#snitch writes

[theresthesnitch]

werewolf lily 👀

Hi! 😘🥰 Thanks for the ask!

Send me an ask about one of my WIPs!

Werewolf Lily is a fic I've been working on for a while where Lily gets bit while out collecting apotion ingredient for her Potions Mastery. It's Jily and Wolfstar, with lots of hurt/comfort and complex developments to their relationships.

There's a few snippets I've posted before, and you should be able to follow the werewolf!Lily tag to find them. However, here's a new one.

*** “Nevertheless, your time off has made you behind now. If you intend to finish the program, you’re going to have to put the work in, Ms. Evans.” 

She ground her teeth. “I’ve always done the necessary work, and extra on top of it.” 

“Well, you need to select a final project. You still have to complete one, even if you don’t do anything else with it. Have you considered what you’ll do?”

“Werewolves.” 

She wasn’t really sure why she said it, because she had been planning to develop a potion that would increase the growing period for agriculture to increase output. The shock on his face, however, made Lily glad she said it. 

“Werewolves, Ms Evans?”

She nodded. “Yes, werewolves. I—I’m going to study werewolves and see if there’s a potion that can help manage lycanthropy.” 

“As noble as that is, I’m not sure there is a market for a lycanthropy potion.” 

Lily fixed him with a glare. “I wasn’t aware that my mastery final had to be profitable, or is that a new requirement.” 

He narrowed his eyes. Of course, Lily was aware that any potion she made during her mastery would be considered a joint project, and he would receive a percent of the profits as well. 

“It’s not a requirement, but your project still needs approval. I hope you bring me an appropriate proposal for this research so that I can evaluate it thoroughly.” 

Lily swallowed. She’d have to figure out her project first. “Certainly, sir. I’ll probably spend the next full moon doing field research.” 

“Be careful, Ms. Evans.” Master Burke turned away from her. “Werewolves are dangerous creatures. I’d hate to see you destroyed by the very thing you hope to save.”

[14dayswithyou]

I'm going to be a little evil :3c /silly

*I have stolen all of their headwear, leaving only FROGGY HAT in his closet.*

"Boy it sure is chilly today. Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay [REDACTED]?"

✦゜ANSWERED: I believe in froggy hat [REDACTED] supremacy 🖤🐸

He knew. Of course he knew. [REDACTED]'s security system alerted him the second you stepped foot into his apartment, and it took the dark-haired hacker almost all of his willpower not to rush home and see you. But alas, he had other matters to attend to and messes to clean up here. Things he couldn't risk putting on hold, lest he pay the consequences for them later.

So, [REDACTED] settles for watching you through his cracked phone screen as you try to sneak your way around his apartment. They didn't really understand why you felt the need to be so secretive; you knew your boyfriend would be out for the day, you had his spare keycard and access to the entire 14th floor, and [REDACTED] had made it explicitly clear early on in the relationship that everything he owned was yours completely. Nothing was off limits to you, and that included every inch of his living space.

...And even himself.

Curiously, they watch with keen interest as you quietly slide the door to his walk-in closet open and take in your surroundings once more — making sure that you really were alone in his dimly-lit bedroom. But barely a moment passes before you stride in with a newfound purpose, unzip your backpack, and begin to stash all of his caps and beanies inside.

Well, alright then. If you decided he no longer needed those items, then so be it. He was never one to deny you anything.

But in retrospect, you were honestly doing [REDACTED] a favour. He genuinely didn't really need those items in his possession anymore — especially considering how he had no real reason to conceal his identity from you after all these years of being together.

He could never forget about that pivoted moment in time when you opened up to your beloved hacker about his rather... intense need to watch over you 24/7. And after you had scolded him multiple times for stalking you from darkened corners and alleyways outside your apartment complex, [REDACTED] had all but tried to change his ways. To better themselves for you.

After all, you deserved nothing less.

Glancing back at his phone once more, [REDACTED] takes in every little movement you make as you continue to tuck away his belongings; down to the turn of your head and the flex in your muscles. Not a single twitch or glance goes unnoticed under his watchful gaze — and had the dark-haired man not been so enraptured by your ministrations — he surely would've noticed that it was just about time for him to start packing his tools up and head home.

Home, in time for the date you had planned for the evening.

But the way you purposefully moved around his closet had [REDACTED] in a trance. You were extremely methodical about the things you were swiping from his shelves; neatly packing away all of the headgear, earmuffs, and scarves on display (and even the ones hidden within the depths of his drawers!). Yet... One single item remained in the aftermath of your wake.

Atop one of the lone shelves in the corner, it sits, isolated from the rest of its kind. Worn out yet well loved; it was no more than a novelty item your boyfriend had originally won for you from a crane game. But even after their constant insistence that you should keep it, you rebutted it all by saying it'd look better on him instead — all while pushing the cute, froggy hat back into his hands with a teasing smile.

("If you keep bleaching your hair like that," his real name falls from your lips like sweet nectar, "All of your hair will fall out. When that happens, you can use this to keep your bald head warm!"

"...When that happens? Hmph. You're gettin' cheeky." With a smile of his own, your boyfriend reaches out to gently pinch your cheek. "I haven't touched m'hair in ages.")

So after watching you be so meticulous with the items you were "robbing", the hacker couldn't help but wonder what your main motive was. Why leave that silly, little frog hat alone unless... Did you want him to wear it? You knew [REDACTED] would never say no to you — let alone to a frivolous request — but admittedly, they did find it rather endearing to watch you put in all that effort just for him.

Just like how he used to be... Back before you opened the curtains of his life and brought sunshine into his heart.

Gone are the days of "Ren", when [REDACTED] had to snoop around your apartment just to get any sort of inclination of what your type and interests might be. No longer did [REDACTED] have to "borrow" some of your old clothing to keep himself company on lonely nights; to put them over his pillow and pretend like it was you he was holding close to his chest. He no longer had to steal your presents and tokens out of spite and jealousy — only to return them days later once they noticed how upset it made you.

Too caught up in reminiscing about the past, [REDACTED] had almost missed your swift getaway from his bedroom. Living up to your nickname, you glide down the staircase and across his foyer as if you sprouted angel wings on your back and stroll into the elevator, before closing the door and pulling out your phone.

And just like clockwork, [REDACTED]'s camera feed gets replaced by the bright red and green call buttons that shake and taunt him at the bottom of the screen — alongside the personalised caller photo of you smiling towards the sunset ocean with [REDACTED]'s jacket atop your shoulders. The dark-haired man leaves no room for pause before he's swiping his finger across the screen and eagerly anticipating the sound of your voice.

You greet him in that casual, nonchalant tone of yours, and [REDACTED] had to resist the urge to start recording the call — to save the addictive timbre of your voice for when he needs to hear it the most.

"Man... It sure is chilly today, don't you think?"

There's the familiar sound of tacky elevator music playing in the background, and part of [REDACTED] thinks you're purposefully calling him right now to let him in on your (not so) secret escapades... To let them know where you are.

Or perhaps you were already aware that he knows, if the way you were glancing up at the elevator camera was anything to go by.

