#she who Earned her Wings

[traeumenvonbuechern]

🐉 Dragon Books To Read If You Liked "Fourth Wing" by Rebecca Yarros 🐉

The dragon romantasy "Fourth Wing" by Rebecca Yarros has taken over the bookish community, so I wanted to give you some recommendations on what to read after you finished it.

Dragonfall by L.R. Lam

Long ago, humans betrayed dragons, stealing their magic and banishing them to a dying world. Centuries later, their descendants worship dragons as gods. But the 'gods' remember, and they do not forgive. Since they were orphaned, Arcady has scraped a living thieving on the streets of Vatra, dreaming of life among the nobility - and revenge. When the chance arises to steal a powerful artefact from the bones of the Plaguebringer, the most hated person in Lumet history, they jump at it, for its magic holds the key to their dreams. But the spell has unintended consequences, and drags Everen - the last male dragon, who was once foretold to save his kind - into the human world. Trapped, and disguised as a human, Everen soon realises that the key to his destiny, and to regaining his true power, lies in Arcady. All he needs to do is convince one little thief to bond with him completely - body, mind, and soul - and then kill them . . . Yet the closer the two become, the greater the risk both their worlds will shatter.

To Shape a Dragon's Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose

A young Indigenous woman enters a colonizer-run dragon academy—and quickly finds herself at odds with the “approved” way of doing things—in the first book of this brilliant new fantasy series. The remote island of Masquapaug has not seen a dragon in many generations—until fifteen-year-old Anequs finds a dragon’s egg and bonds with its hatchling. Her people are delighted, for all remember the tales of the days when dragons lived among them and danced away the storms of autumn, enabling the people to thrive. To them, Anequs is revered as Nampeshiweisit—a person in a unique relationship with a dragon. Unfortunately for Anequs, the Anglish conquerors of her land have different opinions. They have a very specific idea of how a dragon should be raised, and who should be doing the raising—and Anequs does not meet any of their requirements. Only with great reluctance do they allow Anequs to enroll in a proper Anglish dragon school on the mainland. If she cannot succeed there, her dragon will be killed. For a girl with no formal schooling, a non-Anglish upbringing, and a very different understanding of the history of her land, challenges abound—both socially and academically. But Anequs is smart, determined, and resolved to learn what she needs to help her dragon, even if it means teaching herself. The one thing she refuses to do, however, is become the meek Anglish miss that everyone expects. Anequs and her dragon may be coming of age, but they’re also coming to power, and that brings an important realization: the world needs changing—and they might just be the ones to do it.

She Who Earned Her Wings by Vaela Denarr & Micah Iannandrea

One does not learn to fly without taking a leap. And one has to fall to be caught. Nomi is a young druid finally taking the chance to spread her wings and leave her home. To see the world and discover its magic, beauty… and maybe love. Calia is a dragon on the hunt for angels, trying to square an old debt. That, and to get Laura, her desired bondmate, to finally return to her side, where she belongs. Nomi immediately catches the eye of the powerful dragons. Calia entices her with honeyed words and a skillful tongue. On the other hand, Laura, much smaller but equally intimidating, takes it upon herself to protect her. Despite the warnings, Nomi can’t help being drawn to Calia's charm, her power, her fangs… and the hidden gentleness in her eyes. She promises danger where Laura promises safety, and Nomi is torn between the two. Luckily there is a convenient cult out for the dragons’ heads, providing Nomi with ample distraction and at least one dragon egg to steal, hatch, and raise by herself. Perfectly normal things for a young transgender druid to get involved in! In the clutches of dragons, battling dark forces from beyond the stars, Nomi faces the questions of who she is and who she wants to be. Whether she deserves the love offered to her, and what it truly takes to earn her wings...

[transbookoftheday]

🐉 Trans Dragon Books 🐉

One does not learn to fly without taking a leap. And one has to fall to be caught. Nomi is a young druid finally taking the chance to spread her wings and leave her home. To see the world and discover its magic, beauty… and maybe love. Calia is a dragon on the hunt for angels, trying to square an old debt. That, and to get Laura, her desired bondmate, to finally return to her side, where she belongs. Nomi immediately catches the eye of the powerful dragons. Calia entices her with honeyed words and a skillful tongue. On the other hand, Laura, much smaller but equally intimidating, takes it upon herself to protect her. Despite the warnings, Nomi can’t help being drawn to Calia's charm, her power, her fangs… and the hidden gentleness in her eyes. She promises danger where Laura promises safety, and Nomi is torn between the two. Luckily there is a convenient cult out for the dragons’ heads, providing Nomi with ample distraction and at least one dragon egg to steal, hatch, and raise by herself. Perfectly normal things for a young transgender druid to get involved in! In the clutches of dragons, battling dark forces from beyond the stars, Nomi faces the questions of who she is and who she wants to be. Whether she deserves the love offered to her, and what it truly takes to earn her wings...

Revisit the enchanting world of Tea Dragons with an all-new companion story to the two-time Eisner Award-winning graphic novel The Tea Dragon Society, now in paperback! Rinn has grown up with the Tea Dragons that inhabit their village, but stumbling across a real dragon turns out to be a different matter entirely! Aedhan is a young dragon who was appointed to protect the village but fell asleep in the forest eighty years ago. With the aid of Rinn’s adventuring uncle Erik and his partner Hesekiel, they investigate the mystery of his enchanted sleep… but Rinn’s real challenge is to help Aedhan come to terms with feeling that he cannot get back the time he has lost. Critically acclaimed graphic novelist K. O'Neill delivers another charming, gentle fantasy story about finding your purpose, and the community that helps you along the way.

Long ago, humans betrayed dragons, stealing their magic and banishing them to a dying world. Centuries later, their descendants worship dragons as gods. But the 'gods' remember, and they do not forgive. Since they were orphaned, Arcady has scraped a living thieving on the streets of Vatra, dreaming of life among the nobility - and revenge. When the chance arises to steal a powerful artefact from the bones of the Plaguebringer, the most hated person in Lumet history, they jump at it, for its magic holds the key to their dreams. But the spell has unintended consequences, and drags Everen - the last male dragon, who was once foretold to save his kind - into the human world. Trapped, and disguised as a human, Everen soon realises that the key to his destiny, and to regaining his true power, lies in Arcady. All he needs to do is convince one little thief to bond with him completely - body, mind, and soul - and then kill them . . . Yet the closer the two become, the greater the risk both their worlds will shatter.

[haveyoureadthistransbook]

She Who Earned Her Wings by Vaela Denarr and Micah Iannandrea

goodreads

One does not learn to fly without taking a leap. And one has to fall to be caught.

Nomi is a young druid finally taking the chance to spread her wings and leave her home. To see the world and discover its magic, beauty… and maybe love. Calia is a dragon on the hunt for angels, trying to square an old debt. That, and to get Laura, her desired bondmate, to finally return to her side, where she belongs.

Nomi immediately catches the eye of the powerful dragons. Calia entices her with honeyed words and a skillful tongue. On the other hand, Laura, much smaller but equally intimidating, takes it upon herself to protect her.

Despite the warnings, Nomi can’t help being drawn to Calia's charm, her power, her fangs… and the hidden gentleness in her eyes. She promises danger where Laura promises safety, and Nomi is torn between the two. Luckily there is a convenient cult out for the dragons’ heads, providing Nomi with ample distraction and at least one dragon egg to steal, hatch, and raise by herself. Perfectly normal things for a young transgender druid to get involved in!

In the clutches of dragons, battling dark forces from beyond the stars, Nomi faces the questions of who she is and who she wants to be. Whether she deserves the love offered to her, and what it truly takes to earn her wings...

Mod opinion: I haven't read this book yet, but it sounds interesting and I'm hoping to get around to it at some point.

