#it tastes like flowers and dark chocolate and the can is my favorite color

[smokeys-house]

while I'm aware that the recent prominence of cherry blossom flavors and scents in the US is because of the rampant romanticization of Japan and blatant fetishism of the "exotic", that doesn't stop the cherry blossom flavored La Croix from slapping hard as fuck

[funky-fox-fics]

idk if u were serious about the fluff prompts but uh...................... sure. let's think of cute fluffy things. for some reason i've got winter on the brain. it's october. I'm not doing hot chocolate I'm NOT because if I do hot chocolate i'll just start thinking about Christmas and then my ideas won't have any variety-

snow

literal sleeping together (my favorite tag ever forever)

sweet

movies

music

sunset

flowers

warmth

gifts

author's note: hello anon! i was being serious about the fluff prompts. those are a lot of prompts, so i put them in a spinner and came out with sunset! also you get hot chocolate as a bonus.

The crisp October breeze rattles through the trees, shaking their branches and whisking away the leaves like a child playing. It's a good wind, all things considered; Impulse soars along on it, wings catching the wind and twitching in response to the slightest change.

(He's very glad for elytrian bugs; he's always awed by the way Skizz does it, even with poking into his mind. It must be an avian thing--it's a thousand little calculations and observations, always running at the corner of his mind, and Skizz doesn't even pay attention to them unless Impulse calls them out.)

It's amazing, Skizz says, and Impulse pokes into his head to see that he's having dinner--pizza in his starter base. It's cheese, Skizz adds mildly, a hum of thoughts in the background delighting at the taste of it.

I don't mind cheese, Impulse conveys. He'd been heading back from the Shopping District, decided to do a fly-around, and the day's over now--there's no harm in a sleepover or something. Hold on, I'm right at your pyramid, gimme a moment.

He does one final circle around it, marveling at the gradient work--for someone who puts no stock in their building ability, it's pretty good--and then he flies straight toward where Skizz's base is. He barely even needs to take full control of his body. Skizz slips into the cracks, filling in Impulse's earthbound heritage with his own knowledge of flying, his own knowledge of his base.

Impulse lands, and the door behind him is wide open, showcasing a beautiful view of the sunset. The dusk paints the sky with gold and oranges, fading into pinks and purples and then into a dark blue near where the moon will rise. Still the sun reaches out with its rays of light like hands and trails them along the edge of the house, each stalactite, like a goddess taking her world into her hands at the end of its initial creation.

Skizz is there beside him, and the low hum of his thoughts is the only sound between them. The sun is setting, and it is downright beautiful. Impulse would've missed it in his bright city, where the sky doesn't change colors except for blue to black. But here there's less harsh light, an open door to see the sky through.

A soft awe-wonder-love passes through the bond, through the silence. Aren't the sunsets here beautiful? Skizz whispers in the backs of their minds, like if he speaks out loud the spell will break and the sky will become just a normal sky again, dark and starless and shadowed.

Beyond them, a crow darts across the grass, and with a rough and easy cry it launches itself into the air and swoops away.

The spell--if it was a spell, if the spell was just that beautifully unbroken silence--is broken. Impulse turns back to Skizz, who's absently holding his pizza and still watching the sun set.

Pizza? Impulse nudges against Skizz's mind, which is gold and orange and pink and purple and blue blue blue.

Right, Skizz says, shaking himself, turning back. I've also got hot chocolate. We can watch a bad Christmas movie later?

It's almost Halloween.

Fine then. IT?

Impulse laughs and nods, though whether it's only in their heads or also physically he doesn't know.

(That's the fun thing about being a binary. At the end of the day, it's so much easier to just have someone get what you're saying, you barely need physical bodies at all. The difference between physicality and mentality becomes blurred. Both of them know what's happening in both realms, so the line doesn't really matter. It's nice.)

They head into Skizz's kitchen for some pizza and hot chocolate. Through the window in there, the sun still sets, and the stars begin to come out.

[enemyoflactose]

Here are Most of my Yami Bakura head canons (some of them are kinda angsty)

Yami Bakura is really really good at applying eyeliner and mascara, but is dog shit at applying any other makeup.

When he's really stressed he scratches at his face and arms as hard as he can, which led to Ryou having to cut his nails so he wouldn't come back into consciousness with scratches everywhere because Yami Bakura was overwhelmed.

He has a fear of fire, but because he likes smoking he just closes his eyes when he needs a light.

He gets cold easily.

He loves dogs! If they didn't absolutely despise him they'd be his favorite animal. He settled for cobras because they seem to have unconditional love and adoration for him.

The reason Yugi, Anzu, Jonouchi, and Honda’s dolls all looked so different from Ryou's doll is because Yami Bakura made them.

He loves Godzilla movies and tried to convince Ryou to give Dark Master Zorc an atomic blast, but was shot down due to Ryou not knowing he existed. (Ryou would absolutely give DM Zorc an atomic blast)

Yami Bakura loves sweet things like cake and candy. His favorite pastry is chocolate filled croissants. He prefers it when they have the traditional croissant shape because it's easier for him to eat.

Isn't a fan of horror movies unless it's body horror or really really fucking stupid.

He likes biting his partners. Not just chomping on their skin either, he likes to nibble and really get his teeth all up in their skin. They can't bite back though because he's ticklish and will slap them really hard.

He likes to sleep in weird places. Underneath tables, in front of balcony windows, bathtubs, inside the couch.

He is a certified boob enjoyer. Doesn't matter what size. He likes all of them.

He likes neutral colors. Blacks, grays, whites, browns, and tans. Sometimes yellow.

He ate someone once. Full on cannibalized them. Only regret is that he kinda tasted bad.

He loves cats! They're not his favorite, but he loves them because they are soft and they love him back. (Dogs are the only animals that don't like him)

He doesn't like hummus. No particular reason. He just does not like it.

Completely tuned out everything Marik said after he was told his name. Everything else was in one ear and out the other.

Pretty chill with bugs unless they're flies, roaches, locusts, crickets, and grasshoppers. He doesn't like those at all.

In the situation where he got a redemption, I don't think he'd feel bad for the Yugi gang or almost ending the world. I think he just wouldn't see the point in taking revenge anymore because it obviously just wasn't working out. He isn't killing people anymore though! (He feels a little bad about Ghost and Ryou tho. He went a little overboard on them.)

He can't walk in heels over 2 inches.

He's actually really insecure about his dueling skills since he doesn't like the game that much, but he literally needs to play it.

He really likes flowers and gardening.

He keeps a copy of Tragoedia in his wallet, for memories sake.

He is incredibly touch starved, but he also feels like he doesn't really deserve to be touched in a soft and tender way. He doesn't like being kissed or hugged because that's just too gentle and loving, being bit tickles and that makes him feel too vulnerable. He can't help that he feels this way, but he just can't accept that someone actually loves him.

He stole his black trench coat from Kaiba.

Out of all of Ryou's friends, I imagine that Honda is the one he hates the least. He doesn't really do anything, and he protects Ryou from danger, so there isn't much to hate about him other than the fact he's friends with Yami.

The Yami he knows is the same Yami that burned people alive, blew people up, blew out people's eardrums, fed people to monsters, made people die a few times, and threatened to rip off people's legs. That's the Yami he knows, and he's terrified of him.

His favorite video game series is Dark Souls.

If Yami Bakura accepts the love of someone, he starts to purposely hurt them so they can stay home with him. He's subtle about it, so it's hard to tell if it's on purpose or not.

[gachagon]

Today was my sisters birthday so we went to The Color Factory! Which is like this immersive art place where each room is a different interactive exhibit that features a color. It was pretty fun over all, and I really enjoyed myself! The first room was a confetti room which was super fun. You could lay down and throw confetti everywhere.

I took a lot of photos of just kicking the confetti with my shoes. And there were some fake plastic flowers but I'm not sure what they added to exhibit other than just looking kind of pretty.

We also had to enter through this long multicolored corridor which was pretty trippy I took a lot of photos of my sister and her friends. This experience while colorful was also kind of dark because a lot of the rooms are either just pitch black or incredibly dimly lit so that you can focus on one singular color.

Side note it looks like we're walking in a bright orange haze in this photo and tbh that's what it felt like as well. After this room was one of my favorite rooms, the "Silent Dancing" room. It was also very purple and pretty cool to just hang out and take photos.

There was a disco floor which reflected all the disco balls above us and because of the neon purple lighting it really just made a cool effect on the ground. I really liked the way my outfit looked in this room lol so I took a lot of photos of myself and my sister.

There was a pink room but imo it was the most disappointing since you put these glasses on to make the whole room look pink (it's like looking through "rose colored glasses" essentially) but it's not the lightest pink color and is very reminiscent of shrimp or flamingos. So I didn't take a lot of photos here.

Lastly, we went into this ballpit and oh my lord I feared for my life several times while I was in that ballpit. I thought I would meet god on the bottom of a carpeted art house ball pool, but luckily my sister was there to pull me out (she was taller then me) for fear of losing my phone I didn't take it with me while I was in there. But even this image alone shows how terrifying and liminal it was. I did have a lot of phone in it however!

All in all, a wonderful experience. If there is a color factory near you, perhaps you should also go give it a visit I enjoyed myself. My only gripe is that it's expensive to get in there, and then all of the gift shop stuff is super expensive for no reason (20 dollars for a little truck with a cupcake ontop of it and 30 for a kids t-shirt???? no thanks) I brought some snacks anyways and they gave us snacks while we explored the Color factory.

However, a lot of the snacks were just plain nasty tasting. I brought a 5 dollar soda that was supposed to taste like "coconut" that was really like drinking a bottle of perfume. They gave us Macarons at the start of the exhibit, and they were also nasty. Imagine biting into a bar of fragrant strawberry scented soap. That's what it tasted like.

The only really tasty food that the Color factory had was their chocolate bar I got the salted caramel which is true to its name. It was very delicious and even my dad kept going back for more lol. And their Saltwater taffy which had different flavors. I had chocolate, vanilla, caramel, and some other fruity flavors that were super good (i had to chew a lot though.)

And at the end of the exhibit they gave everyone a little ice cream. You could pick between two flavors "Lavender or Deep Space" (they're both coconut flavored but one has a fruity taste and the other is a chocolatey one).

The lavender ice cream was the best thing I had there. Too bad it was small and tiny and not something I could just buy a regular cone of :(

[riveramorylunar]

Full Name: Vivian Sage Raleigh

Species: Human

Birthday: 5/7/1994

Birth Place: France, Paris

Age: 28

Gender: AFAB

Sexuality: Lesbian & Non-binary

Height: 6'2

Relationship Status: Single

Hair Color: Ash Brown

Eye Color: Green

Features: Limestone skin, Short Hair, Abs, 1 Tattoo(so far) & Freckles on nose and under eyes and all over their arms

Favorite Food: Boeuf Bourguignon or Soupe à l’oignon

Favorite Drink: Alcoholic- Cognac & Non-Alcoholic- Cranberry Spritz

Favorite Dessert: Chocolate Pots De Crème

Favorite Hobbies: Playing the electric guitar, Photography, Skiing/Snowboarding, Archery, Surfing, Soccer & Working out

Favorite Colors: Magenta, Dark Purple & gold

Favorite Scents: Burning Wood and Rain

Favorite Flower: Bleeding Hearts

Favorite Gemstone: Alexandrite

Favorite Styles: Masc, Grunge & Rocker

Fun Facts about Them:

1. Is the most athletic in the family.

2. Loves taking pictures of Nature and it's animals.

3. Loves to go skiing and snowboarding up in the mountains when it's snowing.

4. Has competed in skiing competitions and has won every single one of them.

5. Can shred on their electric guitar. Has a black and gold electric guitar. Has made the tip of their fingers bleed multiple times because they don't use a guitar pick.

6. Has played soccer since they were 6.

7. Started getting into Archery when they were 10.

8. They started surfing 5 months after getting into Archery.

9. Wears cologne all the time. Wears Azzaro Wanted Eau de Parfum which is a Woody, Spicy fragrance with Juniper Berries, Vetiver & Sage.

10. Has a magenta vape that they carry around and tastes like Dragon fruit.

11. Wears a lot of gold rings on their left hand.

12. Has a belly button piercing and a tongue piercing.

13. They let Valentina tattoo her hand so now she has one tattoo so far.

14. Absolutely loves Sun, Moon and Star things.

15. Works out every day at the gym and sometimes spots people if they need help. My god does she have muscles. Has a 8 pack.

What they look like and what their electric guitar looks like:

[murfeelee]

Picrew - Cupcakes

I absolutely HAD to try this cupcake maker https://picrew.me/image_maker/1435883 ; it’s utterly adorable!

Sakura & Ryuu

(Shadowhunters) Alec & Magnus Lightwood-Bane

(MDZS / The Untamed) Wei WuXian & Lan WangJi

(Spartacus) Agron & Nasir

(The Witcher 3) Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer von Vengerberg

MY THOUGHTS / FANGIRLING

My Japanese cherry-tree faery avatar sim Sakura is an explosion of pink. I imagine her cupcake tastes like straight up sugar. It’s got candy sprinkles, jelly filling, cherry syrup, one of those edible icing flower cake-topper things, and is topped off with a giant maraschino cherry. Wrap it up with a cute obi bow and viola--diabetes on a plate.

Sakura’s beau Ryuu is an albino serpentine shadow dragon, so his cupcake is shaped like a giant horned and winged snake. I shudder to think why his cupcake is grey--I would NOT want to eat that thing. Highly likely it’s poisoned.

Alec Lightwood-Bane has a blueberry cupcake, in honor of Malec’s warlock son Max (aka “Blueberry”). As the current Consul of the Clave over all the Shadowhunters, Alec’s a busy nephilim in Idris, and reads his correspondences while he eats.

Magnus Lightwood-Bane is fabulous, and his cupcake is too. I actually have no idea what it is. But it’s MAGIC! So not only is it delicious, but it likely also gets rid of wrinkles and unwanted body hair, and files your taxes for you.

Wei WuXian’s cupcake embodies what it means to be the infamous Mo Dao Zu Shi (Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation). It’s got the death’s head skull icing, and a crescent moon of dark chocolate. Red velvet and chocolate cake swirl about like the blood-soaked dead soil of WWX’s base in the Burial Mounds, and the battlefields where the Yiling Laozu reanimated hordes of feral corpses to defeat his foes. The coffin-like cupcake wrapper holds resentful energy back, so that WWX can rest in peace during his 13-year long food coma. WWX’s favorite red hair ribbon is characteristically untidy, but there’s a touch of elegance to the black and red dish, decorated in his iconic colors.

TBH Lan WangJi’s “cupcake” is actually a snowcone, cuz eff the rules! I imagined it as one of those palette-cleansing treats fancy people eat between courses, like Mia Thermopolis in Princess Diaries (garnishes and all, LOL). It’s got a snow bunny mint candy on top, because of course it does, and is decorated with the ubiquitous GusuLan headband ribbon.

Agron has a whole social media account dedicated to posting his meal plans, so he sticks to his fitness regiments. But on Cheat Days he goes all out, piling on the carbs and fats with chocolatey cookie cupcake goodness. He’ll burn it all off with Nasir later. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Banana nut muffins and bread and cupcakes are some of my favorite snacks ever, so someone was gonna have to have one. Nasir, as usual, pulled the short stick, LOLOLOLOL.

I saw the swords decal and was like who the heck would have a frikkin weapon on their cupcake? Then it hit me--Geralt would. XD I dub this cupcake The White Wolf: it’s a chocolate cake topped with confectionery sugar like the snows over Kaer Morhen, and white icing like Geralt’s hair. The black wrapper is reminiscent of the leather armor of the Wolf School, and of course there’s 2 swords--steel for humans and silver for monsters. There’s a fork stabbing through the cupcake like the pitchfork the mob of peasants used to try and kill Geralt before he lost his memory. :P

Last but certainly not least is Yennefer’s cupcake, in an actual frikkin cup, because she’s a snob. XD True to form, her cake is dressed in black and white -- vanilla cake with chocolate swirls--a perfect compliment and polar opposite to Geralt’s tastes. And of course there’s a lilac flower, and gooseberry toppings, as per her signature perfume. Black raven/crow feathers from her Familiar add that final touch for the greatest sorceress this side of Nilfgaard.

__________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844 

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Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes. 

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door. 

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones. 

Suffice to say, the twins were very different. 

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb. 

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle. 

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips. 

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist. 

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression. 

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”. 

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4” 

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!” 

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work. 

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton. 

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen. 

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler. 

“That’s really good pat-” 

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun. 

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“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school” 

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands. 

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building. 

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job. 

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched. 

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded. 

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe. 

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work” 

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will. 

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director. 

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t  look marginally like a cave. 

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects. 

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before. 

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid” 

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding. 

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep. 

----------------------------------------

Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was. 

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family. 

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree. 

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day. 

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up. 

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

[backandimbamon]

pt. 2 of Bonnie Playing with Damon’s Hair as requested by @godessofbucky 💗

Bonnie gets it.

Gets it as in grabs it and gets in as in understands it, because this is the one thing that will keep her mouth and mind occupied, the singular coping mechanism that isn’t as dangerous as letting her fingers trail through Damon’s hair or letting her mind linger on his lips to dredge up a kiss she pushed so far into her memory, it has cobwebs.

Honey.

But not just any honey; local, raw organic honey that the minimart used to sell before it finally shut down the same day her orange balloon slipped out of her hand and went up, up, and away. The very honey that Abigail Bennett finished in one sitting whilst pregnant, which sent fetus Bonnie into a sugar high and Abby straight to the emergency room.

So when she takes her first spoonful since before she can remember, she gets why this honey almost killed her in the womb with it’s smoky, spicy essence, as dark as molasses and the sweetest jaw-tingling aftertaste.

“Mmmm.” She groans and just like that, all the space Damon takes up in her brain is temporarily supplemented with this miraculous nectar.

By the third day, the bottle is halfway gone and she’s long since abandoned the spoon, instead using her index and middle finger to dip into the jar so deep that her fingertips tap the bottom.

She’s in the middle of sucking the tacky deliciousness off of her knuckles when Damon enters the kitchen then freezes.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks, evaluating her fingers in her mouth like he’s impressed.

Bonnie is obviously annoyed that even her guilty pleasures he has to ruin. (And be apart of.) “Shut up.”

“The little witch elbow-deep in her honey pot. I think I had a dream about this last night.”

Even with how awkward it’s been between them since the incident she’ll never speak on, he can never miss a day of innuendos. It’s her job to put him in check but that seems so exhausting lately.

She sighs. It’s easy to focus on his less appealing characteristics but when he’s constantly serving sex on a platter, all of those things that make her eyes roll become fuzzy…insignificant.

“What’s so special about it anyway?”

“The fact that you can’t taste it,” Bonnie says in between licks.

He takes his thumb along the rim and pops it in his mouth quickly. “Looks like I just did.”

.

“Happy Galentine’s Day!”

Bonnie has a white box the size of her palm with a red ribbon wrapped in fourths. Her hand is outstretched proudly and there’s a genuine, toothy grin on her face.

“Am I supposed to understand what that is?”

According to Bonnie, this May 10th 1994 is actually Valentine’s Day, Elena’s favorite holiday due to the chocolates and flowers and Caroline’s favorite holiday for the excessive use of the color pink.

“Galentine’s day as in-“

“Valentine’s day but for… gals? I hate to break it to you, Bon but there’s this thing between my legs that obstructs my rights to participate.”

“Oh my god. Please just say normal things for once.”

“Normal is so difficult, though.” He grabs the little gift and opens it unceremoniously, discarding the ribbon and box over his shoulder. Just when he’s about to say the day is stupid and the gifts are stupid and they should continue on with figuring out how to escape his stupid repeating hell, Damon stops himself, his mouth still ajar with words unsaid before he settles on half a smile.

It’s a necklace, a thin silver necklace that catches every hint of light, it may as well be chrome. Minimal in its design, discreet if not for the tiny witch’s hat charm attempting to weigh it down.

He looks at Bonnie who has this eager expression on her face asking Do you like it? Do you like it? Do you? Do you?

And he does, he loves it but instead he says, “I hate it.”

.

Most days he misses her.

Especially in moments like these where his bubble bath foam is up to his nose and his water is hot enough to burn him, he thinks of Elena, then he thinks of how awfully empty his bathroom counter looks without all of her bobby pins and he actually anticipates her coming in, leaving bits of herself for him like she normally does without a second thought before he remembers that this is hell.

It’s the morning of Valentine’s Day and only Elena knows that he’s a romantic who’d have the room filled with so many flowers, she’d forget where the doors were.

He sinks a little lower in his tub and tries to hear her voice say his name, with that same weight- same effort- it stabs him how he can never get the tone quite right.