Regardless, you don't give away any other telling signs as your beloved hacker watches you through the camera. Your bag is still carefully slung over a shoulder, while one of his old, black university caps received the pleasure of being fiddled with in your hand. Your voice returns once more, and it causes a grin to form on his lips.

"Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay?"

There's a newfound teasing lilt in your tone, which has [REDACTED] latching on to your every word with bated breath and scrambling for a reply.

"'Course. Wouldn't miss our date for the world. 'N make sure y'stay warm too, angel." Without missing a beat, he easily takes his place in your little game. "Wouldn't wanna misplace your jacket 'n get cold now, would we?"

Your pixelated smile on the screen gives everything away.

You hear the unmistakable sound of [REDACTED]'s sports motorbike before you see it; watching the corner of your street as he appears from the darkness like a phantom.

And like the gentleman that he is, [REDACTED] doesn't make you stray far from the safety of the streetlamp either. The moment your boyfriend pulls up in front of you, one of his large hands reaches around your waist to draw you near (almost as if he'd gone years without being in your presence), while the other makes quick work of the latch of his helmet. In one swift motion, he pulls it off and rests it against the tank—

Only to reveal that cute, pastel green frog hat sitting atop his head.

He can't help but smile when you do; clearly pleased that he went through with your silly request. At that, you let out a low hum of appreciation as you lean against your boyfriend's chest, and [REDACTED] returns the favour by bending down and pressing a chaste kiss against the crown of your head as well.

"...Think y'could give this unworthy prince another kiss, love?" Your beloved boyfriend leans in closer until your lips are millimetres away from touching, "Otherwise I might stay cursed t'live in this froggy form forever."

[valtsv]

having uncomfortable revelations about my mental health lately that are making creativity even harder than usual because now i feel like a damn lab experiment performing behaviours for an audience rather than someone playing toys and sharing the experience with friends

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Must be hard to be the last sane person on that mall

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Snitches Get Stitches

This is a birthday present for the very special @thelazywitchphotographer! I hope you enjoy it! And if you want more parts, let me know!

Hero gingerly knocked on Supervillain’s front door. A security camera turned toward them. Henchman’s voice crackled through the intercom.

“Hero? What are you doing here? What do you want?”

Hero released their hand from their side, showing a nasty wound that was dripping with red.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Hero mumbled.

“What the heck, Hero!?” Henchman shouted.

The camera turned off and the sound of footsteps could be heard from behind the door. Hero collapsed just as Supervillain opened it.

“What the heck, Hero!?” Supervillain exclaimed, collecting them in their arms.

“That’s what Henchman said…” Hero slurred.

Supervillain started saying a string of worried somethings to Henchman, but Hero couldn’t make much of it out. Everything sounded as though Hero was underwater.

“Henchman… Medic… how long… Hero? HERO!”

Hero knew they should’ve jumped at the sound of their own name, but they were too tired to care. They fell asleep just as Supervillain deposited them on something soft.

…

“Hero…”

Hero heard their name but didn’t stir.

“Hero!”

Now there was a faint ringing in their ears. What did the voice want? Hero knew what they wanted, they wanted to go back to sleep and-

A small slap across the face got their eyes to shoot open.

“Ow,” Hero protested groggily.

“That did not hurt,” Supervillain scoffed.

Hero’s side, which had been throbbing with every step, was now tingly and numb. Hero went to sit up, but Supervillain and someone else- Medic- pushed them back down.

“No sudden movements,” Medic warned.

“Medic, are they stable?” Supervillain asked.

Medic nodded.

“Then give us the room. Hero has something to tell me.”

Medic obliged, leaving the med bay and closing the door with a soft click.

“What did I have to tell you?” Hero asked.

“You were going to tell me who did this to you,” Supervillain said.

Hero blinked.

“No I wasn’t.”

“You are now,” Supervillain said.

“I’m really not.”

“Fine.”

Supervillain snapped a shiny cuff over Hero’s wrist, attaching it to the bed railing. Hero stiffened, looking between it and Supervillain with wide eyes.

“Now wait just a minute!”

“Did you change your mind?”

“No!”

“Then that stays on until you do.”

Supervillain got up and went to the door.

“I’ll give you some time to mull it over,” they said, “don’t try to escape. Not only would myself or Henchman make short work of you, but you’ll pop the stitches, and I’d hate for you to incur Medic’s wrath.”

Supervillain left at that, locking the door behind them. Hero sighed in exasperation. How were they supposed to tell Supervillain that their other teammate, Villain, had done this?

Part 2

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@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

[uhhlifeig]

Snitch - September 27 - word count: 577 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Sirius Black, grinning like a madman, had just knocked a Bludger out of a Slytherin Chaser's path and was already eyeing his next target.

"Nice one, Black!" Marlene McKinnon shouted from the other side of the field, her bat raised in a mock salute.

Sirius returned the gesture with a wink, his broom tilting slightly as he dodged a second Bludger. 

Up in the commentator’s booth, Remus Lupin filled the commentator role. And, naturally, he had his own way of adding some fun to the commentary.

“And McKinnon with a spectacular hit- looks like that girl’s got it out for Slytherin today!” Remus called out. “As for Black, he’s still managing to stay on his broom. Miracles do happen, ladies and gentlemen.”

The teasing lilt in Remus’s voice, and it made Sirius’s heart race faster than the wind rushing past him.

"Focus, Black!" James yelled from ahead, zipping by with the Quaffle under his arm. "Save the flirting for later!"

Sirius barked a laugh, shaking his head. He was supposed to be knocking Slytherins off their brooms, not blushing at Remus from across the pitch- but could anyone blame him? 

“And there goes James Potter- Quaffle in hand, looking smug as ever,” Remus narrated. “Let’s see if our captain can actually get it through the goalposts this time, or if his infamous ego gets in the way.”

Sirius smirked. His friend was relentless today.

James soared toward the goalposts, dodging an oncoming Slytherin Beater, and threw the Quaffle through the hoop with a triumphant shout. The Gryffindor crowd erupted into cheers.

With a swift, powerful swing of his bat, Sirius sent a Bludger hurtling across the pitch towards Regulus, who was getting a little too close to spotting the Snitch for Sirius’s liking.

Marlene whooped from the other side of the field. “Nice hit, Black! That’ll teach ‘em!”

“And it seems Black and McKinnon have made it their mission to terrorize Slytherin today,” Remus said with a chuckle. “Not that anyone’s complaining. Except, maybe, the Slytherins.”

Sirius swung back around, narrowly avoiding a Bludger that had been sent his way. He could hear the smack of Marlene’s bat behind him as she sent it back towards the Slytherins.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got your back!” Marlene called.

Sirius grinned and sent her a mock salute, then caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. A flash of gold.

The Snitch.

His eyes darted to Gregory Morrison, who had yet to spot it, and then to Regulus, who was looking in the wrong direction. Sirius tensed, ready to act as soon as needed.

“And... no sign of the Snitch just yet,” Remus said in a teasing tone, “but Black is flying around like he owns the pitch- again.”

“And there it is!” Remus’s voice suddenly rang out, excitement rising. “The Snitch has been spotted near the goalposts- looks like Morrison is on the move!”