[queerio-cheerios]

STARS, HEARTS AND DREAMS: SHE WHO BROUGHT THE STORM & SHE WHO EARNED HER WINGS

💖sapphic trans MCs

🌈all-queer cast

💕poly dragon lesbians

🐈‍⬛cute animals

✨baby dragons

🥰trans joy

🩸murder mystery

⚔️protective GF vs danger GF

💕she likes them both

❤️‍🔥they both like her

❤️‍🩹it's complicated

Cover reveal coming February

[mihotose]

[starlooove]

Oh. Sad

[tojirights]

❛ you taste like heaven. ❜

Alastor with angel!reader omg. I imagine that reader was Alastor's wife back when they were alive, but didn't see eachother again after death because Alastor is in hell and reader is in heaven. I imagine that after Sir Pentious got redeemed, Sera sent reader (because she has experience with demons(? Ur choice) and Sera trusts her a lot) down to hell to investigate this 'hazbin hotel'.

a/n: AHHHH i almost didnt want to write smut into this because it was so precious 😭 ooc alastor again but its so CUTE. i added my "alastor speaks french" agenda to this as well lol.

buy me a coffee? 😇

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, fem! receiving oral

heaven was in shambles after the last extermination, no one knew what would happen next now that souls could be redeemed from hell. it was then that sera approached you in private, all but begging you to go be an "ambassador." you were hesistant at first, not only thinking that this was a lot of responsibility, but also that your... husband had to be down there. he wasn't a "good man" after all, but your heart still fluttered at the thought of seeing him once more. with a sigh, you accept sera's plea and prepare for your trip down to the hazbin hotel.

there to greet you, was charlie morningstar herself, bright eyed and bubbly just like you heard all about. she leads you into the foyer of the hotel before you stop dead in your tracks. charlie is still speaking a mile a minute in your ear, trying to welcome you as best she can, but you're not listening. your eyes meet alastor's, immediately recognizing him even in this new form of his. and when his smile almost fades, you know he recognizes you too.

there's another brief pause before you're running towards him, your wings unfurling on their own as you're quickly wrapped up in his embrace. the other inhabitants of the hotel watch, confused, seeing as alastor hasn't really let anyone but niffty get close enough to touch him, let alone embrace him. your wings fluff up and cover your faces as you lean up to kiss your estranged partner. "oohh, sweetheart.." he sighs against your lips. "its been..."

you smile between kisses, your heart racing in your chest. "too long." you finish his sentence, earning a chuckle from the demon. his lips kiss a trail to your ear, a low growl to his voice as he whispers to you. "you taste like heaven, darling." your cheeks go red, not quite prepared for such a comment, especially in front of company. "alastor!" you hiss, hitting his chest gently but he just pulls you closer in response.

finally, he addresses the group behind you who are all standing with their jaws hanging open. "now, if you're all done gawking, i believe my wife needs to be shown around..."

husk spits out his drink as alastor speaks, covering angel in alcohol. "your WHAT!?" you hide your face as calamity ensues, everyone trying to speak over eachother at the insane news. "your wife... is an angel?" charlie asks gently, trying to get to the bottom of this. "well, i couldn't have known for sure but she was always more a saint than i." alastor hums, running his hand down your back. you shudder when he touches your wings, to which he notes in his head for later.

"o-oh! well then! i guess you should show her around, yeah?" she smiles bashfully, still taken aback by everything happening since your arrival just a few minutes ago. you look up at alastor, your cheeks aching from smiling so wide. "i think i'd like that." you whisper to him, enjoying the way he pulls you closer to him. "hold on tight then, my love."

you're not sure what he means by that until you're slipping into the shadows with him. its an odd feeling, but you don't think much of it until you're reappearing in what you assume is his bedroom. alastor is careful with you, like he's afraid the wrong touch will burn you, but he craves the feeling of your bare skin against his hands more than he can admit. you smile, reaching your hands up to cup his face. "touch me, al. i'm not fragile..."

your words light a spark deep within him, forcing him to restrain himself from ripping your pretty clothes into tatters. he groans inwardly, large hands reaching around to pick you up before fumbling his way to the bed. "corrupting an angel wasn't on my bucket list until seeing you again, my dear." his tone, its not what you're used to hearing, but that gravelly undertone shoots straight through you. "oh please, you can't corrupt me more than you already have." alastor's lips find the sensitive skin of your neck and you feel him smirk.

"i hope that's not a challenge." he tests, tugging at the hem of your dress. you all but giggle, lifting up so alastor can free your body of clothes. "and what if is it?" you challenge, knowing full well that alastor wouldn't let your teasing continue without proper punishment. his eyes darken red, and there's a tinge of fear in your gut. because this may still be alastor, but its been quite a while, you don't know how he's changed.

but as he kisses down your stomach, you're reassured that the man you married is still there somewhere, underneath this 'radio demon' persona. "your lips tasted of heaven, mon amour, does this taste so sweet as well?" alastor's words alone are enough are enough to make you whimper, then the feeling of his hot breath against your clothed cunt makes your core pulse.

your hands naturally fall to the top of his head, feeling the softness of his ears and the rough points of his antlers. "c-can i..?" you start, timidly holding onto the horns. alastor's body shudders as he shoves his face into your thigh. "yes, ma chérie. please do." he breathes, tugging on the thin fabric of your panties until they rip in half.

alastor wants to be patient, wants to treat you like the angel you are, but he is a demon after all. and he hasn't gotten such a delicious meal in far too long. after he feels your grip tighten on his antlers, he lets loose his self control. his first taste of your sweet pussy sends him into a frenzy, eating you like a man starving. his tongue swipes up your slit before circling your clit in quick flicks. your legs are shaking already, breathy moans leaving your lips with reckless abandon.

there's a part of you that is concerned to be getting your cunt ate by a demon, but this demon was your husband, after all. sera made you come down here and you might as well enjoy yourself, right?

your hips arch up, craving more and more, and alastor is happy to oblige. "this is heaven, my dear. not some palace in the sky, but here, between your legs." your eyes well with tears, overwhelmed in more ways than one. every pass of his tongue has your release teetering on the edge while his sweet words make your heart flutter. its almost too much, and when alastor sucks on your clit, your walls burst.

"a-alastor i'm..." you mewl, every nerve on your body screaming as your orgasm rolls over you. you're almost sure you're hurting him by how hard you tug at his hair, but alastor doesn't stop. the intensity is something you've not experienced in many, many years, and the tears stream down your cheeks. alastor coaxes you through it, licking slow and soft circles around your sensitive bud until your shaking stops.

he's quick to climb up, wiping the tears from your puffy eyes. "such a good girl, mon amour. there's plenty more where that came from."

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: A little angst

a/n: Okay this has taken over my brain. I hope you enjoy it!! You can read the previous little part here and part three here

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

“And what would happen then?” 

“I suppose then we would have to turn into giants, wouldn’t we?” 

“Giants. Really?” Melanie deadpanned as if she hadn’t just unraveled the most incoherent line of questioning you’d ever heard. Her new favorite game was “what if,” and you were apparently awful at it. 

“Well—” you began, pretending to think as you leaned against the counter and tapped your chin. “I guess we could just learn how to fly instead. That way we could go collect the, um… bunnies from the tops of the clouds.” 

“It’s cats, mommy, not bunnies. Why would a bunny be on a cloud?” 

“You are so right.” 

You pushed off the counter and continued restocking the shelves of the small apothecary that had employed you for the past few years. You had started out in Velaris working at a few small bars, but that hadn’t lasted long when they discovered you were pregnant. You had earned enough money to get a small apartment at that point, and you just so happened to find one above an apothecary owned by a rather wicked old woman. 

Lucky for you, she was a wicked old woman who no longer wanted to run her apothecary or deal with the space above it. So, you got a job and a place to live without many questions asked—a two-for-one miracle. 

“Maybe we could ask Nyx to take us up to the clouds,” Melanie pondered as she fiddled with a bundle of cloves by the register. 

“Who’s Nyx, sweetie?” you mindlessly asked. 

“A boy in my class. He has wings. He told me he can’t fly very high yet, but soon he’ll be able to.” 

You inhaled sharply through your nose. 

There were probably several boys in her class who had wings and were unrelated to the Illyrian man occupying your thoughts, right? 

You hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know, Melanie. Maybe Nyx could take you, but I might be too big for him to bring me up to the clouds.” 

“Oh, good idea, mommy! Nyx’s daddy can fly too and he can bring you. Or he has two uncles that could.” Your daughter stuck two fingers in the air with pride. “I wish I had wings. Mommy, did my daddy have wings?” 

You shook your head and abandoned the box at your feet to brush your daughter’s hair back instead. Going to school had opened doors to many questions you had been dreading, and Melanie’s questions about her dad had been coming in waves. 

“Your daddy didn’t have wings,” you began, looping a finger around her red curls. “But he did have hair just like yours.” 

Melanie tilted her head to the side. “Did you love my daddy? Nyx drew a picture at school of his mommy and daddy and said they love each other very much. Like as much as you love me.” 

