#and dropping a wing that I don’t think anyone saw

[gatheryepens]

So I thought I’d give an update on my job, since I’ve had my first week…

[chanranghaeys]

🎼 complementary wavelengths

Wouldn’t falling in love with your research partner compromise the integrity of the research study? You had no idea. But if that were the case, then you were in for some major trouble.

pairing: university professor!vernon x high school teacher!fem!reader word count: 2.8k+ genre: fluff for valentine’s day! rating: g tags: non-idol au, distant college friends to ???, first love :(, they both grew up!, we stan emotionally healthy MEN in here warnings: i claim no accuracy on the academic process because i am not a teacher and no accuracy on the mathematics and scientific concepts here because i am absolutely not a mathematician or a scientist

a/n: surprise lexi @heechwe, i’m your secret cupid! a huge thanks to jupiter @ddeonghwa-s for hosting this secret cupid valentine’s event! it took A WHILE for me to churn this out but we persist and bounce back to writing! a very very special thanks to kae @ylangelegy for beta reading! and to @svtreverie, @choitcherryanne, and k for being my forever hypegirls mwa mwa

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✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“So, Ms. Y/L/N, do you have a Valentine's date already?”

You roll your eyes for what must be the millionth time. “For the last time, this is grounds for unbecoming conduct, young lady.”

“I’m just saying!” Your student Sofia laughs. “You deserve to have a good Valentine’s Day this year.”

“Since when have you played matchmaker for me, Ms. Chwe?”

“Since we saw you crying in the school parking lot,” Sofia’s best friend Meena chimed in supportively. Come on, Ms. Y/L/N. You can’t expect us to sit around and do nothing.”

“Especially not for our favorite Maths teacher!”

You shake your head at these two high schoolers. You knew you couldn’t play favorites amongst your students, but these two and their stubbornly infectious energy sparked a little of your youth back in you. Plus, you really couldn’t blame them because they were right about that school parking lot incident.

It was after this brunch date went terribly wrong a few weeks ago. And while it was very unbecoming of a teacher for her students to find her squat and sobbing against her car, these two were like guardian angels that took you under their wings and brought you ice cream and were girl’s girls all the way—as if they weren’t almost a whole decade younger than you.

Since then, Sofia and Meena would secretly try to find you a potential Valentine’s date amongst teachers, guardians, single parents, older siblings, school staff, or anyone at this point. They were wholly invested—and not just because you were the best teacher they’ve ever had in their very subjective opinion.

From afar, you see a familiar figure leaning against his car, signature plain white tee with jeans underneath his selected outerwear of the day—this time, it was a black denim jacket with a matching Yankees cap.

You've noticed him for a while now, dropping by a few days a week. You've thought about approaching him several times as well, but you always stopped this impulse. However, today was different.

“Sofia, would you mind calling over your brother here for a second?”

“What is this about?” Sofia had her eyebrow raised. Despite her age, it was hard not to take her seriously given that you were both standing at the same height.

“You know what this is about. He told me that you gave him my email address.”

A look of understanding lit in Sofia’s eyes. “Ah, that thing. Yeah, gimme a second.”

Meena stayed behind to continue the line of questioning. “So what’s that thing?”

“It’s a post-grad thing of sorts. Don’t mind it, you have enough schoolwork on your head to be thinking about this.”

She just chuckled in return. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I remind you that Sofia’s brother is single, handsome, respectful, decent, and smart. You can see why I personally have a vested interest in this thing already.”

“Meena.”

She heard your tone shift and straightened herself. It was a subtle reminder that she was still your student and that you were still her teacher.

“I’m just stating facts,” she said with a shrug and a quieter tone.

Sofia’s distant voice calling out for her friend caught both of your attention. At the same time, you see the figure in black and white walking toward you in his confident and deliberate strides.

“I’ll go ahead Ms. Y/L/N. See you tomorrow! And good luck on the thing,” Meena said with a smile and a wave. When she passes the figure, she does a slight bow out of respect, which he reciprocates. This exchange quirks up the corner of your lips. You recall what Meena said earlier, and it prods at you with an irk of frustration.

It frustrates you that she’s right.

When he finally stood before you with a smile, a flood of memories came crashing back. Suddenly, you’re back on your college campus standing underneath your favorite tree, a girl in front of a boy.

“I got your email, Professor Chwe. It’s been a while.”

“It has been a while Ms. Y/L/N.”

You chuckle at your monikers. Who knew two scruffy college students would turn out to be respectful academicians? “Formalities aside, it’s so nice to hear from you again Vernon.”

“Likewise.”

“I see the teaching gig in university hasn’t changed your sense of casual style.”

Vernon looks you up and down in your sensible collared button-up and slacks ensemble. You completely ignore the growing flutters in your stomach. “I can see that this high school has changed yours.”

“Well, you gotta do what you gotta do. The kids actually like my sense of style, mind you.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed Sofia starting to wear blazers all of a sudden. I never thought that it’d be you I’d blame for that.”

You feel something in your chest, a sudden churn and an unexpected leap. As a teacher, you’ve mastered your emotions enough to mask your face into one that wouldn’t give everything away. But these primal emotions were almost too much to bear.

Is this what it really feels like to face your first love after so many years apart?

“Anyway,” you continue as a means to deflect before anything else gives away your true feelings. “You emailed me about your dissertation? You really didn’t give much away. And you know you could’ve just sent me a message.”

“Oh, yeah!” Vernon nods vigorously in emphasis of your statement. “I need someone good in applied mathematics.”

“And you need me for that because?”

He blinks at you. “Because you are good at applied mathematics. I want your help for my musicology dissertation.”

You let out a sigh of disbelief. “Vernon, I—”

“And don’t you dare say you’re not good,” he insists with his finger pointed at you. “I’ve read your research papers. I don’t even know why you stay teaching in high school. You could’ve been tenured by now. Or on a sabbatical like me.”

He’s read my research papers? So he’s been following my work? You shake your head to clear these unnecessary thoughts, which are immediately replaced by a sense of uncertainty. “I don’t know, I’m pretty busy these coming months…”

You really didn’t know why you were avoiding it. This was the perfect academic opportunity and you had no idea why you were avoiding it.

Okay, scratch that. You knew exactly why—because of him.

“No problem, we’ll be able to pace the progress. Besides,” he continued, “you’ve always been my study buddy. I know we’ll be really good partners for this one.”

With one sentence, he has almost reduced you to a blushing schoolgirl with a huge crush.

Oh wait, weren’t you one already?

But still, you couldn’t resist stoking the flame that had been sparked inside you. So you ask, “Why me? Were there no other worthy research partners in your esteemed university?”

“Nope. I choose you,” he answered with a lopsided smirk. “I think you’ll understand why when you hear what my dissertation is about.”

“What is it about?”

“Do you wanna go out for coffee?”

“What?”

“What?” Vernon said in more of a statement than a question.

“What does coffee have anything to do with this?”

“Unless you want to keep standing here with your students watching us, I think it’s better if we continue this discussion somewhere else.”

You peer over his shoulder to see Sofia and Meena watching the two of you from the car like hawks, ready to catch any significant interaction that might give away what you two were talking about. When you met their line of sight, they were ready to bring their phones up to feign their disinterest.

“There’s a cafe on the next street over. If you’d like to go there…”

“Nice,” he said cooly, his voice low and sure.

He lifted his phone to his ear. From your peripheral vision, you see his sister raise her own phone in response. It was almost comical how you could see their silent reactions from across the courtyard, with Meena vibrating with excitement and slapping the other girl’s arm as you hear Sofia’s voice trying to sound calm through the speaker of Vernon’s phone. You see them hurriedly lowering the car window and lifting their thumbs up toward your direction.

They seem to think they have finally succeeded. You wouldn’t give them that benefit yet.

When he hung up, Vernon addressed your confused look. “Sofia’s been annoying me about getting the car anyway, so they can have it. Let’s walk?”

It was silent at first. The early afternoon sun cooperated with the cool breeze, setting the atmosphere for a nice leisurely walk. Students and office workers were milling around the nearby commercial strip, with the sounds and conversations all mingling in the background.

It had been years since you last spent time together like this, in an environment not too different from this one. After your study sessions in the library, you two walked together to your shared classes, which by some stroke of luck always seemed to happen for at least one class every semester until you graduated.

You both hung in different circles. He hung around with his fellow music majors in band practices and the college’s musicians organization, while you spent the majority of your time with your mathematics batchmates in the library or the school quad, catching up on problem sets and homework before you needed to make it to your choir’s rehearsals at night.

But when you ended up as seatmates in your first semester, you made a comment on the Bach piece he was listening to, how Bach was actually a pretty mathematical composer. He asked you how you knew that.

You said, “I take mathematics. I needed a cool fun fact for introductions.”

From that moment on, Vernon took it upon himself to make you appreciate how mathematical Bach’s pieces were. Music became your common language amongst everything else in the background, and the rest was history.

“Okay,” you began, “You know that we haven’t really spoken to each other since graduation. So…why choose me? Not that I’m complaining, though! I’m just…shocked, I guess. And confused. Because if you’ve read my research, you’d know that it’s been years since I published anything.”

Throughout your rambling, Vernon simply looked at you. When you finally stop, you notice the clear brown of them looking straight into you. It had been years, but they were the same eyes that looked at you, that listened intently when you were explaining a complex math concept.

It had been years, but that almost unblinking gaze of his still made your heart do unexplainable leaps in your chest.

You broke away from the intensity of his gaze. He took this as a cue to answer your question. “I was looking for research papers to help me form my framework. Then I stumbled on your computations of metered wavelengths and frequencies, and their relation to different kinds of sound.”

That paper. “Oh.”

His lips turned up in the corners when he continued. “I suddenly remembered how we randomly theorized this during one of our study sessions. I couldn’t believe you actually turned it into your master's thesis.”

“You still remember that?”

“Of course. I never thought I’d find someone so in tune with me and my random theories.”

“If you’ve read the paper, you’ll know that it wasn’t a random theory at all. You might just have discovered the makings of a postulate as a college sophomore.”

“It wouldn’t have been possible without your mind making sense of it. You really are the brightest of your batch.”

You scoff at the remark. “We’re not in college anymore, Vernon. There are a lot of other bright minds out there.”

“None quite like yours, I’m sure.”

You reach the cafe and order in—a decaf iced americano for you, and a hot chocolate for him. As soon as you two get seated, he finally launches into an animated discussion of his dissertation topic about discovering the medical applications of using the various sound wavelengths from certain types and compositions of music to aid in both the operation and healing process of a person, with the goal of identifying a singular formula to determine the right wavelength for each medical situation. He had his medical experts, all he needed was his mathematician.

It was a lot to digest, to say the least.

But by the end of it all, you were in awe of both Vernon and his mind. He is smart. He’d always been smart, but it felt like the confines of university and immaturity bounded his full potential. Now that he’s seen and explored the world of academia, he was able to finally showcase how bright of a mind he really is.

“Can I tell you something?” You set down your coffee and leaned forward.

As if second nature, he mirrored your action to the tee. “Shoot.”

“I’m proud of you. Really. You used to be this mysteriously awkward guy in college who just played around with guitars and 808s. But I always knew you’d put that big brain of yours to good use.”

He opens his mouth as if in reply, but stops midway and just smiles and scrunches his nose. After a beat, he nods with a look of quiet decision. “Can I tell you something, then?” He asks, worrying his thumb with his other hand as he looks at you. You nod in response.

“It was you that inspired me to be this version of myself. Because you can’t only be smart, you also have to work hard. None of my friends back then had that mindset, then came you.”

“What are study buddies for, yeah?” You raise your fist in front of you. He looks at it and smiles his trademark gummy smile. In return, he bumps his own fist into yours, reminiscent of how you two would check in on each other during extended hours in the library finishing a project or a paper. A fist bump to make the heads bump, you two used to say.

Instead of lowering his fist after, he holds it there flush against yours. “Would it be weird for me to say that it’s honestly more than that?”

“What do you mean?”

He took in a deep breath and let out an exhale just as deep. “When I read your papers, I remembered everything we went through in uni and I just…kinda fell in love with your brain again, I guess. Even until now, you—and your work—inspired me to just do it. Then you started popping up everywhere in my life again and…I remembered how I did kinda fall in love with everything else about you. I was just too young and chicken to see it before.”

It took you a whole minute to find your voice again because how could he be this nonchalant? “You’re really just here dropping all these truth bombs without any warning, huh?”

“Like you said, we’re not in college anymore. I’d rather say it now than never.” Vernon’s smile is a shy one, hidden behind his hot chocolate cup. You can’t believe it took a dissertation paper for anyone’s feelings to be revealed—much less his.

As your mind reels with Vernon’s revelation, you scramble your brains to come up with a lighthearted retort. “So are you still kinda in love with me? Just so I know what and how we’re working on this project.”

He chuckles. “I don’t think you’re doing any better. Don’t think I don’t see you staring whenever I fetch Sofia from school.”

You gape at his reply. “How do you even know where to look for me?”

“You’re her last teacher of the day and you both leave the school at the same time. I told you. You just came barging into my life again unannounced, and it wasn’t even your fault. You just sort of…fell in there.”

A smug look took over your features, one you really couldn’t help after hearing all that he had to say. “Vernon Chwe, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were so down bad for me.”

“For that whip-smart brain and that adorable smile, maybe—theoretically—astronomically and catastrophically down bad even.”

You fight the heat rising to your cheeks—and fail. After a cough to hide your growing embarrassment, you say, “I think we’re done for the day.”

“Sure. So. Same time tomorrow?”

You were about to answer when you suddenly realized, “Vernon, it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Don’t you have any other plans?”

He shakes his head and looks you straight in the eye as he says, “Just you. If you say yes.”

Wouldn’t falling further in love with your research partner compromise the integrity of the study? You had no idea. But if that were the case, then you were in for some major trouble.

[just-shairahhh]

Wings and Venom

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw fem!reader.

Part: One of (Undecided Yet).

Part Two | Part Three |

Summary: When Theodore Nott, a brooding Slytherin bound by his family’s dark legacy, and a fiercely determined Ravenclaw collide as Potions partners, sparks fly. What begins as sharp-tongued rivalries and cold glares slowly unravels into a connection neither of them expected. As secrets, prejudices, and insecurities surface, they must decide whether to let their differences define them or risk everything for a bond that could rewrite their stories forever.

A/N: Hi, everyone! I really hope you enjoy this story. This series contains themes of emotional repression, societal pressures, and the consequences of prejudice. Both characters are grappling with identity and self-worth. If you have any special requests you'd like for me to include in the storyline, let me know. And, I'd love to hear your views on this part.

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"If you’re so confident in your abilities, why don’t you take over completely?” Theodore snapped, his usual calm replaced with a simmering irritation.

For a second, you were taken aback. After all, you were just trying to help. But the surprise on your face was fleeting, replaced by a sharper undertone. “Maybe I should. We are, after all, being graded as partners. If you mess this up, it’s going to reflect on me.”

Theodore’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping a degree colder. “I’m not going to mess it up.”

“Really? Because your potion looks more like murky pond water than something worthy of Snape’s approval,” you retorted, your tone cutting.

Theodore’s temper flared. “You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, “some of us don’t have to rely on everyone else for everything. Some of us actually know what we’re doing.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. You've never had to rely on anyone for anything. You're one of the top students in your year, and you take immense pride in your hard-earned success. “What’s that supposed to mean? And what exactly would you know, then? Clearly, following instructions isn’t one of your strengths.”

Theodore’s voice dropped lower, his words coming out sharper than he intended. “You wouldn’t even know how to brew a proper potion if you weren’t holding someone else’s hand. Mudbloods like you don’t belong here.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the instant they left his mouth, Theodore immediately regretted them. His gaze snapped to your face, and he saw the flash of anger —something far sharper than he'd expected. You two had always clashed, sure, but it had never escalated like this. It had never felt this personal. Maybe it was the letter from his father that he got this morning, burning a hole in his pocket, feeding that simmering frustration inside him. But even then, there was no excuse for what he'd just said. He didn’t even believe in the Mudblood and Pureblood nonsense, despite his family’s obsession with bloodlines and their obsession with the old ways.

Your hands clenched on your cauldron, lips pulling into a tight line. “You really think that matters?” you chuckle, your voice cold and tight. There's no humour in them. “That your blood status is somehow better than mine?”

Theodore opened his mouth, to apologize, to explain that he hadn’t meant it—but you were already a step ahead. Sure, you and Theodore had clashed since the very first day you were paired for Potions, but this was different. This—this stung. You hadn’t realized just how deep the poison of old bloodlines ran within him. This idea, this poisonous belief, had nearly obliterated your existence from the very first year, before you could even fight for it. You’d fought tooth and nail to carve your place, to prove your worth—and no privileged, entitled prat was going to strip that away. Not now. Not ever.