Sirius watched as Morrison dove toward the goalposts, his broom cutting through the air like a knife. Regulus was quick to follow, and for a moment, it looked like they were neck and neck.

“Come on, come on...” Sirius muttered under his breath, fingers tightening around his bat.

“And- the elder Black to the rescue!” Remus shouted as Sirius sent a Bludger rocketing towards his brother, knocking him just off course enough to lose ground.

Morrison reached out- and caught the Snitch.

The stands exploded with cheers as Gryffindor secured their victory.

[alexsays-no]

Background study with RAB's room

[cassiefromhell]

Unexpected (pt. 6)

Part One Part Five

Fanbase: acotar

Eris x Reader x Azriel

Summary: Eris, freshly mated to you and volatile as ever, has walked in on you and Azriel in a hostile position... what will he think? It's up to you to diffuse the situation.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: fingering, dirty talk, suggestion of oral

A/N: Requests are OPEN! Check my pinned message for details on what I'll write <3 (anything from hc's to drabbles to fully blown fics! ever had a great fic idea but cant write? send em over!!). Thank you so, so much for the notes on this lil series! I read all comments and reblogs.

In the split seconds that follow Eris’s arrival, things go down far too quickly for me to comprehend well. 

As Eris’s expression turns to rage, Azriel realizes the gravity of the situation before I can even react. He releases me from his death grip, gently nudging me away from himself and backing up.

But he was too slow; Eris saw the hold he had me in, and he’s descending on Azriel.

I step forward — honestly, involuntarily, for I did not tell my body to put myself between two very opposing males — and Eris collides with me. “Eris, Eris, love, look at me. Look at me. I’m okay.”

Eris doesn’t even spare me a glance, but he does place a protective hand on my lower back, which means I have his attention. But his whole body is tense and ready to pounce at Azriel.

I continue to soothe him, rubbing circles on his chest. “I’m okay. We were just having a little fun with sparring. Nobody got hurt—”

“That was not sparring,” Eris hisses, eyes narrowing further. “I could hear you down the hall—you were asking him to let you go—”

“You act as if I had her in a chokehold,” Azriel adds, his voice coming from behind me. “She can hold her own — unlike you. I could kill you in an instant.”

His comment causes an immediate growl from Eris, and the red-haired male gently pushes me aside, and then lunges for Azriel.

The movement is too fast for me to react in time, and Eris knocks Azriel to the ground, sending the two sprawling across the floor.

Groaning, I pinch the bridge of my nose, one phrase on loop in my brain: Stupid, aggressive males. Stupid, aggressive males.

I let them brawl for around twenty seconds, wincing when Azriel lands a solid punch to Eris’s nose, but wincing harder when Eris swiftly kicks Azriel’s groin. The sharp cry of pain from that, quite literally, low blow makes me decide that enough is enough.

I stride over to them, then wait until Azriel is on top of their little rolling spree, knowing that he’s more likely to listen to me. When that happens, I speak, my voice demanding and echoing throughout the room. “Enough.”

That word in my signature ‘listen up buckaroo’ tone is enough to make both males pause and look over to me.

“I said, enough. Get off, Azriel, before I drag you by your scruff like a mangy dog — because that’s what you’re both acting like.”

Azriel, with his tail between his legs, gives Eris one last sharp glare before standing, shuffling away.

Eris is on his feet immediately, not looking quite ready to let him go.

“Eris!” I shout, stepping in front of him and grabbing his shoulders. “Look at me. Eris!”

It takes a moment, but he does relent, my first mate’s eyes shifting down to my own. 

“He’s hurting more than I am now. You’ve gotten your petty revenge. Now sit down, and listen,” I scold him, pushing on his shoulders.

Obediently, he sits on the ground. He knows my rage, and he’s learned that a happy mate keeps your life straight.

I whirl, putting my hands on my hips. Azriel is standing there, silent as ever, his shadows angrily swirling. His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, concealing his burnt—and likely now bloodied—hands. His attention is trained on Eris, seeming moderately amused that I have him on the floor like a scolded puppy.

“You too. Sit. Now.”

He too sits, but after more hesitation and a skeptical look towards me. The faint amusement on his features vanishes.

I stride to be standing directly between the two. “I will not tolerate any more anger-fed, impulsive, and frankly violent tendencies between you two. If you’re fighting for me, then do it better — I don’t know, buy me flowers or something. If you’re angry about our whole double-mate predicament, take it out on someone else. Yell at a council member, Eris. Spar with a particularly annoying Illyrian, Azriel. You know what? If you reaaaally need to get out the urge to punch each other’s teeth out, go ahead. But not in my presence. If that’s what you need, then you get a licensed sparring referee to watch you two and make sure no-one dies. But don’t go complaining to me.

“Eris,” I turn to face the male in question, flashing my teeth as I speak. “You will learn to accept that Azriel is also my mate. We’re bound to spend time together, and I understand that we’re freshly mated and you encountered us in an irregular position, but you need to leash your anger towards him.”

I hadn’t planned much of a lecture for Azriel, but a quiet, mocking “leash it, like your hounds” from behind me has me turning to face him once more.

“And Azriel,” I continue, raising my voice an octave. “You will behave. You will watch your mouth. You know better than to egg on a volatile, freshly mated male, especially in front of his female. Do you understand?”

Azriel bites his tongue like he’s refraining from insulting Eris one last time… but he nods.

“Eris. Do you understand?” I ask, crossing my arms.

The red headed male nods, more eagerly than Azriel had.

“Good. Now, both of you up.”

Equally obediently this time, they each rise. 

“Shake hands.”

Eris scowls, giving me a sidelong glance. “Love, you know how I feel about this. I will be civil, but—”

“Don’t make me force you to promise each other eternal pacifism and harmony.”

Eris immediately holds out his hand.

And, thank the Mother, Azriel shakes it.

“Good,” I sigh, running a hand down my face. “Eris, put away my harp. Azriel, I will visit Velaris in four days’ time. I expect you to be here to pick me up.”

Azriel blinks for a moment, then grins. “I’ll be there.”

Eris makes a pouty face, but I manage to brush it off for now. I’m not very good at resisting a clingy Eris, however, so I know that I need to take my leave.

I turn to the exit and leave, slamming the door shut behind me. I have to trust that those two will either talk it out or disperse on their own terms, because I am desperate to get out of the palace after the deadly combination of this encounter and so many days spent in our chambers. Not that I haven’t immensely enjoyed them.

But, honestly, my hips need a break.

An hour later, I sit high up in a tree, deep in the luscious forest surrounding the Autumn Court treehouse-style castle. 

My horse, a disagreeable andalusian mare with a stunning dapple gray coat, is tied to the trunk of a nearby tree. I’m sure she’s happily eating apples or picking the bark off of a stump.

I find these woods incredibly calming. The rustle of leaves, the crunching of pebbles under the hooves of animals — it creates a soothing atmosphere. 

Eris has graciously left me this time on my own. I’m sure he could sense through the bond how upset I was about all of the fighting — I have enough on my plate as it is. However, he won’t be able to stay away for much longer, not with being freshly mated and all.

Right on cue, a soft tugging comes from Eris’s end of the bond. I hesitate, but then match his little tug.