You fought back a sigh. Nyx was causing you a plethora of issues and you hadn’t even met the kid. “Sometimes families look different,” you explained, running your hands down to brush off the dust on Melanie’s clothes that she’d surely obtained from playing in the apothecary. “I didn’t love your daddy, but that’s just because I had so much love saved up for you.” 

“Hmm…I hope you can have someone to love like how Nyx’s mommy has his daddy,” Melanie said after a small pause. And then she swung off the counter and started trekking up the stairs to the apartment as if she hadn’t just aged ten years with her statement. 

You blinked at the space she left, baffled by your five-year-old’s abruptness. She had only been at school for a week and was making revelations about your life that even you struggled to come to terms with. You let out a small sound of disbelief and made to follow your daughter up the stairs when the bell above the front door chimed. 

“Sorry, we’re closed for the—”

A boot heel clicking silenced your call.

His shadows came in before him, dark swirls instantly sweeping along the walls and wrapping up around the front counter. They didn’t touch you, but there was a hesitance about them that suggested they wanted to. You tore your gaze from their behavior to meet the eyes of the Illyrian from the school—the one you hadn’t seen since and definitely not because you were avoiding all situations where he could spot you. 

“Hello,” Azriel greeted with a calmness that was not reciprocated. “Are you closed? I can come back another time.” 

Every thought tumbled out of your brain. You had forgotten—almost—how intimidating he was. Not just in sheer size, but in the way he held himself, in the sharp planes of his face that smoothed into softness in the exact places they should. 

His wings pressed in towards his back as he took another step forward. The floor groaned beneath his weight. 

“Oh, um—” you uttered along with the straining floor. “We are—technically. But I can help you find something. Or place an order for you. No big deal.” 

“I wouldn’t want to keep you if you’re closed,” Azriel stressed. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you nervously laughed. Act more normal. Act like there’s nothing… abnormal about you. “Anything for someone from Melanie’s school. What are you looking for?” 

Azriel hummed, his eyes lightning. “Ah, so you do remember me. I was wondering.” 

Was he looking at you strangely? Azriel kept trailing his gaze around the room and letting it land on your face, evaluating you… profiling you? 

You were being ridiculous. 

“Of course I do. You gave me great intel on the teacher. I don’t come until the bell rings now.” You rocked back on your heels and shifted your fidgeting hands behind your back. “Was there something specific I could help you with?” 

Azriel ignored your question for the second time. “Is that why I haven’t seen you? You come later?” 

Was he looking for you? 

A strange combination of excitement and trepidation made your stomach drop. 

Another nervous laugh. Your palms were sweating. “I guess so. There’s a lot to be done here so I usually wait until the last minute to close up shop and pick her up. That’s why your tip was so helpful.” 

Azriel narrowed his eyes in a way that echoed concern, but you refused to read into it. You balanced up onto your toes and fell back onto the soles of your feet. 

You could tell he wanted to say more about something—to ask more questions unrelated to the apothecary. But he stopped himself and the restraint was clear in the tenseness of his shoulders. 

“I get headaches,” Azriel shared. “Awful ones. I’ve tried healing magic and a few medicinal remedies, but I was hoping to find something herbal. Could you help me with that?” 

You breathed a sigh of relief and began rifling through a cabinet to your left. “I may have just the thing. I had terrible migraines when I was pregnant and it took me six tries to get this recipe perfect, but I think it would do the trick for you. I almost hate to share it because I was the one that had to suffer through all the bad batches, but I guess that’s kind of my job.” 

You pulled back from the cabinet with a small bottle in hand, a tiny rendition of your handwriting scrawled along the side. You rolled it in your hands for a moment until you saw the shimmering nature of the liquid inside, and then you held it out over the counter and offered Azriel a smile. He replicated it, but it was smaller and looked forced. 

“You didn’t have anyone else to try it out on?” he asked. 

The question twisted something deep within your chest, but you only grinned and ignored the tightness of your jaw. “Who better than the one with the migraines herself?” 

Azriel breathed a laugh through his nose, his eyes not leaving yours. “I suppose that’s true.” 

The flecks in his eyes had you paralyzed, unable to move as his gaze held yours. You were breathless, fist tightening around the small tonic still held out in front of you as Azriel reached forward and grabbed it. His skin brushed yours. You shivered. 

Azriel’s lips parted to speak. “Where are you—”

A loud thump from upstairs cut him off. 

Azriel started, his chin clipping up and his body tensing. He quickly looked back down to you with a panicked question in his eyes. 

You fought for the words to say. If you revealed it was only Melanie, he would know where you lived—another piece of information you liked to keep close. But if you didn’t tell him, that could lead to something worse. He looked about ready to bolt up the stairs and battle your five-year-old. 

The decision was made for you when Melanie came bounding down the steps with a bowl in one hand and a large wooden spoon in the other. 

“Mommy,” she began with a lax posture that did not match the room. “Can I—Oh, hi, Mr. Azriel. What’re you doing at my house?” 

Melanie’s interpretation of his name included an extra syllable, and she was still working on pronouncing Zs, but the Illyrian ignored that. “Your house?” he asked. His attention was fully on Melanie, but he sent you a raised brow. 

“Um, yes. We live above the apothecary. Melanie sometimes forgets that it’s a business downstairs and not just a private playground,” you explained, rubbing your forearm in discomfort. Azriel tracked the movement. 

“Ah, well, it does seem rather fun down here. I can see the confusion.” 

Melanie perked up, waving the spoon in front of your face. “See, mommy? There’s lots to play with.” 

One of the tightly bound coils in your chest loosened as you shot Azriel a look. “Great. You’re encouraging her.” 

“I’ve been an uncle for a few years,” Azriel smiled, rolling the headache tonic between his hands. “I’ve gotten quite good at encouraging terrible things.” 

You laughed with a huff and placed a hand on Melanie’s head, bending down to meet her gaze. “Were you going to ask me for dinner? I’ll be up in just a few minutes. I was just putting a few things away.” 

“I know, mommy,” she nodded. Then, after a quick look at Azriel from the corner of her eye, she whispered, “Is Mr. Azriel having dinner with us? Nyx has been asking about when we have dinner and said to keep the question a secret, but maybe that’s why he’s here.” 

A few feelings barraged you at once. Confusion over your daughter's words; fear that the night court’s inner circle seemed to be asking questions about you; regret that you had given into Melanie’s pleas to go to school so readily. 

But Nyx was just a child—perhaps he asked everyone when they had dinner and Melanie was just connecting dots that weren’t there. 

But maybe that wasn’t the case. 

Maybe Azriel came to the apothecary specifically because you worked there and he was trying to gather intel for the Autumn Court. It had to be common knowledge that the daughter of one of Beron’s men had run away. But Night and Autumn weren’t on the best terms. That’s why you chose Velaris to—

You couldn’t do this right now. 

Not in front of Melanie and certainly not in front of Azriel. 

You pressed your lips into a firm line and whispered back, “No, he came to buy something from mommy’s shop. It’s just us for dinner, like always.” 

A sliver of disappointment fractured Melanie’s gaze. She hooked her chin over her shoulder and sent Azriel a small smile before disappearing into the apartment once more. You wiped your palms on the front of your pants as you stood, taking a breath to calm your raging anxiety. 

“Sorry, she…” 

“It’s alright,” Azriel dismissed. You looked at him for the first time in a few moments, his expression pinched and difficult to read. “I’m around Nyx a lot. You don’t have to apologize.” 

A beat of silence. 

The room was cloaked in unrealized tension. You weren’t sure if it was fueled by suspicion or something else. For you, it was, but the wistful way Azriel continued to linger on your figure was read as something else. Something older, more entrenched.

“It’s just two coppers.” You broke the silence, gesturing to the tonic still held between Azriel’s fingers—his scarred fingers, you then realized. You looked back up to his face.

“Only two? After all it took for you to make it?” 

You felt your mouth twist at the corner despite yourself. “I don’t know if you’ve seen this place, but it’s not exactly up to par with the rest of the apothecaries. I’m surprised you found it, to be honest. My customers are typically ancient fae with boils and warts.” 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Azriel teased. He searched through his pocket and placed a small sum of money on the counter between you. “Five coppers—for interrupting dinner.” 

“I hadn’t even—” 

“Goodbye, y/n.” 

