☆☆☆☆☆

Felix was hurt. You gripped the doorknob so strong it dug into your skin. You wanted to push the door and run to him. You wanted to comfort him and tell him he wasn’t alone, that you would help. One way or another.

But you couldn’t do that. Not when your grandmother was standing proudly before him while he was on his knees, bleeding from different wounds.

Your heart squeezed in your chest to the point you could barely breath. Felix was in pain because of your family. Because you promised him to stop trying to free him with your magic. Because you were weak. You were hurt and disappointed and you couldn’t stop the anger rising in you like a tide.

Your grandmother, despite her age, still looked young and strong (there were some perks at being a witch). Most of people who had met her were terrified of her. She inspired respect and fear. Nobody could disobey her without risking being kicked out or worse. Killed. Her rules were law.

But Felix? Felix wasn’t intimidated. He wasn’t scared. He didn’t cower before her. He spat blood at her feet and laughed right to her face. It was a stupid and a very reckless thing to do but you also admired him for it.

“Such a filthy little thing you are.” She disapproved. She snapped her fingers and electricity shot from everywhere right at him, striking him.

Felix groaned in pain and closed his eyes. To endure. He would not give in. He hadn’t done it for the past thirteen years; he would not surrender tonight.

Felix.

Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes but you refused to cry. You couldn’t cry when he was suffering and resisting. You had to stay strong. For him.

He coughed blood but straightened his back as he glared at her. It amazed you how he managed to compose himself and look devilish. Felix had an angelic face but the darkness in his eyes and the smirk let you have a glimpse of what he was.

“Every year, you come and ask me the same thing.” Felix reminded her, looking strong and confident despite his wounds and the blood pooling at his feet. “My answer remains the same. You want to break me? You’re doing a poor job. Or should I say your little help are doing a poor job.”

You bit on your lips to the point you drew blood to stop yourself from screaming. You had always known there was a reason you found small cuts from time to time on Felix. Every time you asked, he refused to tell you the story but now you knew and it infuriated you. How dared they?

“You know that my brothers are looking for me. And they will come for me. Maybe not today or tomorrow but they will. And when they do? They will show you no mercy. Not to you and not to your coven.”

Felix’s threat didn’t work on her (it certainly did on you as you shivered at the coldness in his voice).

She laughed. A cold and ominous laugh. “They had thirteen years to find you. Do you think I didn’t take precautions? Your mother should have done the same if she wanted to hide you so badly from us.”

At the mention of his mother, Felix’s whole demeanor changed. One moment he was sitting, the next he was right back on his feet, snarling, trying to reach your grandmother. But every time he tried to hit the invisible barrier; he got pushed back.

“Shut your mouth!” He warned her.

“You know,” Your grandmother started as she put some space between him and her. “She begged me to spare you. Not to take you. Till her last breath. She was such a promising witch and she ruined all of it. And for what? A demon who forgot all about her the moment she got pregnant? For a love that was never here to begin with? Ridiculous.”

Please tell me she didn’t kill her. You couldn’t believe your grandmother, the once loving woman, would go to this extent. And for what? Greed? Power?

“It was-was you.” Felix took a step back as realization dawned on him. He was shaking uncontrollably, in disbelief. “You killed her.”

She snickered in response. “She knew it would happen and she still chose this path.”

Felix closed his eyes for a moment. Maybe he was thinking about his mom. Maybe he was trying to calm down. Maybe he was making a plan. You couldn’t tell. But you, sure as hell, knew, there was no going back. They said he was evil – you disagreed.

This coven was evil.

Your family was evil. Not the other way around.

“You will pay for it.” Felix tried one last time to reach for her, probably hoping to wrap his hands around her throat and strangle her to death. It didn’t work. He was pushed back, falling miserably on the floor while your grandmother laughed.

“We’ll see.” And vanished.

You stayed in the darkness for a moment. Your heart going crazy in your chest. Your thoughts running wild. You wanted to go to him, to embrace him and comfort him. But after what happened, could you really look him in the eyes? Did he want to see you? You were terrified.

Felix coughed and hit the floor over and over, not caring that his skin broke. Not caring that he was adding injuries. Rage pulsed through his veins and nothing could stop him. Nothing could calm him down.

There was so much pain and rage written all over his face – you should go back to the safety of your room and hide. You didn’t. Instead, you ran to him as if your own life depended on it. You fell on your knees beside him and grabbed his hands before it could hit the floor.

“Stop it.” You begged him, trying not to wince at all the blood around you, at the blood on your hands and on your knees.

Wrong thing to say. In a blink of an eye, Felix pushed you – you found yourself pinned to floor, his body crushing you, his hands wrapped tightly around your throat. If you were a normal person, this act of violence should have terrified you. He was completely lost in his rage, unable to hear, to see. But you weren’t scared. All you could feel was deep sorrow for his loss, for his life.

“Felix.” You called him, hoping to bring him back. He squeezed your throat a little tighter.

“Felix.” You tried again.

But still no sign of him. Instead, his grip only tightened.

Would he kill you? It was a sad way to go, and yet, you still weren’t scared. But worried. Worried he would wake up later and blame himself for what he did. Worried your grandmother finally managed to break him. You refused this outcome.

“Felix.” You touched his cheek, stroking gently and wiping some blood. “Come back to me, please?”

For a second, you thought you were done for, but then, slowly, he unwrapped his fingers from your neck. “Y/N?” He stared at you, blinking rapidly as if he was seeing you for the first time. Realizing what he had almost done, he gasped and pulled back, falling right on his butt.

“I’m sorry.” As he said those words, tears rolled down his cheek. “I-“

You coughed and rubbed your throat. “Don’t.” You kneeled beside him and took his hands. “I’m so sorry, Felix. I knew things were bad but clearly, I underestimated my family’s crime.”

“Y/N.”

You shook your head. “I know I promised you to never try again those spells. But Felix, I can’t watch my family hurt you. I can’t do it anymore.”