On the brink of despair, covered in bubbles, Damon considers turning off his humanity. For once, he wants to think of doe eyes, olive skin, and brown hair without feeling a damn thing but he can’t. He has to sit with this torture if it ensures that Bonnie is safe.

Bonnie.

Every time her fingers lace through his hair, he thinks of it as her counting to ten, realizing she’s here with another solid body who can exist in the silence and not disappear. He’s become so attached to her, she’s ever the worm that wiggles its way in his thoughts no matter how deep the soil is from the surface.

Damon loves it. She is his one thing he never had to share with anyone, so he wants every bit of her that slips through the cracks of the guard she built years ago. He wants to be apart of Bonnie like the sadness and the beauty, and that’s the only way he can view this place as an opportunity.

Bonnie.

Wearing her backless leotard today like a tiny ballerina that opens with a jewelry box, twirling to her special lullaby. Holding out a gift for him simply because she’s sweeter than that honey she’s addicted to.

He thinks of the kiss. The weight of her lips on his, so soft and timid at first. Her skin the perfect counterpart to his tongue, how the scent in the crook of her neck was enough to make his eyes water with want.

Of course Damon has to say that he hates the necklace to get her to stop looking at him like that, with her eyes wide marbles of pure green hope, as if she trusts him, as if she believes in him. The god of his world looking up at him with admiration- it makes him stop every train of thought he possesses- even the ones that lead straight to Elena.

It’s dangerous, the fact that the little witch has all this power without knowing, so he must wriggle out of her control, look passed her charms and hold on to a hate he can no longer recollect.

.

They’re both just trying to cope, Bonnie with her honey and Damon with his hate to occupy themselves from each other.

He starts an argument with his hand in his pocket, holding on to his favorite necklace like a lifeline as he lies and lies.

She is embarrassed that she allowed herself to care enough to pet a monster.

They argue on Valentine’s Day for hours about things that don’t matter or make sense but the thing is, the two of them have never looked more like a real couple.

.

Bonnie wakes up the next morning to a matte black box next to her. The house is quiet for once, no Boyz II Men or obnoxious whistling, no clinking of pots and pans, no buzzing of the microwave, or sizzling of pancakes; it’s the first time she’s truly felt alone.

She leverages herself, looks around in the silence as if Damon is hiding in the blinds or something then grabs her new quiet companion to place in her lap. Her sudden movement causes a card to flop out from underneath her box that reads I was being a dick in award-winning calligraphy.

“Wow,” she says to herself, admittedly taken aback that his penmanship is better than hers.

“Mmmm,” she mumbles with the smell that greets her when she removes the lid. Down in the box are gorgeous little chocolates, nutty and sweet- and once she takes a bite she realizes they’re caramel-honeyed bonbons. “Awww…”

It’s his way of saying sorry without actually saying it, and he may have a point because these taste way better than an apology.

She’s still in the tank top and underwear she’d slept in, ruling her candies too delicious and too thoughtful to not thank Damon immediately after brushing her teeth. The pink of her fingernails chips ever so slightly with the quickness in which she descends the stairs, fingertips trailing the bannister absentmindedly.

“Damon?” She is only a little worried when he doesn’t reply immediately but apparently he’s in the study with a book up to his face.

“You were being a dick.”

He sets the book in his lap, half-smirk in place. “I was.”

“But I forgive you. Thank you.”

Damon isn’t done just yet, though, he reaches beside him to pick up a jewelry box, identical to the one he opened yesterday except this one is red with a white ribbon around it.

Her eyebrows lift before she grabs it, tosses the ribbon behind her and gasps.

Pearls, two rows of Golden South Sea Pearls that are almost invisible when Damon clasps them against her golden brown skin-a breathtaking necklace that stops right at the base of her neck. The shade of the pearls would make a perfect nude had it not been emphasized with Pigeon Blood Rubies, one on both rows, diagonal to each other as if she’s been bitten.

“Oh my god,” she touches them with her fingertips, stunned.

“Happy Day-After Valentine’s Day, Bonnie.”

.

Despite all he’s done to prove he’s sorry, there’s an actual apology probing the insides of his mouth. Even worse, an explanation as to why he’s been so grumpy lately. As he’s about to tell her everything, Bonnie says, “I miss her too, you know?” She has a knack for streamlining his thoughts. “So it’s not an excuse.”

“I know, you’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

She looks at him mockingly, hand at her heart and mouth agape, “Damon admitting he’s wrong?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I simply said you’re right. And you are, now let’s move on.”

They’re smiling at each other the way that two ultra best friends do, yet his eyes dip to her mouth and she mirrors him. Bonnie averts her gaze to reach for her honey that’s never too far away but Damon pushes it out of her grasp.

He lays his head in her lap and soon after, her fingertips are tracing through tufts of raven soft hair gentle enough that his eyelashes flutter.

Damon believes the little witch can weave webs of gold with fingers so gentle and he’d tangle himself all up in it without her having to ask.

[artzee-bee]

Flower crown worthy of a princess| Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer (Netflix)

Request: “ Can you write reader and Lucifer Who have spent a few hard days and run away from others together and go on a forest picnic and finally dance together in the forest. Forgive me I know it's ridiculous. ”