Not thirty seconds later, Eris winnows to a branch above me. First I feel his eyes on me, then hear a soft sigh, and then the shuffling of leaves as he climbs down to my level. He is wordless the whole time, slipping into my branch and sitting behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He tucks his head against my neck.

Equally silently, I reach back and stroke his hair.

We sit there, straddling this tree branch, for an incalculable period of time. It could have been two minutes, or two hours, I find myself genuinely unsure. 

Eris is the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry for causing you unneeded and unwarranted stress,” he mumbles against my skin. “I love you. So much. And I just want you safe… and happy. Even if that means that you accept Azriel, too.”

Sighing softly, I tilt my head to kiss his forehead. “I love you, too. And I know you do. I accept your apology wholeheartedly.”

He grins against my neck, gently biting my skin. “That’s good, because I wasn’t going to last the night without dragging you back to me by your hair.”

“By my hair?”

“Did I stutter?”

I laugh softly, gently taking his jaw in my hand. I tilt his head up to face me, then give him a long kiss.

Eris leans into it, pulling me closer. When we finally part, he murmurs against my cheek, “Four days, hm?”

“I came up with it on the spot… but yeah. Scores us four more days alone, and then I go to visit Azriel in an environment where you won’t be shooting him glares and scowls and rude little quips—”

“I was not the one making the rude little—”

“Eris.”

“Sorry, love.”

I turn to face him, my legs laying over his. We stare at each other for a very long time, before he smiles and kisses me softly. 

“You know, a lot can be done in four days,” he croons, rubbing my lower back, and then slipping his hand around to my front, over the seam of my trousers.

Whimpering, my head rests against his shoulder. “Eris… As much as I want it, my hips need a break,” I whine, though my body betrays me as heat pools under his touch.

“We don’t need to move your hips at all,” he soothes me, leaving gentle kisses along my neck as he palms me. “Let me take care of you, little flame.”

I open my mouth to, I don’t even know, object? But how could I say no to this, to the delicious sensation his hand is bringing me even through fabric? So instead, I nod, whimpering softly. “Please.”

With Eris and I temporarily gaining a break from the mating frenzy this morning, I had nearly forgotten the intense pull that builds in my abdomen now, the sharp need seeming to stem from my very soul, pulling me towards him — and dampening my underwear.

And so when his hand works its way into my trousers and breaches my folds, I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Eris tugs me a little closer, so that our bodies are flush against each other, only his hand between us. His touch is gentle right now, thumb dancing circles around my clit and his pinky finger tentatively dipping inside of me. Even the light contact has my heart racing, blood thrumming in my ears.

“So wet for me, already,” he purrs, pushing in his ring finger as well, slowly thrusting in me out. His other hand holds me close as he speaks into my ear. “Such a good girl. My perfect little mate.”

My hips involuntarily buck forward as his thumb presses against that sensitive bundle of nerves, but his other hand grips my thigh tightly.

“Ah,” he growls, shaking his head. “You said your hips needed a break. So keep them still.”

He switches his pinky out for his middle and pointer fingers, slowly thrusting in and out, in and out.

My whimpers shift into moans, and I find myself biting his shoulder to muffle them. His fingers continue to work magic on me — indescribable, fiery magic. And soon, my abdomen begins to tense and flutter, and I murmur a quick, “please.”

“I know, love,” Eris whispers against my ear, quickening his pace. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

With a sharp cry, my release comes. Pleasure and pressure wash over me and up my spine, making me instinctually close my legs around the overstimulation at my apex. Panting, the sensation seems endless, until I manage to float back down to reality, immediately registering Eris’s voice.

“You look so pretty when you cum on my fingers,” he croons, kissing the shell of my ear. “So innocent.”

“Innocent?” I ask, raising a brow. “When I’m orgasmic and moaning, I look innocent?”

Eris grins, sneaking in a few kisses at my pulse point. “It’s hard to explain… but yes.”

I reach down, seizing his wrist and pulling his hand out of my panties. His fingers glisten with my slick, and without hesitation, I bring them into my mouth… and suck.

“Still innocent?” I speak around his fingers, allowing a soft moan to slip from my throat, gagging a little as my lips meet his palm. 

It’s hard to miss the tent that pops up under the fabric over his crotch.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the crunching of footsteps over leaves interrupts our peace.

Eris sighs heavily, retracting his fingers and fixing my trousers for me. I watch his deft fingers button and straighten my pants with lust-filled, hooded eyes, tongue flicking across my lips. He gives me a ‘wait a moment’ look, and then shifts his attention to the ground.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” He calls down.

My hand reaches for the button of his own slacks, but his fingers capture my wrist without even sparing me a glance.

Damn Fae instincts.

“Apologies, my lord,” a voice calls up — he has quite the regal tone, so perhaps a guard or even a low-ranking, attention-seeking courtier. “But Lord Lucien was looking for you — something about a starry mate matter? He was rather cryptic, my lord.”

Eris groans, leaning his head down to rest on my shoulder. He whispers, “It’s always him. Always.”

It takes me half a second longer to realize what that message means. It’s an Azriel matter. Of course it is. Azriel being my other mate has yet to be exactly… announced… so far, so Eris’s brothers and very few servants or guards know of the situation. It’s no surprise that Lucien is trying to be discreet.

“Tell him I’ll meet with him in just a moment,” Eris calls down, then looks at me and speaks in a hushed tone. “I’m sure he just wants to speak of your departure in four days — I informed him earlier. I’ll meet you in our rooms later.”

“Eris,” I whine, nipping his nose with a graze of my teeth. “Can’t you feel it? The bond is—”

“I know, my love,” he murmurs, capturing my chin between his forefinger and thumb. “And I will make it up to you tonight. I’ll even bring you those smutty little romance books you like and let you recreate a scene with me.”

That satiates me. “Really?” A smile spread across my lips, my posture straightening.

“Yes, really,” he grins, pecking each of my cheeks and then giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Look forward to that.”

And with that, he leaps from the tree and disappears down the path.

“I’m bringing a hound?”

“Yes.”

“A hound? This is a stake of dominance if I’ve ever seen one.”

“It’s not just any hound,” Eris whines, gesturing to the blonde bitch at my feet, sitting at attention with her ears in the air. “She’s your favorite hound. You love her. You even sneak her extra treats.”

I roll my eyes, kneeling to stroke the dog. She leans into my touch only slightly, but remains at attention, ready to take orders. “Yeah, because look at her. She has the prettiest blue eyes. How could I say no to that face? Hmmmm? How could I say no to this sweet baby?” I nuzzle the hound’s ear, cooing to her. 

When I look back up, Eris is giving me his best puppy dog face. 

“Oh, come now,” I groan, giving his leg a light push. “I’m sure Azriel would not appreciate me bringing Kelpie, whether she’s your dog or mine — she’s still an Autumn Court hound.”

Eris shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “First of all, I’ll never get over you naming a bitch Kelpie. Secondly, I’m sure if you bat your eyelashes and ask nicely, you can bring her,” he raises a brow, “and I want you to please bring her.”

“Why?” I groan, standing once more and bracing my hands on my hips. “So that you know that I’m safe? I am perfectly capable of protecting myself better than a dog can.”