You expected Felix to protest like he used to, but instead he just stared at you through his tears. You squeezed his hands, wanting him to know that you were on his side and would do anything to help him. Especially now that you knew the extent of the crimes.

“Aren’t you scared?” He finally asked. “If you free me, there will be no stopping me, Y/N. I will burn this place down.”

How many times had he asked you if you were scared? Your answer never changed. Not even tonight.

You smiled and leaned closer. “Good. I’ll give you the matches.”

☆☆☆☆☆

Lunch break was the only time of the day when you could read the spell book without risking another witch from your coven to see what you were trying to do. They didn’t like you and you didn’t want to give them a reason to think that you were up to something. Not like they could possibly imagine that you were trying to help a demon. Their arrogance would be their doom.

You chewed on your piece of bread as you observed the different magic circles, trying to find the one your grandmother used to trap Felix. You had read so many books through the years and yet, you just couldn’t find the right one. Was she powerful enough to create a trap of her own? That would explain a lot.

You stopped chewing and slowly averted your gaze from the book. All your senses were on alert. Something was getting closer to you. Something dark and dangerous and terribly familiar. You sighed in relief, recognizing the scent, and relaxed.

“Huh. Trying to trap a demon, Y/N?” Jisung’s familiar voice echoed right from behind you. He hovered over you until he completely rested his chin on top of your head, peeking at your book. Typical of him. You slammed the book close and nudged him in the ribs. “Ouch.”

“You deserved it.” You poked him this time, for good measure.

“You’re a menace!” He declared and dodged another attack. “Have mercy on my poor soul.”

You laughed heartily at his poor attempt at playing the victim. Despite his boyish look, his loud laugh and easy-going personality, you still saw the beast under his skin. Jisung was not an innocent man. He could fool most of people around him. But not you.

Jisung sat on the opposite side of you, crossed his legs and smirked knowingly. “You know, if you want some kinky time with a demon, there’s better a way than a trap?”

You cocked a brow at him. You never confronted him about his identity or why he approached you the first time but maybe it was about time you had this conversation. “Why? Are you suggesting I have some fun with you, Ji?”

“Sure. Why not? But I’m not sure you can handle me.” He laughed and clapped his hands.

“So confident.” You tsked but smiled nevertheless. “Are all demons like you?”

For a moment you thought about Felix. He was confident but not on Jisung’s level. Or at least, not with you.

“Yeah. I mean, if there’s one thing, we’re exceptionally good, it’s definitely sex.” Jisung bragged proudly.

The image of Felix nestled between your legs flashed in your mind and you cursed under your breath. Why did your brain choose this moment to think about this stupid dream? And why were you now imagining how good the real thing would be with him? You squeezed your thighs under the table and hoped Jisung was too lost in this conversation to smell your arousal.

Jisung opened his mouth and closed immediately. His eyes widened in shock as finally his brain registered your words. “Wait a second.” He leaned closer. “You.” He pointed an accusing finger at you. “You knew?! When? How?”

For someone supposedly evil, Jisung’s confused face looked too adorable. The urge to squish his cheeks was strong, you had to hold back.

“From day one.” You admitted.

“No way.” Jisung slumped in his chair, having a mental breakdown. “But you’re a witch. And we’re friends, right?”

“So?”

“In case you forgot, witches and demons don’t mix well.”

“I’m well aware and if you want my opinion, it’s stupid.” You took Jisung’s hands – he winced at the touch. For the first time, he actually feared your touch. It stung but you couldn’t completely blame him. “Why should I hate you when you’ve been good to me?”

Your words had the effect of a slap. Jisung’s face blanched and he slowly pulled away from your touch. It was odd to see him so calm and wary and distant.

“I wasn’t good to you.” He disapproved. “I didn’t approach you with good intentions.”

“Maybe. But you saved me when those angry spirits tried to have a taste of me.”

“You knew it was me?”

“Demons aren’t the only one good with scents you know?”

“What do I smell like?”

“Cheesecake.”

“Now you’re fucking with me.”

“Am not.”

Jisung had a hard time to believe that a witch, and despite knowing you for a while now, could accept a demon like him so easily. But no matter how hard it was for him to believe, there was no lie in your eyes, in your voice. You smiled genuinely at him and were waiting for him to make a move and to admit that the two of you were actually real friends.

“Well shit.” He leaned back in his seat, a lazy smile spreading on his face. “I’m friends with a witch.”

☆☆☆☆☆

Talking with Jisung made you realize one thing. If you couldn’t find help in books, there was still one thing you could do: ask another demon for help. Hopefully demons could find other demons. Like Felix’s brothers. Maybe you should have asked Jisung, he was the safest option. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to let him get involved in this mess.

You couldn’t go back home to do the summoning. It was too risky. Luckily for you, years ago, you had found a tiny, wooden cabin in the middle of the foods. It was covered in moss and spider webs, but you didn’t care. It was a perfect escape to practice. And it was the perfect, isolated place to summon a demon.

Candles, blood, a perfectly drawn circle; you were ready for the summoning. You refused to let your insecurities win. It will work. You could not fail tonight.

You willed your heart to calm down. You willed your body to relax and your mind to stay focused on one thing only: summon a demon.

You closed your eyes and recited the spell. You felt your magic stirring slowly inside you, trying to reach out to something. You had no idea if it was working, but you kept going, letting your magic out, letting the spell work its magic.

At first, nothing happened. You opened your eyes and found the room hadn’t changed. You stood alone, candles being your only source of lights. But then, the light flicked and the temperature in the room dropped drastically. You looked all around you, trying to find anyone hiding and at first you saw nothing. But then, a shadow moved in the corner of the room.

“A bloody witch dares to summon me.” A man’s voice echoed in the room. Cold, ominous and filled with hatred.

Instead of feeling offended with his obvious displeasure and insult, you were delighted. You had done it. You summoned a demon. For once, it worked just like you intended.

“I need your help.” You hurried to say before he decided you were wasting his time and would leave. Because, you could deal with him hating you. You could deal with him trying to attack you. But you could not deal with him leaving before you could ask for his help.