You watched him go, not noticing the shadow that lingered in the corner. 

part three

[sectumsempraaa]

More Than a Gut Feeling

Pairing: soulmate!Theo Nott x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Based on this request! :)

TW: none, just unlawful amounts of fluff

Featuring: Theo, Draco, Mattheo, Pansy, Lorenzo, Blaise

Summary: Transferring schools in your fifth year is overwhelming enough. But when you find yourself seemingly tethered to a Slytherin boy, you start to wonder… Did you come to Hogwarts by choice? Or did someone lead you here?

“And there was fog, and dust, and all I could see was this hand reaching out for me-”

“Bloody hell Theo, please, we get it. You smoked before bed and had trippy dreams,” Pansy complains, cutting him off from his hazy explanation. She turns to you and rolls her eyes, expressing her disdain.

It’s a typical Monday breakfast in the Great Hall for the Slytherin lads, except they have you now. They’ve recently (and graciously) taken you under their wing after you transferred schools in your fifth year.

Though you’re still adjusting to your surroundings at Hogwarts, your new friends have made the transition easier.

“I didn’t smoke before bed, bastardo,” he replies, lunging slightly towards her in annoyance.

Your eyes linger on Theo for a moment, his dream piquing your interest for some reason. There’s something about it that feels… familiar.

But you shake it off as deja vu in order to move past it. The last thing you want right now is to stand out amongst your new peers.

It’s only been a week since you arrived, but the connection you have with Theodore is unlike the others, and they are starting to notice.

Like when you first met, and the both of you were each holding a hardcover copy of your mutual favorite poetry book.

And a couple days later, when you turned your head to greet him as he was several yards behind you in the hallway, before he even called your name.

And yesterday, when you watched him win the first quidditch match you’d seen because the golden snitch hovered over you the entire time.

“I wish I could remember my dreams like that,” you respond, adding a touch of understanding to the conversation.

Theo’s head turns in the direction of your soft voice, like his gaze is attached to it somehow.

Blaise looks between the two of you, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

Suddenly and smoothly, Mattheo nudges you with his elbow and leans in close to your ear.

“If you dreamt of me, you would.” He smirks, laughing to himself and earning a light smack on the chest from Lorenzo. You notice Theo’s expression turn a smidge darker, something new looming in his eyes.

Lorenzo comments. “You really do ruin everything. You’re like, the king of ruining everything.”

Draco scoffs at Mattheo’s quip and places his hands on the table to signify that it’s time to leave for class. “Come on, Mattheo. Let’s not traumatize the new girl.”

Draco throws an apologetic glance your way.

“Please don’t listen to this child.” He spits out the last few words with haste.

When you look at Theo, you find him still staring at you with a hint of wonder and confusion.

You blush, feeling the crimson warmth spreading from one cheek to another. You reach down to grab your bag and make your way to potions class with the rest of the group.

—

Today’s lesson is, surprisingly, something you’ve already learned at your previous school. And thank the gods, because something about Theo’s dream has your attention caught like a fly in a web.

You imagine his vision, the fog and the reaching. You look down to your own hand, your brows furrowing as you continue to rack your brain. The longer you look at your hand, the more convinced you are that…

No. You just met him a week ago… there’s no way.

But that’s not it. It’s the other dreams he’s mentioned in the past few days, too. One where he’s at Durmstrang looking for someone, another where he’s trying to find them on the Hogwarts Express, but he doesn’t know who he’s following.

Who he’s looking for.

You can’t help but compare them to your own dreams, strikingly, eerily similar.

You recount images of them, scouring through empty train cabins and following the sound of alluring footsteps in your former school.

A tug on your ponytail pulls you out of your distraction, the slight pain guiding your stare. A sea of giggles spreads through the class as you watch Professor Snape’s hand return to his side.

“Miss Y/L/N, I suspect you were the potions teacher at Durmstrang with the way you ignore my curriculum.” Snape retorts, his stern voice closer than you were expecting.

But one particular laugh catches your ears, the corners of your mouth turning up at the sound of it. Your eyes land on Theo, and something about his expression makes your heart skip a beat.

“Tsk tsk, bella,” He whispers, and you bite your lip in response, turning back to your textbook as that damn blush creeps back onto your face.

There’s no denying how unfathomably handsome this man is when he smiles at you, because of you.

Your desk partner, Draco, looks to Theo and then back to you in bewilderment.

“I can never get him to joke around like that,” He says to you. “I’ll be damned if he fancies you more than me already.”

You smile back to Draco, returning the playful demeanor. “Oh, I bet he just adores you.” You respond loud enough so Theo can hear behind you.

You don’t have to turn around to see the bashful smirk on Theo’s face.

—

That night, you toss and turn more than usual. A wild dream keeps you trapped in slumber, unable to relinquish you from it until your roommate, Pansy, physically shakes you awake.

“I’m right here, you oaf!” Pansy yells, her hands squeezing your shoulders as you urgently sit up in bed.

“What? What are you doing? Why are you yelling?” You ask, genuinely lost. The beads of sweat trickle down your temple.

“You don’t remember just now when you were asking ‘Where are you?’ a thousand times in your own sleep?” She responds, her eyes widening with each word.

And then it hits you, the images of your dream. That laugh, a gentle breeze, and a-

“Paper crane?” Pansy asks, looking down into your lap with eyes like headlights.

You slowly look down, afraid to reveal to yourself what lays in your grasp. In your palm is a small, crumpled paper crane. Your baffled stare freaks her out, her hands retracting from your sides.

“What the filthy fuck is that?!” Pansy yells, but her voice sounds quite distant to you as you try desperately to get a hold on reality.

But you know. You know what this is, and you know how you got it. Accepting this fact is like swallowing glass.

“I brought something out of my dream,” you whisper, your breath picking up in pace and weight. The thought is sending you reeling, your brain suddenly racing yet devoid at the same time, unwilling to connect the dots.

“How is this even possible?” You ask yourself.

Pansy continues rambling on, asking you endless questions.

But you can’t seem to shake the idea that this item didn’t exist before you fell asleep last night.

—

After long deliberation, and a real pull back to reality, you manage to get yourself dressed and out the door. But the mental picture of this thing takes up most of the space in your mind that day, haunting you each time you think of it.

It’s not until Divination class, your last period, that things somehow become even more unsettling.

Professor Trelawney begins a lesson about the influence of dreams in real life and the messages they can send to the dreamer.

“Dreams, they can be so powerful. They can point you in specific directions, impact your decisions, make you see the truth.”

Her shakey, ominous voice echoes through your head, her words bouncing off the walls of your skull as you feel around in your pocket for the mysterious object. When you feel the edges of the paper graze your skin, you gently pull it out and place it on the corner of your desk.

From the table over, Theo absentmindedly observes you, your movement guiding his trailing eyes. He sees the object in front of you, but it takes him a second to register what it is, that curious little thing.

He squints, then performs a stunning double take. And when he’s finally able to identify it…

Everything changes.

“Oh… my… god…” Theo whispers, his heart dropping into his stomach like an anchor. His body goes into a state of utter disbelief and stillness. His eyes piercing white and his face ghostly pale as he struggles to grasp the scene in front of him.

Mattheo notices Theo’s knuckles white against the desk and chimes in to check on his friend.

“Mate, you alright? You look like Enzo after a Friday night at the Three–”

But before Mattheo can finish asking, Theo suddenly stands up and gains the attention of everyone in class by the sound of his bench skidding backwards on the floor.

Professor Trelawney’s gaze shifts from Theo to you as she locates the focus point of his unrelenting stare. She offers to take him to the infirmary as he looks “unwell.”

But Theo shakes his head, places his hand over his heart, and silently dashes out of the classroom.

Pansy’s head slowly turns to you with a look of complete perplexity.

“Better go check on Rome, new girl,” she mutters under her breath, referencing Theo’s hometown. She gestures her head in the direction of the door.

You nod hesitantly, soon following in his footsteps and ignoring any questions from your teacher.

—

When you make it to the hallway, you find Theo pacing back and forth, his hand still placed over his heart as if to stop it from exploding. But when he sees you, it only gets more difficult.

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off before you can even inhale.

“Where in seven hells did you get that paper crane?!” He asks, stopping in his tracks. The conversation continues in bouts of interrupting each other.

“Theodore, I-”

“Don’t call me that, that’s not what you call me in-”

“In what?”

