fantasyandshit

[fantasyandshit]

“Forbidden fruit”

Chan x member!reader

I haven’t been able to get this song out of my head and recently the scenario so here it goes

I fidget nervously as I wait for my cue to go on stage, Chan’s vocals the background of my growing panic, only causing it to be worse of course as it brings me back to last night.

(Im on my phone so I can’t italicize)

*Earlier*

Chan groans low in his throat as I try my vocals again, “You’re doing it wrong.” He snaps, voice quiet but his tone is harsh enough he doesn’t need to yell.

“What do you mean I’m doing it wrong?” I throw my hands up in air quotes around the word “wrong” my voice more strained than usual.

I’m tired, he’s tired, we’ve been at this for hours, perfecting our surprise duet for the fans, almost obsessively. A glance to the clock would show the blaring 2:00 am, but neither of us care to- or dare to acknowledge the outrages time in the studio.

“You can’t seem to do anything right! The fans are gonna be disappointed and it’s your fault! The dance earlier-“

I cut him off, “I stumbled ONE time Chan!”

“And now you can’t even get your voice high enough- hell I can go higher!” He continues ranting, voice growing in tension and volume as he goes, stepping closer to me slowly.

“Maybe this is a mistake then!” He knows I don’t just mean the song, knows the depth behind the words.

“Maybe it is!” He rips his hands from their place in his hair, panting softly. “we’re done for the night. Get home safe.” He grumbles lowkey as he storms from the room.

I breathe in as stead as I can, sinking to the floor as I try to calm down. Blinking, I notice the tears falling down my face. “This is ridiculous.” I pick myself up from the floor, starting a new track (idk music stuff) and singing my lines again, I’ll get it right.

——

“Have you seen Yn noona?” Jeongin speaks, swallowing a mouthful of egg.

“Come to think of it no. Not since last night. Channie Hyung?”

“Huh?” He picks his head up from the table at the sound of Felix’s voice, eyes tired and red.

“When you came home, was Yn with you?”

“Ye-“ he cursed himself off as he thinks, no, she never followed him out. “No.”

“What do you mean no! You always leave together, how late were you there anyway!”

“I- we had an argument, I left at two. I guess I was so angry I didn’t stop to think if she followed me out or not.”

“Chan!” Everyone around the table exclaims, Minho even snaking him upside the back of his head softly.

Just as the panic begins to set in, the front door to the door opens and soft footsteps approach the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late, I missed my alarm.”

Yn looks worse than Chan, eye bags deep and dark, eyes red and puffy. She makes her way to the table slowly, freshly made cup of coffee in hand, thank you Changbin. She plops in a chair unceremoniously, taking an apple from the bowl in the center of the table. “I got those vocals re-recorded. They should be right this time.”

The words, whilst calm, tear through Chan. “How late were you out noona?” Jisung’s voice pulls him from his thoughts

Her head falls back as she thinks, “uh, I think like 4. I don’t, I don’t know.”

Again, sounds of protests fill the dining room, and Chan nervously looks to the girl, regret filling him even further than the night before.

———

(Now)

“You’re my forbidden fruit- forbidden fruit.”

Chans voice fades as the ring carrying me slowly comes to the stage, my voice filling the stadium, fog flowing out and covering the stage, the lights harsh and soft all at the same time.

“I had a taste, there’s nothing sweeter. On my lips I’ve kissed the reaper.”

I step down, dress trailing behind me as I step forward, making my way to a huffing Chan, who stands perfectly poised. I can’t help but admire the way the light hits his white suit, ruffled lightly from the effort of his performance. Our voices begin again, together this time as I continue my path, “it’s so much stronger than you know.”

I meet him finally, hand falling into his, my face desperate as my voice, “Temptation, I can’t escape you. Escape you.” Tears fall from my eyes unwillingly as we spin, reminding me of a scene from phantom of the opera or some other movie similar.

We part dramatically again, “clawing” to each other.

“Oh- temptation, I can’t escape you. Escape you. Desire, you’re my forbidden fruit, forbidden fruit.” The song ends with his hand softly rested on my face, thumb whipping at the tears as the music fades and the lights dim.

——

Screams erupt from the stands, fans yelling and shrieking at our performance. Did I do good? Did I do it right this time? I don’t realize I’ve spoken the words out loud until I hear Chan, softer than I think I’ve ever heard, “yes. Yes you did everything right, you did it perfect, you always do it perfect.”

We can’t seem to pull ourselves apart until we are forced by staff, the one taking my grumbling at the moisture on my face, ushering me to the makeup station for a touch up before we’re rushed back out with the rest of the members this time.

We all speak, closing the concert for the night, thanking Stay, hoping they enjoyed the surprise song as we duck back behind stage with a collective sigh.

———

“Damn. Channie hyping and Yn are going crazy viral. Everyone loves you guys.”

“Yeah! You’re being shipped harder than before!”

“I agree with Stay on this one, the chemistry out there was crazy. And you’re tears- amazing touch noona!”

