#but once I make that decision there is no going back

[sosasturns]

matt sturniolo WE’RE SO DONE

…IN WHICH READER IS FED UP W/ TOXIC!MATT, BLURB ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ just makin @throatgoat4u’s dreams come true (prompt)

your mother always told you don’t trust these men. that they’d smile in your face, make you feel like the only girl in the world, and still be entertaining somebody else behind your back. she told you to keep your heart guarded, to never be too available, to let a man prove himself before you gave too much.

and you should’ve listened.

now look at you. sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, at the text messages that keep rolling in. matt’s name lights up your screen like a ghost you can’t shake, the vibrations a constant reminder of everything you’re trying to walk away from.

Where U at? Delivered.

you don’t answer.

Why r U not picking up??? Delivered.

you let the text sit. just like you let everything else sit—the late replies, the half-assed explanations, the way he always left you guessing. left you feeling like you were standing on shaky ground, waiting for him to decide what the fuck this was between you two.

We need to talk Delivered.

you laugh under your breath. talk about what? about how he swore up and down that you were the only one he wanted, but couldn’t say what that meant? about how he had one foot in and one foot out, like he was scared to commit but even more scared to lose you?

you used to fall for this. the endless cycle. the fights, the distance, the making up. the way he’d pull you back in every single time, sweet talking his way back into your good graces, back into your bed, back into your life.

but not this time.

this time, you’re done.

you slide to his contact, hover over the block button. you hesitate for only a second—muscle memory, old habits—but then you do it.

you block him.

Unblock this caller.

a weight lifts from your chest. for the first time in a long time, you breathe. no more waiting for him to act right. no more settling for half of what you deserve.

matt realizes a little too late.

when the calls stop going through, when the messages don’t deliver, when he shows up at your place only to find the locks changed and your car gone. that’s when he starts spiraling, when he starts panicking. because this ain’t how it usually goes.

usually, after a fight, you come back. after a few days, after he texts the right things, after he shows up just enough to make you think maybe this time will be different. usually, you cave.

but you ain’t caving this time.

he calls from his friend’s phone. you hang up. he dms you. you delete it. he texts from a random number.

Baby just talk to me Seen

you don’t even flinch.

i’m cool on you. that’s what you send back, before blocking that number too.

Unblock This Caller.

he’s saying all the right things now.

I miss U

I wanna be with U

I ain’t think i was ready cause I was scared

I just want U in my life

i’m done w these other females Delivered

I’m Sorry Message Not Delivered. Try Again

but not once does he say i’m sorry. he never did.

and that’s how you know you made the right decision.

so you put your phone on do not disturb. close your eyes. and for the first time in a long time, you don’t lose sleep over him.

© SOSASTURNS

TAGLIST: @submattenthusiast @sophand4n4 @secretlocket @mrsdillonx @ch6rm @sweetrelieef @gabri3la-sturns @inspiredangel @sturn777 @et6rnalsun @faiyaz555 @whore4mattsturniolo @courta13 @katie-tibo @ifwdominicfike @raesturns @adoremattsturns @conspiracy-ash @cheriiboo @mattsleftball @applecidersturniolo @chrepsi @grace-sturnz @emely9274 @almloe @yourmother29

[sematarygirls]

⠀    ⠀⠀♯┆marshgirl!reader x rafe ⏤ part ii.ㅤ ۪ ୧

ᰋ. ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“ i witnessed a girl dragged under by the current once; i wanted to help her, but my father pulled me away. he told me there was no justice for drowning girls ,, ‎‎ ‎ ‎ : ‎‎ ‎ ‎IN WHICH . . . a strange boy shows up at the marsh unannounced.   ─── ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆🌾

THE AIR SEEMED different that day. The wind blew harder, swaying the leaves and making an eerie moaning sound that echoed through the marsh, a warning call that you should have picked up on. The air, usually a dusty blue in the evening, was a dark, suffocating grey that weighed down the atmosphere, making everything seem sinister and ghostly.

You were sitting in the window, gathering your dried herbs into bundles to hang around the house and ward off negative energies and bad spirits when the sound of a car approaching caused your ears to perk up. You knew the rattle of your daddy's truck like the back of your hand. This engine purred smoothly, like it was brand new.

A pit settled in your stomach at the realization that someone was in the marsh, someone you didn't know, and while your daddy was out no less. If he came home and saw a stranger, he would assume the worst of you, and you'd be in a heap of trouble.

Your heart thrummed wildly, like the wings of a moth caught in a lantern's glow as your head darted up to look out the window, watching a sleek black truck come into view. It looked expensive, a stark contrast to your daddy's rusty one.

The truck rolled to a stop a few feet from the porch, the sound of the engine cutting off sending a wave of nerves through you. No one ever came out here. No one should be out here.

You were frozen in place, fingers tightening on the bundle of dried herbs in your hand that you had been tying a string around. You watched a boy step out of the truck, glancing around with an uncertain look on his face. He was adorned in a dark blue polo shirt, white shorts, and a backward hat on his head.

Just from looking at him, you could tell he was the kind of boy your daddy had warned you about, the kind that took what he wanted without regard for consequence. The kind that girls like you should run from.

He approached the door, cringing as the porch creaked under his weight. He half thought it was going to give out right underneath his feet, but it stayed somewhat sturdy. He knocked once, surprisingly lightly, as if he thought the door would crumble under his knuckles and then stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around as he waited.

You hesitated for a moment before slipping off the windowsill and walking on the balls of your feet toward the door as quietly as you could manage. You shouldn't open the door. You knew better than the open it, but still, your hands twitched at your sides, eager to turn the knob and see what he wanted. He looked to be not much older than you were, after all.

You knew you shouldn't, but you longed for conversation that wasn't tense and short like the ones you had with your daddy. You longed to know what it was like behind the marsh, but you also knew that if your daddy found out about that or found this boy standing on your porch, it would get ugly.

The house held its breath as you stood there, hand outstretched just an inch from landing on the knob. The air around you seemed to thicken, pressing against you from all sides, and the wind outside howled, the marsh eager to see what decision you would inevitably make.

To your surprise, you closed the distance and pulled the door open before you could talk yourself out of it. Your eyes widened as you saw the tall boy up close, his head turning at the sound of the door opening. He was handsome, like the boys on the covers of the magazines you saw at the store.

His gaze snapped to yours, sharp and assessing. There was something uncertain in the way he rocked back on his heels, like he was trying to put distance between the two of you.

You didn't say anything at first, only stared, hands still clutching the bundle of herbs, the brittle stems digging into your palm. His presence felt intrusive, unnatural, like a stone tossed into a still pond. You weren’t used to visitors. You weren’t supposed to have them.

“You shouldn't be here,” you murmured, your voice soft, barely above a whisper.

Rafe tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of you. “Yeah?” he said, like he wasn’t convinced. His voice was smooth but edged with something you couldn’t quite place—arrogance, maybe, or curiosity.

You glanced over his shoulder, tilting your own head like a curious puppy as you listened intently for the rumble of your daddy's truck of the quieting of the crickets—any indication that he was coming.

“You need to leave before my daddy gets home,” you said finally, voice even softer now, as if speaking it too loud might summon your father from the trees. “If he sees you…” you trailed off, letting the implication settle between you.

Rafe’s lips pressed together, like he was considering pushing his luck, but something in your expression—your wide, wary eyes, maybe—made him pause. “I just wanted to talk,” he said after a beat. “Didn’t think I’d get the third degree for it.”

You blinked at him, confused. “The third degree?”

His lips quirked up in amusement, glancing behind you into your house, seeing a shelf of herbs, jarred substances, animal bones, moss, stones, and carved sculptures that made his brows furrow. “Uh—Nevermind. Look, I’m not here to cause any trouble. I just…” He hesitated, like the words weren’t quite right, like he was trying to find something that didn’t sound like a lie. “I wanted to see you. I mean, I saw you before—at the grocery store, and I just—I dunno, wanted to meet you.”

A foreign feeling settled in your chest at his words. “I'm not supposed to talk to strangers,” you told him, looking up at him with wide eyes, but still, your feet seemed planted in place like the roots of a tree, keeping you from doing what you knew you should have—shut the door in his face.

“Well, I'm Rafe,” he grinned, that arrogant look he was known for. He reached his hand out for you to shake, but you just cocked your head, looking down at it in confusion, like you didn't know what to do. “What's—uh—What's your name?” He asked, retracting his hand. “So we won't be strangers anymore.”

You froze at that, at the simple question. Names were dangerous things. They weren’t just words. They were identities, parts of yourself that you could never take back once given. You were known as “marsh girl” for a reason. No one knew your real name, and you had always intended to keep it that way. Names were powerful.

The weight of the question hung in the air for awhile, and for some reason, you really wanted to tell him your name. For once, you wanted someone to know you, someone to not be a stranger, but you knew better. “My name's... not important," you finally whispered. “I'm not allowed to talk to people like you.”

“People like me?” He asked, his brows furrowing at how cryptic you were. This was definitely going to be harder than he thought, but he was determined to make it work. He'd made a bet to win, and that's what he was going to do. It would just take a little more effort than he anticipated.

You felt your chest tighten, as if the words were caught between your ribs. Your gaze flickered to the ground, to the bundle of herbs still tightly held in your hands, a small comfort. "People who come from... places where the air is different," you whispered, your voice fragile. The air around you was a comfort to you and a discomfort to him. He didn't understand the ways of the marsh, and that was a dangerous thing.

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, clearly trying to decipher the layers of meaning in your words. “Places where the air is different?” he echoed, sounding like he didn’t understand. Inside, he was trying to keep his composure. You were nuttier than all the Pogues he'd ever met combined, and it drove him crazy that he had no idea what you were talking about

It made all the sense in the world to you, though. Everything about him—his clothes, his demeanor, his shiny car—it all screamed that he was out of place, different, and that kind of thing got you killed in this world. Prey blend into the greenery. They don't stand out.

He came from a place where being loud and assertive was how you survived, how you thrived. He didn't know what it was like to live by the standards of the marsh, to only speak when spoken to. He didn’t know what it was like to keep your head down, your voice soft, and your hands busy, never drawing attention to yourself.

“You have to go now,” you told him firmly, the air seeming to shift in a way that you noticed, as if the marsh was warning you. “Goodbye... Rafe.” You shut the door in his face before he could say more, leaning against it and letting out a shaky breath.

You listened, and for a moment, there was nothing, but then, you heard his footsteps retreat and his car start up. You were relieved that he was leaving, and all you could do was hope that he never came back, not unless you knew your daddy wouldn't be home in time to interupt.

                         ୭ৎ

tags .ᐟ   @lovemesailor / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 / @oatmealisweird / @lanaslushworld / @6r4cie / @corpsebridenightamare / @moustacherryismyhusband / @littlelamy / @vanityvixen / @susanhill / @jjasmiineee / @rafecameronswifeyy / @throughthedakotas

[litsy-kalyptica]

my unqualified advice for adulting through this service fee issue

If you've been charged more than you agreed to at checkout, demand a refund.

DO NOT LOG INTO PAYPAL through the site before you're ready to check out. There is at least one reported instance of the buyer being charged just by logging in.

If you haven't checked out yet, hold off until further notice, use a credit card so you can see what the fees will be, or accept that you will be charged these mystery fees until we hear otherwise. If you choose to go ahead regardless, take a screenshot of your cart at checkout and proceed to option 1.

If this post may apply to you, see what your options may be under applicable law.

Continue to alert DNP to the issue. I disagree with framing this as their fault or that they're stealing from their audience but it is something they need to address once they are made aware of it. (Bear in mind that you can't prove what someone does or doesn't know and even though it's a frustrating experience they will not be able to respond immediately once they are aware.)

Accept that this issue may not go away. Those who have been charged more than they agreed to deserve that money back. For everyone else, you have the power to choose whether or not to purchase anything to do with the event. If you have the means to buy a ticket/merch for the livestream you have the responsibility to make your own financial decisions.

None of this entitles anyone to DNP's work for free. They deserve to make a living from their work just as much as you do.

[oo-li]

please follow the instructions !! it took me a total of 30 minutes to write my comment, it isn't hard to do. you can even look at other posted comments for ideas on what to include to support your own comment !

i'll include mine under the read more, but please do not copy and paste this as your own- make yours unique and include facts !

"I am writing to the Council on Environmental Quality regarding docket number CEQ-2025-0002. It is alarming to me as a citizen born in Colorado and raised in Pennsylvania that President Trump would rescind late former President Carter's Executive Order 11991. To start, I would like to highlight a few key moments in our country's history that first led to the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) being drafted and signed into law before I further stress on the importance the Council on Environmental Quality (CEQ); not just for the NEPA, but for every single person in the United States.

Going back to the 1960s- the very period my parents were born- there were rising concerns amongst the general public about the environment we all take for granted each day. The Sixties were vital in our country's growth and shaping our current day life for many reasons, from progress in eliminating social and racial inequalities to technological and medical advancements to the development of highways. In 1956, Interstate 70 (I-70) would begin construction across the country, first starting in Missouri with the Mark Twain Expressway. Kansas would also complete the first section of I-70 in November of that same year, allowing many to travel along the two-lane section of U.S. 40. This expansion in connecting surburban neighborhoods and cities across the nation. Despite the economic gains as a result of the Interstate Highway System, its construction raised worries due to the destruction of many communities and ecosystems. That, in combination with public awareness from Rachel Carson's Silent Spring (1962), lead to public outcry and the highway revolts countrywide. As NEPA was being drafted in 1969, there was even more public outrage in response to the Santa Barbara oil spill that same year. Our citizens cared very deeply about the environment of our nation, the highway revolts mentioned earlier would continue to occur even into the next decade. When information and data became public, masses would listen and show up in protection for nature. NEPA was and still is a vital tool for the public to have access to information on environmental impacts before decisions are made.

Once NEPA was signed into law in 1970 by former President Nixon, the newly established Council on Environmental Quality would begin its duties as outlined. This marked the beginning of development projects not just being reviewed, it allowed for space and time to have improvements made to plans before they became set in stone. Often these reviews and studies are seen as lost profit and wasted time by investors and agencies, however without them projects like Florida's Everglades Parkway could have destroyed critical habitats to its state's ecosystem and threaten essential water supplies the entire state relies upon. As a result of engineers and planners accounting for the impact on wildlife, flow of freshwater through the Big Cyprus and Everglades wetlands, and limited access to the highway for landowners, the final design had: incorporated 24 wildlife underpasses and 40 miles of fencing along the route; eliminated frontage roads by buying purchasing local access rights, allowing for controlled growth of communities; added cable barriers where needed and scheduled construction to be done around the rain season of the area (avoiding delays, damage to in progress sites, and rain carrying debris from construction sites into wetlands). Instead of being a burden to the project, it had actually provided otherwise unknown vital information to lead the state of Florida towards building the most sustainable and best possible facility. This is just one instance where CEQ assisted developing projects in the country by enforcing NEPA and there have been countless more.

By allowing the CEQ to continue to uphold NEPA regulations, our nation will only continue to prosper. Making federal agencies use clear and concise language when turning in their reviews and studies in combination with publicly known set regulations give our country the best backbone for all future development projects and construction works. The CEQ is a vital branch of the Executive Office of the President (EOP) and by removing its ability to enforce NEPA regulations puts our nation at severe risk of putting not just nature in danger, but every person residing here too. I cannot stress enough how important it is to protect the CEQ's ability to do its job in accordance with NEPA. I urge you to reconsider this action."

We have 30 days until the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) laws are rescinded. This is the 50-year bedrock of American conservation. Normally, these actions take years but the administration has provided 30 days for public comment gutting clean water and clean air. Drop what you’re doing, before you make any more calls or read any more social media posts, please populate the Federal Register with dissent.

A. Go to https://www.federalregister.gov/documents/2025/02/25/2025-03014/removal-of-national-environmental-policy-act-implementing-regulations

B. Click on the green rectangle in the upper right corner ("SUBMIT A PUBLIC COMMENT") .

C. Fill in your comment, and info at the bottom, and SUBMIT COMMENT.

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Ok so this is my first time ever doing an ask so if I’m doing this wrong PLEASE tell me. Anyways I wanted to ask for some Oliver Aiku angst. Specifically where we’re married and he’s been cheating but he’s done a weirdly good job at hiding it. But then we find out and leave him. And if you could PLEASE make it in Oliver’s POV for extra male groveling. Now again this is my first time doing an ask so if I come off as demanding or just not detailed enough please forgive me. 🤕😭🫶🏼🤕

moral of the story oliver aiku x gn!reader

Synopsis: Oliver Aiku had everything: fame, the best career, and the love of his life... but sometimes, the snake slithers into the garden of Eden to poison everything.

Tags and Themes: angst, cheating, divorce, established relationship, marriage, people asking stupid questions, aiku's human condition biting him in the ass, ooc lmao, ubers team mentioned eheh

Author's notes: Hello, sweetpea! Oh, this took me a while to write, and you're my first ever request for a drabble! haha! Thank you so much for dropping this request! I wrote it as well as I could. I drew inspiration from stories I heard from that one Reddit story that Smosh read. I forgot which episode, but I will link it here if I find it again. I hope you love it! Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

photo grabbed from Pinterest (owner unknown; will search for it and add it here)

Want more stories? Check out the Blue Lock Masterlist!

On nights, he would stay up and wonder where he went wrong.

He knew he had gotten something wrong; he wasn't stupid, but the turn of events was something he couldn't control, or at least that's what he told himself to comfort him. The dissatisfaction, the cheating, the decision.

He lost everything that he once had.

If we go back to 2 years ago, Oliver Aiku was on the top of the world. Everyone loved him, everyone adored him. He was at the peak of his career at the ripe age of 27, one of Japan's most treasured players as he played for Italy. He was every kid's dream player and every teenager's role model in sports. And most of all, he had you, the best partner he could ever have; you were the one who knew him best since childhood until now and the best support he could ever have had. In every interview he had, he would honor you, telling the world that you're his lucky charm.

He had his dream life.

He had all the best in the world.

In your two years of marriage, he lived for the moment in the privacy of your shared home more than the spotlight on him all the time. Mornings were sweet as he would hold you in his arms, whispering "good morning" in your ear. As sweet love was shared between the safety of your sheets, he knew so well that this was his heaven, having you by his side. The routine of your quiet and comfortable days was something he held close to his heart because he knew how much you cared for him every day, and he gladly reciprocated that. It was all so surreal.

You were so surreal.

But sometimes, the devil slithers silently into the garden without anyone noticing, and for Aiku, it was the playful banters he had with his teammates.

"Don't you ever find it boring?" Lorenzo asked as they all gathered back into the locker room after a productive day of practice. That question alone got everyone's attention.

"Find what boring?" Barou chimed in, his gruff voice echoing in the room. Lorenzo cocked his head towards Aiku as he replied, "I was asking Mr. Lavender Haze here. I wanna know if marriage ever gets boring." Barou scoffs, shaking his head at his teammate. "You wouldn't understand that because all you ever care about is money."

"True, but that's because money can't hurt me," Lorenzo snickered. He slung an arm around Aiku, leaning all his weight on the defender. "Aiku has given up being a player for his partner. That's something I never expected him to do. He'd always disappear every time we're out drinking."

"There are things that needed to be sacrificed for love, Lorenzo," Aiku said, removing Lorenzo's arm around his shoulders. "You'd understand once you fall in love."

"But does it get boring?" Niko asked. The youngest of the team was never one to ask or peep when they talk about relationships, but this conversation must have piqued his interest. "Two years of marriage with the same person and all you do is now a routine. Surely, you'd return to your natural self, your human tendency of being a player."

"Niko, that's why sacrifices are made. I wouldn't have married them if I didn't truly love them. Besides, I know what I was doing before was destructive and inappropriate. I changed for them, and I couldn't be happier."

Niko hummed in response and continued whatever he was doing. But for Aiku, the questions stayed in his mind for quite a while. Does it ever get boring?

That's why he'd break up his past relationships before; 3 months of being together turn dull for him. He needed excitement, a challenge. He needed the thrill of chasing and pursuing. He lived for that high. But you..

You offered contentment, satisfaction, safety, and security. Something he never felt before because he tended to cheat and lily pad. He never wanted to settle down until you came back into his life and accepted him for who he was, loved him despite his past, and cared for him more than he ever cared for himself. You were the epitome of perfection in his eyes.

It was then he realized he still wanted it.

