#now his wings are burnt

[nightshadesz]

sun and his itty bitty companion

[can-of-slorgs]

Completed the Shenkuu Stamp collection some time ago, so it was only fair to draw my girl Mirsha

[botanicsoul]

DARE

Bakugou Katsuki x (fem) Reader

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

The night had started harmless enough.

The girls were gathered in Mina’s room — junk food scattered everywhere, a stupid Truth or Dare game spiraling out of control. You should’ve known something was up when they all kept sneaking glances at you.

Especially Mina.

Mina leaned forward, mischievous glint in her eye. “Alright, Y/N, truth or dare?”

You hesitated. “…Dare?” you said cautiously.

Bad choice.

“I dare you to sneak into Bakugou’s room and put on his hero costume,” she said, grinning like the devil himself.

“You’re insane,” you said immediately, sitting up. “He’ll actually kill me. Like, dead-dead.”

“Come on! You know he’s soft for you,” Uraraka giggled behind her hand. “He won’t even be mad.”

“Yeah, he might even like it— we all know he wants you babe,” Mina wiggled her eyebrows. “Besides, if you do it… I’ll buy you those shoes you’ve been whining about for weeks.”

You froze.

Those perfect, gorgeous sneakers you couldn’t afford.

Damn her.

“…Fine,” you groaned. “But when he blows up the building, I’m blaming you.”

Mina and the girls erupted in quiet cheers, practically shoving you toward the boys’ dorm wing like you were being sent to your execution.

——

Moments later, you were standing inside Bakugou’s room, your heart thundering in your chest.

The room smelled like him — burnt caramel, gunpowder, and something warm underneath it all. His gear was scattered around; shirts tossed over a chair, gym bag half-zipped, boots by the door. Typical.

“Okay, just grab it and go,” you whispered.

You spotted his hero suit neatly folded on his desk chair — black, orange, and rugged as hell. You hesitated for half a second before snatching it up and shimmying into it.

“Whoever is up there please don’t let me die,” you muttered to yourself, grabbing it.

You started stripping from your clothes and wrestled into the top first — the fabric huge, sleeves dangling past your hands. You tucked it into the pants, which, unfortunately, fit suspiciously well around your hips.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You looked ridiculous.

“Oh my god, I look like a fan at a con,” you groaned, cheeks burning.

And then you spotted the gauntlets.

Those massive grenade-shaped wrist-cannons Bakugou wore like they weighed nothing.

You hesitated.

“How heavy can they be?” you muttered, reaching for one.

Answer: Fucking. HEAVY.

As soon as you tried to lift it, your wrist sank like a stone. You barely managed to drag it up to your elbow. You grunted, using both hands, nearly toppling over.

“Holy shit, what is this, like seventy pounds?!” you gasped, wobbling around like a baby deer.

You tried lifting both gauntlets — a mistake.

The second one yanked you down so hard you dropped onto your knees with a loud thud.

“KILL ME NOW,” you whispered dramatically, struggling to even stay upright.

You were panting, red-faced, arms trembling like a noodle trying to balance the absurd weight.

And that’s when you heard heavy footsteps outside the door.

You were mid-struggle — sweating, cursing under your breath — when you heard the faintest creak in the hallway.

Your blood ran cold.

Outside, Bakugou was stomping toward his room — still pissed off from a shitty sparring session. All he wanted was a shower and his bed.

But when he reached his door and noticed it slightly ajar, his instincts screamed at him.

Someone was inside.

Without hesitation, he kicked the door open, the wood slamming into the wall with a loud crack.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK” he started. Because there you were. Standing in his room. Wearing his goddamn hero suit.

Struggling to lift one of his heavy-ass grenade gauntlets while looking like you were about to cry.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

You blinked at him, caught like a deer in headlights. The sleeves hung off your arms, the fabric clinging to the curve of your waist and hips, the belt loose around you — and those gauntlets, way too big for you, dragging along the floor.

Bakugou’s red eyes darkened — not with anger, but something hotter. Something hungry.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled, low and rough.

Your face flushed deep red. “I-it’s not what it looks like…well I mean kinda but—”

“Looks like you’re trying real hard to make me lose my goddamn mind,” he cut you off, stepping inside, the door swinging shut behind him with a heavy click.