I blush as the boys continue to go on about the performance and the reaction from it, stays are going crazy.

They liked it. I did it right. I did good.

I still refuse to talk to Chan about what happened, anytime he tries to bring it up I find a way to leave, I’m too scared about what it means. About what else comes after that.

—————

Ok I hope I did good, I haven’t written in literally forever. Let me know if I should do a part two or a full before??

[fantasyandshit]

🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

[fantasyandshit]

"I am Nadine… an ordinary woman in an extraordinary place. A mother, just trying to protect a small life in a world that has lost its meaning." 🌸

Hello, My name is Nadine. I am a Palestinian mother to a little girl who has become the center of my life and the reason for my strength. 💖 We live today in harsh circumstances, unlike anything we knew life to be. Our home is no longer a home… we live in displacement, fear, lack of food, absence of medicine, and a lack of safety. 😔

Yet every morning, I open my eyes to my daughter's face, and I try again. 🌞 Because she is here, I must stay strong. 💪 Because she is small, I need to create a safe world for her… even though my world is broken.

We don't have much, but we hold on to each other. 🤝

I write these words to share a moment of our reality that you may not see in the news. I’m not seeking pity, nor do I want to burden anyone… All I ask is that my words reach a heart that knows compassion, and understands that help, even in the smallest form, can make a big difference in someone's life like ours. ✨

Life here doesn’t go as it should… but it goes on. We live on hope, the kindness of strangers, words of encouragement, and hands that reach out at the right time. 🌟 Maybe you can’t change everything, but you can change one day in our lives… And one day with dignity is all we need to keep fighting. 💫

Even a kind word, sharing this post, or a sincere prayer… all of that makes a difference to us. 🙏

Thank you… from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for being here, for reading, for not turning a blind eye. To everyone who passed by here and left a kind mark: You are part of our strength. 🌷 From me and my little one: All my gratitude and all my prayers. 💖

[fantasyandshit]

Hi there,

I’m reaching out with a quiet hope in my heart. These days are heavy, and my family is living through a reality filled with uncertainty—but I’m still here, doing my best to hold on and keep going.

If you have a moment, please check out my pinned post.

A simple share could help it reach someone who might be able to make a difference.

If you’re able to give, even the smallest kindness can bring light into the darkest places.

Your time, your voice, your compassion — it all matters more than you know.

With deep gratitude,

@nadinfamily

💗💗💗

Sending all the love and support to you and your family in these terrible times

[fantasyandshit]

Hey 💌 I’m Saja — a mother trying to hold onto hope through days that feel impossibly heavy.

I know you probably see a lot online, but if you could take just a moment… I’d be so grateful.

💫 A reblog of my pinned post could help our story reach someone who cares.

🌿 And if you’re in a place to give, even a small donation could bring comfort to my daughter and help us feel safe again.

@sajagz, thank you for listening.

Even gentle support creates strength.

From one heart to another — thank you 🤍

💗💗💗

Sending all the love and support to you and your family

[fantasyandshit]

Not him…

Liam Mairi x sister reader/ Xaden Riorson x reader

Reread fourth wing and Liam’s death made me cry again so yall get to suffer too.

We have no chance. One of the many thoughts going through my head as I try desperately to listen to Xaden give out quick orders to everyone before we leave the safety of the post. I meet my boyfriend’s eyes once he’s done, stepping up to him and embracing for- what could be- the last time; with a deep kiss and one last hug I pull away. “I love you. Stay alive for me.”

“I love you too. Don’t stop fighting.”

Dread fills me as I step away and am immediately pulled into my twin brothers arms. “Mairi’s don’t go down without a fight yeah?”

“Never without a fight.” I link my pinky with his, hands preforming the memorized hand shake we’ve done since childhood and we separate and step outside where our dragons wait.

A deep dread fills me as I mount Dughn and we’re off.

Soon we’re over the town and I spot the venin- somehow creepier than I imagined they would be. They wield a type of blue fire I’ve never seen, and through the bond Dughn informs me that they are headed to a clock tower- headed for a highly unstable box with my family crest on it. But my priority has to be my family and the civilians that will die without us.

———

I’m pulled every which way in battle, fighting to just barely survive, one of the Wyvern was able to get a hold of Dughn several minutes ago, but he insists he’s fine.

“It’s an insult that you believe an abomination such as that could wound me any deeper than a scratch, human.”

I roll my eyes before focusing back on what’s in front of me.

Gods I wish I hadn’t

I wish I could erase this from my memory

From history

Just as I look up I hear Deigh let out a devastating roar, soon followed by a weak, shrill cry.

A hand shoots to my mouth. No. No no no no. No because if he’s- he’s not-

“He’s gone little one.”

That means- A dragon without their rider is a tragedy.

“A rider without their dragon. Is dead”

“LIAM!”

Fly fast Dughn. Faster please. The wind beats against my face as I spot my brother, weak and being held by Violet on Tairns back.

I land, running faster than ever before to the giant dragons side, getting far closer than one ever should to a dragon that isn’t their own.