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

~~~

You could barely contain your excitement as you were tying your shoes and checking your bag to make sure you had everything you needed. Lucifer already texted you saying he was waiting for you outside of your apartment building. 

Both of you had been going through a very stressful last couple of weeks. Work life was busy for both of you and you were constantly exhausted and on edge, to the point where, when you hung out, you would be too tired to do anything fun, and would spend your time in complete silence, either on your phone or napping.

“I just wanna get away from it all” you said to him one night

“Give me a time and date and I’ll be right there with you, my dear”

At first it was a silly joke, a hopeless dream perhaps, but the more Lucifer thought about it, the more it began to sound like a real possibility. He approached you again, a couple days later, about running away for ‘just a couple days’. You gave in a lot easier than you’d like to admit, but a weekend far away with Lucifer sounded like a dream come true, so you agreed to it. From there on, he swore to take care of all the details. All you needed to do was be ready to get picked up shortly after work on Friday.

You skipped down the stairs, running out the front door of your apartment complex, only to see Lucifer in the parking lot, leaning against his car. He was dressed in a red suit, cigarette between his teeth, he didn’t even seem to notice you until you yelled his name

“Ah, there’s my pretty lady!” he said, extinguishing the cigar and leaning in to give you a kiss. You could still taste the smoke on his lips

“Are you ready?”

“More than ever”

“That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear!”

You hopped in the car and off you went. Miles and miles of road ahead, you didn’t even know where you were going really but the fresh air was running through your hair and the radio was softly playing a bunch of 80s songs. Lucifer’s hand was on your thigh and you couldn’t help but think that if heaven was real, it must feel something like this.

Lucifer drove further and further away, until the city became a mere memory. You couldn’t look through the windows of cafes and fancy boutiques as you rode by anymore, instead you were delighted by the view of green fields and tall trees that made you feel like they would swallow you whole. You tried to get your boyfriend to tell you where you were going, but to no avail.

Eventually you reached a little dead end, in the middle of the forest. Lucifer parked the car and got out to open your door for you

“Is this the big surprise? A dead end street in the middle of nowhere?” you teased

“It sure is my love” his casual voice made you think for just a second that maybe this was it, but before you had time to think that through, Lucifer led you around the trees and bushes in front of which he parked the car, revealing a little open area, in the middle of the forest. You could hear water running somewhere to your right, letting you know there was a little river nearby. The trees were so tall, they felt like they were shielding you from every worry and every bad thing that happened back home and in the middle of it all, there was a little red blanket on the ground. A picnic basket was patiently waiting there, with a flower crown atop.

“Lucifer, did you do this?”

“Who else, darling?” he laughed

“But...when?” you found it hard to say anything. The view before you was astonishing and all you could do was look around to inspect every single detail

“A devil never reveals his secrets” he teased. Lucifer led you to the blanket and picked up the flower crown, placing it on your head

“A little gift for my beautiful princess. It’s not quite like the jewels we see while shopping but I think it suits you much better than gold or silver.” and he was so right! The crown was rich and full of colorful flowers, which complimented your hair color perfectly. Plus, you had never been the materialistic type.

“Thank you Luci” 

“Pleasure is all mine, as always” he smiles down at you before grabbing your hand and gesturing for you to sit down.

The basket was full to the top with all sorts of different things. You had everything, from your favorite sandwiches to fruits and snacks, chocolate muffins and ice tea. Music from the car was playing softly in the background. Lucifer even took the time to make a special playlist with both of your favorite songs. You spent so much time there, it began getting pretty cold, so Luci took off his suit jacket and handed it to you. The day was magical, but like all good things, it had to come to an end. Once it started getting dark, you and Lucifer both concluded it was probably time to start packing and leave. You carefully packed away all of the packages  and folded the blanket, but right as you were about to hop in the car, you noticed your favorite song coming from the speakers. With a playful smile on your face, you grabbed Lucifer’s hand and dragged him back to where your picnic had been

“Love, what are you doing?”

“Dance with me?” you said, holding out your hand for him to take

“Well, I can’t say no to that'' Lucifer immediately took you into his arms. Your hands went around his neck and his were holding your waist as you swayed back and forth to the slow music. Lucifer was looking into your eyes the entire time, with an awestruck expression.

“What?” you asked, giggling

“You're so beautiful, you know that?” you blushed at him

“Yeah, you make sure to remind me everyday” “And I’ll keep doing that until the end of time because you, my darling, deserve it” as he said these things, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, in a soft and gentle kiss. You poured all of your love and soul into kissing him back and it still felt like it wasn’t enough. No matter what you did, you could never love this man enough. Finally, you broke the kiss, and as Lucifer pulled away, he accidently knocked off your crown, making both of you laugh.

“It’s fine I guess, we’re leaving anyways” he said, pulling you in the direction of the car

“Wait, no!” you picked the colorful braid of flowers up, inspecting it carefully “I wanna keep it”

“What for?” “To remember tonight”

“And what are you gonna use it for?”

Years later, that flower crown is hanging above your desk at home. You and Lucifer are married now, and he still teases you about keeping the dried flowers on the wall, but you don’t care, because everytime you look at it, you are reminded of how much you love this man, and always will

[english8muffin]

Cozy winter

Summary: going to the market, being cheeky in the parking lot and a warm cuddly morning sprinkled with some funny-business

Warning: Cute banter, smut (NSFW), fluff

Word count: Around 5300 words!

I want to open this with one of my favorite quotes ever, so if you allow me ;)

“Go into the arts. I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”  -Kurt Vonnegut 

“We need muffins.”

“We don’t NEED muffins, what we need are some fresh fruit and vegetables, ” Henry butts in. You frown and look up at him, “Oh whatever, Hen. You eat your greens, beans, potatoes and tomatoes, while I get fat by munching on some sweet, sweet, delicious chocolate muffins.”

 He sends you a smirk from across the aisle. It was always fun to do mundane things, like going to get coffee together or grocery shopping, when he was home from filming. The last year you went to university it was very hard to be away from him for such a long time, especially when you still lived in Europe. You would fly over to England once in a blue moon, when Henry was in London and your schedule would allow it. Other times your relationship existed out of phone and video calls. It was a rough period, if you have to be honest. But It made the two of you closer and your bond stronger. It’s true what they say, absence does make the heart grow fonder. 

You let Henry know you were going to get the ingredients for the muffins and start pushing the shopping cart in the direction of the baking supplies. As you walk back to the fresh produce section, you get distracted. So many colorful packaging was just screaming your name…

“What the- lovey! I thought you were going to get your muffin ingredients,” Henry cackles and almost doubles over seeing the now full shopping cart.

It took you a second to answer, a bit too focused on his beautiful face and the smile lines that appeared when he laughed. You quickly try to defend yourself, so he doesn’t think you have no self-control, even though, you know your eyes were bigger than your stomach.

“No! I did get them, they’re just underneath the other bags,” you trail off, eyes drifting to the floor. You sigh, “I just saw this aisle with all the snacks. These magnificent snacks. And, Hen, I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life! And, Hen-Henry! Henry, listen! Stop laughing at me! It was a moment of weakness! You can’t judge me! You don’t even know how they taste, I promise you, you will understand once you take a bite of everything!”

Henry wipes away a small tear at the corner of his eye and kisses the top of your head. You stroll around the aisles, trying to work through the rest of your grocery list, but suddenly you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hen,” you say, trying to get his attention. He gives you a hum in return, letting you know he heard you, “why on god’s green earth does my grocery list say ‘sex’?” You tilt your head up to his face, seeing a bashful grin. 

You shake your head, clicking your tongue disapprovingly, “it isn’t even on top of the list! You put your oatmeal protein shake before sex, fuck, you even put curry before sex, you really need to get your priorities straight!”

After getting some more stuff, like pak choi, steak, tofu and the ingredients for Henry’s beloved curry you always make him, you walk to the register. 

The petite Asian lady gives you a smile and takes a little peak at Henry, who was too busy looking at the various Chinese cough drops that are displayed in front of the counter. Her brows rise behind her thick glasses, “哇，大帅哥。你很幸运啊。” (Wow, big handsome man. You are very lucky, ah.) She says, turning back to you and winking. You can’t help but chuckle. Grinning you send her an ‘I know’-look.

Hearing your laugh, Henry looks over his shoulder with a questioning look. But you just smile and shake your head.

You two quickly get everything in the reusable shopping bags you brought with you. It was getting late and more people were getting off of work and wanted to do some last-minute grocery shopping. Henry takes both of the flower printed bags and the two of you walk to the car. It was getting colder, your breath turning into puffs of smoke. You look up at the sky glooming over you. They promised snow tonight. 

Seeing Henry load the bags in the trunk, his ass proudly sticking out in the air, you give it a pinch. You just couldn’t resist. It was just there, so you better make use of the situation. 

Feeling your hand touch his behind, Henry turns around, an unamused look on his face.

“Excuse me, miss. But that is mine,” he says, really playing up his posh accent.  “I sure hope you disinfected those filthy little paws of yours.” He cutely scrunches his nose, doing a once over and trying so hard to keep himself from smiling, but failing miserably. He turns back around and arranges the bags in the booth so they won’t tip over.

There is a moment of silence, just the noise from cars driving up and off the parking. From the corner his eye Henry sees the stare you give him but ignores it with a small smirk.

“You know,” you begin with a cheeky undertone, making him curious, “I bet I could kick your ass,” you grin, looking at him and trying to gauge his reaction. 

“What was that, doll?”

“You heard me, big lad!”

“Oh really?” He asks and looks at you, towering over you like a brick wall. His eyes glimmering with mischief. Yeah, no, this was NOT a good idea. 

You squirm a little and a small nervous giggle leaves your lips.

“Yes, I can. Watch m-AHHHH! HENRY!” You squeal as he lifts you and throws you over his shoulder, fully forgetting you are in public. “Let me down, you caveman!” You laugh, slapping his left ass cheek. But he ignores your plea and just slaps your ass in return. 

Wiggling a little, you challenge him, “Beat me up! Come on, do it!” 

He turns his head and playfully bites the exposed skin by your hip, making you shriek like a little kid. 

Henry lets out a loud belly laugh and puts you back on your feet. As soon as the tips of your Dr. Martens touch the pavement, you get pushed against the car. Trapping you between the icy cold black metal and his warm body. His arm goes around your waist and pulls you closer to his front.

“I love you.” The words are hushed but you hear them loud and clear, making a shiver go down your spine. The both of you look at each other, completely enamored and grinning like idiots. Noses and the apples of your cheeks rosy, bitten from the cold.

“I love you too,” you whisper back. His hand glides inside your coat and underneath the thick knitted jumper you finished to other day. He just needed to feel you. You lean up a little and gently push your lips to his, adoring the familiar warmth that fell over you whenever you’d kiss. Before you can come in for a second smooch, he frowns at you. 

“Thought you were going to beat my ass?” He mocks, trying to imitate your accent. 

Lightly tapping your finger against your chin, you pretend to be in thought. 

“Well, this is much more fun.”

“Hmm, agreed,” he grins, already eyeing your red swollen lips and tilting his head towards yours. 

You hear heavy footsteps coming closer, the wooden floorboards slightly creaking under the weight. It was getting dark outside, the overhead lights in the kitchen casting a homey hue down on the oak countertops. Your ‘cooking playlist’ was filling the room with some gentle tunes. You also had a ‘dancing in the kitchen playlist’ but that one was mostly used in the mornings. You hum along to the melody when stirring in the stew you were preparing for the evening, rocking your hips side to side. The stew was softly bubbling away, spreading an amazing aroma around the house. 

The footsteps stop behind you. A moment later two big, sweater wrapped arms envelop around you, delicately caressing you. Henry lovingly pulls your loose braid to the side and places his head onto your shoulder, trying to get a peak at what was in front of you on the stove. 

“What smells so good in here?” Just then Henry’s stomach makes a loud grumbling noise from the mouthwatering smell going on in the kitchen, you chuckle. 

He had been gaming before this, you could hear the tiredness in his voice, it was a bit lower and more hoarse than normal. Whenever he was tired like this, he’d just turn into your big cuddly bear, you loved it. 

Dinner was almost done. You made one of the dishes your grandma used to make for you when you were younger. You won’t lie, it was pretty difficult at first to decipher the little recipe she send you in the post, but now you knew it by heart. 

“Cantonese style braised beef stew with white radish, bean curd sheets and a side of rice,” you inform him and brush your hand over his, that was placed on your stomach. Hearing that, he has to make sure he’s not drooling.

“And for dessert…” You nod your head toward the piping hot apple crumble pie currently cooling on the kitchen island. “We still have some vanilla ice cream if you want to have that with your pie. I know you want to be healthy, but I just really wanted to make a pie and this one does have filling,” you ramble, joking on the last part about the filling. He probably thought you were pestering him with his diet that most likely didn’t allow him to eat it. 

You wince a bit, feeling him tense against you. “You don’t have to eat it, my love, promise!”

“No petal, you’re just… you’re just so perfect,” Henry admits, pressing a kiss just below the strap of the pistachio green apron you were wearing, nuzzling his nose in your tousled hair.

It was a gloomy Saturday morning in London. If your alarm hadn’t gone off, you wouldn’t have known it was morning already.

Yesterday after dinner, the two of you cuddled up on the sofa, under a warm blanket with Kal snuggled up on your lap. His head resting in your lap, while his tail occasionally slapped Henry in the face, making you burst out laughing and Henry almost choke on the fur. The akita would fondly press his snout deeper against you, really loving the head scratches he was receiving. Both you and Henry were fully satisfied with the tasty dinner you had paired with a glass of wine and were now cheekily flirting with each other while watching a detective movie, of which you missed the plot because you were, well, differently occupied…

Now the bedroom held a calm, soft aura, a dim light streaming in through the linen curtains. You let out a little whimper, not wanting to leave the bubble you are in and stretch out your limbs. A bit sore from sleeping in a weird angle, amongst other things. Behind you, you hear a small sound of protest and before you know it, you are engulfed by a strong arm. Henry hides his face in the side of your neck, keeping his eyes closed, groaning, clearly displeased with the fact it was morning already. 

You smile, this was your favorite kind of morning. Warm and cozy in bed, cuddling with your boyfriend. You turn around, careful to not let any cold air under the duvet, your arm going around the large form beside you and curling your fingers in the mess of curly hair. Henry moaned, burying his face lower, between your breasts. Now fully content and still a bit dazed by sleep, he lets out the most awful snore. Even though he sounded like a drowning goat when he snored, you couldn’t do anything other than coo and gently scratch your fingers on his scalp, lovingly gazing at the man beside you. 

“Are we going to be lazy couch potatoes today?” You chuckle, placing a kiss on his forehead, wild curls tickling your nose as you do so. Your voice was still a little raspy, but Kal apparently still heard you, and pushed open the door to come snuggle in bed with his favorite humans. 

“What time is it?” Henry groans. 

“Around 8.”

“We can be busy bees if you want,” Henry whispered against the swell of your breast, peppering delicate kisses on the bare skin. “Or better yet, busy bunnies.”

Kal was now situated on the end of the bed, head on his paws while the serenity of the room made him doze off. His dad on the other hand was now slowly waking up, as his hand crept lower and lower over your body. You giggled and pushed his hand away.

“There is a child present ,” you motion towards a sleeping Kal, who lays stretched out on the feathery duvet, already heading off to dreamland looking content as ever. Henry lifts his head, peering at his buddy and snorts, “he’s seen much worse, haven’t you bear?” But he doesn’t get acknowledged. 

Laying his head back, he reaches up to push your hair out of your face before grabbing your cheek and pulling you down for a kiss. He places three kisses on your swollen lips, lightly sucking on the bottom one.

“May-,” you try to say something, but he just pushes his mouth harder against yours. Quickly taking the opportunity to stop you from making excuses. A hoarse chuckle rumbles from his chest, as he wraps you in his arms.

“Stop talking, woman, and kiss me back.” You let out a small moan and grip the curls you were playing with moments ago. He deepens the kiss slightly, tongue invading your mouth, surprising you. A subdued hum escapes your mouth, resulting in him grabbing the back of your neck, as the other rests on your hip. The kiss gets deeper and more passionate as the minutes go by. Getting a bit overwhelmed you pull back slowly, softy panting. 

“Hmm, so sweet, darling,” he says smugly, earning a little smack to the chest as a bright blush covers your cheeks. Like it wasn’t already hard enough to resist him and stay in the warm bed all morning, he does this. Henry rolls your naked body over so you’re straddling him, a large hand wraps itself around your hair. He tugs, not too hard though, so he has more access to shower open mouthed kisses on your neck and chest. Leaving you a breathless mess on top of him. His hands trail from the top of your back to your rear, squeezing your cheeks before giving them a fast slap, making you take in a breath. 

From all the shuffling, little snickers and kissing noises, Kal woke up and groaned, irritated that his humans couldn’t just hanky-panky somewhere else. With a last disapproving look, he jumps off the bed, landing with a thump. From the sound of paws hitting the wooden floor and toddling down the stairs, you look over your shoulder, duvet falling down so you sat there fully naked, much to Henry’s delight. 

Then you felt it. It was normal for Henry to get hard in the morning. To be honest, he would be a bit worried if his cock wasn’t hard first thing when waking up.

Involuntarily you grind down, drawing a heavy moan from deep in his chest. Holding intense eye contact with him, you start humping over his bare front, mewling like a kitten in heat. It was embarrassing how he had you wrapped around his finger. A cheeky smile formed on his face, “look who came around.” Your body was practically begging for sex. 

Pouting, you keep on moving your hips in a tantalizing slow rhythm, scratching at his hairy chest. Making sure you kept your eyes on his, he licked his three middle fingers and a second later you feel him reaching between your thighs, wiping his fingers down your slit. Tensing up a little, you try to hold back a grunt at the sensation. 

“Oh darling,” he started, his voice going an octave lower, “what a mess you’ve made.”

He pulls back and observes your reaction when he pops his finger in his mouth.

“Wet and sweet, like always.”

“You are so nasty,” you whisper in total awe at what he manages to do to your body. He snickers and you quickly grab his hand, pushing it back between your thighs, “I didn’t tell you to stop, though.”

Your jaw goes slack, the moment you feel his thick fingers moving in and out of you. He was hitting just the right spot, making you groan and throw your head back. He felt like he couldn’t hold back anymore, he quickly flips you over so he’s on top of you, fully trapping you underneath his body and smashes his mouth on yours. Everything was happening so fast that you couldn’t pay attention to every incredible thing he was making you feel. Taking his cock in hand, he rubs his shaft against you, up and down, pressing it so you could feel the length. You look up at him, veins bulging in his neck, eyes dark, face already becoming flushed. God, he was so sexy. Grabbing your legs, he pushes your knees back so you were completely spread open and at his mercy. 

He curses under his breath and lines himself up with you sticky center. Stifling your moans and pants, by pressing his lips to yours, when he slowly sinks his thick cock inside. 

“Oh my god,” you whine, feeling him stretching your walls apart, pushing himself deeper and deeper. 

“Y’feel so warm and tight, my love. M’so hard it hurts.” Henry whines against your lips, lacing his fingers in between yours. He trails kisses in your neck and under your ear, trying to get as close to you as possible. He loved feeling your body against his. Your walls were so plushy and wet for his cock, he wanted to stay buried in you forever. 

“M’gonna make you feel so good, darling,” he whispers in your ear. You whine softly, getting worked up, “please.”

He smirked, obviously liking your plea. 

Instead of giving you a nice, hard pounding, Henry wanted to go slow. It was still very early in the morning, the both of you still barely awake and he wanted to savor this moment with you.

“Oh, Hen-,” you pant softly, loving every bit of it. As he pushes deeper into you, you can feel his entire weight pressing down against you. The weight comforted you in a sense, like others would with a weighted blanket. He prolonged his strokes, making sure that when he slid out you could feel every centimeter of him, but then slid back in quickly. 

“Fuck.” He grumbles into your neck, “feels so good, love,” he praises, nibbling on the skin under your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair pulling it back. You move you hands from his grasp and push them up his broad shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

“So good,” you moan out to him, feeling his cock nudge at the extremely sensitive spot deep inside your core. He lifts his head to look at you, seeing your mouth formed into the letter ‘o’, head tilted back into the cloud-like pillow and eyes screwed shut. A string of desperate moans falls from your lips. 

This was what he loved, seeing his love, his girl react to the way he was pleasuring her. Just looking at you in this state made his orgasm coil up in the pit of his tummy. He never would have dreamed that another person could give him this feeling, the feeling of utter bliss when you were together. The unconditional love he felt for you was indescribable. 

Henry continues to thrust into you and attaches his lips to yours, feeling you squeeze around him. You manage to spread your legs even wider and wrap them securely around his slim waist, digging your heels just above the globes of his perfectly sculpted ass. 

He was aiming his stokes into the deepest part of you and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release. 

“Fuck,” you whimper out to him, digging your nails into the skin of his back. He knew you were about to cum. You let out another loud moan. 

“Come on, petal. Cum f’me,” he pants, trying to coax you. Hearing the almost desperate tone in his voice, combined with the sound of him slapping his hips to yours and the feeling of his cock moving in and out of you was becoming overwhelming. 

“Oh my god!” A loud moan ripples through you, the feeling of your release coming near. 

“Almost, my love,” he moans, speeding up the pace of his thrust. He inhales sharply, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulls you up, quickly pounding into you. Completely losing control, trying to get deeper as if that was possible and lets his forehead rest against yours. With one last push of his hips, you get to your breaking point and cum, screaming. Henry feels your walls clamp around him and let’s go, fully satisfied. The noise he made was an orgasm on its own. He keeps himself against you when he lets go inside of you. You could feel Henry’s cum filling you as you slowly come down from your high. You feel his cum dripping out of you, almost proud of what you made him do. 

He is about to roll off of you to cuddle up beside you, but you stop him by tightening your legs around him. “Please stay like this,” you whisper, your brain still a bit muddled by the amazing orgasm you just had seconds ago. He smiles down at you.

“Don’t be a silly goose,” he kisses your nose, “I would crush you,” Henry says endeared with a cheeky grin and pulls you into his side. You feel warm and safe. You yawn, blinking away when your eyes become watery.

“I can’t move,” biting your bottom lip, you snuggle closer to him, “and my throat hurts like hell.”

Henry lowers his hand to your ass and gives it a firm squeeze, “I’m not surprised. Oh doll, the sounds you were making,” he bites his bottom lip, closing his eyes. 

You laugh and roll your eyes. Henry nipped at your neck, making you erupt into a fit giggles. He chuckles, leaving a kiss on the spot he had just bitten. 