“In my-”

Then a pause. A tense, incredible pause. A stare down.

He continues. “Nothing, it’s mind numbingly mad,”

You take a step towards him, but something in your chest suddenly becomes achingly heavy. In response, you place a hand over your heart, just like Theo is.

In your free hand, you unfold your fingers to reveal the paper crane. His eyes land on it, the shock of it still trapping every fiber of his being.

“You…” you start, the weight in your chest transforms from a brick to a block of anvil with each word.

When you’re within arms length of each other, he manages to reach out, the struggle evident on his face. He fights to finish your sentence for you.

“Made this. Gave this… to you, last night.” He explains, his voice dragging as you notice his hand now gripping his shirt in a fist from the sheer pain in his chest.

“Theo… I think we aren’t dreaming of each other,” you suggest, taking time to breathe between thoughts. The weight on your heart is now seemingly unbearable.

“We’re dreaming with each other,” you say, and just as you finish the thought, Theo’s fingers touch the paper crane in your hand, a graze that feels like lightning.

And just then, as the object fuses the touch of two destined souls, a small clad of thunder emits from between you that only you two can hear. The pains in your chests implode, a knee-dropping sensation of light and warmth replacing it.

Like dynamite in your hearts.

“Bella,” Theo’s hoarse voice is laced with a sincerity that sounds like liquid gold to your ears. There’s no way to describe the feeling inside you right now, this fantastic blend of energies and desires.

The only thing you do know is that it’s burning at both ends, like a charring rope.

“I think… I was meant to find you, cara mia. Gods I sound mental,” he shakes his head, embarrassment written all over his face. To his surprise, he finds your hand gently caressing his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours.

“Then maybe we both need to visit the infirmary, because I’ve only just arrived here and for some reason I can’t fathom a minute away from you.”

Relief washes over him as he drinks in your words, and the stunning sight of you confessing the very same sentiment he, too, harbors.

Your heart rate quickens as you feel an arm snake around your lower back, out of your line of sight. This feels strangely comfortable, like you’ve felt it for a lifetime already.

“Y/N…” he beckons, his forehead dropping to rest on yours. “I can’t ask you to be mine, because I think someone, or something, else already decided that.” He jokes, the huff from his laugh hitting your face.

The sight of both your smiles is what shifts everything into place. Everything, all at once. And then, your fists are the ones gripping his shirt, pulling his lips onto yours.

The paper crane falls to the ground between you as your lips move against each other, his hands exploring your back like they’re hunting for treasure. The magnitude of this kiss surpasses any other you’ve shared in the past.

Chills run up and down your body, like it’s finally found its home. Its match. His fingers grasp your hair lightly, keeping you in place as he kisses you with vigor.

He pulls away, looking at you like you’re his most prized possession.

“You’re more than a gut feeling, tesoro.” He confesses, earning another kiss from you. This one feels like an aftershock, the aftermath of the impact of your newfound, yet momentous intimacy.

You nod your head in understanding, barely able to form a coherent sentence at the moment.

“Did you… feel that, Theo?” You question, sending a glimmer of hope his way.

“Yes, like… fireworks?” He asks back. He takes your hand and places it on his chest once again, and you swear you could feel the butterflies erupting from inside.

Behind you, a mess of rushed footsteps make their entrance, accompanied by a couple of stern voices.

“These two, I swear…” Blaise complains, shaking his head and catching his breath.

“What in the Merlin-loving fuck is going on here?” Lorenzo sneers, his expression a mix of urgency and frustration.

But you two never broke that stare, that ruthless, solid stare. Instead you beam at each other as you scramble to put the answer into words.

“Fireworks.”

—

That night, you wander the grounds of Hogwarts together as Mattheo, Draco, and Pansy watch you from the Astronomy Tower. The three of them convene to discuss.

“You reckon she used a love potion?” Mattheo suggests, earning another smack on the arm.

“No, you bloody fool. They’re like, tethered or something.” She attempts to convey the notion to the boys, but they just don’t get it.

“Are we tethered then, doll?” Draco jokingly asks Pansy.

“In your dreams, mate.” Mattheo responds, taking a drag from his cigarette. She responds while picturing the paper crane she found in your lap that one fated morning last week.

“You’d be surprised how accurate that is.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[atyourmerci]

Gold wing, angel

meanloser!ellie X classpresident!r

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!ellie, sub!reader, v angsty, slight bondage, cunt slapping, fingering, cunnilingus, edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, lite angel symbolism, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: actually surprised I finished a req (you all applaud me) this is inspired by “GOLDWING” by billie.

Ellie was a sick drug. Something not to be desired. She was the epitome of the allure of indulging in something you shouldn’t have, shouldn’t know, try at very least.

How did she get this way- who made her like this? Anger taken out through bodies of admission in an act of revenge. Taking back what was taken from her. Her pride regained by your submission.

You could have never fathomed the aggression the loser from AP American literature could obtain. You thought she’d beg on her knees for you. Worship your every move, starstruck by even getting the chance to touch you.

But she didn’t. She reveled in taking you off your high horse, got off on watching the student body president, proper and witty, utterly depraved by getting her cunt abused by a fucking moron.

-

98- A fucking 98, you did not deserve a 98 on the midterm paper. Your work was frankly sloppy, lacked comprehension. It made you ill knowing you were turning in something so lackluster with your name slapped across the front so proudly. The only thing that made you sicker was the thought of receiving special treatment- you had an image to uphold. You got to your position in this society from your own intellect, blood, sweat, tears and all. Kissing ass for a fucking 98 wasn’t in the cards.

The class began filing out as usual, like wild animals in a pack, shiny white teeth like daggers. Meshing together in their navy steam-pressed blazers, hair like defining fur, the only indication of individuality.

Except for her, sticking out like a sore thumb, the great big elephant in the room. Breaking many rulebook codes with her black nail polish, unkept hair to the standard policy, her white polo unbuttoned at the top two buttons that revealed her freckled chest. Despite her all around degenerate persona, she was irritatingly smart. Maybe if she had an ounce of charm she’d take your place.

With the rest of the class out of sight she stares at you. Not cutting off eye contact you both rise from your chairs you practically run to Mr. Stevens desk. The slap of two papers hit his desk, a 98 and a 90 shining in red sharpie ink on the white papers.

“I don’t deserve this,” comes out in unison, the sincerity in your voice cut open by the harshness in Ellies.

“Please one at a time, ladies.”

Before the words can even escape your lips Ellie rages, “I worked my ass off on this. I deserve better than a 90,” she spits out. “I know you can do better than this Ms.Williams, I expect more from you.” Ellie scoffs back at him, “this is bullshit,” she muffles but continues standing at his desk.

Mr.Stevens nods his head in your direction for your speech, you glance at Ellie with her arms now crossed, awaiting your protest. You brush off her insistence on staying and begin, “Mr.Stevens, I appreciate your grading and understanding my agenda for the midterm, but objectively this is sub-pare work. I think you may have given me someone else’s grade… maybe you mixed up my grade with Ms.Williams.”

He doesn’t skip a beat, “I don’t mix up grades, you earned it. Now if you two will excuse me,” Mr.Stevens directs you both to the now empty hallway.

Ellie storms out with rage, cheeks flushed and lips pressed closely, you follow behind. “‘ms Williams’? the fuck was that?” Ellie presses in a scowl, words echoed in a bare hallway.

“Look I read your paper, I think you deserved better,” you retort in an attempt to soothe her. You cant seem to keep your eyes off her cupids bow, the contrast of soft pink lips against her tired skin.

“Oh thats fucking rich coming from ‘ms I don’t deserve my grade’ you’re pathetic,” she points, eyes thinning.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch more people would like you,” you attempt, heat rising in your own cheeks, heart thumping roughly in your chest.

Ellies cruel disposition contorts into a grin, inching closer to your body, “you’re fucking him aren’t you? Ms. perfect sucking off the teach so she can stay on top?”

A power so foreign comes before you, using force to push your wrist into her chest, though she doesn’t budge, “shut up.”

She returns your aggression, pushing your bodies flesh up against the brick wall behind you, ripping the breath from your lungs. Your hands instinctively grip into her shirt. Her eyes are wild, as if she was surprised she’d taken it this far, or rather puzzled by the fact you haven’t broken your grasp.

You both pant from the intrusion, glaring, waiting- waiting for someone to cave.