“Violet!” Her name comes out more of a sob than anything and as I look at her I see the tears pouring down her face as she shakes her head, getting herself and Liam off the dragon as best she can.

I take his limp body and support him against my shoulder as best I can. “Deigh.”

“I know brother. I’m bringing you to him. I’ll get you to him I promise.” I’m unable to process that this is truly happening. My brother.

My brother who has never done any wrong in his entire life, has no wrongdoing in his soul.

Is dying.

Liam tumbles as I struggle to support his weight, he’s too weak to walk and falls to his knees, followed by me. I haul him back up the best I can with a strangled cry, and we stumble a few steps further. Xaden walks up soon, taking him into his arms with a short nod, taking him to his beloved dragon.

As he’s set to rest against Deigh’s shoulder, Caden steps away enough to give me space.

“You can’t leave me yet. Please not yet.”

“We both knew we weren’t gonna live long- and, I wouldn’t mind seeing mom and dad again.”

“No! No they can’t- they won’t be ready to see you yet! I was supposed to- I PROMISED to protect you. I swore I wouldn’t let them see you first.” My words die, and his hand shakily comes up to my cheek, whiping whatever he can before the strength leaves him and his hand falls.

I take it into my own, pressing myself against his body. “It’s gonna be ok. You’ll be here to take care of Sloane. Yeah? Raise her good and keep her out of trouble.” A shuddering, raspy breath. “You gotta live long enough to give me my nieces and nephews too. Even if they’re Xadens.” Another far to weak breath. “I’ll give you my blessing.”

“I love you sis. I’ll see you on the other side.”

His chest rises again, I feel it pressing against my cheek and then…

And then it never falls.

I turn, taking his face in my hands, “Liam. Liam? Liam come on. Please. This isn’t funny. Wake up.”

But he’s never gonna wake up again.

I’m never going to see his eyes shine again.

Never gonna make fun of him again.

Never gonna wrestle again.

Never gonna- thoughts rush through my mind, memories of our lives.

A shriek leaves me, a sound so loud and shrill, so devastating, that I’m sure the mountains shake. I scream, my chest feels like it’s ripping open as I fall against Liam’s.

“I love you too…”

—

“Come on love. I need you to move. They will kill you if you stay on the ground any longer.”

“Let them.”

“You know he’d want you to fight.”

I want to fight back, but

He’s right. I need to fight. I need to kill those ugly motherfuckers who murdered my brother. I will make every single one of them suffer, I will not let him die in vain.

I stand up, legs wobbling momentarily before I’m back on Dughns back, getting a soft smile and nod from Xaden.

——

“It’s on my back!”

I jump and turn around as fast as I can at Dughns words- and sure enough, one of the creatures is staring straight at me.

Rage like I’ve never felt before fills me, boils my blood and fills every crevice of my being. The creature must notice as it chuckles lowly.

Strings of light lash out, trying to get a grip on the Venin.

How.

It’s- dodging? Them.

“Ah the light wielder. I’ve heard almost as much about you as I have the lightning one.”

Senseless words continue to spill from its mouth and a Wyvern screams so close to us it rumbled my bones as it falls, it apparently catches the Venins attention too. I take the chance and my light wraps around it, binding it for- who knows how long- seconds probably.

I lunge as the being thrashes, slitting its throat with my dagger, and as I do so, it smirks.

And I feel the dagger- now in my side twist. As I let the Venin fall, I look down to find its own dagger now embedded in my side.

Well shit.

And I’m falling.

—————

Ok guys. Not gonna lie this sucks but I hit writers block like half way through soooo.

[fantasyandshit]

Nothing needs to be said. I am here for yall

REBLOG IF YOU ARE AGAINST TRUMP AND PROJECT 2025

REBLOG IF YOUR BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR PEOPLE WHO NO LONGER HAVE ONE IRL

[fantasyandshit]

The light and the dark (remake) masterlist

Part one

Part two

[fantasyandshit]

The light and the dark (remake) pt.2

Type:series

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!reader

Part one

I stomp up the stairs, front door slamming behind me. After failing to get to my lost sister yet again, I had gone to the ring. I won, but the bastard had a blade- illegal in these rings- and got me in my bad shoulder, one that’s bothered me for years. The scars across my face itch as the warm air of the house blasts me.

“I’m home!” It’s right around dinner time so I decide to journey into the dining room where I presume my sisters are. I step through the threshold, eyes still down as I slide my jacket off my body, placing it on the wrack, as I do so, rolling my shoulders with a wince, I speak out loud. “Where’s that first aid kit again? This bastard had a knife, got me right in my shoulder.” I pause, “it’s not to deep which is good though. Plus I won.”

I finally turn around.

And what I see

Makes me freeze.

“Feyre.” Her name is a breath on my lips as I step forward once hesitantly before launching into her cautiously opened arms. “Gods I’ve missed you.” I breathe in her sent, tears welling in my eyes as I pull back just far enough to look at her face.