He wanted to get high on that feeling again.

It started small. Drinks with the team would turn into them entertaining fangirls at the bar. It wasn't new that Aiku would get the attention. Girls loved how he looked: his heterochromic eyes and how he carried himself. He'd tell them he was married at first, but with the need for thrill, he eventually gave in and chatted with one of the girls.

He didn't push her away when her hand started to wander on his thighs.

He didn't pull away when her lips got too close to his.

Eventually, his thoughts turned into fruition. The devil made him bite into the apple that wasn't supposed to be eaten, but whatever.

One make-out session turned into secret texts and calls. He was so good at being so discreet, making him feel nostalgic. His excuses weren't so obvious that you'd start suspecting him of anything. Rendezvous were hidden under the guise of extra training time due to an upcoming match, and calls were excused as ones from his manager about "interviews". He was careful, but could not hide the fact that it was...

It was everything he wanted, and he wanted more. More of the thrill, more of her, while still in the safety of your love and marriage.

How could you be so blind, he asked himself. How could his lovely partner be so trusting of him? How could you still smile and kiss him without knowing he was betraying you?

How could he imagine a life without you?

Months passed, and he knew he was in too deep. He started prioritizing the "practices" and "calls from the manager" over the time he should spend with you. It annoyed you, but you knew that's one of the things you were made aware of when you married the football star. His career comes first; the sports community will always have his attention first.

The calls kept coming, and one day, you answered one on his phone.

It wasn't the voice of his manager.

You were quick to pack up and leave despite his pleas, telling you he was sorry, that it was a mistake, that it wasn't supposed to happen.

"I told you, Aiku. When you proposed to marry me, I told you one mistake, I'll leave. I trusted you with all of my life, Aiku. I accepted you and saw how you changed for our marriage, and yet you betrayed me."

He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye after that.

He couldn't bring himself to wake up every morning, your absence making it all heavier. You weren't coming back soon, and he messed up. He lost you. He lost the life he knew he wanted. He lost the love he never deserved in the first place, yet you gave it to him wholeheartedly. You gave him a chance, and he failed.

The divorce papers arriving at his doorstep made it all worse.

He didn't want to sign it. He stared at it for too long, for days... for weeks... until your lawyer had to ring him up for the deadline.

He hated himself. For the first time, he hated every fiber of his being.

Every court meeting is like seeing the light because he gets to see you, his perfect angel. The only love he's ever known. But you would never meet his eyes. Always looking away, always so distant. He did this, he caused this. He lost the only love he ever knew.

After two whole years and several court hearings, your divorce was finalized. And for the first time in a long time, Aiku finally caught a glimpse of your eyes, the closest thing he could get to feeling your love once again, yet the words that came out of your mouth crushed him.

"I hope you realize that I will be the only one who will truly love you for you and not for your money and fame."

Aiku wasn't a crier. He never was, but he found himself breaking down at your words and how real this finally felt. He truly lost you. You were no longer his, and he's just a shell of a broken man.

He'll be haunted by the ghost of you, forever...

[seellove]

Could You Stay a Little Longer // drug dealer!sukuna x reader

Masterlist

Chapter 2 // (12.1k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 2 | << Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 >>

You're pursuing a master degree across the country, but are currently back in your hometown housesitting for your parents. They've told you all about their undesirable new neighbor, but when you start to get to know said neighbor, you realize he isn't all that bad. Your controlling boyfriend won't let up on you and you grapple with enjoying the company of this drug dealing neighbor boy, Sukuna. Nothing about this is going the way you planned, but is it so bad to let yourself be treated well for a change?

The cultural setting for this is technically economically depressed, rural USA where good paying jobs are hard to come by and there's not many opportunities in small towns, but it could really be anywhere that meets this criteria!

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are mid 20s, mentions of recreational drug use and drug dealing, mentions of abusive/controlling/manipulative relationship (not Sukuna), could possibly be considered cheating depending on your interpretation (not Sukuna), angst, smut, fluff, time skip, prison time, happy ending trust!

Day 3

You decide to continue cleaning out the gardens this morning, once again trying to get ahead of the midday heat. As you head towards the road, the morning chorus of birds in the trees bring a sort of serenity to the neighborhood…until you notice Sukuna’s yard looks anything but peaceful, wrecked once again. 

It’s not surprising considering how loud things were over there last night. It didn’t keep you up per se, but you definitely could hear the loud music and cars engines revving all night long. The man definitely did not seem to want to keep a low profile that’s for sure considering the neighborhood already had it out for him. Thank god for earplugs.

What is the point of cleaning up yesterday if he just trashed everything less than 3 hours later? 

You throw your earbuds in, get on your knees, and start pulling weeds. It’s tiring and uncomfortable, but you figure if you do a little at a time each day you’ll have something good to show for it by the time you leave. Attempting to try and decipher the ways of the immature, cute, bad boy across the street wasn’t something even your advanced schooling could help with.  

After some time, a shadow appears where you are working, blocking the sun temporarily.

“You’re up early tomato girl,” Sukuna’s playful voice sounds from behind you. 

“I could say the same thing. Seemed like you had a late night. Don’t you have stuff to do during the day?” you chide at him, taking out your earbuds and setting your weed pile to the side so you can turn around. 

He’s in shorts and a t-shirt with a backwards hat smothering his wild hair, red eyes hidden by a pair of shades. He’s smirking down at you and you notice he’s holding a pair of hedge clippers.

“Sweets, I’m a dealer with a suspended license, what do you expect me to be doing all day?” 

“I don’t know, counting pills. Counting money? How should I know?” you retort. 

“You’re cute for thinking that’s what I’d do all day,” he teases. 

You just roll your eyes in response, you honestly don’t care to know, it’s not something you want to know anything about at this point.

“I’m going to clean up some of these shrubs,” he gestures to some plants on the edges of the garden.

“Oh that’s not necessary-“

“I know it’s not, but I’m a grown adult who can make his own decisions. Also tired of these people who won’t get the fuck out my house, I’d rather be around someone I actually enjoy.” 

“Why do you have people over if you want them to leave early? Drugs and booze aren’t exactly conducive to people getting up and at ‘em in the morning,” you tease him as he starts working on a bush a few feet away.

“They’re my childhood friends, but they’re some degenerates who don’t do shit all day. They always promise they’ll be out by 8, but it never happens,” he sighs as he prunes his way around the shrubbery.

“Hey Kuna what’re you doing out here?” you hear a girl’s voice from the road. You look up and see two girls walking your way. They look pretty hungover, must have been some of the company from last night.

“I’m helping my neighbor with some yard work, are you all going to be leaving soon?” 

“Yeah, we were just about to go. Just wanted to see if we could buy something before we leave,” the other girl smiles at him. 

“Go ask Toji or one of the other guys, I’m busy,” he responds bluntly, not looking up from what he’s doing. 

They seem to take the hint and walk away, leaving you both alone again.

“Do you let girls sleep with you in lieu of paying?” you ask.

He bursts out laughing. 

“Fuck no, I’m actually pretty picky about who I’ll sleep with. Just never know their true intentions, especially because I’m weak for some good pillow talk. Haven’t been with anyone in a while now that I think of it since I got in trouble with the law again, maybe I’m paranoid of undercover shit or something.”  

You just nod in agreement, a surprisingly astute and mature response coming from him. It makes sense, but you’d expected him to be more free spirited and reckless. His pillow talk comment makes you internally laugh, you can totally see that being a thing, he’s so emotional and expressive after all. 

As you both continue working, your mind wanders back to your conversations with Cam last night. He’d ripped into you about Sukuna answering the phone while on your walk. 

He’d never let you have guy friends, so being around a random guy yesterday definitely set him off worse than usual. You did feel a little guilty about hanging around Sukuna, but it felt good at the same time, you enjoyed his company. With Cam not here, you had more freedom than you’ve had in ages, so you were keen to take advantage of it for a few days.

“Lemonade break?” you nudge his side as the heat starts to distract you.

“Yeah, fuckin’ brutal out here,” he runs his fingers through his hair.

You go retrieve some glasses and find Sukuna leaned back against the trunk of an old oak tree. You sit next to him, passing him an ice cold glass.

You both sit in silence, letting the cold liquid quench your dry throats, enjoying the soft breeze in your shady refuge. Sukuna’s hat is off, tufts of his pink hair dancing in the wind districting your gaze. 

“Do you think you’ll come back here after your grad school?” Sukuna asks once you’ve both cooled off.

“I haven’t decided yet. I love the area where my school is, but I do miss my family and friends here. Just harder to find a job ya know?” 

It was one of the reasons you’d moved away, to have a better opportunity at research opportunities and post graduate options for your chosen degree. 

“That’s valid,” he responds, stretching his long legs out on the grass in front of him. “Do you still have a lot of friends here?”

“I do, but a bunch of them got married pretty quick and already have a kid or two. Only a few of us are still childless,” you laugh. 

“Figures, seems to be the way things go around here. I remember my mom saying something about how no good girls will be left if I wait to settle down, but it seems like there’s still some goods around,” he turns his head to look at you, sunglasses pushed up on his head now.

“I like to think I’m pretty decent,” you laugh, averting your gaze as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Better than the crew who I hang around,” he snorts.

“I mean that’s not saying much,” you joke with him.

“Oh please, you know what I meant,” he huffs.

“I could set you up with a decent single friend or two,” you nudge his side.

“Two? Shit, that’s just asking for trouble,” he picks at the grass between his legs, tossing it at you absentmindedly.

“They’re nurses, they’d take good care of you.”

“I’m sure they would. Maybe one day, tomato girl,” he laughs. 

“A gift for you,” he leans your way, presenting what looks like grass to you.

Except it’s not grass, it’s a four leaf clover. Some good luck in his future perhaps?

“You don’t wanna keep your luck?” you giggle, laying it in your palm so both of you can get a better look. 

“Eh, you might need it more, I’m already pretty lucky I live the life I do and haven’t gotten in more trouble.”

“I’ll cherish it forever,” you smile at him, leaning against his arm, the bark of the tree starting to hurt your back. 

You both watch as people slowly trickle out of Sukuna’s house, the line of cars parked on the side of the road disappearing after another hour. 

“You want some more vegetables?” you ask him.

“For meeeeee?” he gasps, giving you a fake surprised look.

“Yes you goof,” you laugh. 

“What’s your offer?”

“There’s some radishes and jalapeños over here,” you get up and point to some plants you had been weeding around.

“Well sure if you’re offering,” he smiles, navigating his way carefully through the garden and cutting a few of them off. 

“I’ve got some stuff to do, but would you wanna come eat dinner at my place tonight? I was gonna whip up some stuff with the tomatoes and I can go ahead and make some stuff with these too…you know as a thank you for sharing,” he says as a faint blush appears on his cheeks, spreading to his ears.

“Oh? Sure, why not. Want me to bring anything?” you respond, feeling a little flutter in your chest.

“Bring your favorite wine,” he grins at you. “I’m gonna start cooking at 5, feel free to come by anytime after then. Sounds good?”

“Um, yeah, that sounds great. Thank you,” you suddenly feel all flustered. It’s just dinner with your temporary neighbor.

In his house…but he can’t drive…so this makes sense right? 

What if Cam finds out? 

There’s no way.

You deserve this though. How many times has the man cheated on you and gaslit you into oblivion until you truly believed you were the reason for his infidelity and abusive actions, like no matter what you did it was never good enough?

You deserve to have one nice night with someone who is kind to you. Eating dinner with a friend is not wrong. Hell it’s not like you ever get to go out with your friends back home because of his controlling nature.

“If it’ll put you in a bind with…him, you don’t have to,” Sukuna’s voice jerks you from your thoughts as if sensing your inner turmoil.

“Huh? No, it’s fine. He cheats all the fucking time, god forbid I have dinner with a friend,” you retort, unsure if you are responding to him or trying convincing yourself. Probably both. 

Sukuna grimaces but quickly replaces it with his trademark smirk. 

“Great, I’ll see you later then,” he turns and walks back to his house. 

As you watch him walk away, your inner self is doing cartwheels in excitement. It’s almost like…

You like him. Crushing on the neighborhood delinquent with the mysterious red eyes and the fine ass tattoos adorning that shredded body. The kind hearted boy who’s captivated you in three short days. 

Nah, you can’t be. Like you said, it’s been three days, you hardly know him…right?

***

You were staring at yourself in the mirror, analyzing the third outfit you’ve tried on. It’s not like you brought that many clothes, but you want to look put together and like you put a little effort in!

You can’t even remember the last time you were giddy and excited for something, and that makes you sad, realizing just how shitty your relationship situation is back home, slowly bleeding the life out of you. 

You grab the wine bottle of choice, some popsicles for dessert, and lock up the house, leaving the light on in anticipation of coming back after dark. The walk across the street and up to Sukuna’s porch is over quickly, noticing for once his car seems to be the only one in the driveway. 

You knock on the door and wait, suddenly wondering what it’s going to look like on the inside. You figure it’ll either look like a frat house bachelor pad, or sleek and clean with nice furniture that could only be afforded with drug money.

You’ll soon find out as you hear heavy footsteps on the other side before the door opens up to Sukuna in an apron overtop of a t-shirt and shorts. It catches you off guard seeing him domestic like this, but it quickly fades as his excited smile greets you.

“So glad you came tomato girl, right this way,” he says, holding the door open for you. 

“Nice apron,” you tease as you place the bottle on the counter. The inside is leaning more towards sleek and sophisticated. Black kitchen table, black chairs, black living room furniture, black cabinets, some type of stone countertops, and so on. It’s not what you expected, but you can’t deny he has good taste.

“Tch, thanks. These tomatoes are really juicy and I was worried about getting them all over me,” he laughs, moving to the other side of the kitchen island to fiddle with some pots on the stove.

“So what’s for dinner chef?” you sit at one of his bar top stools across from him, scanning the area around you. Everything seems very neat and organized, you’d never suspect someone with a record lived here if you walked in without knowing him.

“My appetizer, if you will, is chips and pico de gallo. Made the chips myself, aaaaaaand, the pico features your jalapenos and tomatoes of course,” he pulls a bowl out of the stainless steel fridge and places it in front of you. Chips were already out on the counter.

“Wow you make your own chips?” 

“Damn straight, no bagged chips here,” he points his wooden spoon at you playfully. Something about this big strong man wielding a wooden spoon around in this animated way makes you giggle in amusement. Never a dull moment with him.

You take one, dip, and eat, the satisfying crunch loud in your ears. It’s so good, better than any other chip or salsa you’ve had lately.

“Soooo verdict?” Sukuna rests his elbows on the counter and stares at you with wide eyes, eagerly awaiting your response. His backwards baseball hat hides some of his unruly pink locks, giving him an almost frat boy aesthetic.

“Delicious! I’m impressed,” you say, emphasizing the warmth in your words, reaching for more.

“Sweet,” he mutters with a grin. “I know it doesn’t really go with the chips and pico, but I’ve got some homemade tomato sauce going that we’ll eat with meatballs and pasta. The theme of tonight's menu is tomatoes after all, regardless of the meal classification, so I think it fits,” his eyes twinkle with excitement. He seems proud of himself and it’s oddly heartwarming. 

Your mouth is watering because it all sounds and smells so good. This is the last thing you expected him to be doing, whipping up meals from scratch in the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“Actually, yes. First pour us two glasses of your wine, and second, come stir this sauce for me, I need to cut this pasta up.”

“Homemade pasta too?” you gasp.

“Duh, you think I’d feed you inferior boxed pasta?” he smirks as he fishes a wine opener out of a drawer, uncorking the bottle and procuring two glasses. 

“I mean most of the time, men aren’t serving me anything except disappointment, so even boxed would be impressive,” you laugh. 

“Well you’re in for a treat then sweets,” he winks and passes you his spoon. He opts to pour out the wine and sets a glass next to where you are standing. 

Sukuna busies himself with pasta, meatballs, and even some garlic bread while you stir his sauce.

“That’s probably fine now,” he eventually reaches over you to lower the heat, his chest lightly pressing against your shoulder. He’s definitely got some height on you so you don’t even need to duck out of his way.

“Come with me,” he grabs your wrist and drags you towards the back door. Out on his deck you realize there is an abundance of fresh herbs in clay pots.

“You get the basil, I’ll get the parsley,” he instructs, showing you how to properly remove the leaves. 

All of this just keeps surprising you, it makes the butterflies form in your chest again. At this point they might as well just take up refuge there. 

How can you be falling for someone with a record? A drug dealer for god sake! It seems like it has bad idea written all over it. Plus he’s said himself, he doesn’t do long term stuff. 

“Hey!” Sukuna’s voice snaps you back to reality, “I asked if you need any help?”

“N-no, I’m good, I think I got enough,” you stutter, almost convinced he can hear your thoughts. 

“Yep looks good to me,” he answers after coming over to inspect your haul. 

Once back inside, it’s only a little while longer before Sukuna starts plating everything. You are about a glass and a half deep into the wine so you’ve settled at the kitchen table, eagerly awaiting the food.

“Eat up!” Sukuna exclaims as he sets the plates down, joining you at the table.

“Sukuna this looks amazing,” you smile, “thank you again, this was so nice of you.”

“But of course, anything for my neighbor,” he responds. 

“Cheers,” he holds out his wine glass which you gladly clink against with yours. Just as he’s about to take a bite, his phone rings. His playful demeanor instantly turns to one of annoyance.

“One moment,” he gets up and answers.

“What?” he barks into the phone. 

“You absolutely will not come over here, in fact, you can tell everyone that if anyone comes over here tonight I will put a fucking bullet in their leg, got it?” he says in a commanding tone which makes you jump. 

He tosses his phone on the counter and rejoins you.

“Sorry about that,” he sits down like it’s business as usual.

“You can just flip that side of you off and on at will huh?” 

“I have to. Makes it less likely that people will fuck with me,” he explains as he digs in, “it’s just a facade though, like I’d never talk to you that way…unless you wanted me to,” he says with a sly grin.

You practically choke on your food at the bold comment. Up until this point he hasn’t taken his flirty, carefree attitude in that direction, but it churns up some type of feeling deep inside of you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Easy there,” you laugh, kicking him lightly under the table. 

He just shrugs with amusement and takes a long sip of his wine. 

“So when people come over here, are they picking up or what?” you decide to probe at him, the wine making you braver.

“Sometimes. I don’t keep much product here. Mainly people come by to drop off cash or get assignments. I’ve got people who report to me who handle most everything lower level like deliveries and sales. I deal with more high level stuff: managing the finances, figuring out markups and pricing, and coordinating with the wholesalers. I am the boss after all,” he grins, twirling some pasta on his fork. 

“So what’s the plan when it inevitably all blows up?”

“Excuse me? Do what now?” he chuckles while hitting you with a questioning side eye.

“You heard me, I feel like this can only be successful for so long right?” you reiterate.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Well, I guess that would mean I’m either dead, or locked up.” 

“That’s pretty extreme. So there’s no backup plan?” 

“My parents’ inheritance I guess. I’d go back to college with it and get a degree in something I suppose,” he muses.

“What made you drop out?” 

“Honestly my grades were shit. I was in a frat and wasting my parents money partying and fucking off, so they stopped paying and I moved back here. Got involved with my old high school buddy, Toji, with this shit and well here I am, the fucking king.” 

“Interesting. I was just curious,” you set your utensils down, plate completely clean.

“How about you though,” his crimson eyes bore into yours intensely, piercing you so sharply it catches you off guard. 

“What happens when your situation blows up?” he continues.

“What are you referring to?” 

“Your loser boyfriend. The odds aren’t good for women in abusive relationships.”

“It’s not technically abu-“

“Ima stop you right there and call bullshit on that tomato girl. I’m speaking the truth and we both know it. So again, what happens when your situation goes south.”

Your mouth is completely dry, no one has ever spoken about it in this way. 

“I guess similar to you, I’m either dead or in jail,” you retort, causing him to smile with amusement.

“Clever. I like that. Hopefully it’s neither, or at least if you’re in jail it’s cuz he’s dead,” his eyes flick back up to yours. You stare into his gaze, lips partially open as you process everything.

“That sounds so morbid but it may or not be a possibility I’ve mulled over in my mind,” you add.

“Well if you need an accomplice, you have my number,” he laughs, taking your plate and his and dropping them in the sink before coming back to join you.

“What do you say, do you think I should leave this all behind? Start over?” he says in a low tone, swirling the wine around in the glass and watching the liquid slowly settle out. 

