#then having to start from scratch because the book of spells was gone and your mom prioritized a book of fashion over an important heirloom

[vehrabells]

Papa’s Girl . ⌛🧡

I hope this makes sense. (´；ω；｀) | Again, Orik design by @jess-the-vampire ! I’ve been coming up with Skywynne and Orik stuff hejdjsjejd I’m invested in the father-daughter...

[banditthewriter]

Trust - Astarion fic

My first try at writing for Astarion. Here's hoping I don't butcher him! 1.1k words, not edited at all lol

Enjoy!

***

The box was wrapped in a simple brown paper. You tucked it under your arm as you made your way through the crowds of people that filled the square. Gone were the tiny villages that you had stopped at before. Baldur's Gate offered many new opportunities and options, as well as new dangers.

Which was partially why you had the box. It wasn't for you though. It was for Astarion. He had stayed back at the inn, not wanting to be out and about while things with Cazador were unsettled. Especially not after riling up his siblings.

You motioned to the group that you were ready to leave. Gale had an armful of books and scrolls, Shadowheart had a small leather bag with something solid in it, and Karlach had a shiny new ax that she was desperate to try on her old boss's face. Once everyone paid up and gathered their purchases, you all set off back to the inn.

After you stowed your other purchases, you made your way over towards the fire. Astarion sat in one of the plush seats closest to it, his eyes on the flames while a goblet of probably-not-wine sat clutched in one hand. You watched him for a moment before you crossed over to him.

The firelight reflected back in his red eyes as he watched the flames dance in the fireplace. You knew that he was aware of your presence but you also knew he wouldn't address you until he was ready.

Scratch and Scritch, the name Shadowheart had given the owlbear cub, came barreling through and nearly missed his legs. That's what broke the spell the fire held over him.

"What can I do for you, fearless leader?"

You rolled your eyes at his tone. Then, without a word, you held out the box. The plain brown paper didn't give way to anything, but the small bow you had tied with a red lace ribbon showed that it was a gift.

"What's that."

It wasn't a question really, more like a confused statement. You rolled your eyes again and thrust it out closer to him.

"It's called a gift."

Astarion stared at the box for a long moment before he used his free hand to accept it from you. Gently he placed it to balance on his knee before he looked back up at you.

"Why are you giving me a gift?"

You shrugged as your eyes went from his confused facial expression to the box on his knee.

"Because I saw it and thought of you. Does there have to be a reason?"

The silence that followed that question was enough to remind you just who you were dealing with. Astarion didn't trust kindness without purpose. He trusted you, at least you hoped he did, but he still disapproved when you did kind things for others unless there was something to gain from it.

A gift for no reason? Of course he was looking for the catch.

"Just open it Astarion," you urged with a gesture to the box.

He gently placed the goblet down on the table beside his chair. Then he slowly lifted the gift to inspect the wrapping. First he untied the lace ribbon and laid it on the table. Then he found the place where the paper had been tucked and pulled it out slowly.

Either he was careful because that was just his manner or he expected a trap. Either was possible at this point. You had been known to rip gifts open with abandon so this was definitely something to bear witness to.

The paper finally came undone and he let it fall to the floor beside his boots as he looked at the simple wooden box. You didn't rush him, but eagerness made you shift your weight a bit as you waited to see his reaction.

He undid the clasp and lifted the lid. You couldn't see the gift from where you were, but you'd stared at it enough before you forked over a truly jaw dropping amount of gold for it.

With a questioning noise, Astarion lifted the dagger out of the box and held it up. The silver blade shone red and orange from the firelight nearby. Then the hilt had a series of red rubies that seemed to glow.

"Careful, it's sharp," you started, but he interrupted.

"Well of course it's sharp, who buys a dull dagger?"

You knew his sarcasm was hiding his confusion, so you didn't react to that. Instead you pointed to the hilt.

"There's runes inscribed on the hilt, do you see them? The dagger is extremely dangerous to vampires." At his raised eyebrow, you shrugged and looked away towards the fire. "I know you don't trust me yet when I say that I...that we will keep you safe from Cazador. Maybe having that will help you feel a bit more in control. That if any of them try to take you against your will, you have more in your arsenal than just the tadpole. Even if you feel like you can't rely on us, you aren't vulnerable."

A few moments of silence seemed to drag on forever so you glanced over at him. He met your gaze and then shifted to switch out the dagger that was in his boot. You knew that he would wear it on his hip when he was armored, but for now, he kept it close.

"Thank you," he offered lowly as he closed the empty box. "I...have nothing to give you in return."

"A gift doesn't need reciprocity. I just want you to feel safe."

He gave a nod, his eyes drifting down to the box that he held loosely on his lap. With nothing else to say or do, you turned and headed towards towards the few stairs that would lead you to the rest of the room.

His voice called out and made you stop.

"Would you like...to join me? By the fire."

You turned around and smiled. You eased yourself into the chair next to him. He put the box down beside his feet, tucking the wrapping paper beside it as well. Then he picked up his goblet and offered it to you.

You took a quick sip, grateful that it was wine and not blood, and handed it back to him.

"I do believe you when you say you will do whatever it can to keep me from Cazador's grips," he explained quietly, his eyes trailing from your face to the fire. "Whether that will be enough to truly keep me safe is yet to be determined."

"We have the advantage, but we'll face him together."

Astarion's red eyes met yours, the fire lighting behind him to make him look like he was glowing.

"Together."

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 7

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2k words | warnings: mentions of trauma | masterlist

Your neck is aching when you throw it back and release a loud groan. Your eyes are already burning from staring into books the whole day. Outside Velaris has already entered the night – many hours ago–, but you are still sitting here, your back sore from being bent over the books for hours. 

The orange candle on the table, the only light source in the living room of the house of wind at this point, has almost burnt down to nothing, but you need it just a few more minutes. 

You are so close, you know it. The solution is right there, you just need to grasp it.

Reaching forward, you place your hand on the onyx box, sharp nails piercing into it. With the index finger of your other hand you trail over some ancient spells written in lettering that is now longer used. The spells are most likely witches runes, you are not familiar with them, but with the help of Nesta and maybe also Amren, you will be able to open the box.

You can feel it. You can feel how the small casket reacts to your touch, to the idea of being opened. It is burning with emotion, so hot your palm heats. 

You are so close – so close to opening this damn box. And so close to freedom. You will be allowed to roam freely when this is over, no one will ever lock you away again. Once the box is open you will demand your amulet back. With it your powers will return and then you are gone. To the continent or wherever the wind takes you. 

Gone…involuntarily your thoughts wander to the shadowsinger. He is also gone. Has been gone for a few days now. Gone just like back then. When he left you behind, broken and bloody. He did not even check to see if you are alright. If your wounds are too deep. If you will survive. 

Rhysand’s words hollow in your mind, loud, strong, and you force your eyes closed, fighting against the tears. 

“My father…he threatened the other female in Azriel’s life. The only other female he would have given his life for. This was the only way to protect you both.”

All those years, you have wondered what Azriel’s reasons were. Why he betrayed you like this. Why he never came to see you. You don’t know if you will ever be able to forgive him, but what you know is that you want to give him another chance to talk. You want to hear it from him. Everything. Every little thing he has to say. You want him to talk about his mother, about how he locked you in the Prison, the moments after it, the moment when he found out what the Harp was capable of. He owes you all the explanations and you owe him your time to listen.

You shake your head, directing every thought that threatens to stray into Azriel’s direction at matter at hand again – Koschei’s onyx box. You need to open it and you are so close. You flip over to the next page, finding more cryptic lettering. Your eyes are closed when your fingers trail over the words, the runes, the pictures and you feel it. This is it. 

Jumping up, the chair scratches over the ground with a loud noise. You need to find Nesta, and you need to find her now. You really hope she is not currently otherwise occupied with a certain general of the Illyrian armies because you really need to talk to her.

Blowing out the candle, you turn swiftly and head for the corridor, running as fast as your feet can take you, your thin, silken gown swishing around your legs. You head up the stairs, towards Nesta and Cassian’s main bedroom, but stop dead in your tracks when your eyes land on him. When his moan of agony pierces through your mind. 

The door to his bathroom is open, his bloody chest exposed, large wings draped on the ground, his hands braced on the edges of the sink. 

You can’t tear your eyes away and fully on your own accord your feet start to walk, no longer moving you towards Nesta’s room, but to him. You can’t stop yourself, it is like something is pulling you to him. And you know what it is – the tug on your chest. Before his betrayal you had loved the idea of it. Then everything came crashing down, and you hated it. You have been clamping down on the feeling of it for centuries, pushing it away, but now seeing him bloody and wounded –seeing your mate bloody and wounded– fire ignites deep within your soul, the bond once more coming alive inside of you.

“Azriel.” Your voice trembles, heart squeezing at the gaping wounds marring his entire torso, dripping with blood and puss. It looks awful and painful. Your fingers curl towards your palms.

He whips his head into your direction, and with a crooked smile, he says, “It isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Bullshit,” you answer and step into the bathroom. “You look like you have been attacked by a beast, those wounds are deep. You need a healer to look over them.” When your eyes lifts, they clash with his. 

“Don’t act like you care,” he mumbles, holding your gaze.

“You have no right to snap at me, Azriel,” you answer in a stern voice, “not after everything that has happened between us, not after everything you did to me.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know.” You close the door behind you and fully move into the room, reaching for the cloth on the sink that is no longer white, but has no a pinkish colour, stained from all the blood. You clasp it tightly in your hand, and without saying a word, attach the cloth to Azriel’s wounded skin. He sucks in a sharp intake of air, then holds his breath and lets you do your work. “I am ready to talk, Azriel.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his fingers curl around the edge of the sink, scarred knuckles turning white. “I needed time, I needed time to adapt, to understand, to progress, but I am ready to talk now.” You tip your head back and meet his hazel eyes, a flicker of hope within them now that you revealed that you are ready to talk to him. 

“Rhysand told me about your mother.”

“His father threatened to execute her. I needed to protect her, but I need you to know that I didn’t choose her over you. I was…torn. I only had a few people in my life that I loved, and risking one’s life for that of another…I only tried to–”

“Keep us both safe. I know this now.” Your hand moves lower, brushing over a wound on his lower belly that disappears behind the pants of his Illyrian leathers. 

“I was trying to get you out. I was looking for ways once all threats were gone, but…only when we found the Harp I had a solution on how to do it. I knew how I was going to get you.”

You nod slowly, and put the cloth aside. “Let’s patch you up and then we talk properly, yes?”

It is a big step you are taking, but you know you have to do it. You finally have to talk to him. Your heart is racing both with panic about being so close to the person that has hurt you most in your life, but also with relief that you can finally be near him without feeling like the air to breathe has been stolen from you. He still unnerves you, but now that you have learned more about why he acted like this, talking to him seems easier. 

You have to talk to him. For yourself. You need to know everything. Find out what really were his reasons.

“In my room?” Azriel asks in a calm voice. 

You nod again and set out to do exactly what you said – patching him up. 

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“He showed me what he would do to her. All the cruel things. And all the cruel things he would do to you. He invaded my mind and showed it to me.” 

You find yourself nodding again, tears lining your eyes. You sit next to him on the bed, Azriel’s head resting on the pillow, close to your hips, his chest now bandaged, his body covered by the thin bed sheet. “I had no choice.”

You want to tell him that everyone always has a choice, but in this case, this was truly the only way to do it. You have been listening to him for the past hour or even longer, soft moonlight filtering in through the curtain-framed windows. It is the only lightsource, but you don’t need more. You close your eyes, your soul for the first time calm and at ease in his presence. Azriel has been talking the whole time, a rarity you think, because centuries ago when you were together he was always rather calm. 

“Did it really hurt you to put me in the Prison?”

You feel the bed shift next to you, and a moment later his scarred digits brush your hand. “What a question…” You can hear how he draws in a deep inhale and his hand closes tightly around yours. “It tore me apart. It felt like someone ripped out my heart, and tore it into pieces. Like my soul lost its life, like it was diminished and I could never ever feel happiness again. All the years, the centuries that passed, where I couldn’t free you, destroyed more parts of my soul.”

You slide down on the pillow, not letting go of his hand, until you are on eye-level with him. His head is turned to you, and he is already looking at you when you open your lids. 

“I knew the first moment I could find a way to free you, to get you out, I would do it. You were bound to the Prison by the High Lord’s magic, you couldn’t get out alone, not even if I had tried to. It was only possible through the Harp – the Dead Trove’s magic is stronger than any High Lord’s.”

You deep your chin, nodding slowly, the back of your mouth aching. “I thought you hated me, you loathed and feared me just like everyone else. That our whole relationship was a false-pretence.”

His throat bobs. “I didn’t fake a single thing – every I love you, every kiss, every hug, whenever we made love, I meant it all. And I meant when I said that I would protect you…I never meant to hurt you. To destroy you.”

You shift closer on the bed. “Do you know why your soul hurt after you put me into the Prison?”

“Because I lost the love of my life.” He pushes up on his elbows, groaning due to the wounds on his chest that have not yet healed. He shifts onto his side, now looking directly at you, but you shake your head. 

“No, Azriel,” you say, “your soul hurt because we were mates and the bond broke the moment you closed the gates to my cell.”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azrielsmate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria

[courtingchaos]

oooo but what about Doesn't-Know-He's-An-Incubus Eddie. like growing up his life was completely normal until he's older and starts having sex and he realizes he feels so.... strong.

This would be good too because the part I left out is him haunting comic book stores and tabletop game spaces because those girls are so desperate for a dude to not mansplain to them. They just want to be included and they know what they’re talking about and Eddie just loves teaching people. He’s like, the only dude who isn’t shooing them off or telling them they’re dumb. And it would get him so much ass.

Like picture it. He’s unaware of any actual power he might have. Probably got it from Al, that Munson charm he always wielded had to come from somewhere. Eddie would see these girls getting dragged around by boyfriends who could care less that they were there, if only to show the other dudes that ‘hey, I have a girlfriend and you don’t.’

He’d smile and ask them about their character sheet and next thing he knows he’s in the back of his van with her. He’s sliding into another random bed. He’s leaving after getting his world rocked enough that he feels like a brand new man. He’s finding people at the Hideout on terrible dates and suddenly he’s getting these little flashes of himself in the middle of getting his dick sucked. Nothing he’d ever seen, at least not from that angle, but they’re just brief rose tinted images.

It’d happen more and more, for longer periods. Someone’s babbling under him and he’s like, taken by visions. Sometimes it’s just him sometimes it’s someone else. Sometimes he’s just a polished version of himself, some kind of rockstar-model combo, but then he starts seeing it. That freak behavior.

“A tiefling? Really?” He asks mid stroke. He looms over her while staring through her. He can see the horns weaving through his hair. The deep purple skin and black eyes. A forked tongue flicks down at her with his grin bracketing it.

“Wh-what?” She’s breathless and gone. He shifts his gaze to catch her’s and he can’t. Eyes fogged over with lust, mist that settles over the color of her iris.

“Is this it, your big fantasy?”

“Uh huh.”

He leans in close pushing her knees into her chest. Spread open so vulnerably under him. He could eat her up and he doesn’t think she’d ever complain. Inches from her face he’s whispering to her, talking her to the edge of her pleasure. Writhing and shaking under him, nails digging into his biceps he barely notices the scratches or the draw of blood. He hasn’t noticed the change in his voice. There’s a baseline to it, something deep and reverberating and it almost strings her orgasm along longer.

When she finally comes down and unwinds from herself Eddie realizes he never came. There was a spell happening in the back of his van, something heady and new. He could snatch that image of himself out of thin air and tuck it away for later. It makes him chuckle while she’s trying to wiggle back into her jeans.

“So do you play as a tiefling or was that just something you came up with on the spot?” He’s buttoning his own jeans and doesn’t catch her giving him a weird look.

“What?”

“The…tiefling thing. Big purple guy?” The ‘me’ is implied but he doesn’t say it.

“I don’t-I’m not-“

“I’m not picking on you.” He’s quick to reassure but she looks confused, not hurt.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t think you were.” There’s a shy smile that she tries to hide. When he opens the door to help her step out she asks if he’ll be around for next weeks session. It’s unsaid but he catches the flash of the inside of his van.

“Sure.” He’s vibrating. His skin crackles and his blood sings. This feels better than any bong rip or bump he’s sniffed. There’s a tingling along his spine as he watches her walk away and he tries to figure out just what it was he was doing in the dark.

[life-at-hogwarts]

In the Shadow of Love (Ominis x GN!reader)

Pairing: Ominis x GN!reader

Warning: pure fluff

Wordcount: 1.7k

Summary: You decide to finally take the next step and ask Ominis for a date.

A/n: This once I'll let them be happy. No trauma. Just fluff.

Had this chapter lying around finished for a couple of months and for some reason never thought it was ready to be published. Now I thought I'll just put it out anyway.

(This is part four of Dark Legacy - House of Gaunt but can be read as a oneshot)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

The library was filled with the sounds of quills scratching on parchment and rustling pages. It was late afternoon and soft golden light trickled through the tall windows when you made your way to one of the desks in the corner, where Ominis was fast asleep. His face rested on the book he had been reading, with one arm covering his eyes, while the other one was outstretched, still holding on to his wand. You dropped your books on the table with a loud bang, causing him to shoot up from his book. “Studying hard, eh?” you teased and sat down opposite him. Ominis yawned and rubbed his eyes. “I was taking a break. My eyes get tired when I have to concentrate for an extended period of time.” There was an awkward pause and you quickly opened one of your books to diffuse the tension. This was the first time the two of you were alone since you had returned from the Gaunt estate late last night. Sebastian had come back from Feldcroft in the morning, just in time for breakfast. The three of you had had a busy day, and now it was time to catch up with the classwork you had missed while you were gone.