“Must be nice to have your precious little pureblood status to fall back on, isn’t it?” Your voice cut through him like a dagger. “But maybe you should worry more about whether your daddy's name will protect you when people start asking questions you can’t answer.”

The insult hit him harder than he expected. His father. Theodore had lived in that shadow for years—had been consumed by it—and yet he couldn’t escape it. The weight of the name was suffocating. Every step he took felt like it was tied to his father’s reputation, pulling him further into the depths of expectations he never asked for.

And immediately his mind drifted back to the letter. That morning, a letter had arrived, sealed with his father’s unmistakable crest, a reminder of everything he could never escape. The letter sat heavy in his bag, unopened, as it always was, but its presence alone burned through him. A letter meant to remind him of his place, his bloodline, the legacy that was already set out for him. And now, here he was, echoing the same disdain he’d heard for years.

But this time, it was different. The words he had spat at you lingered, an unforgiving reminder of the man he was trying—and failing—to avoid becoming. What was he doing? Theodore’s mind raced, a blur of confusion and regret. Who did he want to be? The man he had been taught to become—driven by family, tradition, and bloodlines—or the man he feared becoming—the man who followed those ideals blindly, without question, without thought of the consequences?

The world felt like it was choking him again, and for a moment, all he could do was stand there, paralyzed by the sting of your words. The weight of it all pressed down on him—his father’s shadow, his family's expectations, and now, the sudden realization that he had pushed you away. The worst part was that with those words, he had seen the respect you once had for him—his intellect, his hard work, his quiet dedication—fade away. It was replaced by the same look everyone else gave him. The look of someone privileged, spoiled, entitled.

And he didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Why it cut deeper than anything else. But it did. It hurt in a way he couldn't explain, a way he didn’t know how to handle. Maybe it was because, for the first time, you saw him exactly as everyone else did. And that scared him more than anything.

But he wasn’t going to let you see how much it hurt. Without a word, Theodore turned and walked away, his footsteps loud and defiant. He didn’t look back.

.

.

.

That day, you entered your room, slamming the door behind you, the weight of the moment crashing down in a final, thunderous sound. Your bag hit the floor with a dull thud as you sank onto your bed, your thoughts spiraling back to your first year. Back when Draco would make cruel remarks about your non-magical roots, and every word felt like a dagger. It had taken you time—so much time—to accept who you were. The proud daughter of two hardworking, brilliant, loving parents who had raised you with love and strength. And you’d never let anyone—anyone—make you feel ashamed of that again.

Your intellect, your kindness, had always been the things that carried you forward, the things that earned you respect in places where golden blood could never flow. A respect that comes not from your lineage, but from your knowledge. And yet, Theodore’s dismissal of it today stung in a way you hadn’t expected. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why it hurt so much. It was as if he had shattered something delicate—something you had worked so hard to build.

“Hey,” a voice pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed the door crack open.

Elena, your best friend, stepped into the room with a sympathetic expression, her blonde curls bouncing slightly with each movement. “Bad day?” she asked, already dropping her bag by her desk and crashing next to you on your bed, like the two of you had done, for years.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you flopped back next to her, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know why I let him get to me,” you muttered. “It’s like everything I’ve worked for, all the things I’ve fought to stand by… he just dismissed them like they were nothing.”

Elena raised an eyebrow. She was mad at Nott herself for treating you the way he did in class. “Still thinking about Nott?" She asked, her lips pressed in a thin line.

You winced at the mention of his name. Theodore and you were never friends, but after being partnered up, it's like the last few weeks had been a rollercoaster of awkward glances, clipped conversations, and sudden, uncomfortable silences whenever the two of you were together. There had been moments when you thought things might’ve changed, but the tension was always there, just beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I don’t even know why it matters. He’s just one person. But he—he just has this way of making everything feel… wrong.”

“Well, I mean, that’s Theodore Nott for you,” Elena said with a mischievous grin, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced toward the door. “The broody, annoyingly good-looking Slytherin with a chip on his shoulder.”

You shot her a look, but Elena just shrugged, her expression turning playful. “What? He’s got that whole ‘mysterious bad boy’ thing going on. I’m just saying, it’s hard not to notice. And even harder not to fall for.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing tone in her voice made your cheeks warm. “You’ve got a weird taste in guys.”

Elena laughed, unfazed. “I’m not saying I’m interested. But let’s be real here, Theodore Nott is NOT a "weird taste in guys". He's like....” Elene finishes her sentence with a deep sigh, pretending to swoon over that one guy, most girls in your year had tried getting with.

You smiled, despite yourself. “Yeah, well, I used to think he was just some grumpy guy who didn’t care about anything. But there’s something different now. It’s like... he’s always watching. Waiting for me to mess up or something.”

Elena gave you a knowing look and straightens up. “It’s because he’s an absolute idiot, and you’re way too brilliant for him. He probably doesn’t know how to deal with someone who doesn’t fit into his little Slytherin world. But, if you ask me, I think he’s a bit jealous. You’ve got this whole ‘I-don’t-care-what-you-think’ vibe that he could never pull off, and it probably bugs him.”

You shot her a half-smile. “Yes, because it's so hard for Theodore to pull off that vibe. Please. His entire personality says "I don't give a shit" or "I'm too cool for school". Except he is smart as a whip."

"And that bothers you? I don't even know how the two of you got into this academic competition thing anyway." Elena asks with a huff.

You chuckled, shaking your head at the memory. “You know, it actually started in first year. I remember it so clearly.”

Elena raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes fondly. “We were in the library—no surprise there—and I was working on a potion assignment. I had it all figured out, but then I heard this voice. ‘You’re not supposed to add the powdered moonstone before the powdered dragon liver.’ And I looked up to see Theodore, sitting across from me, looking at me with a straight face. Except, his face was flushed. I'm guessing from all that ego boost he was getting from this." You scoffed again.

Elena leaned forward, grinning. “Let me guess, you argued?”

“Of course I did,” you said with a smile. “But then I double-checked, and he was right. He’s insufferable about it.”

"And that was the start." Elena finsihes.

"Yeah" You continue. "Potions and weirdly, Charms was always his thing. DADA and Care of Magical Creatures was mine."

"And both of you are collectively bad at Divination" Elena supplies.

"Hey! We just don't believe in the concept." You defend.

"Riiiight" she drawls playfully.

Elena and you spend the night gossiping about your previous school years. You were so grateful for her. She always had her way of making you feel better about things and distracting you from what hurts you, when you need it.

.

.

.

The next morning, Theodore enters the Potions classroom and immediately notices that you’re not sitting at your usual desk beside him. Just then he heard a melodious laughter, from the back of the room. His eyes snapped to it immediately, as if his body had its own reaction to that laughter he had now gotten used to and somewhere, started to love. And there you are, sitting with another Ravenclaw, whatever-his-name-was, who was whispering something that made you laugh. You’re laughing—something that, only yesterday, he could have made happen with just a quiet remark, a sarcastic comment. The sight twists something inside him, a pang sharper than he expected.

He freezes for a moment, caught off guard by the unfamiliar weight in his chest. Why did it bother him so much? It wasn’t like you were friends. If anything, the two of you had always been at odds, sniping at each other over Potions techniques or study strategies. You were supposed to be rivals—partners by necessity, not choice. So why did seeing you so deliberately avoid him feel like… loss?

He’d spent most of the night replaying his words, hating himself for how easily they’d slipped out. A part of him had thought he’d come in today and—well, not apologize, exactly, but something. Fix it, maybe. Yet now, watching you sit so far away, the distance between you felt bigger than just a few feet. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why that mattered so damn much. So, in that moment, he did the only thing he could—he kept stealing glances at you. There wasn’t a single trace of yesterday’s storm etched onto your face. It was as if it had never happened. And yet, the ease with which you seemed to have erased it from your mind gnawed at him. He didn't want you to hold onto whatever he had let slip in a moment of weakness, he had spent most of last night trying to erase the memory of your hurt expressions. The fleeting vulnerability that passed through your face in that moment, stabbed at his heart more times than he could have counted. Yet, he didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—why this indifference bothered him so much.

What he doesn’t realize is that you’ve been watching him, too. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him hesitate, his posture tense, his movements less precise than usual. His uniform is rumpled, his tie hanging loose and slightly crooked, a stark contrast to his usual meticulous appearance. His dark circles are more pronounced today, as though he didn’t sleep at all last night, and his hair, usually tousled in a way that feels deliberate, looks like he’s run his hands through it one too many times.

Your frown deepens as you catch the way his jaw clenches and unclenches—a habit you’ve noticed he falls into when he’s agitated. He looks… off. Tired. Worn down.

You try to shake the worry off. He doesn’t deserve your concern, not after yesterday. Still, it’s there, lingering at the back of your mind like a whisper you can’t ignore. You tell yourself you’re just being observant—it’s what you do, after all. But deep down, a part of you wonders why he looks like the weight of the world is pressing on his shoulders. And why you care at all.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you turn towards Nathan and try to focus again on whatever he was saying, his voice a low hum against the storm of thoughts in your head. You nod absently, trying to piece together a response, but the weight of the tension in the room—of him—is impossible to ignore.

Nathan says something that might have been a joke, and you force yourself to muster up a smile, hoping it looks convincing. You don’t want him to notice your mind is elsewhere, but it is. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts keep drifting back to Theodore: his rumpled uniform, the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders seemed to sag just a little more today.

You shift in your seat, gripping your quill tighter than necessary, willing yourself to stay present. Whatever this is—this inexplicable worry that keeps pulling at you—it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But no matter how hard you try to push it away, the image of him, sitting there in silence, keeps creeping back into your mind.

The bell rings, pulling you out of your thoughts, to signal the end of the lesson, and Theodore watches as you gather your things quickly, almost too quickly, like you're trying to avoid anything that might make your paths cross. You don’t even glance in his direction. It’s like he’s invisible, like all the moments, the words, the discussions you’ve shared have been wiped away in an instant.

But as you reach the door, something unexpected happens. You pause, just for a fraction of a second, your hand gripping the frame as though you’re hesitating. Theodore catches the movement, his heart leaping despite himself. He doesn’t know what he’s hoping for—an accusation, an apology, a glance, anything—but then you step out without looking back, leaving him sitting there, alone with his thoughts.

He stares at the empty doorway, jaw tightening as the silence in the classroom swallows him whole. And then, as if on instinct, his fingers brush against the letter in his pocket—the one from his father, the one he hasn’t stopped thinking about since yesterday. His gaze flicks to the spot where you’d been sitting.

“Tomorrow,” he mutters under his breath, so low even he barely hears it. “I’ll fix this tomorrow.”

.

.

.

[toruro]

— ✧ devil by the window

temptation touched my tongue / spread the wings of desire (a friday the 13th special)

description: all your fairy friends warned you not to get tangled up with the demons that lurk on the ground, but you swear on every star in the sky that minghao is different.

warnings: smut (18+), consent is clear but reader is somewhat unaware of what sex is

tags: enchanted forest au, demon hao, fairy reader, corruption kink, loss of virginity, innocence kink, pet names (fairy, pretty), condescension, brief implied exhibitionism

w/c: 5k+

request: hiii for hao could u write fairytailesque theme umm like vibes of love between fairy and devil cdrama! mean dom hao secretly a softie for u<33 i feel like u would rock it!!

a/n: i got something out for friday the 13th! sorry to anon for losing the og ask, hope u see this! for those who saw the first version of this, i am sorry. i popped this out by listening to freefall while being high as hell

Joshua was the first to warn you about those who live below. Those who lurk in the shadows, waiting, and waiting, and waiting to pounce on the first naive soul to cross their path.

You didn’t quite believe him at first. Your head was in the pristine clouds that float above; living your little fairy life among the heights of the forest, days spent buzzing around with your friends, glowing smiles and shining eyes, petal-cloth dress flowing over your soft skin as you flutter from tree to tree—your life was perfect.

Seokmin tells you about it next. He recites a story of one of his friends, Chan, who got a little too close to the ground. The young boy hardly escaped the luring hands of a demon who crept up on him, and to this day, Chan has a scar on his left ankle.

Maybe catching sight of the little mark on the other fairy’s skin the next time you saw Chan was a little bit of a reality check, but still, you don’t worry too much.

After all, how could you? Your life was perfect, so what need was there for all this tension? All this trouble, worrying about a world so, so far away …

⟢

You’re falling.

You’re falling unimaginably fast.

You’re not really sure how it happened—you were floating through the trees and something in your magic spasmed for a second and the next thing you know you’re flailing around, unable to get those sparks flying again.

And you try to yell for help, call for Seokmin because he’s the last one you’d seen, a cold rush overwhelming your body when you realize you’re too far down for him to hear you anyways. You close your eyes tight and brace for the impact as you feel the bases of the trees grow thicker as you near the ground and then—

Wait, what? Why didn’t you hit the ground and—oh, you’re floating again. Reflexes must’ve kicked in upon realizing the difference in air pressure.

It takes a few moments to get yourself back on balance using what little energy you’ve got left. You’re dangerously close to the ground—mere meters hovering above it, really, but right as you think you’ve managed to flutter up a bit higher, you lose control again, dropping straight down with no luck on your side to stop you.

You crash down into the ground, letting out a soft shriek as your body thuds. It shakes you for a moment but as you look around, you’re endlessly grateful to have fallen on a relatively soft patch of grass. Dusting yourself off as you try to sit up straight, the fact that you are now on the ground without your magic is dawning on you.

You aren’t sure how long you sit there, just gazing at the thick, dark trees around you. It’s rather peaceful, you wonder if you landed on the same grounds that Chan did when he got that scar. You doubt it.

You gaze up at the sight, soft breaths and gentle eyes, and you start to think that the ground is much nicer than anyone has ever told you but suddenly, there’s a rustling in the bushes behind you. In an instant you feel cold.

Dreadfully cold.

So cold, you don’t dare to turn around, figure cowering in on itself as you shut your eyes tight when the rustling intensifies, turning into thudding footsteps that approach you. And then, it stops, and you believe for a gracing second if the thing has left you alone, but you know better than that because after just five seconds of silence, you hear it breathing from above.

“Wh—who are?” you murk up the courage to whimper, wincing as you hold a hand up to face your face.

Through the fingers, you catch the silhouette of a man. He doesn’t look much different from all the other boys you’ve seen before, and you wonder if you should take your chances and let your hands drop. 

“Are you …” Your breath hitches in when you finally look at him—chiseled jawline and sharp, cold eyes that watch you carefully. You feel your palms sink into the ground as you try to scurry back, but suddenly, it feels as though your hands can’t move. “... a demon?”

The pretty man smiles, but some funny feeling in your stomach tells you he isn’t exactly happy. He smiles oddly, and then he chuckles. He chuckles oddly, and then he laughs.

“What do you think, fairy?” His voice is cool and crisp, cutting through you like a blade of ice. The chill is thrilling. You think back to the story Seokmin always tells you. The scar on Chan’s ankle. The words of caution Joshua is always careful to remind you of.

“Y-you don’t look l-like the other—” You stop yourself from speaking because the shake in your voice is too much. You never even knew you could produce such a sound so potent in … fear? Enthrallment? Heat? You aren’t sure.

“The other what?” Slowly, he inches forward, and still you can’t find it in you to move away. You’re starting to think that you simply don’t want to.

His long, black hair wisps over his forehead and a few strands sit above his nose, and you can’t help but admire his natural elegance. He’s standing right next to you now, and as you look up at him, something in the back of your head buzzes.

Your ears are flooded with a white noise and some part of your brain is telling you you should be scared. You should be terrified, and you should wail for Joshua or Seokmin or Mingyu to come help but a much more convincing part of your brain tells you to stay put. To look up at this demon with wide eyes and parted lips. To whisper, “Demons. The other demons.”

He crouches over you now, so close that you feel his warm breath on your forehead. “Have you ever seen a demon?” You shake your head no, too afraid of the sound your throat might make if you try to speak.

He grins, and this time you don’t question the sincerity. He holds out a hand, and you think to yourself that such beautiful fingers could never taint skin like Chan’s.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs into the hazy air.

You don’t hesitate to take his hand.

Your magic comes back by the end of that day, and you are able to flutter your way up with Minghao’s name and a bidding farewell on your tongue.

You don’t tell the other fairies about what you do at night now. You don’t tell the other fairies how after everyone’s settled into their little abodes that linger from the branches, you creep out of your own. You don’t tell the other fairies about the beautiful views you see as you wisp through the trees, catching cool leaves on your skin as you slowly start to flutter down.

You don’t tell the other fairies of the little, illuminated pond you dip your toes into, or how when you turn around as your feet plant into the soil, Xu Minghao is already slipping into your line of vision from behind a thick trunk.