The shadow stilled at your words. “Can’t be good.”

You could see it more clearly now. It didn’t have a man’s shape, but the shadow was taller than you, bigger, and you could feel him watching you. You took a step towards him.

“Aren’t you scared, witch?”

Oh scared you were, alright. But you could deal with your fear later. “I’m desperate.”

You moved as close as you could to him, hoping he could tell you weren’t here to try to trap him. In fact, it seemed the circle you drew couldn’t hold him at all since he stood out of it. You ignored this tiny detail, and stopped only when you were close enough. The cold, it was coming from his shadows, you realized.

“I don’t have bad intentions. I swear.” But as you said those words, your confidence wavered a little. How were you supposed to convince him when the hatred was so strong?

He scoffed at your words. You opened your mouth to try to explain yourself but found yourself unable. A hand made of shadow wrapped around your throat, his grip strong, it would bruise later.

“I don’t care.” He said and his grip on you tightened. He watched with what felt like glee as you gasped for air. You tried to fight him back but he wouldn’t budge. No, it only amused him to see you struggle.

“I will never work with a witch.” And he released you.

You stumbled and coughed; your hand pressed to your throat. It hurt but you swallowed your pain and raised your head to look at the shadows. “Please.” You tried to reach him, desperately.

Wrong move.

He didn’t hesitate as he struck. And struck hard. You cried out in pain, realizing too late what he had done. A cut right across your stomach. Not enough to be deadly, but enough to draw blood and make it hurt.

“Consider yourself lucky. I should kill you, but not tonight.”

With that, he left you alone.

How sad was it? Your summoning was a success. And yet, you still had failed.

☆☆☆☆☆

Your wound, despite not being deep, hurt like a bitch. You needed to get back to your room and use your magical compress to heal yourself, but your grandmother’s voice stopped you in your tracks. You tried to make yourself as small as you could, willing the darkness to swallow you whole.

“I know, you’re not done with him. But two witches had disappeared so far. And two of them were spotted in town. If you don’t want to get rid of him now, then, we should move him.” A witch told your grandmother and by the sound of her voice, she was obviously nervous. Yet, you had to applaud her bravery for talking so boldly to your grandmother. Not many did and only few survived her wrath.

Your grandmother clicked her tongue in annoyance but didn’t comment.

“What if they’re the reasons those two witches disappeared? What if they make them talk?” She kept pressing the matter.

You held your breath, expecting your grandmother to blow up at any seconds.

But she didn’t. She sighed. “Two days. We’ll move him in two days.”

Shit.

You weren’t planning to visit Felix tonight. There was no way he could ignore your wound which meant you were in big trouble. But you also couldn’t not go. Not when you overheard the conversation. He needed to be prepared and the two of you had to find a solution. And quickly.

“I need to talk to you.” You said as soon as you got inside.

Felix froze as the scent of your blood hit his nose. He growled and before you could stop him, he was already in your personal space, moving you as if you were a ragdoll, checking for injuries.

“Stop it. We don’t have time.” You tried to stop him by grabbing his hands but he didn’t listen. He didn’t stop.

He removed your jacket and his growl sounded even more animalistic than before at the sight of your bloodied shirt. He hiked your shirt, and any other time, you would have blushed and probably ask for more. But not tonight.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice so quiet, so lethal. There was a storm brewing and you weren’t sure how to deal with it.

“Felix, we don’t have time. There are more pressing matters on our hands.” You insisted and pulled on your shirt, wanting to cover your wound and avoid his angry and desperate gaze.

Not that your behavior was helping your case or soothing his anger. In fact, it had the opposite effect. “I don’t give a damn, Y/N. Who did this to you?”

Oh, he was pissed. Pissed as hell and ready to fight you if needed. But so were you. Annoyed, you pushed him with all your strength. He stumbled back but quickly recovered.

“Y/N.” He warned you.

“Felix.” You said stubbornly.

Felix closed his eyes, trying to keep his temper in check, but with you being unreasonable, it was getting harder. He had never raised his voice in your presence. He had never threatened you. But tonight, it was getting tempting.

He grabbed your chin and leaned closer. “Who.Did.It?”

“A demon!” You yelled. “Happy? Now can we move on?”

“Like hell! Why would a demon attack you?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. There was no point fighting. Turned out, Felix could be unreasonable (according to you) and just as stubborn as you. “Because I summoned one.” His face blanched at your admission and you could feel, Felix was about to explode and it would get ugly. “I was desperate, ok? I wanted to ask for help to find your brothers.”

His eyes widened in surprise at your confession. You didn’t know what he expected, but clearly not you looking for his brothers.

“You’re looking for my brothers?” He asked dumbfounded.

You sighed, resigned. “Yes. You know I’m a shitty witch. There’s nothing I can do to free you, but they can, can’t they?”

Felix hesitated but nodded his head. He gulped, having a hard time to find his voice. “But Y/N, if they see you, they can hurt you before you even have time to ask for their help. I don’t want that.”

His words were both a balm to your heart and frustrating. How could he think about your safety after all those years? How could he think about you when, although it was a dangerous path, it was probably your best shot at his freedom?

You reached for his cheek and gently stroked it. “Have some faith in me. They’re our only shot. And I need to find them now. My grandmother ordered to move you in two days. We can’t wait any longer.”

Felix pressed his face into your hand, savoring your touch and your warmth. And then, he pressed his soft lips to your hand. “Without a doubt, you are the most reckless and bravest witch I have ever met.”

You smiled sheepishly at him. “Because you know so many witches.”

He chuckled. “At least four.” You whistled, impressed. “But none of them can compare to you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the way Felix looked at you. So much fondness and adoration in his eyes – you could melt right on the spot. You tried to pull away your hand from his face, just to put some space, to spare your heart but Felix had other plans. He grabbed your wrist before you could do anything and crushed your body against his.

“You, Y/N,” He whispered against your lips, “are both my doom and salvation.” And with that he captured your lips.