You stumbled back instinctively, bumping against the desk, heart hammering.

Bakugou stalked closer, the heat from his body practically rolling off him.

“You break into my room,” he muttered, voice dropping dangerously low, “Wearin’ my gear,” — he leaned in, caging you between his arms, his palms slamming flat against the desk on either side of you — “dress up like some fuckin’ fantasy — and think you’re just gonna walk away?”

You whined as one gauntlet slipped off your wrist, almost tipping you over. “I-it was a dare! Mina—”

Bakugou huffed a humorless laugh.

Without effort, he reached down and easily grabbed both massive gauntlets from you like they were pillows. You stared in shock as he tossed them aside with a heavy clang.

His turned back down at you with a smirk, almost cocky, predatory. “You look like shit,” he said bluntly. “But… you also look kinda fuckin’ hot wearin’ my colors.”

Your breath hitched.

He was so close now — you could see the golden flecks in his furious crimson eyes, the way his jaw clenched tightly, the tension practically crackling off him.

“It was a dare I swear…” you whispered weakly.

“Don’t care,” Bakugou muttered.

You swallowed hard, chest heaving.

His gaze dropped down your body, dragging slowly over every inch of you — the oversized top slipping off your shoulder, the snugness of the pants on your hips.

When his eyes flicked back up to yours, they were molten.

“Bet you’d look even better outta ’em,” he murmured, his voice like honey.

You whimpered — actually whimpered — and immediately cursed yourself for it.

Bakugou grinned — slow, wolfish — like he’d just found his favorite new toy.

Your knees wobbled. “Suki…i’m sor—” you whispered.

He didn’t give you a chance to finish.

Without warning, he grabbed you by the belt loops, yanked you against him, and crushed his mouth onto yours.

The kiss was hungry, punishing — all teeth and tongue and pent-up frustration.

You gasped, clutching his shirt, letting him devour you, dizzy from the heat pouring off his body.

When he finally pulled back, he was panting, forehead pressed against yours.

“Mine,” he growled against your lips, nipping sharply at your lower lip, making you gasp again. “You got that, princess? You wanna wear my shit, fine — but you better fuckin’ know you belong to me.”

You nodded shakily, dazed, drunk off the taste of him. Bakugou pulled back slightly — just enough to glare at you, his hands still gripping your waist, thumbs sliding dangerously low toward the hem of the pants.

“Next time you wanna play dress-up,” he rasped, smirking wickedly, “ask me first and I’ll even help you out of em’.”

The look in his eyes promised a lot more than just help and you — flushed, panting, brain short-circuiting — could only whisper, “Okay…”

Bakugou chuckled darkly, pressing one more bruising kiss to your mouth before leaning back.

“Good,” he said, tugging the belt around your waist tight with a hard snap, making you squeak. “Now get ready, princess. You started this shit — you’re not walking outta here anytime soon.”

——

The next afternoon, you sat cross-legged on Mina’s bed, surrounded by the girls, trying very hard to act normal.

Your new sneakers — the ones Mina had bribed you with — sat unopened in the box on your lap.

“Come on, open it already!” Mina whined, bouncing beside you.

You shifted awkwardly, biting back a grimace. Your thighs ached. Your hips ached. Hell, even your neck was a little sore.

Turns out, Bakugou was very, very thorough about claiming what was “his” last night.

You coughed, sitting up straighter, ignoring the smug way Mina was side-eyeing you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered defensively, opening the box.

Inside were the sneakers you’d been dreaming about — sleek, perfect, untouched.

You gasped. “Holy shit… they’re even prettier in person!”

Mina clapped excitedly. “See? Totally worth it!”

You snorted. “Yeah, tell that to my back.”

Mina laughed. “You’re welcome. Besides, don’t pretend you didn’t have a good night.”

You flushed from head to toe. “Mina!” you hissed, smacking her with a pillow.

The other girls burst out laughing.

Before you could defend yourself, your phone buzzed in your lap.

——

Explosion boy <3 :

5:35pm - Come to my dorm later.

5:36pm - Or do you need help gettin’ here, princess?

5:36pm - Bet you’re fuckin’ sore.

5:37pm - Want me to come kiss it better?