Dark cloth hangs off his chiseled figure, loose ends flowing with the night zephyrs. He sits on a rock by the pond as you cross your legs over on the verdant green grass, light dress splaying thinly over your thighs, skin shimmering under the moonlight.

He talks to you, tells you about his life, his friends. Every night, you listen with your lips slightly parted as you watch him and his dark hair. He teaches you about the ground, about the soft soil you sit upon, he teaches you about the roots of trees, about the little animals that scurry by the trunks, he teaches you that there is so much that lies beneath the tree tops, that there is so much you still don’t know.

Seungcheol laughed at Minghao earlier when he crept away from where he and his friends usually spend the night. “Going off to see your little fairy?” (Minghao wonders if the weird feeling in his stomach erupts from embarrassment at Seungcheol’s tone, or from a growing warmth when he refers to you as his.)

His friends find it a little funny—a fairy and a demon conversing at the dead of night, but he doesn’t really find it amusing at all.

Enthralling, would be the right word actually, because you come down every midnight where he teaches you, and he teaches you, and he teaches you so much, and your eyes are so beautiful, your voice so kind, your smile so bright, and so you teach him what it means for his heart to race.

You two sit together tonight, your hands neatly folded over your lap as you sit on your knees; Minghao sits next to you, legs out in front of him as he leans back on his arms. Under the light of the half moon above, you’re both silent.

You don’t have anything to say, not tonight. The cool air that sits between says enough.

Some time through the moments you sit in silence, Minghao has a hand brushing over your knee. The touch is gentle and cool like the breeze that washes over your bodies. He leaves his fingers there for a few, graciously long minutes, watching you from the corner of his vision to see if you’ll turn away.

He thinks he might lose his damn mind when you don’t move an inch. And so he moves an inch up your thigh, another inch and then he’s under the pretty petals of your skirt, another inch and then he’s almost brushing against the soft fabric that’s nestled between your legs.

Minghao watches you carefully—the way you chew on your bottom lip and your hands squeeze each other a little tighter and then—fuck, you’re squirming already?

“W-what are we doing Minghao?” you ask him so sweetly he feels he might melt into the ground and take you down with him. You have the vaguest of ideas of where this is going to go, and the thought makes your skin bloom with shivers.

“I …” His breath hitches in his throat when you look at him with eyes that look at him like he holds the universe. “I can show you.”

When you flutter your eyes shut, nodding as you whisper, “Show me,” into his mouth, Minghao wraps his arm around your torso and pulls you onto his lap. His kisses are slow but telling; pressing his lips into yours, tongue lapping at your mouth until you gasp and open yourself to him again. Legs locked around his sides as his hands grip onto your waist, your noses against each other in tandem in hopes to dig deeper into the kiss.

You’re shy against Minghao, lips working fervently—you can tell just from the way his fingers glide up and down your sides, the way his tongue melts into yours, the way he holds you—you feel so safe with him.

And then there he is, hands sliding beneath the skirt of your dress and bunching the shining fabric up to your waist; the cool air hits your skin as you gasp into Minghao’s mouth, hugging him closer instinctively. In doing so, you shift forward, core brushing dangerously close to the hardness between his dark pants, and you swear you hear Minghao mutter a curse you’ve never heard before. The sound makes your tummy do tumbles.

“You’ll let me take this off … hm?” he murmurs as he pulls away, fingers toying with the sheen hem of your skirt.

“Y-yeah,” you murmur, shuffling backwards so you slip off his lap. You lean back on your hands in the grass with a deep sigh, legs spreading out in front of you as Minghao climbs onto his knees. His fingers start at your ankle, and the way his hooded eyes watch you lustfully has your breath caught in your throat.

He slowly trails his fingers over your legs, starting from your calf and moving up until it’s brushing past your knees and suddenly his palms are pressing on your inner thighs and shoving your legs apart to reveal the pretty white panties that sit in the middle.

Your core buzzes with a heat, and you find your bottom lip clamped between your teeth as you try not to whine when Minghao’s finger grazes over the thin fabric. “M-mingh—hao,” you breath out, when he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck and sucks hard against the skin.

Your skin flushes with heat and a sharp sting when his teeth graze over you, but the small moan that leaves your lips sings a melody of pleasure as he swipes his tongue over the bruising mark. Your mouth falls wide open, neck falling back, and Minghao slots one hand between your legs, pressing the pads of two fingers against that one bundle of nerves that has you squirming into the ground.

“O-oh,” you mutter as your hips start to erratically swivel against his in hopes for more friction.

“Patience fairy,” Minghao sings in that sickly sweet tone of his. You wonder if he dropped from the treetops himself from the way he coos so kindly.

“It feels—oh … Oh, Minghao—”

“Tell me pretty … tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispers in a dangerously low tone, breath fanning over your neck in a way that sends shivers down your spine. Minghao traces methodical circles around your clit, and you can feel a warm wetness grow beneath your panties, causing the fabric to stick against your slick core.

You want to thrash in his arms and squirm into his hold—you want to let tears well up in your eyes and cry because everything’s feeling so good and you can’t think … can’t manage a single damn word.

“Feels—feels good,” you manage out in broken huffs of breath, legs spreading wider than you thought they could. Minghao chuckles as he lifts his head back to watch the way you tremble in front of him, and if you weren’t so dizzy on pleasure, you’d be burning from embarrassment.

“Yeah? Can make you feel even better if you …” He shrugs casually and gestures towards your dress and panties. “If you move some stuff out of the way.”

You don’t hesitate to yank at the straps of your dress,  shoving them down haphazardly with trembling fingers. You’re on fire, if anything, and Minghao grins widely as he helps you desperately shimmy out of your clothes.

You start with the dress, flowy fabric slipping off your shoulders and falling down your stomach, finally pooling at your hips where Minghao takes control and pulls it off your legs. You’re left clad in only your panties which are now sheen with arousal, cool air pricking at your bare skin under the moonlight.

“Oh fairy,” Minghao nearily moans when you finally lay back down on the grass, tits bare and spilling all over your chest as your naked legs make room for him to sit between them. “So pretty … so naughty …”

“‘m not naughty,” you try to mumble, but the hoarse desperation in your voice gives you away. “J-just, wanna feel go—oh—good,” you finish with a heavy sigh when Minghao’s fingers are at your core again but this time, sliding your panties to the side to reveal your folds.

“Feeling good, huh pretty?” Minghao murmurs, not giving you a moment’s rest as he plunges his fingers right into the dripping mess. You cry out, back arching off the soft grass as you feel the length of his long, thick fingers slide between your pulsing folds.

“Oh, f-fu—” Your eyebrows furrow when you feel one finger circle around your glistening hole, causing your whole body to twitch with an ache you didn’t even know was possible to feel.

“Say it fairy, say it,” Minghao groans, hearing the dying words on your lips.

“It’s dirty,” you whimper, one hand shooting down to circle around his wrist as you try to guide his finger into your throbbing hole, but Minghao holds his stature firm.

“Say it, or I won’t make you feel good,” he threatens, and your eyes widen as a complaint bubbles at your throat. The way Minghao gives you that warning, predatory look shuts you right up.

“Oh—oh fuck,” you finally mewl. The way your plush lips let the word fall so kindly from your lips has Minghao’s head spinning, and he can’t even find it in him to control himself when he finally sinks his fingers into your hot cunt. “Minghao—”

“So scandalous, huh pretty?” Minghao asks you with condescension dripping from his tone as your eyes roll to the back of your head when he rubs his fingers against your gummy walls. “The perfect fairy … messing around with some fuckin’ mean-faced, bad, bad demon.”

“‘s’not like that,” you try to gasp out, core throbbing when he somehow sinks his fingers in deeper. Your legs writhe around Minghao, but his firm hand plants itself on your right thigh, pressing you down and into compliance.

He hums lowly, the sound rumbling deep in his throat as he watches you struggle to keep your composure; Minghao can see it already—the way your forearms tremble under your weight as you lose yourself to him entirely. “You sure fairy? ‘cause from what I’m seeing … it’s exactly like that.”

There’s a protest right at the tip of your tongue but then he grazes against this one spot inside your hot, tight cunt that has you crying out, head thrown back, eyes rolling all over the place until you’re panting: “M-Minghao it feels—oh, don’t stop!”

There’s a dark sort of grin that tugs at his plush lips as those words leave your mouth. With one eyebrow raised, he starts to fuck his fingers into you faster, thumb toying roughly with your clit as you mindlessly buck your hips into his hand. “Aw, my pretty’s gonna cum? You gonna cum?”

There isn’t a single thought in your mind, and even if there was, you wouldn’t be able to comprehend what Minghao was saying, yet still there’s that funny, burning feeling building in your stomach as all you know is that you don’t want to let it—you can’t let it stop. ��Y-yeah,” you whimper as your walls tighten around his fingers. “Yeah … H-hao—I wanna cum.”

Minghao smirks at the slurred words, placing a kiss on your shoulder blade when he feels you spasm under him. “Cum for me, fairy,” he murmurs when you cry out his name, hands flying up to grip his shoulders as waves of pleasure crash down on you.

Broken words die at your lips as you erupt into high pitched moans , orgasm taking over you; Minghao sucks and nips at your neck until finally tracing his lips up to yours, engulfing you in a deep kiss as you ride out the high.

“There we go fairy, pretty fairy … looks so cute when she cums …” Minghao says once he finally pulls away, gazing down at your blown out eyes as you struggle to sit up right. Steadily, he lifts his hand from between your legs, tracing the warm stickiness across the insides of your thighs before holding it up in front of your face.

“Th-that’s—” You inhale deeply before continuing, still staring at the glistening arousal that coats his fingers. “—that’s embarrassing, Minghao,” you rush out, reaching out to swat his hand away, but he dodges and instead plunges the fingers in his own mouth.

His eyes don’t break away from yours, staring down at you in a way that has your sensitive core buzzing all over again with that sweet excitement. “You taste so good, pretty,” Minghao says lustfully, finally pulling his fingers out with a loud popping sound. He watches you carefully for a few moments—the way your pupils are dilated, your bare chest heaving gently, skin wearing a glossy layer of sweat, face flush with swollen lips …

Minghao wants to ruin you.

“You’ll let me do more, pretty?” he asks, and the way he peers down at you with dark, alluring eyes has your head nodding before you can even think to imagine what Minghao means by more. “Good fairy,” he purrs, crawling onto his knees back between your legs, nudging your thighs apart.

“What—what are we doing?” you ask him innocently, eyes widening when he reaches for the dark, ragged shirt that hugs his torso and pulls it off. Your first instinct is to reach out and touch because fuck, he’s beautiful, and you’ve always been one to admire the beautiful.

His body is firm with muscle, heavy round shoulders shining under the moonlight as you back into the ground. Minghao is on top of you now, hands on either side of your head as he hovers over you. “You’ll feel good,” he tells you, watching how you run your hands all over his sides as if you were a child being shown candy for the first time.

“Again?” you ask innocently, eyelashes batting up to look him in the eye as your hands instinctively find the waistband of his pants. Minghao lets one corner of his lips lift up in a half smile, nodding his head as if to tell you to go on.

“Yeah, again,” Minghao reaffirms, and you’d be lying if you didn’t squeeze your thighs just a little closer together at the thought. “We’ll feel good together,” he says, and oh this will mark the loss of your sanity, because something in your blood buzzes at the thought of Minghao feeling good right alongside you and you spiral.

Suddenly desperate, you’re yanking down his pants—you don’t even know what’s coming your way (have no clue really), but you also don’t care because you’re just so needy and you know (you just know) Minghao will give it all.

“There we go,” he coos, helping you out with one hand to shove down the dark pants and black underwear that sits beneath. His length springs out in an instant, firm as it hits against your inner thigh with a loud slapping sound that rings in your ears.

Eyes glossy as you mindlessly gaze down at him, your mouth watering at the mere sight of the flush red tip, milky white oozing out from the top and glittering under the minimal light. “You like the sight, fairy?” he asks, reaching to pinch your cheek lightly. Your nose scrunches up for a moment, but you soon lean into his touch when your eyes trail back down to his thick length.

“Y-yeah,” you admit bashfully, letting him shuffle closer between your legs until his length sits on your stomach, balls pressed against your puffy folds. The light contact has your head going dizzy already, and takes every ounce of self restraint to not moan at the feeling.

“G’na be right here here,” Minghao mutters, running his wet fingers over the base of his length, holding it up just to tap it back down on the base of your stomach. “Cock’s gonna fuck you all the way here,” and the thought of being so deep seems to be just as numbing to Minghao as it is to you because you catch the way he gulps down hard.

“Please,” you choke out when he shifts against you, his cock brushing against your throbbing clit a bit harder. “Please—fuck, I need it now, Hao—please.”

“Poor fairy,” Minghao groans, pulling his hips back so his cock no longer rests against your stomach but now slides between your sticky folds. “Poor, poor baby … begging a filthy demon for his cock.”

The way your cunt tightens around nothing at his words has you questioning everything anyone has ever told you, but the thoughts are wiped from your mind when his fat tip nudges against your now aching hole.

“Oh fuck, it’s s’big Minghao,” you murmur when he presses himself into you. “O-oh, I don’t—I don’ think s’gonna fit,” you gasp out when he slips in further, eyes stinging with tears of both pain and pleasure.

“You want to stop?” he asks, stilling his movements.

“No!” you exclaim, a little too quickly maybe, because your excitement has Minghao’s eyes darkening in a way that tells you you’re really in for it now. “I-I—no … I don’t want you to stop.”

“Hm,” Minghao hums while nodding. “Then there’s nothing to worry about,” he says casually in that low, gravely voice that has your breath getting stuck in your throat. “I’ll make it fit.”

Your legs tremble when he sinks his length into you even deeper, punching moans right out of your lungs and squirming under his arms until you feel his pelvis brush against your clit. You’re a babbling mess right now, Minghao having his chest pressed against yours as you whisper into his mouth about how it “feels so good,” how you “feel s’full,” how you’re “in love … so in love.”

“See fairy,” he murmurs, dragging his length out at a dangerously slow pace before shoving back into you at once so fast his balls slap against your skin with a harsh sting. “Made it fit, didn’t I?”

You wanna cry out and say yeah, yeah he fucking did, but your tongue feels like lead when you try to speak, only moans and squeaks of pleasure escaping your lips as his cock fucks into you faster. Minghao’s got one hand by your head, the other trailing all over your body—tracing the curves of your torso, cupping the flesh of your tits, playing with the sensitive nub of your nipple—you might as well be insane from the way your blood rushes at the feeling.

It’s so much—so, so, so much and you aren’t even sure how your body is taking it all, but there Minghao is, whispering sweet, dirty nothings by the shell of your ear.

“You like it? You like it don’t you fairy?”

“Wonder what the other fairies would think of this …”

“Moan louder pretty … put on a show for the whole damn forest, will you?”

It’s a muddled mess in your head, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you dig your heels into the ground to help thrust your own hips upwards to meet the snap of Minghao’s hips. The sloshing puddle of wetness between your thighs lets out obscene sounds that bounce off the trees around you. You wonder if you should be ashamed by how the sound makes your cunt clench.

“Put your hands up pretty,” Minghao grunts through sharp, pointed thrusts. The words fly over you for a moment, not understanding a bit of what he’s saying until his movements still and your eyes widen.

“W-what—why’d you—”

“Put your hands up.”

“S-sorry,” you moan in blind compliance, quickly lifting your hands and crossing your wrists above your head. Minghao’s larger hand is over them in an instant, pressing them into the soft grass as he goes back to fucking into you.

It’s messy now; hips jamming into hips in a passionately frantic pattern that has your body throttling in all kinds of directions until that familiar feeling balls inside of you once more. “Hao, ‘m gonna cum—”

“Wait. We’re supposed to feel together, right? Isn’t that right fairy?”

“Fuck!” you whine, hands thrashing under the strong hold Minghao has on you, desperate to touch him. “Don’t think I can wait, Minghao—oh—”

“You can do it fairy, do it for me,” he demands, punctuating the last word with a deep thrust that has your stomach feeling like it’s being pushed just to make room for him. “Hold it,” he orders, and you would be damned if you disobeyed Minghao, and so you dig your fingers into his back and pull him down for a deep kiss, trying to hold off from your impending orgasm.

He kisses you sloppily, and there’s tongue and teeth and lips all over each other until you’re both pantining into each others’ mouths. “Are you gonna cum?” you ask frantically when he pulls away, eyebrows furrowed with pure desperation. “Please—please, oh my g—Minghao, I need a cum!” you cry out as your walls begin to flutter and your legs begin to shake.

“Cum fairy—cum all over me,” Minghao groans when you tighten around his cock as he rails into you relentlessly, feeling his own end come near. “Lemme cum inside, pretty, fuck—”

Your mind spins at the thought of Minghao filling your hot cunt up and you can’t even think straight before you start to beg, “Yes, yes, yes please.”