“Where’s Sebastian?” you asked, searching the room for the freckled brunette.

“He’s not coming. I think he’s in the Undercroft researching Slytherin’s spell book,” Ominis murmured, unable to hide the concern in his voice. You knew how he felt about Sebastian’s research and thought about Anne’s warning. Still, you felt torn, not wanting to take away his hope. If anyone could find a cure for Anne, it would be Sebastian. You had seen how much it pained him to see his twin suffer – he needed her. Instead of answering you got out your quill and quietly started working.

 You had been working in silence for about half an hour when Ominis sighed deeply and put away his spelled quill. “How could we have missed this much in just one day? I swear Sharp is doing this to punish us because he couldn’t the other day when he caught us in the common room.”

You closed your book too, deciding to finish the rest some other time and asked, “Have you ever been to the Underground Harbor?”

“Hmm I think so? I guess in my first year they took us somewhere by boat, but I can’t quite remember.”

“It’s by the Viaduct courtyard. I’ve discovered it on one of my nightly prowls around the castle. I don’t think people really go there, but it’s beautiful, really.” You took a deep breath. “Do you want to join me tonight?”

A cheeky smile spread across Ominis’ face. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Well, I suppose you could call it that. It’s time we had a proper date don’t you think? Don’t get me wrong I didn’t mind our night in the common room and back at your house, but it does not really qualify as courting, does it?” No one was more surprised by the sudden burst of confidence and cockiness than you were. Immediately after the words had left your mouth you started blushing, but Ominis’ smile only widened. “In that case, I would love to go on a date with you.”

-----------

Your heart was pounding when you snuck out of your common room and made your way to the dungeons to pick up Ominis. Usually, he had no problem navigating around the castle, but he wasn’t exactly stealthy, and you didn’t want him to get caught on the way to your first date. The tall blonde was already waiting in front of the Slytherin common room. “No need to be nervous, darling. I could hear your heart beating from the other corridor,” he chuckled and brushed a lose strand of hair from your face. The sound of his voice calmed you and made your stomach flutter at the same time.

The Viaduct courtyard was on the other end of the castle, but to your luck you reached it without running into anyone, thanks to your excellent knowledge of the castle’s secret passages and corridors. Even though these nightly excursions were almost part of your daily routine by now, you still felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins when the doors of the ornate elevator closed behind the two of you. “Now I know why Sebastian is so fond of you. Based on the ease you navigate around with without getting caught I reckon you do this quite a lot. You must break even more school rules than he does.” The elevator rumbled and you moved closer to Ominis. “This is worth breaking a few rules for.”

You followed Ominis into the dimly lit room giving him a moment to take it all in, before you headed towards the docks. The blind boy walked behind you, carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

“Why did you pick this location?” he asked when you climbed into one of the rowboats and offered him your hand.

“It’s my favorite place here in Hogwarts. Whenever I need a minute of peace and quiet, I come here and sit on the docks. I thought you might like it too,” you answered while you waited for him to sit down. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, and you wondered if this had been a bad idea.

“I find the sound of the water quite calming, and I like the fresh smell of the lake,” he assured you and you could feel him slowly starting to relax next to you. Moonlight fell through the vines of the lake entrance and made Ominis’ eyes glow like pure silver. You swallowed loudly, your mouth feeling dry all of a sudden. Merlin, how you longed to finally feel his lips on yours again. He lifted his long slender fingers to your face, and you shuddered under his touch, raising your head in anticipation but the kiss didn’t come. “Tell me something about you no one knows,” Ominis demanded instead. “You’ve seen so much of my life, yet I barely know anything about yours.”

“It’s not that interesting, really,” you breathed, his sweet scent driving you insane. The blonde pulled his hand away and left you starving for his touch. You hated the effect he had on you. You weren’t usually this needy. All of a sudden, he cupped your face in his hands roughly and pressed his lips onto yours. “Believe me I want nothing more than do this all night. But I also want to show you that my attraction to you is more than merely physical. Even a blind man can tell you’re beautiful. I want to see the parts of you you don’t show anyone else.”

Hours passed in effortless conversation, and you only realized how long you had been talking when the moonlight, that had been seeping through the vines of the overgrown entrance, slowly faded. Ominis too noticed the subtle change of lighting. “Let’s watch the sunrise,” he murmured sleepily and reached for his wand. He navigated the boat safely out of the cave, stopped in the middle of the lake and raised his head to the sky which had started to change from a blueish grey into a soft orange as the sun was slowly creeping up behind the mountaintops.

An idea started to form in your head, and you gave Ominis a mischievous smile. “Do you trust me?” Before he could answer you had already summoned your broom which quickly made its way into your outstretched hand.  Ignoring Ominis’ confused expression, you mounted your broom and waited for him to climb up behind you. Knowing full well how much Ominis disliked flying you took off very gently, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed against yours, his hands resting on your waist. You flew a few slow circles around the lake to make sure he was comfortable before speeding up and flying close to the water that was glowing with the light of the sunrise.

Ominis let out a surprised laugh and you turned around to see his flushed face smiling back at you. This only fueled you on more, making you push your broom to its limits, shooting up into the sky and circling the towers of Hogwarts with delicate maneuvers until you felt Ominis anxiously digging his fingers into your hips. The sun had fully risen when you headed back to the lake and manage to land in the boat. Even though you tried your best to make the landing as gentle as possible the small rowboat shook violently, causing you to topple over taking Ominis with you. You gasped when his weight forced the air out of your lungs for a moment. The next thing you knew his lips were pressed firmly onto yours, once again taking your breath away. He stopped for a moment to let you catch your breath, but you quickly pulled him back down again. He took his time, planting gentle kisses all over your face and neck, driving you wild before giving you another taste.

“Well, that was quite the date. I am going to have to try hard to give you an even better one,” Ominis mumbled breathlessly as he untangled himself from you.

“I’d like to see you try,” you grinned, feeling quite pleased with yourself.

“I take that as a challenge. I for one would love to finally have a date during the day. As much as I love spending every night with you it’s quite exhausting and I already have a tendency to fall asleep during class, so this is not going to bode well for me.”

“You’d love to spend every night with me? Is that a promise?” you asked jokingly. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Ominis grinned and placed another quick kiss on your lips.

[simbib]

It's finally time!!!

Xmas has finally come and gone, and the time is here to FINALLY share my giant project with you all.

BEHOLD

THE FRUITS OF 200h OF LABOR

FULLY CUSTOM DICE BOXES!!!

Every single box was made completely from scratch, from flat sheets of balsa to the fully assembled beauties you see.

Each box was a gift and is hand bound in brown pleather to resemble a tome with custom covers based on the interests of my friends.

The boxes open from the center with two hinges, and both the right and left halves are equally deep so the boxes lay flat on a surface when opened. The interiors are lined with felt and have one large tray on the interior left hand side to roll the dice, and have six partitioned cubbies on the right hand side to store your dice in.

Since the boxes are equally deep on both halves, the dice would fall out if not protected, so the right hand side of the boxes each have a unique, inset wooden divider door that pressure fits on top of the dice cubbies, keeping them firmly shut when travelling or when the boxes are not in use. And, since the rolling tray is hollow, it can be used to store pens and paper or dice towers as well!

Most of the partition doors are secured to the inside of the box with a hinge made out of a folded over ribbon that is glued into a carved out hollow on the inside left edge of the doors. They also have magnets installed along the inside right edge that connect with small studs inside the dice trays to confirm they stay firmly shut. One of the doors has different fabric hinges, but those fell apart a bit quickly so I had to find a more secure way to attach them.

I'm immensely proud of how all these turned out. They came out almost exactly how I imagined them. I've learned so much while working on them, both about my own capabilities and tenacity but also just on the general construction of the boxes. The next one I make will be so much easier, and will probably be even better!

My only regret is that I gave all of them away- and didn't make one for myself!!

The creation of these boxes was inspired hugely by this amazing video by Kobold's Craft on youtube (with my own spin!):

I've added more details and more pictures of each box under the cut if you want to take a look 😃

1) The Tyranid Box

This box was made for one of my oldest friends. He's got a huge warhammer 40k army full of tyranids, so I themed his box to match his army! His was overall the easiest to create, because the vision was very clear to me from the start.

2) The Ork Box

This box was made for another close friend, who is my fellow DM for our shared TTRPG group. He recently was inspired by my Tyranid friend to start a warhammer army, and since he didn't really have a paint scheme figured out for his army I winged it a little. This was the 2nd most challenging design, as the Orks by nature are very crude and don't really care much for beauty. How do you show their chaotic nature while creating something beautiful? But I think it worked out well!

3) The Tarot Box

This box also came together quite nicely, and was gifted to a friend I reconnected with when I moved to my new city. He usually plays casters and elves in DnD, so I wanted the book to feel like an oracle/high fantasy/tarot inspired fancy spell-caster's tome, while maintaining his playful nature by making the interior Portal themed. The cover for this box took me by FAR the longest, as the hand stitching was very complex.

4) The Music Box

This one was another clear yet challenging design. This is one for my DnD crew, and I knew he liked audio engineering and music, so the cover was clear cut. The interior door was also an easy one, but when it was done I felt it was much too plain... when I shared my predicament with a coworker, she suggested that since he played a bard, I should add some arcane symbols on the door! It was just what was needed to tie this box together, and I'm really happy with the end result!

5) The Druid Box

This one was probably the most difficult to design, mostly because this was designed based on the character this DnD friend was playing at the time (and is playing still). The character is an elf druid who is high all the time and let me tell you the urge to make the cut out on the inside a marijuana leaf was astronomical. But I wanted the box to be a bit more versatile so I went with some puppy paw prints instead, since he has a dog!

6) The Faerie Box

While all the boxes were mostly assembled at the same time, any box that I needed to do some experimentation on I did it with this box. This one was given to a friend I made in my new city. I'm really happy with this one, and they were happy to receive it as well!

And there you have it!

That was my huge project! I'm glad I came across that dice box video by Kobold's Craft since it provided me with the method to the madness.

I poured my heart and soul (and blood and tears and. lots of blood. i cut myself often) into these books and everyone was super happy with them.

I learned so much and I can't wait to make some more- with all the knowledge that I gained from these!

The time breakdown is roughly as follows: - 60h to cut, glue, sand, stain and assemble the boxes - 50h to hand sew the embroidery on all the boxes - 20h to add the felt interiors - 20h to paint all the boxes - 30h to design, carve, sand, stain, paint, cure and assemble the cubby doors - 20h of research, design, purchasing and various other things I needed to do lol

I'm thinking of making a tutorial video on how to make these... 🤔

Stay tuned! Happy new year!!

[meimi-haneoka]

Hello! I'm the not-word-good anon from earlier who should've gone to sleep before sending that ask XDThing is, I don't think Kaito tried to hurt anybody but one person. First of all, the danger of the artifact seems (from how I understood it) to come from the accumulated magic being dangerous specifically to the non-magical Akiho, not that it's inherently designed to harm. It's just a side-effect. (1/5)

Awwww hello anon, thank you for replying to me again!! First of all I want to apologize for the delay (again) of my reply, truth to be told I had started replying to you already yesterday......and then....due to a mistake, I ended up losing everything I had written, and it was a long ass reply (as probably this one will be, let's see if I have the patience to re-write all of that 😂). Unfortunately the auto-save wasn't turned on so here I am, typing everything once again from scratch! I also want to thank you for your nice words (about 'what I do', I just really try my best to spread my love for this series) and I'm really glad to know that my posts have encouraged you to come out of your silence and theorize about the story!! I appreciate a lot the enthusiasm and passion that I can feel from your words, so will you allow me to reply even if we might not agree on all aspects? Is that okay? (Also, I hope I received all the intended asks because there are some numbers missing, hahah)

Let's start from the beginning, Akiho's artifact. I think we have a differing idea of how the spell that the Association and the Squids have imposed on Akiho works. Maybe it's also due to the official ENG translation, I have checked that part and that chapter/scene in particular was translated with lots of inaccuracies, so maybe that's why. If you can, I suggest you to look for Impatient Scans' translation of chapter 35 (where we find out about the ritual through Sakura's experience), you can still find it on sites like Manganelo. Impatient Scans always did such a perfect job with their translations (see, it's not that I'm against any translation that is not mine: they really did a wonderful job, sticking to the original text and meaning as much as possible, and it's really telling that a fan scanlation did a better job than the official one but was forced to interrupt due to copyright reasons) so I totally recommend reading their version till the last chapter they released.

Back to us, and the artifact. Basically, the spell they decided to use on Akiho in that ritual is first of all considered a taboo spell, for evident moral reasons, but not only: its purpose is to turn a human being into a magical artifact. And it's so taboo that it ends up being dangerous even for the casters: we find out later, in fact, that both the Association and the Squids had some members losing forever the ability to perform certain magics as a consequence of having participated to that cursed ritual. The purpose of the artifact is indeed inherently harmful for the bearer, because its goal is to hoard and inscribe on the body of the bearer as many magic spells (obtained from magic books) as possible. And it's specifically said by Kaito that one of the effects of this spell is to crush the soul of the bearer. You have to imagine the body of the bearer as a container with a small balloon inside, representing the person's soul: what happens if you keep stuffing that space with more and more things, till you reach the limit? At one point, the balloon (= the soul) will break. Poof. Disintegrate. That's what got Kaito so on edge and so desperate for this whole time. Because that's a kind of death, per se. A body without a soul is like a walking corpse. Akiho wouldn't have been Akiho anymore. And the spell is specifically designed to obtain that effect because a magic artifact is so much easier to control if the human hosting it doesn't have a soul, a conscience. So it's apparent that, regardless of the bearer having magic or not, the artifact would've obtained that effect anyway. Even if it was passed on Sakura after a switch. And Kaito knew of this, that's why I don't agree on the fact that he would've passed it to Sakura nonchalantly.

Indeed, Kaito turned out to act precisely as you said: he attracted all the distrust and rage on him, but he didn't care, as long as he could bring to completion the only thing he genuinely ever wanted in his life - to keep Akiho safe and happy, without harming anyone in the process. Kaito unfortunately was "stinking" of self-immolating tendencies since long time, particularly for the past he had. Even just seeing how he used time magic without any regard for his life was already an indication that he didn't intend to get out of this alive. My comments on your predictions: 1) It's true that Nadeshiko's watch disappeared after the time rewind, so we don't know exactly where it ended up to, but as the Time Card was created with that appearance, it probably went inside that Card.

2) About Rika meeting Akiho, please keep in consideration that the JP text (differently from the ENG) only said that memories were rewritten by Kaito, not the actual facts or reality. Surely, discrepancies changed some things as to accomodate Akiho into the Kinomoto's household, but from how I interpreted things, this is just a giant hallucination everyone is under, for the effect of the forbidden spell. So it's entirely possible that things up to the point of the enforcement of the spell STILL happened exactly as they happened, but after the spell was activated, everyone's memories (and certain things like the costumes, roles etc) were changed to accomodate for the outcome Sakura and Kaito wished for (the change of the roles in the play, and Akiho being born as Sakura's sister). Because, as I've seen someone pointing out in the fandom, if the entire fabric of reality was rewritten, the artifact itself wouldn't even exist to begin with. Instead, we sadly know that Kaito had to take it into himself, with all the crushing spells (another indication that the artifact is harmful for whoever takes it in: Momo told Kaito that it would be harmful for him precisely in this chapter). This also makes things relatively "easier" if the kids want to reject this situation/break this spell and go back to normal. One thing is retrieving their true memories, another is to mess with reality itself. Also your point 4), Lilie's ring should be with Momo right now. We have seen Akiho's mother placing it on Momo's ear in the flashback, and it's represented by Momo's crown (which she didn't have before receiving that ring from her) in her true form.

Your point 5) is actually very interesting: while I do think that the dragon might be a representation of the seal imposed on Kaito, that same dragon was also depicted on the cover of the book where supposedly the Squids and Association took the ritual to turn Akiho into an artifact from. So yeah, we might have more surprises from here on out!

[fairy-lights-and-blobs]

Idea:

The Phandom really likes giving Danny a lot of titles.

Chief among them being The Balance, and The Bridge Between Life and Death.

Danny can see the unseen.

Tiny blob Ghosts that can't yet get strong enough to be visible flock to the ecto in his aura. So al along the day Casper High see Danny start giggling at random times, for no reason. They think he's finally gone mad.

Until, just as Lancer is considering calling him out on it, right in front of the whole class, the little blobs finally charge enough to vibe visible, and suddenly Danny is absolutely COVERED in tiny blob ghosts, chirping and wiggling against his neck and in his hair, and trying to crawl under his shirt because they're curious about how clothes work.

A collective "Ah, that would explain it" moment for everyone in that classroom.

Small ghostly rodents and birds chase each other around his ankles and head. One particularly brave starling nestles in his hair for a bit, until a small natural portal opens up and it flies away after it's companions.

He comes across a pregnant lady in the store, and while her husband helps get that baby carrier they've been eyeing down from the upper rack, she sees this twig of a kid with green glowing eyes waving at her. So naturally she waves back, but he's not looking at her. He looks at her baby, kicking away like the energetic ball of sunshine they are, and whispers a blessing at her before leaving

"Was that the Fenton kid?"

"Uh...yeah...? I think he just blessed us or something? I think he was waving at the baby?"

"You think he can see them?"

At school, hes the only one who's allowed to go anywhere near the group of trees the local crowd have taken over as their nesting grounds, and he keeps feeding them, and praising their hatchlings...while they're still in the egg.

I think Danny should get to see the dead that joined his people in the Realms, and those about to be born, especially those that are former ghosts but being reincarnated into another life.