——

You squeaked audibly and immediately dropped your phone like it burned you.

“Who’s that?” Mina teased, leaning over.

“N-Nobody!” you yelped, clutching the sneakers like they were a lifeline.

But your red face said it all.

Across the room, Mina smirked like she’d just won the lottery.

“Told you,” she whispered to Uraraka. “Soft spot. Huge.”

And maybe…

just maybe…

you weren’t totally mad about it.

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

[bad-entertainment]

First time travelling alone: boom flight canceled you gotta stay at the hotel for the night also we rebooked you the 1h30 flight in 7h cuz you gotta go to Toronto and wait for another to get to Montreal

[elysianightsss]

Something something Johnny returns to the highlands whenever he’s on leave. It’s freezing and stinks like seaweed but it’s home and he loves it all the same. Plus there’s something laughable about seeing a beefy SAS sergeant wearing a duck feather stuffed coat.

He helps his parents out, fixing things around their old house, cooking in the kitchen at their pub and just being around for them. It’s the same routine every time he’s home, he likes it, likes the steadiness of everything being the same.

But this time when he comes home on leave, arriving at his parents pub to help out, he sees you there. A new person taken in under his parents wings. You’re just arriving to start your shift with a cheery “Evening all!” Johnny’s instantly drawn to you.

Like it’s not even funny. Whenever you enter the kitchen in your cute little black apron tied around your waist, he’s looking up from the fish he’s grilling to stare at the way your hips sway side to side as you walk. He burnt so many meals that night.

Johnny doesn’t recognize you until his mum asks if he remembers the girl who used to push him in the sandpit all the time at preschool. Then it clicks who you are. His childhood crush, all grown and so fucking gorgeous. You used to live there when you were young but when your parents drowned after a trip on a boat, you were taken away by your aunt.

He wonders why you’ve come back now but puts it in the back of his mind. He’s more focused on how prim and proper you are, sticking out like a sore thumb in the pub. Johnny’s learned you’re feisty and a little bitchy the hard way, but he fucking loves it. Makes him so damn horny. Your Scottish accent is still there but soften by years in the English countryside.

And of course he flirts with you, woos you, asks you on a date and you end up sleeping together. The little cottage you’re living in for the time being is luckily far enough away from town that no one can hear you screaming Johnny’s name. The headboard hitting against the wall with each punishing thrust. His thick, slightly curved cock pumping in and out, in and out, in and out after he spent a good hour with his head between your plush thighs. Best night of your fucking life.

When you wake though he’s gone, a note left on your pillow explaining he’d been called into work. An emergency. Worst day of your fucking life.

He’s back to saving the world, fighting to survive, living on base, joking with his task force. It all seems so mundane to him. He can’t ignore the itch in the back of his head, the knot in his back he can’t reach. He can’t rid you from his mind, not when he’s training, not when he’d just sniped someone’s brains all over the wall, and especially not when he’s in his bed, hand wrapped around his cock.

He cries out your name when he finishes in his hand, globs on stickiness coating his stomach and he prays you’re there waiting for him when he returns.

But when he does returns home, he doesn’t see you at the bar or the cottage and his mum is scowling at him like he’s kicked a puppy and his dad has this disappointment in his eyes that Johnny is transported back to his teenage years when all he saw in his dads eyes was disappointment.

He asks whats happened, what he’s done wrong but his parents shake their heads and stay silent. It wasn’t their story to tell. Johnny’s confused and hurt, thinks about just going back to base. Would brace the drive back over dealing with the icy stares from everyone in the pub.

Needing a drink to dilute his feelings, he heads to the local little market to grab a pack of beers when he sees you standing in front of the milk aisle, a sad look on your face as you decide if the three pounds you have left will be enough for both chocolate milk and strawberry milk. Even though they are two pounds each.

He starts towards you, but as soon as you turn back to your trolley he stops in his tracks. Your hand strokes over your swollen belly, a bigish bump there for five months pregnant. You know your baby is gonna be big headed just like his father.

Johnny feels as though he’s been shot. His world spins and he’s nearly sick. He knocked you up and left you. No wonder he’d been receiving so much hate everywhere he went. He hesitates, wondering if this is the best place for you to see him again, thinking up the different scenes that might take place. But he’s too late to make a plan when your eyes move to his.