“Fuck, gonna let me fill this fairy pussy all the way up, huh? Oh—pretty, fuck I’ll cum if you keep squeezing me like tha—oh.”

Something warm fills your core, walls spasming in an overstimulated mess as Minghao continues to fuck the oozing liquid back into you with vigor. “Shit—Minghao,” you whimper once his hips finally start to slow and eventually still, softening cock flopping out of your drenched folds.

His eyes are sharp as they watch you look up at him hazily. “That felt nice,” you murmur, swaying a little as the aftermath of two orgasms leaves you a trembling mess. Minghao is quick to reach for you, steadying you in his arms and onto his lap, bringing you in for a kiss.

It’s soft and sloppy, and you can feel your senses getting muddled up all over again as you cuddle into him. Minghao chuckles softly, looking down at your figure and then the dark trees that are around.

“Fuck, fairy …” He grins when he catches a glint of a dark eyed demon in the shadows. “You really put on a damn show, huh?”

(Minghao wonders how many times he’ll get to fuck you before Jeonghan starts telling the other demons about your guys’ little secret. Not that that’ll stop him anyways—he’s got the prettiest fairy in the whole damn forest at the palm of his hands, and he’d be damned if he let you go.)

[hazbinshusk]

“Y’know, I’m startin’ to think the Princess was right about puttin’ in a limit on the drinks,” Husk’s smooth baritone had a humorous lilt to it as he breaks the silence in the bar. His speaking brings you back to the right side of the line of consciousness you’ve been see-sawing for the last twenty minutes, and you frown as you tilt your head back to meet his eye. “You good?”

You groan quietly, leaning an elbow on the bar and dropping your cheek heavily into your hand. You’re aware that you’ve been less than good company the last few hours, but Husk hasn’t really seemed to mind. In fact, you could almost swear that he was… content with you, even maybe happy to just experience the quiet with you sitting on the other side of the bar. Still, you straighten, raising an eyebrow at him teasingly. “Why’re you asking? Don’t I look good?”

He blinks at you before a rueful smirk touches your features. “Get enough bourbon into you and you start takin’ a page right outta Angel’s playbook, huh?”

You smile crookedly back up at him. “Is that a ‘no’?”

You swear that Husk’s eyes dip down over your figure for a moment. You could also swear that his gaze lingers for a second longer on your chest and that his cheeks pinken slightly as he meets your eye again. “Pleadin’ the fifth, sweets.”

Smile widening into something sweeter, you straighten in your seat, leaning towards him on your elbows. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

He gives you a small, almost bashful smile of his own, slinging the bar rag over his shoulder. “You wanna talk ‘bout whatever’s got you down?”

You shrug a shoulder, running a finger around the rim of your empty glass. “Don’t you ever get sick of listening to everyone else’s problems?”

“Every damn day,” he smirks, and you giggle. The expression warms his face further at the sound, his ears flicking forward as though to catch every part of it. “It’s a hazard of the job. But I’ve been holdin’ the title of resident lush here for a while now, and I’m worried you’re gonna go and dethrone me."

You laugh again, pushing your glass towards him hopefully. “Speaking of…?”

Husk’s golden eyes study you for a moment, taking in the almost playful pout you give him before he gives a relenting sigh. “One more. But only if you chase it with water.”

“You drive a hard bargain, bartender.” you reply. “But I’m a fancy gal – I’m gonna need a lemon wedge.”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes good-naturedly as he turns to reach for the bourbon bottle. You rest your chin back in your hand, admiring the sleekness of his wings idly, the shine in his fur and the muscles in his shoulders. He catches you staring as he returns to pour you a fresh glass, raising an eyebrow at your expression.

“Anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?”

Husk makes a soft cattish noise of surprise in the back of his throat. That pink in his cheeks reappears before he scoffs, sliding your drink back towards himself again. “Well, now you’re cut off.”

“No!” you pout as he swallows down the two fingers he’d poured you and sets the glass back on the bar. “But I’m serious!”

“You’re drunk.”

“I can be both,” you shoot back petulantly, and he gives you a sidelong, almost tired look. He’s leaning on the bar now, the position bringing the two of you closer together. You study the greying whiskers around his muzzle, the sweet little hearts above his brows, and your tone softens. “D’you think I would lie to you?”

“This is hell, doll,” he replies softly, a self-deprecating tilt to his lips. “Everybody lies.”

Your brow furrows, and maybe it’s the bourbon that makes you do it, or maybe it’s the soft warmth in his eyes, or the way they burn into yours. Maybe it’s way he’s kept you company without complaint all night. Or maybe it’s just… him, but you lean forward over the bar and press your lips to his cheek in a soft, chaste kiss.

Husk lets out a quiet mrrp! at the touch, and you exhale your nerves shakily as you withdraw slowly. “Believe me now?”

You meet Husk’s wide, surprised eyes for a second before you suddenly feel his hand on the back of your neck and you’re pulled into a crushing kiss.

[devotedfem]

∞ Angel

Synopsis: You always felt protected by your sweet guardian Angel, the issue was, that Seokjin wasn't as pure as you think. Not when you made him fall from grace.

K. Seokjin x f. reader

Genre: guardian angel au | yander-ish

Tags: angel Seokjin, overprotectiveness, sassy Seokjin, captivity, fluff if you squint, yander-ish, angel turning demon.

Patreon for extra content

From the series; otherworldly.

Navigation Masterlist.

The first time you saw him you were 7. You opened your tired sleepy eyes and watch Seokjin with curiosity, getting out of your bed to walk towards him, he widened his eyes with shock at your little steps coming to him near the window.

“Why do you always follow me, mister?” You frowned and pouted your lips, crossing your arms.

“You can see me?” He stared down at you with lifted brows. This shouldn’t happen.

You hummed nodding, smiling big at him, and inviting him to your room to play with you until you fell asleep.

Back then you were so smart, you noticed you were the only one that could watch him. So it became your little secret, because who would believe you if you say you can see your guardian angel and talk to him. You don’t want to look crazy so you never tell anyone.

You only talk back to Seokjin when you two are alone.

And years passed, he became literally your best friend. You grow fond of Seokjin, of his dramas, his sassiness and his protectiveness towards you. Always looking over you like a hawk, not letting anything hurt you. And you knew that guardian angels do that, but sometimes it feels that Seokjin is being a little bit extreme.

“Seokjin come on, it’s just a college party. Stop being so dramatic,” you said rolling your eyes.

You never go to parties because of him, at first you obey Seokjin when he said that there’s a lot of dangers out there, but then you got tired of his attempts of overprotecting you.

You’re an adult now, you should go out and see the world. It was Seokjin’s job to not let anything happen to you anyway. Also, you weren’t stupid, you know what’s dangerous and what it’s not.

“Excuse me,” he gasped offended, floating towards you, “you’re not going to that party, missy. You don’t know how dangerous those parties are, there are a lot of bad things that could happen to you. So don’t be ungrateful when I’m trying to protect you,” he said in a low warning, standing in front of you and staring down at you with his darkening gaze.

You gulped feeling overwhelmed, he sometimes doesn’t act like an angel at all.

“Oh my god! Let me live my life! If something bad happen to me so it be, let me experience those things like normal people do. You have nothing to worry about, please!” you shouted, running your hands through your hair in exasperation.

Seokjin pressed his lips together into a thin line. His blank gaze woke chills on you. You never saw him this serious before.

“You are mine to protect, whether you like it or not. And if I say you won’t go to that party, you won’t,” he growled close your face, gripping your shoulders and making you flinch with genuine worry and fear.

Who does he think he is?

You wiggle away from his grip, with flames of fury rising to your chest.

“I’ll go,” you challenged him with your chin up, turning around towards your door ready to go to that party.

And suddenly, the temperature of the room dropped, freezing you.

Seokjin turned you around roughly, and your lips parted with surprise at the sight of him dropping to the floor for the first time. His feets touching the floor, and his tall frame towered over you.

You watch with deep horror how his wings turned pitch black. You tremble with fear, trying to step back from him but he didn’t let you, he snarled and gripped you near his chest. You watched how his big black wings wrapped you two, darkening your world.

You whimpered with fear, clinging to Seokjin’s body because even though he’s the cause of your fear, he’s your safe place. The one you run to when you’re scared.

He shushed you sweetly, hugging you tightly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you with me to a place where nothing will ever hurt you.” He promised against your ear, his voice sounding darker than before.

And he did take you down with him. Down, down and down. A place where you can’t see anything but him.

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison

[mournings-stars]

Hello hello! I’d like to request some platonic into romantic headcannons on an Alastor x fallen ex-exorcist/exterminator reader please :>

Small background: Reader fell for whatever reason and maybe a few days to a week (or even months-) afterward they end up striking a deal with Alastor, where they’ll be under his protection (because as skilled as they are it wouldn’t matter much with the entirety of hell on their ass) but he gets a pretty good portion of their power in return or maybe something else that you think Alastor would take.

Gender neutral reader pls

I’ve only read one fic or two with this concept and I am on my hands and knees for more lol

If you prefer a different writing format or feel this is too specific or OC-ish please please please feel free to change anything! I’m not very picky ^^

Thank you for your time and have a good day/night!

okay i LOVE this concept — i think it be the slowest fucking burn in the world tho like

you were never one of adam’s favorites, as you had the tendency to spare demons who seem harmless, but covered it nearly everytime

during this last extermination, however, he was trying to catch you fucking up the plan, so the minute you skipped over someone, he had lute launch her weapon at you

i doubt he’d let her kill you or anything, but he definitely just left you there for the demons to finish off, probably pinned to the ground with lute’s spear in your wing or something before he called all the other exorcists back (and he made sure to leave your halo so even if you did change clothes people knew what you were)

luckily (not really) you’d be in cannibal town, so before anyone could get to you, alastor’s probably just walking around like nothings happening (LMAO) and sees you

i doubt he’d make it known he saw you, like he’d definitely keep humming merrily down the street until he saw you struggling to get away from him as quickly as possible and tearing your wing even more

“my, my, let’s calm down, shall we?” he’d laugh and take the spear out of your wing. “isn’t that better, little bird?” but he’d say that while literally pointing the spear at you so don’t feel too safe

you’d definitely get defensive and shoot into the air with your weapon, ready to kill, and i think after seeing you still attempting to fly with that damaged of a wing (like its fucked up), he’d be impressed enough to drop the spear he had with a very big grin

“you’d better hide, little bird”

and you’d take his warning to fly off, quickly snatching lute’s weapon with yours in case you needed to defend yourself

he would literally just smile and watch you leave before continuing to hum and walk down the street

it’d probably be like a solid three days of hiding and having to fight for your life before the damage to your wing really messed with you and you had to force yourself to find a good hiding place

maybe you see charlie on the news and notice that no one seems to want to go to her hotel, so you force yourself to fly all the way there like a week after her horrible interview (ep 1) and practically collapse at the front door

of course you recognize vaggie and of course you practically run over and hug her despite the spear pointed at you… and of course that means vaggie either may or may not have to confess depending on if you pick up that no one knows or not (off the concept but im sparing chaggie heartbreak)

“who the fuck is this?” would be the first thing you hear from a spider demon and you’d have to explain what you were and hope they didn’t kill you — which, duh, charlie wouldn’t that let happen

“hello again, little bird,” would make everyone shut up because… how does alastor know you??? of course, he doesn’t answer their questions, just says hello and moves on like it’s all normal

your first day would totally be catching up with vaggie, probably breaking down because you needed to get back to heaven and had no way there

i think exorcists probably have a little bit of angelic power, but they probably can’t create portals without that power being given to them or something which means you have no way home and no where to go

vaggie and charlie of course tell you to stay, but once anyone shows up they’ll know you’re here and all of hell would be coming to the hotel to try and get to you — and you didn’t want to ruin what they had going (even if it was small you thought it was a great idea) so they probably give you a change of clothes, something more hellish, and tell you to stay until you have somewhere else to go

that would probably give alastor the perfect opportunity to talk to you privately and offer his protection

you wouldn’t take his offer at first, but once pentious shows up and the overlords somehow find out that charlie is hiding an angel in her hotel (vox and his stupid drones) you dont really have a choice

i dont think he’d ask for any power in return, but i do think you’d owe him a favor each time he has to protect you

vox would probably give subtle hints in all the programs he runs, so alastor would have to protect you very often

that meant if he ordered you to get rid of someone, you did it — whether that meant by the snap of your fingers with holy light (which they could potentially survive or respawn from) or killing them with your exorcist weapon was totally up to him sometimes, he just asked that you create a bouquet of flowers for his room

usually the people he had you “take care of” were repulsive enough, and you never minded creating things with your abilities, so you agreed to what he asked with ease

it’d be a little time before who he instructed you to “take care of” slowly shifted to anyone who wronged you

of course, he’d still protect you, but if he didn’t own their soul and he didnt have an angelic weapon, he couldn’t ensure that they wouldn’t come back, so he asked you, “do you think they’ll come back for you, little bird?” if you were unsure, or knew it was likely they’d come back for the person that ended up being the reason they had to go through the painful process of respawning, he’d tell you to just kill them

it’d probably come to a point where he stopped asking for favors, made sure you were alright, and told you to focus on what you needed to do while he “did his job”

i think eventually you’d find a place you think could be safe and once your wing is totally healed up and alright you’d say your goodbyes even though you weren’t that close with anyone but vaggie (also i feel like niffty would be down to talk to u about her bug battles or some shit)

anyway, when you go to say bye to alastor, he definitely cashes in his favor with a simple “hmm, no” cus he sees no reason for you to leave??? like so what everyone else’s lives are in danger by you being here… you’re safer here

so you’d stay, and it’d definitely make charlie happy because if she can get an angel back to heaven that’d prove she could actually do this

you’d be pissed at alastor for a while, but slowly, it seemed like demons understood that by coming for you, they were fucking with the radio demon (and we all know how that goes) so after a few months you were finally left alone

in that time you’d totally help spruce up the hotel while slowly forgetting why you wanted to go back

but every once in a while you’d have a very prolonged sadness about the situation… heaven was your home after all, and even if you liked the hotel, you could never leave because the minute you stepped outside, there was a line for your head — you were trapped there (like a bird in a cage — hence the nickname)

i think even though everyone likes having you there, vaggie would eventually bring up lucifer (like he can literally open a portal…)

but immediately alastor is not fucking having it and he cashes in another one of his pent up favors, saying that getting back to heaven through a fallen angel was the dumbest thing you could do if you wanted it to look like you were the one wronged in this situation (he has a point i fear)

i think this is where you kind of accept that you’re not going home and maybe just give up because 1. you can’t go to the heaven embassy since you’d just be met with adam and 2. the only person that could get you contact wasn’t a good option

i think now would be when alastor recognizes how much you want to go home and finds himself feeling bad?? for keeping you, but he just wants you to get home safely and surely

still, once he sees that you literally wont leave your room and have contemplated taking your own halo he compromises to let you try going to the heaven embassy to see if you could get a meeting with anyone but adam

you said it wasn’t possible, but he insisted “i can’t have you looking so upset all the time, birdie” he’d say while using his hand to squish your cheeks into a smile just to make you laugh

so you’d go — i think you’d totally get there safely but once demons see an exorcist angel coming out of the heaven embassy, you have to fight the minute you step out of the building

you can 100% see holy light from the hotel, so the minute alastor sees a golden beam he’s out the door

you can handle your own, so you fought them off, but i’d imagine you get injured and that’s what really makes alastor realize he’s falling for you cus he’s seething

even just a minuscule amount of golden blood on you had him tearing apart any demon who even looked like they’d been near you

i hate to say it but i don’t think this would be a happy ending — reader loves heaven even though they hate being an exorcist and alastor knows that so he’d definitely keep his feelings hidden and if you showed any signs of feelings for him he’d be terrified because an angel falling, literally falling because thats what would happen to you, for someone like him would never get you back home

obviously it’d come to a point where he doesn’t want you to leave, but at the same time, he’d never keep you

if i did end up writing an actual fic of this it’d probably end on a bit of a cliffhanger ex. reader getting accepted back and being hesitant with alastor’s last favor just him saying, “if you want to stay for anyone, don’t,” and letting you decide whether or not to go back

OR reader being accepted back but still having to be an exorcist, so the next time they see alastor is the finale where adam would 100% put them against him

[lostgirlmuseum]

Give Me A Sign

Made with photos from Pinterest ^

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky asks the universe for a reason to live. The universe delivers you.

Warnings: HUGE WARNING, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable! Heavy suicidal ideation, but happy ending. Please be very careful in considering if this is triggering for you. It won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t read, your mental health and safety comes first.

A/N: I’m really sorry if this isn’t great, I wanted to do more but I kept getting stuck, and tbh I just want to post it as is instead of stress about it.