Feyre was always gorgeous, but she’d somehow gotten even more beautiful than I remember. My eyes trail to her ears- pointed, she’s a fae. My hand comes up before I can stop myself, tracing the delicate tips of them, brushing her hair behind them which causes her eyes to close softly. “Beautiful.” It’s then I notice the tensed stance of the male behind her, but I barely register him as I take in my lost sister.

She chuckles, hands unraveling from me as we step back. “I’ve missed you to little sister.” She smiles down at me, her cheeks fuller, skin less pale and freckles popping along her face.

Now. I notice the three males also present, and my eyes fall to the one who seems most on edge with my sister.

“You.” I seethe and not another second passes before I’m on the fae, he’s knocked to the ground and my hand pummels his face. “You did this.” A mother blow to his jaw, “you took her from me.” This time to his cheek. His eye. His jaw again. And then. I feel something soft wrap around my waist, lifting me from him.

I struggle, fighting the entities that carry me, “Get off of me! Let me get-“

“Yn! Yn! Please calm down.” My sisters voice pulls me from my stoop as I’m set down softly. It’s then I realize what had lifted me, they look like shadows, streamers of darkness and for a moment I stare in awe, snapped back to reality by Feyre speaking again. “Yn. This is Rhysand,” she points to the mail, rubbing his jaw, his violet eyes crinkling as he chuckles slightly at me.

“He didn’t take me. He saved me. And he is my mate.”

Mates. I had heard of them, something fae had, like lovers bound by the mother. Still, I glare at the male in question, “How do I know he didn’t tell you to say that?”

He laughs again, “I can show you. If you’re ok with that. Her memories. I am a daemeti.”

Ah yes I’ve read about them, able to get into one’s mind. I look to Feyre skeptically and she nods softly, nothing “it’s ok.”

Finally, I nod, closing my eyes as I feel claws run down my mental walls which I let down.

When my eyes open again, I turn stunned, poor Feyre. She’d been through hell.

And then, “You! She’s been here before! You knew she was alive, what she was doing?!” My finger is pointed at Nesta now.

“You didn’t need to know.”

“Find need to know? Are you fucking stupid?”

“Do not speak to me that way.”

“No you shut the hell up! Get off your high horse! She’s my sister too. Mine! And you let me continue searching for her, listened to my screams at night! And you knew! You knew she was alive, you know what was going on! You are absolutely unbelievable do you know that?”

I turn to Elaine now, anger still bubbling in my veins. “And you too? You dare betray me like this? How dare you, you listened to my nightmares, patched me from the forest and held me as I cried for her! You still hid this! You are a horrible sister! Both of you!”

“Knock it off Yn! You don’t get to speak to us that war!”

“Oh fuck off Nesta.”

A hand on my shoulder and I whirl around. Feyre, gods Feyre. She’s here. She’s alive and she well and she’s- gods I can’t believe I get to see her again. I finally feel the witness dripping down my cheeks as my head falls onto her shoulder, my body shaking.

“It’s ok. Breathe for me.”

—————

After calming down, I apologize to the three males- two of which I somehow hadn’t noticed until recently. The shadows, I notice swirl around the male with blue siphons. Their huge wings nearly bumping the walls, Illyrians, a warrior race like no other.

“I apologize for the stress and scare we’ve caused you. But I’d like to introduce myself properly.” The fae with violet eyes speaks, Rhysand and the one clad in red siphons snorts lowly. “I am Rhysand, high lord of the Night court.”

After shaking his hand with a small bow, still embarrassed for attacking him earlier no matter how many times he assured me it was fine and ‘quite amusing to see a human try taking a fae.’ I turn to the others.

“Cassian. And might I add that I agree with Rhysand. That was quite the show.” He chuckles as I take his hand, bowing slightly.

“I’m Azriel.” Gods his voice is smooth, like whiskey as he speaks. He takes my hand in his glove clad one, kissing the top of it softly.

“Your a shadowsinger correct? I’ve read about your kind before.”

He seems surprised, clearing his throat before speaking, “Yes. My kind are extremely uncommon. I’m the only of our time that we know of.”

“Incredible. So do you control them?”

A soft chuckle, my cheeks turn red as he begins again, a small smile gracing his feature, “not exactly. They speak to me, and I them, they choose to follow me and my command.”

“That’s amazing.”

“And you, your known as the Lord of Bloodshed correct?” A small huff leaves me? “Now where does a male get a name like that?”

This catches him off guard, before I smirk comes across his face, “I am known by many as that. But I’m just cassian to you darling.” A wink, I roll my eyes at his antics as he continues, “And as to where I get that name. I feel as though it’s fairly obvious.”

Rhysand cuts in, “Yn. You had mental walls built, how? How did you know, how did you learn?”

My eyes widen at the question, my hand coming to the back of my neck, “Well I’ve studied fae for many years, and I felt as though it may be useful if your kind did truly exist. Darmetis I mean.”

“Smart girl. I heard from your sister that you loved history, reading.”