Can you imagine being the couple that is set to raise Ember's next life?

Or better yet, Pariah Dark?

You go to sleep in the arms of your dear Beloved, and in your dreams you see the Personification of Sleep and Dreams that took the whole city under their spell once.

No biggie, you and everyone e else has seen Nocturne in a dream before, and woke up just fine the next day.

Except this time he's joined by...you assume it's Phantom, but he looks made of stardust, and galaxies, and there's twin quasars that swirl contemplatively. He's barely anything-shaped, and looks more like he'd fit in somewhere like Bloodborne, or on the cover an H.P. Lovecraft book.

Wings unfurl and peacock feathers stare at you with eyes that glimmer like gemstones, and the galaxies rotate, singing in conjunction between Sleep and Space.

And they come with a message.

"Pariah Dark, former Ghost King, has been dethroned, as you know."

Yeah, who could forget the time when the whole city got pulled into the Ghosts' dimension?

Nocturne picks up where Phantom stops.

"The Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep has proven...ineffective at dealing with the problem permanently. Therefore the Ancients have gathered, to find alternatives."

Ok, making sense so far. If it don't work, try a new option.

"Phantom, among others, has put forth the option of attempting to rehabilitate Pariah, and rebirth has the potential for the best results. Therefore, parents must be chosen. And, at Phantom's behest, you have been considered and found to be ideal."

Wait, what? Phantom said what?! Confusion abounds, and you have no fucking clue WHY the local hero would consider you a good mother to a dead Tyrant!!!!

"I don't know if you remember this, but...I remember when I'd just started out, and had no idea what was going on or what I could even do." Space curls in on itself, and Phantom solidifies in front of you...scratching at his neck like an anxious kid. "The reason why I mentioned you, among our options, as the best candidate, is because I remember when you found me...and I was mid-breakdown after a really rough fight. You didn't hesitate. You saw a kid needing help, and you set aside all the anti-ghost stuff, and hugged me until I was ok."

And oh, yeah, now you remember that. It had seemed like the natural thing to do at the time. If there's a kid having an panic attack, you do your best to help them through it. You did it before for one of your little cousins. Evidently, it meant so much more to this kid.

"You seem like a genuinely good person. Not because you're perfect every day. But because you naturally choose kindness whenever you can. And that's rare. Very rare, and you don't have to accept. I know it's a big responsibility, to raise the former Ghost King's reincarnation. But I just had to as least ask, right? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, or whatever?"

Phantom's starting to ramble, so you cut him off by resting your hand on his head and scratching like he's a small cat.

"Count me in, kiddo."

"You're accepting?"

"I mean, we've been trying for a kid, so this comes at the right time. But if the baby stars glowing or making me float, I'm borrowing Skulker's tech and hunting you down for sport until you help me get all the ghost stuff under control."

where's my Danny that can see the ghosts no one else can see.

where's my Danny constantly watching all the spirits of little rodents and roadkill roaming the town, the ones that aren't strong enough to manifest to the point to be seen by humans, but can definitely be seen by a fellow ghost.

where's my Danny being able to see and smell the auras of all the humans around him to the point where he can pinpoint someone's exact emotion without even speaking to them.

where's my Danny that can hear all the otherworldly sounds human ears fall deaf to.

where's my Danny that people give funny looks to bc they see him bending down and talking to thin air.

where's my Danny who's the only one able to perceive these things and see beyond the veil?

[marsbutterfly]

Deal With The Devil

Summary: While playing around with a Ouija board, you end up summoning an Incubus.

Part 2 | Wattpad! | Ao3! | Word Count: 8.2k | Eren Yeager x Reader

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: nsfw, fem! reader, oral sex (m! & f! receiving), multiple cream pies, breeding kink, mentions of blood (because you scratched him so hard), humping, deep throating, throat fucking, vaginal sex, tail fucking (he fucks you with his tail), cunnilingus, demons, cum licking, cum play, praising, NOT BETA READ.

"This isn't working!" The black-haired girl exclaimed. "How many more times are you going to try?" She asked, throwing her hands in the air in annoyance. You had been trying to make contact with the other side for the past hour or so.

The atmosphere around you is heavy and you begin feeling pressure on your chest, nearly stopping you from breathing but even so, you decide to push through. You shrug your shoulders and lace your own fingers together, cracking them in the process.

"Until it works.” You respond, taking her hand in yours. She rolls her eyes but decides to ultimately go with it, though she does remove your palm from hers, placing both of her index and middle fingers on the pointer. You copy her movements.

Closing your eyes, the two of you focus on the energy you want to bring into the room, a positive one, in the hopes of attracting a good spirit.

“Is there anyone here that would like to make contact with us?” You say and Mikasa scoffs, reluctant to believe that any of this would work even remotely. The most that happens is a flicker of the candlelights.

“y/n.” Mikasa drags out the last letter of your name. Tired of her being skeptical about the whole situation, you bring your fingers through the page of the very old book she found at a weird garage sale, closing it in the process.

The black-haired girl sighs, letting go of the object and adjusting the cross necklace that rests around her neck. A few seconds go by and she stands up, adjusting her skirt and wiping away any fuzz that might be attached to her black outfit.

You don’t say anything and simply watch as Mikasa pouts, jaw clenched shut as she gathers her things.

“Look, you can keep the board.” She says, pointing down at the object. “But I have somewhere else to be.”

“Going on a date with…” You begin to say and she shoots you a glare, any sound that might want to come out dies in your throat.

“Don’t even start.” She threatens and you raise your hands, defeated. From inside her purse, she pulls out a dark-colored lipstick, either a very deep blue or black. The tint goes through her lips with ease and she moves them, making sure to spread it evenly.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” You ask, a little nervous.

“We said the prayer of protection. It’s fine.” She brushes off your concerns. When her hand touches the doorknob, she looks back at you. “Tell me if you get in contact with anyone.”

“Mikasa!” You scream for her but it’s too late, she is already gone. A sigh is the only sound you make, accepting that she is not coming back and has left the entire mess for you to clean. Shaking your head, you decide to continue the session.

Using your index and middle finger from both hands, you touch the pointer with the tips of your digits. You shut your eyes before taking in a deep breath, when you open them again, you realize that your heart has begun to race.

“This is a terrible decision but…” You hesitate for a moment, pondering every life choice you have ever made that has brought you to this moment. Ultimately, you decide to continue the sentence. “I would like to speak to a spirit, preferably a demon.”

The cold night wind rushes through the open window and it causes you to tremble. The pointer moves gently but it doesn’t spell out any words, it is merely a twitch. The urge to throw it against the wall is intense but you are able to control yourself before doing so.

Since nothing happens, you decide to become bolder with your request.

“I would like to speak to a demon, right now.” You now demand and faintly you hear a giggle. You look behind you to find a spot on your covers moving, giving the impression that someone was sitting on it.

But nothing on the board so you sigh but before you give up, you decide to try one last thing, a final resource that might not work but then again, it just might be enough to get somebody to connect with you.

“I will do anything.” You bargain, “So present yourself to me, Demon.”

As the words come out of your mouth, a gush of air makes its way past you and it blows out all the candles that once illuminated your room. The window closes shut and you yelp, instinctively removing your fingers from the pointer and it begins to move on its own.

At first, you don’t realize what is happening but when it dawns on you, your heart nearly stops and your throat becomes completely dry. Your wish has been granted.

Black smoke begins to fill the room and you are unable to see for a solid minute, the sounds that the creature makes terrify you to your core but you can’t run, your legs simply won’t obey your commands. Trembling hands touch the board again as an ounce of your courage washes over you.

Once you finally open your eyes again, the candles are lit once more and this tall figure stands before you. He couldn’t be taller than 6’0”, his skin is the color bisque while his hair is a color you can’t quite decipher with the current lighting.

The horns on his head compliment his wings perfectly and you sigh, placing your elbow on your knee and simply watching the creature as he moves around, examining your room, curious about every little detail.

He is beautiful and you find yourself out of air when you make eye contact with him. His green eyes remind you of a natural emerald that has just been discovered, though a little darker than that.

He has a smile stamped on his face that could illuminate the darkest of rooms. Your eyes wander through his figure and you notice his black wings, the feathers rise up ever so lightly on the bottom and it gives an impression that he is flying.

The man’s outfit consisted of nothing but a pair of leather pants. No shoes, no shirt. You rush your thumb through the skin of your lips before biting on the surface gently, eyes shining with desire.

Finally, you find the courage necessary to speak and the words burst out of your chest with ease. “What’s your name?”

“Eren Yeager.” He responds, his voice being softer than you had expected though it was still a pretty deep sound. You stand up so you can be closer to his face.

"Why didn't you present yourself while Mikasa was still here?" You inquire, still starstruck by the beauty of the creature.

"I didn't like her vibe. She was too bitchy." The demon claims, walking around the room, his dark wings colored after the deep night sky bump against a table and drop the lamp that once rested above it on the floor. In response, he hisses at it.

“So what are you?” You ask and his attention goes back to you. He spreads his arms and wings at the same time, a devious smirk curling onto his lips.

“I’m an incubus.” He says, chest full of pride. “And I have chosen you to bear my children.”

“W-what?” You stutter, taking a few steps backward until you hit the edge of your bed, causing you to fall. A gush of air makes its way past you and you realize it is his wings flapping as he rushes toward you. He now pushes you down on the bed, one leg supporting the weight of his body on the floor while using his other knee to press against your pussy.

You gasp.

“You told me you would do anything if I revealed myself to you and so I did.” He responds to your question, one hand supporting his weight on the side of your body while the other goes to your chin, propping it up to force you to make eye contact with him.

“I didn’t think it was going to work.”

“Did you not mean it?” He asks, raising one of his eyebrows. You look away in embarrassment only to have your vision brought back to him by his finger as it slowly touches your chin. The skin on his digits is cold but the warmth of his breath makes it up for it.

As you stare into his eyes, your breathing becomes uneven and your lungs feel like they are near a collapsing point. Wetness pools in your underwear and you cross your legs to stop it from dripping down your legs.

His orbs go up and down through your body and you can’t help but feel a little too exposed so you pull down your skirt, barely covering an extra inch of your thighs. He brings his body down and his lips ghost above yours, not wanting to fully give in.

“Answer me.” He demands, his eyes now turning into a red shade as he grows angry (though that is not the right word, he was existing in a limbo of annoyance and boredom, hoping that you would be the one to help him get out of it.)

“No, I didn’t lie.” Your voice is quiet and it dies in your throat. Raising only one side of his lips, he smirks, the color of his eyes goes back to the emerald green you were so obsessed with, and Eren groans. “That’s just not what I was expecting.”

“Hush, now.” He coos, knee applying more pressure to your now aching core, a desire you can’t contain. Your cheeks burn and your mouth hangs open, tongue nearly touching your chin. He smiles, watching as you eagerly hook your fingers on the edges of his pants.

“What is happening to me?” You ask, pulling down the leather pants to reveal his 8 inches, thick cock. It springs out of the cloth with a certain ease and it makes your mouth water in response.

“That is a natural reaction to seeing an Incubus.” He explains calmly, “especially one as hot as me.” He says with his chest puffed, pride filling every word that comes out of his sweet, plumped lips.

“Will it ever stop?” You ask and it sounds more like a beg.

“I’m afraid it only stops when you are no longer in my presence.” He says, pulling his knee away and standing up in front of the edge of the bed. “I won’t do anything without your consent, though.”

“I consent.” You plead, “My dear lord, I consent. Please put me out of my misery.”

Once again, Eren smiles. He watches as your mouth hangs open and a few drops of saliva drip down on the side of your lips. You swallow a load of air and it dries out your throat and, while you do that, Eren throws his tight pants on the other end of the room.

As he is busy dealing with the cloth, you remove the top part of your outfit, revealing to the demon your bare breasts. It causes his cock to twitch in response and he can’t wait any longer for your touch.

“Get down on your knees and start sucking!” Eren ordered and, with a gentle touch, pushed you down.

You can barely contain yourself before wrapping your lips around one of his balls, sucking on it, the taste of his sweat heavy on your tongue. Letting go, you drag your tongue up along his thick shaft until it reaches the head of his cock.

Then, you proceed to wrap your lips around it, licking at the slit. Eren groans, both from the wet heat of your mouth and from the sight of a pretty, prissy mess eagerly sucking on a dirty demon cock.

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, sliding it up and down on both sides while jerking off the incubus. Finally, you take his entire length in your mouth once more, lips touching the skin of his hips while you gag, quietly.

Eren’s hand goes to the back of your head as he holds you in place and you lose your balance for a few seconds, having to reach for his pelvis. Tears now stream down your face as he enters your throat in one single thrust completely.

“Ah, yes. Like that.” He purrs and you shut your eyes, trying to stop them from watering with little to no success. “Relax, baby.”

You take a deep breath in through your nose and the muscles of your throat finally relax, allowing him to go even deeper this time around. Slurping sounds mix with shallow breaths you take while trying your best not to gag on his dick.

When finally he pulls it out, you kiss the tip of Eren’s cock, wrapping your lips around the side of the member, sticking out your tongue, and sliding down its length, covering it with saliva.

“Again,” Eren instructed. “All of it, in one go! Until you gag yourself with my cock.”

You did not hesitate to obey. You opened your mouth wide and took him inside. Inch by inch, you moved your head lower and lower. Eren felt a resistance when the head of his cock reached the back of your throat, though you did as you were commanded and pushed through, stuffing your throat with the demon’s member in one go.

Arms now behind your back, you stand still while Eren’s cock twitches inside of your warm mouth. “Ah fuck -” He groaned, his fingers gripped the hair at the back of your head when you just stayed there, suckling on his cock and not pulling away.

You open your eyes to peak at his pleasured face, his eyes glued to your now wet eyelashes as you hum in delight, causing his cock to vibrate. Finally, the salty taste of his pre-cum begging to slide down your throat and you realize he is getting close.

“Fuck, y/n, I’m gonna -” Eren tried to warn you, but instead of moving away, you push him in even deeper into your throat and, before he realizes it, he is coming into the warmth and velvet sensation your mouth provides him with.

Most of it shot into your throat, but whatever remained was gently sucked off as you pulled back and released him with a wet pop. You wiped the corner of your mouth before swallowing heavily and looking up at Eren.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to get a taste of your delicious pussy.” He exclaims, picking up the messy version of you he has left on the floor up and roughly throwing you on the bed.

Eren proceeds to pull you forward by the hip while taking off your skirt and panties in the process. He throws them at the corner of the room, alongside his own clothing. A few drops of his cum still on your chest, he bends down, licking them in the process.

Your breathing is irregular and your throat aches but you crave for more. Eren uses his middle and ring fingers to go through your soaked slit, earning a gasp out of you when they go inside. Your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure and you move your hips, indulging him to go a bit further in.

Sadly for you, he pulls out his fingers and brings them closer to his own lips, he takes a whiff of your smell before placing them into his mouth, taking in the delicious taste you provide for him.

“Hmmm.” He hums, shifting himself so his body is now on top of yours. His hypnotizing eyes focus on yours as he places one arm on each side of your torso, his long hair draping on your face before he sits back on your pussy and places it up in a bun.

Once he is ready, he brings his lips towards your neck to begin giving the area his undivided attention. He nibbles on your skin roughly, leaving behind a few marks before he starts making his way down his body.

Kisses and nibbles go down your body, through the valley of your breasts, through your stomach, and, finally, reach the area above your pussy. From there, he shifts actions from kisses to licks, fully taking in your pubes. But his tongue is so long that it touches your clitoris without any struggle.

Eren moved his face lower, just mere centimeters from your slit. You could feel his breath graze your most sensitive spot. To Eren, you had, quite literally, a divine body, and he took every chance he could to take all of it in.

He uses the tip of his tongue to thoroughly examine the area, above the cloth of your underwear, one hand pulling the clothing piece to the left while the other is spreading your folds apart while the other raises to your bare chest to playfully touch your nipples, twisting them lightly. Your arch your back in response.

Both of your hands are grabbing at his shoulders to hold him down and you can feel it in the way he is breathing that he is smiling. Your head hangs back while your back remains arched and Eren continues to lick the area, tongue going inside of you to drag out some of the wetness.

The wet, sloppy sounds of his mouth messing with your body reached your ears, blessing you along with the warmth of his lips and a trail of saliva that connected your two bodies. His mustache is now covered in your juices and you look away in embarrassment.

Your cunt is begging for him, for more of his sweet touch that is so intoxicating, it should be considered a drug. Even if his own pleased groans were muffled by the work of his mouth, he was perfectly capable of hearing how your deep gasps and pleading moans resonated in the walls of the room.

With a soft pressure, Eren slipped his finger deep inside of you, satisfying you for a split second until you decided that you needed much more than just that. Rubbing just one finger against your clit, Eren controlled himself, keeping his pace slow and steady.

“You taste as good as you look,” he teased you with two fingers then, rubbing harder circles over your pussy until a strangled sigh escaped you.

After the words fall from his lips, he continues to put his mouth to a better use. Nose rubbing against your clitoris while his tongue goes through your opening, two fingers deep inside of you while they move in the same way as a scissor.

“Oh, Eren.” You cry out, fingers going through his hair while undoing his bun. His mustache tickles you ever so lightly and you shrug, forcing his fingers (and a wave of your juices) out. He doesn’t waste any time and comes right back in.

Once your walls begin to tighten around him, he knows you are done for. So he begins suckling on your clit, your pussy attempting to expel him though he doesn’t give into it easily. Eren continues his movements until he hears a little whining sound dragging from the back of your throat. “Come for me.”