He’s frozen in place watching the way your face contorts, all manner of emotions buzzing through you until they land on one that Johnny knows well. Anger. You rush forward and he gets this need to run niggling in his chest, but he stays rooted to the spot even when you slap him hard across the face.

He bites back a grin, you slap harder than Simon.

Oh yes, he’s gonna keep you for sure.

[be4chywritez]

man vs. machine | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

Quinn takes a simple claw machine challenge way too seriously

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

Summer in Michigan had been great so far—days on the lake, bonfires, and lazy afternoons where you could actually get Quinn to slow down and relax.

A night at the roller rink hadn’t exactly been your idea.

But somehow, Jack and Luke had inserted themselves into your plans with Quinn, and now the four of you were at the most aggressively outdated skating rink in Michigan. The whole place smelled like burnt popcorn and questionable rental skates. The DJ was playing Low by Flo Rida for what had to be the third time.

Jack had already disappeared—probably making enemies with a group of middle schoolers—while Luke was currently smacking the side of a vending machine that had stolen his dollar.

Which meant Quinn had an opening to pull you toward the arcade.

"Finally," he muttered, barely looking back as he led you into the dimly lit room lined with old machines. “I was about two minutes away from throwing Jack onto the rink and letting the universe take it from there.”

You laughed. “I’d honestly respect that.”

Quinn huffed. “Me too.”

You were mid-step when you saw it.

The claw machine.

It was old, the kind with a slightly busted joystick and claw arms that had clearly given up on life. The stuffed animals inside were even worse—off-brand cartoon characters, unidentifiable blobs, and one absolute disaster of a penguin.

The penguin.

It was hideous.

Bubblegum pink, with little black eyes set just a bit too far apart, giving it the expression of someone who had just received life-altering news. Its beak was stitched on at an angle, and one of its wings flopped down like it had simply given up.

It was perfect.

You grabbed Quinn’s arm. “I need that.”

He followed your gaze. “That thing?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t question it. Just nodded, already pulling out his wallet.

“I got this.”

He did not got this.

The first attempt was bad. The claw barely brushed the penguin before swinging uselessly to the side. The second attempt? Somehow worse. The claw closed too early, missing everything entirely.

By the third attempt, Quinn’s jaw was tight, his grip on the joystick getting progressively more hostile.

You glanced at the screen. He had already spent ten dollars.

“Babe,” you started, biting back a smile, “maybe we should—”

“I’ve got it,” Quinn muttered, fully locked in.

That was when Jack and Luke finally found you.

Jack took one look at the situation and blinked. “Wait. This is what you guys snuck off to do?”

“He’s trying to win me the penguin,” you explained.

Jack squinted at the machine. “That ugly thing?”

Quinn didn’t even acknowledge him, completely focused.

Luke, on the other hand, grinned. “How much have you spent?”

“Not important,” Quinn said.

Jack leaned over and checked the screen. “Ten bucks?!”

Luke wheezed. “No way.”

Jack shook his head. “Dude.”

Quinn pressed the button. The claw dropped—

And completely missed.

Jack let out a sharp breath. “Yeah, no. This is painful.”

Luke looked amused. “You ever consider just… quitting?”

Quinn ignored them both, lining up another attempt like his entire career depended on it.

Jack nudged Luke. “Alright, someone’s gotta put him out of his misery.”

Luke sighed dramatically, then reached into his pocket for a token. “Alright, move over.”

Quinn shot him a warning look. “Don’t—”

Too late. Luke had already slid the token into the machine.

With an ease that should have been illegal, he adjusted the claw, barely hesitated, and pressed the button.

The claw dropped.

The claw grabbed the penguin perfectly.

The claw actually carried it all the way to the chute.

Luke bent down, picked up the penguin, and turned it over in his hands before offering it to you.

“For you, sweetheart.”

Jack blinked. “That was—” He exhaled. “Man.”

Quinn just stared.

Luke clapped a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “You still have hockey, dude.”

Quinn shoved him off and turned away. “I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the night.”

Luke grinned. “That’s fair.”

Jack snorted. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Quinn sulked. You happily hugged your slightly deformed pink penguin.