(Dividers from @saradika)

The air was unusually crisp the night Bucky snuck into the gardens of Cornelia Park. He had a faint memory of visiting once, in another century, with Steve. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Steve is dead. Bucky feels the weight of his entire history on his scarred shoulders. He feels out of place in such a green and flourishing area of flora. It’s wrong for him to be among such a place of peace and beauty, he finds it almost funny. Almost. 

He followed the path of lavenders into the private area of the park, surrounded by tall hedges. At the center stood an old stone statue, one he remembered from the last time he visited. Only now it looked much more worn and weathered. The statue was of an angel, a woman with wings. Her eyes were kind, her features soft, despite the stone. She held her arms out, one hand holding a lantern, the other beckoning him to hold. Instead, Bucky sat on the bench in front of her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, apologizing for his very presence. He dropped his head into his hands.

And then he started crying. And his cries evolved to sobbing. He let himself cry, a privilege he rarely allowed himself. He let the tears flow, and they didn’t stop for what felt like hours. After forcing himself to pull himself together, he wiped his final tears from his cheeks and looked up to the black sky.

“Give me a sign, God.” His voice wavered.

“If you’re real, give me a sign to keep going. I’ve been at this a really long time. Just gimme— gimme a sign to keep going. That it will be worth it. Because life feels pretty damn bleak. And I know I should keep going, but I…”

The words wouldn’t come.

“I… fuck.” He looked back down at his hands. He thought about how much he hated those hands. He thought about how he wished he could wash the memories from his head like he does the blood from his palms, and how he wished he wasn’t Bucky Barnes. He thought about how he wished he had died at the bottom of that cliff, and how everyone would be better off if—

“Hello?”

A small voice shook him from his thoughts. He hadn’t even heard someone approach. But there you were, standing in the entrance of the hedge garden.

“Oh, hi,” you smiled, once you saw him. At least he thinks you smiled. It was hard for him to see you in the shadows. 

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized, once he realized he hadn’t said anything yet. He had just stared. He looked away from you and back at his lap.

“No need to be sorry,” you said, walking up to the bench he sat on, “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” 

He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say. He too thought he was the only person there.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” You kindly asked, wrapping your white cardigan a bit tighter. 

That was when he looked up and saw your face in the light of the lantern for the first time. The first thing he thought was that you looked like you belonged there in the garden, unlike him. You could replace the angel statue, and its meaning would stay the same. 

“Go ahead,” he simply said. Although what he really thought was to warn you. Are you sure you want to sit next to him?

You took your place on the bench silently. Neither of you spoke for the first couple minutes. Bucky tried to focus on the sound of crickets, and the lack of traffic. 

He wasn’t sure why he stayed. If anything, his first thought should be to get up, walk away, escape. But he didn’t.

“My name is Y/N.” You softly said.

Stunned by your confession, he let his guard down.

“Bucky.” He half whispered back.

You simply hummed in response.

He could sense your gaze on him. It wasn’t malicious or judgemental; it felt curious and gentle. 

“Are you okay?”

His throat started to constrict again. He didn’t like that question, because he didn’t like the answer. He knows he’s not okay. But he doesn’t know how to say it. After struggling for a response for many seconds, he conceded to shaking his head softly. No.

“I hope it gets easier soon.” 

He felt the dam begin to break again. 

“It will get better someday,” you continued, “maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, or month, but someday it will get better.”

“How can you be so sure?” He choked.

“Life is like a pendulum, have you ever heard that before?”

“No.”

“Well, it is. Right now you’re swinging into the bad, but eventually you’re gonna swing right back into the good. It’s just physics. And it sucks in a way, because what’s the point of swinging into the light if it’s just gonna cast that shadow you’ll fall back into? But it’s also comforting to me, because I know as long as I keep pushing, I’ll end up on the other side.”

Bucky let your words ring in his ears. He didn’t know why he felt the urge to open up to you, but he did.

“I just keep asking myself why should I stay?”

“The trick is to find a new reason when you can. I think of one everyday.”

“What’s yours?” 

“Today?” You sighed and looked up at the stars. “I want to see the next snow.”

“That won’t be for months,” he said.

“Guess I’ll have to stick around then.” You gave a knowing smile.

“What should mine be?”

He knew there should be a million things, but they were all just out of reach of his mind.

“That’s up to you.”

Bucky didn’t say it, but he quickly came up with his reason to stay.

You. 

He told himself that he had to see you again.

Bucky went back the next night. And the next. And he kept going back, because you met him every night for a week until you finally asked him if he wanted to meet you for lunch. That was the start of your relationship. Soon enough Sam started asking where Bucky had gone so often. He wasn’t in his room all day anymore, and he seemed lighter. He wasn’t ‘fixed’, obviously, but he was better. It started to get easier to breathe. 

The pendulum had begun to swing in Bucky’s favor, and it stayed that way for months. He still had his days, as did you, but you were happy together. You supported each other. 

And then came a very tough week.

The anniversary of Steve’s death. 

The wound had reopened, and Bucky spiraled. He was a mess, a total mess, and you were there to comfort him. 

But your kindness reminded him of Steve, and how he wasn’t enough for him. If Bucky was good enough for Steve, he wouldn’t have left, right? 

Although Bucky knew you wouldn’t leave him. That was the problem. He was an anchor, and you held on. 

For your own good, he convinced himself he had to let go, if you wouldn’t.

The absence of warmth next to you woke you up. 

“Bucky?” You whispered. The clock blinked 4:13 A.M. 

No reply. You figured maybe he was sleeping on the couch, so you carefully sat up and waited a couple seconds before letting your bare feet touch the cold ground. Pulling your robe on from where it had fallen on the floor, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and padded over to the living room.

It was dark, and your eyes were still adjusting, but you could tell that he wasn’t there. You felt the rise of panic in your chest just before you spotted him standing on the balcony. 

He didn’t turn around to look at you as the door slid open and shut. He remained staring over the ledge at some unknown point.

“Hey, honey,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, as you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around him, giving him a big hug.

You hear his whimper before you feel his body shake.

“Y/N, I—”

“What’s wrong honey?” You quickly let go, turning him to face you. You notice his puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. His cheeks were rosy; you could tell he had been crying for a while.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t look you in the eyes.

“Sorry for what?” 

“I’m sorry for everything.” He starts. “I’m too much. I don’t deserve you, you deserve someone easier. Someone better, someone— someone good.”

“But I love you, and you are good. Bucky, where is this coming from?” The concern was thick in your voice. Sure, he had been a little down lately, but nothing alerted you to this level of distress.

“Sweetheart, all I do is bring hardship into your life. You deserve to live,” he looks into your eyes earnestly, “I know I shackle you to me. I know you give up things to be with me. But you don’t have to anymore. I’m letting you free.”

You hold back a shiver.

“What are you talking about? I want to be with you. You’re scaring me.”

“It’s not fair that I’ve lived this long, and it’s not fair that I’m dragging you down with me. I’m a fucking burden, Y/N. At first to Steve, then Sam, and now you. I can’t keep adding to the list of lives I ruin.”

“Honey, listen to me. I need you to take a deep breath.” You place your hand on his bicep, and try to speak with an appropriate mix of confidence and compassion.

“I’m doing it now!” He shakes his head vigorously, wiping away his tears as if evidence that he’s stopped crying will convince you to go. “You should be sleeping, please go back to sleep. You shouldn’t have to watch over me and make me feel better.”

“How long have you been feeling this way?” You whisper, fearing that if you spoke any louder your voice would break with your heart.

He took a while to answer, biting his lip and looking around before finally responding.

“Do you remember when we first met? In the garden?” He looks at you, eyebrows drawn. As if you could actually forget. You nod.

“I wanted to—” his voice breaks and he looks down— “I went… I was thinking about—” it cracks again, and his throat is constricting itself around the words he can’t say. “I was thinking I was really going to do it. I had basically decided. And then right as I was asking God for one more chance, one reason to stay alive—you appeared. I thought God sent me an Angel. A real Angel.” His eyes sparkle before dimming again. “I tarnish you. You waste your goodness on me, and the world needs it more.”

You don’t like where this is going. You know you need to reel him back in, and fast.

“Look at me, Bucky Barnes. Look at me.” You grab his face firmly and make sure he’s seeing you.

“I’m a burden.” He crumbles.

“Then be my burden!” You cry. “I want you to be my burden. Maybe without you, my life would be ‘easier.’ But I don’t want it to be if it means a life without you.” You search his blue watery eyes, wiping a tear that starts to leak from one. “I don’t fucking choose ‘easier.’ I choose you, Bucky. My choice is to be with the love of my life. And if that means skipping a couple hours of sleep to comfort you, and staying in on weekends, and crying with you, that doesn’t change the fact that I am the luckiest person on Earth. This is my choice too, Bucky. Do you hear me?” You place your hands on both of his arms.

He closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath, and nods.

“I choose you.” 

He nods again, and bites his bottom lip.

“I choose you.” You repeat, not once looking away from him.

He whimpers.

“Say it. Can you say it, please?” You don’t want to push him, but you need to know that your point has been made clear.

“You choose me.” He whispers, before falling into your embrace, and tucking his head into your neck.

“I do. I really do.” You say, holding back your own tears as you rub his back.

“I’m sorry.”

You know telling him he has nothing to be sorry for won’t work, so you instead answer by agreeing. 

“Me too. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way. I’m sorry you struggle to see how much I need you, too. But we are going to be okay, okay?”

He sobs harder, holding you tighter. You feel his warm tears start to stain your shirt under the thin robe. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you hum.

“Don’t leave me,”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promise, bringing one hand up to the nape of his neck and start gently playing with his hair. “Are you ready to go back inside? Do you want to lay down with me?”

Without pulling away from you, he nods. You wait for him to let go of you before going to grab his hand and leading him to the bed, but he stops you. Instead of letting you show him the way, he decides to pick you up bridal style and carry you to your room, knowing he couldn’t wait until laying down to have your body pressed against his. 

Once you were both settled under the cozy blankets, your bodies facing each other, his head on your chest and your hand rubbing his back in circular motions, he spoke drowsily, exhausted from his breakdown.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

“And I love you,” You cooed, placing a small kiss on his forehead before drifting off into your dreamless sleeps.

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I know life can be a fucking shit show, but please stay alive. If you know someone who is struggling, consider reaching out to them. And if you yourself are struggling, please reach out to someone. And if you feel like there is no one to talk to, my asks/dms are open. You are not alone.

I don’t want anyone to read this fic and their takeaway is that if they have no partner, they are on their own. I choose you. Do you hear me? I choose you, and I implore you to choose yourself. Stay alive for yourself. Be spiteful against your depression. And if you’re one of those people who can’t help but say “I hate you,” to the mirror, and feel like you mean it, know that there is hope for you too. Because I was once that person. And with help, and time, I am able to say that I don’t hate myself. I can look in the mirror and appreciate who I am. Of course I still have my moments, but my point is that if you told me when I was at my lowest, that I’d one day be able to say “I love you” to the mirror without bursting out in tears, I’d call you a liar. 

(Sorry for making this A/N so long, hopefully someone can find comfort in it. I’m still here. And you should be too.)

[peachhcs]

macklin definitely invited the to the next game and he plays so well everyone’s like why is mack playing so hard ….. they don’t find out for a while. mack rushed out after the game to find her and no one saw them together

this is kind of short i’m sorry 😵‍💫 but i think it’s so funny mack would just disappear after games and the guys would be so confused

au masterlist

macklin flew across the ice after the puck. the fans in the sap center were on their feet cheering the rookie on as he fought his stick through the guys of the detroit red wings. the younger player was on fire tonight, making two goals already in the first period. not that anyone was complaining, but they wondered what the boy drank or ate earlier to make him play like he was. 

"what's up with him?" eklund leaned over to where will was on the bench. 

"what do you mean?" will wondered, eyes on the game waiting to get called in. 

"i'm not complaining, but celly has been going ham tonight," eklund chuckled and bordeleau heard the two talking, popping himself into the conversation.

"dude, he's been on fire. what'd he drink earlier?" the older player laughed and will didn't have an answer for them nor did he really see a huge difference in his friend's performance. he was just playing like he usually did. 

"i have no idea. he's always this good?" will raised his eyebrow. 

"i mean yeah, but if i didn't know any better, it feels like there's someone special watching him tonight," thomas smirked and then the older guys dropped the conversation before will could respond. 

he became puzzled for a second, thinking back to a few weeks ago when macklin was constantly hiding his phone from him. he was still doing that, but will just sort of let it go knowing mack would never tell him. after hearing eklund and bordeleau talk about it though, will started wondering if what they were saying could have any truth behind it. the blonde glanced behind him for a quick second like he'd see someone in the stands that wound just stand out to him but with the hundreds of fans in the arena, they all looked the same to him. no one was standing out.

unbeknownst to will, blaire was seated four rows up from the bench. she had on a simple sharks t-shirt mack gave to her for the night. she was focused on the game that she didn't see will look back in her direction briefly. she was impressed with mack's two goals so far, a wide grin on her features. he had definitely grown a lot since they were in chicago and shattuck. 

the brunette skated across the ice towards the goal, missing it by just an inch when he passed to his teammate. the fans cheered nonetheless, the whole arena buzzing with excitement. blaire had never been to a hockey game as loud as this one, but she was happy seeing all of these fans cheer her rookie on. 

mack's gaze would occasionally glance towards the stands where blaire was. a smile always found its way to his lips seeing her cheering him on like old times. he also made sure she wouldn't be sitting next to any weirdos that would pester her and the boy still looked up there to make sure she was doing alright. she was content in her seat next to a mom and her kids and two teenage girls on her other side. mack badly wanted to give her a shirt with his name across the back but they hadn't even gotten that far yet, so he had to live with just a plain sharks shirt. 

when the game finished mack met blaire around the back where no fans would see them or any of his teammates. the girl quickly smiled when he came out in his suit and freshly showered. 

"you played so well!" she beamed and the boy smiled. 

"thank you. thanks for coming too," they exchanged a quick hug.

"that was probably the most fun i've ever had a hockey game. i didn't realize how exciting it got in the arena. you'll have to bring me along again sometime," mack thought her smile was to die for. 

"i'm glad you had so much fun. do you wanna grab something to eat before i drop you off back at your dorm?" the brunette wondered mainly because he didn't want the night to be over just yet. blaire flushed, "yeah, i'd like that."

mack grinned and then quickly led then out of the arena before getting caught. by the time will and the rest of the players made it out, the brunette was long gone. 

"where'd our star of the night go?" toffoli looked around when the younger brunette was no where to be seen. 

"who knows. maybe he found some fan to hookup with," bordeleau joked.

"ha! i wouldn't put that past him," eklund chuckled too and will just rolled his eyes. he'd definitely know if mack was hooking up with some fan because mack was bad at keeping secrets and was always telling will about something he learned during the day. 

"thanks for that, bordeleau. we'll catch up with him tomorrow at practice," tyler determined and the others agreed. everyone was pretty tired and wanted to head home knowing they had morning skate tomorrow. 

no one would figure out where mack would disappear to after games until a lot of months later.

[danikamariewrites]

Hey so I saw your Cassian x hyperfem reader and it was just muah! Chef's kiss! Anyway I was wondering if you could do a Cassian x goth or alt reader. Like she loves black and extreme makeup and Halloween or the prithian equivalent. I don't see alot of characters that dress like me and I just wonder how they would take them?

Goth girlfriend headcanon

Cassian x reader

Notes: thank you anon! I love a good goth aesthetic, I hope you like it ♥️

Warnings: none

You met Cassian at Rita’s and he was enamored by your unique look

Your dark dress was flattering, your makeup was nothing like he’d ever seen before. Cassian had only ever paid attention to Mor’s makeup over the centuries so this was different

I’m talkin baby bangs, black hair, big eyeliner and dark eyeshadow, drawn on bottom lashes, lost of silver jewelry, lost of rings and necklaces, long black nails, black clothes, ripped tights, platform boots, and all black clothes

When Cassian approached you, you were a little hesitant. He isn’t usually your type but he was so shy and cute and tongue tied when he tried a bad pick up line on you

You had such a serious face that when you laughed and smiled up at him Cassian stopped breathing

On your first date you didn’t tone down your style. Why would you change for anyone?