“It’s not my place to say Sukuna.”

“Would you like me more if I did?” 

You cock your head at him with intrigue, unsure of what he’s getting at.

“I’d like you just the same. I like you for you right now. That’s why I’m in your house.”

He sighs, tapping his fingers on the table, staring up and away from you both.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, I wanted to settle down with some lucky lady. You think I’d have to stop to have a chance at that?”

You pause, hanging onto his words before answering. Is the wine making him say this stuff? You both hadn’t drank that much…

“I’d say it depends on the lady. If I was going to get with someone like you, yes, I’d probably want you to leave that life,” you give him a playful smile, “but I’m sure there are women out there who’d be content to support you in this life and not expect you to change.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“What about me though, should I leave the man who’s holding me back?” you challenge him.

“Tch, is that even a question?” he rolls his eyes, reaching to rest his hand on yours. Your heart is pounding, thrumming in your ears, making you almost shiver in anticipation. 

“It is, I asked you after all.”

“Then yes, you should.”

“Would you like me more if I did?”

God is it the wine making you say this stuff? 

Sukuna arches an eyebrow in a wordless response, his gaze slowly moving to meet yours before shifting down to your lips and darting back up again.

“Whether you’re with him or not has no bearing on me doing this right now.”

In the moment it takes for your ears to convey his words to your brain, he kisses you. Your eyes widen in surprise, it must have happened in seconds. He’s standing up now, one hand on the table, the other gripping your chin and tipping it up while his soft lips envelop yours. 

The butterflies you’ve become painfully aware of the last few days ricochet around your insides like fireworks in the night sky as you lean in and kiss him back. It doesn’t stop there though, he’s pulling your chair out, cradling you against his chest while you cling to him, lips still locked as he moves towards his living room. 

He falls back into the couch, positioning you so you are straddling him. 

“Sukuna I-“

“Shhh, don’t talk, not right now,” his voice deepens, observing you through lidded eyes. 

And then his large, strong hands are in your hair, gripping your cheek and the back of your head as he pulls you into another kiss.

His lips crash against yours. It’s consuming, claiming, completely losing yourself in him as you force your tongue into his mouth. Sukuna groans against you, meeting you halfway, his soft tongue dominating yours as he deepens the kiss. Your noses brush against each other clumsily as you familiarize yourselves with the other’s movements. 

You feel almost out of practice, you can’t recall the last time Cam kissed you like this. His style was moreso fuck with the most minimal amount of foreplay, and even that was a generous word to describe it. If you do suck at this, Sukuna appears to have no qualms by the way his arms are wrapping around your back, pulling you against him, and devouring the shared air between you.

Your hands find his hair, dragging his hat off so you can thread your fingers through his soft strands. The scent of his shampoo wafts into your nose as you ravenously kiss him back. You shift yourself, groaning as you feel his hard bulge pressing against your groin, catching your clit even through the extra layers. 

“Fuuuck,” he moans into your mouth, starting to nip at your lower lip as his hands wander down to your ass, rolling his hips up to meet yours.

You haven’t felt this alive in literal years, so drunk off the way he nibbles and sucks at your neck while you grind yourself against him. You can feel yourself soaking through your panties, hoping he can’t feel it through his shorts. 

“Lemme go get a condom,” Sukuna whispers, his breath hot on your neck, eliciting a sharp whine from you as the image of what’s to come infiltrates your mind.

Wait, a condom? For sex? He wants to fuck you, god know you wanna fuck him too right now.

But you have a boyfriend, what are you even doing? Acting like a whore? Cam will be furious, you’ll be in trouble-

You start to panic, pushing yourself back from him abruptly.

“What are you doing? You know I have a boyfriend!” your voice cracks as he quickly removes his hands from you, leaning back into the couch to give you the space you were wanting.

“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve that honor,” Sukuna growls in response, his eyes flaring up in irritation.

“You’re taking advantage of me while I’m away from him, you’ve been putting these bad thoughts about him in my head this whole time. You’re no better than him. A criminal, a bad person,” you start to ramble on, freaking out at the thought of the fallout. If he found out.

Sukuna’s eyes flash with pain, your hurtful words piercing through his heart. 

“Right…,” he finally utters, averting your gaze and biting his bottom lip in discomfort. 

“I’m leaving before you turn me into more of a slut than I already am,” you push off of him, leaving him alone on the couch.

“You’re not being a slut! You’re allowed to be treated with fucking respect by someone,” Sukuna retorts, standing up as he follows you to the front door. 

You whip your head around to face him, hand on the doorknob.

“I’m a cheater, no better than him.”

“Is it really cheating when the person who’s supposed to love and respect you is constantly unfaithful and could even be doing so right now? You say it yourself, you don’t even know if you’re exclusive or not. Please, let me show you what a decent man can do, how you should be treated,” his eyes are so full of raw emotion, his hand pushing on the door next to you, partially caging you against it, but still allowing the option to leave. 

You look away from him, tears in your eyes. Everything is so confusing right now, the desperation on his face, the longing for him in your heart, the fear of Cam. It’s all just too much and you need to get away from all of it right now.

You pull the door open, and Sukuna doesn’t stop you.

“Good night Sukuna,” you stutter as you open the screen door, hearing it slam behind you. You move quickly to your parents house, never looking back towards Sukuna, unaware of the way he watches you leave full of hurt and confusion.

For the first time in his adult life, he was considering giving it all up. 

All of this. 

For you. 

The desire to be a better man, the man you never had, the man you deserved, was coursing through his veins. He thought you had felt the same way, what else could you have possibly meant by those questions? It felt like you’d kissed him with such passion and desire, how did this end with him staring at your back as you walked away from him?

Had he read the whole situation this badly? 

No, you had wanted this just as much as him. You break down with the realization as soon as you get inside, back sliding down against the door as you erupt into a sob on the floor. What’s wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just have an ounce of self esteem and break things off for good, let yourself be taken care of by a good man, one who’s been nothing but kind and helpful since you met him. 

You both go to sleep that night thinking of the other, of the night that could have been yours together. 

Day 4

It’s a little harder to get out of bed today. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, yet here you were festering in your own gloomy thoughts. The only thing forcing you up was that the pets needed taking care of, it’s not like they did anything wrong in all of this.

The humidity is through the roof this morning, probably the worst it’s been since you got here. Normally that combined with a bluebird day means thunderstorms in the afternoon, so you decide to walk Macy in the morning to try and get ahead of it. 

You glance across the street towards Sukuna’s house. No extra cars were around and all the shades were still drawn. Based on the last few days, you’d have expected to see him at some point in the morning, but with what happened last night? No shot. That was probably the last of your interactions with him. 

As you continue your walk, you can’t help but feel guilty about everything. You’d felt scared, even terrified at the thought of hooking up with him even though you’d wanted to with every fiber of your being. The irrational fear of Cam finding out and you reaping the consequences had clouded your judgement. 

“Has he hurt you?” you recall Sukuna asking.

Yeah, he has. Your mind wanders to a dark place, recalling the most recent time he was physical with you. You’d gone out with your grad school classmates for beers one night, which in and of itself caused a blowout fight because three of them were guys. Guys with long term girlfriends and fiancés you had tried to remind him, but he wasn’t having it.

The night had ended with you and two of your male classmates being the last of your group after others had left. There was nothing remotely sketchy or inappropriate going on, just friends talking about life and plans after school. Cam however had decided to take matters into his own hands and show up unannounced, furiously locking eyes with you from across the room as the two guys sat across from you.

Things only got worse for you as he made a scene in front of everyone and practically dragged you out of the bar and into the alley, both of you yelling at each other. The fight only ended when he backhanded you across the face, accusing you of being disrespectful and using his favorite line: “and you wonder why I go looking elsewhere when you constantly act like this.” 

This. Merely existing and trying to defend yourself.

This behavior had instilled a crippling fear and anxiety of never truly knowing where he would show up. You wouldn’t put it past him to find you here. Your hometown is your one safe haven, hence why your location sharing has been off. But you can’t wipe the events of that night from your mind, no matter how hard you try.

You take a left down another road that ends with access to a creek, a place you’d loved playing growing up.

Would Sukuna even understand if you explained all this to him? It shouldn’t be his burden to bear, he probably is just looking for a fun fling, not a girl with baggage as far as the eye could see. Hell you wish you could just have a fun, no string attached night, but the devil on your shoulder can’t just let you be at peace.

You sit down in the grass and let Macy off the leash to play in the water. She loves swimming, and seeing her frolic around in the stream makes you happy for a change. Oh to be a dog just doing what you love, no romantic relationships in sight. You pull a tennis ball out of your bag and toss it into the water, watching Macy swim out to it before bringing it back. 

You repeat these motions until she’s had enough, scampering over to you and falling onto her side, panting in the heat. 

“Tired you out huh girl?” you laugh as you ruffle the damp fur on her neck. You both rest for a while longer before you begin your trek back to the house. Sukuna’s house is still devoid of activity as you head back down the driveway.

You give Macy a quick rinse off outside to get the mud and dirt off of her before letting her back in and preparing some lunch.

Turning on the TV after eating, you decide to have a wallow at home kind of afternoon given your mood. You’ll just binge something and gorge yourself on comfort snacks. 

Macy starts whining to go out after about two hours, so you get up to let her out in the yard. As you lay back down, sleepiness suddenly hits you and you drift off on the couch.

BOOM!

You are jolted awake by a loud noise, scaring the shit out of you. You look outside and notice dark grey clouds covering the sky. 

Great, the afternoon storms you’d predicted have come to fruition. The wind is gusting and rain begins to pitter patter on the roof as another roar of thunder shakes the house.

You know Macy is scared of storms, so you call out to her, trying to find her inside. After checking all her usual hiding spots, you are puzzled that she’s nowhere to be found.

Oh my god. 

You remember now, you let her out and then fell asleep!

You throw on your sneakers as quickly as you can, charging out into the yard as another round of thunder makes you cringe away from the sky.

How could you be so fucking irresponsible! 

Panicking, you run around to the back, hoping by some miracle that she’s there. You are only greeted by the wet deluge that pours down on you as the sky opens up, the fat raindrops splattering onto your bare skin almost mocking you at this point.

This is so bad.

You run up towards the street, frantically calling out to her, your voice completely drowned out by the rain, wind, and thunderclaps that have your ears ringing at this point.

After traversing one end of the street, despair starts to sink in. You are freezing, drenched from head to toe, not even knowing where your tears begin and the raindrops end as rain cascades down your face. As you come back towards the house, you see Sukuna’s out of the corner of your eye.

Maybe he’ll help you.

You literally have nothing to lose, so you bound towards his front door, happy to escape the rain under his front porch.

You bang on the door loudly.

“Sukuna! Sukuna it’s me, can you help me!” you yell over the storm, doubting he can even hear you and if he could, if he’d even want to be in your presence. He has no reason to talk to you again.

To your surprise, the front door opens and you are met with the moody version of the fun loving guy you’ve hung out with the last few days. His face quickly morphs into one of concern, opening the door and coming out to join you.

“Jesus what are you doing out here?” he inspects you, brushing water off of your face and arms.

“It’s Macy, I need your help. I accidentally left her out and then the storm started. She’s terrified of them and I think she’s run off,” you are fighting back tears, voice shaking with fear and likely from the chills that are currently wracking your body as the wind slams into your drenched body.. 

“Of course, lemme put some shoes on,” he responds without missing a beat, disappearing momentarily before coming back outside with a raincoat.

“Go back to your house, let me look for her,” he says gruffly, tucking you under his raincoat, arm slipping around your waist and guiding you out into the yard. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, listen to me please, it’s not safe to be out in this,” he says seriously as lightning streaks across the sky. 

“Gimme your car keys, I’m gonna take your dad’s car.”

“What about your license?”

“Hence why I’m taking the other car, no one will know it’s me,” he scoffs, obviously getting annoyed being out in the rain. 

You unclip your house key from the car key, giving it to him. You stand glued in place, staring at him as if paralyzed on what to do next. 

“Go the fuck on inside!” Sukuna has no patience at this point, dragging you to the front stoop and shoving you towards the door.

Time seems to pass at a sluggish pace as you wait. Five minutes turns to ten and before you know it, thirty minutes have gone by with no sign of the storm letting up. 

You almost go to call Sukuna when you see headlights coming down the driveway. Jumping up, you move to open the front door and almost collapse in relief as you see Sukuna carrying a sopping wet Macy in his arms. 

You rush upstairs to get some towels in preparation for the soaking wet mess that is about to come through those doors. You hold the door open for Sukuna to squeeze by you, standing on the doormat, water running down his legs and soaking the rug.

His pink hair looks darker now and completely is plastered to his face, eyes barely perceptible from being hidden by his wet strands.

“Oh my god, you found her! Are you ok?” you dab the towel at his face, wiping his eyes and cheeks before getting his neck and arms.

“As good as I can be,” he mutters, leaning down so you can towel off his hair. 

“Let’s get this mutt to the bathtub and dry her off,” he says. You untie his shoes and help him kick them off before leading everyone to the bathroom.

Not long after, Macy is as dry as she can be and trots off to hide under the kitchen table, tired from her little adventure.

“Thank you so much Sukuna, I-I don’t know how I can ever repay you. That was so selfless. Truly, thank you again,” you look up at him as he heads back towards the front door.

“Don’t mention it, what kind of man would I be to let a girl run around in the rain by herself. I’m gonna go now, stay dry tomato girl,” he ruffles your hair before disappearing out into the storm.

As you watch him walk away, your heart drops into your stomach. He went out in the fucking storm for a girl who hurled all kinds of accusations at him just the night before. Such an unselfish act, putting you first when he had no reason to.

You wish he’d stop, wish he’d turn around and come back. You want him to stay. Your heart burns with the need to be with him, be close to him, to apologize for everything and explain yourself. Hanging out together meant more than you realized judging by the pang of emptiness you felt as the day dragged on without him, like a part of your routine was missing.

A second chance. It’s now or never, seeing how he’s almost halfway up the driveway.

Your legs move before your brain can even send the command. You rush up the driveway, the pavement slick beneath your feet, lightning flashing in your peripheral as thunder reverberates around you. You reach for his arm, fingers slipping on his rain-slicked skin, but you do enough to get his attention as he turns around in shock.

“Get back inside! Are you purposely trying to drown yourself today!” he enunciates loudly over the storm, irritation plastered across his face.

“Come back, come back please,” you throw your arms around him, pressing yourself into his chest, your cheek plastered against the drenched fabric of his shirt. 

You stare desperately up into his face, the lightning illuminating his crimson eyes. Eyes that look troubled, as if trying to decipher your intent, trying to decide if you mean this or if you are just going to rip the rug out from under him again. 

The rain drips down his pink bangs and onto your cheeks as he looks down on you, seeming to study every part of your face.

“You know I want to,” he mutters, voice deep against your ear, “don’t do this to me if you don’t really mean it.”

“I want you Sukuna. Please, let me try again. I’ll explain, just come back inside,” you choke out, fingers twisting into the waterlogged fabric of his shirt.

In response, his lips find yours, enveloping you in a calm reprieve as the storm rages around you both. Nothing else matters, just his arms around you as you convey the desperation that exists for each other. Each brush of your noses dislodges the rain from his lashes and hair, showering you with droplets warm from his body heat. 

He picks you up, hooking your legs around his waist and intensifying his movements. He forces his tongue into your mouth, clashing with yours, exploring the softness of your cheeks and following the ridges of your gums. 

He strides back towards the house, devouring you, lips welded to yours as the wind blown rain pelts both of you.

The cold air indoors sends shivers down your skin as he opens the door, all your senses suddenly present again as the walls shut out sounds of the chaos outside.

“Where,” he groans against your lips, water dripping from both of your clothes and pattering against the hardwood floor.

“Downstairs, guest room,” you utter against his lips, fingers digging into his jaw tattoos as if clinging to him to shelter you from the storm in more ways than one.

Sukuna wastes no time traversing the staircase, kicking the bedroom door shut behind him and pressing you up against the wall, both of you groping and grabbing, tearing the wet shirts off of each other and letting them drop to the floor.

You both pause, his forehead pressed against yours, chests heaving from a combination of your passionate kissing and the chill air that suddenly hits your damp skin.

“I’m freezing,” you giggle, causing him to snort in amusement. You trace his chest tattoos with your finger, feeling the hard muscle beneath you.

“Yeah why don’t we dry off and warm up,” he plants a soft kiss on your cheek as he moves you both over to the fireplace on the other side of the room, setting you down gently on the carpeted floor.

You turn on the propane fireplace while he grabs some towels out of the attached bathroom, joining you in front of the heat.

You’re down to a sports bra and shorts, feeling a little self conscious at being so exposed, but the heat of the fire radiating against your bare skin is a welcome relief. 

Sukuna peels his shorts off so he’s just in his boxers and you take one of the towels and start to dry him off, working from his upper shoulders and down his back. You chase the small rivulets of water that’d collected in the dips and valleys of his back muscles, tracing the ink that follows a similar path. You move to each leg, encountering tattooed rings around his thighs that make your breath hitch, before turning him around to get his front side. 

You end up taking your sweet time as if memorizing the ridges of his chest and abs as you drag the towel down towards his waistband. 

He sits down on the floor, giving you easier access to towel dry his hair. You can’t deny that he looks cute with his pink locks hanging down in his eyes, but he’s soon running his fingers through his hair to give it his slicked back appearance again.

He in turn does the same for you, sliding your shorts off so you are down to your bra and panties, respectfully drying you from head to toe, not missing how his eyes burn a trail down your skin as they rove over every exposed inch like a spotlight in the dark.

Finally, he launches the towels at the wall, leaning forward to kiss you again as the fire illuminates the room, crackling flames dancing in the reds of his eyes. 

“I’m sorry Sukuna,” you say as you both pull away. His mouth twitches, eyes flicking towards the floor before looking back, willing you to continue.

“Last night, those things I said, you aren’t a bad man, you aren’t a criminal, you weren’t doing anything wrong. I wanted everything you were giving me, I was just…I just got scared. I panicked,” you say quietly, staring into the flames.

He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles in a comforting pattern.

“Cam, he has a history of showing up where I am unannounced and giving me hell for it. I don’t know, I just had the thought of him finding me, finding us-“

“I know I asked you this once before, but has he hurt you? Like beyond just words?” Sukuna interrupts you. 

You slowly nod your head, looking down in shame, feeling the tears start to build up behind your eyes.

Sukuna tips your chin up, sorrow in his gaze, caressing your cheeks as his thumbs catching the  damp streaks that inevitably form.

“It pains me to hear that, truly. You know you don’t deserve it right? It’s never justified, and it’s never, ever, your fault,” he says softly, pressing gentle kisses into your forehead. 

“I’m sorry too. I came on really strong, and I should have been more attuned to your feelings, knowing the things you’ve been through. Even if he did show up right now, I wouldn’t let him hurt you, wouldn’t let him lay a finger anywhere near you. You’re safe here with me. I promise.” 

“I know,” your lip trembles as you absorb his words, basking in their meaning. They are more heartfelt than Cam has ever given you, coming from a man you’ve known for such a brief time, even though in this moment it feels like you’ve known him forever. He’s someone you could predict, you can anticipate how he would react to things. Harming you was not a possibility.

“Why me though? You deserve to be with someone without all this baggage, wouldn’t it be easier to just have some fun with a woman that you don’t need to tread lightly around wounds that you never caused?” 

He takes your hands in his, watching how your fingers tangle with his before looking back up at you.

“And I don’t have baggage? I’ve been arrested three times now, move drugs for a living, and have a rap sheet longer than some people’s obituaries. Don’t paint me like I’m a saint, that opioid crisis they are always spouting off about? I make money off of it, people overdose and die because of what I do, what I provide them. The only difference is my baggage is self-inflicted while you never asked for yours.”

“We both can’t change what’s happened in the past, but we can change things for the future, we can help make each other better. Look, I-I know I’ve only known you for what, four days? Which seems like nothing, not even a corporate work week, but you’ve completely turned my life upside down. I know it probably sounds like I’m talking nonsense, but you’ve made me want to change everything, give all this up, and be a better man. 

And those four days, I want them to become 8, then 16, 32, 64 and continue doubling indefinitely into some number that I don’t even fucking know the name of, until I can’t even remember how it all began, just that it began and will end with you.” 