“I-I do.” I don’t know why my face is red but it is.

—————

We eventually end up sitting at the table, dinner is served and Azriel is patching up my shoulder. No matter how much I protested, he insisted until I finally gave in.

“There you go. All done.”

“Thank you. Really.”

We all eat in practical silence, the tension in the room high as I still feel Nesta wondering glare scan over my face every now and again.

“So Yn. How’d you get that scar on your face. It looks badass.”

I freeze at the question, a shiver running up my back, I feel Feyre bristle at the question as well, but I clear my throat, speaking quietly. “Well when Tamlin came, I tried attacking him. He batted me to the side like a fly. His claws caught me in the process and they haven’t exactly healed properly.”

The three males grumble, clearly not fans of the beast either.

—————

I nearly begin crying again as Feyre leaves at the end of the night, begging her to take her with me. In the end I am unable and make her promise I’ll see her again. That we’ll be together again one day, which she agrees to, kissing my forehead softly on last time before disappearing into the night.

[fantasyandshit]

The light and the dark (remake!)

Type: Series

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!reader

Part two

I spot Feyre coming down the path immediately and after wiping my brow and setting the axe down, I rush to her side. She carries a deer over her shoulder, but this time is covered oddly in wolf skin. I decide I’ll ask her about that later, taking the animal from her quickly as we make our way inside. I can hear her slight protests as I push the door open but I don’t care, she’s been out all day, the least I can do is take the damn thing inside to prepare it.

The deer lands on the table with a loud ‘thump’ and I swivel around to take a knife off the counter. “I thought Nesta was supposed to be chopping wood today?”

“She uh- she didn’t want to.” I pause as I bring the knife down on the first bit of meat, “I figured I’d handle it for her.” My shoulder twitches as I bring the knife down again, the bastard at the ring today had a mean punch.

My sister of course noticed this immediately, “What happened to your shoulder?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

She turns to Nesta now, with a huff, “Why’d you let her chop wood if she was hurt?”

“She seemed fine.”

I can tell my sister’s anger is rising and I make quick work of trying to tone down the situation, “And Nesta would be right. I’m fine, I promise sis.”

Knowing it’s not worth the fight, Feyre sighs before moving to the other side of the carcass and beginning to chop the meat up. “Feyre, stop.” My brows furrow, “You’ve been out hunting all day, go sit.”

“I’m fine.” And gods the level of sass in her voice almost made me laugh.

I huff, unable to argue and continue my job, “so the wolf…how’d that uhm- how’d that happen.”

“Well it was gonna-“ she’s stopped mid sentence by the door busting open. Elain shrieks, hiding behind Nesta and our father, Feyre and I whip around to see a giant beast.

A fae

That’s what it has to be, Antlers and the body of bear, the head of a wolf?

“Who killed the wolf?”

I turn to my sister, she’s practically vibrating and it’s then it hits me, staring at her pale skin..the wolf hide, my eyes shift to said object on the table.

Before another second passes I speak up “I did.” But apparently my sister had the same idea. Our voices are in unison but the beast seems to know, his head turning to bore holes in my sister skull, he steps one paw forward, prowling to his pray.

It’s them I take the risk, adjusting the knife in my hand, I lunge, plunging it into the fae’s shoulder, only to be swatted at like a fly by its massive paw, sending me flying into the wall.

I hear muffled voices and screams and then. Nothing. Everything’s gone. Peace.

—————

When I awake next, I’m in a carriage. Groaning I look around, hissing as I push myself up. I take a head count as I hear someone gasp beside me.

Nesta

Elain

Feyre

Wait

Where’s Feyre?

This spooks me and I shift up swiftly, “Where’s Feyre?” My head swivels wildly, Elain asks me to calm down but my sisters gone. How are they calm?

“She’s gone. Off to Aunties house. Don’t you remember?”

Yes, it clicks now. But not..fully. Something feels off, I touch a hand to my face, deep cuts in the shape of claws run down the whole of it.

What is going on?

—————

I fly up in bed, blanket sliding off my body. I’m shaking, I think I was screaming, my throat feels like I was screaming. Cold sweat drips down my forehead and I rise onto shaking feet, heading to my bathroom.

I breathe as cold water surrounds me. I fall back. Back. Back…

A beast burst through the door

“Who killed the wolf?”

“I did”

“I did”

Sharp claws dig into my face, sending me back to the wall.

“Your sister. In return for your safety. Your families safety.”

“I’ll do it.”

I gasp, my head shooting from under water as I splutter.

What is going on?

Where is my sister?

——————————

Okkkkk here we go Part one done! What do you guys think? Love y’all!!

[fantasyandshit]

Ok guys I’m sorry for how long I’ve had to be gone, life’s just been too much recently and I’ve had major writers block. BUT I’m back! I know my asks are far gone so I may struggle with those and I deeply apologize. I think I may start with rewriting my very first series though.

The light and the dark

If any of you have been here long enough to know it, you’ll know it’s…not great, it needs some revamping so I’ll keep the old discontinued version up but I’ll be rewriting the series again now.