Henry trails his hands up and down your back. You closed your eyes and tangle your leg in between his, really liking the feeling. His chest was heavenly and just being in his arms felt amazing. He almost lulled you back to sleep the moment he began to run his fingers through your hair. 

“That good, huh? Almost fucked you back to sleep,” he chuckles. 

“It was alright, I guess,” you tease him. He raises his eyebrows, eyes twinkling with joy. 

“How would you rate the experience?” 

Tilting your head to look up at him, “Hmm, ten I guess.”

He looked very pleased with that.

“Out of twenty,” you finish. 

“OUT OF TWENTY?” He sobered up, staring at your face with a shocked expression. 

You snicker, climbing into his lap, “No, honey, I was just joking, I’m sorry.” A big pout forming on your face, making you look oh so innocent. 

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to put you up on all fours and take you like that, don’t tempt me,” he says, shaking his head. Wiggling your brows you grin and kiss the dimple on his chin. 

“As much as I would enjoy that, I think Kal has to go potty and we have to eat.”

After some hushed pillow talk and hoarse giggles between the silky sheets, you two decide to move downstairs and start making some fresh coffee. When you lift your body out of the bed, a light throbbing shoots between your legs. You almost fall back into the mattress, making Henry roar with laughter. You end up getting a piggy back ride down the stairs, only wearing a v-neck shirt from Henry that fell just below the curve of your ass and showed plenty of cleavage. Your lilac panties were fully on display and your almost black hair looked like a lion’s main on top of your head, but you didn’t care. 

The both of you were still in that bubbly, fulfilled state of mind, looking like two drugged out kids, wearing blissful smiles. When you got to the kitchen, Kal bounded around the corner, coming from the sitting area, his tail wildly sweeping through the air. Eyes sparkling with happiness when he saw his parents finally had left the bed. 

“早上，宝宝” (morning, baby) You greet him, still on Henry’s back. Kal gives you a high “woof” as to say good morning back. After living with Henry and Kal for around eight months now, the akita started to pick up on a few Chinese phrases. He even decided the pet name ‘宝宝’ (bao bao), which means baby or darling, was only to be applied on him and nobody else. 

Every time you would video call with your Chinese speaking friends, and they talked about or to their children, Kal would cheerfully patter over, thinking they were cooing at him instead of the small infant in the background. But you thought it was the sweetest thing ever, he was your little fur baby after all. 

“I’m going to make us some omelets, is that alright with you, darling,” Henry asked, already opening the fridge and looking for the carton of eggs.

“Yeah, ‘course,” you call out to him. You give Kal his breakfast and receive many, wet kisses in return. Shuffling back over to your boyfriend, you lean against the dark green counter with its wooden countertops, and look at him carefully chopping up some bell peppers and onion, only wearing his joggers and a tank top. You were a lucky girl, and you knew it. Henry sends you a grin and winks before turning back to cutting the vegetables.

You begin to brew some fresh coffee for Henry, and put on the kettle for your morning tea. While he was finishing up breakfast, you start to read the newspaper to him. He absolutely adored it when you’d read to him, due to your accent becoming more noticeable. Kal came over to you, stuffing his wet nose against the hand you held out to him. “You’re such a good boy, Kal. Yes, you are,” you tell him in a baby voice, “you’re my little angel aren’t you? 我的小天使” 

You clean the table, after eating your breakfast and get ready for the day. Henry was already out to go on a walk with Kal. It did indeed snow last night and everything outside was hidden underneath a thin sheet of white snow, so you made sure Henry was wrapped up in a thick scarf you made him and a black beanie. After giving you a kiss as if he was off to fight in a war, he and Kal happily walked through the front door, into the freezing cold. Him whistling and Kal buzzing with excitement. 

Brushing your teeth and doing your makeup, you dance through the bathroom, in a good mood. You grab your phone that was propped up against the mirror, planning to put on the podcast you had been enjoying lately. You freeze seeing all the notifications, not having heard your phone due to it being on ‘quiet’. You swallow.

Oh shit.

There you were, plastered on the internet for everyone to see and laugh at. You and Henry making out on the parking lot of the Chinese supermarket. Was he going to be angry with you? It was your fault for teasing him after all. Oh no no no…

‘Henry Cavill and girlfriend were spotted having a steamy make out session outside local grocery store’

The headline read, making your face as red as a tomato. Trying to fight against it, you couldn’t hold yourself from reading the next paragraph. 

Being in the middle of winter, doesn’t stop these two lovebirds from having a heated make out session in a parking lot!

Yesterday early in the evening, Witcher-superstar Henry Cavill was spotted with (to some) much younger girlfriend, designer, Y/N Y/L/N. The two have  recently confirmed their relationship with an Instagram post from Cavill, showing a candid of Y/N, with the short caption ‘My sunshine enjoying the sun shine’. Last month Vogue came out with a video featuring Y/L/N in which Cavill and his dog Kal made an appearance, making fans go wild. It seems like the two really are living the life and we are excited to see more of them together!

Want to know more about the stars? Subscribe to STAR NEWS! 

This was it. You could already hear your sweet grandma, praying to the ancestors to forgive you for your sins, lighting all the incense she could find. You were a disgrace to the family now. It wasn’t that you were ashamed or felt bad about doing it, hell, everybody in the position would gladly sit on Henry’s shoulders and stick their tongue down his throat. You were just disappointed you got caught.

From downstairs you hear the door close with a loud thump and the pitter-patter from Kal’s nails on the hardwood floor, letting you know your two boys were back home. You nervously descend the flight of stairs, holding your head low and tightly clutching your phone in hand. 

“Hey, lovey! you really missed something, Kal and I could practically ice skate over the walking trails, it was so much fun!” Henry says enthusiastically as he hears you wander into the living room. You ignore him and plop down on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes. 

A frown makes its way onto his face. 

“What are you sorry for, sweet girl?” His eyes hold a concerned look, not understanding what you were talking about. You huff out a breath and hand him your phone so he could see the article. 

A roaring laugh sounds through the open space, making your head shoot up. “Yeah, I saw it this morning when I went and checked my Instagram,” he chuckles, face still rosy from going outside. 

“We really gave the paparazzi a field day, didn’t we?” He continues.

“Your ass looks great in this pic, though. Look,” pointing to the one were he had you lifted over his shoulder, but softens his voice when he sees how tense you were. 

“Aw, doll, loosen up, I’m not mad or anything, if that’s what you think. I’m rather pleased now that everybody can see how happy we are and how much joy you bring me,” he lets you know nonchalantly, pressing a smooch to your forehead and starts to march towards the kitchen.

“You want another cuppa, lovey?”

And just like that, you were back in your good mood, perplexed at how well he took all of this. 

Don’t be a silent reader! Show some love by reblogging and commenting, did it make you laugh, scream, smile? Let me know, it would make my day!

Much love, Nahmi xxx

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[nikethestatue]

The Heirs of Shadow

Prompt: here

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Language and Fluff

Part I

Calanmai

 The shadows danced along the obsidian walls of the chamber, jumping and fluttering across the marble floor and the intertwining carved beasts that scaled the width of the room, waving across the walls and the ceiling.

Behind the doors, Elain could feel the pulsating throb of the revelry that was taking place in the opulent halls and loggias of Hewn City. Fire Night. Calanmai. Beyond the onyx-black bowels of the city, up, up, up somewhere in Night Court, the night skies were streaking with falling stars. Starfall.

Starfall was somewhere else though—they had glimpsed it, taken in its beauty, but now, Calanmai was in full swing.

Azriel’s powerful, muscular body strained over hers, his arm gripping her hip so hard, she was sure that it would leave bruises. Not that Elain cared—she loved the marking of his love on her flesh. She loved the lilac bruises that he left on her neck with his lips and teeth, and the outline of his hands on her thighs, her waist, her…everywhere. For a man who was known for his self-control, and who embodied cold, calculated sophistication and cruelty to all those who did not know him well, Azriel, the Spymaster of the Night Court, loved Elain Archeron with an uncharacteristic degree of unrestrained passion and blind, all-encompassing adoration. He was not above kissing her with uninhibited ambition in public, or slipping his scarred hand into her jacket and cupping a handful of her soft breast or pinching her behind when fancy struck him. It struck him frequently. His love was reciprocated, at last, and there was no limit to his indulging of his gorgeous female. His betrothed and his Lady. The glittering band of her betrothal bracelet was testament not only to their mutual love, but also his wealth and the degree to which he was willing to spoil her. In fact, he had picked out every diamond, every amethyst, every pearl that comprised the intricate flower design of the bracelet himself. Gone were the days when he had to hide his love and desire for her, when the only acceptable gift was a dainty necklace of stained glass. In fact, he designed a very similar necklace for her yet again, only instead of glass, it was rubies and pearls and pink diamonds.

The glint of the necklace in fact, bounced against her creamy skin, the pendant sliding between her swaying breasts. He kissed her, slow and hot, watching her body arch beneath him. The kiss was slow, but not gentle, their mouths fusing together in desperation, as if they’ve been apart for too long, that the previous 500 years were unbearable for him and he needed to fill his lungs with her, with her breath, her very soul, as he sucked and sucked on her lips.

Elain’s nails sunk into his broad, thickly muscled shoulders, and Azriel dipped his head, groaning into her throat, dragging his tongue from her hot, pulsating vein back to her lips, sliding back into her mouth. She kissed him back, sloppy and heated, her lips swollen and ruby-red, before pressing the heel of her palm into his chest and pushing at him.

“I want to look at you,” she moaned, her eyelids heavy with want.

He pulled up and did as he was told, settling on his knees and allowing her to trace the skin of his cobbled abdomen with her fingertips. He was running hot and volatile, his dark brown skin gleaming like dirty bronze beneath the faelights, his wings spayed and open behind him, casting shadows on his sculpted, inked shoulders. His soft, inky-black hair fell across his forehead, sticking slightly to his damp skin, and she smiled at him and rubbed her thumb between his eyebrows.

His thick cock glided in and out of her tight glorious heat and he pushed inside of her with an obscene, wet sound, feeling the smooth thrust of his shaft in her.

“My good girl,” he murmured, extracting loud, explicit moans from her parted lips, while his thumb settled on her pulsating, engorged clit, rubbing firmly, with precise, firm pressure. Elain’s head rolled back, her honey-golden hair fanning out over the dark-gray satin of the pillows. She felt overflowing, torturously stuffed with him, which was the most glorious, gorgeous fullness that she could ever imagine.

“Open up for me, beautiful,” he ground out, “so I can ride you like you need,”

Elain obliged compliantly, wordlessly splitting even further for him, as Azriel gripped her thigh and pulled her deeper onto his shaft, while hoisting her leg onto his shoulder.

“Look at us, my love,” he urged, thrusting harder into her, his gaze gluttonous with pleasure and utter satisfaction. Elain could barely lift herself up on her elbows, but she looked between their bodies, watching her splayed pink folds, his member disappearing in and out of her, glistening with their arousal. His long brazen finger thrust alongside his shaft, the fit impossibly tight, but so wonderfully pleasurable.

She squeezed her breasts in her palms, absently fingering her nipples, watching the explicit show between her legs, while Azriel smiled at her and kissed her foot that rested on his shoulder. She bit her lower lip, enjoying the indecent scrutiny with which his eyes skimmed over her body, as both of them watched the workings of his cock inside of her.

“Do you want to taste, my sweet?” he offered, his midnight voice smooth and sensual, encouraging even more debauched behavior from her, and she nodded eagerly.

Licking her lips impatiently, she murmured, ‘yes’ and he rewarded her with a smile, while slowly pulling out of her stretched passage.

“Az, my love,” she moaned, emptied of him, instantly missing the presence of his thick, long member in her, her hole twitching at the loss. But he pulled her up gently by her back of her neck and instantly fed the shaft in her mouth, thrusting deep and far into her throat. She choked softly around him, but swallowed compliantly, sucking his length down into her mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he approved, holding the back of her head and pumping between her lips, watching her watch him. Her eyes, the color of milk chocolate, blinked rapidly, as she struggled against the girth of the member, but sucked on his bravely and eagerly. He enjoyed the sucking, noisy and wet, her tongue working on him constantly, licking their intermingling juices, but then he patted the corner of the bed, and Elain knew what he desired. She scooted over, and lay back on the cool sheets, never releasing the cock from her mouth, holding it tightly in her hand, as she lapped on the broad head of it, playfully dipping the tip of her tongue into the tiny slit.

They’ve been at it for hours now. Calanmai. Fucking, eating, drinking, fucking, fucking. That’s what people did on Calanmai. Elain figured that perhaps, this would be her new favorite holiday. Always to be celebrated here, in Hewn City, her new home.

The Lord and Lady of Hewn City, feared and venerated—that’s what they were. Who would have thought that Elain would love Hewn City, its obsidian beauty, its marble and granite lined ‘streets’, its unbridled opulence, its soaring columns, its ceilings lit up with faelights that were ensconced in chandeliers that were dripping crystals and silver.

They had begun today’s festivities by following its ancient custom of the Great Rite. As the Lady and Lord of the Underworld, they did not need to ‘choose’ each other, for they were already chosen—chosen the moment the Darkbringers acknowledged Azriel as their Commander General, and Rhysand how no other choice but to pass the crown of Stewardship to his shadowsinger. With Keir dead, all assumed that the magic and the power of the Hewn City and the Darkbringers would pass on to Mor, or one of the sons, yet, it skipped the family entirely. The magic of Hewn City left the bloodline of the High Lord, moving over to Azriel’s line. And just like that, Azriel became Prince of Velaris, the Lord of Hewn City, and Elain, his chosen Lady.

Today was the first year they presided over Fire Night, and while Azriel worried about Elain, she reminded him that she was the Lady of Hewn City and therefore, would participate in all rites and rituals, just like Feyre participated in them as the High Lady of the Night Court.

The entire population of Hewn City, tens of thousands of them vibrated and pulsed in anticipation, gathered in the Great Hall, hundreds spilling outside, thousands crowding the balconies and terraces above.

For Elain, it was the initial walk that was the most nerve wrecking. Naked, she was expected to enter the hall and await Azriel’s arrival. But she squared her shoulders, and draped in nothing but jasmine and moonflowers that cascaded down her unbound hair she made her walk, regal and unhurried, as any queen. When he’d arrived, the new Lord and master of the place, the place shook with a different kind of energy.

And then, they joined together on their throne, in front of their subjects, and Azriel rode her long and hard, until she barely remembered that she was being watched by thousands of eyes. She was eager and willing, taking him in any position that he desired, until he filled her with seed and spilled the rest of it upon the stones of his domain, signifying the start of Calanmai.

The insemination was met with wild cheering and Elain felt nothing but prideful satisfaction after the ritual was concluded and his seed dripped down her thighs, for all to see. She was their Lady, the benevolent one, the kind and just one, while Azriel still inspired fear and trepidation in most. The seed that filled her and poured out of her as she walked through the throngs of people, all of whom looked at her with admiration and excitement, was a sign of good things to come. After centuries, perhaps millennia of stagnation, Hewn City would rise again to its former glory. Lady Elain would be the catalyst for it.

Azriel settled atop of her, her head thrown over the edge of the bed, and rubbed the head of the member over her lips, tugging on it slowly, his eyes wide with the anticipation of pleasure.

“I love Calanmai,” she vowed with a joyful sight, and he laughed.

“Indeed?”

She nodded, licking the tip of the member. “You aren’t tired?” he asked, for they’ve been entangled for a while now. She shook her head no. “Tired? Until you, my lord, render me unable to walk tomorrow, then I might consider myself tired!”

“Is this what you want, my girl?” he asked, his voice gravelly and breathy with lust. Beads of liquid dribbled onto her tongue from his straining member. She whined with anticipation, nodding impatiently, while he guided the shaft into her mouth, her position allowing him to slide deeper and deeper and deeper.

There was nothing that Azriel didn’t love about Elain. Nothing. There was no word ‘no’ in his vocabulary when it came to her. She was his strength, his rock, the one person in this world who offered him complete understanding and acceptance, who supported him gently and lovingly through every peril and cataclysmic change that had taken place in their lives.

Sexually, Elain was brave and tolerant, experimental and curious. Every part of her was enticing and sensual, but nothing excited him more than her willingness and ability to take him in her throat, usually, without him even asking for it. Elain surprised him daily, but her voracious sexual appetite was a marvelous, unexpected gift for him. Because it matched his own perfectly.

He gently cupped her hollowed cheek and rubbed his thumb over the warm, flushed skin of her face, murmuring, “you feel so good, my love. So wet and ready for me.”

Elain hummed against his member and gasping and panting, and the vibrations of her mouth against the head of the member had him moaning, his head thrown back. She stroked his muscled stomach, running her palm over the hard, defined ridges, while he began thrusting between her lips, the tip striking the back of her throat with each push.  He gingerly cupped her head, her soft, messy locks a tangle in his fingers, and kept it steady, while she allowed him to use her mouth the way he liked it.

Azriel was not a talkative man, and because he was quiet and reserved and cerebral, most assumed that he was a tender lover. He was not.

So when he plunged into her mouth, it was not gentle, though he was always considerate and acutely aware of all her emotions and reactions. Spymaster, after all.

“My good girl,” he began a litany of praise, “you feel so good. My sweet, beautiful Lainey—are you enjoying yourself, my love?” he looked over his shoulder for a moment and a smirk played on his lips. She was clenching her thighs in desperation, gurgling and panting softly around his member, and he pumped harder, clasping her jaw and muttering, “is sucking my cock making you even wetter?”

She attempted to nod, but it was virtually impossible, though he didn’t need confirmation seeing her rosy folds bathed in her arousal. Taking pity on her, he slipped three fingers in her, and they slid in easily and fully, the walls of her sex clutching at them strongly.

“Where do you want me, sweetheart?” he asked, his hand working inside of her with quick, deep thrusts, while he used her mouth brutally, watching tears spill down her cheeks from the pressure. She did not respond in any meaningful way, indicating that it was up to him to find his pleasure within her, wherever he wanted. He smiled and caressed her sweaty, flushed face, while she chocked lightly against him, stroking his balls with her usual tenderness. He moaned, especially when he glanced lower and gritted through his teeth, “Love, I can see my cock in your throat,” he gasped, his eyes gleaming in the semi-darkness, cloaked in oily lust. Every time he pushed, the member bulged and imprinted in her throat, and he couldn’t help himself and gently lay his scarred hand on the spot, feeling the vibrations of his dick against his palm. He almost came right then and there, himself panting and gasping for air, and even if this certainly wasn’t the first time he saw his cock protrude in her throat, it never failed to cause some instinctual male reaction in him. His wings flared and snapped open, uncontrollable, guided by nothing but base instinct to show his female who was inside of her. By the Cauldron, if he could stay like this forever, he would.

Alas, he could hold back no longer and with a few well-placed thrusts, he felt Elain’s throat contract on him and that was his undoing. His release swept like a tidal wave over him and came in her mouth, making her groan with feral pleasure as he spilled and spilled into her. He was thinking that maybe Calanmai was his favourite holiday as well.

He collapsed alongside her, his wings a mess beneath him, but he didn’t even care. His breath was ragged and heavy, but she lovingly fed her nipple between his teeth and he sucked, tucking her beside him, murmuring an endless string of ‘I love you’ and ‘thank you’ into the soft, wonderfully comforting globe. She held his head against her breast, moaning sweetly, delighted at his steady sucking, wiggling against him to get more.  

Once they’ve calmed down a lit, she kissed his neck, while twisting her wrist before her eyes, watching the sparkling and gleaming bracelet explode with a thousand tiny lights in the shadows of faelights and the fire in the marble fireplace.

“Do you really love it?” he murmured, kissing her hand.

“Being yours…your bride and your Lady is all that I want,” she admitted, “but,” she smiled, “yes, my love, I love it. Isn’t it stunning?!”

He nodded, “I think I did well.”

“I can’t believe that you designed it yourself!” she kissed his chin, then his lips. “What other incredible talents do you possess that I am not aware of?”

He turned onto his back, rearranging his wings in some semblance of acceptable order and tugged her next to him. Running his finger over the bracelet, he said, “well, let’s see—I sing.”

“Uh-uh,” she pouted. “But never in front of me!”

“One day, my sweet, one day,” he teased.

“What else?”

“I enjoy building things…carving wood. I think that deep down, I am just a humble carpenter.”

Her brow furrowed, “have I seen any of your work? Or are you being stupidly humble as usual and refusing to show it to anyone?”

He laughed, amused by her indignation.

“No, I don’t believe that I am stupidly humble when it comes to my work. You might have seen it. Most of it is at Rosehall,”

“Oh, speaking of which—I promised your mother that I would visit!” Elain snapped her fingers, frowning at having forgotten.

He kissed her brow and said, “I am sure she’ll understand. Her daughter-in-law is a Lady of Hewn City,”

Elain smiled at the title.

“Even though,” she insisted, “I love her and I want to visit her. She said that she and the girls had made spice blends and mulled wine over the winter break and she wanted us to have it. And she also promised gifts for Calanmai,”

“You are my gift for Calanmai,” he whispered tenderly and kissed her. “My gift for every day. My gift for life.”

Elain cupped his cheek and kissed him back, running her tongue over his lower lip. She smelled and tasted of him, and he shuddered from the sensation, from the realization of how thoroughly his she was. His gift indeed.

Remarkably, it also made him hard.

Elain smiled and ran her finger down his chest, then his stomach.

“I am sorry, Lainey, I know you are tired,” he scrambled quickly, embarrassed by his response to her. Even by Fae standards, he was no spring chicken—not a green youth to be hardening at every kiss of these sweet, soft lips. Yes, he was a male in his prime, but,

“Once more?” she requested softly, batting her lashes at him and he grinned.

“Whatever my lady wishes,” he nodded with a courteous flair. The he kissed her and whispered into her lips, “tell me what you’d like, sweetheart?”

She chewed her lower lip, contemplating, the action making him ever harder. She found that very hardness at the ready for her, and wrapped her hand around him, rubbing him tightly, as she settled in the crook of his arm and he kissed her again.

“In my bottom, please,” she requested shyly.

Her secret, intimate pleasure that only Azriel was aware of. It thrilled him to know that she found pleasure with him, in him, in many different ways—from the simplest and most mundane, to the very intimate and personal, and only he could provide it for her.

“If that’s alright with you?” she added and he laughed, bringing her closer to his chest.

“I don’t think that I need to be pressured, sweetheart,”

She smiled and he parted her thighs, settling just behind her, muttering in her ear, “will you be a good girl for me? My good girl?”

She nodded, breath hitching in her chest, her breasts rising and falling in anticipation and she flicked her plump nipple with his fingers before biting it softly. She squirmed and her legs fell apart of their own volition, while he pressed his thumb into her clit and ground into it, watching her eyes roll back in pleasure, while he lined his member with her little opening. It was well-stretched from their previous bout, as he’d taken her everywhere in front of their Court, and then again, when they returned here, to their private quarters.