You swear you stop breathing, the air trapped in your lungs threatening to burst. Sukuna, the man you didn’t know you were looking for, found you on the same street where you started your life’s journey having grown up just 10 miles away from each other. Always so close, but never knowing it, you’d been like satellites in each other’s orbit, never finding each other until you needed each other the most. Two broken souls, using shattered pieces from the other to fill the gaps, forever binding yourselves together. 

“Sukuna,” you take a long pause, “I think I love you,” your voice quivers with fear as you utter such vulnerable words.

“And I know I love you.” he hits you with that boyish grin as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before giving you a loving kiss, a kiss that has both of you grinning into each other's mouths, giddy with the excitement of what’s to come.

“I want to continue where we left off last night,” you whisper as you trail soft kisses down his tattooed jaw, earning a soft moan from his throat.

“I’ll follow your lead, go at your own pace,” he sighs as you move to his neck, licking and sucking at his skin, taking your time getting attuned to everything about him.

It’s different being with someone you trust. Normally you’d rush into the main event, hoping to get it over with so you could get away from Cam. Emotionless sex to try and buy his favor for another few hours at best.

But now, you are at peace to just reclaim moments like these, feeling safe enough to actually take the time to appreciate every facet of Sukuna’s body and showing him how much you appreciate him.

You guide him to his back, the flickering flames still providing much needed warmth as your hot kisses make their way to his collarbone. 

“Is this too slow?” you pause, worried you’re taking too long.

“Not at all, love it,” he responds with reassurance.

You continue your exploration of his body, tongue gliding through the ridges and valleys of his muscular physique until you reach the waistband of his boxers that look like they are about to burst from the bulge in their confines. You lightly stroke him through the fabric, earning a sharp groan from Sukuna as his erection twitches under you.

He feels fucking massive, but you’re determined to find out just how large as you coax him to lift his hips. Sliding them off, his hardened length comes into view and springs back against his abs. 

“Holy shit Sukuna,” you giggle in surprise. That’s going to…take some work.

“What?” he grins, palming himself as he sits up to look at you. 

“You know what,” you brush his hand away so you can take over.

“I knowwww, I’ll help you though if you decide you wanna go that route,” he exhales as you wrap your fingers around his thick shaft, slowly pumping his length.

“I do very much want to go that route,” you whisper in his ear as you pump his cock faster, thumb running over his defined head and dragging precum along his skin to help you glide more easily.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, throbbing in your hand as you grip him tighter, loving how vocal he is with each stroke of his cock.

“You’re gonna have to stop if that’s what you wanna do,” he teases, looking up at you through lust filled eyes, reaching out to grab your wrist reluctantly. 

You giggle as disappointment shows on his features when you stop gripping him. 

He strips you of your remaining layers, both of you now completely bare to the other. Picking you up, he moves you to the bed, laying your head down gently on the pillows as he sits back to admire you.

“So fucking perfect,” he sighs as he runs a hand from your neck down to cup your breast, thumb rolling your nipple until it hardens under his touch. He returns the favor to you, kissing and nipping all over every inch of your body, as if mapping it out and committing it to memory. 

“Sukunaaaa,” you say his name between breathless moans as his tongue rolls your nipple in his mouth, the other being worked by his skilled hands. Your hands are in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as he continues his ministrations. 

“Can I eat you out?” 

“Holy fuck yes,” you answer quickly. Considering how fucking good his tongue felt on your body, you could only dream of how it would feel against your soaked core.

You didn’t have to wait long because seconds later his head is between your legs, hair tickling your inner thighs. He’s licking long stripes from your entrance to your clit, already making your hips buck in anticipation.

“You’re sooooo wet already,” he murmurs against your cunt, lapping up everything he can before he dives in for more.

“So-sorry, just, haven’t had this in ages,” you stutter, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

“Fuck, don’t apologize. Also what a sorry excuse for a man to not go down on you,” he grumbles before he starts devouring you.

It’s so messy, so sloppy, the wet, lewd sounds almost echoing off the wall with the way he plunges his tongue into your cunt. His nose brushes against your clit, making you cry out from sheer bliss at the way he’s practically worshiping your pussy, making you feel so fucking good. You can’t look away, his blown out eyes locked onto yours, watching and observing your every reaction. You feel like you might actually rip his hair out with how hard you’re digging in, but he doesn’t seem to mind, doubling down on his efforts every time you rake your nails through his scalp. 

All his attention moves to your clit, alternating between swirling it with his warm tongue and flicking against it in a way you didn’t even know you needed. You grind yourself against him, seeking even more of that perfect friction. 

Maybe you’re extra sensitive because your loser boyfriend never attempts to make you finish, but you feel the orgasm fast approaching and you have no desire to slow it. 

“Sukuna, keep going, I’m close Sukunaaaa,” you whine, losing yourself in the moment. Each perfect drag of his tongue pushes you closer to the edge, a feeling you haven’t felt in god knows how long. 

One last flick from his skilled tongue is your undoing as the orgasm tears through you, crying his name over and over as your hips buck wildly against his face. Sukuna holds you in place when you try to push off, seeing to it that his mouth never leaves your clit as each hot wave of pleasure rolls over you, making you see stars, remembering nothing but the way his name leaves your lips.

He kisses your core one final time before he moves up to kiss your lips. You feel like dead weight, relishing in the post orgasmic bliss as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Damnnn you taste so fucking good,” he smirks, sitting back up, cheeks glistening with your arousal, even covering part of his chin tattoos.

“Ummm I can get used to all of that, that felt fucking amazing,” you sigh, staring up into his darkened eyes. 

“You’ll never go without again,” he grins.

“I’ve got condoms in my toiletry bag over there,” you point to the bag on the dresser.

“Don’t needa tell me twice,” he leaps up, tearing the bag open which has you giggling in amusement at his eagerness. 

“Damn girl,” he holds up the roll of four condoms, letting them dangle from his hand. His naked, muscular body looks fucking divine as the light from the fire flickers against his skin in the dim light.

“I know it seems like a lot, they’re just leftover from buying some while trav-“

“Nooooo, seems like not enough considering you are here for five more days,” he gives you that boyish grin, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The idea of having sex with him four times makes your pussy clench with excitement.

“Might not even be enough for tonight.”

“Sukuna!”

“Relaaaax, I’m joking, sort of.” 

He tears one off and puts the corner in his mouth, quickly rejoining you. As he lays back down next to you, his hand slides up your inner thigh, knuckles brushing against your entrance.

“I said I’d help you,” he mutters through the foil as he slowly pushes a finger into your soaking cunt. It’s sooooo deep, deeper than you could ever reach. 

He works a second one in, gently thrusting in and out, feeling the stretch transition to pleasure with each drag of his digits against your walls. You groan as he curls his finger to prod at your spongy sweet spot, stopping to stroke it a few times.

“That’s it huh?” he gives you a toothy smile, eyes almost rolling when you clench around him.

“Fuck I need to feel that on my cock,” he gasps, quickly pulling out and tearing the packet open with his teeth. He slides it on with no hesitation, nudging his way between your legs.

You feel his tip at your entrance for just a moment as your eyes lock one more time. You give him a small nod and with that, he thrusts his hips forwards, easing his way inside. You both gasp, you at the sudden stretch and him at the feeling of your velvety walls clinging to his tip.

“Hold onto me,” he utters, waiting until you grip his shoulders before starting to work you open with short slow thrusts, letting you adjust as he sinks deeper and deeper. Now you understand his request because your nails digging into his skin is the only thing to counteract the intense, full feeling his thick cock gives you. 

“Fuckkkk baby you’re so goddamn tight,” Sukuna groans as he finally bottoms out, giving you a deep kiss as he pulls all the way out and slowly thrusts back in. You swear you can feel each vein on his shaft through the fucking condom dragging against your walls with how snug of a fit he is.

“I don’t know if I’m tight, you’re just so fucking big,” you chuckle against his lips.

“Ummm, you’re tight, trust me on that sweets, I think I’ve been in more pussies than you,” he jokes back at you while giving you slow, deep strokes.

“And I think you’re big, I’ve had more dicks ins-“ 

“Okay I believe you!” he shoves his hand over your mouth and you both erupt into a fit of giggles.

Sex with Sukuna just feels fun. Playful even, just like his general personality. There’s no pressure to perform a certain way, all the self consciousness you were feeling earlier just melts away, as you both take everything in stride and enjoy getting used to and learning about one another. 

After a few more slow thrusts, you beg him to go faster which he happily obliges, angling himself towards your sweet spot which has you moaning his name.

“Kunaaaaa yes! Just like that,” you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as his cock head kisses you in just the right place over and over.

“Yeah? Right here?” he grunts, speeding up his movements even more, causing your eyes to roll. He hooks your leg behind his waist, plunging himself even deeper into your tight cunt as he drives you harder into the mattress. 

You forgot how good sex could feel, sure the physical was good in its own way, but the emotional security while doing it with someone you care for is unmatched.

You’re truly able to let yourself go and get lost in the other person, forgetting about everything except for each other. That’s how it was with Sukuna right now, trusting him to give you what you need and being open to you telling him what you want.

“Can I be on top?” you whisper in his ear.

“Fuck yeah, get on girl,” he nips at your neck before pulling out, propping himself up on the pillows.

You wanted to feel in control and selfish for your own pleasure for a change, and Sukuna was the kind of man to let you have that. Not like he cared either way, you looked fucking great riding his cock, his eyes glued to the way your tits were bouncing in his face while you angled yourself in just the way you needed.

“That’s it baby, fuckin’ use it, use me,” his hands rest on your hips, letting you be in control while his strong arms help to steady you, the perfect team player. 

“Can you take the condom off?” you whine, wanting to feel all of him.

“Huhhh? Really?” his eyes widen and you swear you feel him throb inside of you.

“Yeah, I’m on birth control,” you slow down and roll your hips a few times while waiting for his response. 

“Shit I’m probably gonna bust in two seconds, but fuck it, I’m willing to take that chance to feel all of you, raw and gripping me like that,” he says, lifting you up, pulling the condom off, and tossing it on the floor.

You realign yourself and take him to the hilt in one go.

“Holy shit! Fuck! Ah-shit,” he hisses, head falling back hard against the headboard with a thud, eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling.

“Oh god are you ok?” you snort at his dramatic response. 

“Maybe, I don’t fuckin’ know, but god fuckin’ move baby,” his eyes are locked onto where you are both connected, mind only focused on one thing. He feels too damn good, his perfect cock gliding through your walls, tip just kissing your cervix as you start to feel the pool of desire within you heating up again.

You become needier, bouncing faster, angling yourself so that his fat tip hits your sweet spot, feeling yourself gushing from the impending climax. Sukuna looks like he’s barely holding on, focusing so hard on…something, probably something strange to keep his composure. His fingers are gripping you so hard, likely leaving marks on your skin.

“I’m gonna cum, help me,” you whine just as the orgasm consumes your movements and you clench around him with no control. Sukuna, being such an attentive partner, takes over thrusting into you from below, letting you ride out the high as your vision goes white from the hot waves of pleasure convulsing throughout your body.

“Fuck oh my god you’re so fucking perfect,” he growls, staring up at you with awe as you start to collapse against him, catching you with his strong arms.

“It’s a miracle I lasted through that,” he chuckles as he starts to roll you both back over, locking your legs around his waist as he slowly starts to rock into you again.

“Do you really love me?” you say softly, staring up into his eyes.

“You know I do,” he groans, his rhythm starting to get sloppy.

“Mmm, I love you too Sukuna,” you sigh, feeling him throb inside of you.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, where do you wannit?” he utters through gritted teeth.

“Inside.”

“Shit.”

“Fucking deep inside Kuna, want you to fill me up,” you moan, rocking your hips against his.

“Goddamn girl, gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he groans and with one last impossibly deep thrust, he unleashes his hot load, hips stuttering as he pumps thick ropes of cum into your pussy. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck as his body finally begins to still, his hair tickling your skin as you cling to him, melding both of your bodies together. Your chests heave against each other as you catch your breaths, Sukuna’s large body pinning you beneath him. 

“Thaaaaat, was fucking awesome,” he finally exclaims, moving to lay at your side, pulling you snug against his chest.

“You have no idea,” you sigh with contentment, snuggling up to his warm body. 

You doze off and on while pressed up against him, his heartbeat thrumming against your cheek and his fingers tracing lazy circles on your upper arm. 

“Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you give him a sheepish smile as you sit up, turning to look at him.

“Tch, l just came inside you and you’re concerned that you fell asleep on me?” he teases, eyes lighting up. He looks genuinely happy and it makes your worries wash away.

“Shut up! Just…didn’t know how you’d be acting after all that.”

“I personally adore knowing I fucked you so good you passed out,” he grins, pulling you on top of his broad chest.

“I guess you did huh, body isn’t used to it I suppose,” you say as you rest your chin on his pecs.

“Hmm, that’s okay, thought it was cute having you fall asleep on me. You’re welcome to anytime,” he replies, his warm words making you want to bury yourself in his chest again.

“Oh I ordered a pizza while you were asleep, it should be here soon,” Sukuna says.

“Thank god!” you are starving and haven't even thought about dinner.

The doorbell rings and Sukuna gets up to grab you a fresh towel to clean up with.

“I’m sorry I should have done this earlier, I can come back to help you clean up,” he says as he searches the floor for his shorts.

“You’re fine, I’ll be up in a bit,” you wave him off, but appreciate the concern.

You clean up briefly and then pull on some sweats and a hoodie, trudging upstairs to join him. You realize you are pretty fucking sore right now, legs feeling a little shakey as you climb the stairs.

The storm must have stopped while you were both downstairs, the last traces of daylight rapidly fading into night as you peek out the window. Sukuna is in the kitchen getting plates and also a glass of water for you. He gives you a drive by peck on the lips before sitting down next to you.

“So what’s the plan,” Sukuna blurts out as he tends to do, he really has zero filter when it comes to saying what’s on his mind.

“What plan?” 

“The plan for you and me.”

“Well I don’t know the plan, but we can make one together,” you chuckle, “what’s at the top of your list?”

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he says bluntly, taking a big bite of pizza while you almost choke on yours. 

“Damn okay tomato girl, don’t puke all over yourself in disgust at the thought,” he teases while you slap his arm, trying to regain your composure. 

“No! It just surprised me is all. Can you do a long distance relationship? I still have another year for my masters at least.”

“You’re worth waiting for. We can video call and shit too, and I’ll come visit you.”

“AND, while you are in school, I can go back to school too. Maybe we can be done close to the same time,” he adds. 

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah, been thinking about it since yesterday.”

“What do you think you’d want to go for?” 

“Probably something with car maintenance and repair. Actually seems to pay pretty well for the area and I already know a lot about working on them. I thought I could finish my business degree and do the apprenticeship at the same time. There’s so many online degree choices now, I should be able to make both work. God knows I have enough money.” 

“I think that is a great idea,” you respond, getting butterflies thinking about the future together. “My parents are going to be in for a shock.”

“Ha, yeah they are. They’re usually alright with me though, hopefully they’ll come around after hearing our plans. No way I’m worse than Cam. Which by the way, you technically have two boyfriends right now, playa,” he winks at you, making you snort in response. 

“I haven’t technically said yes to you yet,” you tease as you pinch his tattooed cheek, “and yes, I will be your girlfriend Sukuna. I’ll also send Cam a breakup text after eating then block him.” 

“Good, I don’t like being the other man.”

“Popsicle?” you ask, getting up to raid the freezer.

“Yes ma’am!”

One popsicle later, Sukuna has whisked you back downstairs and has his head between your legs again, eating the “real dessert” as he called it. He stops to let you send your breakup text, saying he wouldn’t let you cum until you were only his, but after that, the man is all over you until the early morning hours when you finally tap out, unable to keep your eyes open anymore.

Day 5

You awaken the next morning to Sukuna’s arms wrapped around your body and legs tangled in yours. It must be late considering the way the sun is beaming through the window. 

You groan with discomfort, your whole body feels sore and you are absolutely famished. 

“Sukuna,” you say sleepily, shaking him.

“Hmm? What?” he responds in a sleep raspy voice, sitting up and shoving his hair out of his eyes. 

“So hungry.”

“Lemme go get us some donuts.”

Your mouth waters at the thought, a local shop in the area makes apple cider donuts that you miss so much now that you live out of the area.

“What about your license?”

“It’ll be fine, I drive all the time and it’s not an issue. I just gotta be a good boy and not drive crazy,” he laughs. 

You feel yourself about to fall back asleep so you don’t argue. He crawls over to you, planting a soft kiss on your lips before getting up.

“I’ll be back in a bit, why don’t you sleep a little more, you look…quite rough,” he snickers.

“Wow I wonder what could have possibly caused this?” you roll your eyes at him. 

“Hmm I wonder?” he jokes, throwing on a shirt and sweats that he got from his house last night. 

“Love you tomato girl…friend,” he looks so proud of himself for coming up with that, making you groan.

“You are…something,” you burst out laughing, “love you too, see you soon.”

He comes over and gives you a big, crushing goodbye hug. 

“God I wish you could stay a little longer,” he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“It'll all be okay,” you thread your fingers through his hair one more time before he leaves you to bury yourself in the sheets again, quickly letting sleep consume you once again.

You are jarred from your slumber by your phone ringing. You sit up, disoriented, realizing it’s almost 3PM, much later than Sukuna was supposed to be back. Maybe he was upstairs letting you sleep.

You pick up your phone to answer. 

“Hello?”

“This is a collect call from an inmate at the Southeastern Regional Jail, press 7 to accept.” 

Masterlist

taglist: @clp-84 @zeunys @aquaberrydolphin @nynxtea @yuujispinkhair @ssc7514

[avifaunaa]

stars blind [ they fall and leave the sky ] [ pt. 2 ]

Authors Note: I’m so incredibly glad everyone seemed to enjoy the first part of this series! If anyone has requested to be put onto a tag list for this series, I’ll try to remember to add it in. Also to add: apologies for the shorter update -- this is meant to be a bridge between One and Three, so it fills in some gaps.

Masterlist

PART ONE | PART THREE

Pairing: Feyre Archeron x fem!reader x Rhysand / Platonic!Inner Circle x fem!reader

Summary: Feyre and Rhysand find their mating marks that are duplicates to your own — perfect matches — and have a discussion what that means. Amren and Mor make a decision together. Windweaver hides.

Content Warnings: Mating bonds + discussion thereof [ reminder: this is canon in nature, but i take liberties and play around with mating bonds thus deepening the meaning of this AU ], Court politics, mentions of Windweaver’s past trauma that is not directly gone into this chapter, cliffhanger [ sorry ]

Word Count: ~3.7k

You wait in the spacious entry way of the home of Iris — a chirpy blonde High Fae who was incredibly well known for watching children for a fair price while parents worked or tended to other matters.

Mor had been the one to give her a place for you — it was increasingly difficult to get into the daycare and the fact that Mor put in a word for you was a kindness you could never pay back.

You were the last to arrive as you usually were — but Iris never seemed to mind. She understood your position in this new world and was accommodating and it was once more a kindness that you couldn’t afford.

You refused to look at yourself in the large mirror hanging above the entrance to the side. Now that you knew what was engraved into your skin, you would never be able fully hide it. Or escape whatever bond thrummed on the other side.

And yet you felt nothing. Nothing but empty black loneliness when you reached out to where your mother told you mating bonds usually rested in that part of the soul, in that part of the heart, in that part of the mind.

Nothing was there, and that was perhaps the best part of it even when it stung like nettle. It meant that whoever the Cauldron found you worthy to mate with was unaware and uninterested in a bond.

Until they found their own marks, you supposed.

“Here she is!” Iris sang, walking out with Astraea sleeping soundly, drooling on her shoulder.

“Oh, she’s knocked out,” you said with a smile, heart warming soundly at the sight of your daughter. Black hair and pale skin — features of your mother, her eyes belonging to a man long since gone.

“We painted today,” Iris told you as she made the exchange, sliding Astra into your hold. The tiny little thing wrapped arms around your shoulders, snuggling in close and sighing but not waking a second. “Next time you come in I’ll give it to you. Our High Lady will be coming in soon to teach a class.”

“The High Lady?” You didn’t hide your surprise. She hadn’t been seen out since the birth of her son — unless it was to walk through the Rainbow. You knew little around the events of the little one’s birth, other than rumors about wings and pain.