“It’s for my peace of mind,” he begs, stepping forward and tipping my chin up to look at him. “Please, little flame?”

“No.”

“……Please? For me?” Eris juts his bottom lip out, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

The four days left in Autumn have flown by, and Azriel will be here to pick me up any moment. Which perhaps, maybe, has me questioning my resolve on this matter. I know Azriel will let me bring Kelpie, but honestly it might end up feeling like Eris is watching me.

However, the face he’s making…

I groan heavily, eyes shuttering. “I really hate you, you know that?”

I can feel his grin as he kisses me, one hand sneaking around my waist. “That sounds like a concession, because you know you love me.”

Opening my eyes once more, I give his chest a gentle nudge. “I’ll bring the hound. But if I sense any funny business, and I mean any—”

“Yes, yes,” Eris smirks, patting my head, “you’ll have my ass. I know.”

“Damn right she will.”

I whirl around to find Azriel standing there, arms crossed across his leathered chest. 

“Right on time,” I say, with a glance to the clock. “I hope you don’t mind, but I wish to bring a dog from home. Just for comfort, you know?”

Azriel nods, striding to my side and kneeling to stroke the hound’s side. “That won’t be an issue. What’s her name?”

“Kelpie,” I say, patting her head.

Azriel pauses, and glances at Eris. “Did you…”

“She did,” the High Lord responds, gesturing to me. “And I will never understand why.”

“It’s a perfectly capable name!” I huff, crossing my arms. “You males are just too ridiculous to see the creativity in it.”

Azriel stands with a shrug, and then holds his arm out to me. “Are you ready to go?”

I give Eris a small smile as he hands me my bag, and I take it and Kelpie’s collar in one hand, taking Azriel’s arm with the other. Eris and I had said our goodbyes before Azriel had arrived, and before our hound discussion, so there’s no need for that now.

“Yes,” I reply.

And with that, we are enveloped in shadows.

Velaris is a beautiful city, and the place we are staying in is even more beautiful — they call it the House of Wind. 

However, on the topic of wind, I would have appreciated it more at first had someone, anyone, warned me that in winnowing in you have to either fly or drop the last few yards. 

When our winnow ended and I found myself midair and then suddenly in Azriel’s arms, shooting down onto the balcony, I was not pleased. Luckily, the Illyrian had the foresight to grab Kelpie, so she’s fine, but the whole experience was very jarring. 

“I would have appreciated a warning,” I had told him once we landed, holding a hand over my mouth to ease my queasiness.

“I didn’t think you’d be afraid of heights — I’m sorry, it’s so normal to me that I failed to even consider it,” he apologized over and over, placing a protective hand over my lower back.

“I am not afraid of heights, I am afraid of falling.”

That ended the conversation.

Which is why now I sit in the room they prepared for me, resting. Azriel thought it’d be best for me to be able to settle in a little bit before lunch, after which he’ll take me on a formal tour of the city, and then there will be a dinner at a dwelling known as The River House — Rhys has sent me paintings and descriptions of it times before, so that one isn’t new to me. I do still find it a tad bit curious that I was never informed of the existence of the Wind house, but I decided earlier not to ask.

There are a few extra tidbits I’ve learned about the building I sit in now: it can hear you and will do essentially anything you want, and it houses Cassian and a female named Nesta. I’ve been informed in past letters that she’s one of Feyre’s two elder sisters, along with Elain. I’ll be meeting her tonight, at dinner.

One thing I do know is that I like this place. I was told that the House itself arranged my room based on paintings and descriptions of me, and it’s done a fine job. A bookshelf lines an entire wall, filled with literature that, at a glance, seems to be precisely my type. It placed a knife under my pillow and on my nightstand, which is very typical ‘me’ behavior. When I first stepped in, a steaming cup of my favorite tea was placed on a desk, next to a book titled ‘Velaris: Myths and Lore of the City of Starlight.’

The house likes history.

Currently, I sit in a comfortable lounge chair, that book in my lap and tea in hand, reading up on my historical and mythological events.

I’ve been here for around an hour when the door swings open, revealing Azriel.

“Hi,” I say, closing my book. “Come to collect me?”

He gives me a quick once over, nodding. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

“Of course,” I reply, taking the final sip of my tea — but when I shift to put the items on a table, they vanish. “I must admit, that’s a tad unnerving.”

“You get used to it,” Azriel responds with a shrug, extending his arm. “Now, let me show you Velaris.”

“This time, I hope you’ll warn me before plummeting us to a certain doom,” I grin, taking his bicep gently.

He returns my grin with a wry smile of his own. “Only if I feel like it.”

Azriel’s tour of Velaris was exquisite. He showed me each quarter of the city, the squares for creative people, especially the musicians one — where I walked away a happy customer with a new, magic infused, harp cleaning cloth. Azriel carries it for me in a small paper box as we walk along the Sidra to our next destination: dinner.

“I hope you’re not too nervous,” Azriel starts, tensing a little at my side.

I raise a brow, a piece of hair falling over my temple. “Why would I be? I already know Rhys and Mor, and I’ve met Feyre and Cassian.”

He remains rigid, so I slow to a stop, tugging his elbow to turn him towards me. He says nothing, but does make eye contact.

He’s not exactly lying. But I do have the feeling that he’s omitting information. And as a spy, he must be rather good at it.

“What do I need to know, Azriel?”

A pause. The calculations passing through his mind are visible in his eyes, which sets me in an uneasy state. I find myself gripping his arm tightly now.

But the moment has been stretched out in my mind, because not even two seconds later, he replies. “There will be a couple extra people at the dinner. Their names are Gwyn and Emerie — Nesta’s friends.”

“Good. An imbalance leaning the female way is never a bad thing. Offsets you males and your volatile behaviors,” I laugh, my voice ringing through the air with the sound.

I’ve almost forgotten the way that he paused before he told me that. Like he was deciding what, exactly, to tell me.

Almost.

But when I open my mouth to inquire more, I find that we’re already on the gravel path leading up to the river house, so I snap my jaw shut and resolve that going in half-blind will be my fate.

The door swings open, and out comes Mor, who rushes over and sweeps me out of Azriel’s hold, ushering me into the house and buzzing like a bee. “Ah! I’m so glad you’re here — happy to have you back in the Night Court. Is this your first time in Velaris? Oooh, has Az shown you the city? I hope that—”

“Mor—” I cut in, to no avail.

“—he’s given a good tour; he misses all the great places. Did he show you Rita’s? We love that place! I heard you officially mated with Eris — uhm, good for you. What exactly are you doing here anyway? I thought you and the oh-so-mighty High Lord would still be in a little bubble, so I have to wonder— oh, hey, are you hungry? Since we made a—”

“Mor,” I successfully cut in, and she stops, looking over to be with a raised brow. “I’m happy to see you too. And I’m starving. So, lead the way to the food.”

A snort comes from behind me, undoubtedly Azriel. Mor nods and agrees however, placing a hand on my back and shepherding me towards the source of the food smell. 

I know that Cassian has joined Azriel behind me when the sound of wings colliding occurs, followed by hushed whispers.