A win was a win.

[whambambatfam]

Webs of a Wing

Chapter 3

It's scrunkly time.

I hope you guys like it, I wasn't so sure about this one. T∆T

Reader ages 12 - 15

───── ⋆⋅ 🕸 ⋅⋆ ─────

Not long after Grayson's departure from the manor... He came along, Jason Todd.

Coming in, rough around the edges, and bringing joy to the hollow halls. Ones you've roamed like a ghost on your own for years. He's got more adolescent defiance than your whole clique put together. The type of energy that shook up the old bones of this old house and awakened hope in your heart once again.

This was the kid's first time having a solid roof over his head, warm bed to sleep in, decent food to eat and people to worry about him, a real home. Unlike Bruce, who couldn't come to terms with your relations or Dick, who felt threatened by it. Jason was loud and clear in his intentions, he wanted to make the most of his new family. Including you.

A boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a stocky build for a twelve year old stands besides Alfred. “Master Jason will be living with us in the manor. He'll be a brother of sorts to you, just as Master Dick.” but you didn't want this to be like your and Dick's unstable relationship.

Alfred smiled at the determination set on your face as you gave him your name, “It's nice to meet you.” your hand quickly outstretched to the boy, “Uh, I hope.. we can be.. friends?”

Jason's face lights up your offer, taking your hand in his, “Yeah, friends. ‘Never had a sibling before.” Tugging you closer, his hand in yours pulls you along, “Come on, show me around.”

From then on, your days spent with only Alfred for company had a new, refreshing addition. 

Alfred has allowed the two of you to start cooking your own breakfast unsupervised. Given that you don't burn the kitchen down. “How many times have you done this?” Jason huffs as he picks egg shells from the bowl he's whisking. They slip through the tongs of the fork as he scrapes them along the side.

Pouring your egg mixture into the frying pan, you smile teasingly at him. “Only a few.” You take the bowl from his frustrated hands, “Try this, it might be more your speed.”

He accepts the wrapped loaf of bread with a scowl. Pulling out the toaster with a grumble, “I'm not an idiot, I know how to fend for myself.” 

“I never said you were. I've seen you do all kinds of stuff.” You move to the sink, wetting your fingers to pluck the last bits from the bowl. “

Jason turns away, stuffing four slices into the double toaster. “So it's just cooking that i suck at?” He drops his head on the counter, arms crossing as he grumbles.

Returning to the stove, you move your own cooking egg to the side. “No! You're the best at, like, everything you do.” Tipping the contents into the pan it sizzles to life again. “A few shells won't change that.”

There's pink clinging to his ears at your praise, “I'm not good at everything..”

“Oh my- obviously!”

“What!?” Sputtering, he whips his head around.

“It's bruning!” Yanking the plug from the toaster, the blackened squares pop up together. Three out of the four of them come out half charred. 

“Tha-that doesn't count.” The heat creeping up his neck flushes his face. “You distracted me!” 

“Uhuh, yeah.” You slide the omelet onto a plate for Jason as he replaces the burnt bread. “Your eggs are done.”

Jason is quick to deflect the old butler's inquiries on the smell of burnt bread. You'd hate to have your kitchen privileges revoked. When you offer to teach him how to crack eggs and use the toaster, he tells you to shut up with an obscured smile.

You were happy. Even when the newest boy wonder was busy training his nights away with the Bat. Talking about Bruce, spending time with him, connecting with him like you never could. Even when Dick started to hang around again. Coming to the manor, eventually joining the occasional patrol. Now Nightwing, protector of Blüd Haven. Brand new spandex, stupid big collar, and everything.

It didn't hurt to see him appear to come around slowly to his successor. Eventually accepting his replacement with relative ease. When you would always just be a thorn in his side, locked in a one-sided fight for first.

"You know how to fight, right?" The two of you were sitting outside. It was as muggy as Gotham usually is but it felt nice to be out.

He snorts, tossing a stone hard across the water. "Of course. Can't get by on the streets without." The small rock hops only twice before sinking.

Swiping a smooth stone from the shoreline, you run your finger along it, inspecting each divet and groove. "Can you.. teach me?" 