Your body instantly reacted to his kiss. With just a press of his lips, he set your whole body on fire. How long had you dreamt about this moment? How many times had you imagined him kissing you? Too many times, and yet, nothing could compare to the reality. And it was all it took to unravel you.

All thoughts vanished and nothing mattered anymore except him. Your demon. Your prince charming. Your friend. Your lover.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss. At first, it was soft and sweet. Not anymore. Months of pent-up frustration and you could finally let go.

Felix chuckled against your lips; your eagerness both amusing and much appreciated.

“I’ve been dreaming about this moment ever since you came to me, all wet, ready to beg me to take you.” He groaned against your lips. Slowly, he fisted your hair and when you were too gone, he pulled hard. “You have no idea how hard it was to resist you, love. The demon in me wanted me to claim you.” His lips traveled from your mouth to your jaw. “To make you scream my name.” To your neck, leaving marks on his way, making sure that you knew who you belonged to.

The ache between your thighs intensified at his words and a tiny moan slipped past your lips. “You should have listened to your inner demon.”

Felix chuckled against your skin. “I’m listening to him now.”

He certainly did.

Felix hiked your legs around his waist, making you squeal in the process. He carried you to his bed and threw you not so gently anymore on top of it. He watched you with a predatory gaze as you bounced, your hair spread all around you, a mess, completely at his mercy.

“All mine.” He said with such conviction and possessiveness, it took you off guard. He didn’t strike you as a possessive man, not when he looked like an angel, but maybe it was his inner demon speaking after all, wanting you to know that there was no more escape.

Before you could even mutter a ‘I’m all yours’, Felix had claimed your mouth once more. Possessive, demanding, fierce - he swallowed your tiny gasp of surprise. There he was, the little devil hiding behind his gentle face, behind his every smile. And you loved every second of it.

His lips, his hands, they were everywhere at once. Kissing, marking, touching. But it still wasn’t enough. You needed the clothes off. You needed to feel skin against skin, to feel his warmth, everything. You gently pushed him off you only to quickly disregard all your clothes, leaving you completely exposed. At his mercy.

But the moment his eyes landed on the wound on your stomach, he froze for a moment. He stared at the wound with such intensity, you almost wished you could hide from his gaze. So many emotions flickered through his eyes; anger, a quiet promise of death to the one who dared to hurt you, despair and love.

“I promise, it’s not that bad.” You assured him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes to look at you, a groan escaped him at the sight of you, your arms spread open, inviting him to take what was rightfully his. This made him snap. He was on top of you, planting kissed all over your body, leaving no skin untouched.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered against your skin.

Your entire body thrummed with need. You wanted him so badly, it hurt. He knew it, he could tell it and yet, he took all his sweet time, as if he wanted memorize every part of you. Every mark, every mole, every tiny scars. Everything about you were precious and he made sure you knew it.

Felix slid down your body, slowly, trailing kisses as he went, stopping only when he came face to face with your embarrassingly wet pussy. You were drenched and all he did was to kiss you. You could only imagine how ruined you would be by the end of it.

Felix hummed in satisfaction as he stole one taste from your folds. “Fuck. I knew you’d be the death of me.”

“Felix.” You begged, pushing your hips closer to him.

He glanced at you, and you squirmed at the glint full of mischief in his eyes. You were in trouble.

“Tell me what you want, love.” And he nudged your clit with his nose, making you whine in both need and despair.

“I want you. All of you.” You confessed. It wasn’t exactly the answer he was waiting for, but you still wanted him to know.

Felix’s eyes softened at your words and he planted a soft kiss on your thigh. “I’m all yours.”

He buried his face between your legs, feasting like a starved man. There was no stopping him now and he promised to himself to enjoy every second of it. And he did. He alternated between gentle licks and long, hard pulls on your clit, savoring your taste, savoring the little moans that spilled out of your mouth.

“Felix.” You moaned over and over, completely lost to the feeling of his mouth, of his tongue. You writhed and bucked, wanting more.

And Felix, despite being a tease, gave you everything. He slid a finger inside you as he sucked your clit, and then another. In and out. Faster. Deeper. Bringing you so close to your sweet release.

“Come for me, love.” His deep voice was all you needed as you obeyed him. Your orgasm crashed into you and Felix still kept going, letting you ride out your orgasm. “So beautiful.”

The sight of him between your legs, mouth drenched with your release, almost made you come again.

He pulled away, his eyes on you, he let you watch as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them, slowly, playfully.

You whimpered at the sight. He had no right to look both this handsome and so wicked. So sinful.

“Like what you see?” He teased.

You huffed and stuck your tongue. It was a childish display but Felix’s eyes only darkened, imagining all the things he could do with this mouth of yours.

“Careful, love.” He warned you.

You didn’t think you could get any wetter, but you certainly did. He had so much power over you, over your body and he didn’t know it. Yet. “I need you to fuck me. Right now.”

“Do you, now?”

“Felix.”

“Y/N.”

So damn annoying.

Felix chuckled. Despite him wanting to tease you, he couldn’t ignore his own needs. He couldn’t ignore his cock begging to be dealt with. He quickly took his clothes off and you watched him completely mesmerized as he exposed all of him. So damn beautiful. All of him. You stared at his cock and licked your lips, wanting to have a taste.

“You’re perfect.” You told him as you tried to reach him. But Felix gently pushed you back, settling between your legs.

“So are you.” And he kissed your lips. He hovered over you. “You’re sure about it, right?”

You kissed the tip of his nose in response. “Yes.”

Felix released a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding.

You spread your legs a little wider, giving him more space. Felix grabbed his cock and nudged your clit playfully which only made you whine in response. “Stop teasing.” But he did it again, loving your attempt at bossing him around. Just when you were about to complain, he pushed inside you – and all your retorts died on your tongue. You threw your head back, clenching the sheets as he pushed, inch by torturous inch, filling you up, stretching you slowly.

“Fuck, love, so warm, so tight.” Felix groaned as he grabbed your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. He tried desperately to control his body, his needs and not just slam into you.

“You feel so good.” You mewled and pushed your hips, wanting him deeper.