When your style is toned down think Morticia Addams

Cassian picked you up for that first date and you expected him to not like it. When you opened the door his jaw dropped at the off the shoulder black velvet dress you were wearing. It clung to your curves in all the right places. And your makeup was pure artistry, he couldn’t believe you did it every day

Whenever you experiment with your makeup Cassian is always so supportive

You want to shave your eyebrows and draw them on? Go for it! You want to do wild eyeliner wings? Cassian will literally hold all your eyeliners for you and sit with you while you experiment

Cass loves to watch you do your makeup. Your concentrated face is just so cute

The first time Cass saw you without your makeup it was kind of a shock. He’s just so used to all the cosmetics covering/accentuating your features. Seeing your bare face made him a little speechless. It was the first time you were seeping over and only crazy people sleep with their makeup on

Cass watched you walk all the way from the bathroom to the bed, not sure what to say. “I know, I know,” you say a little defeated. “Go ahead and say it, I look odd without it.” You look Cassian dead in the eyes not wanting to show that you’re a little insecure. “You look just as beautiful,” he breathes out. Your eyes go wide at his confession. You climb onto his lap and hug Cass super tight

Moving in with Cass you have a bunch of dark decor from your apartment

Little skulls, LOTS of candles, black blankets, antique lamps and mirrors are spread around the house

The sight of your over the top platform boots next to his boots by the door makes him swoon. It shows your difference in aesthetics but your his

Sometimes you get odd looks from others while walking around Velaris

People think you’re a witch or too odd to be with the General and High Lord’s best friend

Cassian gets angry when he sees someone scowl at you but you’ve learned to brush it off. People just don’t get your style and that’s ok

Colorful outfits are rare for you

For Starfall you found a dark blue shimmery dress in town and you fell in love with it

Cassian thinks anything looks good on you and doesn’t care if you wear black or neon orange. But when he sees you in that shimmering gown his knees go weak

Hallows Eve is a semi dying holiday (Halloween is lowkey dying and I feel like no one trick-or-treats anymore) but still your favorite

Dressing up as anything you want, craving pumpkins, scary stories! What is there not to love! Not to mention all the sweet treats you can make

Cass and the IC don’t celebrate Hallows Eve but once you start dating he demands that it happens

Carving pumpkins together is a tradition Cassian wouldn’t miss for the world. He loves picking out the biggest pumpkin he can find and then regrets it when he has to clean it out

You always make fun of him for that, “I tell you every year, there’s going to be a lot of guts and you say you don’t care.”

Making candy apples is another favorite tradition for you two

Cassian’s first attempt was so bad, he burnt the apple and had no idea how it even happened. You couldn’t stop laughing because in your eyes that is an impossible thing to do

When Nyx is old enough and the holiday has become more popular in Velaris the IC starts dressing up

The first year Feyre didn’t know what to do for his costume so she came to you for help

You made Nyx the scariest looking zombie ever seen. Your makeup skills were put to the test with this one and when you were done Feyre and Rhys barley recognized their son

Nyx was so happy with how gross and scary he looked he couldn’t stop staring at himself in the mirror and giggling, “I love it auntie y/n! Can you do my costume every year?”

You never forced Cassian into a couples costume unless he asked. You liked to do your own thing and went all out with your costume

The year you got engaged Cassian was adamant about a couples costume so of course you hand made them and of course you two looked hot as fuck

You made sure Cassian was showing off an appropriate amount of skin and muscle and he let you do his makeup

[thereadinggremlin]

Guarded Hearts pt 3

Summary: You find out Azriels your mate but you start getting the could shoulder from him after he returns from a mission.

Authors Note- Ok. I did it. Finally finished my first ACOTAR fanfic. I have ideas for more but if anyone has some send them my way. Anyways. Enjoy

As the shadow dissapeared and you heard Rhys’s voice you knew you were out of time. You started to grab your stuff for a quick getaway, not that you could winnow but you could fly pretty fast. Figuring he’d be there any minute you decided that leaving out the back door would give you a few minute head start. That idea was shattered as he showed up less than 30 feet away from you, for a moment you just stood there looking at him and then you shot to the skies, your stuff be damned.

You had some idea of where you were going but what you really needed was to just get away from him. Everything you were feeling was too much. Why would he send his shadows after you, he didn’t care, he made that evident in the way that he has ignored you for the last month. You had been up here for awhile before he probably even realized that you weren’t around.

You spent one spare second to look behind you and there he was hot on your heels and trying to catch up to you and then you felt a tug. You didn’t know your sheilds were down for that long unless…

You shit straight up knowing he would follow, you stopped and waited, as he appeared tou yelled to him “How long?” The hot tears pooling in your eyes.

He just stared at you, not saying anything, when you focused on the bond you felt a mix of sadness and happiness and knew that these were not your feelings.

“I will let you know when I’m ready, if you ask anyone or send your shadows after me, you will regret it.” You said as you flew away and left him there in the cold air with nothing but the feeling of betrayal and hurt coursing through the bond.

He didn’t know what to do. After you left he returned to the cabin and looked around, your books and other belongings still scattered all over the place. He started gathering all of them up to take them back home, he knew you wouldn’t return here since he found you but he did think that having them in your room at the house of wind would be better.

In your collection of books he found a notebook, it seemed like a journal or diary and it seemed you had started it just before you apparently left home. He dropped onto the couch to start reading and he closed off the bond again, he didn't want you to know he was snooping and he was too scared that if he didn’t guard himself all his feelings would go down the bond to you.

As he started to read, his heart fell into his stomach. He didn’t realize that his actions had hurt you so much, he thought he was protecting you. He didn’t want to rush you into the bond but apparently all he did was push you away.

He got halfway through the notebook when he saw one of your few entries since you arrived at the cabin

“Ive been at the cabin for a while and everyone’s left me alone, which is good, but I can’t help to think of Azriel has noticed if I left or not. Regardless of how he’s treated me recently I still love him, I can’t help but love him and right now, I don’t know if I like how I feel about it. I know he’s my mate but I can’t keep taking the heartbreak.”

He dropped the notebook. You knew. You knew and you never told him. He couldn’t get mad because he had known for a long time too. He was cursing himself from guarding the bond for so long, he could have avoided this whole thing if he just stopped to talk to you. He picked up all of your stuff and returned to the house of wind, he needed to make a plan and try to get you to forgive him.

You flew until your wings ached, the lake you always loved was quiet and serene. You always came here when you needed to think it was a secret spot only you and one other knew of. You didn’t get much time to yourself before he showed up.

“So you wanna talk about it?” Cassian drawled out.

“Is there really any point” you stated flatly “And how did you know if even be here?”

“Well I was around when Azriel was questioning Rhys and when he left I knew if he found you this would be the place you’d escape to” he gave you a small smile “I’m surprised that you beat me here honestly, I thought you forgot about this place.”

“I could never. This place is so peaceful, I just haven’t had the time to fly out” you said with a sad smile. After bad missions you and Cassian would come here to let the steam out, fight, cry, or just sit there quiet. After he found out Nesta was his mate the two of you sat here on the waters edge for hours while he just sat there and thought about her.

“You know he loves you” Cassian said taking you out of your memories. Startled you just stared at him “yeah I figured you didn’t know, he’s loved you for a long time”

“He’s my mate.”

“I know.” She looked at him, surprise cascading across her face.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve known since it snapped in place for him. I picked up on the little changes and all the glances he passed your way. Dudes whipped.”

You were baffled. Azriel felt the same and knows of the bond. So many emotions were coursing through you and your one thought was to tug on that string of warmth that you’ve felt in your chest. When you tugged on the bond, you were created with nothing but cold and darkness.

“What if I messed it all up?” You ask your friend.

“I can guarantee that you didnt. Rhys has been threatening me to come back and get that man under control because he’s acting strange and his shadows are no where to be found.” He paused as he looked at you “Leta go home, you don’t have to talk to him about everything today but at least try to slowly let him in.”

All you responded with was a nod of your head. You didn’t know what you’d do but you decided that you’ll find out once you see him in person.

The flight back to the house of wind was a quiet one, you and Cassian landed in the balcony outside of the dinning room thinking nothing much would be going on. As you both started to walk in you noticed that all your favorite flowers were delicately decorating the dinning room, it wasn’t too much but there were little touches here and there. You froze as you hear the familiar footfall of a certain shadow singer, they stopped abruptly so you know he noticed you.

Before either of you could say a thing Cassian cleared his throat “So are you just gonna stare at each other or……”

“You better leave them alone or I’m gonna beat your ass during training tomorrow” you heard Nesta yell from the hallway. A small smile graced your face as Cassian shrugged and left the two of you.

“I’m sor-“

“I’m so sorry I have been an asshole that was never my intention, I don’t want to push you away” Azriel blurted cutting you off. “I didn’t want to pressure you into anything and I wanted you to make your own decisions, you’ve turned into such a strong female that I never wanted to dim that or make you feel less because I think you deserve the world”

He was talking so fast it took a minute for your brain to catch on to what he was saying. He’s noticed everything and remembered it, and liked you more because of what you accomplished.

“Take your shield off of the bond.” You stated flatly. You needed to know if what he was saying truly matched how he felt. “Take your shield off and then we can discuss it all.”

Within an instant you felt everything; love, worry, agony, hopefulness. He truly wanted this life with you. As you looked into his eyes they matched all the feelings you were feeling down the bond.

You slowly started approaching him, staying slow as to not scare him but he still stiffened his back not knowing what you were going to do. You stood right in front of him looking up at his eyes and feeling his breath mingle with yours, you were both breathing heavy with anticipation. You leaned up and kissed him on his cheek.

“There’s a lot we need to talk about” his eyes sank a little as you spoke “but I really want to figure this out with you. Just don’t keep anything hidden from me, you know you can just talk to me.” You finished with a smile on your face.

Azriel smiled instantly at your words and before you could process it he picked you up and spun you around. As he was holding you he leaned in and kissed you. You were very surprised at the immediate affection from him but you weren’t gonna fight it because you had been dreaming of this day since you met him.

As he set you down he pulled back and was about to apologize but then he noticed the blush on your cheeks that spread to your ears. “We can talk about everything and anything you want.” He said instead

“Oh really? Then how about you tell me how it went back at the camp I grew up in when you were there to settle things.” You asked with a mischievous look in your eyes.

“Ok anything but that” Azriel responded with a chuckle, and it was the most beautiful sound you ever heard.

Maybe you two could get over this and have a beautiful life together and by the cauldron you sure hoped so.

Tag list: @crazylokonugget @kalulakunundrum @mp-littlebit @hnyclover @nickishadow139 @isa1b2h3

[holdmymallowsweet]

Tooth for a Nose

Inspired by @alibasnur, I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I had fun writing it ❤️

Summary: Being the petty children that they are, Sebastian and the new fifth year get into a fist fight. Sort of.

Word count: 825

The three of them sat in the library one afternoon, her and Sebastian still full of adrenaline from Crossed Wands.

“What do muggles do, when they need to settle a disagreement?” Sebastian asked her suddenly, lowering his book. “Is there such a thing as muggle duelling?”

“Sebastian, if you don’t want to finish your essay, fine by me. But please be quiet, some of us are trying to work,” Ominis answered in her stead.

Ignoring him, as she usually did when she saw a chance to escape schoolwork, she put her quill down. “There is, actually. They use Pistols.”

“Pistols?”

She thought about it for a moment. “They’re like muggle wands that can only perform the killing curse.”

“Oh?” Sebastian leaned forward, intrigued. “Please elaborate.”

“Please do not,” Ominis said warningly.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Still, that’s a bit extreme isn’t it?”

“There’s always fist fights,” she mused. “Surely you know what a fist fight is?”

“Obviously, but it’s not like I’d ever find myself in a muggle brawl when I can use magic,” Sebastian drawled.

Humming conspiratorially, she leaned closer herself, until they were merely a few inches apart. “Between the two of us, who do you think would win in a fist fight?”

Sebastian burst out laughing, getting little droplets of spit on Ominis’ hand, who smacked him on the arm with his rolled up parchment in turn. The laughing stopped when Sebastian saw her offended expression. “Wait, are you serious?”

“You think I can’t take you on,” she said flatly, “because I’m a girl.”

Sebastian groaned and rolled his eyes dramatically. “No, of course not. I just think pummeling someone half my size isn’t very sporting.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means ‘drop it, please’,” Ominis chimed in.

Mouth open for a retort, she stopped briefly. “Wait, I don’t think that’s what he meant at all.”

Ominis sighed. “No, I mean it. Can the both of you please stop acting like children? I don’t feel like collecting anyone’s teeth off the ground while you’re on stretchers on the way to the hospital wing.”

“Hear that? Ominis doesn’t want to collect your teeth. Perhaps you should drop it.” Sebastian barely managed to contort his smug grin into a genial smile while patting her patronisingly on the head.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Or perhaps, you’re just afraid of losing to a girl.”

“Funny.”

“No, I understand,” she went on, pretending to feel sorry for him. “After all, I’m better than you at wizard duelling, of course you’d be worried. Not a good look, getting pummeled by someone half your size.”

Ominis buried his face in his hands.

Sebastian put his book aside, with a fair bit more force than necessary. “Don’t push me.”

“Oh, I’d never. After all, Ominis doesn’t want to collect your teeth.”

Ominis made an indiscernible, strangled noise as Sebastian jumped to his feet. “You know what- fine. You want to take this outside?”

“NO,” Ominis shouted.

“Absolutely, ” she said with the utmost conviction.

“...I can’t believe you really hit her,” Ominis said.

“I didn’t.” Sitting on one of the beds in the hospital wing, one hand holding onto his tooth while the other one massaged his injured cheek, Sebastian shot his friend a look of utter indignation. “I would never- how could you even think that? I pretended to, just to scare her a bit, but she was already trying to punch me and I tried to avoid her and then we… sort of fell into each other’s fists,” he finished lamely. 

On the bed next to him, she tried to make a noise of agreement, kind of, it was a bit difficult as she presently needed her mouth to breathe.

“And I look much worse than her anyway,” Sebastian added.

Ominis nudged her foot with his own. “Does he?”

She tried to give Sebastian an appraising look- again, that sort of thing was kind of hard when one had a giant woollen rag bunched up in the middle of one’s face to stop a violent nosebleed. “I don’ ‘now. Maybe?”

“Oh come off it, I definitely look worse than you, I’ve lost my tooth and everything.”

Her face split into a giant grin- which looked sort of disturbing, now that her blood was seeping through the rag and trickled down her face. “-‘ad means I won.” 

Leaning back on his chair, Ominis gave both of them a derisive snort.

“What, anything you’d like to add?” Sebastian snapped. 

Ominis raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but I doubt you’d want to hear it.”

“Oh? Please, humour me.”

She laid back in her bed, making a frustrated gurgling noise.

“Fine.” Ominis took a deep breath. “You two are the world’s most childish, irresponsible moonminds, and it’s rich of you to complain about your present circumstance, considering even I could see it coming.”

Sebastian sat in stunned silence. It didn’t last long, given that it was Sebastian. “Do you want to take it outside?”

[justawriterofstuff]

A silly little spell

(A/N: I have no regrets writing this. I only ask that minors do NOT read this. This is content made for a mature audience. I’ve been wondering how I was going to type this out but I’ll wing it as I go. Please enjoy ONLY IF YOU’RE 18 AND UP. MDNI!!!Reblogs to support my writing.)

(TW; Tentacles, penetration, oral play, breast play, female!reader, suction cups, sexual touching, degrading)

If you were to tell Jason that he was going to be turned into an octopus monster by a random god by the name of Circe, he’d tell you you’re crazy.

    But that’s exactly what happened, and now he’s been avoiding everyone and anyone to figure out how to fix himself. He tried tracking down Circe but even at night he can’t avoid civilians who panic and scream at the sight of him.

    He’s been off grid to BatFam, but it’s you that he has the hardest time being away from.

    Three weeks have passed since he last saw you, and Jason is getting restless. He misses touching you, holding you, and hearing you laugh. Now he knows how Killer Croc feels because no way does Jason want to be out in the public eye.

     Jason’s skin for one has turned into an angry pink, blemished with scales. His tentacles grow from the middle of his back and can reach any distance from him.

     And he must be in the water almost all the time.

    So where is he? In the lagoon on the outskirts of Gotham.

    It’s surprisingly one of the cleanest spots in Gotham. He swims for long periods of time, only coming up to his makeshift home to rest and eat. And even then, he can’t do that for too long, lest he dries out and itches.

     Jason thought he could make them dry off, and the tentacles would fall off him but then he was itchy and miserable, so now he must swim in the lagoon near Gotham.

      He can’t even go out and patrol.

      One night, as he’s swimming and trying to think of other places Circe disappeared off to, he hears someone approaching way too close to where he is. Ducking under the docks, he peeks when he sees the shadow of a person.

       The smog density isn’t as strong as in central Gotham, and Jason can properly see who it is.

       His heart drops down to his stomach as he sees you.

       “Fuck…” he mutters, panic making his tentacles move restlessly under the water.

         You step along the dock, goggles on your face.

         Fuckfuckfuck…

         Those are night vision goggles.

         Jason is about to dive as deep as he can when he hears you click on your comm.