Sure, you were trained in martial arts but, being on the mat differs from being on the street. While your work in Gymnastics has helped you slip through and run when need be. You knew you might have to fight back one day. Maybe you wanted to.

There's a huff of exasperation behind you "Yeah, no, not happening." 

Dick Grayson's approach was silent until he wanted you to know he was there. Arms crossed and face already set in an unimpressed look.

“What?!" Jason jumps to his feet, making his way swiftly over, "I could totally do it!" 

"Then what?" With a raise of his brow, he scoffs, "Get grounded forever?" 

"It's not like I'm gonna take them-" Dick cuts him off with a raised hand.

"Stop, Jay. You're only going to get the both of you in trouble." The older siblings' hands make their way to his hips.

Tossing your rock across a water's surface, it skips along three times before sinking. “I'm not exactly new to it.”

You're almost surprised when Dick actually responds. "I'm sorry, kid. Bruce isn't going to be happy about it either.” 

As if he would even notice. "You wouldn't have to be so.. worried if I could be taught to defend myself.” Sighing in irritation, you turn your gaze back to the water.

“You don't need to, we can protect you just fine." Dick steps up behind you, patting your head. The contact catches your breath painfully and you have to fight the urge to swat it away. "And if you really don't want anyone to worry. Stay home. Stay safe." Stay out of the way. 

When he finally leaves, you feel like you can breathe again. Jason's abrupt grasp pulls your attention back to him, "Dickie and the old man can blow smoke." His grin was brighter than the sun, his hand clasping yours as he pulled you to your feet, "Let's go."

You can't fight the pull at your own lips, feet stumbling to catch up to his sudden pace. "Right behind you."

No, it didn't hurt. Because you won't let it, because, despite it all, he always came back to you. 

After packing your schedule with martial arts training Mondays and Wednesday before stitch work and knitting circle with Alfred. Gwen decides to join your gymnastics, her studies leaving her sitting at a desk too long. Tuesdays you drag both girls to self defense classes, you've seen enough shit go down with the birds. Also, it's Gotham, they should be better equipped to handle themselves. Your photos with Mj for the paper is due Thursday morning in time for the paper to come out on Friday. That leaves the weekend up for grabs. This one in particular was claimed by both your friends and brother.

“Whatcha readin’?” 

Jason jolts in his seat, slapping his hand over his mouth to subjugate any embarrassing noises. With a bark of your name he whips around to find you snickering over his shoulder. 

Cerulean eyes narrow as he grumbles at you. “How do you do that.. it's unnatural.” 

It was unnatural to he who trains under the Bat. You used to hate being unintentionally sneaking. Mj and Gwen can pick you out of a crowd of clones, there's no way you could sneak up on either of them. But, other people? Shrieking when they finally realized you were in the same room as them. That only made you feel even more invisible, and not in the ways you wanted.

You scoff, “That's dramatic.” Now, with Jason, you can finally get a laugh from it. Settling down on the couch beside him, you recognize the book in his hand, “Hey, that's one of mine!”

Swiping it away before you have the chance to snatch it, “Ha! Shouldn't have left it out.” he lifts the novella over his head, tongue stuck out at you.

“It was in my room, on my bed.” You huff, jumping for it as he stands, holding it over your head. 

“Yeah, it was, wasn't it?” Jason smirks, waving the book just out of reach, “Y'know, you actually have taste. Sometimes.”

“Give it back!" Grabbing his forearm you try pulling it down but do better at lifting yourself off the ground.

"I'm almost done." He chuckles into his fist at your frantic cat like swiping.

"Wow. So, this is the totally cool brother you've been talking about?” At the sound of a new voice, he snaps his attention to Mj. Arms crossed as she leaned against the archway to the living room.

“Dunno.. Sounds like a bully to me.” Gwen chimes in coming up besides her. She mirrors Mjs stance, doubling the judgemental

The book falls from Jason's hands and you catch it. Tucking it away safely under your arm.“Wha- uh, no! I am totally cool, ask them!” Jason whips around to hiss at you, face flushed with mortification, “Why didn't you tell me you were bringing your friends over?”

You roll your eyes, “I did. That's, like, the one thing we talked about before school this morning.” You can just barely hear the strained ‘Oooooh, right.’ as he mumbled something about a long night under his breath. Of course, he tries to make a ‘smooth’ recovery only to be blasted by your friends. You do, eventually, come to his defense.