“Fuck,” You lost control of yourself, frantically grabbing at the headboard to push yourself against Eren’s face, wrapping yourself around him until the only daylight between you two was where his hand was pumping into your pussy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You repeat a few more times.

Eren eagerly continues to lick through your pussy, swallowing every last drop you present him with. He brings his wet hands up to your mouth, touching your lips while silently asking for permission to place them in.

Running your tongue along his fingertips, your eyes darkened at him with an indescribable lust, a mischievous smirk on his lips as you sucked the juices out of his digits, heat emanating from your mouth.

When he finally stops moving his tongue, he pulls himself together, body crashing on top of yours while your arm rests underneath him. His hips buckle forward and he begins humping your leg, his hard cock rubbing against your skin as he searches for release.

“Fuck me.” You plead and he smiles. He shifts and now his arm rests underneath your body and he flips you over as if you weighed nothing and you are now standing on top of him. Both hands touch his chest while your wet core rubs against his cock through your underwear.

He groans, hands tracing the skin of your thighs towards your hips where his nails begin to dig into your dips. Eren guides your movements as you continue to bump on his lap, hair gluing to the side of his head due to the sweat.

Bodies rocking back and forth, you press down harder against his erection with the purpose of hearing the beautiful symphony that comes from deep within his throat, it causes you to shiver. It’s a sinful situation and it feels so dirty and wrong, but it couldn’t be because of how good it felt.

Eren pulls your underwear to the side, so your wetness is touching his skin. You roll your hips over and over, soft at Eren’s hushed whimpers and feverish movements. The tip of his cock barely missing his belly button while you rub your wet pussy along the shaft, jerking him off with your core.

As you squish his cock in between your folds, his hand begins to guide your movements so you are going even faster than before. Pre-cum begins to leak through and you notice that he has his eyes closed, focusing on the sensation you are giving him.

Before you realize it, he is bucking his hips up in search of more contact with you, he is searching for an orgasm wave and he wants you to be there alongside him when it hits.

Eren places his thumb on top of your clit, rubbing gentle circles on the area to drag breathless moans out of you. His eyes glow with desire, a fire that could only be compared to the hot pits of the hell he came from.

You begin quickening your pace, the cloth of your underwear rubbing against his cock, and the scratchy sensation nearly drives him mad. He brings his thumb towards his lips, licking the digit before placing it above your clit once more.

“Like that, Eren.” You whisper, hands holding your body up on his chest for dear life.

“Say my name again.” He says and it sounds more like a demand than a request. With the full intention of being a brat, you push your bottom lip forward in a mocking manner. You breathe out of your nose roughly, chest rising and falling. “Now.”

“I forgot what your name is,” You respond, making an inquisitive face to dumb yourself down. When his hand stops touching your hard clit, your mouth hangs open and, as a sign of protest, you stop moving your hips.

He brings one hand to your back, slowly dragging a few moans out of you. Ultimately, his palm rests open on your ass and, before you have time to say anything else, he brings it away before slapping your buttock, watching closely as it jiggles.

Your breathing stops for a second and you nearly lose your balance. “Did you remember now or do I need to do it again?”

“I guess you need to do it again,” You respond, “Maybe leaving a mark would help.”

He smirks a lust-filled grin before repeating the action, this time applying more force to it. You jolt forward and end up falling, his face right in between your breasts as he takes in a deep breath, appreciating the smell of your skin.

“Having fun?” You ask, teasingly. In response, he simply nods. You start moving your hips once more and he pushes you up once again, the look on his face of pure bliss. “Oh, Eren.”

“There you go.” He says and you notice that his tail is wagging underneath his ass as his name falls from your lips. It’s adorable. “Shit, if you keep doing that…”

“I’m gonna come.” You finish his sentence while finding a fast and rhythmic pace. Eren’s hand returns to your aching clitoris as he continues to rub circles around the bud, desperately craving for you to come at the same time as him.

Finally, you feel the warmth of his cum overflowing the area and coming in contact with your underwear. The wet sensation alone was enough to milk yet another orgasm out of you, pelvis locking in place as your body shakes.

You scratch his chest, leaving behind red marks and a small trail of bruises, his eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure.

Your fluids overflow from the underwear onto his cock and it sends shock waves down his body to his toes, when he curls them to try and make the spasms more manageable. Your head hangs low as you try to catch your breath, Eren’s hands digging through the stretch marks on your thighs.

“Lick it.” He demands, using his chin to point down at the small pool of cum that is left on his stomach. Immediately, you get off of his lap and place your hands on each side of his abdomen, with your eyes locked on his, you rush your tongue through the white liquid, slurping every last drop of it.

Eren uses one of his hands to touch your hair, moving it to the other side of your head to prevent it from falling into his cum. With the other, he caresses your cheek, thumb brushing through your skin and you smile.

You swallow every last drop, with every lick you can tell that the smirk on his lips grows wider and, once you have drunk the entirety of the liquid, you begin licking down the trail of hairs underneath his belly button, slowly moving towards his throbbing cock.

“Going again?” He asks and you nod, one hand grabbing his balls while the other grips tightly around his dick. He gasps, placing his right arm behind his head for support while his eyes are fixated on you.

“I don’t know what is going on,” You tell him, “I can’t control myself.”

He laughs. “It’s because you are in the presence of an Incubus, that brings out your sex maniac side.”

“Then don’t go.” You whisper, slapping his cock against your cheek a couple of times and he moans, “Let’s keep having sex.”

“Your wish is my command.” He says, “Now suck me off again. I can’t get enough of you.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip of his cock while using your hand to jerk him off, tongue wrapping around the sensitive area as you suck on it. You continue like that for a few seconds, appreciating the taste of his cum.

With every flick of your tongue, you push it deeper into your throat and resist the urge to gag. It’s thick, thicker than you are used to, so it fills your larynx nicely. You don’t stop until your lips meet the skin of his hips.

Eren watches closely as you choke yourself on his cock, his legs are spread open to make it easier for you to stand on the bed with him.

You resume to the first position, plumped lips wrapped around his cock, much like he has you wrapped around his finger. He shifts positions every so gently only to make sure that his tail has enough room to move.

He uses it to caress your exposed ass, the tip of his tail gliding down towards your soaked pussy as he threatens to place it inside. You smile with his cock in your mouth and nod, giving him the consent he so desperately craved.

With a yelp coming from your throat, he begins using it to touch your exposed clit, the hums coming from your throat radiate through his cock and it vibrates against your sealed lips. You bring your hand back to the shaft and resume your position, jerking him off.

He uses the pointy, though velvety, tip of his tail to poke around the area a little bit, helping you explore new sensations you never could have imagined existed.

Eventually, you feel his hand grabbing a fist full of your hair as he begins to guide your mouth down the shaft of his dick, never once slacking on the warm sensation he applies to your bud. The deeper his cock goes into your throat, the more attention he pays to your clit.

Your walls tighten lightly and a build-up of your fluids is expelled, dripping down through your folds before reaching your clit and Eren takes the opportunity to use it as a lubricant and place the tip inside of you ever so gently.

You gasp and he pulls away, scared that his actions have injured you.

With a popping sound, you remove him from your mouth, “It’s ok.”

He nods, his tail moving back to its original position in front of your core before pushing it past your folds, it somehow feels just like the tip of his cock and you can’t help but let out a loud moan in the process.

He slowly curls the tip of his tail, teasing pressure against your hole. His nose scrunched up in concentration as he fed more of his tail into your tight opening. The base of his spine where his tail began started to ache from overuse.

The tail inside of you becomes more forceful, working your hole hard, plunging deep, spreading you wide while you try to focus on moving your tongue around it, keeping him constantly on the pleasurable plateau of orgasm. Your mouth runs over with saliva as his cock seems content to make its home there.

Your lips move further down the shaft, eventually touching his hips once more. You finally relax your throat and he, somehow, makes it even deeper, the slime sensation of his pre-cum leaking down and you can feel as you begin to get closer to an orgasm of your own.

“y/n,” He says your name like a prayer, “y/n, please don’t stop.”

When you finally start moving your mouth muscles so you are sucking down on his cock, he knows he is done for, so he speeds up the movements of his tail, going slightly further in than before and it nearly drives you insane. You have to grip onto the bed sheets tightly to try and make yourself stable.

He hisses one last time and, with a push down on the back of your head, you feel his warm cum sliding down your throat. At the same time, your walls contract against his tail and you shut your eyes, focusing on not falling over.

Your body expels his tail in one single push as you swallow his seed completely. Once you are done drinking, you remove his cock from your mouth with a pop sound and open your mouth to show him your empty tongue.

“Good girl.”

“Will you finally put your cock inside of me?” You ask with pleading eyes, the tip of your fingers going through the veins of his throbbing dick. He removes his tail from inside of you.

“So vulgar.” He says but ultimately nods, pulling you so your body is laying on top of his before he flips you over, stomach down on the bed while he has a perfect view of your ass.

You can feel as his curious hands wander around your body before they spread you open like a book as he, without the use of his hands, guides himself towards your entrance. He struggles for a few seconds but refuses to ask you to place your legs in a different position.

“Ask for me.” He tells you as you cross your arms and place your chin on top of your wrists.

“Eren,” You begin, “Fuck me.”

You don’t need to say it again, he slides his wet (in a mixture of your saliva and his cum) cock into your pussy slowly, appreciating how it perfectly stretches you so your body can get used to his length.

Fully inside you, your walls started to flutter around him before he had even started moving. All this built-up tension begged to be released and you knew that it wouldn't take long for you to come undone. However, Eren let you wait a little while longer, still not moving.

At that moment, your pussy has been aching for his cock for so long that you decide to put an end to it, so you push your ass down on him and then back up, you repeat the process for a few seconds while fucking yourself on him.

If he won’t do it, then you will.

“That’s good.” He hisses, “Oh shit, that’s really good.”

You pout, “Please, fuck me!” You raise your voice and he laughs.

Fear that he might not move fills you once more and your heart begins to race faster, but finally, he begins to buckle his hips.

The sensation of your tightness wrapped around his cock dulls his mind. The ability to form a coherent sentence has long left you. Eren knows how good he is making you feel by the way your hips move in perfect synchronicity with him. The craving for his nearness is overwhelming, your bodies finally merging.

Your heart beats in your pussy and he can feel the sensation, your mouth hangs open, waiting, longing for a moment where he would take down the strong facade and pull you by the chin for a kiss but that moment never comes.

Instead, he does pull you by the chin but only so your eyes will meet his while he pulls his cock out of you before bringing it back in, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass filling the room and you are surprised nobody has come to complain yet.

The two of you weren’t necessarily being quiet.

A feral grin spread across Eren’s features and he slapped your ass one more time, squeezing it for good measure. His mouth found its way to your jaw, raking his teeth over the soft skin, biting and sucking on it hard enough that it would definitely leave bruises in the morning.

He even went further up to bite on your earlobe, earning himself a moan in reward. “I want to completely ruin you.”

“Then do it.” You beg. Eren’s head falls down to the space in between your shoulder blades, forehead against the sweat of your back as he continues to furiously pound into you, the way he fills you up, how big he is, how his wings spread when he is starting to get close, every detail about him was beautiful

As you look at him, you notice that the messy bun he has his hair in is becoming looser by the second, rebellious strands fall on his face and become glued to his temples due to the sweat that pools in the area.

“Look at me.” You yearn, if he isn’t going to kiss you then the very least he could do is look you in the eyes as he fuck you. He obeys and you notice that his mustache still has some of your juices stuck to it, all you want to do is lick it.

So you wrap one arm behind his neck and pull him closer, tongue going through the hairs on his face, a perfect mixture of your pussy juice and his sweat forming the most delicious thing you have ever tasted in your life.

Eren reaches for the headboard with one hand while the other guides your hips back and forth. Every so often, his cock will slip out and you will let out an annoyed grunt in response but it doesn’t last for long, he refuses to not be inside of you.

There was a seductive look on your face as you looked at him over your shoulder. A lurid spark to your eyes as your lips curl upwards. He begins to slow his pace and quietly pump his hips, dragging the moment for as long as he can while his cock scrapes slightly against the tight, gripping walls with each motion.

The sound of flesh over flesh echoes through the nearly empty room and, with the intensity Eren applies, the bed ends up hitting against the wall roughly and a few of your items fall from the shelf and the bedside table.

You throw your head back and it collides with Eren’s forehead, his movements become sloppier and you realize he is getting close. His wings are spread open as he plants kisses along your skin, nibbling on it even.

“Come for me, Eren.” You tell him in a hushed voice and he moans your name.

One final intense pump and you can feel as his seed begins to flow inside of you, filling you up. In response, your mouth gets open in the shape of an “o” and a few drops of saliva drip down the side of your face.

“There is so much.” You say, feeling as he pulls out of you. He strokes himself for a few seconds and a second wave of cum ropes shoots from his throbbing cock, falling onto your back and a few even getting in your hair.

“Your pussy is just that good.” He says, short of breath.

It takes him a second but when he realizes that you haven’t come yet, he flips you over on your back, your breasts jiggling up and down as he moves you. You don’t complain, your pussy still aches for more of his touch so anything he gives you is considered a blessing.

Eren starts to make his way down your body before pressing kisses into your thighs. Your flustered face watches him as he slowly makes his way to your crotch.

Carefully massaging your hips as you rock back to him silently, he urges you to get as close to you as he possibly can. He stops his soft massaging to finally yank out your underwear. The sudden movement makes you inhale sharply.

His tongue goes through your slit before he brings it back to lick his own lips in delight, the eagerness in his eyes is undeniable and you can’t wait to feel as he tastes you one more time, for good luck.

When he finally enters you, he does so in a slow rhythm, focusing on the loud sounds that it drags out of you. He wishes he could stay in that moment with you forever, but he enjoyed listening to you much more.

So he moves his tongue side to side, up and down, suckling on your clit while licking it at the same time. It’s basic physics: every action has an equivalent reaction. In this case, every time Eren found a new way to move his tongue, it would cause you to gasp for air and buckle your hips, or maybe a new sound would come out of your mouth.

Eren massages your velvety inner walls with his tongue, two fingers playfully rubbing your clit in between them. He slurps his own cum as your body expels it and, with each time he swallows, a hum escapes his lips.

Eren focuses on providing you with pleasure, his free hand reaching up your body to play with your erect nipples, hoping to expand the amount of pleasure you are receiving. You buckle your hips down and his tongue goes deeper inside of you.

“Fuck, Ren.” You breathlessly say, trying to pull yourself together as best as you can. He pulls his tongue away from your entrance to make a trail of saliva throughout your slit. While still pinching your clit gently, the tip of his tongue goes through the bud and you arch your back.

“Call me that again.” He urges before continuing the movements.

“Please, Ren, make me come.” You beg him and he nods, speeding up the process by moving his tongue at a faster pace. Your feet begin to slip on top of the comforter, trying to find a grip while Eren’s eager tongue searches for your release.

Finally, your hand goes through his hair and you pull at it, trying to ground yourself to reality while it feels as if your soul has just left your body when the orgasm hits, an intense wave washing over you as the tip of his tongue goes through the entirety of your pussy.

Your breathing is irregular and heavy, Eren watches closely as you try to pull yourself together. He wipes his mouth with the back of his right wrist before using it to support his head on your stomach, eyes sticking to you like glue.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, noticing that there is a shine in his eyes that wasn’t that before. For the first time, it isn’t lust or desire, it’s something far more personal, though you can’t exactly put your finger on what it is.

“You are just the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.” He says and finally, it hits you like a gut punch, the look in his eyes? First love. He is a demon, a creature that has never known love until the very moment he tasted your pussy. He became hooked.

Tugging at his arm, you push him so his body is laying on top of yours, the pressure of his warm body resulting in a wave of calmness and bliss washing over you.

It doesn’t last long, as soon as his eyes meet yours, the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach returns and you can’t think properly anymore, the only thought going through your brain is how badly you need him inside of you.

So you wrap one hand around the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss, but for whatever reason, he immediately stops your actions and, instead, flips you around yet again so that, this time, you are the one on top.

“Ride me.” He tells you and you gladly oblige.

You spit on your dominant hand before bringing it down to Eren’s eager cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it towards your empty pussy. You desperately crave the sweet relief that only he is able to provide you.

Once he enters you, your mind starts spinning in circles with delight.

You took a deep breath, whimpering as he slid out of you. Slowly, you sank back down on his cock, his tip hitting your cervix as you threw your head back. He pushed his hips up hitting your softest spot as you moaned in pleasure.

“Such a good girl.” He praised you, “I can’t wait to put more of my babies in you.”

Soon you were bouncing up and down on him as he kept guiding you. One of his hands came up to fondle your breasts, his thumb grazing your stiff nipple before he pinched it with his thumb and his index finger. “You look so beautiful like this.”

There was so much slick and leftover drool coating your pussy that lewd squelches echoed throughout the room with every powerful thrust. Eren’s hips were covered in it, and every time he pulled back, twitching cockhead spreading your pussy open, strands of the creamy gooey sweetness connected them.

Eren was addicted. Addicted to the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him, dripping with the previous load of his cum, addicted to the way his name can fall from your lips with such desire, and especially addicted to you.

“You are beautiful.” He purrs in your ear, his cock sliding inside of you once more and your fingernails dig into the skin of his back. You are unable to control your strength, so a black liquid, similar to blood, drips from the area where you scratched him. “Say my name.”

“Oh, Eren.” It falls from your lips.

“You are doing such a good job, baby.” He tells you, “You’re almost there, baby.”

As if a lightbulb has just come to life above your head, you reach for the area underneath your pillow only to pull out a black, covered in flower print vibrator. Without interrupting your movements, you screw the top to the left and it begins to do its job.