“Oh yes. She decided she’s going to come help out with the children — and bring Nyx, too. He needs socialization with other children his age. But it seems Astra is the closest to it right now.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, a nervous tick unsettling the heart within your chest.

"Oh, that will be wonderful," you say out loud instead of voicing your fears. You had yet to be approached by the High Lord or his Lady about your heritage and Mor and Amren had both been as welcoming as members of the Inner Circle can afford to be to newcomers.

You exchanged a few more pleasantries, your payment is given to Iris, and you are quick to whisk your sleepy daughter off. You are greeted by the chilly air and your scarf does little to keep the bite from your cheeks that comes with the breeze.

The walk to your rented apartment is five minutes from Iris' home and it was nice. You felt like you could easily get everywhere within easy walking distance and not have to use your magic to speed your walking along.

Not that you would have used your magic at all.

You walk up the side stairs on the building, climbing up and up and up until you reach the third floor. Your door was the first on the right and the bulky key was heavy and cold in your jacket's pocket when you pulled it free and pushed it into the key hole, twisting, unlocking, opening.

The apartment was nearly bare. It was furnished with the help of Mor -- thanks to her kindness to you. But it was basic and non-matching. You weren't here all the time -- either you spent time here with your daughter or slept. You preferred to take Astra out to explore the world and enjoy her surroundings while simultaneously exposing her to new things.

Astra's room was the most decorated, the most furnished, and the most cared for. You laid her down in her bed and got her dressed in her pajamas, all the while she hardly woke. She stuffed her thumb in her mouth and sighed as you pulled the covers over her.

You started toward the bathroom, removing earrings and clothes as you went.

That's the mating mark of a High Lord.

You find yourself standing in front of the dingy mirror in the bathroom — which was otherwise beautifully designed. Clean. Better than what you were once used to after Armantha’s takeover.

But when had it appeared? Mating marks were incredibly rare -- to the point that they were often forgotten about in history. They were connected to the more biological parts of Fae -- back when mating was more led by survival and the need to breed. Only those with very old bloodlines had mating marks anymore; bloodlines that predate much of even Old Prythian.

You pushed yourself off the sink, still tracing the outline you found yourself memorizing as you leaned over the tub to get the water started. It felt no different on your skin, had no way of showing itself other than its appearance.

You waited for the water to fill all the way to the top with near boiling heat. You never wanted to touch cold water again — even to drink. You drank it warm or you drank tea. You sank into the tub and shivered as the heat encased your skin and filled all the chilly, empty parts of you.

To have a mark that now only really ran through the lines of High Lords . . . that did not bode well on your end. Mostly because you've seen how angry High Fae males get when females have already been mated once before, but because it would force you to reveal your location to the very people you've been ensuring never find you.

Rhysand was frowning at her, and Feyre did not particularly enjoy it. She was rubbing some cream into her hands and trying to ignore him altogether.

He was all in a fuss lately and as much as she wanted to know what was getting to him this time, she figured he'd tell her if he really wanted to.

She settled under the covers with her book half-opened, getting comfortable against her lower back. After Nyx even with Nesta's wish, she still retained an ache from her pregnancy. It was manageable but not entirely easy to get rid of.

"Feyre, darling," her husband starts, "when did you get that?"

Feyre turns the page of her book before she humors him, tilting her face up. He's sat on the edge of the bed eyeing her, purple eyes twinkling with shock.

"The book?" she asked slyly, shutting it. "Nesta lent it to me. She said--"

Rhysand rolled his eyes. "I do not need to know what sort of filth your sister has you read when I'm not there to chaperone. I can't begin to think."

"It's a female on female romance, with sex."

Rhysand paused, blinked as if shocked, then rubbed his face with his hand. "We will address that at a later time. I have questions I think I will want answers too." He then pointed slightly to her left. "I meant that, just under your ear, of course."

Feyre reached her fingers up to trace under her ear as Rhysand had pointed out to her. She felt nothing but her studded earrings, done sometime after Nyx’s birth. “I don’t feel anything,” she said slowly, raising one of her brows at her mate.

He got to his feet and walked around the side of the bed and held out his palm. “Come with me, darling.”

Feyre hated to get out of bed now that she had gotten comfortable, but she put her book aside anyway and took his hand. He gently tugged her to the mirror on the far corner of the room, twirling her in a circle.

Feyre laughed at him, a bright smile lighting up hear features as he swung her to his front, arms wrapped around her just under her chest. He pressed a warm kiss to her cheek as they locked eyes in the mirror.

“My beautiful Feyre darling,” he said. His gaze was so soft, a rare sight that not many in the lands got to see. He reached up and began moving her hair away from the side of her head he had previously pointed out to her.

“Mm.” She watched him lazily, fingers tracing designs into his arm. She stopped her playing when she noticed what he had initially wanted her to see.

“That’s new,” she said, pulling herself out of his arms so she could lean forward and peer at the twirls and markings that cornered themselves behind her pointed ear. “I don’t think I’ve had that before. Did I?”

He shook his head, rubbing his jawline. “It’s . . . No. It’s an old magic, attached usually to a Fae with an old bloodline when they become mated.”

Feyre stared at him. “Okay,” she said slowly. “But I didn’t get it when we first mated.”

“You wouldn’t have, no,” Rhysand agreed, staring at the mark nervously. “I think . . . Well, I have an idea already on what it could mean and why you have it.”

Feyre turned around and bit her lip, peering at him with just as much nervousness. “I’d love to hear your idea, because if it’s connected to bloodlines that means it’s connected to yours somehow.”

“It connects very old bloodlines, I should say,” he told her, scratching his head as he thought over his words, “From a very old time when we still ran on pure instinct rather than reason. A time where magic was more alive, and it helped us. It would connect bloodlines that were stronger, more resilient.”

Feyre blinked at him. “Are you saying that you’re from one of those lines?”

“All High Lord families are. Many high society families are, actually. It’s how we got as far as we did. The marking wouldn’t have appeared on you initially because you were a human, once, and the old magic that runs in bloodlines like mine is thought by scholars to be being bred out over time.”

Feyre crosses her arms, resisting the urge to reach up and scratch the skin there. It suddenly itched now that she knew she had a shiny new marking there. “That makes sense. So it’s genetic. But it still makes no sense why I have it now.”

“Because I do believe there’s another factor at play.” He folded his hands, rubbing them together and not meeting her eyes.

“Rhys.” She reached her own hand out, hoping her touch soothed him. “Together. We can face whatever this is together — and you can tell me anything.”

“I think we have a third mate out there, somewhere,” he admitted quietly. “This is not a desire I have but a theory. If this potential mate has come into close contact at some point, their scent would have activated the other’s genetic magic in their bloodstream.”

Feyre breathed out through her nostrils, taking in this information carefully. “Old magic that has a play in with genetics. I’m your true mate, but there’s also another one out there for us that shares a bond? Wouldn’t we have known?”

“It’s . . . different with the old magic. It lies dormant,” Rhysand explained as he led his wife back to bed and sat next to her on the mattress. “It only activates when a suitable mate has been scented. Like I said, it ties back to when we were living on baser instincts and our mating bonds were less decided by fate and the Cauldron.”

“So my mating bond to you is different than the mating bond we have with this person?” Feyre clarified, not angry, simply confused.

“In how it is formed carnally only, it will never change my bond with you nor will it make me desire you any less,” Rhysand assured her firmly, cupping her cheek and rubbing the jutted bone, beautiful and perfect in his eyes. “All I know is that we have a third, but because we’ve been out of the public for months . . .”

“It could have been anyone our friends’ scents dragged in,” Feyre finished, understanding. She felt comforted by Rhysand’s words but . . . But now that she allowed the words to fixate in her mind, she couldn’t help but lack anxiety in regard to her stability with Rhysand, only . . . Curiosity. Perhaps a need to understand.

Rhysand smiled sadly. “Yes. And whoever lies on the other end of the bond won’t be able to form a connection to us like we have to one another until we can . . . Consummate the bond, not unless we want to use our Daementi powers on them.”

“Is that more old magic at work?”

Rhysand nodded at her, and Feyre bit her lip. She thought over the entire binder of information Rhysand just threw on top of her. But honestly — thinking it over, it didn’t create an ugly animal of jealousy to think of their unnamed mate with Rhys. Or with her. Or with her and Rhys.

It was a lot, and maybe they needed to sleep a bit over it. To digest what this will mean for them as a couple, and for their dynamic, and for their family.

But Feyre’s gut told her nothing terrible could come from this — not if her mating with Rhysand was anything to go on.

Amren and Mor stared at each other three hours after Windweaver had made a hasty escape from the tavern, leaving them in her dust.

Rita had pretty much closed up around the two of them. She lived upstairs and Mor was someone who was trusted with a key if they stayed longer than Rita stayed open.

It was just them at their table, still sitting in complete silence as though afraid to speak aloud what they had experienced hours ago. What Windweaver had experienced.

“We should tell them,” Amren said for the fifth time as Mor brought the entire bottle of wine to her lips and drank.

“Why? I mean, I agree. Nothing comes from keeping information from our High Lord and Lady,” Mor said, head tilting back over the chair, “But do we want to put this stress on them? They were just discussing coming back out in the world. Feyre wants to take Nyx to meet other kids.”

“She has a mating mark of status. Old status, but status,” Amren ground out, and Mor could almost hear her canines gnashing against her other teeth.

“Yes, this is true.” Mor takes her feet off the table and leans close to Amren. “But do you know what bringing attention to this might mean? What it could do to her?”

Amren spun a ring — one of many and of little value to her, likely from Rhysand back when she was still a darker force much more dangerous than this one — on her index finger, long nail unbreaking against the metal.

“There are consequences to whatever actions we plan to take,” the darker haired female acknowledged begrudgingly. “But I dislike the ones that come with keeping this from Rhysand and Feyre.”

Mor hated to agree, but she couldn’t find it in her to disagree. She wanted Windweaver’s safety put at the top of their to-do list, but they’ll have to find a way to ensure that without keeping their High Lord and Lady in the dark about this.

“Fine,” Mor said, “we’ll bring it up. Tonight?”

Amren stole the bottle from her blonde friend, taking a swig from it. “If the girl’s still awake. She seems to go to bed early these days after the prince was born.”

Mor tapped her fingers along the tabletop. “Fine, tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” Amren agreed.

They stayed to finish the bottle, falling into a silence of two respected comrades and friends.

You wake with a gasp as sweat soaked your forehead and dripped down your temples like raindrops.

You clutched your chest where the weight you felt in your nightmare had struck you and glanced around you rapidly as the heartbeat in your ears timed with the feeling in your chest.

Enclosed walls, four. A wood flooring with a soft rug in the middle of the room. A soft thick quilt, patched, that you gave birth in and carried your daughter around in for two long years before carting her here in it.

Not in the Spring Court. Away from the sickly smell of fresh flowers in bloom all year around and constant lukewarm weather that was too little for you to feel alive.

It was still dark outside, but you could see the hints of dawn beginning to reveal itself over the horizon. No sun.

Your favorite time of day.

You pushed the sheets and quilt off, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes and sighing shakily as you gazed out the window for a moment to just take in the view.

You eventually got out of bed entirely; if you didn't you were at risk for not getting out at all for the rest of the day. That was not a type of day you could afford to have.

You went to the kitchen and started preparing breakfast for Astra, and while the eggs cooked you got her up. "S'ello Mama," she garbled.

"Hi, baby," you greeted, kissing her forehead and smiling warmly as she stretched her little arms out. She blinked sleepily at you. "Eggs?"

"Eggs," you agreed, holding out your hand in offer. She looked at it with hesitation as she normally did when it came to touch; she was not a child who welcomed it on a normal scale and the first two and a half years of her life play a large role in that.

She finally deemed it acceptable to place her tiny hand in yours and you smile at her, guiding her into the kitchen where smoke was now rising in the pan. "Oh no," Astra dolled.

"Shit." You set her in her chair and race toward the burnt crisps that were once eggs sizzling in the pan. You looked forlornly at the charred bits and dumped them in the sink, and instead turned to your daughter.

"Do you want to go to Caspian's for breakfast, Astra?"

Immediately the little girl's eyes lit up and she attempted to stand in her chair, "Cassie! Cassie," she garbled as you quickly went over to grab her and set her down like she wanted.

"Okay," you laughed quietly. "Lets' get you and myself dressed and we'll go see Cassie."

One hour, a toddler trying not to crawl away from every outfit you picked out, and a faceful of makeup later, you found yourself walking down the street with a babbling Astra in your arms. She was fired up now that you were well and truly on your way to her favorite place to eat.

"Oh, really?" you asked her as you passed the glass displays in the large windows. She then stuck her finger at the particular pastry that was always displayed and remained her tried and true favorite.

You opened the door and pushed your way in, causing the bell above the entrance to ring out your arrival. It was a busier morning than usual -- you tend to come before the rush so that Astra doesn't get overwhelmed, but for some reason today you weren't able to beat such a rush.

You were behind two people; both of them were huddled together and had a small babe between them. A male and female, whispering to the giggling, pudgy faced youngling.

"Windweaver!" Cassie called as she came at a brisk drift out of the kitchen, covered in sugar and flour, "Welcome! And little Astra, too!"

Just as you made to greet her back, you were cut short by the couple turning around and looking you in the eyes.

"Windweaver?" The High Lord of the Night Court repeated softly, tilting his head in interest while his wife narrowed her gaze at you.

TAG LIST: @motorsp0rt , @lifetobeareader , @hjgdhghoe , @mystirica-blog , @skyler129

PART THREE

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ

Saving You.

Short Summary: Returning to Hogwarts didn’t go quite as expected. You soon realize as to why Tom and Draco tried keeping you away from the only place you were sure to be safe at…

Warnings: violence, death, torture (not too descriptive)

A/N: Three long months have passed… thank u everyone for being patient! I know this is pretty short, however… there will be one final part!! (Which hopefully won’t take me three months to write🫠)

wordcount: 1,5k

Read PART 1 and PART 2 before! <3

Darkness. Silence. Hopelessness.

Feelings you wished to leave behind when you exited the cabin and made your way through the woods, returning to the only place you thought you’d be somewhat safe—Hogwarts. 

Yet, when you did, everything had changed.

Hogwarts was no longer the sanctuary you knew it to be. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were long gone, off to find the remaining Horcruxes. The Order couldn’t resume their work as before under the rule of death eaters at school. However, the issue that was most difficult to overcome proved to be the certification of blood status—something you, being muggle-born, of course, didn’t have.

Many people told you to leave and return home to your family. Yet, you refused and faked your blood status in order to be able to attend school. For you, it was never about education, it was about doing what’s right—trying your best to support the Order in every way you could.

To questions on where you had been, why you had disappeared for weeks, you only replied with made-up excuses. Excuses they luckily didn’t question any further.

Weeks passed—weeks of emotional stress, hiding, making yourself as small as possible. Defence Against the Dark Arts class was the worst. The Carrow twins did not take it easy on students. Practicing dark arts, having older students torture first-years. And if you did not follow their command, you’d be the one taking the curse instead.

So, when your body ached at night, keeping you awake, your mind wandered. Thinking of your time in the cabin, where yes, you were lonely, but you were safe. Safety—something they promised you by staying with them. And now—you understood what they meant. What they tried to indirectly warn you about.

Tom and Draco—who you once thought to be your enemies—had tried to protect you from all of this.

But now—you were on your own. Ever since you left the cabin, you had not seen them again. They didn’t show up to classes, never sat in the Great Hall for dinner—until you realized they weren’t there at all.

Tom and Draco were quick to take notice of your disappearance. At first, they tried looking for you, though soon they realized it was too late, that you had already made it back. Would you have stayed if they had informed you about what was going to happen? They both knew you wouldn’t have, that it would only have made it worse. After all, that was what they liked about you—your unwavering loyalty to your closest friends.

So they let you go.

A decision they regretted as soon as both of them were told they would no longer be able to visit classes—not until the war was won from their side. With the Vanishing Cabinet fixed, they had other, more urgent tasks to tend to outside of Hogwarts. This meant they couldn’t keep an eye on you, even if they wanted to. Knowing your non-magical background and that you would be in constant danger made the thought of leaving you alone even harder to tolerate.

Yet none of you knew that your reunion would come sooner than anticipated.

Soon after the trio returned, informing the rest of the Order about the remaining Horcruxes, chaos broke out. Many of the younger students had already left, and while Harry tried finding the last Horcrux hidden inside the castle, professors and students put up resistance against advancing forces. You too tried your best to help, heading deeper into the castle to cover another entrance—by yourself.

And you were almost there—when a pair of strong arms pulled you into an empty classroom before you could react properly. With your wand raised, ready to defend yourself, you took in your surroundings, only dimly lit by the last few weak sun rays on the horizon. But the moment you saw who it was, you lowered your wand again.

Tom. Draco.

“What— what are you doing here?” You stammered, taking a step back.

They were wearing the same clothes they wore on the night you followed them into the forest, a painful reminder that you were fighting on opposite sides.

Tom was the first to speak. “There is a lot we have to talk about—first and foremost, you left. Why you were able to leave—is on us,” his head turned slightly, a dangerous glow in his eyes as he glanced at the blonde, “on Draco, to be exact. However, you didn’t follow our instructions. Again.”

“You left me in the dark about all of this,” you snapped, brows drawing together in irritation. “You can’t expect me to stay if I don’t know what is going on.”

“Telling you wouldn’t have made you stay,” Draco remarked, his expression softening slightly.

You scoffed, turning around to leave. You had better things to do than to argue. Knowing them, it could have very well been a distraction or another trap. Although they had shown you their true intentions by now, you still found yourself too weary to trust them completely.

A firm hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Tell us. Tell us to get you out of here, and we will. Draco and I will take you somewhere safe. I don’t beg—but for fuck’s sake, please. Please let us protect you.”

The genuine sincerity in Tom’s voice told you all you needed to know. Their intentions were pure. However, you couldn’t leave. The Order needed you, needed every person they could possibly have. Your decision had been made a while ago, and they wouldn’t be able to change it, even if it guaranteed your safety.

“I am staying. You know they need me.” You exhaled deeply, eyes flicking between the both of them. They exchanged a glance, yet didn’t interrupt you. “Whatever happened between us isn’t going to influence my decision. I want to stay and fight. For my friends, for the people who took me in when no one else did. I am free to choose—and I choose this.”

Tom’s jaw clenched and Draco’s blue eyes darkened at your words. “That you are.” They agree, but the words tasted bitter as they spoke them. “We will be watching over you.”

You raised a brow. “Surely they need you on their side.”

Draco took a step forward. “Sweetheart, if we were on their side, do you really think we would try everything in our power to save you from this?”

Your head turned slightly as you heard someone call your name down the corridor, most likely looking for you. A sigh fell over your lips. You could do this. You were determined. Even if this was the last thing you did, it would be for a good cause.

“I have to leave. They need me.”

When they didn’t respond, you turned, leaving them behind. A cool breeze hit you as you exited the classroom, making sure nobody was close before you continued your way.

It wasn’t long before the guards outside were broken, forces entering the castle. You fought bravely alongside others, defending everything that was dear to you. And it worked out well—until it didn’t.

You don’t exactly know how it happened—but you were by yourself. Facing two death eaters at once.

Naturally, you tried backing off, finding a place to hide. You could very well duel one, but two? It would take advanced dueling skills for you to win this match unharmed, and while you were by no means a bad duelist—you were missing the courage to do so.

So you turned, hurrying your way through the dark and empty corridors as quickly as you could. But they were too fast, and you, already exhausted from the ongoing fighting, didn’t have enough energy to escape. Curses and spells were fired after you, some of them only narrowly missing you. One lucky aim later, and there was only one of them left following you—though the relief wasn’t meant to last.

The second caught up too quickly, and before you knew it, a curse struck you from behind, having you trip, knees hitting the floor as you fell, curling up as an agonizing wave of pain spread through your body, making it impossible for you to move any further.

Then, he was there, right beside you, victoriously aiming his wand at you.

That’s it, you thought.

It’s over.

—“Avada Kedavra!”

But the curse never hit you. You were breathing. You were alive.

Instead, the death eater’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground with a loud thud. Your eyelids fluttered open then, but your surroundings were blurry, ears ringing as your consciousness slowly faded.

The last thing you remembered was someone carefully scooping you up, strong arms carrying you away from the scene.

“Shhh. We got you.”

Then—darkness.