        “Oracle, are you sure the report of the creature was spotted here? All I’m seeing it murky water.” You said, and for a moment, Jason is stunned to the sound of your voice.

          How long had it been since he’d seen you.

          As you nodded, and switched off from the comm, you pressed a button on your watch and a mouthpiece was formed from your helmet.

         You were going to dive down in the waters…

         “Wait!” Jason called out, getting in your line of sight. Surprise froze you, and you pushed a button on the side of your helmet.

           “Jason? This is where you’ve been the entire time?” you asked, hands on your hips as you stared down at him.

            “I…I had a good reason.” Jason replied, not wanting to step out of the waters so you could see.

            “What reason could that be? Are you hiding that tentacle creature that’s been scaring civilians?” you ask, confusion in your tone.

               No wonder you’d come out here then; you’d probably been sent out on a mission by Batman to find the creature that was wandering around Gotham.

              “No.” Jason whispered, his heart beating out of his chest.

               “Then why-“ she stops as gradually, Jason steps up from the waters, his tentacles flexing and shaking under your gaze.

                 When you take a step back, his heart breaks. But for some reason, you don’t run.

                “Who did this to you?” you ask instead, slipping the helmet off your head.

                 “Circe. She made me into this and now…I’ve been trying to track her done to undo this. She said a riddle that would break the spell, but I’m not like Bruce who would figure this out, or like Tim.” Jason replied, using his tentacles to climb up on to the docks.

                   “I thought you would have your legs, but that’s all tentacle too.” You murmur. “So, what’s the riddle?”

                    “Oh! Um, it goes like:

                    It equates to you, not me.

                  The person that can set you free.

                 Not father, not mother

               Nor sister or brother.

              The person that set can set you free

             Has said the numbers one, four, and three.” Jason finished, and for a moment, you look so confused and lost, his heart almost shatters.

              “And you remember it word for word?” you ask, and he nods, his tentacles brushing against your ankles. It feels weird, cold yet smooth.

               “Yes, and I’ve spent most of my time looking for Circe so I can strangle the answer-what are you doing?” Jason asks, as you trace one of his tentacles.

                “Not father, or mother, or sister, or brother…” you murmur, trying to piece the answer together. Again, you hold on to one of his tentacles, squeezing it a little as you think.

                 Jason’s not sure what to do. He has control of his tentacles of course, but it’s been a while since he’s seen you, and you’re wearing his favorite suit.

                 “I got it! It’s lover! Not sister nor mother, nor father or brother. It has to be someone outside of your family, which is lover!” you say so excited that your hold on his tentacle tightens.

                 Jason winces, a flush spreading down his face. He’s happy that part of the riddle was solved but apparently the tentacle you’re squeezing-

                “But what about the numbers one, four, and three?” you ask, dropping hold of him entirely. You pace, and Jason watches, trying not to touch you with his tentacles.

                 You sigh as you grab your phone from your back pocket, keying something in. Surprise colors your face, and you look up to Jason.

                “It’s not lover because of the person not being claimed as your family. It’s lover because the person should have said I love you in a romantic relationship.” You replied, and Jason blushes heavily.

                 “Why are you being shy about it now?” you ask.

                 “Because literally look at me.” He replies, and you do look at him, taking in the scaly pink skin of his, the tentacles that are crowded around him, moving and pulsing with life.

                  It’s kinda freaky but it doesn’t bother you.

                 “Jason, I’d be happy to kiss you.” You replied, making him blush even more.

To be continued [if enough reblogs are accounted for]…                 

[aquagirl1978]

Can i request Ellis Twilight with the prompt butterfly?

Thank you for the request

ellis twilight x reader | prompt: butterfly | word count: 750 | tags: mentions of blood and violence; a bit angsty

It was a perfect evening. The sky above was a painted canvas, shades of pale pink and muted purples blending together, highlighted by the last golden rays of the sun, as day shifted into night; an early autumn breeze kissed the air, a much needed reprieve from hot summer months. 

Except it wasn’t. There was nothing perfect about it.

You were walking hand in hand with Ellis, and the streets were quiet. Too quiet. Instead of providing a sense of calm one doesn’t get while living at Crown castle, the quiet was the perfect breeding ground for intrusive thoughts to invade your head. 

“Are you okay?” Ellis asked, his soft voice pulling you from your melancholy. Finching, you slowed your steps and tilted your face towards his. Ellis continued to speak, his voice still soft in the still air. “You haven’t been yourself since we left…”

His voice trailed off, allowing you to fill in the blanks in your head – the docks. 

“How can anyone…” You paused, then forced yourself to continue, the scene at the docks – and the smell of blood – still fresh in your head. “... be okay after witnessing that?”

The scene was grisly, more grisly than any scene you had ever witnessed before. The mission was supposed to be simple – well, simple was a relative word when compared to other Crown missions. Go in, scare some goons, get the information, and get out. With Jude taking charge and Ellis acting as his assistant, it should have been simple. 

You smelt the salty sea air before you saw the water, the waves crashing loudly against the restraining walls signaling that you were close. Jude was a few steps ahead, ready to warn you of any trouble ahead.

“What in blazes…. What’re ya doin’ here?”

Ellis stopped and bowed his head. “Ah, Jude, not again. Whatever happened to being quiet?” Ellis muttered to himself. He caught your gaze and tilted his head towards Jude’s voice. “Let’s go. Hopefully, I don’t have to save his ass again.”

“Lemme guess, Victor got all the information he needed and yer skippin’ straight to the execution.”

A light, melodic laugh filled the air. “That’s right.” 

You glanced over at Ellis. “William’s here?”

Ellis sighed. “I’m so sorry.” 

You didn’t have a chance to wonder why Ellis was apologizing; instead, you were distracted by a butterfly that slowly glided across your path, its large orange wings still easy to spot in the waning daylight. 

It must still be looking for a place to rest for the evening, you thought to yourself. There was a twinge in your heart as you watched the butterfly flapping its bright wings, fluttering in the sky. 

Knowing what would most likely happen, a part of you hoped it would find a more peaceful place than here at the dockyards.

“Let’s go,” Ellis whispered, tugging on your arm.

And like that, the butterfly was gone, off to find a place to sleep for the night. 

“Take this knife and slit your throat.”

Ellis pulled you into an embrace, his long arms wrapping around your waist, and placed a gentle kiss upon the crown of your head. “If I knew it was gonna happen like that, I would have never brought you tonight.”

Closing your eyes, you saw William’s face. His smile, despite having just murdered those men. The drops of blood splattered on his cheek. Blood that matched his eyes. Blood that wasn’t his.

“This is my life,” Ellis continued. “This is the darkness I live with every day. It’s a part of me. And sometimes I forget you’re not used to that part of my life.”

Nuzzling your face against his chest, the scent of freshly washed linen comforted you.

Ellis tilted your face with his thumb so that you were looking up at him. “Why don’t we get you a hand pie. I think the stand is still open.”

“It's going to take more than a hand pie to make me feel better,” you said with a small smile.

“I'll do anything to make you happy.”

That’s right, Ellis absolutely would. Taking his hand, you walked off together towards the stand. Ellis wouldn't be able to erase the events of tonight, but he was able to soothe you and make things easier. 

Not long ago, you felt like the butterfly, lost while searching for your place to rest. Glancing over to Ellis, his profile handsome against the darkening skies, you knew you finally found your place. 

Tagging: @redheadkittys @themiscarnival   @coral-relevium @cyberk1ee    @kookie-my-little-sunshine    

@ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer   @nightghoul381 @randonauticrap @xbalayage

@xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia

@lunaaka @ikesenwritings @sh0jun @natimiles @valkyyriia

@candiedcoffeedrops @lucyw260   @nightfoxqueen

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 13

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: This is more of a filler chapter before shit gets fucking wild in the next one. I'm telling you I'm so pumped for the next chapter ahhhhh! It's not super exciting but I hope you all enjoy it! If you're new here from The Prophecy... Hi!🥰🖤

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Mentions of under the mountain and what Eris did

Word Count: 5,338

Rhys POV: 

I had finally allowed myself to hope. 

The circumstances of which I had granted myself that hope was…well… unpleasant. I would never wish Feyre to be under duress for any reason, but it did bring her into my court for good. When Mor came back with her I had never felt so relieved. I wanted to say that I couldn’t believe that Tamlin would lock her up like that, but I would be lying to myself. 

It wasn’t the first time she had been to Velaris. Once I saw the state she was in at the wedding, too thin, too pale, I started calling in the bargain. I saw her improving dramatically since I started doing so, pink lining her cheeks, muscles building on her arms. She had yet to meet anyone but Mor. Y/n had been dying to meet my mate, but I didn’t want to overwhelm Feyre. She was still learning what it meant to be fae, still getting used to her new life, and still learning to trust me. 

“So you are both High Fae and Illyrian?” Feyre asks, messing with the leftover food on her plate. 

“Yes, my mother was Illyrian and my father was High Fae. That is why I can summon Illyrian wings when I want to.” I answered her question truthfully. I knew that no matter what I wanted to be honest with her, let her see every dark part of me and choose to love me anyways, I owed her that. 

“Were they mates?” she inquires further. 

“Yes they were,” I replied, secretly hanging on every word she said. I tried my best to act aloof, but when she was here? In my home? It was hard to keep my cool. 

“How do you know someone is your mate?” she queries and my heart drops. 

I know that she is talking about Tamlin in her own subtle way, wondering if the High Lord of Spring is her mate. 

“You don’t always know right away, take Kallias and Viviane, they didn’t know they were mates until they were married,” I explained to her, I watched her face lighten, no doubt thinking that there was still a chance for her and Tamlin. 

“I’ve never met a set of mates before,” she said with a hint of longing, like if she could just set eyes on a pair it might ease her mind.

“Would you like to?” My words slipped out before I could think of the implications of them. 

Her eyes flitted up in amusement and I swore I melted at her lighthearted gaze, “I would.” she said.

“My younger sister, y/n. She’s mates with my general, Cassian. We can go and see them if you would like.” I say thinking about how excited y/n will be to finally meet the cursebreaker.

“I would like that very much,” Feyre smiled. 

I stood and walked with Feyre to the edge of the property outside the townhouse. It wasn’t the first time I had flown with her, but I could still tell she was apprehensive of the height. I took the fastest route to The House of Wind and made sure to fly like I was holding my mothers china. Feyre was far from breakable, she was strong enough to withstand just about anything. But that didn’t mean I was going to be someone who challenged that strength, not like Tamlin did. When we arrived at the huge mansion I could feel the female's eyes glancing over the exterior in awe. 

“This is another one of my homes, but I tend to stay in the townhouse. My little sister and Cassian live here with Azriel.” I say opening the door for her. 

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, her eyes taking in every single detail.

I try to pry into y/n and Cassian’s mental shields but I’m met with nothing. They were here though, their scents lingered in the library we passed on the way to Cassian’s room. I knock on the door and I’m met with silence.

“Cassian? Y/n?” I call out hoping for some sort of answer but hear nothing once more. 

As Feyre looks at me expectantly I weigh my options, which would make my sister angrier? Waking her up to meet Feyre or not waking her up to meet Feyre?  I let out a shallow breath and chose the latter, opening the door to reveal a giant heap of limbs. 

“Oh I didn’t know they were asleep,” Feyre said, moving away. 

“Don’t worry about it, y/n will have my head if I don’t introduce you two,” I laugh walking into the dark room, Feyre trailing behind me.

When I approach the bed I can’t even see my little sister, her body covered entirely by Cassian’s wing. The only indication that she’s even there is her small hand peeking out from under it and a tendril of hair on the pillow.   

“I thought you said that Illyrians were protective of their wings?” Feyre whispered, clearly questioning why Cass’ wing was draped over y/n. 

“They are,” I whisper back. “But she’s his mate. He would rather have his wings shredded than have anything happen to her.” I say fondly. I had to admit, while I was still getting used to Cassian and my little sister being together, it was nice to not have to worry about her safety as much. Anyone who dared to harm her would have to face Cassian. Gods spare that poor fool. 

“Even in his sleep?” she asked in a hushed tone. 

“Especially in his sleep,” I laugh, moving to shake my sister's hand, trying to wake her. 

The second I grasp that small hand to shake it awake Cassian’s eyes fly open and the next thing I know there’s a dagger aimed at my throat and a murderous gaze thrown my way. 

“Easy Cass it’s just me,” I chuckle as I hear Feyre gasping and taking a step back. 

“Cauldron Rhys you scared the shit out of me,” Cassian sighed lowering the dagger, beside him my sister stirred. 

“Cass what’s going on?” she asked, her voice laced with sleep. 

“Nothing princess, it's just Rhys,” he answered, smoothing her hair out of her face. It was strange to see my war general so docile and domestic. 

“And Feyre Archeron,” I corrected as Feyre took a step further. “Why don’t you two wake up and meet us outside.” I laugh leading Feyre towards the door. 

Behind me I can hear Cass gently explaining to a very tired y/n what’s going on. 

y/n’s POV: 

“Do you think she saw me?” I ask frantically putting on my dress.

My older brother had just ambushed me with his mate and the first time she saw me might’ve been with a bed head. I was angry with him for waking me, but I would’ve been more pissed if he hadn’t done so, not when I wanted to meet the cursebreaker so badly. 

“I’m sure she did,” Cassian chuckled, strapping his daggers to his side, no doubt going to train when this is over. 

“Ugh,” I sigh, running a brush through my hair. “I probably looked awful.” I sigh, setting down the brush. 

I see Cassian walking up to me through the mirror. He wraps his arms around my waist and places a kiss on my shoulder, sending reassurance and affection down the bond.

“I don’t think you’ve ever looked awful a day in your life, princess.” he smiled into my shoulder. 

“You have to say that you’re my mate,” I laughed, turning in his arms. 

“And your husband don’t forget that title too,” he says, tilting my chin up to meet his warm gaze. 

“How could I ever forget that, husband.” I smile, pecking his lips.

Without another word Cassian and I walk hand in hand down the hallway to where Rhys and Feyre are sitting in the living room. I take a moment to survey their body language. While my brother leans on his knees, seemingly drinking in every breath and movement Feyre has to offer, the cursebreaker sits stiffly on the couch. I make eye contact with my brother and he stands immediately.

“Feyre darling I would like to introduce you to Cassian, the general of my armies and y/n, my little sister,” Rhys says proudly gesturing to the two of us. 

Feyre turns to see us and I swear my heart stops. The last time I saw the female she was prone on the floor underneath the mountain. Every High Lord had sacrificed a bit of power to save her. Becoming high fae seemed to suit her.

“Hello Feyre, it's an honor to meet you,”  I smile. 

“The honor is all mine,” she says timidly, giving a slight bow. “I’ve heard stories of your beauty before. Tamiln and Lucien used to talk about you a lot, I never believed them but now I see they were right.” 

“Oh really?” Cassian inquired brisling at her words and I considered elbowing him in the ribs. 

“You flatter me too much, Feyre.” I say and look to change the subject. “How are you liking Velaris so far?”

“I like it very much, it’s beautiful here.” she says looking around the townhouse. “Rhysand says that you and Cassain are mates?”

“We are, we just had our mating ceremony and our wedding last month,” I say happily. Cauldron, had it already been a month?

“Congratulations to the both of you,” she smiled stiffly.

“I was just about to take a walk through the city, there’s a pastry shop down there that makes croissants stuffed with this delicious chocolate and hazelnut filling. Would you like to join?” I ask, my brother gave me a weary eye, but I shrugged him off. What Feyre needed was a friend, a female friend that is, and I was more than happy to jump at the opportunity. 

“I would like that,” she smiles, the blue in her eyes lighting up ever so slightly. “May I walk with your sister oh so powerful high lord?” Feyre turned to Rhys, sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

Rhys barked out a laugh, one I hadn’t heard in quite some time, “Feyre darling I told you that you are not my prisoner, you may take the air with my sister if it pleases you.” he says gesturing to me.  

“Well then shall we?” the cursebreaker asked me. 

I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as I looped my arm in hers, I had a feeling she and I were going to be fast friends. 

“You’re right this is incredible,” Feyre’s words were nearly inaudible as flakes of pastry fell from her mouth. 

“I know right? I’ve been going there once a week for years. Well sort of…when I was growing up I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. My parents were weird and feared my beauty would be too tempting for males. So they locked me up tight and threw away the key. Rhys used to bring me these pastries all the time, he was my only real window to the outside world.” I divulge, almost regretting telling her so much until I remember how she came to be here in Velaris. 

“So you haven’t really seen the other courts then have you?” she asks, wiping some chocolate from the corner of her mouth. 

“I actually have,” I smile finishing the last bite of my treat. “When Rhys learned to fly the first thing he did was come and get me and take me to a candy shop. From that day forward he snuck me out whenever he got the chance, that’s how I know Tamlin and Lucien. It never sat right with my brother, what my parents did to me,” I continue, hoping to show a side of Rhys that I knew he would never offer up himself. 