While one hand supports your body on his chest, the other holds the object up to your clit and your heartbeat quickens.

You increased your pace, chasing your end, his cock hitting your spot should render you all worn out and useless, but right now you wanted to please him more than anything and show him how strong and capable you were.

“So deep and big.” You whisper, brain barely working enough to form sentences. Your legs begin shaking on each side of his body and you realize you are no longer able to continue your movement, so Eren decides to meet you halfway and buckle his hips up to help.

“Do you like it, baby?” He asks, bringing his hand towards your backside with the intention of smacking your ass. He watches closely as your cheek jiggles after his hand collides with your skin.

“I love it.” You respond.

He planted his legs hard on the mattress and he held onto your hips. He hits your spot relentlessly until he has you cumming and milking his cock. You couldn’t hold yourself up and ended up collapsing on top of his chest as he kept fucking into you until he came, spilling his seed inside you, making you feel even more full.

Not a single thought is able to go through your brain, no words are able to come out, only a mixture of grunts and moans. You whined as he pulled out of you. You hoped he’d be inside you longer, so he could keep his cock and your insides warm while stopping his cum from leaking from inside of you.

“Shit!” He exclaims, trying to catch his breath. He laughs with glee while his fingers ghost the skin of your shoulders. Your head still hangs low on his chest and you try to listen for a heartbeat for a moment, not finding anything.

A moment of silence between the two of you takes place and it isn’t awkward in the slightest. It actually feels quite nice to be simply enjoying his body.

Your fingers go through the feathers of his wings, playing with the area until one of them comes loose. Taking it into your hands, you bring it closer to your face to fully analyze it: it’s a little shinier than the others and much darker.

“It’s a mating feather.” He explains and, when he notices the puzzled expression on your face, he continues, “It’s a present from me to you. If you accept it, it means you can only have sex with me.”

“I accept.” You respond in an instant, not even taking any time to think about it, not that you needed to.

“Good. I want you to be mine.”

“And yours alone, Eren.”

He places his thumb underneath your chin to bring it closer to his face. Finally, when you are a few inches away from him, he decides to seal the distance between your faces and give in to the kiss you have been craving from the moment you first laid eyes on him.

They haven't really moved their lips yet, but the second Eren starts, you feel your chest fill up with warmth. It's gentle and curious. Eren opens his mouth and traces the bow of your lips with his tongue.

What starts out as a gentle kiss turns into a lust-filled mess, his tongue going over yours while he gently nibbles on the tip, his nose bumping against yours while the hairs on his mustache tickle your face ever so lightly.

When he pulls away, you pout. Kissing him was everything you were imagining and you couldn’t wait until the next time he decided to kiss you.

You don’t have time to complain before he begins tracing his lips down your body, tongue going through your skin as he maps out his favorite parts of you. The fire in your stomach burns brighter and your breathing becomes irregular.

“How many more times are we doing this?” You ask, two fingers going through your wet and cum soaked slit before going back to your clit, legs bending as you begin to pleasure yourself while Eren brings his head up from in between your thighs, a mixture of his fluids and yours around his mouth.

“Until I’m satisfied.” He says, a shit-eating grin on his lips. You whine.

“Fuck.”

Tag List: @labacate / @ilovewoc / @maelartach / @bestruction / @wwillara / @numberfourismyaesthetic / @temptedbysyn

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒

Summary: Dean disappears during a hunt, when you find him again, hours later, in the woods he's ... different.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader

Warnings: blood, animals death, some disgusting descriptions

Word count: 1831

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A cooperation between a werewolf and a witch, those creatures never ceased to amaze you and not in a good way, you thought as you passed the body of the werewolf you just killed.

You had cut his head off his body and the pool of blood around him was spreading rapidly across the floor of the small house in the woods where he apparently lived with a witch.

You, Sam and Dean had left the bunker that morning to solve, and after a few questions to the citizens, you found out that weird alliance.

When you went into the woods and found that little wooden house, you knew it had to be theirs. You fought in the house with the werewolf while Sam and Dean dealt with the witch outside, in the back.

As you were about to leave the house, an open book placed on a table, caught your attention. You walked towards it, looking at its dusty pages.

"Verte hominem in lupinotuum." You read. By the years spent hunting you had learned enough Latin to be able to understand, the book was about the transformation into a werewolf.

"Non opus est tibi morsu, modo veneficae magicae." You kept reading, your mind translating the words quickly and your heart started beating even faster.

The words meant it didn't take a bite to transform a human, a witch's magic was enough. If the witch Sam and Dean were fighting had already devised the spell she was working on, things could get bad for them.

You walked out of the house, the cold of the night quickly getting into your bones, and headed for the back.

You could only hear the rustling leaves and an owl in the distance. The absence of sounds coming from the fight worried you, but you sighed in relief when you saw the lifeless body of the witch on the ground, the hole of a bullet in the middle of her skull.

Sam was standing there, with a few superficial scratches on his face and a gun in his hand, staring at you.

"Sam, where's Dean?" You asked looking around.

"I thought he went into the house, with you." He answered out of breath.

"No, Dean has been with you the whole time." You said, you could hear the panic in your own voice.

You've had feelings for Dean for years now but you've never talked about it to anyone because you knew he saw you as a little sister and you would rather have Dean as a friend than ruin your friendship by confessing an unrequited love.

"One second he was here with me fighting and ... the next he was gone." Sam said walking up to you.

"Okay, everything will be fine, we'll find him. Are you okay?" He asked you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded but you had a really bad feeling.

"Sam, you should see the book I found in the house." You murmured.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You had been looking for Dean for hours, calling his name as your voices boomed in the cold night. Between one and two in the morning, Sam said you weren't going to find him, at least not that night, and you went back to the motel.

"Y/N, whatever happened to Dean, we'll find him. We've been looking for him for hours and we both need to rest. Tomorrow morning, in the sunlight, we'll go back to the woods." Sam told you as he sat on his bed.

It had been weird to see Sam drive back to the motel. It had been weird not listening to the old songs that Dean always put in the car when you came back from a hunt and it had been weird not hearing Dean singing softly when he thought you and Sam were both asleep.

But it was not weird that, despite Dean was only missing for a few hours, you already felt an emptiness inside you, filled only by the worry of not being able to see him anymore, by the terror that something really bad could have happened to him.

It wasn't weird because you loved him and it didn't matter that you tried to hide it all those years, you loved him and needed him in your life as much as your lungs needed air. Even if he didn't know.

After a few moments lost in your thoughts, you realized that Sam had turned off the light and was lying on his bed, with his back to you.

"Y/N, try to get some sleep. We'll find him tomorrow." You heard Sam mutter before he fell asleep.

You sat on your bed for a few minutes, watching the moon's rays filter through the old motel room and light up slightly the empty bed where Dean was supposed to sleep on.

Something on it caught your attention, you got up trying not to make too much noise, approaching the bed and grabbing the FBI badges in your hands. They were yours and Dean's.

You smiled remembering the day you two created them, when you jokingly proposed the names "Agent Rogers" and "Agent Carter" and Dean actually used them.

You threw them back on the bed, snorting and thinking you wouldn't be able to sleep, even if you tried.

You looked at the dark, silent room one last time, then grabbed your jacket and walked out without making a sound.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"I've made a lot of shitty decisions in my life and this is definitively one of them." You whispered, talking to yourself as you wandered through the woods at three in the morning, alone, hugging yourself in your jacket to protect yourself from the cold.

The moonlight cast the shadows of the trees on the ground and each time it looked like a monster you had to hunt at least once in your life.

"Stop worrying. You're a hunter. And you're doing it for Dean." You said to yourself as you were going deeper and deeper into the woods, touching the gun you had stuck in your belt, just to be sure it was still there.

After a few steps, you suddenly stopped. A muffled sound coming from behind some bushes, a few feet away from you, caught your attention.

You approached slowly, pulling out your gun. It was a deer, you realized by lowering the gun and repressing a retch, a deer lying on the ground and lifeless. Its chest was completely open, its blood had splashed on the tree trunks and was forming a pool around the poor animal's body. You could see its bones and some of its insides.

Could a werewolf have done it? Could Dean have done it?

Sam told you that it wasn't sure if the witch transformed Dean, you told him you'd be sure she didn't transform him until you saw him again. If you saw him again.

Then another thought came into your mind.

The deer was dead. Surely for some time. So what made the sound you heard a few moments before?

A low growl coming from behind your shoulders made you jump and you turned quickly, the gun in your hands.

It was Dean, even if you had a hard time recognizing him.

Despite the darkness of the night you could see that his clothes were completely soaked in blood, there were some splashes of it on his dirt-soiled face and a trickle came out of his mouth and ran down his chin.

His eyes of a yellow color, very different from the usual green, looked at you, shining in the dark and you noticed that his pupils were narrower.

Your heart started pounding as Dean let out a low growl, approaching you, letting some moon rays light up his claws. In one hand he held the lifeless body of a rabbit, its once white fur almost completely red. Dean dropped the little animal into the leaves, slowly walking towards you.

You held the gun in your hands, wondering why you were doing it. You would never have shot Dean, even if he wasn't your Dean anymore.

"Dean, it's me. I don't wanna hurt you." You said, your voice echoing through the night. When you spoke, you thought that you probably weren't the one who wanted to hurt someone there.

You heard Dean's low growl again. The closer he got to you the more you felt the stench of blood that his body emitted.

"Dean, it's me." You repeated, your voice starting to tremble.

"I'm Y/N. I'm... I'm your friend. I just wanna help you." You said dropping the gun to the ground. You wouldn't have hurt him anyway, you might as well show didn't want to shoot him.

Dean was getting closer and closer to you and backing away you ended up with your shoulders against a tree.

Dean would never hurt you, you kept repeating in your head, as if to convince yourself.

Now Dean's body was inches from yours, his yellow eyes staring at you, twinkling in the night.

"It's me." You whispered. "You don't wanna hurt me."

Dean's face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your skin. You had imagined this moment many times, but it had never been like this.

Dean opened his mouth, letting you see his long, blood-stained fangs and you thought your end had come, that Dean would kill you, instead he whispered something. His voice was hoarse and low.

"Y/N" You managed to understand. "Y/N, you have to..." His voice shifted to his usual growl, it almost sounded like he was fighting the monster inside him.

"Y/N, you have to kill me." He murmured eventually.

"No, no we will find a cure. You'll be okay, Dean." You said staring at his bloodstained face.

"I can't control it. Someone will get hurt soon." He whispered. "I don't want it to be you."

"We will find a cure. You have to hold on." You said as tears formed in your eyes.

"If someone has to kill me, I want it to be you. I trust you." He said, his voice still low.

"Dean, I won't kill you. Nobody will. We'll find a way out, like we always do." You said.

He took a few steps back, walking away from you.

"Not this time." He growled showing his fangs, his yellow eyes meeting yours again.

"Y/N, go away." He murmured bringing his hands to his head. He was trying not to lose control, you realized.

"Dean, I..." You tried to say before he interrupted you.

"Y/N GO AWAY! NOW!" He screamed as his fangs seemed to grow even more.

So you ran away, you ran as fast as you could until you got out of the woods and found the Impala you got there with. You leaned against the car, out of breath, trying not to burst into tears and not throw up at the same time.

You failed in both a moment later.

Dean Winchester was a werewolf and you had no idea what to do.

Part two here

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731 @impalaslytherin

[mcx7demonbros]

Allow me to finish this,

The location spell led Lucifer to a jewelry store. He was not surprised because thieves usually sell their stolen goods at stores that are into shady business.

Lucifer entered the store and he focused on finding your necklace, ignoring the greeting from the shop owner. It didn’t take him long to find your necklace.

“Oh, you have good eyes, sir.” The shop owner praised Lucifer when he noticed the eldest’s gaze on the necklace.

“Owner, from whom did you get this necklace?”

“I’m sorry, sir. But we don’t reveal the origin of our goods.” Said the owner, as he reached for the button under a shelf to call security because he suspected the eldest to be a police or a detective.

Two muscular men entered the shop, each with a club in their hands. Anyone who looks at the scene will think that the raven-haired young man would lose. However, after a few minutes, the shop’s floor was dyed red with the blood of two corpses.

“Now tell me, where did you get the necklace?” A talon-like hand scratched on the face of the owner, creating a long bleeding wound on his cheek.

On one of the main streets of the city, a girl was walking alone. She was wearing a gold necklace, which had made her become a target for a particular thief. He trailed behind her and when the time came, he ran towards her and prepared to snatched the necklace. However, before he had the chance to touch the necklace, the girl disappeared and the thief found himself in a very dark place.

As the thief was trying to figure out what was going on, a tall black peacock-man/beast appeared behind him.

“Which hand did you use to steal from them?”

“Woah, w-what are y-you?” The thief was startled by Lucifer’s appearance.

“Answer my question, which hand did you use to steal from them?”

“M-my right hand, it’s my dominant h-

Before the thief could finish his words, he saw his right hand flying far away from him. When his brain received the pain, he let out a miserable scream.

“Now, what kind of pain should I inflict on you next?” Although the thief couldn’t make out any emotion on a bird-like monster face, he had the feeling the devil before him was smiling - a sadistic smile.

The next morning, the police encountered with two gruesome cases. The first case was in a shop, the victims were the shop owner with his staff and security. The second case was outright in the main street where they found the body of the thief. The bodies were heavily were heavily mutilated to the point they were unrecognizable. The only way the police was able to identify them was through a DNA test. Because of the similarities between the two cases, the police concluded they had the same culprit and began to large scale investigation to catch a serial killer. Hundreds, if not thousands, of policemen and women took part in the investigation. However, it yielded no result as the murderer disappeared without a trace. After a long time, the case was frozen and its files were shoved to a corner and no one ever opened them again.

Epilogue 1

“Love, close your eyes.”

You were puzzled by Lucifer’s request but you did as he said anyway. You felt something was put around your neck and when you were allowed to open your eyes, you saw the same necklace you had lost.

“Lucifer, you got it back.”

“Yes, love.”

“You must have gone through a tedious process to get it back.” You could feel that your eyes were starting to become teary. “Thank you.”

“Love, there isn’t anything that I’m unwilling to go through for you.” Pride wiped away your tears with his hand.

Epilogue 2 (written according to Children’s Book style)

Mammon is a good boy. He is a good baby brother. So his older brother bought him some new toys. Mammon loves the toys. He promised his brother he would play with them with care. 😈

@sparkbeast20 Tia, I hope you like my addition :3

So here's a scenario

You came back to devildom and the first thing Lucifer notice is you not wearing the matching necklace he bought you.

He kept his mouth shut and hope that you just forgot to wear it.

Weeks later and he still notice you aren't wearing the necklace. He start to be cold and angry, both at you and his brothers.

After a week of Lucifer being a tyrant. The brothers beg for you to go and talk to him.

So that night you went to his study and ask kindly why he's been being more aggressive then usual. That's when he snap and stalks towards you, saying that you at fault. It gotten where he corner you and looks down at you.

As tears start forming in your eyes. That's when he tell you that his angry because he thought that you didn't care because you haven't wearing the necklace.

That finally broke you. You start apologizing and hid your face. You wail that you lost the necklace and that you didn't have the courage to tell him.

That snap him out of his rage, he calmed down before pulling you into his arms. The two of you stayed like that for hours until you finally calm down. He ask what happened to the necklace, and you told him that someone snatch it while you are walking around your home town. You blame yourself of losing something important so easyly.

Lucifer reassume you that you aren't at fault and he apologist more for his behaviour.

That night he let you sleep in his room with him.

But when the clock strike 3:00 am, and you are fully asleep, Lucifer get out of bed and head to his study. There he uses his necklace and a location spell to know where your necklace is.

Because as soon he has time, he'll hunt down the theft that stole and started all of this.

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

[beels-burger-babe]

Hi! I saw that requests are open, if it's not a problem could i request Satan reacting to MC coming to him with new books every time they hang out because they want him to read them out loud since they have a short attention span? Like, Satan would be reading said book while MC is drawing or doing something else.

I have adhd and reading books that are not digital is a nightmare for me, so him reading out loud would be pretty relaxing.

Btw it's up to you if you wanna do headcanons or a oneshot!

ABSOLUTELY!!! So this is actually my first request and I'm super excited because as someone who also has ADHD I can totally relate! I hope you like it!

Too Still, Too Quiet

GN!MC with ADHD Summary: Satan notices that MC seems to have a hard time hanging out with him; he's determined to get to the bottom of the issue and find a solution.

After living in the House of Lamentation for nearly a year, you've grown accustomed to the many quirks that came with living with the seven Lords of the Devildom. You had gotten close to the brothers, and as they picked up on your symptoms for your ADHD, they each found their own ways of being helpful. Lucifer had always known, as it was written on your file, and made a point of sending you subtle reminders throughout the day to keep you organized and on task. He brushed it off saying that it merely prevented him from having to go after you later on if you forgot or did something incorrectly.  Mammon was no stranger to having a hard time prioritizing and staying focused and took pride in lending you some of the different tools he used to fidget with. After all, his human deserved the best, and you couldn’t get any better than using something that belonged to the great Mammon. Leviathan’s room provided a relaxing atmosphere with just enough stimulation to keep your brain satisfied enough to focus on your school work and tasks. The sounds of the aquarium provided a fantastic back ground noise, and Levi always took caution in wearing his headphones when he gamed if you were working in his room to not add to the distractions around you.  Asmodeus had a good eye for when you were growing too frustrated by the regular chaos that tended to fill the House of Lamentation and would pull you aside to his room for some self-care to help calm you down. There was nothing like a head message and face mask from Asmo as he happily gossiped about the latest drama in The Fall to help ground you.  Beelzebub, on the other hand, was great at noticing when you were starting to grow restless. In those moments, he’d not-so-subtly state that he was heading to the gym and it’d sure be nice if he had someone to join in before very obviously making eye contact with you. At first you had a hard time figuring out a good balance between a work out that satisfied Beel while also not killing you. But now the two of you easily worked with each other until you were both sweating, smiling, and happy. He also made sure to remind you to eat through out the day whenever you went to a round of hyper-fixation on something. Belphegore wasn’t particularly helpful when it came to your forgetful spells or disorganization as, being the Avatar of Sloth, he would normally encourage such behavior. Instead, he did what he did best, and helped put your wandering mind to ease whenever you were trying to sleep.  The only person, and not for a lack of trying, that you just couldn’t seem to find a flow with was Satan. 