Love y’all and hope you have a great day!!

[fantasyandshit]

Be mine?

Paring: Spencer Reid x reader

Type: Onshot

Based on this request

Masterlist here

Sorry, it’s a bit short

“Darling, we have to get up now.” My boyfriend, simply groans in protest, continuing to pepper soft kisses across my shoulders and face.

“Five more minutes.” I chuckle at him, mindlessly playing with his hair.

“We already had five more minutes.”

“Ughhhhh I donwanna.” He’s so pouty in the morning.

Finally, after several minutes of ‘fighting’ we make it up, I head to the bathroom as he goes to the kitchen. Soon, I’m finished showering, dressed in work attire, and lazily grabbing the cup of coffee my boyfriend offers me; pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So, do I get to know where you plan to take me tonight?” I smirk slyly, giving Spencer puppy eyes. He told me he was taking me on a date tonight, but nothing else and he hasn’t budged anytime I try and ask where it is.

“Mmm, nope. You’re just going to have to wait. Now, we can’t be late to work so let’s go.”

I scowl at his cheeky smile, collecting my keys and following him out the door.

———

“Hey pretty boy and gorgeous girl!” Derek greets us as we make it into the bullpen.

“Morning Derek.”

Spencer nods as we both continue on to our desks for our respective tasks, separating with a soft kiss. “Ewwww, gross.”

“Ah Emily, seems you’ll never get over that middle school faze, even though it’s been three years.”

The woman shrugs, “I can’t help it. Hate seeing my kids kiss.” My heart warms with the way she speaks of us, I kiss her cheek, giving her a small hug as I head to the coffee machine in need of more caffeine.

Looking over, I see Spencer blushing, Derek and Penelope smiling and laughing, whispering to the flustered man. “Hey! You two leave my boyfriend alone! He doesn’t need to be in your shenanigans!” Penelope giggles one last time, slipping away, Derek mumbles something before walking off as well.

“Th-thanks love.” Spencer then burrows his head back into his work.

———

“Spencer, this is beautiful.” My lovely boyfriend had taken me to a gorgeous restaurant, one I had no clue how he got into as the reservation list was long and hard to get onto.

“As are you” A pause, “You’ve talked about this for so long, figured it would be perfect for tonight.” The way he said it was a bit weird, but to be honest he’d been acting off for a few weeks now, however I brushed it off as he’s a very awkward man.

“Well yes, but it’s so hard to get into. Thank you so much love.”

“Of course. He leans in to give me a kiss before we are led to our table in the back.

———

Time flies as dinner is served, the food delicious, and The conversation lovely as always. My thoughts are interrupted as Spencer clears his throat.

“Yn, I- I love you more than my never ending vocabulary can ever describe. When I met you, for the first time I didn’t have anything I could say, nothing can properly describe your beauty. You have made me the happiest I have ever been, you’ve made me feeling truly alive. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He pauses, shuffling from his seat and kneeling in front of me slowly, reaching into his back pocket. My hands fly to my mouth at the realization of what’s happening, gaze brought upwards as our friends step forward from different areas in the room before I look back down to my boyfriend, both of us smiling with tears in our eyes.

“Yn, will you give me the gift, the pleasure and the treasure of making you my wife?” His voice wabbles as he opens the box, tears slipping from both our eyes now.

“Of course. Yes Spencer yes I will marry you!” I drop to the ground, giving my boyfriend fiancé a long, hard kiss, pulling away for him to slip the exquisite ring into my finger as our friends as well as random patrons cheer.

As we hug again, my fiancé whispers to me softly, “I love you so much darling, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you by my side.”

—————

Okkk, I am so so sorry for my absence and for the fact I’m very slow on my requests. I’ve been struggling a lot mentally, and facing some SERIOUS writers block. So, I hope this is good and that you all enjoyed. Love y’all!

[fantasyandshit]

This is the most adorable thing I’ve ever read. I’m laughing and crying and giggling and screaming all at once

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

[fantasyandshit]

okay we need a fluffy spencer reid x reader where he proposes to reader!! 💝

Yesss!

[fantasyandshit]

My girl

Pairing: Nesta x fem!reader

Type: Request oneshot

Based on this request

Masterlist here

———

A/n- I want to apologize for my absence, life has been very busy recently and I’ve had some serious writers block. But I’m back and gonna try really hard to get back into the groove of everything.

I adjust the neckline of my dark blue dress as I stare in the mirror attached to Nesta and I’s room. The dress is absolutely gorgeous, hugging my curves in all the right places, it’s a halter top, wrapping up and around my neck….but it’s just very…revealing. The neckline dips down to the base of my ribs, and a slit runs up each side, up to the top of my thighs. Nothing is left to the imagination as even the back is non existent. I feel bare to the world.

Finally, after a few more moments, I leave our room, making my way to the stairs. As I reach the top of the stairs case I pause for a moment, peaking behind a wall to see all of my family waiting for me, conversing with one another. They are al stunning as usual, dressed in blacks, deep purples and dark blues.