Like a dog on a leash you dragged her in, pulling her by her fabric until her lips met your own. A depraved act, met with open mouths and wandering tongues. Hatred in its finest form, digging into her as if you’d ever thought of it. A subconscious desire pulled from the depths of your cravings.

Before true indulgence she pushes you off, taking a moment to look at your hazy disposition, drunk on delinquency, “don’t ever do that again,” she pants out. Taking her thumb she wipes the saliva from your bottom lip and takes off without your response.

-

Time after time you went back. You told yourself you’d stop, never talk to her again. Yet there the keys were in the ignition, a path that you knew like the back of your hand. Leading, controlling your own fate of defacement.

“Can you please just open the door,” you plead on her doorsteps, mind and body corrupted- to only be pleased by the mental games, the destruction in forms of submitting to her.

Strung up like an old doll long forgotten in the attic, bound wrist behind your back and ankles tied to the head of her bed, vulnerable and needy.

“What now? Use your fucking words,” Ellie remarks before spitting on your neglected cunt. Your body winces at the sensation of the hot liquid dripping down the pulsing flesh, “please I promise I’ll do whatever you ask.”

She hovers over your squirming body, carful to not give you the satisfaction. Gripping your jaw in her hand, “do you ever pay attention to what I tell you? You don’t deserve to come,” cocking her free hand back to lay a purposeful slap to your slick folds causing you to scream out from the blissful pain.

She lays another one into the already beat red skin, a cruel grin growing on her lips as she hears you enjoying it. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” she asks glaring at your tucked in lip, eyes glossy. You nod back at her, signaling your approval for using your body as her personal vessel.

Somehow it was good enough for her, dropping down to your perked nipples and sucking it into her teeth as she uses her hand to cover your eyes. You’d learn very early on that you weren’t allowed to watch her use her mouth on you. In the odd occasion she’d let you have your cunt in her mouth shed have your face shoved in the sheets while she took you from behind. She never told you why- and you didn’t dare ask.

Your wrist wriggle behind your back as your chest arches into her mouth, hot and wet. You obsess over what it would feel like on your mouth again, most nights were spent only thinking of her mouth- foreign, an impenetrable fortress. You began to chase the chance of the feeling her again.

You feel as her mouth comes off of the swollen bud as she removes the hand on your eyes, “don’t look,” she says with no threat in her tone, but you don’t risk crossing her.

You shut your exhausted eyes, dropping your head back as you feel her wrap her arms around the meat of your thighs. She drags an antagonizing strip up your slit, jolting your body into the mouth.

She goes as slow as possible, providing as little pressure she can muster up to the swell of your clit, but from her slaps it wouldn’t take much. Your body akin to a fish gasping for air out of water, squirming under her touch. She digs her fingers deep into the flesh as a warning.

“If you ever want to come again Id advise you behave.”

“P-please,” you plead to her, legs shaking as you whimper her name over and over like a prayer.

“I said no, i swear to god I’ll ruin every fucking orgasm,” sliding her two fingers into your clenching hole she drives slow pumps as she returns her mouth to your clit.

Your face contorts in concentration, attempting to hold yourself back but you could only be held off for so long.

“Ellie- Ellie!” bursting at the seams, your body detesting her rules, letting the hot white cum coat her fingers. She only fucks you harder, faster through your orgasm. This is a game you weren’t to win, rather to allow herself to revel in your pain. She got off on destroying your mind, making it to where you can only be pleased by her punishment.

Ellie kept her word, working you up on the edge of finishing and stopping completely, laughing at your pathetic state, crying and begging to come.

Clipping your wings, she hung them on her walls as a trophy. Pleas echoing her room, come splattering her sheets, your lips chapped and neglected.

[transbookoftheday]

She Who Earned Her Wings by Vaela Denarr & Micah Iannandrea

One does not learn to fly without taking a leap. And one has to fall to be caught.

Nomi is a young druid finally taking the chance to spread her wings and leave her home. To see the world and discover its magic, beauty… and maybe love. Calia is a dragon on the hunt for angels, trying to square an old debt. That, and to get Laura, her desired bondmate, to finally return to her side, where she belongs.

Nomi immediately catches the eye of the powerful dragons. Calia entices her with honeyed words and a skillful tongue. On the other hand, Laura, much smaller but equally intimidating, takes it upon herself to protect her.

Despite the warnings, Nomi can’t help being drawn to Calia's charm, her power, her fangs… and the hidden gentleness in her eyes. She promises danger where Laura promises safety, and Nomi is torn between the two. Luckily there is a convenient cult out for the dragons’ heads, providing Nomi with ample distraction and at least one dragon egg to steal, hatch, and raise by herself. Perfectly normal things for a young transgender druid to get involved in!

In the clutches of dragons, battling dark forces from beyond the stars, Nomi faces the questions of who she is and who she wants to be. Whether she deserves the love offered to her, and what it truly takes to earn her wings...

[dream-with-a-fever]

ron weasley did not

come to privet drive to rescue harry from his abusive home after he hadn’t been replying to any of his letters and he was worried

almost back out of following the spiders bc they’re his biggest fear, but upon seeing hermione’s empty seat at dinner, find the courage to go

defend hermione from any and everyone who called her a mudblood

constantly worry about hermione’s workload (especially in 3rd year) and notice that whenever she disappeared

offer to teach hermione his entire family tree so that she could pretend to be pure blood to keep her safe from death eaters

defend harry to everyone (percy, seamus, half the school) when everyone thought he was lying about voldemort’s return

stand up on his broken leg in front of harry and say that “if you want to kill harry, you’ll have to kill us first!” to what they believed to be a raving lunatic mass murderer

gift dobby his newest weasley jumper and the new socks he got given for christmas

stand up against snape when he was bullying hermione (and got a detention as a result)

beg the deatheaters who were torturing hermione to “leave her alone!! take [him], have [him] instead!”

always check up on his friends when he notices something is up, even if it’s in subtle ways

immediately befriend harry on the train in ps and teach him about the wizarding world

write to charlie immediately so he could help hagrid out of trouble (re the dragon, norbert)

encourage neville to stand up to people, and praise him when he actually does it

help harry put on his pajamas after he broke his arm during quidditch

have to be physically restrained from attacking malfoy after he said he wished hermione had died in cos

worry about harry’s preoccupation with the mirror of erised and how it was affecting him

remind hermione to eat her meals and get a good night’s sleep when she’s studying 24/7 for their owl exams

display acute levels of emotional intelligence in the way he interacts with harry and hermione, essentially being the glue that keeps them all together

get splinched almost in half, lose blood and suffer agonising pain but seem more worried about the cattermoles and whether or not they were okay

realise his mistakes & own up to them, acknowledging his role in certain falling outs (especially in deathly hallows)

be genuinely hilarious and fun, and lighten the load in everyone else’s’ lives with the humour he brings to

write to his mother in ps asking her to give harry presents too because he doesn’t think he’ll received any

go to the department of mysteries to help harry without a second a thought

go on the run with harry to hunt for horcruxes without a second thought

run to hermione’s aid when malfoy hits her with a nasty hex outside snape’s classroom and take her to the hospital wing

help hermione with buckbeak’s appeal, spending hours upon hours reading up on the case

extend the first olive branch after fighting with hermione because of scabber’s “death” and apologising, after which she then apologises too

demand to re-try out for the position of keeper on the quidditch team because he wanted to earn it himself with no favouritism or help

choose to stay on the quidditch team despite the bullying from the slytherin team and his nerves about his flying ability

stand up to malfoy at every opportunity, when he was insulting him, but more importantly, insulting his family & his friends

save harry’s life in dh by pulling him out of the lake, and then kill the horcrux

remember the houseelves during the battle of hogwarts and worry about their safety

continue to admire and adore his older twin brothers despite the fact that they were sometimes cruel to him

become almost annoyingly protective of his little sister (ESPECIALLY after the diary situation)

single-handedly out smart and escape five armed and deadly snatchers

try his best to overcome his insecurities and feelings of being overlooked, in order to support the people around him

sacrifice himself without a second thought during the chess game in ps because he knew harry’s survival was more important than his

for y’all to speak on him the way you do. calling him cruel, evil, selfish etc??? open your fucking eyes

[talesof-old]

handle it | a.s., h.l.r., g.c.

pairing(s): poly!batboys x fem!eader

warning(s): 18+, smut, couples arguing, teasing, piv sex, handjobs (f receiving), oral (m receiving), reader has a vagina and is referred to by her/she, reader is called pretty girl, men being annoying and protective/possessive, if you squint there’s wing play, i did not proofread or edit because for some reason this put me in a slump, i think that’s all

word count: 1.7k

a/n: sorry this took me so long i was strugglinggg so it does end kind of abruptly

masterlist

poly!batboys + smut, angst + happy ending

“For the last time, you will not tell me I can’t go.”