He pushed into her, easing slowly and carefully, and her back arched in his arms, as she pressed her face into his neck, moaning loudly. There was always a bit of pain, especially in the beginning, at the initial breach, and the sharp bite that he received on his clavicle was an indication of just that. She gripped the immense muscles of his shoulder, grunting and moaning into his neck, squeezing his arm so hard, it was sure to leave bruises. He was inside of her, his cock enveloped in such mind-boggling tightness that he ceased all movement, just to avoid coming at once.

He clasped her jaw and made her look at him. Her eyelids were heavy and a love-addled, blissful look settled on her face, while he lightly kissed her parted lips.

“Does that feel nice, my girl?” he asked, finally sliding a bit deeper, each shallow, easy thrust opening her up a little more.

“Az, Az,” she groaned breathlessly, “I can’t…it’s so…ohh,” she swallowed his thumb, still wet with her slick, needing to suck on something while he plunged forward, rocking his hips into her.

“Elain,” he hissed low and winced at the sweet, torturous friction that the walls of her bottom offered to his invading shaft. He pressed her to him, slowly bringing his hips against hers, and finally settling fully inside, while she went still and pliable in his arms.

The ache inside of Elain was particularly wonderful right now, even if she felt like she was being split inside—it always happened for a few moments—while her body spread to accommodate him.

“I fucking love you,” he moaned into her mouth, pulling his thumb out so he could ravish her with his tongue, while he returned back to her clit and stroked steadily.

He did not set an unreasonable pace, but rather moved languidly and deeply inside of her, kissing her to his heart’s desire. She nestled into his arms, stroking and kissing him lovingly, mewing and panting against his thorough, merciless thrusts.

“You feel sublime,” she confessed, watching him squeeze her breast, toying and tugging on the nipple.

“Did I tell you that I love you?” he asked, placing light, tender kisses all over her face. She laughed. “About a minute ago.”

“Good. Because I love you.”

“I love you too, Az,” she wrapped her arm around his neck, and then shuddered in his embrace, stuttering into his shoulder, “yes, yes, yes…like that…”

“You like that, my beauty?” he pumped harder now, knowing that the discomfort and pain were gone and she stretched wonderfully around him, taking him to the balls.

“Yes, yes,” she nodded, eyes shut, pleasure settling and growing somewhere inside of her. She milked and squeezed his cock frantically, urging him to move and give her more, and he did, pounding deeper into that marvelous tightness, against the lush silkiness of her quivering, trembling behind.

“Azriel,” she almost screamed, and then turned and swiftly straddled him, impaling herself with unstoppable determination, her wet, gleaming sex played widely in front of him, her other opening swollen and bursting around him.

Her plump tits bounced as she rode him, unconcerned about anything at this moment, her hair hanging limply over her body, her nails dug into his chest, her hips undulating on his cock.

“Baby, come for me,” he urged her, mesmerized by the wantonness of her creamy, pale body atop of him, the rhythmic bounce of her beautiful ass on his thighs, her determination to take what she needed from him.

With a roar that awoke the beasts, she shuddered and trembled over him, her rectum twitching and squeezing him so hard that he was unable to even work her through her climax, as he arched beneath her and his ecstasy was complete, as he spurted hot and thick inside of her. She went limp and he caught her in his arms, gently squeezing her against his chest and then waiting until the waves subsided for both of them, before kissing her hungrily.

He lay her down and then carefully withdrew, dragging his seed out of her with one long pull.

“Happy Calanmai,” she giggled and kissed him.

“Happy Calanmai, my love,” he stroked her damp hair.

He took her to the bathing chamber then, and they cleaned each other up quickly, for even the stoic Azriel was tired and all he wanted was to snuggle with his love and sleep. With her, he slept. She was his miracle.

By the time they returned to the bedroom, the bed was remade, the sheets changed and the subtle scent of jasmine perfumed the air. The wraiths who served at their court were nothing but efficient.

Elain’s beasts, two creatures who sat in stone for millennia, while Hewn City awaited its true master, and slumbered in its decadence, under the rule of the Night Court’s High Lords, awoke when the magic and power descended upon Azriel.

The creatures, and there were many of them here, awoke. But two, the ones who guarded the entrance to the City, were touched by Elain’s hand and released first. She freed them all, though some she put back to slumber, to be awoken when needed, though unlike before, they fed regularly, as opposed to once a decade.

But the two—Asterin and Sorrel—were Elain’s perpetual companions. The great fanged beasts, with powerful slithering bodies clad in impenetrable scales and with massive claws, not to mention keen intelligence and perfect understanding of language had made even Azriel a bit uneasy at first. Asterin was more physically powerful, but also playful, if volatile and temperamental, while Sorrel was calmer, if more brutal, and extremely overprotective of Elain.

Hewn City, especially during the transition of power, was not the friendliest of places, its new Lord well-known, disliked, feared and resented by a swath of its population. Even Elain, with her kindness and good-natured character, was not immediately successful in turning the tide of public opinion. Therefore, Azriel was more than concerned about leaving her here, if he had business elsewhere, but with Asterin and Sorrel, even his worries were put to rest.

The beasts were not exactly wyverns, or dragons, but creatures of their own. Like Rhys, they were able to summon their wings at will, which was perhaps something specific to Rhys’s bloodline, or somehow connected to Hewn City, but whatever the reason was, it was very, very useful. Elain had noted that having not one, but three winged creatures in the bedroom would be…excessive. Hence, when she and Azriel went to their palace atop the Court of Nightmares’ mountain, the beasts were free to fly and frolic about as much as they wanted. They also offered winged transportation to Elain.

At last, all three sisters were able to fly. Feyre simply summoned wings just like she always did. Nesta received her white mare pegasus, which she named Marena, from Helion (who still held out hope that she and Cassian would join him in some erotic escapade), as a mating gift. And lastly, Elain flew on her fanged beasts. Their three males could barely keep up.

Luckily, the beasts also went into hibernation when ordered, becoming stone-like, just like the sculptures that they once were. Because they insisted on sharing the quarters here, it was rather imperative that there was some privacy—because Azriel did not need to suddenly glance at a pair of slanted green eyes while licking Elain’s pussy.

Azriel deposited Elain on the bed and she wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hearty hug.

The shadows had returned—they left when they sensed that their master was about to engage in something private with the mistress—while Asterin and Sorrel coiled around the bed.

Even though their private apartment was located far inside the Hewn City Night Palace, they could still hear the partying occupants of the underworld Court. Azriel rolled his eyes and Elain laughed in return. He threw a shield over the bedroom, blocking the noise.

“Who knew that you’d fit right in, with Calanmai becoming your favourite holiday?” he muttered, squeezing her behind.

“I suppose the Cauldron doesn’t only make stupid mistakes,” she shrugged. “And once in a while gets something right.’

 Part II

The Heirs of Shadow

 Spring was in full bloom across the Night Court territory, slowly but surely crossing into summer.

The wind in Elain’s hair was sweet and scented with roses and pine. Asterin was like an enormous scaly snake-like puppy, swooshing through the air, making all sorts of unnecessary maneuvers beneath Elain’s saddle. “Hey! I will be going on Sorrel when we return,” she warned her beast and Asterin gave her a petulant snarl, but slowed down. The flight made Elain queasy and she was glad to see the cypress and pine-covered hills, and beyond them, a flower-covered meadow and a glittering, turquoise lake.

The stucco-covered villa stretched along the banks of the lake, one wall covered in ivy, and the other, in pink and white roses. As Asterin and Sorrel approached the villa, two children rushed out of the wrought iron gates, waving their arms in the air, jumping and yelling. Elain smiled at them, waving back.

“Elain, Elain,” the children rushed towards her the moment Asterin touched down, “we missed you so much! You came! Can we play with the wyverns? Can we go flying?”

Elain dismounted and squatted in the grass, opening her arms and then getting tackled onto her back, once the two children slid into her arms, hands and legs flailing about, smiles and at least one mouth with missing teeth grinning at her. She kissed soft cheeks and thick black hair, so alike to that of their oldest brother—Azriel.

“You two are such hooligans!” she laughed, finally managing to sit up, but they wouldn’t let get up, so they remained in the grass.

“Where is Az?” asked Nataliya, playing with Elain’s braid and closely inspecting her emerald earrings. “These are pretty! Do you have presents for me?”

“Nat, it’s rude to ask that!” at nine years of age, her brother Riad was the voice of reason and propriety. More than any other child, he reminded Elain of Azriel—a uniquely handsome boy, with a contemplative and scholarly attitude and yet remarkably swift, agile and fast. She’d watched him climb the old oak tree that grew on the property in under a minute. Sometimes, he and Azriel would go for a run, and the boy would keep up the entire time, without complaint, steadfast and determined, just like his brother.

“Why it’s rude if I want a present?” demanded Nataliya, shrugging. Elain kissed her head and said, “Lucky for you, I do have presents for everyone!”

The girl squealed, her round face breaking into a happy smile. “That’s good. I want them! You wanna see our baby?”

“Of course,” Elain nodded and then gave each one of them a hand and they tugged her upwards.

“Come on, Elain! You can do it,” Nat encouraged her, grunting.

“Is Az gonna come?” asked Riad quietly, once Elain was up, and they walked towards the villa, holding hands.

“Not right now, my loves. He is very busy,”

“He is High Lord!” exclaimed Nat, squeezing her chubby hands in delight. “He is busy, Riad!” she added confidently, “so he can’t come visit.”

“Maybe you can come and visit us in Velaris?” proposed Elain.

“Be careful what you ask for, darling!” a laughing voice interrupted their conversation.

Azriel’s stunningly beautiful mother was smiling at them, standing by the gate. Her lustrous black hair cascaded in rich, ebony waves around her, and the bright green eyes were in fine contrast to her dark golden skin. Her eldest son inherited her sensuous full mouth and every time Elain laid eyes on the woman, she could see Azriel’s visage in her face.

“We’d love to have you all,” insisted Elain, throwing her arms around her mother-in-law.

“Ma, we gonna go play with the wyverns!” announced Riad.

“Yes, with wyverns!” Nat nodded immediately. She was not yet five, and basically repeated everything that Riad did and said. “Which one is good?”

Elain chuckled, “they are both good. Asterin, the green one, likes to swim, so maybe you can go to the lake with her. And Sorrel, the gray one, she may even fly you about, if your mother permits,”

“Ma!”

“Ma!”

Rosamunde winced a bit, but Elain murmured, “they’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Alright, but,”

Before she could even finish her sentence the two ran off towards the beasts.

“Ellie, you look wonderful,” Rosamunde locked arms with Elain and they slowly made their way inside Rosehall. A riot of flower beds greeted them and Elain sighed with delight. Who would have thought that she and her mother-in-law possessed the same interest and passion? Though Elain felt that Rosamunde’s gardens put hers to shame.

“Thank you,” she smiled, looking around.

The villa was a tranquil and stunning place, nestled in a valley, surrounded by low mountains and crystal-clear waterfalls. Azriel had purchased the estate long ago, while he was in love with Mor and had hoped that they would have a blissful future together. While he knew that they would always be tied to Velaris and Hewn City, he had imagined that Rosehall would be their escape, their private place to enjoy.

It was stunningly picturesque, with a mild tempered climate year-round, and a town a few leagues away, which supplied the estate with everything that it needed. However, things did not go as planned and instead, Azriel gifted the house and the lands around it to his mother, for her wedding to her life-long and long-suffering lover, partner, friend and the male who had waited for her for a century, and ultimately helped to rescue her from the clutches of Azriel’s father. The male was now an elected mayor of the town—a long way to come for a humble hunter who had once fallen in love with an Illyrian laundress and loved her for all the days of his life.

“So do you!” exclaimed Elain, breathing in the fragrant air and smiling widely. She loved Rosehall. It was a serene and gorgeous place, full of delightful smells and exquisitely stunning scenery.

“Come, come,” Rosamunde pulled her by the hand and they entered the house. It was cool and dim, but once they made their way down the terracotta-tiled hallway and stepped into the opulently enormous kitchen, light flooded the place. This kitchen was Elain’s inspiration for her own home—grand and open on three sides to take advantage of the glorious views outside, it was also homey and cozy, a place to accommodate a bustling, busy family. All the doors were open and a pleasant breeze wafted in and out, bringing in the scent of flowers and mingling with the smell of freshly baked tarts.

“Sit, sit,” Rosamunde offered and immediately sat a tall glass of lemonade before Elain.

“How’s my Azzie?” the mother asked, joining her at the long butcher block that stretched in the middle of the kitchen. A mother’s privilege, to call the famed shadowsinger, the feared spymaster, and now Lord—Azzie. Even Elain didn’t dare, though she teased him with it at times, causing many dramatic eyerolls in response.

“He is good,” Elain smiled a happy, satisfied smile which did not escape Rosamunde’s notice. Her charming daughter-in-law looked blissful and for some reason, it made Rosamunde’s heart ache with joy and pride. “Works too much,” Elain continued, sipping her lemonade, and helping herself to a peach cake which Rosamunde supplied promptly. Like all mothers, Rosamunde was convinced that both Azriel and Elain were too thin and did not eat enough. Hence, each time they visited, they returned laden with bushels of food, treats, jars of preserves and gods only knew what else. Now that there were two wyverns to carry the care packages, Elain couldn’t imagine how much she’d be given. Not that she minded.

Azriel had introduced Elain to his mother just after the betrothal and they had come here and spent a few days getting to know each other. Rosamunde had four children then, besides Azriel—Enid, who was over three hundred years old, and who was married to an Illyrian General (not an asshole, as Azriel explained), and then, hundreds of years later, she birthed four children almost in a row—unheard of in Fae society—Rafael, Riad, Nataliya and finally Ellena, with whom she was pregnant when she and Elain met.

Ellena now sat up groggily in a little play crib that stood in the corner and looked around, having just awoken from her nap. Seeing Elain, she immediately stood up and extended her arms to her.

Family. Elain had loved her father, but…family…

There used to be a family, but it was never quite normal, cohesive. Her mother only doted on Nesta, their father was frequently absent, Feyre was a solitary, quiet, dreamy child and Nesta was a formidable creature of her own. Elain learned how to navigate the dynamics early on, floating quietly between all of them, playing the peacemaker, being the good daughter. And while her sisters, and her nephew were her blood family, this—this was her new family, the one she loved. Her Azriel and all her new little nieces and nephews, and her mother-in-law, who was both a mother and a friend, and her father-in-law—an enormous, gregarious male who reminded her of Cassian, but who was even larger than the Illyrian General. When she came here, she felt in place, happy and cared for.

Rosamunde watched from the corner of her eye how Elain and Ellena hugged and cooed at each other, giggling and whispering, and she already knew that Elain wouldn’t let the baby go until it was time to leave. The three of them, well two, since Ellena mostly stuck her hands into things and smooshed food around, prepared lunch and then went outside, slowly walking down the path that led to the lake. Riad and Nat were using Sorrel as a slide, climbing on top of her and then sliding down her scaled back into the water, shrieking and screaming with joy and excitement, while Asterin lounged next to them, sunning her hide, watching them with lazy amusement.

“You smell like Az,” Rosamunde murmured suddenly, as they took off their dresses and waded into the water, because Ellena was throwing a fit and wanted to slide off Sorrel as well. Elain only allowed her a little jump off the wyvern’s tail, but Ellena loved it and screamed with delight, falling all over the place, while to two of them tried to catch her.

Elain, her shift irreversibly soaked, glanced at the female, as she helped Ellena climb up Sorrel’s tail. It was an unusual comment for Rosamunde to make. They were very close, and even though Rosamunde was over 700 years old, she looked like a woman in her early 30s, which made it easy for them to become friends, because on the surface they looked like they were almost the same age. And Azriel was born so, so long ago that Elain hardly ever thought of them as a mother and son. However, some conversations were off limits, and they certainly never discussed her and Azriel’s intimate relationship, even when they talked about males and their ways around the bedroom, giggling and joking over a few glasses of wine.

“Well, I,” Elain began saying, feeling a blush spreading over her chest and neck. “We…”

Yes, of course they’d made love in the morning, before she came here. They made love every morning. Every evening.

Rosamunde waved her hand at her, laughing, “Oh Cauldron! Please spare me the details!”

“Oh,”

“All I am saying is that your scents—they’ve amalgamated. I,” she sniffed delicately, “recognize him within you…Not just on your skin,”

“Really?”

Something passed across the female’s face, a small smile of recognition. Then she nodded, her face remaining unreadable, much like her son’s.

She nodded, “Yes. The cedar and the jasmine. A lovely scent indeed.”

“You smell good Elain?” Nat barreled into Elain’s arms, wrapping her arms around her neck.

Elain kissed her wet hair and said, “I guess I do. Are you ready to go and eat lunch?”

“No! I want to do this more!”

“Why don’t we come back after lunch and you can play more?” Elain proposed, somehow managing to convince the unruly bunch to actually get back into the house. While they walked, Nataliya declared, “I wanna be High Lady!”

Elain chuckled, “Yes? Why? What will you do as High Lady?”

Nat thought for a second and then said, “Gonna wear pretty dresses,”

“You already wear pretty dresses,” countered Elain.

“More pretty,” insisted the girl. “And eat cake!”

“So as a High Lady you’ll be wearing pretty dresses and eating cake?”

Nodding, the budding High Lady hooked her little finger over Elain’s bracelet and added, “Will wear this too! And crowns.”

“Well, well,” Elain laughed, “all good things.”

Nat seemed pleased by the prospect of her High Ladyship and skipped ahead, dreaming of crowns and cake.

“You know,” Rosamunde’s voice was thoughtful and quiet, “she may sound silly,”

“I think she is adorable,”

“She is, but even if she is only dreaming of nice dresses and cakes now, I am glad that she is able to dream like this at all. It wasn’t available to us—females—before. There were no High Ladies—not for a very, very long time. So much so, we’d forgotten that we could be one. It’s ironic that it took a human woman to bring the practice back to the Fae world. Now it’s you, and Lady Feyre, and Lady Viviane…I never thought I’d see this.”

“But your son is also a Lord,” reminded her Elain, gently pressing her lips to Ellena’s damp curls. “Was it a surprise?”

They’d never discussed the power transfer—not at any length. It was all very sudden and there hasn’t been time or perhaps even desire to talk about it.

“No,” Rosamunde shook her head, “not exactly a surprise. We hail from an ancient race of Fae—from a Court that no longer in existence,”

“Dusk?”

“Yes. They say that when Dusk was destroyed a few hundred families managed to survive and escape. They were the original inhabitants and builders of Hewn City. Over the centuries, bloodlines thinned, some mixed with other Fae, some with Illyrians…My bloodline is pure,”

Elain shot her a surprised look. Azriel had never mentioned this before.

“Azriel is a true and direct descendant of the Dusk Court nobility—through me—and perhaps even their High Lords…So, no, I was not particularly surprised. That’s why Keir and that family were always ‘stewards’, and not Lords.”

She sighed and looked ahead, as they approached the villa.

“My son,” she said softly, “has had a difficult life. An unhappy life. A life of incredible violence and heartache. A life without childhood, or love, or anything positive or any light…That he is a shadowsinger is not a good thing, you know…It’s a curse, not a blessing. But,” and she glanced at Elain, her sad, soft face, “now he has you. Gods, Elain, you have no idea how happy you make him.”

Elain blushed, a tear-touched smile on her face. “I,”

“Elain, love, you will never know,” Rosamunde wrapped her arm around Elain’s shoulder. “He isn’t a man of many words, but believe me when I say this—I would have been heartbroken if he was granted this burden of power without you at his side. It would just be another weight added onto his shoulders, and I wouldn’t want that for my son. But you came along, and everything fell into place…You and him, and how the Power chose both of you,”

“We aren’t mates,” Elain reminded her quietly, knowing how much importance the Fae placed on the bond.

“And? Perhaps you are even more than that?” Rosamunde shrugged. “Believe me—I’ve seen some happy matings, Rhys and Feyre, for example, but I’ve seen some bad ones as well—Rhys’s parents come to mind. Your own mate bond ended up being faulty…What if you have more than a bond? Not just a bond of love, but that of power? Think about it…” she cocked her brow.

Elain hadn’t considered that option, but now she pondered the suggestion, the implication of it all.

“And you?” she asked instead.

Rosamunde smiled and looked back, towards the town which nestled under the mountains, leagues away.

“And I am an example that bonds don’t matter. No one can possibly love me more than Finrod does, and seven hundred years later, I still get weak in the knees at the sight of him—just like I did when I beheld him the first time, when he won an axe throwing competition and then flared his wings with more gusto than Cassian would,” Rosamunde began to laugh and then Elain joined. But then, her brow furrowed and she asked,

“Wait—Finrod doesn’t have wings!”

“I have wings!” yelled Nat, as she entered the house, and Rosamunde called after her and Riad to go and dry themselves and change.

Surely Elain wasn’t losing her mind. None of the family had wings. Her expression must have been so apparent that Rosamunde chuckled and clapped her on the shoulder, “We do,”

“But…what?”

“Do you know how Rhys can summon his at will? As does Lady Feyre?”

Elain nodded, so confused she felt like she was in some kind of out-of-body experience.

“That’s because Rhys has Hewn City blood. From his father. His mother was fully Illyrian. Us—we are the opposite. I am of Hewn City stock, but Azriel’s…father…” she grimaced, “was Illyrian. So Azriel has permanent wings. We—my children, and Finrod—can summon them at will. I don’t use them much, though they could be useful. Mine are mostly vestigial—I can hardly fly and,” her beautiful face darkened with sorrow, “and…”

Elain squeezed her hand in support and acknowledgement.

“I couldn’t save my baby,” Rosamunde choked, tears filling her eyes, “I couldn’t save Az…They probably would’ve caught me anyway, but I might have had a chance…But, but,” she sobbed and stopped, burying her face in her hands, “I couldn’t…I can’t fly. I couldn’t save him…I couldn’t save my boy…”

“Mam, ma,” Ellena babbled, seeing her mother in distress, and Elain brough her arms around the two of them, kissing both of them, the three of them crying together. For a little boy who couldn’t have a childhood and couldn’t be saved.

 …The rest of the day wasn’t as eventful. They had lunch, with Nataliya demonstrating how to summon her wings and ripping her dress in the process, which caused a flood of tears, and laughter from Riad, and then Nataliya smacking her brother in retribution, and him scowling and pouting for the rest of the meal.

“You two are clearing the table,” ordered Rosamunde, and Elain had to hide her smile at their indignation.

“Az mentioned that he works with wood and that you have some pieces that he’d made,” she remembered. “Do you mind showing them to me?”

“Of course! Come,” they grabbed Ellena, who wouldn’t let go of Elain anyway, and walked through the house, with Rosamunde pointing out beautiful pieces of carved wooden furniture and decorative pieces.

“After Az was sent to the camp,” she recalled, “they allowed him to apprentice with the carpenter there…Because of his hands and his inability to fly, the Commanders didn’t think he’d be useful, and would ever be able to fight. So they figured that he should learn some kind of trade, if he didn’t make it as a shadowsinger for the High Lord, and it also allowed him to work with his hands and fingers, because he still had trouble with them even after 3-4 years after…” her voice faded and she didn’t finish her thought.

Elain ran her fingers along a beautifully carved mirror frame and murmured, “he is truly talented…”

He mother nodded. Then said, “I think he might carve something for you soon…”

“What?”

“Something for the house, I am sure.”

 Azriel landed in the front lawn of his estate.

It was a large, rambling cottage that became available after the war—the family that lived there moved to a smaller place and the house sat unoccupied for a year. Azriel’s been eyeing it ever since it became vacant, but he didn’t need a place that big for himself and back then, he didn’t think that he ever stood a chance with Elain.

Asterin and Sorrel were lounging on the grass, lazily chewing on Elain’s roses, pretending to smell them. At seeing Azriel they immediately shifted, feigning innocence and acting like they weren’t gnashing on the bulbs just now. He shook his finger at them and they turned away, ignoring him.