But I’m distracted rather quickly as I’m led into the dining room, which is full and bustling with people, some that I recognize and some that I don’t.

I immediately spot Rhysand and Feyre, although they’ve spotted me first, judging by the dinner roll that’s hurtling towards my head. The first time I met Rhys, I defended myself by throwing a sandwich at him, so this has sort of become our tradition. My hand snaps out in front of me, catching the bread. I examine it, then take a bite. 

“First of all, are you ever going to get over this joke? Second of all, this is really good bread. Who made this?” I scarf down the food, walking over and taking a seat to Rhys’s left, Feyre already on his right. Azriel quickly takes the seat next to me.

A petite female across the table warily raises her hand. “Oh, I did. I baked the bread,” she explains. Her voice sounds like falling rose petals on a warm autumn day, and gives off the scent of lavender and honey.

“Hi,” I smile to ease her obvious nerves, holding my hand out. I introduce myself, and she shakes my hand.

“Oh, this is Elain, my sister,” Feyre cuts in, gesturing to the brunette across from us. 

“Ah, yes — I’ve heard from the letters.”

“Lovely to meet you, then,” Elain adds, smiling softly. Then her eyes flick to Azriel, her cheeks color, and she looks back to me. “You must be… Azriel’s.. friend? I was told you were visiting.”

My eyebrows draw together, and I glance at Azriel, and then back to Elain. I open my mouth to ask why she’s being so weird about the fact that I’m his mate, but then I realize the way she’s openly biting her cheek and stealing glances at the Illyrian by my side. It’s suddenly abundantly clear; either she has a thing for Azriel, or they have some sort of past.

Don’t let it bother you.

But it does. Just a little. Tiny bit. I shut my mouth, as the table fills in, every seat being filled.

Introductions go around, and I memorize each face and name. It goes: Elain, three females named Gwyneth, Emerie, and Nesta, and then Cassian. On the far end of my side of the table sits Amren, who gives me a slightly frightening grin.

I note that Gwyneth, or as everyone calls her, Gwyn, is charming and witty, paired with a wall-shaking enthusiasm. I quickly learn that she works in the library, so this must be an important form of socialization.

Emerie is nice, as far as I can tell, definitely headstrong and bold. She has an obviously strong form, but I don’t miss the way that her wings seem to sag a little behind her.

I’m halfway through my assessment of Nesta (sharp-tongued, sarcastic, and moderately unapproachable) when a macaron lands on the edge of my plate. I glance over to find Azriel watching me. 

“Oh, thank you,” I murmur, starting to pile food onto my plate. “Sorry, I was a little distracted.”

Azriel leans over, speaking into my ear, his breath tickling my skin and rustling my hair. “You weren’t distracted. You were analyzing.”

“Perhaps,” I shrug, a little smirk curling on my lips.

“I do it too. It’s just easier when you have shadows that are whispering all that you need or want to know,” he murmurs back, then leans away and starts piling food onto his own plate.

Five minutes pass easily of good food and easy conversation… and not one, but two females making eyes at Azriel. 

Elain is the most obvious about it — blushing and batting her eyelashes and aiming to brush her hand against Azriel’s by reaching for a dish at the same time as him. Thank the Mother, Azriel is mainly unaffected. In fact, his end of the bond shows affection for her, but no romantic feelings whatsoever… at least not right now.

Gwyn is the other, but she’s sneaky. More just making jokes and smiling at him than anything else, though I caught her staring at him a couple times.

Am I a little tiny bit uncomfortable? Yes.

But mostly shocked at how bold these females are. After all, his mate is sitting right next to him, right at their table.

I recite to myself: Don’t let it bother you. You and Azriel are hardly anything anyway.

Hardly anything.

“So,” Amren starts, leaning forward to bore her angular silver eyes into me. “Is someone else going to say it, or am I?”

Elain looks over at the female through her lashes, blinking in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Nesta rolls her eyes, immediately jumping on Amren’s train of thought. But then she points at me, and my heart falters. “This. Her,” Nesta says, smirking. “Why, exactly, is Eris’s mate in Velaris, with Azriel?”

Rhys raises a brow. “You two are so strange. Mor and I have known her for centuries — she’s always welcome to visit.”

Cassian gives Azriel an amused look, like he’s thoroughly enjoying the situation. He raises his wine glass in a ‘good luck’ fashion. But I’m just confused.

All of the people at the table are looking at us, with a range of expressions. Some are questioning, or confused, others looking to us for confirmation on Rhys’s claim.

And then it hits me.

Oh, shit.

They don’t know.

No one here except for Azriel, Cassian, and me knows.

They don’t know that I am Azriel’s mate.

Oh, shit.

Tags: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @5moremin @azriels-mate123 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @nightless @the-sweet-psycho @mali22 @bubybubsters @hannzoaks @menagerofmischief @theviewfromtheotherside

To be added to the tag list, comment and ask! If I missed you in the tags, please let me know.

[togaki-kun]

Okay but if I wrote a “kid gojo goes to find kid nanami in his time” spin-off for konpeitō, what then? Huh?

[bigskydreaming]

If T*m Taylor has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If T*m Taylor has one hater, then that's really weird, tbh. Feel like there should be more of us. If T*m Taylor has no haters, that means the secret DickKory cabal aimed at undermining & sabotaging his entire run has been taken out.

[theresthesnitch]

So I've been considering a November Focused Writing Challenge (that is definitely *not* nanowrimo).

"Snitch, are you going to use this opportunity to finish your *many* open WIPs?"

I'm so glad you asked. No, no I'm not. I would if I were smart, but alas, I'm not.

"Well, Snitch, then what are you doing?"

Fantastic question again. You're on a roll today. I do not know. I'm trying to figure it out. I spent far too long yesterday bugging @r33sespieces about 5 potential options, and I've narrowed it down to two options. And I can't decide. Or, more aptly. I keep deciding on the other one every 20 minutes.

"How can we help, Snitch?"

Well, darling, I'm really glad you asked. I'm putting it to a (non-binding, totally just for fun, might affect the outcome) poll.

The options:

Professor Marauders is a canonverse AU where, at the end of the first war, James and Sirius confronted Remus about being the spy, causing him to leave. Shortly thereafter, they find out Peter is the spy. Remus doesn't return. This is set roughly during POA, when Remus gets brought on as the DADA professor, only to find out that James, Sirius, and Lily all teach at Hogwarts too. Will Remus be able to forgive his friends, and will they forgive him for more than a decade of silence? (Snippets available under this tag)

Royal Wolfstar Arranged Marriage is an AU. King Orion has just died, and Prince Sirius has to get married and crowned king in short order. His wedding is arranged to a girl from a noble family in the kingdom. He's not super excited about it, especially considering he's gay, but maybe she'll be nice? Remus has not really come out as trans, and suddenly finds himself engaged to the soon-to-be King Sirius. Without any choice in the matter, he just hopes that his new husband is kind. (Snippets available under this tag)

[feyhunter78]

Trials of a Tribute pt. 5

Description: You have a chat with the Dowager Queen, and Aemond fears you regret marrying a monster such as him, unknowing that you are still unaware the two of you have been married.