Feyre continued walking beside me, for a moment there was silence, as if she was considering my story, comparing it with hers. If she had something to say about Rhys she didn’t divulge, instead turning the conversation to other matters.

“Can I ask about you and your mate?” she queries. “I’m not sure if it’s a personal subject or not, I’m not well versed in the customs of fae.” 

“Ask anything you like, I assure you I have no problem talking about my mate,” I laugh thinking of Cassian’s smiling face now. 

Feyre gives a subtle laugh, “How did you know he was your mate?” she says, turning her head to read my expression as we further walked down the Sidra, seemingly clinging on my every word just like Rhys had clinged to hers. 

“Well Cassian knew first, I didn’t know until much later,” I start recalling the moment the bond snapped, the joy followed by pure terror. “I was set to marry Eris Vanserra, an arrangement made by our fathers a long time ago. When Rhys and I returned from under the mountain we both grew apart as we were both processing what had happened in our own way. He found the arrangement in my fathers things and thought that we could use the Autumn Court’s armies if Hybern should come to call, and after he saved me under the mountain I didn’t want to say no.” 

“He saved you, yet you were still down there?” Feyre asked, and I paused for a moment. Rhys had not told her the conditions of his servitude. 

“You don’t know?” I ask to make sure. If Rhys didn’t explain to his mate why he took the actions he did, it would be a great disservice to both him and his character, one I would rectify.

“Know what?” she asked clearly not seeing the big deal as she finished off her own croissant. 

“The only reason Rhys was Amarantha’s whore was because of me,” I start, feeling the shame seep in. “When we first arrived under the mountain he was able to keep me hidden, but then Hybern paid a visit and he wanted to take me for his wife. Rhys begged Amarantha not to let him take me, she agreed on the condition that he would come to her bed willingly.”  

“I-I had no idea,” the cursebreaker stuttered as her eyes zoned out on something far away. 

“It’s not something he and I talk about much, but it’s for that reason I chose to marry Eris, to try  and repay his sacrifice. However, Eris was cruel, he hurt me and assaulted me, I was nothing more than a pet to him. Cassian was the one to take me back and forth to the Autumn Court during our courtship and I fell in love with him. One night we couldn’t stay away any longer and I found myself in his bed. I knew I couldn’t end the courtship with Eris without bargaining for armies so I kept our relationship a secret.” 

“That must’ve been torture,” Feyre gasped her eyes finally finding me. 

“It was,” I nodded. “I didn’t know we were mates, and I ended up finding out the day of the wedding, but it was too late. I married Eris to save Velaris and Cassian was banished from Autumn. That night Eris found out I was impure, he dumped me over the Autumn court border and left me to die. If it wasn’t for the bond Cassian never would have found me.” I finished telling the story. 

“I- I’m sorry that you had to go through those things. That you came to be with Cassian under such hard circumstances.” she says, as if she doesn’t trust her own words. “But things are better now right? You’re safe?” 

I let out a light hearted laugh, trying to keep the conversation from veering anywhere dark, “I’ve never been safer. Eris is out of the picture now that my brother and Cassian have chased him out of town. Now it’s just Cassian and I in our newly mated bliss.” I smile. 

“I can see how anyone would run from Rhys,” Feyre rolls her eyes dramatically. 

A warm chuckle rumbles through my chest, one so infectious it finds Feyre’s lips too, “I know my brother can be a bit of an ass sometimes. But give him a chance, he might be the king of sarcasm, but underneath all that he truly cares.” I tell her, bumping into her shoulder playfully. 

“I suppose I can try, at least I know I have you now,” she smiles looking across the way at a nearby vendor. 

My heart smiles at her words. 

At least I have you.

My mission was complete. I was able to get her to trust me, to feel like she had a friend in me. Maybe, just maybe, her knowing that there was someone else on her side would bring her closer to Rhys, maybe I could finally find a way to repay the sacrifice my brother gave for me. 

I swing the wooden sword down at Cassian’s, the hard impact of them meeting causing a grunt to leave my lips. The hot sun beat down on us as we spared as best we could. He could easily beat me if he wanted to, I was still a beginner after all,  but he never made me feel like I was inferior. We had been out here for over an hour, the evidence of it being seen on my sweaty fighting leathers. My second set, to be exact. Once my first set got dirty and sweaty Cassian bought me another so I didn’t have to wash them so often. 

I had no clue where he got them, but somehow these were even more beautiful than the last set. My mate even got me a Illyrian steel corset that would keep me from being lacerated, as well as metal bracers to protect my wrists. At first they took some getting used to, the weight of them a new feeling, but now they were like a second skin. 

“Sword high princess,” Cassian instructed me as I felt the weight of the wooden sword start to bring my arm down. 

“It's heavy!” I protest swinging at him again, this time with both hands on the hilt to hit him harder, even though he told me not to do that.

His sword clashes with mine and in one swoop he uses his wooden blade to raise my own. My hands were high above my head as he stood inches from me. 

“I know it’s heavy just wait until you wield a real sword,” he says, placing a kiss on my nose, taunting me. “And don’t use both hands, in real combat you’ll have a shield as well, you’ll need to be able to use that sword with one hand.” 

I let out a low growl before stepping on his foot, earning a groan from him as he didn’t see it coming. My sword sits heavy in my hands as I swing it, knocking his legs out from under him and using my shoulder as extra force to put him on the ground. He lies on his back below me, wooden sword tumbling from his hand. I see him reach for it and lightly press the toe of my boot into his wrist and lower myself on top of him, placing the pretend blade to his throat.    

Cassian’s hazel eyes look up at me in pure awe and amusement and something I had only ever seen from him, pride. 

“Is it bad that this is turning me on right now?” he barked out a laugh causing me to break my menacing stare. 

I snort at his words, letting up the pressure I had on his arms in the process, “Cass you ruin everything!” I laughed, tossing my sword to the side and shifting my foot off his wrist so that I sat fully on his stomach. 

“You call it ruining the moment, I say I’m making it better,” he smirks as his hands find my hips. 

The Lord of Bloodshed leans up to place a passionate kiss on my lips. My hands find either of his cheeks needing him closer to me than he already is. As his tongue swipes my bottom lip and enters my mouth I let out a small moan that has him shifting beneath me. 

“Really guys on the training mat? Is nowhere sacred anymore?” Azriel’s causes us both to nearly jump out of our skin. 

“Cauldron Az,” Cassian curses, putting a hand over his heart like it might’ve stopped. “Enough with the spymaster shit you scared the piss out of me.” 

A smirk tugged at Azriel’s lips, “You deserved it,” he remarked, going to wrap his hands. 

I shift my weight off Cassian and stand offering him my hand. He takes it, even though he’s twice my size and if he truly used my help I would end up on the ground again.  

“You’re getting better princess,” Azriel praised me. “I’d say it’s time you wield a steel sword instead of a wooden one.” 

“Maybe,” Cass warns, dusting himself off. “The last thing I need is you slicing yourself open.” he said to me.

“What afraid I’ll mar my pretty skin?” I tease rocking back and forth on my toes, remembering how Cassian all but worshiped me last night, claiming that the stories of my rose petal soft skin were true. 

“No I’m afraid that you’ll accidentally bleed out on me,” he replies, flicking my nose. 

Azriel chuckles beside us, “You’re far too protective of your mate brother, she can handle a real sword if she can handle your ass.” he taunts. 

“You forget that if anything were to happen to her Rhys would have my head,” Cassian rolls his eyes, placing our swords back on the rack behind him. 

“I suppose you’re right, but she has to start sometime.” Az shrugs, finishing the wrappings on his hands. “Alright princess who you got today?” he asked me. 

I let out a laugh as our new tradition reared its head again. For weeks now after Cass trained me Azriel would come down and they would spar. I would always gamble on who would win the first match, sometimes I would win, sometimes I would lose, it was all in great fun. But lately the boys had been taking it much more seriously and I couldn’t help but laugh at them and call them “Illyrian babies”. 

“Hmmm,” I said, pretending to think. “Considering I just handed Cassian his ass I think you’ve got this one Azriel.”

“Pfft in his dreams,” Cassian scoffs, ripping off his shirt. Azriel copies the motion and I can’t help but feel my cheeks heat at the sweaty males in front of me.  

“Then let’s raise the stakes then,” Azriel boasts. “I win, y/n trains with steel tomorrow” 

“You’re on,” Cassian taunts as he squares up. “Baby, I hope you aren’t prone to splinters because you’re going to be getting them for a while.”

Azriel took two steps back towards me, “Wanna give me some good luck?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

I laughed and gave the shadow singer a playful kiss on the cheek. 

“Now we’re talking,” Azriel laughed, flipping his swords in his hands. 

“Oh you’re a dead male where you stand,” Cassian smirked.

In an instant they were a storm of steel. If it had been a real fight I’m sure wisps of cobalt and crimson power would be among that twister of metal. But their rule was no siphons when training.  In a weird way it was beautiful the way they fought. During the training sessions with Cass I had come to learn that fighting was much like dancing, it was about anticipating your enemies next movement. Knowing where to step when, how to move your feet. 

They were both evenly matched in every way. Even though I spent every day pretending to think about who might win I never truly knew. It was always a guess, or a gut feeling. So far I had bet mostly on Cassian, for obvious reasons, but whenever I put my money on Azriel he seemed to show up. 

As I watched them deflecting eachothers blows and grunting with the sheer force of striking and blocking, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever be as good as them. If I would ever be able to truly fight and win against the warriors. 

My thoughts were interrupted when I saw Azriel’s back hit the ground, his wing being pinned underneath him. Cassian stood above him, chest heaving and pointing his sword at the shadowsingers neck. 

“Do you yield?” Cassian asked out of breath. 

Azriel simply held up his hand to ask his brother for a lift up, silently admitting defeat. Cass took it and hauled the spymaster up in one heave. 

I clapped my hands slowly as Cass walked over to me knowing that this is when I typically took my leave to wash up for dinner.

“It was a good match,” I smiled at my mate trying to hide my disappointment about not being able to train with real swords yet.

Cass slid his fingers under my chin and tilted it up so he could place a goodbye kiss on my lips, “You’ll train with steel tomorrow,” he smiled before returning to his own training. 

I gave an enthusiastic whoop before retreating to The House of Wind to clean up and prepare for dinner with Feyre and Rhys. 

Months Later…

It had finally happened. Feyre had found out that Rhys was her mate and she wasn’t taking it well at all. 

Rhys was distraught when he found me in the library reading. He told me what had happened, from the ambush, to the Suriel telling Feyre about the bond. I honestly spent most of the time being surprised that the cursebreaker had been able to find the Suriel in the first place. My brother told me that his mate sat in the old cabin in the Illyrian mountains and I knew instantly that I needed to see her. 

I had watched the two of them come alive for each other these past few months. Saw Feyre become stronger and more sure of herself. Watched my brother turn back into the male he was when we were just kids. I had befriended the Archeron girl all the while, offering her comfort when I could, as we shared many of the same experiences, being locked up, being in an abusive relationship, being under the mountain…

I ran to Cassian asking him to fly me to the cabin and he did so without a second thought. He saw the panic in my eyes, the need to be there with her, to offer her some sort of comfort. Because as if fate had intertwined us we now shared another experience… being the last to know about our mating bonds. 

As Cassian landed in the snow outside the cabin I wished I had brought more furs. The wind ripped around me, chilling me to the bone. I shook off the memories of being thrown into the Winter Court and marched my way up to the cabin door giving it a knock. 

Feyre opened the cabin door dressed in breeches and a thick sweater, her hands and face covered in paint. 

“I can leave if you would like some privacy, I just wanted to check on you,” I say earnestly trying to keep my teeth from chattering. 

Feyre’s blue eyes look to me and then back to Cassian who stands a few yards away. “Come on in, I could use a friend.” she said quietly and my heart warmed at the word ‘friend’.

I nod to Cassian who takes off into the sky before stepping into the cabin. The warmth of the raging fire immediately heats my cheeks and I discard my furs onto a nearby chair. It had been years since I had been back here. We used to spend solstice here, just the four of us. Of course that was before mother and father died, and I hadn’t been back since. 

I look around and gasped. All over the walls Feyre had painted our eyes, my family's eyes. Each so distinct I could name each one. Amren and Mors, Azriel’s, Rhys’ distinct violet, and at the end, Cassian and I’s painted together. 

“These are beautiful,” I say in awe, looking over each set again. 

“I just needed something to get my mind off things,” she sighed, collecting the paints in a box. 

There was a moment of silence as I tried to let her decide where she wanted the conversation to go. She closed the box with a sigh and then turned to me. 

“Did you know?” she inquired, her eyes flickered with hope and I realized she prayed that I was just as in the dark as she was, that she wasn’t alone in this. 

My heart dropped and her eyes faltered as she heard the answer in my hesitation. “I wanted so badly to tell you, but I knew it wasn’t my place to say anything, it was between you and Rhys.” I say sitting on the floor by the fire. 

“I understand why you didn’t say anything but I wish someone had told me,” she says solemnly before joining me on the rug. 

“Believe me I wanted someone to tell me too,” I chuckle as I lean forward more soaking up the heat of the flames. 

Her eyes shoot to me as she seems to remember how I was in the same situation not too long ago, “When you found out Cassian was your mate, that he had kept the bond a secret from you, were you upset with him?” she asked. 

I cocked my head trying to remember what I felt that day in the Autumn Court, “Honestly it happened so fast that I can’t remember what I was feeling exactly, but I know I wasn’t angry,” I chuckled. “I had loved Cass long before I ever said it. He kept the bond from me because he thought he was taking a weight off my shoulders. He didn’t want me to feel like I had to choose between my mate and my court. I wish I would’ve known, it would’ve saved me a world of trouble because I would’ve chosen him no questions asked. But I understand he had his reasons for keeping it from me.” 

Feyre gave a shallow nod, signaling that she had heard me. “But why didn’t Rhys tell me?” she asked, her words desperate and I wasn’t sure if it was a question I could answer.

“I don’t know for sure.” I said honestly. “But I do know this, Rhys has spent his whole life believing he is a monster because of the front he has to put on for others. I think sometimes he forgets why he puts on that front, to protect his people and his family.” 

I take a deep breath wondering if I should continue but I can’t stop the overflow of words coming from me, “I think he didn’t want you to feel shackled to a monster. All you’ve ever known is the darker parts of him, he wanted to give you a chance to let you know the good parts, then let you decide for yourself,” I place my hand on her arm and her eyes snap to mine. “All I can say is that Rhys wouldn’t keep it from you if he didn’t have a good reason. You don’t have to hear him out today, tomorrow or even next week. But I think you should at some point, if only to give yourself the peace of mind of knowing the full story.” 

Feyre nods again, grabbing my hand and squeezing it tight, “I’m really glad you’re here,” she confessed, her eyes going glassy. 

“Anything for you Archeron,” I smile, feeling my eyes glass over too.

I'm so fucking excited for the next chapter I'm buzzin' guys...

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[biteofcherry]

EVA IM SO EXCITED FOR THE LOTTERY

I don’t want to steal Steve from you 🥲 so I’m thinking (and hoping) that Ari sweeps me away! Love me that beefy man 😤

Happy holidays!!!

✨✨✨

Your scream chimed in the air as you were swept into strong arms and ripped from the safety and warmth of the spring gardens.

You weren't sure if anyone even heard your cry, since you purposely went deep into the maze of wilder bushes and embrace of an orchard. You needed space from the overwhelming brightness and fake smiles that decorated the main courts of the palace as the lush flowers did.

It would always be your home and while as a child you looked at everyone and everything with wonder and limitless innocence, you saw through the facade as an adult.

Which is why, despite your high position in the court and certain expectations, you preferred to steer away from the gossip, jaded comments, lecherous hands.

Perhaps it would be better to fend of those hands on the familiar grounds. They disgusted you, but appeared harmless compared to the savage hands that plucked you like a flower.

A shard of pure darkness - scary and mysterious as the night itself - dropped from the sky and captured you.

He wasn't just a random specimen of the enemy court. You recognized the markings on his clothes. The swirl of glowing tattoos. The wide span of his dark wings. As well the sky blue eyes peppered with flecks of gold like the nightsky itself.

The high lord of the night court.

Ari.

"You can't take me!" You dug your fingernails into his biceps, boiling with need to struggle against his solid hold, but knowing you couldn't do that. Unless you wanted to fall down to sure death.

"I already did, so seems that I can," came his cheeky reply.

"That will mean war." The two courts were already in strained relationship.

"If it came to it, it's wouldn't be my kingdom that drowns in blood." Ari was sure of his assessment. "But don't worry, we're going to do quite the opposite."