He was forever thankful that unlike Hewn City, the cottage, while large, couldn’t contain two enormous, fanged beasts. So, they stayed outside. He reckoned that everything fell into place when Elain entered his life, including the location of this house—far away from everyone, secluded in brambles and weeping willows, it was just outside of Velaris, with stunning views all around—the city on one side, and the sea on the other. His presence made people nervous enough, even back when he was just a shadowsinger and spymaster of the High Lord, and an Illyrian with seven siphons. Now, as Lord of Hewn City, with a Cauldron-made betrothed, two fanged beasts in tow, and Bryaxis who loved visiting as well, having befriended Elain a while back (since two monsters as friends weren’t enough), Azriel did not make for a desirable neighbour. Thankfully, there were no neighbours around. Therefore, if Bryaxis felt like sitting in the garden, wrapped in dark shadow of terror, it didn’t result in a pile of bodies who died of pure fear.

“My love, are you home?” he called out, shucking off his jacket and weapons, and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“I am here!” Elain’s voice sang back and instantly his heart gladdened. That voice was like a balm on his soul, sweet and welcoming, and Azriel had to mentally pinch himself to remind himself that this was real. This was his life. This was his home, the one he built with the only woman that he ever truly ever loved and who loved him unconditionally and with an undimming, everlasting passion. His Elain. His Elain who chose him against all odds, and who promised to walk with him side by side, regardless of what befell them in this life. And with her next to him, he felt no fear.

“Holy gods, what are you doing?” he cried, when he entered their vast kitchen and saw Elain balance herself precariously on her toes, on the top step of a stepladder, reaching for something on the top shelf of their pantry. “You couldn’t have waited for me?!”

She laughed at him, kissing the air in greeting and said, “You are fussier than your mom!”

“What are you doing?” he came closer, and crossed his arms on his chest.

“She gave me so much food, I am trying to arrange it all,” Elain giggled, “I think she thinks that we are starving.”

He snorted a laugh.

“I felt bad for Sorrel who had to haul all these baskets on her back,”

“I imagine that Sorrel managed just fine.”

He came closer and playfully pecked her bottom through her gauzy skirt, and she squirmed with enjoyment.

“My Lord Azriel!” she admonished him playfully.

“Lady Elain,” he slapped her buttock lightly and said, “get off that stool and give me a kiss! What smells so good?”

“Dinner!”

He went to the cupboard and started pulling out plates and wine glasses and setting the table.

“Six jars of pickles! Three jars of jam,” she was counting out loud, “Three jars of marinated peppers. Six baskets of dried mushrooms…Azriel, if I see you tucking into those blackberry tarts before dinner, I swear,”

In the next moment, she was swept off her feet and into a pair of strong arms, his mouth descending on hers in a savage kiss. She screeched and laughed, clutching at his shoulders, before softening against him and draping her arms around his neck. Her lips opened in invitation and he swept his tongue inside, gently overpowering her with his kiss.

“I love you,” she moaned into his mouth, running her hands through his hair.

“I’d like to hear the rest of your threat,” he invited with a chuckle, “about the blackberry tarts,”

“I’d make love to you,” she whispered into his ear, lightly biting his earlobe, “if you eat a blackberry tart,”

“Then perhaps I should have two?”

“Perhaps…”

“And if I eat a pickle?” he proposed, returning to her lips, placing small, loving kisses on her mouth and her eyes.

“The punishment remains the same,” she breathed.

He breathed in deeply, with satisfaction.

Then stilled, abruptly.

Elain looked at him in surprise when he pulled away from her mouth.

His hazel eyes blazed—blazed like the green forests of Illyria, like the obsidian of Hewn City, like the stars of the Night Court. Those eyes devoured her. His perfect, beautiful face, usually so tanned and golden, paled. She’d never seen him pale.

“Az?”

Confusion and fear were written on her face.

“El,” he sobbed.

He…sobbed.

Azriel’s gorgeous eyes filled with tears, huge and thick, the eyes brimmed with them before spilling onto his face.

“Azriel,” she cried in alarm, cupping his cheek.

“Elain,” he gasped, his voice so choked with emotion, so raspy, she could barely hear him, “my love. Elain. My love,” he kept repeating, as if in shock, as if he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Az, I love you, please, my darling, what is,”

“We are going to have a baby,” he blurted out.

Her eyes widened and his hand instinctively went to her stomach. He lay his heavy scarred palm on her belly, setting her down on the floor, and dropped on his knees before her.

She pressed her hand over his, still disbelieving his words, as they stared at each other, both in some kind of stupor of complete elation and doubt.

“Are you certain?” she begged softly, her eyes pleading with him for confirmation, for this to be true.

“I smell it…it’s so clear,” he inhaled again, and then again, “you and I and someone else in there,”

“Oh, by the Cauldron,” she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, “you mother…Oh…”

“What?” he pressed his cheek to her stomach, wrapping his arms around her hips.

“She knew. I think she knew…She commented on our smell,”

“What did she say?”

“That we amalgamated into one scent,”

He chuckled softly, kissing her hands, her stomach, whatever his lips could reach, “We certainly amalgamated. I think it’s a bit more than just a scent though,”

Suddenly it dawned on Elain. It all came crushing at once and she wept, squeezing her face, a smile on her face so wide, it hurt her cheeks.

“We’ve made a baby?” she gasped, “Az, we’ve made a baby.”

“We’ve made a life together,” he murmured, awed. For a male who was so used to taking life, whose very existence was dedicated to war and blood, the thought of creating one, of creating something pure and good along with this female that he loved beyond reason, was simply magical.

“On Calanmai, you think?” she marveled, remembering the Great Rite, and everything that they did that night.

“I am certain,” he nodded.

“Our magical baby,” she grinned through her tears, looking down at him, at her stomach, and their hands, cradling it together.

  It was a warm summer day, with the sky of the clearest blue and the sun beating down.

Azriel had worked up a sweat, but he loved it. It was quiet around their house, other than for the chirping birds and the rustling of leaves. Out as far as the eye could see stretched the azure sea—this view was one of the reasons Azriel bought this specific house. It was absolutely glorious and he loved the gleaming amethyst brilliance of the water, the smell of salt and brine in the air. One side of the house overlooked the city skyline, in the back, the towering mountains, and ahead, the vast expanse of the sea. When he was old and gray, he imagined that he’d be sitting out on the terrace, with Elain on his lap, and never tire of the view or of her. Not a Lord, not a spymaster or an Illyrian with too many siphons, but Azriel. He’d never tell her, but he already knew what he’d have written on his tombstone, if he ever had one ‘Here lies Azriel. He loved Elain, who made him happy’.

He looked up from the piece of wood that he was polishing. In their beautiful garden, the whole menagerie of their creatures napped or lounged. Deep in the shadows of the two weeping willows was a smudge of impenetrable darkness—Bryaxis came to look at the sun and smell the flowers. Around it, Azriel’s own shadows fluttered and floated. It was a little too bright for them out here, so they hid alongside Bryaxis, nestled in his darkness. Azriel figured that they could talk with each other, though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what the topic of their conversation would be. Asterin was cooling off in the pond, while Sorrel was sleeping on the grassy bank, sunning her wings. He supposed that he was also a strange creature, just like them, with his wings, that he was also presently sunning and his unnatural power. Perhaps, only Elain was the normal one amongst them, though probably not.

Elain was crouched in the flower bed, a wide-brimmed hat obscuring her face, even if her thin sleeveless shirt allowed a very generous and tempting glimpse of her unbound breasts under the unbuttoned collar.

“You look like a cat who just drank all the cream,” she noted, without moving her head or looking at him.

“And you are acting like an expert little spy,” he laughed, and walked over to her.

His scarred hand crawled under her hat and he squeezed the back of her neck, massaging gently.

“Mmm, that feels good,” she hummed, leaning into his hand.

Then, with a smirk, she complained, “I am hot.”

He chuckled and stooped over her, his palm migrating from the back of her neck to the front, squeezing her throat lightly and tilting her head back. The hat tumbled on the grass.

“Can I help you remove some of this offending clothing?” he offered, leaning deeper over her, his face ghosting hers in the barest of touches. He whispered and her tongue darted out and licked on his lips quickly.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Please…”

He snapped his fingers, without taking his eyes off her and then said, loudly, “Hey! All of you! Find somewhere else to be!”

The monster, the beasts and shadows all made an indignant noise, and attempted to turn around, but Azriel shook his head, “No. No. Go. Leave. Come back later. All of you.”

His shadows flew closer to him, in hopes of being spared, but he flicked his wrist at them.

Elain was laughing.

“You are a terrible host!” she murmured, when he slid on the grass next to her.

“I am a stupendous host,” he countered, stroking her throat, before tilting her head the way he wanted to and placing his lips on the thin, smooth skin. He kissed. Softly. Unhurriedly. Up and down, from her ear to her shoulder, while his deft fingers unbuttoned the few buttons of her shirt.

“Stupendous, huh?”

“Uh-uh,” he breathed against her neck, and parted her blouse, sliding it down her arms and then arranging it so she could lay her head on it. “They lounge on my lawn. They swim in our pond. They eat your flowers. They terrify the neighbors,”

“We don’t have any neighbors,” she reminded him with a chuckle. “You hate people,”

“I don’t hate people,” he corrected, kissing her nose and then her lips, “I care about people. That’s why I don’t have them around, so they don’t die of terror should they come upon Bry or your sweet beasties,”

“You are my sweet beastie,” she whispered, stroking his face.

Azriel smiled, and agreed, “That I am. And, you’ve been very naughty, tempting me with these all morning long,” he cupped her bare breasts, which always fit so well within his palms and rubbed his thumbs over the nipples. Now, a month and a half into her pregnancy, they began to fill out, growing just a bit heavier and fuller almost daily. It fascinated him and, well, he couldn’t deny that it made him quite happy as well.

“You can play with them,” she offered.

“Yeah?” he leaned into her and wrapped his mouth over the nipple, pulling hard and deep, teeth and lips clamping on the sensitive tip. A violent shudder rushed through her, and she tugged on his hair, pushing his face into her soft breast…and if he was going to suffocate now, he’d die a happy male. But she released her hold on his head a bit and he sucked deeply and steadily, while working her out of her skirt.  She wiggled out of it and kicked it with her foot, while going for the ties on his trousers, pulling on them impatiently. He laughed over her breast and then looked up at her, “eager, are we?”

Elain flipped him on his back and muttered, panting lightly, “Az, I need you,”

“You have me, love,” he assured her, as he pulled out his cock and stroked it a few times. She looked down, hunger in her beautiful brown eyes, her lower lip between her teeth, body almost shaking with anticipation.

He wrapped his hand over her hips and nudged her forward, murmuring, “come, my baby, take what you need.”

Elain didn’t have to be asked twice. The horrible ache in her core was becoming unbearable and there was only way to soothe it. While Azriel slid his trousers down his legs, finally getting naked beneath her, she straddled him and guided his thick cock inside of her.

“Oh gods,” she moaned, her eyes closing and head lolling to the side, pure, ravenous bliss written all over her face. She sunk on him slowly, for no matter how aroused she was, how wet and ready, his size did not allow for a singular initial thrust. It always had to be a tempered, gradual push, which they both loved, for it only heightened their senses, the anticipation of what was about to happen.

His fingers dug deeply into her thigh probably adding to an existing bruise, but Elain loved carrying his bruises on her body. Beneath her gauzy dresses, or the more daring, risqué outfits that she wore in Hewn City, or her gardening dungarees, or the simple skirts and shirts that she wore at home, her lovely, curvy body bore the marks of Azriel’s love. It was their secret, just like the bargain tattoo that was hidden on her thigh—only for him to know.

The moment he was situated in her, he set an ambitious pace, his hips working almost against his rational inclination, but the way the walls of her sex gripped him with such sublime strength and clenched and pulled him in every time he made a move was so overwhelmingly pleasurable, he stopped, just to gather his thoughts for a moment.

“You take me so well, my girl,” he grunted, “so tight,”

“Az, move,” she pleaded desperately, her palms pressing into his chest, her hips grinding onto him. “Faster…”

He sat up, biting his lower lip, his palm gripping her breast almost painfully, as he squeezed her nipple between his fingers, twisting it harshly. She panted loudly, the bit of pain always being something she craved, something he offered and she chased.

“Anything you want, baby,” he finally calmed himself enough to begin thrusting into her in earnest. Even when she was on top, she liked for him to do most of the work, and he did not object whatsoever. He lay back down, letting his eyes roam over her gorgeously lush body, mesmerized by her bouncing breasts, as they bopped and swayed with every thrust of his hips. He cupped her soft, pert ass and gently spread the cheeks, mashing them in his palms, his fingers pushing occasionally against and around her other little hole, eliciting pleased moans and cries from her parted lips.

“Az, my love, you feel so amazing,” she breathed. “Why does it feel so good?”

“Because you were made for me and I was made for you,” he said simply.

“Yes,” she nodded, “yes,”

His eyes drifted down her body and he buried himself inside of her, thrusting to the hilt and holding still. She moaned loudly, her head rolling back, unbound hair ticking his thighs. He ran his hand over her torso, her throat and her breasts and then paused at her stomach, pressing lightly to her lower belly. He could feel and see the small bump—not that of their baby—but his cock that was so deep, it pushed out from inside of her.

Azriel groaned loudly, wondering if he’s ever been so hard before. He has. But every time it felt new and different, the sense of possession almost indescribable.

He grabbed her hand and pressed it to the same spot. Her eyes widened with lust mixed with amazement and she rubbed the cock that was pocking her stomach.

“El, fuck,” he swore low and hissing, “fuck it feels nice, baby…” he held her hand right there, and she moved and stroked her stomach. “You are so tiny, I can see myself moving inside of you,”

She grinned, “You like that, bad boy?”

“Yes, my sweet, this boy really, really likes seeing you take my cock!”

 Cassian could barely breathe.

He loved Elain, but the flowers…Her garden was gorgeous, a feast for the eyes, a work of art—and torture for his nose and eyes and throat.

Azriel and Elain had been holed up in their luxurious secluded cottage for over a month.

He saw them here and there, they visited once, maybe twice, and then there was the dinner at the River House, which they declined to attend, citing Hewn City business.

“Go check on them!” ordered Nesta.

“Why don’t we go together?” proposed Cassian, but she said, “I don’t want to ambush them. Just…it’s casual if it’s just you.”

So here he was, being casual.

Somehow even Rhys found out that he was going to visit them, and the High Lord ordered him to report on their well-being.

The two wyverns, or whatever they were, flew over the sea, flipping and diving into the water.

Cassian landed in front of the house and knocked. No one answered. He knocked again, harder this time, but was greeted with silence.

It was a nice day, so he figured that the two of them being in the garden was very probable. Elain with her flowers or berry bushes, and Azriel just watching over her like a hungry wolf in love. The male was so obsessively in love, Cassian figured that if he could spend eternity watching Elain garden, Azriel would be perfectly satisfied with his life.

Rounding the corner, Cassian was faced with the most disturbing scene that his 543-year-old eyes had seen—naked Elain, grinding on Azriel…riding his cock.

Oh gods. Oh gods.

His sister. His little sister. That’s who Elain was to him. She was his little petal, his sweet flower girl. Riding Azriel’s enormous cock. How that thing even fit into her was a miracle.

Oh gods. His eyes. He pressed his palms over his face and ran back. He slammed into something, refused to open his eyes, and ran until he was well out on the front law on the house.

Mother’s tits! Why were they outside? He knew why they were, because it was a nice day and it was perfect time for lovemaking, but gods, did Azriel have to do it with her?

Breathing heavily, Cassian shot up in the air. He’d fly around, for a few hours. A few hours should be long enough, right? Maybe a few days?

Yes, theoretically, Cassian knew that Elain and Azriel were lovers. They were betrothed and swore their love and loyalty to each other before a priestess, and one day, planned to perhaps marry, as humans married—Elain’s idea, though she was cooling off to it, no longer concerned about the human rituals and their ways. But they were both reserved people, rarely displaying overt affection towards each other and somehow, it was difficult to imagine them in more intimate situations.

 Azriel had scented his brother nearby.

Elain was whimpering atop of him, as he was pounding into her and right then, his brother was of no concern to him. He wanted to bring his girl over the edge, and she was close if the fluttering of the walls of her pussy around his cock were anything to go by. Her breath came out in deep, hoarse sighs and she stretched over him, her hair draping over her breasts and his chest, swooshing and tickling his chest. She squeezed her breast in her hand, rolling her nipple, as she plunged down on him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Close, sweetheart?” he held her hips tightly, angling her so that her clit ribbed against his pelvis, while kissing her mouth. She nodded breathlessly and fell atop of him, sinking her teeth into his neck and sucking, as she thrashed and moaned into his shoulder, whispering how much she loved him.

“I love you too, my beautiful girl,” he murmured into her hair.

 Azriel was working on an intricate carving in the piece of wood, chiseling slowly and carefully into the plank. He might have planned too complex a design, if he had to admit it, but he had eight months to complete it, so with some perseverance he figured that he’d be done just in time.

“I know you are there,” he said without raising his eyes from his chisel, “stop being weird.”

Cassian stepped in front of him, sniffling and hacking, rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

“Were you hiding there long?”

“You know I wasn’t hiding,” Cassian sneezed, “I just flew in.”

“Flew back in,” corrected Azriel, smirking.

“My eyes did not need to see what they saw earlier,” Cassian sat heavily on a bench, shaking his head. “And stop smiling!”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for someone so modest and easily perturbed,”

“Umm, I am not easily perturbed at all,” he interrupted, “unless I see my sister doing all those things with you,”

“Well, she is my betrothed female and my Lady,” Azriel reminded him casually, “so we do ‘do those things’ as you call them,”

“I don’t need to be reminded!”

Elain appeared—thankfully dressed—with a smile on her face, and exclaimed, “Cass! I didn’t hear you come in!”

She skipped towards him and threw herself into his embrace. He swung her around in his arms, and kissed her head.

“I’ve missed you, petal!”

“I’ve missed you too!”

“You look—stunning,” he had to admit, giving her a once over. “Gods…you are glowing!”

She smiled shyly, ducking her head and then playfully slapped his shoulder, murmuring, “such a flatterer,”

Azriel was observing them silently, still carving the wood, though Cassian sensed some tension in his brother. Azriel was never jealous, especially not of him, but just in case, Cassian stepped away from Elain and sat back down on the bench. Azriel reminded him of a newly mated male, and for a moment, he wondered if they had a mate bond snap for them, which would explain their absences and secrecy.

He watched them exchange a quick glance, but a bout of sneezes interrupted his puzzlement at all of this cagey behaviour. Could Elain have been given two bonds? Elain was mysterious, her power still not entirely revealed, her Cauldron-given abilities developing and unraveling bit by bit. Her power matched Azriel’s in many different, intricate ways, most of which Cassian could not understand. Even Rhys had trouble comprehending what the two of them were capable of, and how vast that power reserve actually was.

“Cass, let me get you something for your allergies,” Elain offered. “Do you want lemonade?”

“Don’t fuss Lainey,” he began, but she waved him off. “Lemonade for my brother is not fussing. I have an ointment that will help you,”

She went back into the house and Cassian draped his arms over his knees, looking out at the sea. This was a damn nice view! No wonder they didn’t want to leave. They split their time between their four residences—Hewn City palace, Azriel’s apartment in Velaris, occasionally they used the palace on the mountain, but typically only for formal meetings, but this—this was their home.

“You are quiet,” Cassian noted, glancing at Azriel.

His brother seemed to have relaxed a bit, even his wings snapped not as tightly as before, and he shrugged in his usual Azriel way, saying nothing.

Cassian finally glanced at the wood that Azriel was working on and he nodded towards the fine carvings, “it’s beautiful…what is it?”

Azriel drew his scarred finger over the wood, and after a moment, said, “it’s headboard for a crib.”

“A crib? Really? Who asked you to make a crib?” wondered Cassian, cocking his brow.

Then he stilled, his eyes widening, “Shit?! Rhys and Feyre? Are they having another baby?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel chuckled, amusement in his eyes, “they haven’t told me.”

“Who else?” pondered Cassian. “Don’t be an asshole! Tell me!” he whined.

“Maybe you?” Azriel winked at him.

“What?” Cassian paled, “wha-…Nes,”

“Oh gods, no!” groaned Azriel, laughing, “I am kidding. Can’t you smell anything?”

“I can’t smell shit!” Cassian wiped his nose, “I am all stuffed up. What am I supposed to be smelling?”

“Elain.”

“What about Elain?”

In the next moment, Cassian tackled Azriel in his hug, both of them landing in the grass, a scream of joy ripping from Cassian’s chest.

“Elain?” he cried, tears springing in his eyes, “a baby…a baby for you,” he rocked Azriel against his chest, and for once, Azriel gently, easily embraced him back.

“Az, I…” Cassian, for once, was speechless. ‘”I am so happy…I am so happy for you,”

Azriel grinned, emotional again, his chest heavy and tight with joy.

“Actually, I need to make two cribs,” he said. “Care to help, uncle?”

[passivenovember]

You Look Stupid When You’re Sad.

Steve Harrington smelled of sour patch kids and unbaked cookie dough.

Billy didn't think it was a bad smell, exactly, just weird; intense, heady, and stuck to the walls of his brain. Doughy when the sunlight couldn't dry the track marks of Steve's sweat before nap time, heady when it got into Billy's system and stuck with him like the thrum of his heartbeat.

Wherever Billy went Steve Harrington was there. Like a shadow. A noisy, scrawny, wire-frame glasses wearing shadow that elbowed its way into the chair across from Billy's during lunch and followed him around at recess; three feet behind and always pretending to spot interesting shapes in the clouds when he thought Billy wasn't looking, but.

Billy was always looking.

It was so weird.

Steve was so weird. The way he made bright, happy noises when he was paired with Billy for station time, how he always drug his mat over from the other side of the room to sleep next to Billy when it was time to zonk out after second recess despite knowing that the spot was saved for Barbara, Billy's actual best friend.

She got nightmares and Billy liked to be there to hold her hand while she dreamed but every afternoon, without fail, Steve came wondering over with his lip stuck out in a question.

It was confusing.

Steve was so confusing. The way he hugged his mat to his chest, chin quivering with a little, "Okay. Sorry, Bills." Every time Billy slapped his hand on the carpet and growled that the spot was taken. Occupation, not reserved for pasty-kneed dorks with wire frame glasses, and.

Billy didn't want to make the kid cry, or anything, but he always managed to do just that. Paint himself as a bad guy.

Billy rubbed his forehead as Barb settled in on his left hand side one afternoon after such an altercation, smiling so big her lips disappeared behind the plastic frames of her glasses.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" She asked, and.

Billy tried not to be jealous.

Steve hiccupped, cheeks growing redder by the second. "I wanna nap with you guys but Billy won't let me."

"Hey, that's not--"

"You can sleep with us if you want to. Billy has a really big blanket, maybe he can share with both of us." Barbara looked at him expectantly, like. "Right Billy?"

And it was dumb.

It was so dumb, that they were staring at him with hopeful eyes and Steve's chin was still quivering and Billy didn't want to be the bad guy; he wasn't Mesogog and he didn't want to hurt the kid's feelings, but.

Steve Harrington got under his skin. With his soft hair and big brown eyes, always following Billy around and begging for the space to be made. Billy got clumsy and nervous when Bambi was nearby, and.

The idea of sharing space. Sleeping next to Steve with his chirpy little noises and warm soft hands, it.

Made Billy feel like he was breaking out in itchy red bumps.

No.

He would stick to his guns; the blanket just wasn't big enough for three people. But then, Billy's grumpy brain supplied, Steve could steal Barbara and keep her as his own best friend if Billy didn't let him stay, so. It was time to cut his losses.

"God, you look stupid when you're sad." Billy muttered.

Steve started crying again.

Billy really wished he'd stop that.