It's nice to bring these two sides of yourself together like this. Jason may make an ass of himself but at least he knows how to not lose face completely. It makes you proud when, at the end of their stay, they sing his praises. Insisting on involving him again in their next visit to the manor. 

He came home, he sought you out, he wanted that connection you craved. The one thing you wanted, for one of them to look away from the stage of their busy lives and find you there. Waiting at home, creating that solace from a bustling world beyond these solid walls.

Creeping your door shut, you slide the lock closed. Having someone walk in on you was never a worry before. Now, whether it be doing homework together, exchanging books, deciding anything, general complaining and gossip, avoiding chores, especially hiding from Bruce and occasionally just to annoy you. Your brother struts in whenever the whim strikes him. The prick.. Shuffling to the bed, you land on it heavily alongside your bookbag. Books, pencils, and such escape their confines, your camera ferried out on top of the pile.

With a stretch and sigh, you get ready to nip pick. Three folders, each with a plethora of candids, articles, and notes. One in particular is becoming just a smidge overcrowded. Threatening to spill its contents every time it's jostled a bit too much.

What can you say? Your brother serves more than just justice in that cute lil Robin suit, and his action shots are the best. The guy is out there having fun and it shows. Your friends even agree when you can't help gushing over your late night photography sessions.

Well, after calling you crazy for going out at night in this city. Especially, with how close to the fighting you had obviously gotten. It may have taken a while to convince them that you weren't going to get yourself caught up in the middle of a Riddler maze or Two-face shoot out.

Deciding which should go in and which should come out is always a tedious process. The one with better exposure or with neater composition? You've already got a shot of him perched on that same gargoyle but, this one's a year old now. Maybe you could keep both, like a comparison, but you couldn't possibly.. maybe.. Then you'd go over your count and need to tosse another and you'd have to pick which and-Your cell rings. 

Lost in thought, the noise makes you jump like a cat at the loud sound. Swiping the noisy thing off the sheets, you answer with a huff.

“Heyyyy.. Sorry, I can't make it tonight..” Jason's voice came through the phone with tight regret, “I've got, uh... something came up. Tomorrow, I promise.”

It was a phrase you've heard before, more times to count. They'd use such weak excuses, only for tomorrow to never come. There was no later.

“Yeah, it's okay Jay.” The response was automatic, coming without a thought. How could you deny their call to action? There were always going to be things more important. “I get it. Just.. be safe, okay?”

“Of course, not like I'm doing anything crazy. I'll be with Bruce, we're fine.”

So, it didn't hurt that he tried keeping you in the dark like they did. You knew his concern was real, his care genuine. At least you want to know that he meant it, that he wasn't trying to push you aside. You'd just have to trust him.

“Up there! It's Batman!” A young boy yelps and tugs at his mother's arm, finger raised to the sky.

Eyes cast upwards, you watch as they jump from one building to the next. Capes billowing in the wind behind them. Following close, you run along sidewalks and duck through alleyways to keep up.

Pulling your camera up, you snap shots of Robin as he leaps off a rooftop. Capturing him mid-air, bright yellow fluttering behind him. The domino hardly masking his face of sheer joy paired with intense focus. His were always your favorite, filling his folder was easy. You wish you could show him some of the pictures you have of him. Maybe someday the two of you could go through it together. Would he find it creepy? Hopefully not...

You would never dare voice it but, you were envious of them. When they took to the soggy Gotham skies, gliding with ease above it all. Mouth hung agape, you watched the wind blowing through Jason's hair, and Dick with his flips and twirls. Even Bruce, using his cape to glide alongside them.

Well, maybe you told- “Alfred!” Your ride’s here and your mad dash through the city has been cut short.

“Crime alley is no place for an upstanding teen.” He tuts with a smile as you reach the car. Always a pinch of sugar with his scolding, “Come along, let's get home.”

Hopping in beside him, you can't keep your eyes off the stars. “I want to fly like them one day...” With a hum, He drives you two back to the manor.

Life is feeling better by the day. It's as if everythings clicked into place. The years you get with him are the most whole you feel. The only real sense of normalcy throughout your youth.