But Nesta

Fuck

Nesta looks drop dead fucking gorgeous. She wears a sparkling black dress, similar in stile to mine, however it’s only got one slit going up her right leg, stopping up her hip, something in me stirs at that- she’s mine and basically on full display. I let it go, my eyes catching on the swell of her breasts, partially visible due to the deep v-neck cut, a gold chain connecting the two sides.

I take another deep breath before finally stepping out from my hiding spot, slowly stepping down the stairs. “You look amazing Yn.”

“Thank you Rhys.”

As I meet the bottom of the stairs I turn to my mate, “You look absolutely divine my love.” Nesta voice is as smooth as velvet, traveling to my ears like a Melodie in the night. I reach forward, my hands meeting her hips.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like the prized piece of art in a museum, like the night sky and a field of flowers in the spring. You’re gorgeous darling.”

She smiles, her lips meeting mine softly, “you’ve always had your way with words haven’t you dove.” I smile at this, she’s always been quite the flirt.

“Ok love birds can we get going now?” We, begrudgingly, separate. Mor and Nesta take my hand, Feyre taking Rhys’ and cassian, and Amren taking Azriel’s, the three of us winnowing everyone to the autumn court.

Eris had officially become high lord, filling killing of Beron, and that meant a celebration had to be held. We land in the middle of the ball room, making an entrance as always.

“Ah Rhysand. You finally made it!” Eris throws his hands out in greeting, stepping down the dais to meet us. He shakes hands with everyone, all of us bowing to each other. “Well, enjoy. There’s wine and music, food and entertainment. The night is young and,” he pauses, turning up and projecting his voice for all to hear, “We. Are. Free!” I’ve never seen the young lord so care free, but it seems that with the burden of his father gone from the court, the air is clearer, the leaves brighter and the lights blinding.

Everyone cheers, high lords from every court, their guests, and the whole of the autumn court here to celebrate the new ruler.

Nesta wraps a hand around my waist, keeping me to her side as we mingle about the ball.

After some time, I decide to grab myself and my mate a glass of wine, I tap her as she speaks to a young female from winter and she turns her head to me. “I’m going to go grab us some drinks. I’ll be right back ok.”

She hesitates for a moment before sighing, releasing her hold on me, “ok. But be careful.”

I chuckle softly, nodding before reaching up to give her a kiss. I make my way to the bar, a soft smile planted on my lips as I wait for the bartender to get our drinks poured.

“Well hello there pretty lady.” A slimy voice hits me as a hand comes to my ass.

I spin, slapping the male across the face, “Get the hell off of me!”

“Oh come on. Don’t be such a brat. I just wanna have some fun.” He’s smirking, one hand rubbing the red molar I’ve left on his cheek.

“No. You’re a fucking creep, get the fuck away from me. My mate will be over here, and she won’t be so kind as to simply slap you across your greasy face. Do you understand?”

He chuckles a disgusting, wheezing laugh before moving back to trying to grab me, “Ooh, so two females, I can’t wait.”

Just then, he’s ripped from me, thrown to the floor. The music stops as he yelps. “You leave my mate alone. Do you understand, if you do not stay the hell. Away. From my mate. I will personally people the flesh from your bones and burn you slowly on a spick.”

He gulps, looking as if he’s about to cry as he nods frantically. Just then, Eris and two guards come forward, dragging him from the hall.

“I am so sorry ladies. He will be properly dealt with. I will make sure of it.”

I nod softly, “thank you Eris.”

I swear I hear a hiss leave Nesta, her hand finds its old place around me, “we’re leaving, take us home please darling.”

I nod softly, winnowing the two of us to the house of wind.”

Even after we land, Nesta refuses to let me go, fuming. “Nesta. Nesta it’s ok. Everything is ok.”

“No. No. Nothing is ok. His hands were on you. He touched you. He touched you and your mine.” She looks at me with furrowed brows and pinched lips.

“It’s ok now. You protected me. You got me out. It’s ok now.” I hug her tightly, kissing her softly as her hands relax in my hips. “It’s ok.” I breathe out.

—————

Sooo how was it for my first Nesta fic? I hope I did ok!

Love y’all, thanks for reading!

[fantasyandshit]

They’re just so- perfect

Type: one shot/drabble

Pairing: Lucien Vanserra x gn reader

Based on off this request

Masterlist here

*Luciens pov*

My eyes trail them as they bounds around the room. Gods are they beautiful. Me and Yn have been seeing each other for a while now, and everyday I am absolutely blown away by them. About how I got so lucky.

As I make eye contact with them- two drinks in their hands, I feel it.

Holy shit

They’re my mate.

I look at them in their star fall outfit, my eyes wide as I tug on the string in my chest. Upon Zoning back in, I notice the cups dropped to the floor, shattered around their feet.

Without consciously realizing it, I jump to my feet and practically run to them, picking them up and spinning them around.

“Your my mate!”