He was too quiet and organized for you to be able to stand being around him for long periods of time. You had tried hanging out with him a couple of times, but after a few minutes of him silently reading or him explaining whichever text he was currently studying, you would grow restless and distracted.  Which brought you to your current situation.  Satan had invited you to come relax in his room with him, as the rest of his brothers were dealing with the aftermath of their most recent dilemma. It wasn’t so bad at first, some light conversation here, some banter there, but soon your mind started to wander off to the spines of the endless books around you as you pondered on what might be inside them.  “MC?”  Your attention snapped back onto Satan, who stood frowning at you. You blushed and scratched the back of your neck. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a little distracted. What were you saying?”  Satan sighed as his frown deepened.  “I’ve noticed that tends to happen a lot with you. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He quickly amended raising his hands in defense. “But it seems particularly bad when you’re with me. You get quite jittery and I don’t think you’ve ever stayed in my room longer than ten minutes,” for a second his eyes almost looked sad as he looked over at you, “Is it something I’m doing? Do I make you uncomfortable?”  “No! Satan, no, it’s not you I promise!” You quickly reassured moving closer to him. “It’s just well I have a hard time staying still and focusing on things and when it gets too quiet it bothers me because then my brain is like hyper fixating on the smallest noises in the room, even though I’m supposed to be focusing on what you’re saying or my work, and it’s like, is that a page a turning or a something scratching at the door and then I start wondering about what kind of things could be in here and-”  “MC.” Satan cut off, though he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, his eyes now gleamed with a sense of understanding. “Do you happen to have ADHD?”  “Yeah, I thought you all knew? Lucifer told all of you when I arrived right? That’s why everyone is so-” you moved your hand in a vague gesture that even you weren’t entirely sure what it was meant to symbolize.  Satan huffed and shook his head. “Lucifer did no such thing. I imagine he would’ve told us if it came to be a big enough problem. But you know him. He takes pride in being the only one to know certain things. “  You frowned and tilted your head in confusion. “But then what about the others? They’ve all been helping me out for months now.”  Satan placed a hand under his chin in thought, “They most likely took note of individual symptoms and decided to help. Belphegore, and possibly even Leviathan and Asmodeus may have put two and two together, but the rest probably think you’re just forgetful or that you’re restless,” he smiled reassuringly at you, “but that’s besides the point. Now that I know, I can help make you feel more at ease when you’re with me. What’s the main issue that you-” “It’s too quiet!” You quickly cut off, causing Satan to raise an eyebrow. “When we’re in here relaxing and you’re just reading and I’m supposed to be reading too, it’s too quiet. I try to focus on the book, but my mind keeps jumping around to other things. And I want to read all those books you’ve recommended to me, I really do, but I start feeling bored after a little while and next thing I know I jumping sentences without noticing and then I’ve gone an entire chapter with no recollection of what I’ve just read because I wasn’t really paying attention to the words at all I was just flipping pages without realizing it, so I have to go back and re-read the whole thing all over again!” You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “Is exhausting and makes me feel dumb, so I get up and do something else instead.”  Satan nodded, taking in every word carefully. “Well first of all,” you yelped as he flicked your forehead.  “Ouch! What was that for?!”  The demon smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “For calling yourself dumb. Just because you have more difficulty with literature than others, does not mean you’re dumb. You simply require a different reading strategy than what most consider “usual”, and I believe I have a solution that would suit both of us,” you perked up at his words. “I recommended those books to you because I greatly enjoyed them myself. How about, when you’re here, you can choose a book you want to read, and I will read it out loud for you? That should help, yes?”  A light airy warmth filled your chest at just how accommodating Satan was willing to be. “But what about the books that you were reading?”  The demon shrugged, “I can always read them in my spare time.” He moved closer to take your hands into his, silently demanding your full attention. “I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I want you to be comfortable and be able to be yourself when you’re around me without feeling stressed. This is honestly the least I could do for you, MC.”  Blushed rushed to your cheeks as you felt your heart flutter in your chest. You awkwardly cleared your throat and took your hands back, rubbing them on your legs as you noted how clammy they were. “I think I-I would like that a lot” The grin on Satan’s face widened as he took one of your hands and lead you deeper into the bookshelves of his room. “Splendid! Then why don’t we get try right away? Take you pick, MC, I will be your narrator for the evening and for as long as you wish.”  ***** I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for! It is a little short, but I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the request, I loved it! Requests are OPEN and I would definitely love to complete some more if anyone has any ideas or prompts that they’d like me to complete. Just send in an ask and, if I feel comfortable with it, I’ll do my best to make a fic for it!

[roger-that-cap]

wildest dreams

witch!wanda x reincarnated!reader 

summary: wanda had walked around the earth for centuries with no magic and hardly any soul left after losing her soulmate. she thought that her lover would never return and that the only reunion they would have would be in the afterlife, but a run-in with bucky changes everything after he insists that he met the long gone y/n at a fountain in the park. 

yet another au by me... 

word count: around 6.5k?

imma tag one person bc she gets upset when she isn’t tagged- and idk if anyone else would actually be interested?

@teenwonder

also this picture is not mine, and the dividers are by @firefly-graphics !!

without further ado, it’s almost 6 in the morning but i give you this!!

She held you tight, fingers digging into your skin as she trembled above you. The rose bushes were rustling in the wind next to you both, the sweet smell of the flowers contrasting with the moment. You were halfway gone already, eyes far off but trying to swim back to the surface, wanting to look at her one last time before the inevitable happened. 

  “S…” you tried to say, but she hushed you immediately, tears falling down on your face and mixing with your own. You shook her head at her as hard as you could, begging for her to let you continue. “Say you’ll remember me,” you ground out, fingers tightening around her hand. 

  “What?” Wanda asked, voice already thick with grief as she tried to decide whether or not it was better to keep the knife lodged between your ribs inside of you.

“When I come back-” you cut yourself off by coughing up blood, and Wanda didn’t even wince when it splattered on her cheek. “Back for you, promise that you’ll remember me.” 

 “Darling,” Wanda whispered back, her voice cracking as she bent over and rested her head on your stomach for a moment, hiding her sob. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her; under her skin, in her bones, dancing on her fingertips. “I wish I knew- I wish I just knew how-”

  “Please.” You said, a desperate look in your eyes as you halted her words, already knowing what Wanda wanted. But natural magic was nothing to mess with. She sobbed again with her lips pressed together, no sound escaping her. You squeezed her hand tighter as the sun started on its routine descent, basking the two of you in an orange glow that you would have stopped to admire in any other moment in time. But Wanda would grow to hate that shade of orange with every breath in her. “Please.” It would always remind her of the sound of your begging, voice reaching for something that she couldn’t see. 

Maybe it was the desperation in your voice, or the way that she just knew that you were well within your last moments, because she looked up at you one last time. “Of course I’ll remember you, darling. I couldn’t even dream of forgetting you.” There was a wheezing sound that came from your chest as you cracked a bloody smile, and then you gave one last squeeze before you looked away from her, your soul settling in the afterlife. 

  Wanda Maximoff would never forget it. Suddenly, her previously  irrational fear of losing her magic became real, but that feeling didn’t even come close to the one she got when you grew lifeless in her arms. 

Ever since you knew what a normal person was supposed to be like, you had identified that you, in fact, were not the normal person that you were probably supposed to be. Normal people didn’t daydream to the point where it felt like their bodies weren’t in the present anymore. Normal people didn’t have birthmarks under their ribs that aced and burned. Normal people didn’t feel out of touch with their world, like they weren’t even meant to be in the century they were in. Normal people didn’t feel like they were searching for something tirelessly, something just under their noses. And normal people surely didn’t dream of the same set of hands, same pair of eyes, or the same voice over and over again, a new setting every time, but always the same, faceless person. You either drew the same faceless person or rose bushes, and every sketch book you ever had was full of them. 

At first, you were sure that you were going insane. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see a flash of reddish brown hair, or the same set of eyes, or the same pair of pale hands. You kept seeing this person without ever seeing a face for nights at a time before you went to see a therapist, who just ended up telling you that worrying about it was only going to make it worse, whatever it even was. But eventually, you learned to get used to it. 

Acceptance turned into expectancy. You went to sleep knowing that there was going to be a pair of hands accompanied by the same slender fingers as always before you, sometimes intertwined with your own. You knew that there was going to be a set of eyes on you, watching you intently with no ace to go with them. You knew that you would hear whispers of the same voice, speaking so clearly in a language you didn’t even come close to understanding, and soon, you were craving to see and hear those things. And wanting to see them led to something that you never told your therapist; drawings. 

You drew nearly every day under the sky, trying to find different park benches to see the sun rise and set at different angles for inspiration. You loved the sky, moon and stars alike, but there was something special about sunrises and sunsets. Sunrises and sets both meant new beginnings to you, out with the old and in with the new, and each rise and fall filled you with a strange feeling of nostalgia. You were watching the sunset on a park bench by yourself, a sketchbook sitting on your lap as you held an idle pencil, still thinking about the way you wanted to draw the hands. The birthmark between your ribs started to tingle, letting you know that it was about to burn again. That damn birthmark. You dropped the pencil and scratched at it, trying to beat the annoying feeling at its own game. You cursed the mark, but your eyes didn’t leave the sky, and you noticed your heart swelling in your chest, faint despair in the pits of it, churning around like the middle of the deep sea. 

 You shook your head and put your pencil in your hand again, brain not even having to work hard at all to see the features of the faceless person who was in your every dream. 

Even before she ever met you, Wanda didn’t sleep well. She would toss and turn for at least an hour before she finally found some temporary, flimsy form of peace. Her sleep was always light and she hardly ever had dreams, which was customary for a woman like her at the time- an un-blossomed witch. 

It was hard for her to remember the time where she didn’t have magic, but that time certainly existed. It lasted nearly thirty years. She never aged a day past twenty one, time moving past her without a care in the world. She was stuck right there, no magic except for the little bit in her bones that was keeping her young. And then she met you. 

You were the person that kicked her magic into gear. You were her kindred soul, her other half and the power to her magic. Meeting you had flung her right into the world of magic and spells, things that she only watched others do, but even as she was introduced to an entirely different world, she could remember only really wanting you. Her heart and soul called to you far louder and stronger than spells called to her eager mind. When she met you, it all fell into place. It was an easy love, one that was never going to be disputed or questioned, and loved it. She was prepared to move heaven, earth, and the gods for you, if she had to. Your arrival into her life had caused her to finally blossom. 

But now, she had bloomed and flourished and wilted all the same, and she was just waiting to decompose. 

“Have hope,” was all that Bucky, a warlock who had been tortured enough in his own way, would tell her. “Have hope that something good will come to you, and it will.” 

She never had the heart to tell him that good things hardly came to those who waited. He himself was a product of waiting, and it had served him well. Before he met his other half, he was taken by a rival clan and experimented on with spells that were so far past illegal that they made the casual witch shudder. Eventually, he was broken out and the rival clan was defeated, but he returned to them as an empty shell of a man. But then, Steve came, and then the man was nothing but a ball of light. His magic grew to be strong and so did Steve’s, and together they became known as some of the strongest practitioners of magic in the world. 

 But what did Wanda have to hope for when you were gone? What did she have to wake up for and smile at when she knew that she had buried you hundreds of years ago? It wasn’t even about the magic. She couldn’t care less about the way she felt the energy leave her- and it was dramatic- leaving in a singular burst of light the second you left. She only knew that you were gone, and that was the only thing that mattered, and it seemed to be the only thing that she even really felt. 

Well, she did feel one other thing. Exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by the lack of you by her side. And exhaustion was exactly why she assumed that she was hallucinating when she felt a small tug at her heart, in a part of her brain that had been dormant for years and years. She shook her head and tried to take her thoughts away from you and the nagging feeling in her gut. 

“Oh, no…” you exclaimed, voice tapering out into a whine as you watched the ruined paper sink deeper and deeper into the fountain, a fist clenching at your side in disappointment when you realized how many hours were lost, just like that, and then even tighter when you realized that part of you wasn’t even truly upset about the time spent on the ruined art. You were mostly upset that you lost the only vision of the hands that you had during the daytime. 

You were on your knees, sleeves still all the way down as you reached into the water frantically, causing the paper to move even further away. You weren’t even worried about your sketchbook that had fallen open onto the pavement, more focused on the rapidly deteriorating piece of paper. You hardly even noticed the man who knocked into you talking, trying his hardest to make the situation better. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?” 

“I mean,” you breathed out, taking the nearly disintegrated paper from the water and grimacing. When you realized that the man was fumbling to say something from behind you, celery apprehensive over the fact that you were upset, you took a short breath and turned around, giving him a small smile. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and crystal blue eyes that were striking, but you knew that they held thousands of stories by looking just once.  He was holding your sketchbook, and by the way he was gripping it tightly, you could tell that he had flipped through it for a second. “It’s just a drawing. I guess I can make another one.” 

  His eyes widened. You saw his jaw slacken and his neck stretch out, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He blinked three times, and his parted lips trembled for a second before he slammed them shut. You cocked a brow at him, your sadness about losing the drawing being replaced by a weak feeling of uneasiness. “Sir?” 

  “Knew it.” His face was clear from any type of emotion as he watched yours, and when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, a grin spread across his face. “I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” You furrowed your brows at him, asking what the hell had just occurred without saying a single word. “I’m sorry, you just looked really familiar.” 

 Just like that, you smiled. You knew that feeling, you felt like you got deja vu far too often to be normal. You hated when people made you feel strange for it, you always had, so you tried your best to ignore it with him. “You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m Y/N.” You extended your dry hand for him to shake it. He stared at it for a moment, and then with an eagerness that made you smile, he shook your hand. 

“‘I’m Bucky.” 

  For a moment, you could have sworn that you had done more tha just seen him before. Could have sworn that you had shaken his hand, met him before, been at the receiving end of his blinding yet somewhat shy smile. It flashed through you warm and bright, and you cleared your throat before pulling your hand away and realizing you had held it for too long. You cleared it again when you saw something flash in his eyes, a weak smile lifting on your lips.

“It’s not her.” 

Wanda was furious. She was insulted more than anything, really, angry that Bucky could even mistake the light of you for someone else. She knew that you would never grace the earth with your presence again, and she was so used to the fact that she was going to have to die before seeing you again. And for one of her closest friends to try to convince her that you were back? 

 “She would have already found me.” And Wanda believed that with her whole heart. You had asked her so long ago that you remember her, like she could ever forget. Your scent was so flowery that whenever she walked past a growing garden that she smelled you, your smile was so bright that she saw it in the way the rays of sun came down on the earth. She heard your laugh in the chirping of the birds every morning, and she saw your playfulness in the running waters of the stream by the cabin. She could never forget you, because everything was traced back to you. And you would never return without finding her. 

“I don’t think she even knows it yet, but she is looking for you.” Bucky insisted, stepping forward and receiving Wanda’s burning glare while Steve stepped to the side and let it happen. “I bumped into her and she dropped her sketchbook. I saw her drawings- she drew your eyes.” 

  Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” 

“She dropped the drawing of hands in the water, but I saw she had drawn eyes that looked just like yours, hair the same shade as yours, even drawn the necklace you used to wear. She draws roses, too. I swear to everything above, it’s her.” 

She could feel herself getting warm, the sort of emotions stirring inside of her that had the potential to turn into a singular weapon. The thought of a rose bush made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not her.” 

“You forget that I knew her, too,” Bucky stated, and Wanda’s desolation was replaced by some ancient feeling of possessiveness. “I could never forget her face, and that was it right there. That was her face, without a shadow of a doubt, And her voice-” 

Wanda’s face curled into a snarl. “Stop talking about her.”  

“Hey, Wanda, take a deep breath,” Steve cut in, ever the mediator, but Bucky was hardheaded. If he thought something needed to happen, he was the one to push for it to happen, and he needed her to see. 

 “She looks the same as she did the day she left.” Wanda let out a choked noise. For a second, all she could picture was her lover dying by the blooming rose bushes in the sunset, ruining two of the most beautiful things in life at once. The third (but first) was you, but not even your horrible death could taint Wanda’s memory of you. You would forever be the brightest and most beautiful thing to grace the earth. “I got her number, we’re meeting at a coffee shop a few blocks away.” 

“Leave her alone.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw the brunet’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open, she spoke before he could get a word in. “Just stay away from her, Bucky.” 

All she could think about was your death. The way you choked on your own blood. The way you cried and looked up at her, but still managed to smile. And as she was consumed by rage and memories, the only other thought in her mind was that she was yours and you were here, and that she couldn’t save you then. But she was surely going to preserve your memory from Bucky’s mouth. 