You took all of him, like the good girl you were.

He dragged his cock out slowly, making sure you could feel all of him, every inch before slamming back in.

“Fuck.” Felix growled.

Felix started slowly – it didn’t last.

You saw it, the shift in his whole demeanor. It was as if the demon inside him had finally snapped. Had finally had enough of all the holding backs. He wanted more, he wanted you to scream, to completely submit. To ruin you.

And you took it all as he set a punishing rhythm. Every thrust stronger and deeper than the previous one.

“I’m never letting you go.” He promised you as he pushed deeper.

With every thrust, he turned you into a mess. A delirious mess. All you could do was take it all and scream his name. Over and over again. And still beg for more.

Everything about Felix was just so addictive. Sweat coated your skins. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a messy kiss, digging your nails into his nape. Only to pull away when he hit that spot that made you see stars.

“You’re taking me so well, love.” He purred and hit that spot again making you cry out.

“Please, don’t stop.” You begged. “I want more.”

“As you wish.” And he gave you exactly what you were asking for. He showed you absolutely no mercy.

Fast, deep.

You split apart with a sharp cry as you came with a full body shudder.

Felix kept going, his thrusts getting a little sloppier as he was nearing his own release. He came with a growl, panting, body shaking, spilling into you.

He fell on top of you, breathing hard, as you wrapped your arms protectively around him.

You stayed in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s’ warmth, knowing that this magical moment was bound to end, one way or another. But you refused your fears to ruin this moment for you. Not when he was with you. Not when you could feal his heart beat in rhythm with yours.

“I really don’t want you to leave.” He admitted as he pressed his lips to your breast, making you squeal in surprise.

You poked his cheek playfully. “I don’t want to either. But Felix, I need to find your brothers before it’s too late.”

Felix sighed and rolled off you so he could face you better. “I don’t know where they are. I doubt they stayed at my mom’s place.” He paused to bite his lips. “Or what’s left of it.”

“What if I try to use a tracking spell?” You suggested and pointed at him. “With your help I might be able to do it.”

Felix sat on the bed and thought about it. He didn’t know much about magic despite his mother’s attempt, but maybe he could help. He looked at his wrist and at the mark. You followed his eyes and almost jumped out of the bed at the sight of it.

“What’s wrong?” He worried.

No way.

You couldn’t have been that blind. “That mark.” You pointed, speechless.

“This?” He showed you his wrist and there was no mistake. You had seen it before and not on Felix. “I share this mark with my brothers.”

You took a deep breath and counted till ten. Nope, still angry. “I’m going to kill him.”

Felix grabbed your arm before you could leave. “Who?”

“Any chance, you have a brother named Jisung?”

Felix let go of your arm in surprise.

Yeah, I’m going to kill him.

☆☆☆☆☆

The moment Jisung opened his door, you pounced on him, not letting him any chance to speak, hitting his chest for good measure. “You are a bloody idiot!” And another hit. You were both equally frustrated and excited. You had the solution to your problem for so long right under your nose and you didn’t even know it.

Before you could hit him another time, he grabbed your wrists with impressive strength, which shouldn’t surprise you so much since he was a demon, and scowled at you. “Hello to you too. What did I deserve to be called an idiot?”

"You knew from day one who I was, Ji!" You yelled at him. You tried to free your wrists from his hold just so you could hit him a few more times but Jisung saw right through your intentions. His grip tightened and you would have winced if not for your anger. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that you're Felix's brother?!"

Whatever Jisung was expecting from you, it was clearly not that. He gaped at you, eyes wide and his strength slowly failing him. He completely let go of your wrists and took a good step back. "What-How" he stammered.

Yeah, he definitely deserved another punch from you. Except you were no longer alone and you realized it too late.

"You have Felix's scent all over you." A man was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, he watched you, eyes dark and judging. Assessing you.

Everything inside you screamed at you to run away before it was too late. Something about him just set all your alarms on alert but you didn't budge. You refused to cower.

Jisung, on the other hand, immediately moved and stood before you, shielding you from the danger that this man posed.

"Ji..." You whispered, taken aback by his sudden protectiveness.

His friend only arched a brow. "I'm not going to hurt her." He promised and something in his voice convinced you that despite his aura, he wasn't trying to deceive you. "You on the other hand, I'm not so sure. You were supposed to use her to get information about Felix, remember that?"

That made you pause and remember Jisung's words about his intentions not being completely good when he first approached you. Now, it made sense and you wished he was straightforward with you. You would have helped them without a second thought if it meant you could save Felix.

You gently pushed Jisung out of your way to face his friend. "Does it matter? I'm here now and we need to talk."

None of them spoke for a moment. Jisung still tensed by your side. His friend, however, after a moment, walked towards you. If he thought he could intimidate you with his gaze, he was wrong. You were ready to do anything for Felix's sake. Even risk your life. And he saw that too in your eyes. He extended his hand for you to shake. "I'm Chris. I guess we have a lot to talk about."

With that, you didn't hesitate. You shook his hand.

You followed them inside Jisung's flat, only to find more men all around the place. All demons, eyes flashing different colors at your presence, no doubt sensing that you were a witch. And no doubt smelling Felix on you. Another time, you would have blushed at the idea of them knowing that something had happened between the two of you. Not tonight. Tonight, you thought, it only proved them that you were not here to trick them.

Jisung cleared his throat, still standing close to you, scared that one of them would not listen and try to hurt you. Your heart swelled with fondness at the thought. Whoever said that demons and witches couldn't be friends, was clearly a dumbass.

"This is Y/N." He introduced you.

You watched them in return, your heartbeat steady, your body, for once, obeyed and didn't shake under their judging gazes. It was a little unnerving but not enough to make you fear for your life.

One of them, however, looked at you with much more hatred than others. Or was it just anger? Or something else? You wondered.

"Nice wound." He commented.

This voice.

You gasped. You knew that voice. And your wound certainly remembered him too. "Hello, asshole." Maybe provoking one of them wasn't your finest moment but your wound still hurt and he was being a jerk without good reason too.