"I'm sorry, Billy. I know I'm dumb but I don't mean to be." Steve whimpered. He tucked his mat under his arm and made to get up.

And leave.

As if Billy would let Steve make him look bad in front of everyone, especially Barbara.

"Lay down, dork." Billy grumbled, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders and peeling it back for Steve reluctantly.

Harrington's smile was so bright it could've melted crayons when he settled in close, chirping happily as Billy pulled the blanket around them and tucked in on impulse. The room went dark, Mr. Talamantez reminding them to count butterflies if sleep wouldn't come.

It didn't.

Steve smelled too much like cream and sugar for Billy to get any rest at all.

--

"Whatcha making, Billy?" Steve asked, pink tongue poking out in concentration as he peered over Billy's arm at his art project.

A stack of pink and red construction paper was Billy's favorite thing in the world because it meant endless possibilities. Pink was soft and sweet, red was passionate and cool. Like hot wheels and firetrucks and hearts full of warm oven mitts, so.

He pulled the leaflets from his backpack during circle time and got busy, carefully folding the delicate paper hamburger style and then tracing swirly, dramatic lines for each heart on the page.

Valentines was Billy's most favorite day of the year.

Even more than Christmas, even more than his birthday, and only a little bit more than Halloween because on Valentines? The whole universe was covered in flowers and little tin wrapped chocolates and love hearts were the best thing for a kid to make with scissors.

Billy ignored Steve's tongue, turning his shoulders to the room. "I'm making love hearts."

"For who?"

"None of your beeswax."

"Okay," Steve said happily, grabbing a handful of markers and re-situating himself much closer than Billy would've liked. Steve's Nike's tapped the itsy-bitsy-spider on the rug as he declared, "I'm drawing batman on a surfboard!"

And Billy tossed aside his first ruined Valentine. "Oh cool, I don't remember asking."

"That's okay," Steve giggled. "Sometimes I get motor mouth. My Daddy says it's 'cause I'm a fruit."

"My daddy called me that sometimes before he got sick." Billy turned to glare at him. "That's not a good thing."

"It is to me!" Steve giggled again. He was always doing that. "I like Kiwis. My mommy packed some for lunch and I had them for breakfast. They're yummy in geek yogurt. They make me smile because they have beards!"

Steve cackled like kiwi's having beards was the funniest thing on earth and Billy wondered what there was to be so happy about.

He tried not to smile at Steve's dumb face. "I think you mean Greek yogurt."

"Yeah, probably. If I'm like a kiwi, that's alright, I think." Steve's tongue poked out again. "Surfboards make me think of you." He declared, and.

Steve smelled like toasted chocolate on s'mores, his hands somehow kicking up more of his sugary sweet odor each time he reached for a new piece of paper. Billy didn't know how he was supposed to get anything done when his circle buddy smelled like a chocolate birthday cake.

It was kinda gross.

Billy pulled out a sliver marker and traced Stinky Butt Max on one of the smaller Valentines, remembering to fold down the corners so the sensitive skin on her palms wouldn't get hurt when she inevitably started smacking him it.

The pink Valentine looked more like a chewed up Starburst gummy this way, but. Max wouldn't know the difference.

Steve peered over his shoulder again, cooing softly. Like a baby dove. "That ones pretty, Bills! Is Max your Valentine?"

"Ew," Billy wrinkled his nose like he sometimes did when Max needed a diaper change. "She's my baby sister, don't be an Ick Monster."

"What's an Ick Monster?"

"Somebody who makes weird jokes and says weird things, so." Billy shrugged, scrawling his mothers name on a second love heart. He poked Steve's tummy with his marker. "That's you, I think."

Steve giggled before slapping Billy's hand away, and. Watching him work.

After a while Steve inched closer. "So you don't have a Valentine?" He wondered, and.

Billy didn't understand the question. "Mr. Talamantez said we're all each other's Valentines so nobody feels sad."

"Yeah, but. Everybody has someone they want to smooch on Valentines." Steve started playing with his hair, fingers twisting waves in a sea of brown, like they sometimes did when he was nervous. "Someone they like best-best. Better than all the other kids."

Now it was Billy's turn to giggle. "That's icky."

"Smooching?" Steve's eyes sparkled. "It's fun sometimes."

"Like you've ever kissed anyone."

Steve looked offended. "Have too."

"Have not."

"Have too," Steve pouted, crossing his arms.

Billy began work on a third Valentine. "Who did you kiss?"

"Nancy Wheeler."

Billy snorted, not sure if he wanted to imagine Steve kissing Nancy Wheeler, or. Kissing at all.

Steve's chin started quivering. "You don't believe me?"

"No." Billy said lightly, capping the marker with a sniff.

Kissing was not fun. It was wet and violent and looked like it maybe hurt a little bit, the way he'd seen his mom and Susan kiss when he got up to go potty at night. Billy regarded Steve through easy, narrowed eyes; Steve wasn't the kind of boy who kissed like that.

"How come you're so weird?" Billy wondered.

"I like being weird." Steve said, reaching for a green marker to color in his surfboard. Steve nodded at the small pile of Valentine's strewn on the carpet between them. "You should put the love hearts on foam when you're done."

"I was already gonna do that, genius."

Billy wasn't already going to do that, but he'd eat a centipede before he let Harrington know he came up with a good idea.

"They could be superhero colors!" Steve hollered suddenly. He was so loud all the time. "That way your mommy and sissy can know that you love them because they're cool. Like Aqua-man."

Billy frowned, watching Steve fold his Batman drawing over and over again until it all but disappeared from sight. He leaned back against the wall with an eye roll, shocked out how much Harrington lacked any concept of taste, or.

Shame.

"Aqua-man isn't cool," Billy said. Because Aqua-man wasn't, he was like. The lamest of them all. "His only power is making the bad guys drown, at least the other heroes can punch really hard."

"Punching isn't always the best, though." Steve tucked Batman into the front pocket of his shirt, leaning into Billy's space. "Sometimes punching just makes the bad guys stronger. Like Wilson Fisk."

Billy frowned. "Punching works for Spiderman."

Steve considered this fact, pink tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth again. He thought really hard for a long time, as if Steve didn't have Spiderman socks on everyday at recess when he removed his Nike's to fill them with rocks.

Such a weird guy.

Finally, Steve smiled. "I like water, though. Your eyes are like water. From the fountain in the hallway, and like the lake at camp." Steve pushed his way into Billy's space, frowning with his head cocked to the side like there was more thinking to cross of the list. "You're very pretty, Billy. Like a cloud."

And.

Billy didn't have the words to articulate the way Steve's smell went a little crazy after that, like a bag of powdered sugar had caught fire from a signal light once he realized what he'd said. Billy waited for Steve to take it back, because.

Boys calling other boys pretty wasn't allowed in Mr. Talamantez' classroom, or. Anywhere else.

Steve didn't take it back.

"You wouldn't like Aqua-Man's water, 'cause you'd drown." Billy said, getting back to work on his Valentines if only for a distraction from the way Steve was watching him. "He doesn't control his power very well and sometimes the mean guys get hurt real bad."

Steve kept right on talking. "I wouldn't be a mean guy though," He reasoned, sliding impossibly closer on the alphabet rug. "I'd help him fight crimes. Like Captain Underpants!"

And.

Billy had nothing to say to that, sucked in and drowning by the way Steve's eyes were glittering.

"You're a weird guy, you know?" Billy breathed.

Steve's giggle went right to Billy's tummy, teaching it to do backflips, somehow.

"That's okay." Steve said, reaching back for a fresh piece of paper. "You'll remember me better and maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine."

Steve's hair fell across his eyes, head bopping along to whatever song he was singing to himself today. His lips glittered like a frosted donut. Like he'd been eating a strawberry ice cream cone instead of confusing all the boys around him.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

Huh.

Billy started work on a new love heart and pretended not to notice.

--

On Tuesday morning Billy woke to the smell of pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice.

Maxine was already up.

Her long red hair was piled on top of her head in two Princess Leia buns. Susan had put in little heart clips and the pink dress Billy's mommy had made special was already covered in mashed banana and something that looked like magic marker.

She was all ready for Valentines day.

Billy didn't understand why they bothered trying to make her look dainty when Max was more interested in destroying Billy's favorite toys and starting fires.

She sat on the floor of the room they shared together, sucking her thumb and playing with Billy's favorite race car. Her wet, chubby fingers made the blue Camaro shine brightly with spit and Billy felt like his face was burning up.

"Hey," He said, rubbing at his eyes. "Hey, you're getting spit all over my--"

"Race car!"

Max held it out to him triumphantly. Billy frowned, moving to grab it from her chubby little fist. "I know that's my race--"

"It's a blue car," Max said thoughtfully. She looked at him, like, "Blue cars are my favorite."

"It's my favorite too--"

"Can we share?" Max wondered, putting the little wheels on Billy's knee and letting the car zoom back and forth. He imagined that Evel Knievel was in the drivers seat wondering why his car wasn't first in the race.

She looked happy, like always, to be playing with Billy's toys.

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess we can share. It's Valentine's Day."

Max seemed to enjoy that. "I like today!"

"You do?"

"Yup," She said happily, little chubby fingers tangling in Billy's hair because he hadn't brushed it yet. "Candy and sour gummy worms and kisses from cute boys!"

Billy glared. "You're kissing cute boys?"

"Uh-huh!" Max hollered. "Lucas gave me a dandelion."

Billy thought long and hard.

About Valentines Day and all the things that came with it. The pink shirt that hung pressed in his closet, fresh cupcakes with plastic rings, a bag of Scooby-doo Valentines Susan had picked up at the market for all his classmates, homemade love hearts at the bottom of his backpack. Three with red foam, one with a delicate lace doily, and.

Kisses.

Max was getting flowers and kisses from a boy.

From someone special.

Billy took the race car from Max's hand and drove it around, thinking about boys with brown eyes and soft hands.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

"Wanna eat some breakfast, Max?"

"I had 'nanas." She said with a smirk.

Billy hummed, standing to get dressed. "Mama probably made chocolate chip pancakes, you don't wanna eat something special?"

Max's little red eyebrows pinched together. "I can have yours?"

And.

Billy didn't know what was so necessary to her about taking everything that was his. Playing with his toys, sleeping in his pj's, eating his breakfast, it was like Max didn't know how take something and make it her own.

Billy pulled the pink shirt over his head, feeling every bit like a turtle when Max did the same with the collar of her dress.

"You can have my pancakes." Billy concluded, puffing out his chest. "If you'll be my Valentine."

"You don't have a boy to kiss?"

"I might," Billy picked the race car off the ground with a smile. "This is practice for when I see him at school. So, will you be my Valentine?"

She thought about it.

Long and hard, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, before nodding with her entire body. "I think he will."

Billy sighed. "Really?"

"If you give him sour gummy worms and smooch his forehead he will," Max said.

And.

Maybe things would turn out okay. Billy nodded, grabbing the race car and driving it across Max's forehead, careful that the little plastic wheels didn't get stuck in her hair.

--

From the stucco ceiling of the classroom beautiful strands of silver and gold hearts painted a mirage of stars.

All the desks had a rose and a cardboard mailbox intended for the delivery of Valentines and at the center of the room a table filled with cupcakes and strawberry Capri-sun packets. Preparation for the party this afternoon, and.

Mr. Talamantez had turned their space into a glittering, perfect fairytale.

Billy hugged his basket of Valentines close to his chest and tried not to search for Steve before dropping his backpack at the cubby station.

He was right in the middle of tugging his special sweater down over his head when Barbara scooted in next to him, pretty in a little pink jumpsuit.

She handed him a tiny, delicate giftbag full of chocolate hearts and dinosaur erasers, smiling from ear to ear as Billy hugged her nice and tight before handing off something he had made special. A tiny paper crane his mommy helped him fold, and a bunch of rainbow goldfish sat nestled in a basket of paper Mache.

They were her favorite snack in the whole world and Barbara was Billy's favorite person, so it seemed fitting.

She hugged him and Billy smiled, peering around the room for a head of wavy brown hair. "We could share our presents with Steve," He muttered, like. It wasn't a big deal or anything. Billy tugged on the sleeves of his red sweater and tried to stay cool. "Where is he?"

Barbara pointed to the book shelves.

Steve was sat under a string of twinkly lights, shoulders tucked against the pillows Mr. Talamantez set aside for circle time. His face was buried in the crook of his elbow, and.

He was crying.

Of course he was crying.

Billy felt the Valentine in his pocket grow heavy.

Barbara said, "Steve broke his glasses, maybe you could make him smile?"

And.

Billy wanted to do that. Longed to make Steve giggle and chirp with happiness like the annoying little Meadowlark he seemed be. It would be so easy to. Walk over there, tap Steve's shoulder, and say the words.

Pose the question.

Will you be my Valentine?

Steve was making huffy, nervous little noises when Billy came to a stop beside him.

"Hey Harrington, playing with all your friends?" Billy sneered, confident that Steve would giggle like he was did, but.

When he finally turned around his face was red and puffy. As if he'd been crying all morning and all night, too.

"What do you want, Billy?" Steve whispered.

He sounded sleepy. Spread thin, like the last spoonful of jam on burned toast.

"What's wrong?" Billy asked carefully. "What happened?"

Steve sat and rubbed at his eyes, chin wobbling as more tears spilled over. "My daddy broke my glasses." He whispered.

And Billy hated it.

He always hated when Steve cried but today. Right now, he.

Felt like he had to do something about it.

Billy took the love heart from his pocket and sat down next to Steve, cuddling back into the pillows until their shoulders were touching. It took all of five seconds for Steve to settle in next to him. Roll his head back against the wall until he was looking at Billy with a question in his eyes.

Steve looked at Billy's shoulder and back up at his face, like.

"Can I--"

"Come here, stupid." Billy grumbled, Pulling Steve in until they were cuddling on the pillows.

Steve chirped. It wasn't his usual sound, light and airy, it was.

Thick.

And heavy.

Like a blanket sopped with rain water. Steve buried his face in Billy's neck. "I don't have any Valentines to give this year."

"That's okay."

"I made something special for you," Steve whispered, pulling back to study Billy's face. "I know Mr. Talamantez said we weren't supposed to, but--"

"Will you be my Valentine?" Billy's stupid mouth said.

Steve blinked at him, and.

Billy wanted to hide in the bathroom for thousand years.

Steve pulled away to sit crisscross-applesauce. Facing Billy, like this was something important. "Huh?"

Billy mirrored him, tucking his hands away so they wouldn't shake when he held out the love heart.

It was pink. Big and bright and outlined with a white doily that Susan helped him glue around the edges. Billy had dug through Max's box of stickers for the one with Winne the Pooh, the one he'd been saving for someone special. Winnie was covered in tiny valentines, eating right out of a jar of honey with a butterfly sitting on his nose, and.

Billy had thought it was perfect.

He worked for hours on the font. The saying that made his mommy laugh when he read it to her; you're bear-y sweet. Be my Valentine.

Steve took the love heart in his hands, and.

Didn't say anything.

Billy frowned. "I just. Remember you asked me to be your Valentine, or. For you to be mine. And--" His hands were shaking again. "It's stupid. God, this is--"

Steve leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

It was gentle. Like the brush of butterfly wings, barely there and then gone before Billy had a chance to really register the movement, or. Think about what it could mean.

Steve wasn't crying anymore when he said, "I'll be your Valentine."

Billy's brain took a minute to catch up. "Huh?"

"I'll be your Valentine, Billy." Steve giggled, staring down at the love heart once more. "This is so cute. I loved Winnie the Pooh when I was a baby. My mom always put me in footie pajamas that had Eeyore on them. And tinker bell too, sometimes. You could've put the Red power ranger on there instead. He's my favorite--"

Billy sat back against the pillows.

He was learning that Steve Harrington was weird.

Like a puzzle with one piece missing, or. An empty tube of bubble mix. Steve was colorful and loud and all over the place with opinions. He shined bright and loved hard, and.

Sometimes it was best to sit back and listen.

--

Happy Valentines Day!!

I really just sat down and wrote this. Wow. Anyway--thank you for reading and supporting my work. Your comments and endless kindness keep me going when I don't always feel like trucking on, and I wanted to do something to remind you that if this was an elementary school classroom I would give you so many lollipops.

[wwhatev3r]

Hi love! Your headcanons and ships are top tier, and I was hoping to request a BOB ship if you're still doing them. If not then no worries!

A little about me: I'm 5'4", I use she/her pronouns, INTP-T, Slytherin, and I've been a vegetarian for 4 years now! I have straight, dark hair, and I'm pretty tan because I'm almost always in a garden, hiking, or just generally spending time outside. My favorite sport is hockey, but I've never actually even ice skated - I just think it would be fun to, despite the fact that I literally hate the cold with a passion and will avoid almost any situation in which I might be anything other than warm. (Literally just full of contradictions; like, I also read a lot, but I'm dyslexic, so it takes it out of me.) I was captain of my section in high school marching band, but didn't have any fun with it haha. The place I grew up very much subscribed to the idea of "girls have to be pretty or funny, no in-between", and because I had to be funny in order to survive, it's left me with a weird, awkward sense of humor. My favorite color is yellow, and during quarantine, I taught myself four new languages!

Thank you, and I hope you have an awesome day! :D

I Ship You With…

Skip Muck!!!

Notes: Okay, your personality and taste drove me to Muck but the fact that you’re INTP and Slytherin got me hanging with more than one or two. I hope you like it! <3333

Yeyy, you got the sweet goofball! <3

A slytherin with a hufflepuff, perfect match! I love it. (Andromeda Black and Ted Tonks vibes If I may say.)

When you first met he was a little shy but Malark and the boys gave him a push to go talk to you at the pub.

I believe it didn't take long for you to start dating, but it depends a little on your part because you’re an INTP.

I mean, how could he not? You are way more than a pretty and funny girl!

You probably had to make sure he was genuinely interested/liked in you; you know, the typical INTP complex of always asking “Why this and why that?” (I speak from experience as a fellow INTP.)

Alright, I already posted this headcanon of mine that Skip Muck is dyslexic too, so there you have it: a pretty cute couple with a lot of struggles.

In that, I mean that you two have to put reminders everywhere due to organization and memory.

“Honey, what time is it? Yeah, I think I had an appointment two hours ago.”

When you get frustrated or tired of reading he takes routes with you and reads out loud for you; that way you can rest your eyes and relax.

Skip was never into gardening until he met you and let me tell you, ya poor boy does try but he messes up a little sometimes.

When you’re planting new flowers he always gets distracted and mixes up the seeds or puts too much water.

Oh, but when you compliment the work he does it’s the cutest thing because he gets so happy: “I did? I love gardening…”

He just loves that you compliment him and show that you’re proud of him.

The first time you went skating was with him and don’t  worry because in Tonawanda (his home-town) it snowed a lot during winter and he was used to the cold and knew pretty well how to skate.

But you did end up with your buts on the ice a couple of times.

He even gave you his coat because of the cold and later you went to a CoffeeShop to get a hot chocolate with.

He later also took you to play hockey with some of your friends and you definitely had a lot of fun but also went home with some bruises.

But, don’t worry he took good care of you.

He genuinely is interested in knowing how to play the instrument you played when you were in the band and asks a lot of questions about the languages you learned.

“How do I say I love you in that language?” 

[girlmeetsliv3]

Lilies of the Valley XI

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

“ Considered a harbinger of good luck, health, and fertility. Over the years, the flower has been adopted a sign for eternal love.”

Release Date: 06/22/20 @  7 pm

previously ~ next

           YN had remained quiet and tense during the car ride, not wanting to speak for she was afraid what might slip out her tongue. She couldn't tell if Hoseok and Namjoon picked up on her silence, but figured that she could shrug it off if they questioned her. Thankfully she wasn't in the car for long, as the house soon came into sight. It took all of her strength not to throw open the car door and bolt towards her room, but that would only arouse suspicion. So instead, she waited until Hoseok opened the door for her. Interlocking their hands the second she stepped out and leading her into the parlor where the rest of them were waiting. Each of them was scattered around the room each entertaining themselves their way, but YN's eyes immediately found Jungkook. Laying outstretched in the couch with a sketchpad in his lap, as the pencil in his hand moved rhythmically.  

           “How did the appointment with Dr. Lee go?” Taehyung asked, setting down his book. Dr. Lee? “It went well though it wasn’t Dr. Lee that saw me.” At this Taehyung quirked an eyebrow, YN figures that perhaps she should’ve lied but figured that she didn’t have to tell them everything. “Oh? Who was it then?” There was something in Taehyung’s dark chocolate eyes that YN didn’t want to read into. “I don’t know some woman with a weird last name. I don’t remember.” She shrugged and that seemed enough to quell the beta, at least for now.

           Jungkook had yet to look up from his sketch pad and YN desperately needed to speak to him but was trying to think of a way to lure him away that didn’t draw attention from the others. So YN walked towards where he was sitting and planted herself on the ground near his head, “What are you drawing?” She spoke softly, gazing at him instead of the drawing. Jungkook turned, flashing her a bright smile. The alpha looked much more at ease since they had mended their relationship, YN wasn’t sure where she stood with the man now. Not after what she found out but knew that Jungkook was the only one that would give her information. The others would surely lie if they didn’t react negatively that is.

           “It’s a tiger lily.” Another fucking lily. “It’s my birth flower.” The drawing was beautiful, YN couldn’t deny that much. Jungkook seemed to be staring at her instead of the flower though. As if absorbed by her beauty. It reminded YN of the previous night: of the kiss with Namjoon and the intimate moment between the others. She had felt nice, safe, warm in the men’s arms and now there were so many thoughts bouncing around her head. It hurt. Everything. YN leaned further in her lips brushing against the shell of Jungkook’s ear, “I need to speak with you.” When she leaned back Jungkook’s doe eyes were wide and in shock. All it took was the slight tilt of her head and Jungkook jumped off the couch, immediately grabbing YN’s hands and pulling her away from the rest of them.

           YN didn’t need to turn back to know all their eyes were on them.

           Jungkook’s room had a specific aesthetic: very minimalistic with what looked like purposeful clutter. Especially toward the back corners where one was dedicated to his computer, cameras, and gaming station. The other was littered with art supplies, though YN did notice a framed picture of all the men on his bedside table. Jungkook took a seat at the edge of his bed noticeably tense despite what seemed like excitement just moments before. YN had only ever been in Namjoon’s room and it had been a very different environment. Perhaps because the lead alpha exuded charisma and a certain intensity the others did not possess. Jungkook on the other hand often went to extremes with his personalities, especially when it came to her. Tentatively YN walks towards Jungkook deep in thought about how to approach this.

           Why Jungkook? Why did you do this? Why take the blame all these years? Why didn’t you just tell me the truth? Why did all of you lie to me?

           “What’s wrong, Lily?”

           That made YN stop in her tracks. Lily? She had noticed the men referring to her by the nickname but didn’t think much of it before. Now though it meant everything. “Why do you guys call me lily?” She tried to make it sound like genuine curiosity but wasn’t sure it would work.

           “You smell like lilies. It’s a nice smell.” Was that it? It couldn’t be. Jungkook’s nerves seemed to have subsided somewhat and he moved back. Patting the empty spot next to him on the bed. YN was beginning to feel unsure about what to do. She didn’t exactly have a plan and figured that it wouldn’t be easy to put the young alpha’s guard down. Unless… YN walked diffidently, instead of taking the empty spot next to him YN chose to straddle the man. Jungkook wasn't expecting it, nonetheless, his hands immediately came to rest on her waist. His grip sturdy, yet comforting.  

           “Can I kiss you?” YN whispers, not being able to look at Jungkook’s eyes. It might appear coy, but in reality, YN was afraid he would be able to figure out her plan the second their eyes met.