“Your mate!” They laugh excitedly, snuggling into my neck as we simply hug for what feels like forever.

I feel something wet in the crook of my neck and pull away, eyes frightened. Are they sad, upset? What’s going on?

“Why are you crying? Do you not want to be my mate?”

“No! No! Gods no! I’m so lucky to be your mate Lucien! I’m crying because I don’t know how I got so lucky!” They smile wide, oh my gods their smile. It’s so amazing, it brightens the whole room, like the sun has risen early. “Your crying to you know.” I hadn’t noticed the hot tears rolling down my face till their hands wiped a few away.

I smile, my hand wrapping around their own that still rests on my cheek. It’s so soft. So perfect, just like the rest of them. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Again with that smile, I’m nearly dead on the spot just looking at them. My mate. My. Perfect. Mate. I’m pulled away from my stuper as the first star falls, rushing through the sky. I turn, looking out to the sky, pulling my mates back into my chest.

As my mate marvels at the stars, I take the time to truly soak it in. Looking down at them, I can’t help the smile that spread across my face yet again.

———

I slide the ring onto my mates hand, pulling them in for a kiss. It was our mating ceremony, we held it in the night court, the beautiful gardens behind us. Eris, and the inner circle sat in the stands, as well as some friends of ours. It wasn’t a huge event, only having a bout 20 people in total but it was perfect. As I pull away, I simply stare at my mate. Gods I can’t take my eyes off of them, they’re just so, perfect.

I thank the mother everyday for blessing me with a mate like them. I watch as they dance with friends, laughing in that beautiful laugh they always do, it sounds like a song I could listen to ever minute of every day for the rest of my life. They’re smiles brightens the room as they throw their head back.

I simply marvel as usual, looking back on all of our memories so far and wondering what’s to come next.

————

Sorry I know it’s short! But I hope it was good! Love y’all and thanks for reading!

[fantasyandshit]

Can I have a cookie

Type: one shot

Pairing: Eris x fem reader

Based on this request

Master list here

Fluff, just fluffy fluff

“Love? It’s time to go home.” Eris can’t help the low giggle that leaves him as I whirl around.

“I have a mate mister. And I love him very much. So back off.” My eyes are blown wide, my words slurring together.

“Yn. Love. I am your mate.”

“No! My mate is wayyyyy more handsome than you. He’s like, so pretty, and hot, and strong and-“ I continue rambling on and on to the stranger.

“Yn! It’s me! I’m Eris, I’m your mate!” I watch fire flick in his hand and gasp.

“Ohhhh Eris! You will not believe! This man, he tried coming up to me and bringing me home, saying he was you!” This makes Eris laugh, leading me to the door of the bar whilst shaking his head.

I stumble down the street, Eris supporting most of me, that’s when I see it- a pretty moth. I giggle, chasing after it down the street, falling over and stumbling. Eric’s tries to catch up, shouting for me and laughing as I continue. Finally, my mate catches me, picking me up and spinning me around with a broad grin.

I giggle again, opening my palms causing the moth to flutter out. “You really are crazy, aren’t you love?” Eris smiles down at me, winnowing us to the front of the Vanserra estate. I stumble up the steps before stopping. “Wait! Look!” I point to the stars, it’s a bit windy but still a beautiful night. “They are so pretty, shiny!”

I plop down onto the ground, a grunt leaving me as my butt hits the ground. I hear Eris sit beside me as we look at the stars. “Yes love, very pretty. But we need to get you to bed ok?”

“Ugh no! What are you? My dad?” I raise a brow at him, I can tell he’s holding back a dirty remark as he looks back to the sky for a moment before standing up and offering me his hand.

Not realizes this means he’s going tot ask me inside, I grab it. He picks me up bridal style, causing me to yelp and try to get out of his grip. “No! I wanna look at the sky diamonds!”

“We can look at them tomorrow ok?”

“Ok.” I pout as he carries me up the stairs and to our room, setting me softly on the bed. He disappears for a moment, coming back in with a warm cloth, wiping the make up from my face, pulling my dress from my body. He helps me stand, slipping a nightgown over my bare body, he sits me back on the bed against his chest, brushing my hair softly. “I love you.” A smile spreads across my face as I look at my handsome mate.

“I love you too.” He leans down, placing a soft kiss to my lips.

“Can I have a cookie?” I whisper on his lips.

“What?”

“Can I have a cookie?”

He laughs softly, “yes. I’ll go get you a cookie, drink that water and lay down ok?”

I nod, watching my mate leave the room.

———

“Ugh fuck. My head.”

Eris laughs behind me, hurrying over to my side of the bed, “yeah you were so drunk last night love. Didn’t even realize it was me when I tried to get you home.” He smiles as I rub my head.

Eris grabs my water from the night stand, along with a tonic from the healer. “Here, take these. I’ll go get some breakfast ok?” I nod, drinking the water and downing the tonic, wondering what else I did last night.

—————

Okkkk there you go! I hope this is up to your standard anon!