Jisung snapped his head towards you. "You've met Minho?"

You ignored his question and instead stared intensely at Minho.

"I'm curious." Minho started, unimpressed with your behavior. "Why summoning a demon?"

You scoffed at his question. "So now you want to know?"

He shrugged as if it was nothing, only annoying you more with his attitude. "Wonder if you tried to trap me."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You weren't a violent person most of the time, but this demon was clearly testing your patience.

"Wait. You summoned Minho?" Jisung asked completely dumbfounded with this new piece of information.

"I'm surprised she's still breathing." Another one commented.

They were making things unnecessarily complicated. "Felix says hi." You said instead. The moment you spoke, most of them growled, not liking your tone.

You weren't trying to be difficult but your temper was getting hard to keep in check. Especially when you were running out of time.

Jisung pushed you once more behind him. "Don't push them."

Minho growled louder this time and you wondered for a moment if this time he would snap. Could Jisung control him?

"Minho. That's enough." Chris's voice was commanding with a hint of a threat. "She smells like him. Whether you like it or not, you can't hurt her."

You were thankful for his intervention. At least another person in this room didn't want to kill you. Not yet at least. "I was looking for you." You admitted in hope it would stop them from wanting to tear you apart.

So you tell them everything. How you met. How you became friends. Your promise to Felix. How you tried and failed to master your magic to help him. How the coven planned to move him and probably get rid of him for good. And how last night you realized Jisung was Felix's brother.

"I should have asked Felix how to find you from the beginning." You admitted. You had heard many times the mention of his brothers and yet you never thought about asking him. That was probably your biggest mistake and you loathed yourself for it.

Chris, apparently, sensed your distress. He placed his hand on your shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "As much as I hate your coven, you were just a kid, Y/N, who knew nothing about the outside world. You can't blame yourself."

You shook your head. "I was a kid then, yes. But what about now? I was trying so badly to find what kind of spell my grandmother used to trap him, it never occurred to me that you, guys, were the solution. And that's on me."

Chris opened his mouth to disagree but another of the demons spoke first. "Is he trapped in a magical circle?"

You turned your face to look at another too damn beautiful man, you thought. It was a little annoying to see that all of them were so painfully beautiful. You quickly locked those thoughts and nodded your head to answer his question. "I've read so many books but never found the spell."

He nodded and took a piece of paper and a pen. "Can you draw it for me?"

You stared at the paper and then at him. Was it possible that demons knew something about witches' magic?

"Hyunjin is an expert in witchcraft." Chris explained. "We've spent quite a few years with Felix's mom. She showed us some of her magic."

Oh.

You didn't hesitate and grabbed the paper and started drawing. It wasn't a hard thing to do considering how many years you had spent trying to find answers.

Once done, you gave the paper back to Hyunjin. He stared at it intensely and then he nodded his head.

No way.

"Your grandmother is a clever witch." Hyunjin said.

Minho groaned at his words.

"Don't growl at me." Hyunjin pointed an accusing finger at him. "I hate the witch as much as you do but this," he pointed back at the drawing, "is clever. To undo her magic you need blood from both a demon and a witch and willingly given. Who in their right mind would do it?"

You blinked. And blinked. It couldn't be that simple, could it?

"I would." You said without hesitation.

Hyunjin averted his eyes from Minho to look at you. A small smile spread on his beautiful face. "She couldn't have foreseen that. No demon would give his blood willingly and no witch would do that either. Especially in your coven. Obviously, except for you. And I bet Felix wouldn't hesitate either."

And he was so right. The hatred for demons ran deep in your coven. Your grandmother made sure of that, so of course, no witches would ever try to free Felix. Except you.

"I have to go back." You told them.

"I'll go with you." Jisung hurried to say.

You smacked his arm. "Don't be ridiculous. They will capture you. It should be me. I'm used to sneak around."

Jisung opened his mouth to protest but you put your hand on his mouth to stop him. You gave him your best, reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I promise."

Chris was the one to escort you outside. You didn't know why he felt like you needed it but you didn't complain.

"Do it quickly." Chris said as he stopped. "Make sure to leave before tomorrow night. We will attack and I can't guarantee your safety."

It felt surreal. After so long, you were finally so close to your goal. It was both exciting and terrifying. What would you do once it was over?

"How come his powers never manifested?" You asked.

It was your grandmother's obsession. She wanted his power because of his lineage. Half demon, half witch. So special, so powerful. And yet, no matter how much she tried to push him, to break him, he never showed any signs of power. Not that it mattered to you. Felix was just Felix, whether he had powers or not.

"His mom sealed his powers when she knew it was getting dangerous. She knew your coven will want him for themselves. She couldn't risk him."

"And yet, they still got him."

Chris nodded grimly. "I think it was a mistake. With his powers, they would have never been able to capture him."

But his mother didn't want to take the risk. You could understand her thinking, even if you didn't like the outcome.

"Do you..." You hesitated. Freeing him from his prison was one thing, but without his powers, you didn't know how far he could get. "Do you know how I can help?"

Chris's lips stretched into a knowing smile. "Since you're already planning to spill your blood, make him drink it. Just a drop but it will be enough. I guess his mom had also the same thinking. No witches would give him her blood to trigger his powers."

You laughed at that. "I'm happy. I really am. But shit, we could have done it so long ago it's almost annoying."

Chris's grin widened. "Don't I know it."

☆☆☆☆☆

It was the middle of the night. And instead of finding a sleeping house, you found it in pure chaos. You had no idea what happened but everybody was awake and all over the place.

What the hell.

You tried to make yourself invisible. You didn't want to draw attention on you, not when you were planning to join Felix. But you lingered, hoping to get some information.

"I say we simply get rid of him! It has been years!" You heard your aunt Lauren's angry voice. But it wasn't just anger, no, her voice was laced with panic.

"Get a grip on yourself." Your grandmother snapped. "We're moving him like planned."

"But they're coming for him!" Your aunt protested.