  “I know you feel it coming back. You haven’t felt it in so long, but it’s warm, right? It’s powerful. You always were the strongest, and you’re not dormant any longer. Stop lying to yourself and depriving yourself of love, Wanda. You know Y/N-”

  She saw red. Red as red as the fires that burned in the magma underneath the ground, as red as embers in a fire. “You don’t get to say her name.” She saw so much red, so much hot anger that hardly covered her sadness, that she didn’t even see the way that she had her hand out red coming from her palm as she lifted Bucky right off of the wooden floor of their shared home. “You don’t get to talk about her.” There was a warbling noise in her ears, whispers that sounded like her name, getting louder and louder until she finally realized it was Steve trying to get her attention. 

  “Wanda.” 

Instantly, she dropped her arm and watched Bucky fall to the ground, landing in a crouched position. She watched him catch his breath on the ground. She opened her mouth to apologize, to say that she felt terrible and that she had no idea what happened, what took over her, but she was stopped by the brilliant smile that came onto Bucky’s face. 

  “You used magic.” He said, slowly and steadily, not a hint of hesitance or animosity in his eyes or voice. Instead, he seemed more proud than anything. “You can’t deny this now, Wanda.” 

She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest intensifying as she tried without any results to get the right amount of air in her lungs. She felt her knees hit the ground before she knew that she did, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into herself. Her heart ached, tugging in so many different directions as her brain fought to rationalize what everything meant. She had used magic,  and that meant that you were back, in one way or another. She was in disbelief. She was in despair. She was in shock. 

“I know you do, I know you do,” It was Steve’s arms around her, and Steve’s voice in her ear, and she realized that she had been saying I miss her, I miss her, over and over again until the words jumbled. “We know you do, Wanda. We miss her too.” 

But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t lost Bucky since he had found him. He hadn’t walked the earth for centuries after losing the only thing that mattered to him as an empty shell of the person he used to be. He would never understand, but that wasn’t his fault. In fact, she prayed that he would never understand. 

“I’m sorry I approached you like that,” Bucky said, crouching down and hugging her just as Steve was, enclosing her into a hugging circle. They were coven, related by magic, and just being around them made her tears subside. “But you know that I would have never said anything like that unless I was one thousand percent sure. I would never do anything to hurt you, Wanda. All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that I found her.” 

And how could he want anything but the best for her? He knew her just as much as Steve did. Just as much as she probably knew herself. He and Steve were the ones who stormed the coven that took you from her by her side, and they were the ones that helped her send them to their graves. They supported her through thick and thin, through revenge and peace, and mostly, they loved you almost as much as she did. Why would Bucky lie? 

Wanda blinked, staring down at her hands in fear and wonder as her heart beat started to get away from her. Steve’s warm hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched from the sudden touch after such a rush of power. 

“I think you should go with him, Wanda.” Her heavy breathing was all that filled the air for a moment. “Just take a look at her from outside so you can leave if he was wrong without anyone knowing, but you should at least try. I think Buck’s right.” 

Wanda’s breaths were still labored. Her hands trembled as she moved hair from her eyes, and her lip quivered before she found the strength to mutter a few words. “Will she- will she remember?” 

“I think she will,” Steve said softly. “But she’s probably just a human. It may take more than just seeing you for her to remember everything.” 

 Her eyes were wet with tears, and her heart was so big with warmth and need that she was scared that it would burst open at the seams. But she was even more terrified to lose the idea of you. Slowly and shakily, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down as she sealed her own fate. “I’ll go.” She saw Steve give her his fatherly and supportive smile, small yet full. “I’ll see her.” 

You didn’t know how you were gently swindled into giving Bucky your number. You knew that it was nothing but friendly, but he was so charming that you felt like you could never not know him. In fact, it felt like you already did know him. He said something about maybe commissioning an artwork of yours, and of course that excited you. You were going to meet him at a coffee shop, in a public place even though you weren’t the slightest bit afraid of him. But something felt different. 

 It started once you got into your car. You were driving to get to the shop when tingles came down your spine, and bumps raised on your arms, like someone was whispering against your skin. You started to feel warmth come and go in waves, brushing against your mind and then retreating again. You shook off all of the strong feelings as you turned your car off, parked in front of the coffee shop while the music from your speakers filled the silence, soft piano music that was perfect for the weather. 

  It was drizzling, the kind of weather that you liked to call a “lover’s drizzle” because of how often it was seen in romantic scenes. Scenes of confession, of reunion, of desperation between two lovers- more often than not, they had the mild rain to stand in. You turned the music down before shutting your car off and then stepping out, closing the door and locking it immediately before walking briskly to the entrance of the coffee shop with your recent drawings in hand. 

 Bucky wasn’t there when you arrived. In fact, hardly anyone was there besides the few employees, who smiled at you when you entered but otherwise fell back into conversation amongst themselves, which was fine with you. There was one beefy blonde man who was sitting with a laptop and a ball cap on. He glanced up for a moment and then took a double take, blinking hard at you with a star struck look on his face, and then he shot his gaze back down and went back to typing.

You sat down at a table for two, the only type of table that was there besides the long, awkward study tables that they had set up in the center of the room. You would much rather take the intimate setting of a two-seater than to sit in the middle of the shop, so you did just that. You flipped through your work, looking at it closely now that you had the time. He had mentioned something about possible portrait work for a friend of his, so you naturally brought most of the drawings that you had done with hands, arms, eyes, hair, nearly everything that was the closest to your heart. You rested your palm on top of them and watched your fingers trace the slender ones that you had drawn in what felt like by memory at the time, like you were just remembering the way an old friend’s hands used to look. You peeled that one back and looked into the eyes, the strangest and prettiest light green color that made your heart pound every time you looked at it. You took a deep breath in.

  “That’s gorgeous.” You jumped in your seat as the chair in front of you pulled out from under the table, and there was the charming brunet that you had met by the fountain, giving you the same welcoming smile that he first granted you. You smiled back without hesitation, your heart warming at the sight. “You sure can draw.” 

  “I try,” you joked, your grin nearly splitting your face. “Do you drink coffee?” 

“Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I like tea, though.” You gave him a thoughtful look. 

“Are you into herbal healing?” 

You could have sworn that there was some sort of excitement in his eyes, but you weren’t sure enough by the time he opened his mouth again. “Yes, actually! What, does it look like I’m into it?” 

“No,” you answered, and it was true. Bucky was huge. He had the kind of build that intimidated other guys at the gym, the kind that made athletes jealous. He looked like the typical meathead, but he was sweeter than you could have imagined. But he looked nothing like a man who would be into herbal healing. “Just a guess.” 

“Pretty good guess,” he mused, and you grinned back. Your head was in the clouds of some strange deja vu when he asked you if you wanted something, and the entire exchange of whether or not you were going to pay was on the back burner as you sifted through your thoughts. By the time he came back, you noticed that you must have told him that you liked hot chocolate, and that he must have paid. You scolded him before he sat back down, waving you off. It was silent for a few moments as you looked out of the window, the rain still steadily working through the atmosphere. The cup was comfortingly warm. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

  With any other man, you would have immediately told him no, or at least have your guard up. But there was just something deep down, so buried that it was faint, but it was there, that told you that he was nowhere even close to being a threat. “Yes.”

 He nodded, taking a sip of his tea and then putting his cup down gently before giving you an intense look. “Who’s the girl?”  

You frowned. “What girl?” 

He raised a singular brow. “The one you draw.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. You blinked twice, and then tilted your head to the side. “I don’t draw just one person,” you said slowly, the lie dragging its way out of your mouth and through your teeth. “They’re different people.” 

“Oh,” he said, but the smirk on his face told you that he knew you were lying to him and to yourself. You sipped your drink and something tugged at you, telling you to look out of the window and into the rain again, just one more time before you spilled your guts about seeing things- and then something caught your eye. A flash of a familiar reddish-brown. You turned your full body to look that way, and once you did, you nearly dropped your cup. 

  There was a woman staring back at you, eyes wide and full of so much emotion that the artist in you wanted to rush to make an unworthy attempt at capturing it. Her lips were parted in pure shock, but you were watching them tremble even from far away. She was getting slightly damp in the rain, but she stood there like it didn’t even matter, just locking eyes with you and sending your heart rate through the roof. When your eyes finally came back to hers after looking at her for what felt like the quickest eternity, you gasped. You knew those eyes. 

  If you weren’t so deep into gazing at the woman stuck behind the glass, you would have noticed the pleased and content look on Bucky’s face, and the look that he gave the big blond sitting with a ball cap on all by himself. You would have noticed the way that the blond man was turning his body towards your table, watching with the same amount of anticipation as Bucky was. You tried to understand why she looked so familiar, why she was scratching the part of your brain that always tried to convince you that you were much older than twenty something- and then it hit you. 

  You had been drawing this woman. And you had been thinking about her ever since you knew how to think. It was just the first time you were ever seeing the full picture. “I-” you muttered, eyes stuck on her and the way she looked like she was about to topple over from emotions. The words got stuck in your own throat as you weakly tried to get your mind to take you back to the conversation. “I- excuse me. I have to- I’ll be back- excuse me.” Your chair made a loud noise as you stood from the table in a haste, pushing the door open and walking towards the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk, dumbstruck. 

Before you even knew you were outside and into the rain, you were standing not even four steps away from the woman, who was now looking at you with an incomprehensible look on her face. You couldn’t even feel the rain on you. All you could feel was her gaze and the warmth that was settling in your stomach and chest, and the same intense familiarity that was hitting you when you looked at Bucky. But it was so much stronger. 

“I-” you frowned, taking a step closer and resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “Do I know you? Have we met?” You had to have met. You had seen her in your sleep, in your daydreams, in your sketchbook. And still, you never could have imagined how beautiful she was. 

She was silent. 

“I know this is random and that I just bum rushed you, but, did we go to school together or something?” You were embarrassed. You had never begged someone to remember you before, but this woman was different. She hadn’t said a word to you, and you didn’t even know her name, but you were enraptured. You swore you knew her. You swore you saw her eyes glaze over for a second. 

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Her voice struck something familiar in your chest, something warm and comforting. It was so familiar, so far back in your memory that it felt like home. Her accent, her inflection, the way she spoke slowly yet deliberately. It was all there in your mind, but you just couldn’t figure out how you knew it so well. “You don’t remember who I am?” 

 That had you closing your mouth. You tilted your head to the side at what could have been a hostile question, but her tone made it sad. Did you forget a high school friend? “Oh, um, I know you from somewhere, but I can’t really-” 

 “Think.” The desperation in her voice made your knees shake. If she were anyone else, you would have told her to go away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want her to go away. But you couldn’t quite place her either, even though your own heart was screaming at you to remember. 

  “I’m sorry,” you said, a hurt expression on your face. You braved yourself to leave, taking a deep breath and giving her a weak smile that embarrassed you even further. “This was weird of me. I’ll just-” 

 She was reaching for you. Time started to run slower as her pale arm extended towards you, long fingers that you had committed to memory and to paper a thousand times outstretched. Your mouth dropped open ever so slightly as you stood in place for a second, body still until you subconsciously leaned forward, your nerves buzzing under your skin. 

  For a second, the only thing you could do was look at the point where her skin touched yours. 

  You had seen magic before. You had seen it in movies and at theme parks and when miracles happened, but nothing ever like when her skin touched yours. You swore that the warmth that your body had been feeling kicked in even stronger, surrounding you in comfort. Her hand was wrapped around your arm, gentle yet begging, firm yet wishing all the same for something you couldn’t quite see yet. You looked up and into her eyes, the eyes you had drawn and seen so many times, and then you saw it. 

   You saw it in more than flashes. They were coming in at the speed of light, but somehow you were able to catch every moment and every feeling that came along. You heard her voice as clear as day, ringing with laughter. You saw the two of you attempting to skip stones. You saw her enchanting your stones behind your back to make you think you had actually done it. You saw her mouth brushing over your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead. You could feel her hands on you, holding you, protecting you, cherishing you all the same. You could remember the way that you felt when you saw her standing in traditional witch’s clothing, being inducted into her coven as a blossomed witch. You saw everything and nothing, and you remembered it all. 

Wanda. 

A strangled sound escaped your body, so feral that it scared you, but you didn’t care. You pulled her forward, your head clashing against her chest. You could feel her shaking, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you just as tightly, but she was hesitating. “Wanda,” you called out, hugging her tighter, and then, like something in the universe stretched too far and then snapped right back into place, she was returning the embrace. 

  “I thought I had lost you forever,” she said, her voice hollow yet so full, so expressive. “I lost you, darling.” 

  The memories were all there, like all it took was a touch, but you were still coping with the knowledge. You had been murdered. Murdered by witch hunters, way back when witches were known and feared. That had to have been hundreds of years ago, you knew it. But still, your focus was on Wanda. It always would be on Wanda, forever and always. Just like hers was on you. 

“You didn’t,” you managed to say, your own voice thick with emotion as you buried your face into her neck, finally feeling the texture of the hair that you tried so hard to get right. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly sobbing in your arms. You had no idea how you weren’t being interrupted in the crowded streets, but when you took a look back inside of the cafe to see the men who you so clearly remembered as Steve and Bucky, you knew it had something to do with them and their fulfilled smiles. “I wasn’t able to save you. I let you die, and I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” 

  Her words brought you back to the present. “Wanda, no. No, no, no.” You wanted to pull away and look at her face, but the second you started to, she held onto you even tighter. You leaned your head back onto her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way any of us could have known, and no way that you could have saved me. It was beyond us.” 

  “Nothing should have ever been beyond us.” She argued softly. “I’m so sorry.” 

“But it was,” you said. “And now it’s behind us. Don’t apologize, Wanda.” You wiggled around and got free enough to look up at her teary face. “I may not have recognized you, but now that I do, I can’t believe that I ever forgot you.”

   “A new life will do that to you.” 

“Is it really a new life if I remember everything?” You said softly, the rain long gone as you stood with each other, bodies nearly molded together with how close you were. 

  She pulled away to look down at you, her eyes and overall expression tense, and then there was a look that you recognized from a long time ago. It was a look of sweet desire. You closed the cap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers in a way that proved that you were both two lost souls who had wandered their way back to their other halves. 

“It can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” Her lips brushed your again, soft and tender and eager for more touch. “As long as you let me be in it.” 

[giorno-plays-piano]

Wish In A Well

Part II

Pairing: witcher!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: yandere-ish Steve, noncon/dubcon, non-consensual use of magic, might get a bit darker as the story progresses.

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Victims of a love spell, Steve and you learn how to live without each other when the charms get broken. Funny enough, you soon find your ex-boyfriend taking interest in you again.

Part I

P.S. Just to clarify, this is NOT the same witcher AU as Witcher tv-series/book/game.

___________

Soon you finished with your massage, and Rogers breathed out a sight of relief, his pain finally gone. Both of you quickly left the room: the exam was starting, and you hurried into the hall.

In the evening you found a pretty little box with chocolate near your door. Although you went to several dates in the last two months, you knew it weren't your suitors who sent you this.

"I don't know, really," you told Wanda, your friend and roommate, "it feels weird. I just broke up with him. And, uh, after all this love spell business I expected Steve to never look in my direction. It's not like he ever loved me either. I'm sure he must have felt terrible when he realized we were bound by the spell and nothing else."

"Still, it doesn't mean he can't have feelings for you. What if he likes you just because, you know, you are you? You're pretty, and smart." She retorted and smiled, eating one of the chocolates from the box you put on the floor, you two sitting on puffy bright pillows around it. "And he definitely gets a thorough check up every month to detect any charms or curses, so it can't be another love spell or anything."

"Yeah, I know," you muttered, upset.

You couldn't explain why it bothered you. Were you doubting his feelings? Perhaps. The spell stole 3 years of your life, and it was only natural to suspect Steve still being under the influence of magic. It could also be just out of habit, him returning to you just because it was something he grew accustomed to.

"Besides, he's gonna be a dark guardian soon. You're the ambitious type too, aren't you? I thought Steve would fit you better than Jake or Larry. In the end, they'll never be your equals, don't you think?"

Damn, she was right, she was so right it nearly made you irritated, and you quickly sipped your apple cider, taking a deep breath. You were too agitated for literally no reason.

"I don't know. It's just... well, after the spell was broken, I was mad, of course... but then there was hope I'd live differently, somehow... like there will be someone else for me, not just my perfect golden-haired boyfriend, you know?" Scratching your neck, you huffed, getting down on the pillows and closing your eyes. "I don't know if I want to be with good old Steve again."

"Love spells are tricky," Wanda shrugged her shoulders. "You changed a lot since the spell got broken. Maybe the real Steve was never your sweet little pet dog either. Are you sure you really know him?"

She was right again, and you threw a pillow at her, making her giggle.

Whatever. You'd think about Steve tomorrow. Now you were deadly tired, and the only thing you wanted was to drink your cider and discuss some silly rumors with Wanda.

The week went quickly: numerous projects and midterms were taking all your time, so the most you could do was to study together with your girls to have some fun. Sometimes Steve talked to you, wishing you good luck or just discussing something unimportant, but you could see clearly he was interested in you. It was both surprising and disturbing, although you did listen to Wanda, thinking it was alright to give Steve a chance. In the end, he never treated you wrong, and the love spell wasn't his fault. What if you'd start dating him even without love magic? It's not like it couldn't happen.

Next Monday professor Stark, whom you told of Steve's ritual, clicked his fingers, asking you to come see him, and when you came close, he told you with a grim expression on his face that stubborn Rogers finished the ritual. To your horror, he really seemed to devour the spirit he summoned, but when you asked Stark if Steve was in danger, professor barked a laugh, asking you if you forgot you were a witch and not a tooth fairy.

"You think dark guardians didn't do anything like that to themselves? Pfft, don't make me laugh, girl. You can't play safe if you're a witcher like Steve. Just be a dear and look after him, especially since it's kinda your fault he became so wild," professor said, and you stared at him, perplexed.