Tags for part 3: @leviathans-fish, @riddleswhcre, @poppetbaby02, @mageprincess7, @charliegracebrown, @grandeoatmilklatte, @juliet-017, @shinytalent, @noisytravelerpizza (genuinely I am sorry this took so long I LOVE YOU THANK U FOR BEING PATIENT and I promise pt 4 won’t take this long and be… more interesting🤭)

[meathunt]

Vampire dads idea :>

TW Yandere, forced transformation, in a way, kinda parental neglect?, light kidnapping ------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------ You open your eyes.

Everything is too much, the sounds, the smells, the lights. It feels like it's attacking every nerve in your being. You try to drown your discomfort by holding the ends of your soft sweater harder, is not really working, but at least it distracts you from that hollowness in your chest.

You close your eyes, leaning on the wall of the alleyway you are currently hiding in, letting the cold air of the night bring you some comfort.

It was the first time you were out of your apartment in a month, still being able to remember the night your life went to shit.

You were just finished the shift that you traded with a coworker, making decent money as a waiter in an upscale restaurant. And you were happy to go back to your apartment and proceed to past out on your bed.

That's when the sensation of being watched started. But you were in an active part of town, so you decided to just speed up your pace to get home and don’t really worry about it. After all, who would try to attack you with so many people around?

You felt confident on that decision, until someone grabbed your arm, and trying to look at the one doing it was the last thing you remember for a while. Next thing you knew you were sitting at a bar, in front of a drink that smelled way more flammable than drinkable.

You were just about to get up when a smooth voice captured your total attention. "Hey sweets, finish your drink, weren't you thirsty?" for some reason you couldn't really focus on the strangers face. But their eyes, those deep wine eyes stayed with you.

Swallowing, you thought your throat was very dry, and next thing you knew, you were downing a drink once, twice, until you lost count of how many glasses you had. When you next regained awareness you were in your bed, and everything was spinning.

"I think you are nice and ready for me Sweets?" The nice voice was with you, and something cold was sneaking around your chest, and it grabbed at the collar of your shirt, playing with it before tearing it open.

"A sweet lil' drink, just for me, how lucky" and with that, you felt your neck being stabbed twice, two sharp things buried themselves on you, and an explosion of pain assaulted your senses, your mouth locked in a silent scream as you could feel how your cheeks dampened by the tears and cold sweat from the pain.

A chilling coldness started to envelop you from your core, and slowly grew, overtaking every part in your body.

Weakly trying to fight the person on top of you, but being unable to do much, and the last thing you heard before being swallowed by darkness was a mocking laugh. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

The next time you woke up it felt terrible, your whole body hurt, and you felt in a constant state of fever, with a killer headache to seal the deal.

Everything felt too much, the clothes on you felt like sandpaper caressing your skin, you swear you could hear the water flowing in the pipes on the walls, the sunlight coming from your window felt way too bright and hot. It was overwhelming, but worst of all there was this hollowness in your chest that was growing and threatening to swallow you whole.

Something important was missing. You knew it in your bones but you couldn't determinate what. And that sensation was all consuming. Small sobs escaped from your dry throat and a broken kind of chirp came from your chest.

Just once.

And there was no answer.

That fact destroyed your declining mental state. Suddenly those strange sounds were cutting between your wails growing more desperate by the second.

The weird animal instinct inside you grew desperate for an answer that never came, you weren't sure how long you stayed there crying your eyes out until you tired yourself out enough to fall asleep. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

The next few weeks were nothing short from hell on earth.

Soon you felt hungry, and trying to stand up was a task of its own, you felt like you lost control of your motor skills, at the point that it felt like you were re-learning how to walk.

When you finally reached the kitchen, the humming of the refrigerator grating on your ears, and the smell of food both overwhelming and alluring to you. Almost in animal desperation you ate the left overs you had with gusto. When you felt satiated enough your eyes started to feel heavy.

That broken chirp coming back against your wishes, and a new wave of sadness enveloped you. A constant "scared, scared, alone" in the back of your mind. Dragging your tired body back to your bed while the tears threatened to fall down your cheeks. Picking a faint scent in one of the pillows in your bed, and your body launched itself to it. Bringing that stupid voice in the back of your mind to a stop. Some kind of relief washing down you, and with shaking hands you hugged the pillow closer, almost instantly falling asleep. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *. At some point of the week you accidentally destroyed your phone, too loud with pre-programmed alarms, it didn't survive being thrown at a wall.

It wasn't until the middle of the second week that things stopped being so overwhelming to the point of freezing you in place. Now they were just overwhelming enough to give you problems thinking, count your blessings right?

You decided to get rid of the uncomfortable clothes you were in, choosing a soft and fluffy sheep themed pajama that you usually saved for when it was really cold outside. But that cutesy white texture was the only thing in your closet that didn't make you want to crawl out of your own skin, plus it gave you some kind of comfort.

By the end of that week a thirst was starting to grow on you, but it didn't matter what you drank it wasn't satiated.

That was until the end of third week when you tried to cook something for yourself, it was a complete disaster. And you didn't finish even cooking the vegetables.

But after a crying fit you realized something smelled...... nice.

An odd thing to notice when you failed so miserably at cooking anything substantial, but trying to follow that lead you ended up in front of the block of raw meat that was finishing de-frosting on the counter. Its mere sight disgusted you, but your body was telling you to eat it, that you needed you satiate the thirst.

You resisted, even from the cloud that currently was your mind you started to think that you were starting to lose your mind to even consider doing it.

You cracked at the beginning of the fourth week, the thirst being just too much. Accompanied by pains all around your body and a realization of how sensitive your teeth and fingers started to become.

At the end of the fourth week you felt very out of it.

The scent that you found on your first week was completely gone from the pillow, a fact that every time you remember, you started to tear up about it.

Your food supply also slowly started to disappear until you had to resort to eating raw vegetables. Something that definitely was not sitting right in your stomach, if puking that morning was any sign.

That bring you to your predicament.

Looking like you were sick, your skin being flushed but looking very pale, your legs shivering from trying to stand up for a long amount of time. Red and puffy teary eyes that weren't focusing correctly on your environment. Hiding in an alleyway in your pajamas because you tried to go to the store to buy more food, but underestimated how overwhelming everything outside was.

The sights, the voices, the new smells made you feel very on edge and anxious.

Like you weren't safe.

Like you were lost.

Like you were so terribly alone.

That stupid sound bubbling inside you, while you tried to contain it. Biting your tongue and pushing it down as best you could. It's easy, you reminded yourself, just one foot in front of the other, and to go back to your apartment, food can wait till tomorrow.

While you were trying to hype yourself up, a sudden, overwhelming feeling started to cover you. As if you were being watched. Your breathing hitched and you tried to scan your surroundings to no avail. You can't hear anything out of the normal thing you were already hearing, but you are sure you felt something near you.

A sound cached your attention, but before you could even try to look for the direction it came from, someone grabbed you and pushed you against the end of the alleyway.

"Do they not teach you new-bloods any manners?"

A towering figure stands before you, broad shoulders and wavy dark blond hair, a full beard adorning an intimidating face. You can make out some scars in the hand that holds you by the collar of your shirt. Deep amber eyes pin you in place.

He has an air on him that screams danger.

The voice in your head telling you that you are completely outmatched by this man, internally screaming danger, danger, alone, scared, help-

"Hey, I'm talking to you" He says with an authoritative tone, making you snap out of your inner monologue and instinctively coil on yourself, or at least attempt to. His hand goes to your chin. Forcing your head to the side to get a better look at your neck “Really, who even is your maker-“

His eyes stay stuck looking at the fading mark that is barely visible at this point where the bite mark was made. You can feel him gaze scanning you from head to toe once more, and his grip on your collar started to soften.

He starts asking you more questions, one right after the other about things you don’t understand, too overwhelmed by everything happening, the adrenaline that was rushing through your body starting to disappear, the situation eerily similar at the one with the man that did this to you.

Your eyes filled with tears and those chirps came back full force, mixing with your whimpers and sobs.

Those sounds took the man by surprise, his eyes turning more soft and he let go of your shirt completely, and proceeds to lift you, cradling you to his chest and rubbing circles while shivers wreck your frame, your sobbing turning to all out wailing. “Hey, hey buddy it’s okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, I wasn’t expecting a kid like you being here all alone. Hell, you shouldn’t be here, period”

You feel terrified of this man, threatened even, but it has been so long since someone held you like this, your instincts fighting between the longing for security and comfort with the consuming fear of someone that you don't know getting closer to you. At the end you go almost in autopilot, nuzzling into his chest while trembling like a leaf.

He takes out his cellphone and starting to walk out of the alleyway. He calls someone, but you feel a bit out of it to really understand what was being said, just small parts, Thomas…surprise.... abandoned.... home..., drowned by the sounds of everything around you.

Yeah, you would like to go home, the sounds of the streets in the middle of the night are getting to you, and in reflex you try to hide deeper into the man's chest. A hand comes, running his fingers in your hair while he finishes his call.

"It's okay buddy, we are getting you somewhere safe" You feel tempted to trust him.

.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

After what feels like a blink you land on a balcony.

You feel less overwhelmed, this place is way more quiet, without overly bright lights or overwhelming sounds and smells, just the lingering scent of the man carrying you and another one that makes you squirm in place.

Now that your mind feels a bit clearer.  You don't even know the name of the guy that has been carrying you around like you weighted nothing.

"H-hey, uhm.." your voice feels scratchy from disuse. He turns to look at you, and smiles. before you can ask he answers" Elias" "What?" "My name, I'm Elias Cromwell, sorry little thing I haven't asked, what's your name?" He asks softly

You are a bit taken by surprise at being spoken so nicely from the guy that gave you quite a fright when you first encountered him. " I'm (Y/N). Can I ask, err, where are we?"

"Well kiddo, we are at my house. And you" He boops your nose "Are about to meet someone very special"

Elias slides the glass door to enter the house and instinctually you straighten up, the second scent that doesn't belong to Elias feels even more oppressive. You cling harder to him, almost clawing at his back, looking up at him in fear.

“Well, who is this cutie Elias?” A warm voice speaks from behind you, and you feel someone going to pick you up from Elias arms. You instantly start squirming in place, those annoying broken chirps start once again, you are scared, you just found someone to hold on to, and that security is being taken away from you, the tears start forming in your eyes, you hold on to Elias’s shirt while trying to bury your face into the crook of his neck “Woah! Hey buddy”. The tears start to prickle your eyes, for some reason you are way more emotionally sensitive than usual, and that little scare is almost enough to throw you into a crying fit. “Everything is okay kiddo, it’s just a friend, remember?”. After a bit of silence without an answer you hear the other person sigh and start walking away. You almost feel relieved until Elias starts to follow them. After a minute of walking, enough for you to, somewhat, calm down, you hear a door opening and you enter into a room, if outside felt that it wasn’t very bright, in here is way dimmer, just one light that give out a warm soft glow to the room, but not enough to really see well your surroundings. Elias sits on the center of the room and you feel the presence of his friend getting near you, a cold hand starts to softly scratch at your head, making you try to bury yourself deeper into Elias arms “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you. Could you let me get a look at you?” The second voice asks.

You shake your head no, but feel how Elias starts to lower you down, you chirp again in a panic trying to hold on again, but before you can even try, a cold hand grabs yours while you are being sat on the soft floor. “There, there” Thomas hand comes up your cheek cleaning your tears as they fall. “There is nothing to be afraid of honey” He lets go of your hands and bring his hand to cradle your face, making you look up at him, he is smaller than Elias, slimmer too, long strawberry blonde hair framing an elegant face, a fanged smile directed at you, his eyes feel like they are swallowing you up, that bright vivid red almost shinning in the dim room, it makes the instincts in you try to get away, but his gentle hold turns a bit more forceful, holding you in place. “I know you are feeling fussy baby, but you need to start behaving, I won’t have any of my children behaving like brats” That gets you to freeze for a second, what does that mean? His child? But you are an adult! “Really, you should be grateful” He continues, not really carrying about the look of fear that crosses your eyes. “It’s obvious the vampire that was taking care of you, was doing a poor job at it. Just look at you! Almost just skin and bones” You did feel like you lost some weight, a bit expected seeing how your diet ended up the last weeks. “But everything is okay now” Elias says behind you, and pushes you a bit so you end up in Thomas lap. “You are home after all” Thomas says while hugging you.

You want to fight, you really do, but you are so tired, you have already been having a bad time on your own, and all the emotions from tonight are getting to you. The small voice in your head relishes in the fact that you are not alone anymore, even if you don’t know the people that are holding you so sweetly, but that can be a problem for the future you. The present you can feel their eyes start to become heavy and with a hand guiding your head to the crook of Thomas neck you decide that maybe a nap can take priority in this situation. Completely unaware of the smiles adorning the faces of the two vampires holding you, having at last found the perfect little addition for their small family.

------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------

[somehowukook]

(On going) Jungkook fics that totally worth the wait. PT. 2. *:･ﾟ✧

I decided to share some ongoing FFs that I’m completely obsessed with. This is the second part.

Minors under no circumstances can interact with my posts.

Hey guys, 💞

Now I’m back with fic recommendations that are absolutely worth following in real-time.

Also, I’m planning to release a teaser of my own fanfic next week, and this is a way for us to get to know each other better until then!

Without further ado…

Let’s go!

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Dextrocardia by @jeonstudios

cop!jk x f detective!reader, undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, [a] [f] [s]

“She’s been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you’ll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this.”

“What?!” It’s Jeongguk’s upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

One of the best plots, one of the best themes, and one of the best reading experiences I’ve ever had. Smart, essential, and full of layers—that’s the tone of this story. There was one chapter where I just couldn’t stop pacing back and forth around the house while reading. Dextrocardia is nearing its end, and I’m going to miss it so much! @jeonstudios is one of my favorite authors and has already written stories that rank in my all-time top favorites. It’s worth reading EVERYTHING! Her Patreon is worth every cent!

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Bad Decisions by @alphabetboyluver

Smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds)

It’s simple: write your deepest, darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on Jungkook’s ceiling. When they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap Daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. Set it free.

The issue? You have a fear of intimacy.

Jungkook, a fear of rejection.

And you both have the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions.

I LOVE BD. I LOVE HOW THIS JK THINKS HE’LL DIE IF HIS CARNAL DESIRES AREN’T MET. He is the personification of my perfect man—everything he does is incredible, and I swear, I can’t even explain how BD is worth it. I LOVE HOW THE OC IS SO HEADSTRONG AND HOW I LEARNED SO MUCH ABOUT SELF-LOVE FROM HER. Look, I discovered Holly’s writing through Throttle (complete and incredible), and I was instantly enchanted by her work. Honestly, if I had money, I’d open a publishing house just to sponsor and publish her books. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out!

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死 KKANGPAE by @jungkoode

enemies to lovers, slow burn, gang au, angst with smut, fuck buddies, forbidden love, secret relationship

When you join Kkangpae’s Seduction Division, you know the rules: no attachments, no relationships, no exceptions. The consequences are fatal—you’ve seen them firsthand. But rules become complicated when the Chief of Tactical Assassinations keeps looking at you like you’re his next target, and not the kind he takes out with a sniper rifle.

Alright, I’ve already made it clear in my first fic recommendation list that Kiki is brilliant, and you probably know it by now… Besides writing and creating incredible universes and deeply layered characters with impeccable psycho-behavioral construction, she’s also an amazing and kind person—and her fanarts, help!But enough about her, or I’ll never finish… Now let’s talk about this MASTERPIECE that is KKangpae! I am completely WEAK for Jeon, and this OC? Oh God, this woman can break me, and I’d still say thank you! This slow burn (Kiki’s specialty) is so sensual, so good, and so nerve-wracking that it makes you roll on the floor in a fetal position after every episode. Just read it.

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Stuck with you by @focusonkayjay

Computer sci major/shy/nerdy!Jungkook, econ major/popular/influencer!reader, college au, roommates au, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

Jungkook’s a hopeless romantic—emphasis on hopeless more than romantic. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he swore he heard bells chiming, like the angels from above were giving him a cosmic nudge. But he’s always been the awkward, nerdy guy—the one who blends into the background—while you? You felt like a dream way out of his league. Fate, however, had other plans and now, you’re his roommate and living with you—in all your effortless glory—is equal parts chaos and heaven. The only challenge? Keeping his ever-growing feelings in check. That is—until a cocky fuckboy with not-so-pure intentions sets his sights on you, and suddenly, just loving you from the sidelines might not be enough.

I found Chers page through one of my favorite fics, Between the Ride and the Roses(which I think you should read). Since then, I’ve been following her work, and this latest release—seriously, I was so happy I read the first episode before making this recommendation list because it’s TOTALLY worth it! This socially awkward JK, with the purest heart in the world (and some self-esteem issues), will win you over in the very first description, and I just hope this precious soul doesn’t get hurt because, honestly, I’d destroy the whole world if anything bad happens to him. Seriously, he is so precious. MY SHAYLA

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Server Room by @mister0ctopus

Smut (X), Office au, Mini Series

Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

How do I say this without sounding crude? Well, I hope you don’t think I’m crazy, but the server room scene is 🔥🔥🔥🔥, and it left me wondering for wayyy too long —what if it were me???? Well, I probably wouldn’t survive this JK doing THAT while moaning my name.

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Not Ideal by @koojks

Grumpy jk, slight angst and eventual smut. SMAU + Written

Jeon Jungkook has made one thing clear: he has no interest in working with you. He barely tolerates you in the friend group as it is. But with a project on the line, avoiding each other is no longer an option.

Through a Tumblr interest recommendation, I discovered Via and got completely hooked on Not Ideal. I’m OBSESSED—I need to know why this JK is so closed off, why he keeps picking on our OC, what he does when he goes out, what he eats, why he acts so nonchalant about everything??? Baby, I need to know!!!!!

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Hope you like it! And please, let’s keep in touch—I LOVE chatting with you!

[k3nz1ekorn]

A Cabin in the Woods

Summary: super short post-canon Jayvik fluff based on what Harry Lloyd said in the Q&A today about them living happily in a cabin in the woods.

Can be read as a stand alone or as a continuation of Real or Not Real.

word count: 1,472

A/N: I know it's not the actor's au but the writers block has been going crazy recently, it's in the works though!

The sun was shining through the windows, bright light flooding Viktor and Jayce as they lay in bed in their little cabin. It wasn’t much, but then again they didn’t need much anymore. They had a small kitchen by the front door, and a little table for then they decided to make food. They didn’t have any of their previous bodily needs anymore; eating, using the bathroom, they were all just things of the past. They had a bathroom for cleaning themselves of course, having a simple sink and shower. There was a large cat tree by the couch, a wall of all their favorite books, ones from their own reality as well as recommendations they’d gotten in other ones. Their bed was large, situated on the farthest wall of the two room cabin, and surrounded by nightstands on either side to hold their respective braces when they slept. 

They still had their disabilities, though they hadn’t shown up for quite some time, and neither was sure exactly how it all worked. How they could not have bodily functions but still having their physical issues. That was a discovery for a later date though, at least it became one once they figured out there was no danger of further injury or death.

It was decidedly a lazy day for them, the arcane had made the decision to leave them be it seemed and they would never turn down the chance to bask in the calm of their little pocket dimension. 

When the rune had exploded they had both thought themselves dead, and it had been a long process for them to come to terms with two very daunting truths. 

One, they weren’t gone, at least not their souls. They had initially floated in the nothingness they’d first been spat out in, and through time and effort they’d been able to figure out a way to spawn all this. They’d created a little world for themselves, a forest, with a waterfall, a little stream, meadows, even a forge and lab to tinker in during times like this. The limits of their physical location and surroundings were about as open and endless as the realm itself. They could be whoever they wanted, whatever they wanted.

That brings us to the second truth they’d had to come to terms with.

They were in love.

When they had first materialized they had just held each other, too afraid they would disappear, that they would drift apart and wouldn’t be able to get back to the other. Then they had talked. It was a conversation that at the time felt like far too much too fast. They had barely accepted that they were still conscious, nevermind together, and yet they still needed closure. Needed to be sure, finally certain, that their feeling had been requited. 

After that they’d held each other just to be held. Just to love like they hadn’t been able to in life.

“Coming back to me anytime soon?” Jayce’s voice broke Viktor’s train of thought and he turned his head to face his partner.

“Just reminiscing, that's all.” 