Previous part here, Next part here

You sat across from the Dowager Queen Alicent, clutching your teacup for dear life as she inspected you. Her brown eyes filled with sorrow swept over you, as she sipped her own tea.

“I do feel for you, dear girl. Being traded like an object is a cruel fate that we as women often find ourselves suffering.” She said, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded, unsure of what to truly say, Aemond hadn’t been cruel to you, nor had he forced himself upon you. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it could’ve been far, far worse.

“Drink up, lest you fall pregnant within your first moon here.” The Dowager Queen urged; her lips pressed into a tight line.

Your eyes widened as you realized exactly what kind of tea this was. “Your Grace, King Aemond has not bedded me.”

Her entire body relaxed. “Thank the Seven, he is still my son.”

You assumed she feared Aemond had taken on the traits of his father and brother now that he had become king, and couldn’t blame her for it. You yourself still feared he would one day soon act upon the Targaryen need for depravity.

“His Majesty, has been very respectful, a true gentleman.” You don’t tell her of how you woke up today with your body half atop Aemond’s, his fingers splayed on your lower back possessively, the smell of parchment and eucalyptus surrounding you.

Dowager Queen Alicent nodded, a small smile on her face. “My Aemond has always been a man of honor.” Then her eyes go to your hand and her eyebrows furrow. “Did you injure yourself?”

You had worn a gown with extra long sleeves, more of a winter dress than was appropriate for the season, with the intention to hide your injury, but obviously your efforts have failed.

You held your hand close to your chest. “No, Your Grace, it’s from the Valyrian ritual.” At her look of confusion, you continued. “With the septon, and the dagger? King Aemond and I mixed our blood together. He said it was common ritual in House Targaryen.”

 The dowager queen was silent for a moment, then she nodded, plastering a smile on her face. “Ah, yes, there are so many rituals, I forget them from time to time.” She glanced at Sir Criston who avoided her frantic eyes. "Sir Cole, escort Lady y/n back to her chambers, then fetch Aemond and tell him I wish to speak to him.”

You stood and took Sir Criston’s arm. “A pleasure to speak with you, Queen Alicent.”

“You as well, dear.” She called as Sir Criston all but strong-armed you from the room.

“Sir Criston, did I do something to upset the dowager queen?” You asked, as he led you down an unfamiliar hallway.

“Why do you ask that?”

“She ended our tea so abruptly, and she simply seemed to be troubled by something.”

He stopped you in front of a door you didn’t recognize. “The queen mother has many things on her mind, but I can assure you her anger sits not with you.”

 You followed him into a barren room. “These are your quarters; I’d advise you to stay out of sight. We had many noblemen attempting to bring their daughters as tribute, and they are quite angry at being turned away.”

Dowager Queen Alicent had pulled you away from Aemond, leaving him to accept tributes alone, as she kindly but thoroughly interrogated you on every aspect of your life.

You bid the night a farewell and looked around the room. It wasn’t much to look at, but it had a lovely view of the gardens.

 Pushing open the window, you carefully sat on the windowsill, breathing in the fresh air. You gazed down at the meticulously planted flowers, imagining how happy your sisters would be to see such a sight.

You didn’t know how long you sat there before the door slammed open, and you jumped, scooting backward, further into the room, suddenly afraid of the distance between you and the ground.

Two strong arms pulled you from the windowsill, caging you against a hard chest, the silver hair that brushed your shoulders made you relax.

“Aemond? Is everything alright?” You asked, turning your head to look at him.

His shoulders were tense, his eye filled with a frantic fear and rage. “What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?”

“What?” You said, letting out a small noise of surprise when he threw you onto the nearby bed and quickly hovered over you. Caging you in with his arms, his hair falling forward and shielding your faces.

“You were going to jump, because you couldn’t stand to be married to such a monster, but your life is mine, prūmia. No one, not even the Stranger himself, will take you from me. I care not if you call him yourself, or another attempts to, no one will separate us.” He seethed, his eye burning into yours, his voice was low and rolled across your skin like a storm, the hairs on your skin standing upright in response.

“I wasn’t trying to take my own life; I was merely admiring the gardens.” You explained, before your mind fully processed his words. “Wait, married?”

“I’m aware that my mother informed you of the true nature of what occurred last night.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “No, she said nothing. Aemond, are we married? You shouldn’t have—” You were cut off by Aemond’s warm lips brushing down your neck, stopping at your pulse point when you let out a small whimper.

 His acknowledging hum vibrated against the sensitive skin. “You’re mine, I told you that. As of last night it was made true, the septon bore witness to our union, so did Sir Criston.”

“But I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have done it if I knew.” You protested lightly, still afraid to upset Aemond.

“Because you don’t wish to be married to a monster, I know.” He snapped, pulling back to glare at you.

You shook your head. “It’s not that at all, I don’t think you’re a monster, nor do I have any personal qualms about marrying you but, it’s not truly up to me.”

“You’re correct, it’s not up to you, it’s up to me, and I wished to marry you.” He spoke his words into your skin before he attached his lips to your sensitive spot, nipping and sucking until a red mark bloomed, its sting soothed by his tongue.

“But you shouldn’t have, I’m from a small house, there are much better options and oh…” Your voice dissolved into nothing as Aemond continued his ministrations, his fingers running through your hair, his lips latched onto every bit of exposed skin they can find.

“I’m king of the Seven Realms, I will marry who I wish.” He said firmly, his eye flickering up to yours as his lips made their way to the swell of your breasts.

Your face burned once more, and you attempted to push him away. “Aemond, please, this is not proper.”

He stopped and sat up, a distant look on his face. “You’re right.”

You sat up as well, smoothing down your hair. “Thank you, now we really must get this marriage business straightened out.”

He frowned. “Do you not wish to be queen?”

You swallowed hard. “I don’t think I have the education to be a good queen.”

This series masterlist here!!!

Tag list: @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhhaa, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon

Strikethrough means I couldn't tag you for some reason!

[cerenemuxse]

God, i hate her so much smh /s

[ughgoaway]

I rlly like the idea of it being blurted out during a fight, or one of the boys accidentally telling her/her hearing it from them!!

idk which of these scenarios I'm writing actually happened, but it's so fun to think of different options that I'm just gonna keep doing different ones lol

im already working on an ask about the fighting one so, I'm gonna talk ab one of the boys accidentally telling you bc I think that's so funny (and on brand)

so I think you're coming to the studio with cookies that you baked the boys, you know they've been working so hard on the album and you wanted to get them a little pick me up.

security at dirty hit know you now, you've been there loads visiting matty and picking him up so they all just say, "hi miss y/n, visiting our boys?" And you're like "ah you all know me too well, but don't worry, I brought something for you too!" and I think you whip out some banana bread, and they are all over the moon. one of them let's you up, and then runs off to make a cup of tea to enjoy with his banana bread lol

you knock tentatively on the door and hear a booming voice say, "Come in," so you stroll in to see George and Adam sitting on the sofa on their phones.

"Hi sweetheart!" comes from George, and soon enough, both of them are up giving you a hug, "what are you doing here? matty didn't mention you were coming today?"