You knew immediately who the they were. But how the hell did she know they were coming soon? Or was it just a guess because of those witches who had disappeared? You hoped for the latter.

"Then we move him tonight. By the time they will come, and if they come, he will be gone."

Not under your fucking watch.

Without wasting any more precious minutes, you made your way to the basement, making sure nobody saw you. You quickly texted Jisung, letting him know that there was a change of plan. They had to come tonight.

You were a little worried but also so excited to share the news with Felix. To finally look proudly at him as you had the solution to your problem. And more importantly you wanted to see him walk away from this place.

But all your excitement died at the sight of Felix. Felix and all the wounds covering his body. Your blood froze and for a second you forgot how to breath. "No!"

You ran to him and fall on the ground, reaching for him. "Why, when?"

"I'm fine." But as he lied straight to your face, he winced when you touched his arm.

"Fine my ass! Felix, what have they done?"

You had been away for few hours only and he was hurt. He was hurt and you weren't there for him. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. You couldn't bear to see him hurt.

"You do have a nice ass." He managed to joke.

"I'm so tempted to smack your face right now." You warned him. You were tempted but of course, you wouldn't do it. Instead you pulled his hand towards your lips and kissed the cuts. One after another.

"I'd let you." He admitted, smiling sheepishly.

"Felix!" You groaned. "I can't believe you're joking right now."

He chuckled at your anger and pulled you in his arms, pressing you tightly. "I'm just happy to see you."

You sighed and let yourself relax in his arms. Let his sweet scent engulf you. "Yeah, I thought for a second Minho would kill me this time."

At the mention of his brother's name, Felix froze, then, very slowly he pulled away, his eyes teary. "You saw Minho?"

You smiled softly as you nodded your head. "I saw all of them. Turns out Hyunjin had the solution to your problem."

"Ah shit." Felix sniffed, unable to hold back his tears.

You touched his face and stroked his cheek softly. "You're gonna be alright." You had no doubt about it.

You took a tiny knife out of your pocket and showed it to him. "To free you, we need both of our species’ blood, willingly given."

He stared at the knife and then at you and then again at the knife. He didn't hesitate as he took it and sliced the palm of his hand, letting more of his blood spill on the ground. He handed you back the knife and you took it. Your eyes locked on him, you did the same thing and let your blood spill, mixing with his.

One by one the candles extinguished.

And you felt it then, in the air, the shift. That odd magic that had once repulsed you was slowly vanishing.

And judging by the smile on Felix's face, he felt it too.

There was still one thing you had to do. You leaned closer to him and trapped his face between your hands. "Remember what I told you when you said you wanted to burn this place down?" You asked him.

You saw it then. His eyes, usually warm brown turned bright orange. Like flames. It was there and then gone again.

"You told me you'd give me the matches." He whispered as if barely believing your intentions.

You nodded in satisfaction. "Burn it." And with that you bit on your lips as hard as you could, wanting it to bleed. And it did. You crashed your lips against his, wanting to savor the moment. Who knew when you would have the chance again? But it didn't matter.

He was free.

You poured into the kiss all your emotions, all your love for him, all your needs and all your hopes. Maybe it was a goodbye. Maybe it was just the end of a chapter. Either way, you were excited for what the future held for you.

Felix had always been warm whether you touched him. But tonight, he was burning. You held onto him as long as you could but eventually you had to let go. You watched in astonishment how his eyes were now fully burning. You watched as the temperature got higher and higher in the room until you could barely bear it.

But you were not afraid.

"You should leave." He told you as he got back on his feet. He watched his hands as flames danced in the palm of his hands. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, feeling his power rising to the surface.

"Give me 10 minutes to get out, ok?"

☆☆☆☆☆

You barely stepped outside of the basement when two witches grabbed you.

Fuck my life.

Maybe you were going to burn with all of them, after all.

It should have terrified you. But it didn't. Yes, you hated that your chance of a better life, better future was going out of your reach. But hell, you were about to watch them all pay for all their evil doing. And that thought was kind of comforting.

You let them, without trying to fight back, bring you to your aunt and your grandmother. Your aunt was seething with anger. She never cared for you, in fact, now that you were older, you realized she had hoped your grandmother would decide to get rid of you. Finally, that day had come. Your grandmother, on the other hand, remained calm but her eyes were burning with anger.

"I am so incredibly disappointed." She told you.

The feeling is mutual.

Years ago, it would have pained you to hear those words. Tonight, you cared no longer.

She approached you and then came a slap. A strong one at that. She had never raised her voice or hand but apparently you being involved with a demon was the last straw.

"A filthy demon, really?"

You laughed at her face, no longer fearing her. "Filthy? And yet you so desperately want him."

Your aunt gasped at your audacity. The witches behind you tensed, ready for the storm.

But your grandmother remained composed. "Do you know what happen to witches who betray us?"

You knew and still didn't care.

They didn't deserve your loyalty. They didn't deserve your love. So you wouldn't fear them either. Just like Felix had never feared them.

"I really don't give a damn." You spat right at her face, watching as her eyes widens in horror at your audacity.

"You piece of shit." Your aunt yelled at you. Her magic manifested, making the room tremble.

You closed your eyes. There was little you could do to stop her; you knew your own magic wasn't strong enough. But then, shadows spread all around the room. Dark, wild, devouring everything on its path.

The witches behind you screamed in fear and pain. But you? You felt a warm caress on your back.

You knew those shadows.

"Hi Minho." You turned your face to look as the shadows vanished and instead he stood there, looking as nonchalant as ever. But no more hatred in his eyes as he looked at you.

"Hello kitten." He purred and smirked.

You didn't think you'd be happy to see him. But you were so damn happy.

"Did it work?" He asked.

But before you could answer him, the house shook. And you felt it then. An inferno rising right from the ground. Your ten minutes were up and Felix had brought hell to their step.

"What have you done?" Your grandmother whispered.

Minho wrapped a protective arm around you and pulled you closer to him. You didn't fight him back. Instead, you put your hand on his arm as you looked one last time, proudly, at your grandmother. "Righting a wrong."