Azriel barked a hoarse, humorless laugh, his eyes cold as he looked down at you. Gone were the days of training at Windhaven, children playing war as the world fell apart. No, now Rhys was High Lord, and you were a long way from the mountains you once called home.

“I’m in charge of this mission. What I say goes. And you are not going.”

Throwing your arms up in exasperation, you catch a glimpse of Cassian’s amused expression and Rhysand’s impassive face. They knew better than to get between the two of you. Azriel’s barely contained rage that settled just beneath his skin could burn hot at any given moment, and you were a formidable opponent that even your battle seasoned superiors knew better than to rile.

“You’re staying here.”

You whirled around, face nearly coming into contact with Azriel’s hard chest. Your wings flared.

“Rhys has the final say. I’m going.”

Violet eyes flickered between the two of you, one side of his lips quirking up in a smirk as Rhys shrugged. Anger flared in your chest. There was no reason for him not to side with you. You’d proven yourself over and over again, earned your place just as much as they had. It wasn’t fair.

“Rhys, I swear on the Mother-“ Rhys shook his head, silencing Azriel as he moved. Cassian followed after him, both quick to leave you two alone.

“Figure this out between you. We’re not getting involved.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched as the door shut behind them; the silence that followed was deafening. His shadows darted out and away from him, only to return to curl around his body like they couldn’t decide whether to comfort you or their master. It would’ve been comical, really, if Azriel’s sharp eyes weren’t burning holes into your forehead. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” Azriel didn’t say a word as you walked out the room.

Dinner was not a pleasant affair. Mor picked up on the tension between the shadowsinger and you with a simple glance, and it seemed to only agitate you further. Territorial fae bastards, the lot of them.

“We still set for that shopping trip on Saturday?” Mor’s honey voice filled your ears and you allowed yourself to smile. At the end of the table, Azriel sat stiff as a board, barely touching the food on his plate.

“Of course, I still need something for Dawn’s ball.”

She nodded, sipping her wine as she contemplated. You raised a brow. There was something mischievous in her eyes as she spoke next.

“I hear Caius was asking after you.” Shadows exploded across the room, darting out to weave through your hair and urge you towards their source. You narrowed your eyes at Mor who simply threw her head back and laughed. Amren scoffed over her glass.

“Az.” At Rhys’ firm tone, the shadows were reeled back in, and light filled the room once more.

“We’re leaving. I’ll keep you both updated.” A warm hand clasped yours and then all of a sudden you were in Rhys’ bedroom, perched on the edge of his bed. You turned to the partner in question.

What the fuck?

Rhys chuckled in your mind.

I thought you two would’ve sorted this out.

You rolled your eyes at that, turning to flop onto the bed, wings draped over your body. Rhys rested a hand on your lower back, shivers crawling up your spine as he massaged your tailbone.

He’s a possessive prick.

Rhys laughed out loud this time, trailing his hand over your backside. You preened under his touch, twisting to stretch out like a cat and smiling over at him softly. A grunt sounded from behind you. Rhys glanced over, sending an image to you.

Cassian and Azriel (the former having already removed half of his clothes), lip locked and tugging hard at each other’s bodies. Heat pooled in between your thighs and you turned to raise a brow at your companion. He smirked. In a blink, he was hovering over your body, chest pressed against your left side. You tilted your head upwards, pressing your lips against his. He moved slowly, pressing you down as he swiped a tongue over your lips. Rhys’ palm moved to cup your arse, rubbing your clothed cunt against the bulge in his pants. You sighed as you melted into his touch.

A broken moan drew you away from your High Lord.

You turned your head, pupils blown wide with lust as Cassian manhandled Azriel, tugging at his short hair and biting the exposed skin of his neck. Rhys laid back, hauling you up to rest on top of him. He helped you straddle him.

Someone hit the wall behind you, choking on a groan. You grinned as Rhys pulled you into him, licking a stripe up your throat.

“You’re both fully capable of resolving your issues, hm? Isn’t that what you said the last time?” You let out a long suffering sigh and gripped Rhysand’s hair.

“Don’t be a dick.”

He trailed light fingers up your sides, the sensation dulled by the fabrics covering your skin. Teasing touches turned rough as you rolled your hips. You smiled sweetly.

Behind you, the bed dipped as your two lovers joined you.

Cassian’s rough hands gripped your hips, careful of the wings you now arched high. Azriel settled against the pillows next to Rhysand, watching you with half-lidded, dark eyes. You maintained eye contact with the shadowsinger, grabbing Cassian’s hand and slipping it into your loose fitted pants. He cupped your mound, urging you to grind against his palm. You did so, head falling back as the roughness of his skin dragged against your lips and clit. He let you use him, your chest heaving as you rode yourself to climax. Your legs shook, upheld only by Rhys’ hands.

Rhysand took to leaning forward and nipping at the skin of your sensitive neck. He grinned as you keened, cunt clenching onto nothing as you tumbled over the edge. You fell against Cassian as your blood rushed through your ears. He chuckled, ignoring the way you jolted when your wings made contact with his frame.

Your body trembled following your orgasm, blissfully warm but not entirely relaxed. Azriel grunted as Rhys cupped his bulge. Your eyes flashed to his, annoyance still eating at your gut.

“Come on, pretty girl. Don’t be like that.” Cassian mouthed at the juncture of your neck and shoulders, sucking hard. You moaned softly, writhing against him as he massaged your breasts.

“Lovely, isn’t she?” Rhysand’s low voice sounded from beside Azriel. He huffed, abdomen muscles tense as the High Lord slipped a hand into his trousers. He pumped his cock, running a gentle hand over his slit and laughing when he hissed.

“You managed to piss her off pretty bad. Wonder what you’ll have to do to make it up.” Heat rushed to Azriel’s face. You watched with rapt attention, eyelashes fluttering as Cassian stripped you of your top to expose your breasts. You shivered at the sudden chill.

“Will she let you touch her?”

Azriel clenched his hands into fists, all but tucking them underneath his thighs. You giggled. Looks like he wanted to be tested tonight.

“Rhys.” You purred.

He whipped his head towards you at the sound of your voice, his name dripping with lust. You wriggled your ass against Cassian’s dick and tugged on Rhysand’s shirt.

He was on you in an instant, mouth hot against yours as Cassian pulled down your trousers and underwear. He was quick to line himself up your cunt and slowly sink in, leaning forward to press kisses to your upper back as you moaned. Rhys swallowed the sounds all too willingly.

As Cassian bottomed out, Rhys tugged down his own pants, situating himself right by your mouth. You lowered yourself onto your elbows, a soft whine leaving you as the angle changed how deep Cassian was within you. Rhysand grabbed a handful of your hair and guided your mouth to his cock. He grunted when your lips wrapped around the reddening skin.

Cassian pulled half-way out of you, giving an experimental thrust. Your eyes fluttered shut. He was slow with it, setting a lazy pace to keep you from climaxing too soon. You shivered as one of his hands grazed the inner part of your wings. Molten heat burned between your hips.

With a practiced tongue and a few well timed sucks, Rhys was pulsing in your mouth, balls drawn tight. His head was thrown back, moans tumbling from his lips in a way that would’ve had you grinning. Cassian kept his sensual pace.

You hollowed out your cheeks, gagging as Rhysand’s cock hit the back of your throat. He choked on a moan, halfway through cooing at the tears on your cheeks when his orgasm tore through him. He shook; beside him, Azriel trembled with need.

You swallowed his cum greedily, humming. Rhys jerked. You pulled off of him with a pop, grinning like a madman.

“Wicked thing.”

You shrugged, arching your back to meet Cassian’s thrusts. One of his large hands splayed across the bottom of your curved spine, the other coming around your waist to toy with your clit. You spasmed against him.

A low chuckle sounded through the room.