Viktor was on his back, one arm laid across his stomach and the other bent up to hold Jayce’s hand, the arm of which was tucked under his pillow. Jayce was beside him, of course, turned on his side with his other hand tracing patterns along Viktor’s face and neck, absently tracing over the moles there.

“‘Bout what?”

Viktor thought for a moment, his eyes holding the beautiful golden ones on the face in front of him.

“You love me…real or not real?”

A look of recognition crossed his lover's face and a soft smile melted over his face. They had done this when they were first spat out, and many times since when the nightmares and flashbacks got to be too much. The hand tracing over him came to a stop, moving to cup Viktor’s cheek.

“Real. Always real.” They stayed like that a moment before Jayce continued, he always felt the need to when Viktor asked that question. “There’s not a version of me out there that doesn’t love you, you’ve seen it firsthand.”

This was true, of course. The arcane made sure of that. When it chose to, it would scoop them up and spit them out in some random dimension, with new versions of themselves each time. 

In one they were nemeses, Viktor having gone the machine route instead of the magic route when his body had started to fail him. In this universe he’d augmented himself almost entirely, being made of mostly wires and cogs, leaving only small bits of flesh on his face and mid-section area. Jayce held the title ‘Defender of Tomorrow’ here, and unfortunately he was defending their tomorrow from Viktor.

But they still loved each other. 

In another, Viktor had been executed, having made a deal with death to come back from the afterlife. This Jayce opposed him as well, fighting him constantly in the hopes he would not be able to enact his version of the ‘Glorious Evolution.’

And yet they still loved each other.

In one they weren’t working as scientists at all, weren’t even in Runeterra, in this universe they were all actors on a show! They went by new names, acting out the events that had happened in their home timeline, all while dealing with their own complex lives.

When they had been dropped in this dimension, these versions of them had already been together for months it seemed.

His favorites, of course, were the versions that were just…them. 

The timelines and realities where they had met under different circumstances at the academy, where they had figured it all out sooner, ones where Jayce was expelled, where Viktor hadn’t been in the explosion, where they hadn’t been completely and utterly oblivious.

Where they got to love each other in peace, in life.

“I’ll always love you V…I’m meant to.” Jayce leaned in to plant a kiss on Viktor’s upper lip, on Jayce’s favorite mole. He spoke again when he pulled back. “My turn, yeah?”

Viktor let out a soft chuckle and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I suppose I will let you go next.” He focused back on Jayce, noticing the teasing look that had overtaken him.

“You would still choose me, if we could go back and do it all again. Real, or not real”

Viktor let softness overtake his eyes, emotions welling up in his chest, threatening to burst out of it. 

“Real. I believe I said it best in fact,” he cleared his throat for dramatic effect before continuing,”…in all timeline, in all possibilities…only you Jayce. Only you can make me understand…the beauty in everything. And…just so you know, I like to know that there’s at least one universe in which we get to fight about normal things like taxes and you not taking the chicken out of the freezer.” He snorted to himself at the last part as he watched Jayce sigh and roll over onto his own back. The hand that had been on Viktor’s face pulled back to pinch the bridge of Jayce’s nose in annoyance

“I knew you’d bring that up- that wasn’t even my fault! That Jayce got distracted!”

“Yes, distracted fucking his Viktor, who I’m sure would have been willing to break for you to defrost the chicken.” Viktor sat up onto his elbows now, turning to face the other, that same fond smile growing. “My point, Jayce,” Viktor pulled Jayce’s hand off his face, holding over the other’s warm scarred chest, “is that I like to know we aren’t always doomed. That somewhere out there we got it right on our own, without interference from…us.”

Jayce let his eyes find Viktor’s again.

They were both pulled from their thoughts as they felt a being hop up onto the bed with them, letting out a soft meow at the lack of attention.

“Why hello there Blitzcrank, are you here for chin scratches?” Jayce said as he moved their shared hands to pet over the cat.

They’d figured out along the way that they could create beings in this pocket dimension of theirs. Blitz had been their first, an accident really, but soon after came Rio, and then Amaranthine. They kept them company when they were here, and they kept each other company when they weren’t. They didn’t need to be fed so they were the perfect pets for a couple of traveling souls like themselves. “I believe that is our sign that it’s time to be productive.” Viktor sat all the way up, stretching out as he did so and letting a pop echo from his spine. “I would like to go study cells while I can, and you have been complaining all week about no forge time. Get to it pretty boy.”

A/N: after this they do create a robot Blitzcrank, their fourth child, and name him ‘Blitzcrank II’

[adharaantheia]

🪭Deities with Epithets thatcan help you financially 🪭

Adhara's post introduction: Hello, lovebugs!! I'm back and with an informative post that can help those who are searching for jobs; trying to be financially wise, and who are in need of some stability! Hope you all love it!

Ares Aphneiós;

Meaning of Aphneiós: Rich, Wealth;

Lord Ares is amazing for those who need urgent money, I say this because he helped on situations that I was having panic attacks in fear of not having money at the end of the month, and he helps everyone, regardless if you work officially with him or not!

Athena Evræsítækhnos/Mítir Tǽkhni;

Meaning: Inventor of Arts; Mother of all kind of Arts;

This is an amazing Epithet for those that have art's business, Lady Athena will support your artistic skills and help you make wise decisions for your artistic business!

Zeus Ktísios;

Meaning: Giver of riches;

This epithet is not only for those that want new jobs, but also for those that want to have your own property! King Zeus will help you with anything related about wanting a new house or your own business!

Zeus Nikaios;

Meaning: Victorious;

For those who are waiting for a new job interview! He will bring victory and success for you <3;

Hermes Æriounios;

Meaning: luck-bringer;

Lord Hermes is a wonderful Deity for those who need luck in finding a new job!

Hermes Kærdǽmboros;

Meaning: Bestower of Wealth;

If you're in need of some money, you can go to Lord Hermes! He's the bestower of wealth!!

A reminder to always give these Deities offerings once you have your wish granted, and to also work hard to make it happen, the Gods won't give it to you without seeing that you're working hard, and that you're going to thank them with offerings!

[gardenwalrus]

The Beatles speaking about themselves in DISC (12 October 1963) [Paul & John section here]

[GEORGE] Our dress style has changed…  It was when I was relaxing in a Boeing jet on the way back from America last week that I realised that in many ways I was still the same George Harrison I was before The Beatles were so well known. But I also realise that in some ways my life HAS changed - mostly for the better I’m glad to say.  The most obvious change is financial. That’s very nice, but I don’t think it's the most important thing. It’s nice to be able to buy a new car and new clothes when you want them, but I was happy when I couldn’t afford these things.  One big way The Beatles generally have changed is in their style of dress. Eighteen months ago, for instance, we dressed far more casually than we do now. 

I think my social life has changed considerably as well. Now we meet far more people than we ever met before.  I mean, like, when we appear at a one-night stand we’re often invited back after the show to a nearby club. People seem to go out of their way to try and make sure we have a little fun after our work.  A question I’ve been asked quite a few times over the past 12 months is: “What do you think is the right age to get married?”  I honestly think there’s no such thing as ‘the right age.’ I think that you should get married when you decide that this is the time when you should get married. This is a decision which you can only make yourself. There’s no correct age.  In my personal tastes, I’m a bit undecided about clothes, too. I haven’t got any definite preferences. But if something I see pleases me I’ll buy it and wear it whether it’s in the French style, or Italian, or English.  One thing I really do get enthusiastic about is music. As I’ve said before in DISC, I like the coloured American groups like The Shirelles and The Miracles. But I’m fond of a lot of other music - Segovia on classical guitar, for example. 

+

[RINGO] I’m the silent type…  I’m the one the boys call the silent type. Well, I haven’t got all that much to say for myself, and I prefer to listen to other people speaking. My real name is Richard Starkey, but the Ringo bit has been with me for so long, I don’t think of myself as a ‘Richard’ anymore. Of all the Beatles, I live nearest to the city centre - about 10 minutes walk and six bus stops away. It’s not a rich part of town, but my mum has all her friends there and doesn’t want to move out.  Some of my family are just outside London. They sometimes come and visit us, and once a year my dad makes a trek down south.  I want to do things for my family, but they keep telling me to save my money. Eventually I think I’ll open a chain of hairdressing shops in and around Liverpool. I’d like my main shop to be in the centre of the city, and be THE place.  I have enough hairdressing friends to keep the shops well staffed, but feel with a haircut like mine it would be best for me to stay away from them!  I have my hair cut about once every three months! I’m joking of course. I have it trimmed when the mood takes me and have no special barber.  You don’t hear very much about me in the group, because I don’t sing. I had my big and only singing moment on ‘Boys’ for our LP, and really made the most of it.  And, surprisingly enough, although I’m a drummer I don’t have a favourite musician. Well, not a real one. I like to see good showmanship in any artist, and I hope to get a chance of seeing Brook Benton while he’s in England. It’s a stroke of luck he’ll be doing the Palladium show at the same time as us, but I’ll probably be so nervous, I won’t have time to appreciate his act.  I don’t eat very much. If I did, I’d probably have much more energy. As a kid, I was very fond of chips and jam-butty (that’s a jam sandwich), and to this day, I still like it. Even if I enjoyed it, I don’t think I’d ever get used to eating caviar or drinking champagne.  One of my ambitions in life is to learn how to play the piano. I’d willingly take lessons if only I had the time. But my main ambition is to be happy all the time.  Yet I don’t relax very much. I like to be active. Even if I have a chance to go on holiday, instead of sitting in the sun all day I’m off exploring the local neighbourhood. I think I do this because if I didn’t I’d be nothing more than just plain lazy! I very rarely go near a Chinese or Italian restaurant. Don’t like either food, and if anything has onions in it then I’m completely done for.  I’m mad for rings. I wear four, and would wear them on all my fingers if I didn’t think they’d get in the way. Often I get wrist ache from drumming too much, but the only other ailment I suffer from is occasional colds. I’m not as bad as John though. He keeps on losing his voice. Never doing a performance, but usually just after a recording session. 

[lumons]

i think it's so interesting to think about mass severance and people escaping inconvenience and harm and stress and i'm specifically so fascinated about the fact that currently, as far as we know, it's an irreversible process. once you sever, once you make that decision, there's no going back. you will never really know anything that you've experienced or been through.

the only two examples of reintegration we have are petey and mark and petey died while mark is currently suffering from so many ailments and seizures and it's just this absolutely brutal process. even then, while reghabi talks about how the memories will slot back together and the timelines will sync up and fill in the gaps, petey tells us that it doesn't actually work that way. what he says of being reintegrated is that "it's like having two different lives suddenly stitched together. but the relativity's fսckеd. so, my first day at lumon's as far back as my fifth birthday. and with two pasts, it blurs the present too. but they said it will get better" (s1e3). we haven't actually seen anyone survive these early parts of reintegration, and mark isn't quite yet where petey got to, again as far as we know, and so whether it's possible that it'll get better we can't be sure. we just know that so far, reintegrating isn't really a process of undoing severance but rather cutting and pasting the two selves together like a collage and hoping for the best.

these second and third and however many consciousnesses have been created and they exist, they're undeniable. they have their own lives, choices, experiences, and to reintegrate is also to acknowledge you will never be simply your outie or your innie but rather this new third self that has to grapple with both.

[nephilimeq]

Oh, Darling, Please Be Mine

Prompt: Proposal

@bucktommyfluffebruary

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/162762577

Tommy felt his heart hammering in his chest as he led Evan up to the edge of the clearing, where it was easiest to see the ocean from, praying that he didn’t pass out before he asked him the question that he knew would change his life…

…but he also knew that he didn’t just want to dive right into it. He had a plan.

Once they were finally up there, he turned and said, “You know you’re the first person I’ve ever shared this place with?” and his boyfriend nodded and quipped, “Yeah, you, uh…you kinda mentioned that before,” and the airman flushed, feeling his stomach flip at the adorable smile on the younger man’s face, a part of him still terrified that he was making the wrong decision. God, what if Evan said no? Even worse, what if he laughed at him? What if—

No. He cut off the line of thought before it could get worse and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, well…this has always been where I’ve felt the safest, you know?” Tommy started to explain, wanting Evan to truly understand why that place was important to him. “When…when things got bad at home, I always knew I could come here and no one would find me. Here is where I learned to accept…well…me. All of me.”

At that, Evan’s brow unfurrowed and he knew he was getting through to him and let out a sigh of relief and pulled him closer, moving them to a spot where they could sit, echoing their positions from before.

His boyfriend pressed up into him, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, and Tommy felt himself settle.

“When I realized I liked boys, it was here. When…when I realized I never wanted to be my father, it was here. I learned how to make paper cranes here, too,” he added with an embarrassed nod of his head, and his boyfriend’s eyes lit up and he unintentionally interrupted, “You can make paper cranes?” but stopped when Tommy shot him a look, for which he was grateful, and he grasped at his hand with his own. “I also learned that most relationships take a hell of a lot of work and some people…like my parents…don’t know how to put in the work…”

His voice trailed off and he felt the mood shift slightly and felt bad for doing that, not wanting to make his boyfriend feel bad for him and swiftly tried to change the conversation back to a lighter note by saying, “But I’d like to think I’ve figured out a thing or two,” and ran his thumb over the ridges of his knuckles.

“I think you’ve been doing pretty good,” Evan said, shooting him a puppy-eyed look with those perfectly blue eyes of his.

Tommy’s stomach flipped. Again.

The ring in his pocket felt like a lead weight.

He couldn’t decide if the weight was one of promise or one of dread—he loved Evan with all his heart, but there was still some insidious voice in the back of his mind that was telling him that he would ruin everything by asking him to marry him. God, he loved the idea of hearing Mr. Kinard, or maybe even Mr. Buckley-Kinard coming from his lips…but his fear of him saying no somehow weighed more than the prospect of him saying yes, and it was holding him back.

He bit at the inside of his cheek and then turned his eyes to the horizon, taking in the view, and instead of saying what he wanted to, instead said, “It was also here where I decided to go into the army. I used to stare out at this view and all I could think of was being in the air, getting away from it all, you know?”

Evan nodded.

“So…this place was for you what my little hunting shack was for me?” he remarked, and Tommy hummed in the back of his throat and replied, “Yeah, I guess it was. I spent hours here pretending to fly off to places across the ocean. I used to make up countries that didn’t exist. I, uh…I always liked the idea of finding an island filled with dinosaurs,” he softly admitted, hoping that he wasn’t embarrassing himself…

…and was taken aback when his boyfriend said, “Oh, you mean like those Dinotopia books?”

He arched an eyebrow.

“You don’t know Die Hard or Love Actually, but you know one of the most obscure books series from the early nineties?” he asked, incredulous, unable to keep from lightly chuckling at the anachronism, shaking his head as Evan shrugged with a sheepish grin on his face, still trying to understand aspects of the young man in front of him, wondering if he would ever learn everything about him.

He hoped that he didn’t. Tommy hoped that he would go through the rest of his life constantly learning about new things about Evan that he didn’t know. All he wanted to do was keep unraveling the mystery of the man in front of him and living the rest of his life with him no matter what happened, even if it meant that he had to stop flying—and fuck, if that wasn’t the most terrifying thing he had ever thought of; that he would give up flying if it meant that he could keep Evan Buckley in his life.

Tommy’s nerves finally settled.

He went to open his mouth to take the jump, but then Evan said, “I do know things, you know. You don’t always have to sound so surprised,” and the airman gave him a look and said, “I’m not surprised…”

His boyfriend gave him a look.

“…okay, maybe I’m a little surprised, but I like that. I like being surprised by you…”

With trembling fingers he reached towards his pocket and unzipped it as quickly as he could and then pulled out the ring box, noting Evan’s blue eyes widening.

“…and I want to keep on being surprised by you for the rest of my life. For the rest of our lives,” he amended, feeling an odd calmness settle over him as he opened the ring box to show him what he’d picked out for him. “So, if you don’t mind—Evan Buckley—will you do me the honor of turning our lives into something even more? Because I can no longer see a future without you in it, and I don’t want to wait any longer. When I think of home, I don’t think of a house with a cracking front driveway, an uneven foundation, and a leaky side roof anymore...I think of you. You are my home.”

He searched his face, noticing a faint sheen of moisture in the corners of his eyes.

“Evan. Will you marry me?”

He swore everything went silent, even the birds in the trees, the only sound the waves down below them, faint and pulsing in time with his heartbeat as he waited with bated breath, somehow not scared by the silence that he hadn’t been expecting, but instead completely ready for whatever his boyfriend might say…

…and then his heart caught in his throat when Evan looked up at him and said in a tremulous tone, “Oh, god, yes…Tommy, yes,” and then leaned in and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss that caught him off guard with its softness and sweetness, and he could feel faint tear tracks press to his cheeks, tears that weren’t his, and Tommy leaned into the kiss, pouring all of his love into it, using his free hand to grasp at the younger man’s waist.

Eventually they pulled back and Evan wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and said, “That is literally the most perfect ring I’ve ever seen,” and Tommy smiled.

“It took me a while to get it made. You almost nearly found out about it, actually,” he admitted, and blue eyes locked back onto his.

“Really? When?”

“Remember that yoga class I dragged you to?” Evan nodded. “Yeah, well, I didn’t realize that the woman I ordered the ring from was also a yoga instructor,” he said with a comedic tilt of his head, and was thrilled when his boyfriend coughed out a wet laugh and shook his head and said, “No! Wait, that’s why you were acting so weird around her?”

Tommy nodded and said as he pulled out the ring from the ring box, “Yeah, nearly blew the whole thing up right then and there—and then there was me convincing you to come here,” he reluctantly confessed. “I knew I was gonna propose right after the 118 bash at the beach, before the week was out…and then you gave me the perfect opportunity with this picnic. That’s kind of why I was being so weirdly controlling at the beginning of the trip. And why I took so many photos,” he added as he slipped the ring onto the third finger of Evan’s left hand.

Evan laughed again and said, “Kinda glad you did…oh my god, this is real, isn’t it?”

He lifted his hand and stared at the ring.

“Mhmm. It is.”

“You…me…we’re-we’re…we’re engaged.” Tommy watched as it sunk in. “We’re…oh, god, we’re engaged!” Evan exclaimed, leaning back in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, his entire face lit up with the biggest smile the airman had ever seen. “I’m gonna be Mr. Buckley-Kinard…”

“So you do want to hyphenate? I was kind of hoping you would…”

Evan nodded so violently he was afraid his head would fall right off.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I love your last name, but I want everyone to know about both of us, and this way if we have…if we have kids,” he hesitantly added with a duck of his eyes, “They can have both of our names.”

Tommy nodded right back at him and softly agreed, “Yeah, I’d like that. And besides, once we’re both captains, we can go by our own names so people won’t get confused,” he said with a wry grin in as much of a serious tone he could muster considering just how overwhelmingly overjoyed he felt in that moment—so much so that he was certain that he was about to start yelling at the top of his lungs to anyone who would listen that he had gotten Evan Buckley to agree to marry him.

His boyfriend’s expression was adorable as his nose scrunched up and he said, “Once we’re both captains? Wow, uh…sounds like-like you have some pretty big plans for us,” and Tommy gave him a soft smile and said, “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been thinking a lot about our future lately, and it just made sense that we both might want that one day…”

“Not gonna lie, it’s occurred to me. Just…I don’t want it to happen too soon, you know? I kinda hope Bobby sticks around for a while longer.”

Tommy felt his heart melt a little at the admission.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said, reaching out and brushing a stray curl from his forehead, loving how long his boyfriend’s hair was getting…and then was taken aback when Evan said, “Hey, so I’ve got an engagement ring, but what about you? I wanna show the world that you’re about to be mine, too,” and the airman didn’t know what to say—but then took a second and suggested, “How about I show you the website and you can design one for me, too?” and Evan lit up.

“Oh, I like that idea. You’d let me do that? Because I know you’re kinda weird about that kind of thing. You know, jewelry,” he said, tugging lightly at Tommy’s shirt. “I mean, you wear necklaces from time to time, but because you work with your hands so much in your off time, I wouldn’t want to pick something that would get in the way…”

Tommy shrugged.

“Then we pick it out together.”

Evan’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned back in and recaptured his boyfriend’s—no, his fiancé’s lips with his own, and lingered, soaking in the moment at finally realizing that his boyfriend was now his fiancé and that as soon as he possibly could, his last name would be attached to his and they would be married. And he would have a husband.