Your fault? How come it was your fault? You didn't remember asking Steve to do anything of the kind. In fact, you were actually worried about him! Even when you dated, you certainly didn't like it when he was risking his life. Why was it your fault?

Natasha reminded you that even under the spell you were still an ambitious witch, and one of your plans was to become a member of Supreme Council of Sorcerers, a powerful and ancient organization that consisted purely of witches. It had a great influence on the magic society, but, since many of its witches were centuries old, they stuck to old traditions most mages no longer cared about. One of the rules of council's witches was to have an equally strong partner or a partner who was stronger than them. Old hags believed if a witch was able to come to terms with someone as powerful as her, she possessed enough strength, wisdom, and patience to be a part of the council. You knew several witches were married to dark guardians, one to a vampire lord, and two more to necromancers. Although you didn't remember ever discussing it with him, what if Steve aimed at becoming dark guardian because at that time he was madly in love with you?

But he was no longer under the spell, you said, and Natasha just shrugged her shoulders. Maybe after 3 years of constant trainings he decided he would still go that way because it was too late to change anything, she supposed.

The possibility looked real to you, and you felt guilty. Damn, what did this stubborn guy get himself into? Whose spirit did he absorb? What was going to happen to him now?

Although you imagined Steve and you to never be close after that love spell business, surprisingly, you found yourself constantly thinking of him, meeting him, and even being kinda responsible for him. You wondered if he felt the same way towards you. You wouldn't be surprised if he did.

The next time you met Steve he was wearing an ashy black mantle with raven feathers on his shoulders, looking so majestic as if he were a king. Being so flashy wasn't in his nature, and you thought it was either a very useful magical artifact, or the influence of the spirit. You always wandered whose soul Steve devoured, but even Bucky didn't know, shrugging his shoulders whenever you asked him. There were too many mysteries around Rogers, and you didn’t like it.

"Have you heard Larry was cursed?" Wanda asked you quietly as you sat together in the auditorium, professor Pierce teaching you which spells to use to break through the giant serpent's scales.

You chocked on air.

"Larry what?"

"It's nothing serious, he just got a wolf's noise, that's all," she laughed, and you rolled your eyes, "but, imagine, even Pepper can't lift the curse! I heard she has no idea how long he'll have to walk around with his hairy grey nose."

Larry was among those guys you went out with, but if Jake was pretty shy, Larry was all about touching - you often had to scare him with a particularly nasty hex if he wouldn't take his hands off you.

"Who could do that to him, I wonder," Wanda directed her gaze somewhere above your head, up where Steve was sitting just behind you.

You could feel his eyes on your back as if he tried burning a hole in it.

The next two minutes you kept making notes - Pierce was turning into a literal monster if his students couldn't pass the exam with a mark he deemed high enough. Wondering when the break was going to be, you suddenly felt someone's warm fingers on the back of your neck, and immediately looked back, staring into Steve's handsome face. He carefully stroked your skin, never taking her eyes off you.

"The label was showing. I wanted to tuck it in," he smiled politely, leaving your blouse alone, but you knew it had nothing to do with the label or whatever he said.

Steve Rogers was shamelessly flirting with you.

"Wanda, your label is showing, too!" Sam tried reaching out to touch her back, but Pietro slapped his hands the very same moment.

"What do you think you're doing to my sister?!" He shouted with irritation, and when professor Pierce looked up your row, even giggling Wanda became quiet.

_________

Just to make sure you weren’t under any charms, you did a cleansing ritual that evening and found out you had a very simple congeniality spell casted on you, but it was so subtle it barely had any effect. You weren’t even sure it was Steve who did that. In fact, while you were certain he cursed Larry, you doubted Rogers would put a spell on you. The pain left by love magic was still there.

Then, what you felt for Steve was simply... slight affection or something?

Cut yourself some slack, girls said. So what if you liked Rogers a little bit? Was it a crime? He was far from the worst choice you could make even if you decided to go back to him. Just give yourself time, relax, and the decision will come to you naturally, they advised you, seeing you sulking.

They were right, and soon you found yourself enjoying Steve's presence. You didn't go as far as flirting with him, but just walking together and talking was nice enough. Wanda was right about him, too - free from a love spell, Steve Rogers was a different man, and it certainly didn't feel like you were talking to the same person you knew. It was a great relief. The memories of you and him together no longer hurt you.

"Did you know professor Gamora put us together for the next Combat class?" Steve smirked, and you raised your brow at him, walking by his side in the gardens.

Oh, this beefy prince with shoulders a mile wide thought he was so much stronger than you it was stupid to make you fight him. Ha! Of all people, he should have known you had some tricks up your sleeve: confident in your own powers, you weren't scared of him even the slightest bit.

"But you won't be too rough with me, will you?" You looked at him with puppy eyes, and the witcher melted, watching you with such soft expression on his face you almost felt guilty.

"Of course not!" He assured you immediately, and you saw your good old Steve, a true gentleman who would never hurt a lady - except those ones who tried clawing his eyes out.

You're going to have sooo much fun tomorrow, you thought as you softly run your hand up his shoulder, seeing Steve's blushing cheeks and chuckling. He wanted to play a game? Then he couldn't complain if you were going to play by your own rules.

The next day Gamora really put you together with him just like he said, but you were more or less prepared this time, shocked faces of your classmates only making you grin. What, did they think you were utterly harmless? Or was it because the rumor about Steve devouring a spirit was everywhere now? Winking at the guy who sent you a sweet smile, you rubbed your palms together, knowing well professor Gamora didn't mind when her students used tricks of any kind as long as they weren't prohibited by school rules.

"No magic higher than second level, no cold weapons, and you, dear," she looked directly at you, "get 10% to your final exam mark if you put your opponent down to the ground."

You heard excited whisper - a warrior witch rarely gave 10% up on her classes, and even 5% raise was considered a big deal. Why was she ready to give you whole 10%? Was it because Steve was a serious opponent or she just thought you'd find it particularly hard fighting the guy you shared a love spell with?

"One."

You immediately took your place opposite Steve.

"Two."

Both of you smiled, and you wondered if your plan was too cheeky. Seriously, was Steve even going to buy it? He was an experienced witcher, not some first-year student just out of highschool.

"Three."

He reacted quicker than you, and then next moment the man was ready to grab you with his hands, using an easy but effective binding spell to restrain your movements. You predicted his move, knowing it was his favourite tactic to fight someone he didn't want to fight, so the second he got close you grasped the fabric of his mantle and stood on your tip toes, giving him a light peck on the lips. Actually, you wanted just to blew air on his face and finish with dizzlying charms to quickly put him down, but Steve reached out to you faster than you thought, so you had to change your tactics immediately.

He froze on the spot with a surprised expression on his face, reaching out to you again for another kiss, but you had already put your palm on his chest, finishing Steve off with a numbing spell and carefully levitating his huge body to the ground where he laid, looking at you dumbfounded. You got him.

Hearing nothing, you swallowed nervously, hoping Gamora wasn't going to sent you off immediately for inappropriate behavior. The next moment she, however, bursted out laughing.

"This is what I call using your brain, kids. Learn!" she barked out a laugh and then turned to you. "Great job! It was barely half a minute. 10% are yours."

Steve groaned from the ground, and you sent him a cheeky smile.

"Professor, could you give her 10% more so she'd kiss me again?" he asked, and other students giggled behind your back as you stared at Steve with a smile.

Thank goodness, he wasn't mad at you for your trick.

"My, my, I didn't know you can be so bold!" she grinned. "But listen to a married woman, you better try a bouquet of roses or a nice restaurant. I can give you some tips to make the second kiss happen faster."

________

Now you laughed as much as everyone, even Steve shaking on the ground, giggling.

Part III

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @melodie-rin @yeolliedokai @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess

[anywherebuthere]

I had a dream about you last night || j.p.

James Potter x fem!reader

“Even when you’re gone, you are all that haunts my dreams.”

Wordcount: 1969

A/N: Happy (belated) birthday to the only man ever <33 I am illiterate, so I had a mental breakdown writing this <3 please enjoy!! special thanks to @anchoeritic and @gxtitobxby for supporting me via discord and for making fun of the time I got hit by a car :)) @skullsontess07​ I finally posted it pls don’t hurt me <33

Warnings: alcohol, allusions to sex, death, bad writing, especially towards the end. barely proofread because I don’t believe in mistakes <3 /j

Please do not repost this!! I do not consent to this piece of fiction being published on any other site besides tumblr unless it by my doing.

The ticking of the grandfather clock thrummed in James’ ears as he tipped back the empty bottle, the smell of whiskey heavy in the air. He leaned his head against the cold surface of the white plaster wall, scanning the textured ceiling with misty eyes. His home, still half furnished, was riddled with traces of something better forgotten. Even with the weight of alcohol on his breath, his mind is running with memories and daydreams of her. 

He closed his eyes, forcing the imagery away. In the distance, a train chugged on, its lone whistle echoing in the night, and James can’t help but be pulled into an uneasy slumber, memories still flashing through his mind like a broken film. 

-

“Prongs, you git! We’re going to miss the train if you don’t hurry your fat arse.” Remus shouted, frustration seeping into his humoured voice. 

“Relax Moony, we’ll be fine,” he replied, breath heaving slightly from sprinting across Platform 9¾, just narrowly having avoided knocking over an elderly witch. 

As the four boys approached the entrance of the cart, the train’s departing whistle blared. They boarded quickly, though not without receiving a glare from a crew member.

Hurrying down the corridor, the boys glanced through every compartment window, though each appeared to be full of giggling sixth years. That is, with the exception of one.

Near the back end of the Hogwarts Express, was, at last, an empty compartment save for a singular figure slumped against the window. With no other choice of seating, the gaggle of boys slipped in silently, Sirius and Remus snagging the seats opposite to the slumbering girl, their pinkies linked as they whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves. 

Peter, as adverse to the female race as ever, took the seat closest to the door, leaving James to be wedged between the mousy blonde and the stranger, careful not to bump her with his broad shoulders.

The train ride was filled with hushed whispers as the marauders discussed this year's prank for the welcoming feast, a customary tradition they held sacred, as to “start the year right.” 

As they began going over the mechanisms of their plan, they felt the train begin to swerve as it approached a sharp turn. The compartment shook slightly and James suddenly felt a weight on his right side.

He stiffened, glancing over to see that the girl’s head had lulled over from the compartment wall and onto his shoulder. James recognized her as a student in their year. Y/N, who had tutored Regulus the same day that James had helped Sirius prank him as petty revenge for a now long-forgotten argument. 

And well, perhaps James had wanted her to notice him for once. If so, it had been a successful endeavour as he remembered the way her face had contorted in anger, though her attention had remained just as elusive for the remainder of their fifth year. So… perhaps not so successful.

He flushed at the memory. She was now even prettier than the year prior.

“Oh? Is that a blush we see, Moony?” Sirius taunted, nudging Remus with his elbow as he snickered at James’ scowl.

“Bloody hell, piss off, will you? You’ll wake her–” 

He felt her suddenly stir beside him, brows creasing as though on the cusp of consciousness. 

James held his breath.

The moment passed as Y/N nudged her face further into the crook of his neck before settling back into a peaceful slumber.

Perhaps he wouldn’t need the prank to start the year right this time around. 

-

It seemed that sixth year would be a good one for James. 

In the early morning of a mid-March day, an unlikely scene unfolded between the shelves of Hogwarts’ library. There he sat beside a bleary Y/N, voice still drowsy with sleep as she read aloud a passage from the Herbology textbook perched between them.

Initially, James had detested the thought of having to wake up at such an ungodly hour for the sake of a project. No other time had fit, not with his Quidditch practices and her absurd number of tutoring sessions. 

Though now, as the early rays of sunrise filtered through the library’s mullioned windows onto her skin, James thinks that there is nowhere else he would rather be.

He thinks this moment will be ingrained in his mind forever. 

“–once a century, the Flutterby bush produces flowers able to attract the unwary.” she paused to yawn, eyebags evident as she turned to meet James’ gaze. She scrunched her nose and he swore he swooned at the very sight. “Are you even listening to me, Potter?”

“I’m always listening to you,” he replied, tilting his head. She grins in response and he notices just how beautiful it is. 

She shifted her gaze back to the textbook lying in their laps, picking up where she had left off.

“Its scent adapts–”

James leaned forward suddenly, capturing her lips in his. The book fell closed between them.

Immediately, almost though by instinct, Y/N reciprocates, moving her lips gently against his as her hand cups his cheek. James finds himself gripping that hand as his other wraps around her waist, finding the small of her back and pulling her impossibly close against him.

She tasted of cherry chapstick and peppermint bubblegum, and though there was nothing particularly special about those flavours, on her, James swears that he could drown in his intoxication alone. Her perfume wafts through the air, the scent causing him to groan against her mouth. 

When they separated at last, his head was swimming in euphoria, his expression dazed. Y/N blinked up at him, sleep wiped entirely from her expression.

“Its scent adapts itself during these times to attract said unwary.” she finishes, sounding breathless still, voice trailing off as James began to laugh hysterically.

She rolled her eyes, smiling sheepishly. 

When James still couldn’t stop laughing, Y/N gripped his haphazardly tied red and gold tie, using it to pull his soft lips against hers once more and he was sure in his mind that there would no one else for him.

-

Beneath a great oak tree in the courtyard lay two figures. Under the tree’s twisting branches, they hid in its cool shade from the sweltering afternoon sun. Few places aside from the castle offered shelter from June’s blistering heat and as the semester approached its end, they finally allowed themselves to rest in the gentle breeze. 

James was leaning against the thick trunk while Y/N’s head lay in his lap. His elbow was resting on her abdomen as she drew on his hand, doodling intricate flower designs alongside some… less desirable things.

He felt his heart swell with joy as her laughter filled the summer air and before he could catch himself, he blurted out the thought that had been weighing in the back of his mind since they had started dating.

“Do you ever think about your future?" 

He felt the scratch of her muggle pen slow, as though pausing in thought.

"I want to grow old and die surrounded with people I love, knowing I lived a long and fulfilling life. You know, typical boring stuff," she replied after a moment's consideration. Her eyes twinkled with more, though Y/N never indulged in half-thought-out plans. 

"What about you?" she questioned with the tip of her head. James didn’t need time to think about it. He had known his answer since that fateful September morning when she had slept on his shoulder throughout the entirety of the train ride.

"I don't care what my future is as long as you're there" he answers truthfully.

Y/N flushed, her ears heated. She looked away, the corners of her lips turning up in the barest hint of a smile.

James freed his hand from her loose grasp, hooking her chin to look back towards him before leaning in to kiss her.

Even after all these months, he relished in the taste of her lips. He doubts he’ll ever be able to get enough of the feeling.

He doubts he’ll ever be able to get enough of her.

-

The sun was setting in the west on a quiet evening, its golden rays shining on the slick skin of two lovers as they untangled themselves from the sheets, unable to hold in their laughter when one got his foot stuck in the knot of their crochet blanket. 

The air hung heavy with the scent of sweat and endorphins as Y/N laid back, her body still bare, not bothering to cover it.

James propped his elbow beside her head, careful not to press on her spread-out hair, his face filled with ecstasy and pure bliss. 

He will never get used to the sight of her in his bed, giggling as the sun reflected off her silky skin. The image of her underneath him is cemented in his mind, permanently lodged there as solid as concrete. He knows now with absolute certainty that there would be no one else for him. 

James’ smile widened further as he nudged his nose into the crook of her neck, leaning in to place a kiss there when his vision blurred.

It was no longer sunset. Rather, the two of them were now enveloped in the dark of night and James is certain he hears the echo of a familiar spell ring off in the distance.

He pulls away from Y/N’s neck. 

She was no longer shaking with laughter, but rather, writhing in pain. There were lacerations all across her torso and James felt something sticky underneath his hands.

They were laying in a pool of her blood.

Panic clawed at his throat and though he had never been averse to the sight of blood, yours was an exception. The taste of bile clung to his tongue. 

“No... No no no no no,” he whispered in disbelief. Swivelling his head, outside the window, he spots a cloaked figure wearing a mask of silver disapparate. 

“No!” 

Grasping for the wand strapped to his side, he murmurs a healing spell, gasping for breath when the wounds remain open. His head was spiralling as Y/N shook her head almost imperceptibly, grabbing at his wrist with a shaking hand.

Carved into her arm was the word “MUDBLOOD” and James felt his vision turn red, suddenly hyper-aware of the blood pumping through his veins.

“James…” she rasped. He gripped her shaking hand.

“Why isn’t it working? Why?” he cried, tears streaming down his face, struggling to breathe.

“Whatever our souls are made of,” she gasped, blood spurting out of her mouth. Her beautiful mouth, the one that tasted of cherries and peppermint, was covered in thick, crimson blood. “you and I are connected.” 

“No! Stop with this rubbish, you’re not going to die!” he sobbed, gripping her bloodied hand like a vice. She continued as though he hadn’t even spoken.

Perhaps she was too far gone to hear him.

“Wh-whatever is beyond this life,” violent ruby coated her mouth as she coughed, blood splattering onto her smooth skin. “Promise me, y-you’ll find me again.”

“I promise,” he cried, sobs racking through his body. 

But she was already gone.

-

James woke with a start, gasping for breath with the taste of blood and “promise” still coating his tongue. He was alone in a house built for two.

In his fitful sleep, he had knocked over the empty bottle of whiskey beside him.

She had hated whiskey.

Had. 

A fresh wave of misery washed over James, adding to the dull pain that never seemed to go away, throbbing through him as naturally as the blood in his veins. It wasn’t enough that she existed still within every corner of their shared home.

Even in his dreams, he is haunted by her memory.

ㄧ

@catching-the-train-to-hogwarts