“Be careful tonight, we’ve all got a mission tomorrow.” Even in the midst of your pleasure, your head jerked towards Azriel. He wore an expression half resigned, half lustful. You reached for him with one hand, balancing on your right, fingers trembling. A moment ticked by. He moved, graceful as a panther, and tugged you to him. Cassian groaned as you involuntarily clenched around him. He pulled out of you, letting you splay across the shadowsinger’s front.

“You’re really giving in?”

Azriel’s sigh was answer enough, but he responded with a simple, “Yes.”

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his chin. The ache between your thighs was desperate for attention, however, so you moved to straddle his hips.

Much to the displeasure of your two other lovers, the words “You’re mine for the rest of the night,” were what left your mouth. Azriel leaned back.

“Show me you can handle it.”

+++

[qbdatabase]

She who earned her wings by Vaela Denarr and Micah Iannandrea

I am trying to get this title accepted into my public library right now! If it is, I'll add it into the database.

Other requests were:

Moonlight Love and Witchcraft -- already added! since you requested it though, I'll schedule it as a daily book for sometime next month

She Who Brought the Storm -- also working on getting this title accepted too!

[queerio-cheerios]

For #transroghtreadathon, if you want to get one of our books.- We are a Trans and Enby pair! -

You can Dm us anywhere or email us and we'll send you e-copies of any of them!!!

linktr.ee/vaelaandmicah

And we're sening out ARCs of She who Earned her Wings and you can ask for that one as well!

[ellecdc]

a marauders guide to siblings

Sirius Black x Potter!reader + moonwater + jily [1.4k words]

CW: fem!reader, reader is James' twin, siblings

James loved love. Like, if someone were to ask James what his favourite thing was, first he would say quidditch, then he would say pranking, then he’d probably say his beautiful girlfriend Lily, and then he would absolutely without a doubt say love.

Oh, and maybe also he’d say ABBA, but the order wasn’t important, alright? The point was: James loved love.

So, once the rest of his mates found partners of their own (save Peter), he immediately began begging them for a triple date. But for as mischievous as his friends were, they were equally (if not painfully more) stubborn.

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“Please!?”

“I said no, James.” Remus sighed as he rubbed harshly at his eyes; and sure, perhaps cornering him in the hospital wing following a full moon when he had nowhere to run nor hide from James’ pestering wasn’t very couth of James, but in James’ defence, he-

“POTTER.” Regulus barked from the door to the hospital wing that he just burst through, completely ignoring the reproachful shushing from the matron. “I swear to Salazar if you do not step away from my boyfriend, I-”

Except James never got to hear what Regulus planned on doing if he did not step away from his boyfriend because James - a smart man - chose that moment to shout “promise me you’ll think about it, moons!” before fleeing from the room. 

It had gone just about the same with Sirius. 

“No can do, Prongsie boy.” Sirius drawled without looking up from his study notes.

“And just why not?” James spat, obviously having had it up to here with his sodding no good best friends anyone could ever ask for. 

Sirius hummed as he looked off into the distance like he was giving this question actual thought. “Oh, right. Because I don’t want to.” He deadpanned.

“Why not.”

“James.” Sirius hissed as he sat up straighter, eyeing the librarian who was eyeing the two infamous marauders right back. “I have no interest in sitting at a table with my brother as he makes googly eyes at my best friend, nor-” he paused as he held his hand up when James went to interject, “do I want to sit at a table with my girlfriends brother as I make googly eyes at her.” 

“Then just don’t make googly eyes at my sister.” James hissed back, earning him a scoff.

“Have you seen your sister? That’s impossible.”

“Eugh.”

“See.” Sirius accused, raising a knowing eyebrow at him. “I’m not doing it.” 

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But if there was one thing James hated in equal measure as he loved love, it was quitting.

And in case that wasn’t clear; James hated quitting. 

“Oh good, you’re all here.” You announced robotically as you approached Remus, Regulus, Lily, and Sirius at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

“You alright, Potter?” Regulus questioned slowly, looking between Sirius and Remus concernedly as they both let out a groan.

“What now?” Sirius muttered as he pinched the space between his brows.

“I’m supposed to say…” you continued, pausing to pull a cue card from your pocket and reading directly from it. “As you all know, the wonderful and momentous anniversary of James Fleamont Potter’s birth is approaching-”

You hardly spared a breath for the unimpressed snort from Remus at the fact that you and James shared a sodding birthday.

“-and his one wish - in place of any gifts - is for all of us to accompany him to one triple date at The Three Broomsticks on the next Hogsmeade weekend.” You finished, only looking up at the group when you finished reciting your script before pocketing it again. 

“What exactly do you get out of this arrangement?” Lily asked as she leaned back in her chair.

“A triple date?” You answered in the form of a question.

“What do you really get out of this?” Remus asked with a laugh.

“James promised me an unlimited amount of jelly slugs for the rest of the school year.” You offered bashfully.

“Oh.” Sirius groaned theatrically before pulling you into his lap. “My poor sweet girl, being coerced by means of sweets.” He cooed pathetically into your hair. 

“Does that mean you’ll do it?!” James shrieked excitedly as he appeared out of bloody fucking no where. 

“Circe’s fucking tits.” Regulus hissed as he clutched at his chest. 

Sirius scoffed as he removed one arm from around your waist to gesture at his brother. “Look what you’ve done now, James; you’ve reduced my baby brother to swears and blasphemy. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Please?” James asked quietly; puppy dog eyes darting nervously between his best friends, his girlfriend, his best friend’s boyfriend, and his sister.

And finally, after months of begging and badgering and whining and pestering, James finally got his triple date. 

Except…except something was bothering James…

Which was weird, because it was perfect. 

James got to see Regulus smile for quite possibly the first time ever when Remus offered him a bite of his meal from his own fork and then immediately stole a kiss when Regulus wasn’t paying attention. 

For as wound up and fidgety you’d been on the walk down to Hogsmeade, James watched any and all tension melt from your body the second Sirius pulled a chair out for you, situated himself in the spot next to it and threw his arm over you like that’s where it was simply meant to be. 

And the sound of Lily’s bubbling laughter echoed somewhere deep in James’ rib cage every time Sirius or Remus took the piss at James’ expense. 

“Oh, James, you’d really like this.” You insisted then, interrupting James from his musings as you held your plate out for him to take a helping for his own plate. 

“Awe, you guys are sweet.” Lily commented before she accepted a bite from James who had, indeed, really liked what you had ordered. 

“Remus is already feeding you enough over there, don’t even think about it.” Sirius called over to Regulus who was actually not thinking about it at all, thank you very much, earning him a glare from his brother. 

And that’s when it hit James.

“Wait a second.” He commented, causing everyone to look at him warily. “Sirius is dating my sister,” he started, ignoring Sirius’ groan and Remus’ quiet ‘here we go’, “and Remus is dating Sirius’ brother…then what about me?”

Regulus let out an inelegant snort as Lily scoffed in offence. “What do you mean ‘what about me’!?” She shrilled. 

“Prongs, listen,” Sirius whispered conspiratorially, “I don’t want to alarm you, but you’re very close to losing the girl you spent six long years trying to snag.”

But before James could blanche (or beg for Lily’s forgiveness), Remus chuckled. “Don’t worry, James. I’ll claim Lily as a sibling and then you can be dating my sister.”

“What the fuck?” Regulus muttered at the same time Lily murmured “you’ll what?” and James cheered “that’s brilliant!”. 

“Why on earth would that matter?” Regulus asked, though the end of his sentence trailed off when you started shaking your head. 

“It’s best not to question it, Reg.” You offered him knowingly. 

“Fine.” Lily muttered, nodding her chin over at Remus. “Then you have to share your chips.” 

In response, Remus lobbed one across the table, hitting her right in the forehead which started a petty sibling squabble right there in the middle of The Three Broomsticks.

“Yes.” James whispered reverently. “This is perfect.” 

“Were the jelly slugs worth it then?” Sirius murmured into your cheek as James cackled at the pettiness between the pseudo-siblings and Regulus threatened to bring them all back to the castle with no dessert if they didn’t smarten up. 

You smirked as you turned your face towards his, though he made no effort to create space for you which left the two of you basically nose to nose. “At least I got something out of this.”

“I got something out of this.” Sirius said easily, continuing when you raised an eyebrow at him. “I got to spend an evening with my girl. That’s worth any nonsense.” 

You smiled before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, reciprocating quickly when he greedily demanded more. “Well then, happy birthday to James Potter, I guess.”

Happy birthday to James, indeed.