Fuck, he never thought that it would happen.

Unbidden, he felt a few of his own tears finally sneak out, and Evan pulled back from the kiss just enough to breathe out, “Hey, are you okay?” and Tommy nodded and said, “Yeah, just…you said yes. You-you…you’re gonna marry me. You’re gonna be my husband. We’re…we’re gonna be married," the words finally sinking in, the realization of what had just happened somehow hitting him with all the weight of a firehose to the chest.

The younger firefighter grinned wide and said, “Yeah, we’re gonna be married! I can’t wait ‘til I get to call you husband…”

All of the air left his lungs at once.

He nodded.

“Yeah. Husband,” he said breathlessly, reaching out and lightly tracing his fingers along Evan’s jawline, darting his eyes between his lips and baby blues—no, sky blues, he mentally corrected. Eyes as blue as the sky that he had escaped to at the age of eighteen, skies that he was willing to let go of for the rest of his life if it meant waking up to seeing them right next to him every morning until he could no longer open his own eyes.

Evan then said, “So…we gonna head home, now? Tell everyone the good news?”

Tommy shook his head and softly replied, “Not just yet. I want this to be just us for a little while longer. Is that okay?” he asked, nervous, but his fiancé nodded and skated his thumb over the back of his hand and said, “Yeah, it is. We can keep it to ourselves a bit longer. Just us.”

They stayed like that for a while, sitting and staring, and the airman found himself constantly running his fingers over the ring on Evan’s finger, still baffled by the fact that he had said yes.

Unexpectedly, Evan broke the silence with, “So…when you were asking me about my favorite season earlier, were you trying to figure out when you wanted us to get married?” and he shyly nodded and ducked his eyes. His fiancé chuckled and said, “You know what, I don’t care when we get married, just that we do. Now…how long do you want to keep this between us? Because the moment we tell Chimney, everyone will know,” and Tommy rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Ugh, I know, but I also know that you want to tell your sister as soon as possible, and once she knows, then Howie knows, and…yeah.”

They shared a look.

…and then Tommy said, “How’s this. We keep it to ourselves for the next few days. You’ll have to keep the ring off during work hours, anyway, so it shouldn’t be too hard to hide,” he added with a head tilt. “When you’re ready, we tell them. Not a moment before.”

He rubbed his finger over the ring one more time.

“Only when you’re ready…”

It felt soft and sweet when Evan leaned in and kissed him, none of the manic energy and passion from before, but somehow with even more love than before and he sank into it, enjoying the way it made his brain go quiet, and by the time they both pulled back he was feeling lightheaded in the best way possible and so took a moment to catch his breath by resting his forehead against Evan’s, wondering if they stayed like that long enough that his birthmark would be etched onto his skin, as well.

Evan then said, “I like that idea. Not sure how long I can keep it a secret, though, to be honest,” and Tommy snorted and shook his head and said, “Yeah, why am I not surprised? Don’t worry about it, Evan. Just do it when it feels right.”

His fiancé arched an eyebrow at him.

“I, uh—I kinda wanna call Maddie right now,” he admitted, and the airman threw his head back and barked out a laugh and said, “I think ten minutes isn’t quite enough time. Give it a few hours, at least?” and they broke into giggles together and ended up on their sides in the grass, staring at each other as they tried to come down from their laughter.

Evan calmed down first and said, “Yeah, I can…I can do that.”

They laid there for a little while longer, Tommy basking in the hope and love that he felt…and then the young fireman said, “God, I can’t wait to be married to you…”

…and Tommy smiled.

He couldn’t wait, either.

[themoonlitquill]

Whispers Woven in Shadow. (6/?)

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧? 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚? 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝖠𝗓𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗅 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆!𝖮𝖢 (𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; HI. I meant to post this yesterday (like I did last week don’t hate me pls) but I didn’t like where I originally ended it so I revised and ta-daaa! 🪄 This one was a very fun one to write! It was going one direction and then ended up somewhere else, which I LOVED. And I hope you do too! 🩵 Alsooooo, the next chapter is already in the works and let’s just say I am STOKED for it. 🤩 Hehe. ENJOY!!

𝖳𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ; 𝗡𝗼𝗻𝗲??? 𝗢𝗺𝗴 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗹𝗲???

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 3553.

“The key to being a Daemati is discretion,” Rhysand stood in front of Ariadne, only a few feet away, with a rather serious expression in place. It was clear that what he was about to teach was important, no nonsense to be found, and she found herself thoroughly engaged. “Once you find your in, the last thing you want is to be discovered. It could be catastrophic otherwise, especially since you’re new at it.”

Her hands were clasped together behind her back, lips pursed. “That makes sense, but wouldn’t they be able to feel me enter somehow?”

“Not necessarily,” he picks a piece of lint off his sleeve. “When you’re in complete control and know what you’re doing, there’s nothing to be felt. Although,” the violet of his eyes were gleaming. “It also depends on if they’ve been trained against Daemati powers and if they have… it can be more complicated.”

“So there is a chance that I could be found out?” Ariadne frowns. “What do I have to do to prevent that?”

The High Lord smirks. “I’m so glad that you asked, littlest Archeron. That’s exactly what we’re going to work on today.”

“I have a name, you know,” her eyes were now narrowed into slits, annoyance set into the hard line of her mouth. “Use it.”

“You’re a sassy one, aren’t you?” Rhys chuckles under his breath. “Reminds me of Feyre.”

She swallows dryly, a pang hitting her chest. “I don’t want to talk about my sister with you.”

His shoulders lifted slightly and she had a feeling he had sighed, more than likely frustrated by the way she had shot him down. Not my problem. I don’t trust him. I don’t know if I trust any of them.

Ariadne takes a breath, the pain receding to a dull ache, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the pointed tip more prominent now. She didn’t know if she would ever get used to them. “Where do we start?”

The smirk diminishes as he straightens and it amazed her at how quickly he was able to switch from one emotion to another. It was almost too easy for him, which was a conundrum in itself. “Close your eyes.”

She hesitates for a moment, unsure, but obeys nonetheless.

“Now,” his tone is softer, more coaxing, like cool water flowing down a stream. “Picture a door. It can be any color, any shape, any size. Just be sure to put all of your focus on it.”

Slowly, Ariadne begins to conjure up what he had asked, allowing her subconscious to make the decisions for her; polished wood - ebony? - that was slightly worn with age, large enough for a grown person to fit through, and its handle curved into the shape of a crescent moon. She doesn’t know why, only that it felt right.

“Good,” Rhys hums approvingly. Could he see it too? It wouldn’t surprise her if he did. “The door isn’t yours, remember that, it belongs to someone else. Think of the mind as a house, full of locked rooms that hold a plethora of secrets.”

She gives a subtle nod, finding herself grateful for the way he was explaining things. Magic was a completely foreign concept to her and having powers, even more so. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t be able to figure it out if he approached it differently, but she’d rather it be done this way. Much easier.

A strange sensation brushed against the door then. It reminded her of nails scratching, not entirely unpleasant, though not comfortable either. There was an awareness that came with it, some sort of pressure, and she couldn’t help wondering exactly what it was.

“Do you feel that?” She nods again. “That’s me. I’m allowing you to sense that I’m trying to get in,” there’s a shift in the air and all of a sudden it disappears. “And now you can’t feel me anymore, correct?”

“Yes.”

“The goal isn’t to use brute strength, even though there will come a time when that’s necessary,” he pauses. “But for now, it’s about slipping through the cracks. There’s always a way in, Ariadne. Even if you don’t see it at first. Some houses leave windows left open, while others have weak locks. Sometimes there’s too many doors, which leads to things left unnoticed. Don’t force it. Follow your instincts and feel for the gaps.”

Ariadne exhales, finding her center where she stood and reaching out tentatively; it felt like her own opalescent barriers, though this time, it was extending towards the door she had created, moving along the outer edges in search of a way in.

Her brow draws together, coming up empty handed and leading to her releasing a frustrated huff. “I don’t- Wait!”

The shimmery mist gathers along the bottom left corner, probing at the wood and that’s when she feels it. A small hairline fracture, barely there, but it was possible, and that was all she needed. “I found it,” her tone was hushed, full of awe. Truthfully, she hadn’t put much stock into this and now she was a believer.

Rhys smiles. “Try to get through without me feeling you. I’ll wait.”

She takes a breath and holds it before pushing forward, allowing herself to slip into the crack, trying to be mindful of how much pressure she was putting behind it and there’s a whisper in the back of her thoughts, reminding her to be stealthy, as fleeting as a shadow. Her nails dig into the skin of her palms, teeth clenched, and she focuses on thinning out, bleeding through to the other side inch by inch.

“There you go. That’s it,” he encourages, watching her with a keen gaze that holds something akin to amazement, and he couldn’t help but marvel at her tenacity. “I can feel you, but just barely. If you keep practicing, I won’t be able to at all, which is saying something.”

Ariadne finally opens her eyes and she feels… accomplished. It wasn’t anything major - yet - and she still had work to do - a lot - and despite that, she had done it. There was progress made and she couldn’t help in feeling more determined than ever. This bit of success had served to further prove that she could do this, that she wasn’t going to be stuck, and she relished in it.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

As it turned out, Rhysand was a pretty good teacher. He was patient and explained things well, gave her praise when she earned it and corrected her when she made a mistake, though it wasn’t harsh, more on the constructive side than belittling her like she had expected. It was… nice, and she had learned enough to begin practicing on her own before they would eventually move to the next lesson.

There was no way she was ready for the whole ‘shattering minds’ aspect of it, but maybe Azriel had been right. It would be smart for her to at least know how to do it. Just in case.

And speaking of the elusive Shadowsinger…

Ariadne tilts her head, honey brown eyes roaming over bronze skin and swirls of black ink that adorned his upper arms, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. How many does he have? She wanted to ask and managed not to, especially after how he had reacted yesterday. Why did he leave like that? He owes an explanation. It was rude. If he doesn’t want to be around me, he should be an adult and say that. Are all Illyrians complete dicks?

She huffs and strides into the kitchen with purpose, dead set on confronting him and giving him a piece of her mind when he looks up, gold seeming to brighten, and causes her to falter, suddenly feeling warm all over.

“Hi.”

Azriel raises a single brow and she notes that he had stiffened, shoulders tense and shadows flitting about almost anxiously. “Hi.”

“How was your day?”

He balks. “My day?”

An uncharacteristic snort emits from her. “Yes, your day. It’s called having a conversation. You should try it. Unless you plan on leaving again without a reason why?”

Guilt flashes across his face and she places her hands on her hips expectantly. “I’m sorry.”

She softens. A little. “You shouldn’t have done it. If I do something to offend you, I’d much rather you tell me than running off and making me wonder what the hell it was I did. I’m a big girl, Azriel. I can handle the truth.”

He observes her silently for a moment. “I know you can.”

“Don’t do it again. Please,” she adds. “I want to be your friend and you’re making it harder than it needs to be.”

“Friends,” his jaw clenches and her head tilts curiously. Did he not want that? “Okay then. My day was… alright.”

Maybe he did. “Just alright? What did you do?”

“Trained with Cass.”

“What kind of training?”

“Hand to hand mostly,” he relaxes, slightly, some of the tension lifting. “Some flight maneuvers here and there.”

Ariadne perks up at that and leans against the counter, glancing at his wings briefly. “Did you ask him to race?”

“It may have come up.”

“And?”

“He agreed.”

“Oh, how exciting! When can we do it?”

“Whenever you want,” Azriel’s gaze intensifies and she feels heat creep up her neck. Why was he looking at her like that? “As the unbiased judge, we thought it only fair for you to be the one to choose.”

She hums. “Well, in that case, how about the end of the week? It’s only a few days away and it’ll give me time to write out a scorecard.”

“A scorecard?”

“Yes. It can’t just be based on how fast you are. That wouldn’t be as fun.”

He seems to think it over, lips twitching. “What are the other categories other than speed?”

“I can’t tell you that. Cassian isn’t going to get an advantage, why should you?” Ariadne raises an inquisitive brow, engaging in a silent challenge. “What’s fair is fair.”

“I don’t even get a hint?”

“No,” she releases an exaggerated sigh. “I’m afraid your skill will have to speak for itself.”

Azriel’s shoulders shake as his mouth curves up into a smile, the smallest hint of a dimple appearing and she finds herself fascinated by it, gaze zeroing in as her body leans over the counter. She wanted to see if he had another on the other side, but it was gone before she could ask.

She chews on the inside of her lower lip, suddenly finding herself at a loss for words; it seemed that happened a lot when she was around the Shadowsinger and she didn’t know why. It was like she had a million different things to say and couldn’t figure out how to string them in the right order to keep the conversation going.

It also didn’t help that she held a fear of him leaving again because she did something wrong that she was unaware of.

How was she supposed to navigate this?

Her mouth opens and then closes, brow furrowing, and she could see the shadows swirling about languidly, some slithering towards her and she wanted to touch them, wanted to touch him.

Wait, what? Ariadne shakes her head and resumes her incessant biting. Don’t do that. If you’ve learned anything, it’s that he’s an obvious flight risk.

Azriel watches silently and she had this weird feeling that he knew what she was thinking somehow. “They like you.”

She blinks. “Who?”

The shadows move closer and his head inclines slightly. “Them.”

Where had that come from? Their conversation in the library replays in her mind. He had pulled them away from her like it - she - was some sort of issue and now he was finally acknowledging it? It made no sense. Like everything else around here, she sighs.

“Maybe I’m better company than you are.”

His eyes widen a fraction and a low rumble reverberates in the back of her skull, warm and all-consuming. It sent tingles down the length of her spine and there was no doubt that it was a laugh. She was certain. Azriel was laughing. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Cassian was massive.

She had met him before and yet, she didn’t remember him being this big. It was sort of… intimidating. He looked like he could throw her through a wall and not even break a sweat. Her lips curve slightly at that. It was certainly entertaining to think about.

He stood next to Azriel and there was a shit-eating grin on his face, which only seemed to annoy the Shadowsinger and it was obvious that she was missing something.

But what?

Ariadne observes Cassian with interest, wondering how different he was from the others. He had to be a force or else he wouldn’t be the… What was his title? Lord of… Something, she tilts her head with a curious expression. Lord of Illyrians? What in the name of the stupid Cauldron was it?

She flicks her gaze to Azriel, silent questions in honey brown, and he elbows Cassian, chin dipping towards her and she wished more than anything that she knew them well enough to know exactly what they were saying without saying it.

“So, you can’t hear at all?”

A dark shadow passes over Azriel’s face that she chooses to ignore, mostly, and she shakes her head. “Not in the traditional sense. I mostly go by touch and sight.”

“That’s gotta be a pain in the ass.”

Ariadne fights a smile. Oh, I like him, she steps forward, eyes roaming leisurely. “Believe it or not, you get used to it.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Cassian looks down at her with amusement. “You’re really tiny.”

She scoffs, hands moving to rest on her hips. “You don’t miss much,” her neck tilts back in time with her perusal. “Which is surprising considering I didn’t think you’d be able to see from all the way up there.”

He barks out a laugh. “You’ve got my vote.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Azriel rolls his eyes, arms moving to cross over his chest. “Ignore him. I do.”

“It’s impossible to ignore me,” Cassian interjects. “Don’t listen to him. He’s cranky and needs a nap.”

Ariadne nearly laughed at that and it was a bit of a surprise at how comfortable she was with him already. Rhysand, she was still wary of, and Azriel… well, she wasn’t quite sure what she felt where he was concerned, but Cassian? He was a breath of fresh air and she liked that he didn’t seem to take himself too seriously. She thought they might end up being fast friends, which she was in no position to say no to.

“Or maybe you just get on his nerves.”

His grin widens - if that was even possible - and catches the small chuckle from Azriel, the rare sound a surprise and he found himself stunned for a moment; his brother could deny it as much as he wanted, but it was evident that there was something there and it pained him that he couldn’t speak on it, not unless he wished to come to blows and the last time that happened, it hadn’t ended well.

“She has a point,” the Shadowsinger gives Cassian a knowing look, who huffs in return. “I’ve never heard any complaints,” he focuses back on the youngest Archeron. “I could never. He loves me too much.”

Her eyes rolled, though there was no malice, only a subtle fondness that softened her features. “I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you,” a small hum emits from her throat. “Have either of you decided what you want the prize to be if you win the race?”

“I’ve been waiting for this!” Cassian claps his hands together, a mischievous glint in his gaze. “Oh, right,” he smiles sheepishly at Ariadne. “Sorry, this’ll take some getting used to. Anyway,” he perks back up. “I’ve been thinking that since you’ve shown so much interest in flying… That the winner gets to take you for the first time.”

Azriel tenses and so do his shadows. “Absolutely not.”

He ignores him, practically giddy, and continues on without missing a beat. “Az told me about this scorecard you’re making and since you’re the one judging, it makes sense for the winner to be the one to do it. You know,” Cassian’s grin returns. “Safety and all.”

“I said no,” Azriel bites out, jaw hard. Was he out of his mind?

“I like that idea,” Ariadne had noted the Spymaster’s reaction and it was the ten-thousandth thing that she added to the ‘makes no sense’ pile. “But instead of just going for a flight, why not make it more interesting?” There’s a brief silence and she took that as her sign that they were agreeing with her. “I want to go down to the city and explore. I’m sick of being in this house, no offense,” she glances up at the ceiling before returning to the two Illyrians. “I need to get out and the winner gets to be my escort slash tour guide.”

“Excellent!” Cassian pats Azriel on the shoulder. “I bet you’ll make sure you win now,” he winks playfully at the little Fae. “You’ve got yourself a deal!”

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

You are excited.

Ariadne looks down at the shadow encircled around her wrist, eyes brightening. Hi! Long time, no see! Wait, how can you tell I’m excited?

You wear your emotions plainly, it tightens its grip in a quick squeeze. It is easy to tell.

I never really noticed, she gives a half-shrug. But you’re right, I have something to look forward to at the end of the week. I get to fly to the city!

Velaris.

Yes, Velaris, her eyes move to the open archway across the room. I’ll be out of this house for the first time since that damn Cauldron and be around other people and check the shops and see that pretty river and be normal.

It was all she wanted; to have the opportunity to venture out and be a part of something instead of locked away in a hypothetical tower - that was actually a magic house - away from curious glances and speculation. Though, she found she didn’t care what the reaction would be to her, only that she was finally going to be free, even if it was just for a little while.

Who are you going with?

She blinked down at the shadow, watching it shimmer as it flowed around her wrist. They really were beautiful. Oh, I don’t know yet. I’ll find out at the end of the race in a couple days.

It is your decision who wins, is it not?

Yeah, it is, Ariadne hums and ghosts her fingertips over the sleek obsidian. Why was it so important? Why had Azriel said no? She had caught that - despite her lack of skill in that department - and hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. I want it to be fair, though. That’s why I made the scorecards. I split it into different categories.

You made a scorecard?

She huffs, not liking the fact that it felt like it was laughing at her. What was the big damn deal? It was the perfect way to judge!

Yes, that way I can take into account a few other things needed to win a race other than speed.

Such as?

Agility, form, and endurance, she raises a single brow, daring the shadow to tease her again. It doesn’t just take being the fastest. What about the air currents? The way they extend their wings and how far? What if something gets in their way and they have to go around it?

Like what?

What kind of a question was that? Ariadne throws her hand up, a second huff emitting from her lips, though more exasperated this time. I don’t know! A tree?

A tree in the middle of the sky?

Are you serious right now? I don’t know how high they’ll be flying!

It would have to be a very tall tree, the breathy whisper was lighter and she realized then that it was laughing at her. What a beastly little thing! She wanted to flick it.

I’m not talking to you anymore if you’re going to keep making fun of my scorecard!

Me? Making fun? Never.

She releases a frustrated sound and flicks it, eyes narrowed. Be nice!

Says the one who just wounded me.

Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’re fine, she rolls her eyes, but carefully rubs a small circle with her thumb, slow and soothing. I thought it was a good idea. There isn’t much to do around here, so I figured I’d go all in.

The shadow wraps around her forearm and squeezes, the temperature cool against her skin. It is. Your mind is fascinating and I enjoy seeing how you respond to things.

So that’s what that was? Ariadne purses her lips, watching as it moves further up until it’s on her shoulder and twirling through her hair. It seemed to like it there the best. What a weird way to go about it.

Not weird at all, little moon. You will soon see.

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