Darkness engulfed your whole body. And the next moment you found yourself outside.

You barely took a step from Minho, another set of arms pulled you against a strong body.

"Bloody hell Y/N." Jisung cursed as he squeezed you in his arms. "I thought we were too late."

You chuckled in his arms and squeezed him in return. "Nope. Minho arrived just on time." You glanced at the said man. "Thank you for saving my ass."

"Don't get used to it."

You barely registered his words as the sight behind him captured your attention. The fire was spreading, wild, unforgiving, devouring everything and everybody on its way. You heard it then. The screams.

And you watched along with the two other demons as the coven was finally paying the price for their wrong-doings.

"Where are the others?"

"Making sure nobody escapes." Jisung explained and pointed at the house.

Minho snorted by your side. "Not that they can escape his wrath. Can you sense it? He's not holding back."

For a while, all of you just watched. Watched until the roof collapsed. Watched until slowly everything turned to ashes. Watched until Felix appeared, walking slowly, flames following him closely behind.

It was a beautiful sight, you fought. He was devastatingly beautiful.

You took a step forward but Jisung grabbed your hand and forced you back. "Don't. It has been years since he had used his powers. He can be dangerous."

"It's okay." You reassured him. Because there was one thing you were certain. Felix would never hurt you.

Jisung hesitated. He glanced at Minho but his friend only shrugged. Reluctantly he let go of your hand. "Just be careful."

It took you all your will-power not to run and jump in his arms. It was so damn tempting but Jisung's warning slowed you down. You didn't believe Felix would hurt you, but you also didn't want the sudden movement to trigger him.

As you got closer, Felix followed your every move. Your every step. The look in his eyes was new. You were coming face to face with a predator and despite your feelings, a shiver run down your body.

You stopped few steps from him and observed him. Now that his powers were back, all his wounds had healed. He looked healthier than you had ever seen him.

"How does it feel?" You asked him.

"It can be better." He answered and it made you arch a brow. He was free and had his revenge. What else could make him happier?

But then, Felix opened his arms widely and you knew right away what he wanted. What you both needed. And a big smile spread on your face as you didn't hesitate. You jumped in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist, holding him so tightly as if your life depended on him.

Felix buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet and comforting scent. "Thank you." He whispered and tightened his hold around you.

☆☆☆☆☆

There was something really incredible to be finally able to wake up feeling safe, cherished and in Felix’s arms. So many years, so many hardships and tears, but here you were, safely nestled in his arms, your head resting on his chest.

Nothing mattered anymore. No more witches reminding you what a waste of time you were. No more sneaking around to spend some time with Felix. No more fake family.

Now?

Now, you had found your happiness.

And lots of demons to deal with. It should have probably terrified you to find yourself stuck with them. But you weren’t. You had proved them easily that you were not like your peers. That you loved Felix and were a good friend. And they were easy to befriend too. Loud and funny and completely chaotic, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you could easily see yourself part of their little family.

Felix groaned in his sleep and tightened his grip around you. You smiled sheepishly, now fully awake. And hungry. You pressed your lips to his chest and slowly wiggled out his arms. You pushed the blanket off your bodies and straddled him.

He still didn’t wake up.

You admired his sleeping face and leaned over to pepper his face with kisses. You did want him to have a good rest, but it was his fault for being so damn addictive – you just couldn’t resist.

He stirred in his sleep but didn’t open his eyes. It didn’t deter you. Not even a little.

Your lips traveled from his face to his chest, to his already hardening cock. Your mouth watered. You leaned forward and had a taste. You hummed in satisfaction and excitement. You gripped the base of his cock and slowly slid its length down your throat. You choked, your eyes watering, but you were stubborn and wanted to have fun.

You quickly found your rhythm; licking, sucking, bobbing. You enjoyed the way his cock pulsed inside your mouth.

“Fuck, angel.” Felix groaned, his sleepy voice deeper than ever, as he tangled his hands in your hair. “You’re being so good for me.”

You moaned at the praise, taking him deeper. Having his cock hitting the back of your throat, set your own body on fire. You were burning with both need of pleasing him and watching him fall apart because of you, and the need to have him buried deep inside you again.

“Fuck.” He hissed.

You sucked harder, savoring the taste of him, savoring his every grunt and curse, knowing it was because of you. You watched him through your teary eyes as his chest rose and fell and his muscles tensed.

“Love, I’d love to come in your mouth but right now, I’d rather come inside you.”

You moaned around him, tempted to completely disregard his request, but then, your own body was begging for him to fill you. You pulled away with a little pout. “Fine.” And then licked your lips.

“And they say demons are wicked.” He chuckled.

“I learn from the best.” You winked and grabbed his hot, hard cock, guiding him towards you. “Ah fuck.” You closed your eyes, slowly sinking down, letting him fill you up. “Feels so fucking good.”

Both of you groaned in unison. He gripped your hips while you started moving. Slow at first, taking a moment to enjoy each drag of his cock against your walls. It felt too damn good.

Soft moans filled the air.

Felix fought back the need to take control. It was just so tempting to flip you over and pound into you. But you looked so sweet, so lost in your pleasure – it stopped him. He let you set your own rhythm, watched as your body arched with each roll of your hips.

“I love you.”

And his words made you still and look at him. At your little demon. You willed your tears not to spill but your body had a mind on its own. Felix reached out, kissing your tears away. “My fabulous, little witch.” And he kissed the tip of your nose, and then your cheeks and then your lips.

Before you could mutter the ‘I love you too’ that was right on the tip of your tongue, Felix thrusted from bellow, a little harder, a little deeper – you threw your head back, moaning loudly. The delicious pressure built inside you, faster and faster. Until your orgasm crashed over you, powerful, mind-blowing.

Felix held you tighter as he came inside you. “I love you.” He repeated again in a whisper. His arms still around you, he let you recover, brushing gently your hair from your face.

“I love you too.”

#stray kids #stray kids smut #felix #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #felix x reader #felix smut #stray kids fluff #let the world burn

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