"Oh, I didn't tell him, I baked you all some cookies and decided to surprise him!" You smile and pull the cookies out of your bag and are immediately tackled into another hug by George.

"mattys out getting lunch right now, but you are more than welcome to stay and have a cup of tea," Adam says, smiling gratefully at you before tucking into a cookie.

it's at this point when Ross walks I'm, "y/n! Nice to see you, love!" he walks around to you and pulls you in for a hug, and you smile at all of their kindness. Being accepted so quickly by all of them was amazing.

"Hi!! just here to bring cookies and see matty whenever he gets back. " Before you can finish, Ross has pulled away with an excited gasp and is looking around for the cookies.

adam laughs and passes him the box. He immediately grabs one and bites in, moaning dramatically at how good the cookie is and passing the box back to you.

"Oh no wonder, matty is in love with you. with these cookies, how could he not be?" he says with his mouth full, blissfully unaware of the bomb he dropped.

the room is silent aside from Ross' happy crunching and before long that stops too, after George thumps him on the arm.

"Dude! ow! why would you do that? " Ross whines, and both Adam and George stare at him like he's grown 3 heads. meanwhile, you're standing there holding the box of cookies like 👁👄👁

ross, George and Adam share looks for a good 10 seconds before Ross drops the remainder of his cookie dramatically and simply says, "Oh shit."

another few seconds of silence come before a jumbled mess of apologies from all 3 men, "y/n just ignore him. you know how much he loves baked things and -" "Yeah, just don't tell matty -" "IM SO SORRY. SO SO SORRY. OHMYGOD DONT TELL MATTY"

and of course, what better time for matty to walk in with 3 bags of Chinese food like, "Don't tell matty what?"

you all spin around like you've been caught in a crime, Ross even shoots his hands up instinctively. and matty shifts his eyes between the 4 of you before snapping back to you, seemingly only just realising who the 4th body in the room is.

"darling! what are you doing here, hi!" matty says, placing down the food and wrapping you up in a hug. you say frozen with the box of cookies in your hands, and matty awkwardly hugs you around it and pulls back questioningly.

"Baby, are you okay?" But before he really checks in, his eyes shift down, and he says,"Oh cookies! thank you!!"

Whilst he was quickly distracted by the cookies, he was also quickly brought back at your wide-eyed expression.

"y/n..." he says before turning around to see all 3 of his friends avoiding eye contact and "acting casual" (acting extremely suspicious)

"Why are you all acting like you've killed someone? what happened?" he asks, and before Ross can stutter out an explanation, George and Adam so helpfully butt their way in.

"ROSS TOLD Y/N YOU LOVE HER," the pair says in unison, matty makes an audible choking noise before very slowly turning to meet Ross' eyes. which were currently scanning the room for an escape route.

you place your hand on mattys shoulder, pulling him out of his shock and bringing him back to whatever the fuck was happening.

you don't say a word. Simply grab his hand and drag him to the kitchen. as he leaves, he sends the boys a scathing look, and they all have the good grace to look sheepish, especially Ross.

you lean on the counter, and matty takes a seat at the small chair in the kitchen. Silence resumes until matty tentatively says "soooo, how's work?"

you give him an incredulous look and he promptly shuts the fuck up. you move slowly and sit in the chair across from matty, he reaches over the table and grabs your hands. rubbing his thumb along the back of them soothingly.

you finally muster up the strength to talk-

"you love me"

"yes"

"...are you sure??"

matty has to stifle a small laugh before responding, "I am 100% sure my love"

"...oh" you knew, because of course you knew. but knowing it and hearing it? 2 very different things.

matty is so fucking nervous at your response and just asks, "and how do you feel about that?" because he wants to be patient and kind but he can also feel his heart in his throat right now.

"obviously I love you too, but I just wasn't expecting to hear it from Ross. and I had like a plan of when I was gonna tell you because I didn't wanna scare you off. and I know you have to think about Annie, and it's so complicated being her teacher and-"

matty stands up, pulls you up too, and calms you as he pulls you into a hug, "shh sweetheart, it's okay. You don't need to freak out." he says as his hand rubs up and down you back, trying to regulate your breathing.

"But you love me?????" You pull back and look at him like he's just said the stupidest thing ever.

"yes I love you, but you've just said you love me too so I'm really not too worried" he laughs lightly at your reaction, you had clearly not realised what you had said in your anxious ramble.

"Oh... well, of course I love you... how could I not? you're the love of my life, " you say softly, and matty feels his heart move from his throat back into his chest, and soon it starts to beat again .

"So it's easy then, right? nothing is complicated. You are the love of my life, and I'm the love of yours. See? simple."

you smile still wrapped up in his arms and respond by saying, "simple"

more blurbs for this au here!!

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Snitches Get Stitches- Part 2

Part 1

Hero didn’t know when they had fallen asleep, only that the sound of the door opening woke them up. The last person they wanted to see entered the room.

“Hero!” Villain exclaimed, “you poor thing, who did this to you?”

Hero glared, trying to sit up.

“You know full well who- ah!”

Villain had crossed the room and roughly shoved Hero back down. They tutted.

“Medic said you shouldn’t exert yourself so much,” Villain cooed, “bad things could happen.”

“Nothing worse than you,” Hero spat weakly, but fear shone in their eyes.

“Hm,” Villain hummed, “you seem to think I did this horrible thing. Those meds must be pretty strong.”

Villain leaned over Hero, their fingers lightly tracing their wound. Hero fought back a whimper.

“Because the way it really happened,” Villain said softly, “was that some low-life vigilante did this, and left you for dead.”

Villain dug their fingers into their wound. Hero cried out in pain. They heard the stitches pop open and felt warm, sticky redness trickle out onto their skin.

“Oh dear, you were so traumatized by it all, that you aggravated your injury,” Villain said in mock sympathy, “I guess we better get Medic. They won’t be happy with you, Hero.”

Villain straightened up, heading for the door.

“Don’t forget to tell them about that vigilante,” Villain said, “we wouldn’t want you to suffer further.”

Villain left, locking the door behind them. Hero’s side was pulsing, and their head swam with a myriad of different thoughts. Their breathing came in short and fast, and the only thing louder than the sound of their heartbeat pounding in their ears was the heartrate monitor that picked it up. Hurried footsteps thundered outside, getting closer by the second. Hero had to make a decision fast. Do they tell them the fabrication Villain wanted them to give, or do they tell the truth and risk not being believed and then promptly being maimed by Villain? Supervillain entered the room, followed by the rest of their team. As Henchman gasped and Medic rushed to redo their stitches, Hero wondered which instinct was going to win.

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[3d-wifey]

HEAR ME OUT!!! HEAR ME OUT!!!

Listen it was only a matter of time b4 I got into RPF. I mean, the JFK fic was the first step. And Austin Butler and Callum Turner weren't helping with my restraint. But, now, it's become too much. I HAVE TO WRITE FOR HASAN

Like would yall kill me if I did? Would yall burn me at the stake if I wrote for Hasanabi? Tednivision? I'm just a girl?

I'VE READ ALL THE FICS ALREADY WRITTEN, NO ONE ELSE IS REALLY WRITING FOR THEM, IM DESPERATE