           Instead of replying, Jungkook went ahead and kissed her. His soft pink lips taking their time to ease her into the kiss, entirely different from the way the others kissed her. After a couple more seconds, YN parted her lips letting Jungkook take control. She lost track of how much time had passed, but any last nerves the alpha had melted away the longer they kissed. YN finally ended the kiss, taking a deep breath pretending it was due to the kiss instead she was preparing for what she was about to ask. She hid her head in Jungkook’s neck nuzzling his scent gland and she could swear she heard him whine.

           “Bite me.”

           Jungkook immediately tensed, pulling YN away from his neck and forcing her to look at him. “What?” His eyes moved erratically as if he didn’t understand where any of this was coming from.

            "I'm nervous about doing it with the others and it's been a while. It won't hurt since you've already bitten me." She wasn't being serious but she did need to see his reaction. YN Needed to be certain that what the doctor had said was true.  

           “It should be with all of us present. Namjoon-hyung should be the one to bite you since he’s the lead alpha.” Jungkook was shaking his head, refusing in every sense of the word.

           YN’s hands cupped his cheeks and she planted a small smile on her face. “Yeah, I know but I’m nervous. I don’t know how I’ll react or what is expected of me. I trust you Jungkook and -”

           “No. I said no and that’s enough.” The transformation occurred in the blink of an eye and YN was immediately beginning to regret her idea. Maybe she should’ve attempted to do this with one of the betas. YN tried to move off Jungkook’s lap but his grip held her in place. “We’re all mates and it wouldn’t be fair. We’ve already been together and then you left. Ran away. I don’t want that to happen again.” His arms tightened around her every word he spoke, his pupils dilating in quiet anger. “So we’ll do it together. I can talk to Namjoon if you want. I’ll explain you’re nervous - he’ll understand.” Jungkook had the same look on his face that Namjoon had the previous night. Animalistic almost. As if he was more alpha than human at that moment.

           “Okay, Jungkook.” YN’s tone wavered a bit, but Jungkook seemed happy with her acceptance allowing her to move off his lap. YN swallowed thickly, “I’m going to go to the bathroom.” Jungkook nodded, a smirk on his face. “I’ll wait for you.”

           Before she left Jungkook called to her, “Anything else you want to ask me?” He knew. He had to. There was no other way around it, he had figured her out.

           “Yeah, um, where the others around during my first heat?”

           “Yes,” Jungkook said with ease. “They were in the house but didn’t participate. You should know, you asked for them to be there. Remember?”

           “Ah, there you are.” Seokjin had caught her while she was attempting to sneak away back to her house. “Can I speak to you for a bit? It’s important.” YN nodded, still dazed with that had happened with Jungkook. “Are you okay? You’re a bit pale.” Seokjin’s large hand cupped her chin, tilting her head upwards. Seokjin’s scent was always calming and YN wondered how that occurred when he was an alpha. Seokjin pecked her lips quickly, not bothering to ask, before telling her to follow him.

All of the men's rooms were located on the second floor of the house, except Namjoon's who was on the third, despite this, there was a complicated layout to it. YN was certain that it would be easy to get lost and began to think that was done purposefully. Especially because Seokjin turned so many corners and different directions only to end up in the group's study. The room was a combination of all their differing tastes and had looked somewhat incohesive until YN had organized it while in her nesting craze.  

           “What is it, Seokjin?” The alpha went towards the computer in the center, unlocking it and searching for something.

           “Your parents contacted us.” His eyes darted to her momentarily before focusing back on the screen.

           “They contacted you?” There was a second question there, but YN didn’t feel the need to voice it knowing Seokjin would pick up on it.

           Having found what he wanted Seokjin printed it out, an email, and handed it to her. “They apologized for their behavior and everything that occurred at the party. They stated that they feel remorseful and understand if you don’t wish to speak with them for a while.” It was all a bit too much. Everything that was occurring to YN right now. Perhaps noticing how the omega’s shoulders were shaking and the unshed tears in her eyes, Seokjin pulled her into an embrace.

           “Why didn’t they just tell me?” Why did they abandon me? Is it because - Once again her thoughts headed towards a dark direction and YN wondered if her life would have turned out differently, better, had she been a beta. “I don’t know sweetheart.” She wasn’t sure how she should feel being comforted by the man, but she desperately needed a hug. “There’s something else, YN.” YN gently pulled away from Seokjin stepping back to leave space between them. Not trusting her voice not to falter, YN nodded encouraging him to continue.

           “Your parents are cutting off their financial support. They said things have gotten tough and they can’t afford to maintain both you and your sister.”

            Now that provided a different kind of problem because if YN wanted to get out of the house, she'd have nowhere to stay. Unless she roomed with Rosé but YN found that unlikely, Rosé didn't have enough money for the two of them. "Don't worry I already spoke with the others and we've agreed to help Rosé out." YN snapped out of her thoughts. "What do you mean?" Why would they need to help Rosé?

           “Your parents were paying the rent, so Rosé didn’t. Which is a good thing because she couldn’t afford it anyway and your landlords don’t seem very lenient. Considering they kicked you out without remorse.” Seokjin’s tone was blunt and careless, his arms crossed across his chest. It then dawned on YN what all this was. What they were doing. Surely they knew by now, they must’ve. YN was being cornered and cut off being implicitly told that she couldn’t leave without there being consequences. It wasn’t just about her anymore, but her best friend as well. They were providing financial support to Rosé in the case YN acted out of line.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. I'll speak to Rosé about it later on today."  

          The day dragged on and soon dinner rolled around, YN found herself getting cornered once again but this time by Jimin. "Can I ask something of you?" The others were setting up the table while Seokjin was plating the food. "Sure." Jimin was practically bouncing on his feet, it made her anxious though she would never state so. "Can you sleep with us?" YN's eyes widened and she shook her head immediately, Jimin only chuckled though. "Not like that perv. I meant in our bed," His eyes dragged seductively along her figure. "It would be nice and it's something we should do before we continue." Jimin didn't elaborate anymore, in fact, he didn't even let her answer. Simply kissing her before walking away. Ar this rate YN was beginning to entertain the usage of a mask, but what worried her wasn't how often they were kissing her. Rather than biologically speaking, she enjoyed it - deeply so.

           Seokjin had cooked Samgyeopsal, Japchae, and kimchi - upon Jungkook’s insistence - the food was marvelous, but that was to be expected. The men were rambunctious and loud as they typically were, though YN was much quieter compared to them never to the degree she was tonight. Her silence the cause of her attempting to form a game plan for what to do: does she confront the men? Does she simply try to escape? Without monetary support, the only place that would welcome her was the boarding house, but that wasn’t an agreeable option. Not to mention they would assign her a social worker and have to prove that her environment was a hostile one - which it wasn’t explicitly. For as progressive as living near the city was, it didn’t compare to the rights omegas had in other countries. The way they could govern themselves without needing a mate.

           “YN.”

           All their eyes were on her, YN realized they must’ve been speaking to her, and being so lost in her thoughts, she had failed to notice. “I’m sorry, I zoned out for a bit. What were you saying?” They all stared at her with such intensity, YN nearly cowered in her seat.

           “My rut is coming soon and that can tend to somewhat trigger the others,” Namjoon spoke, his voice was calm and the words seemed planned. “I hate to put you on the spot and don’t want you to feel pressured, but we wanted to know if you would participate.”

            Fuck. “i-I’d have to think about it. I promise to let you all know.” Hopefully, that would be enough of an answer for them. YN hoped they wouldn’t truly pressure her into anything, though from their modus operandi it didn’t seem like it.

           "Don't worry, it isn't that big a deal," Taehyung states, cutting up his food and placing it in his mouth. YN wonders if that is a lie too. Out of the corner of her eye, YN can feel Jungkook staring at her. The look seems inquisitive, but she ignores him and focuses back on the food.

       “You startled me,” YN says as she tries to calm her racing heart. It seems the men could not leave her alone for a second. YN had stated that she was going to shower and change, Jimin had told her to ‘hurry’ and that they would keep the bed warm. YN had to control the shivers that threatened to go down her spine. Yoongi was leaning against the door of her room, a small smile on his face. “Jimin was persistent that I make sure you did not run away.” It sounded like a double entendre even if it likely wasn’t meant that way. “Truthfully, however,” Yoongi sighed, “I wanted to check up on you. You seem a bit off since the doctor’s appointment.”

        Was it that noticeable? Maybe they were just more observant than she’d ever give them credit for. Speaking about the appointment wasn’t the best way to, YN knew she would slip up and reveal too much. Instead, YN decided to ask the one thing she’d always wanted to know, the one propelling force in their bond.

        “What is the pack bond like? I mean what does it feel like?”

         Yoongi remained silent for a while, still staring at YN but not fully acknowledging her as if lost in thought. The silence lasted so long YN assumed he just wasn’t going to answer, resigning herself to yet another failed attempt. Until Yoongi finally spoke.

         "Have you ever been by yourself in nature? Surrounded by nothing but grass, trees, the sound of birds, the breeze of the wind. Surrounded by life. At that moment, you feel connected to the earth. As if you were not a singular being, not an anomaly, but apart of something greater: a part of life. There is no reason to question your existence or your purpose in life because you are simply a part of this grander tale. No more or less important than the flowers on the ground."

          The fixed look Yoongi gave her spoke much more than his words ever could. "It might sound silly, but that was the pack bond feels like. That's what I felt like seeing Namjoon that first time, meeting the others, and seeing you in that field during school. It felt as natural as breathing and as beautiful as living." So consumed where the two of them by each other at that moment that both failed to notice what information had been revealed. It would not be until later that they would realize it as well. YN felt her heart skip a beat and she took a tentative step towards the beta.

          “Yoongi -”

           At that moment the phone would ring, his phone, Yoongi answering it with urgency. YN recognized Hoseok's voice from the other side, but couldn't decipher what he was saying. Suddenly YN heard the sound of police sirens off in the distance when her eyes met Yoongi's again the betas glare was cold and unforgiving. He hung up the phone and turned around, not even sparing a glance at her as he opened the door.

          “Stay inside.”

          It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order. The door closed behind him and YN stood frozen on the spot trying to wrap her mind around everything that had just happened. Her feet led her to the door before her mind could catch up, her hand rising to meet the knob only to find it locked. YN tried again, tried with both, she pushed and pulled against the doors but they wouldn’t budge. This was it. He’d locked her inside. He’d locked her away.

“Yoongi! Yoongi open the door! Yoongi open the door! Please! Open the door!”

Tag List:

@hxsxxk-180294​ @saxpam24​ @trixsterbi @mel-gonzalez07​ @cstobitk​ @dionysus-png​ @taekimxx​ @moonlitehunter @joonie-grim​ @wonderlace19​ @sugashaye​ @rosey-roseu​ @mintaemark​ @ciderxi @soloikeadates​ @alex--awesome--22​ @ruth619​ @tinger-k​ @thenyousaidhello​ @missseoulite​ @justdidabadthing​ @ireallylikefoodandyoutube​ @letmebeyour-sun​ @lyoongx​ @kpopfictrash​ @purpuravm​ @unsureofwhathappens​ @blank-et-noir @thatchampagnebitch​ @elenaramos1​ @oofmeintheheadpls​ @leftflowerprunedonut​

[himitsu-luna]

Umbrella

♪~ Now playing - Love Song, by Nct 127 ~♪

Warnings: none

Pairing: Doyoung x reader

Genre: fluff/ friends to lovers

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— "Ohh great! It's raining!", you say out loud, standing in front of the small convenience store you've just left, while watching huge water drops hitting the ground. This ordinary statement may look harmless, but you were able to make it sound almost like a curse.

You hate when it rains. The thunders scare you, your feet get all soaked inside of your shoes, the traffic turns into a mess of impatient beeping cars, the bright and warm sun is gone, the day loses its colors and becomes gloomy, and you see your mood instantly turning gray like the sky.

Your plans were simple, easy, error proof. Step one: walk to the convenience store, ten minutes away from your home by foot. Checked. Step two: buy ingredients to bake the chocolate chip cookies you woke up craving this morning. Checked. Step three: go back home, prepare everything, and eat the cookies while watching a good drama. Big fail. You now are stuck, unable to give one step out of your shelter. You blame yourself for not having an umbrella. But who would imagine that the beautiful clean blue sky could unleash such a massive waterfall today? "Well, all I can do now is wait" - you finally say to yourself, tired of giving the rain angry glances and accepting that this is a much better option than throwing a tantrum.

After five minutes of a boring waiting, you see from afar a familiar lean and elegant figure walking towards you, under a enourmous black umbrella. You heart skips a beat when the man gets closer and you visualize better the perfect shaped features of his face. It's Doyoung.

Doyoung and you are acquantances since high school, and now you're taking the same course at college. You say "acquantances" because you could never consider yourself close to THE Doyoung. Even though you two interact quite a lot, Doyoung is like an untouchable legendary being. He is the crush of half of the campus, and just because the other half still didn't have the opportunity to meet him. You, of course, is part of the first group.

— "Hey! Y/N!! Hello!! – you see Doyoung waving his slender free hand at you, while approaching more and more. "Hi Doyoung!", You answer, when he is already in front of you, near enough to be able to hear your shy voice. "What are you doing standing here?", he asks you, leaning a bit to get to your eyes' level. "Ah, I'm waiting for the rain to stop, so I can go home. I have no umbrella, you know, hehe". Doyoung straights his back again, and looks at the sky, showing off his long and gorgeus neck, to which you give a quick glance before looking down, timidly. "Hmmm.." – Doyoung stars talking again – "This rain won't stop anytime soon, you know?... Do you... Want me to take you home?" . You freeze for a second, still processing his proposal. You're about to refuse it though, because you don't want to bother him, but he just pulls you under his umbrella and you walk away side by side, arms touching, stepping on the wide water puddles on the street – "Let's go! I can't just let you here", he says with his soft voice.

–"Oh my God, what is happening? Please heart, you're going to give me out!", you think, still not believing you are so close to Doyoung. You walk some blocks in silence, when he suddenly asks you if he can carry your shopping bags for you. You refuse a million times, but he is as stubborn as you, and manages to snatch it from your hands. He steal a glance at its inside, and gives a little chuckle -"Ohh y/n! I see you still like these sour candies no one likes! hahaha". You could feel offended, but you got happily surprised. You didn't know that such a trivial and random fact about you was known to him. Actually, not even your best friends knew about your eccentric taste in candies. You can't help but feeling flattered somehow, trying to hide a fool smile from him.

---

1st year of high school

Doyoung was a new student at the school. He knew no one, and was wandering alone through the school building, looking for something to eat at the break time. He saw a little vending machine in a dark corner near the stairs, and he went there to buy some chocolate. For his disappointment, the machine was mean. It stole his money and gave him no candy. Looking defeated with a empty stomach, he turned around to go back to the class, when you suddenly appeared, slaping the machine at some specific place, making it spit a chocolate bar right away. Doyoung grabed his prize and looked at you. He immediately noticed two things. Your warm, kind and pretty face, and a half eaten green sour candy in your right hand. His heart started beating faster as he introduced himself to you, and yours was in the same state as his, as he showed you his cute gummy smile.

---

Still walking your way to your house, you sneakily try to look at his face, but, for your surprise and shock, he is looking directly at the top of your head. "You... Changed your shampoo?", he asks you, with a curious look in his eyes. "Oh yes! After years using the same brand, I decided to change it! But wait, how do you know that??", you reply, and the confusion is clear in your tone. "It's just... not the same smell. But I still like it". His poker face is really difficult to read, although you can swear you saw some hint of red tinting his pale cheeks for a second. However, all you think as an answer is a plain "Thank you", before you fall in silence again.

---

2nd year of high school

Doyoung and you were lab partners at Science classes. Doyoung loved it, since he got the opportunity to be close to you. You never noticed his amused sparkling eyes looking at you while you excitedly explained him the subject. In one of these blessed classes, while paying attention to a glass filled with a purple liquid in front of you , you two got so close that the scent of your hair mightly hit Doyoung's senses, inebriating him. "Apple". That was his only thought until the conclusion of the class.

---

– "We are almost at your house, right? We just need to turn left there and you'll be safe and sound!" , Doyoung said, in a strangely melancholic way. "Yes! That's right! That's... Right. Oh, so you know where I live?". You were confused. You've just noticed that you never told him where your house was, and he literally guided you there without any instructions. He seems startled by your question, as he answers it, scratching the back of his neck: - " ahh..this... I saw you leaving your house once. So yes, I know." You keep in silence again, but this time you can feel his body becoming warmer and warmer through the few layers of clothes that keep your arms from really touching each other.

---

3rd year of high school

Doyoung was on his way to school, when a gorgeous tree, loaded with pink blooming flowers, grabbed his attention. He stopped to give a good look at it, but suddenly his eyes decided to focus on a beautiful figure, your figure, the one he knew so well, leaving the yellow house in front of the big tree. He was hypnotized. Thousands of petals were dancing over you, guided by the soft spring wind. It was almost like the winter snow, even though your bright sunny smile at the sky reminded him of a happy summer day, and the increasing warmth inside of his chest felt like the cozy Autumn. With that vision he got the confirmation. He was completely in love with you.

---

You stop in front of your house. Now you're facing each other, still squeezed under the black umbrella, the rain insistently pouring over you. It's time to say goodbye, but the farewell just refuses to leave both of your mouths. You, then, finally say, getting your bags back from his hands -"Well, I need to enter now. I'm baking some cookies." "Are you going to put some walnuts in your cookies? I know you love them!", Doyoung says, innocently, getting you by surprise again. "Doyoung, I'm actually really admired! I... I didn't know you knew so many little details about me. You must be a really observant person!", you wrapped your phrase like that, talking more to yourself than to him, trying to not be delusional about it.

Doyoung takes a deep breath. For a minute, he keeps his eyes shut. When he finally opens them, you see their tenderness filling your soul, as he starts to speak :"y/n, I'm only observant when it comes to you. I know a lot of things about you. I know you scrunch your nose when you don't like something; I know you bite your nails when you're feeling anxious; I know your favorite color is orange because your favorite fruit is also orange; I know you're bad at remembering dates, so you have them all written down in your notebook; I know you dislike horror movies, cry at sad movies and get excited over hero movies; I know you speak while sleeping, but only when you're too tired; I know you have this little moon shaped birth mark at your shoulder, and you are proud of it ." He stops to take a breath. Your heart is pumping faster than ever. He moves his free arm and reaches for your hand, intertwining his slim fingers with yours. At the same time, he gives a short step towards you, reducing the distance between your bodies to almost zero. His face slowly gets closer and closer to yours, and you can feel his mint breath as he start talking again: "And I know... I know you like me as much as I like you." This being said, Doyoung, all of sudden, drops the umbrella that was protecting you two, and cups your face with both of his hands. While you get drenched by the rain, your lips land on each other's and melt into a sweet, slow paced and long kiss, full of affection and passion. He carefully breaks the kiss apart, and gives you a cheeky smile, while moving his hands to your waist : "I also know you hate when it rains, and you hate to get soaked, so I'm sorry for this". You laugh lightly, replying before pulling him for another kiss : "I guess you finally got something wrong. I actually really love when it rains".

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~°• taglist - @starrdustville

[kaidas-daydreams]

kaida's note: i have a huge crush on tendou and i rarely see any appreciation for him and this popped into my head as i ate a piece of chocolate cheesecake 💭

synopsis: everyone around you judges you for being with tendou but no one ever sees how wonderful of a person he is towards you. sometimes others opinion on you two can effect tendou's self-esteem but he'll always be the one for you.

genre: fluff, slight angst

tendou satori x gn! reader

warning: none

sweeter than chocolate

no one around you could understand it what did you see in tendou satori exactly? he was a weird one to say the least. most of the time no one could understand him, almost as if he was living in a world of his own but to you that was okay because he wasn't made for them he was made for you.

they didn't see the way he brought you your favorite flowers on days you were upset. they didn't see the way he'd brush your hair before bed when you were too sleepy to move. they didn't see the way he'd tuck you in and give you a goodnight's kiss before leaving your dorm. they didn't see how he'd bring you fresh soup and cold medicine when you were feeling under the weather, no one saw any of it. you smile at the thought of your dotting boyfriend, everything he's done for you has been unbelievable.

"salutations my beautiful little flower" a tiny box of chocolates were placed in front of you, you looked up and met the dark red colored eyes of your boyfriend.

"good morning satori" you smiled towards him as he leaned his face closer towards you, you offered him a small smile before placing a light peck on his cheek.

“did you sleep well?” he asked

“i had a good night’s rest thanks for asking, how did you sleep?”

“it wasn’t too bad, would’ve been better if i got to see you before bed but volleyball practice was intense again yesterday”

“well i’m here now” you kept the smile on your face as you looked into his eyes and he surprisingly gave you a small peck on the lips. you heard giggling from some of the girls in the room as soon as you looked there way they quickly looked away as if they weren’t just making fun of you two.

“so annoying” you said with an eyeroll.

“you really don’t mind being with me do you?” you looked over at tendou who had a worried look on his face. tendou never cared for anyone’s opinion on him, he was who he was and if they accepted him then fine and if not then still fine but when it came to you it was different. he knew still wondered himself why someone as amazing and normal as yourself could ever stand to be with a monster like him. he knew himself that he wasn’t the most sane person and he hears the constant whispers that circulate you both when you walk down the hallways together, hell even some of his teammates question how he got to be with you jokingly or not it bothered him.

he wouldn’t admit it but he fears the day you may wake up from this trance and leave him without warning. he thinks about how one day you won’t be at his games cheering him on, you won’t be sneaking into his dorm late at night to have a movie marathon, you won’t be helping him study but most importantly he won’t be able to see that precious smile of yours. that smile that he loves to make, that smile that makes everything easier for him just by thinking about it, that smile that gives him butterflies no matter how many times he’s already seen it.

“no i don’t, i love you satori and i hope you know the only way this relationship is ever going to end is if you decide to leave me one day” you said taking his hand into yours.

“i’m not going anywhere” he was quick to say causing you to giggle

“then i guess we’re stuck together”

“we’re getting married then!?” he looked at you with hopeful eyes.

“let’s save marriage until after high school and college first okay?” you said as tendo vigorously nodded his head ‘yes.’

“anything you want”

“tendou you're sweeter than any piece of chocolate you bring me” you popped a piece of chocolate in your mouth savoring the sweet chocolatey taste, thinking of the future you and tendou plan to have in the future.