That night, he was home late despite not being on patrol. You overheard, well eavesdropped, that Jason was put off duty. Still he was out on his own, positively pissed, and came home after dark. Heading straight to his room, he brushes off Alfred, insisting on being left alone.

You can't help finding yourself standing anxiously at his door anyway. It didn't feel right, letting him fester in his anger alone. Knocking yields no results but, calling out his name softly earns you the same in return.

Opening the door slowly you peek in to see him, sitting on his bed with a box. His face is grim but he waves you in, motioning for you to sit with him. You do, placing yourself at the foot of his bed. Across from him with a box of papers and photos between you. Jason fiddles with an old looking photo, scanning it over and over. 

"I know you don't like talking about it, but," He swallows thickly before his eyes can meet yours pensively. "You, um, got a mom, right?"

It feels like the wind’s been knocked out of you. Yeah, you didn't like to talk about it, let alone think about it. "I guess, technically." You shrug it off the best you can, "I mean, ya know, everyone's gotta come from somewhere."

He rolls his eyes, dropping the picture back into the cardboard. "Yeah, no shit, that's not what I'm saying."

Really? You came to check in on him. Now you’re being snipped at over something he knows you're sensitive about. "Well, then, I don't want to know if your just-" Before you can fully lift yourself off the bed, he's gripping your wrist.

"Wait! I'm sorry, don't go!" His fingers tremble around his hold on you. He tries not to squeeze you too tightly while still keeping you close. "I-I just.." His other hand grips the box enough to crumple the cardboard under it.

"Jay..." You sigh, this unusual distress from your brother making giving in easier "I don't know. Maybe before but, I don't remember back then." Just nightmares of things you couldn't grip the memory of fully. Thinking of your mother and what she may have gone through with you? Only if it could help with whatever's eating at him, "I can't remember anything before being here. Blurry faces, locations I can't place. I didn't even know what her name was. Can't remember her face.."

When you sit back down he finally releases you. A hand runs through black curled, "I shouldn't have asked. Sorry if it's..."

"No, it's whatever. Who cares? Just..." You shrug, looking over the darkening Gotham sky, "Must not have been anything good." Fingers twist into the sheet below you in unease.

It did hurt though, every question slipping through your finger never to be answered. Flitting past your mind painfully when you linger too long on the past.

Your eyes are drawn back to Jason as he pulls a paper from the box. "I got some stuff earlier and..." He shows you old documents and photos that he was given by an old neighbor. You recognized the little Jason with, from what you're told, his father and stepmother. 

His explanation paused as you cooed at his baby face, which he does not appreciate. So, the woman who raised him, who passed, wasn't the same as his birth mother, who's alive. "I think I can find her but I don't know how long it'll take. I"

"That's," Blinking a few times at plie of evidence towards his childhood, you look back at him. "alot, but I'm sure if anyone could do it, that's you."

"You're not gonna.. try to talk me out of it?"

"Would you listen?" You raise a brow at him, his shoulders shoot up in turn, guilt evident. "Exactly." With a smirk you help him pack away everything. His face still knit pensively even after he sets the box aside, you scan the partly packed suitcase. It starts to feel too real but you know there's no helping it. So, you offer him all you can, taking his hand in yours, "Look, I don't know where you're going or what you're doing exactly but,” You squeeze his fingers and he returns it, “I trust you and I'll always be here for you."

Jason pulls your connected hand, rigging you into a tight embrace. "Thanks." His chuckle waivers against your shoulder, arms constricting around your midsection.

You repay his embrace in kind, forgiving the crushing weight of his hug as you blink away tears. "Just, please, stay safe. Okay?"

"Of course, look at who you're talking to, I'm the definition of cautious." He pulls away enough to give you a winning grin and you return it with your hardest 'You're joking, right?' face. "Alright, fine. I'll be careful. I'll be safe. Promise.”

“So, how are you getting there?" You sit crossed legs on his beds as he packs his bag. Chin resting on your palms you tilt your head as his rifles around his pocket.

“These!” He presents her a literal handful of credit cards. "I'll be flying, first class, duh” he notices your dropped jaw. "Please don't tell Alfred..." 

Teeth snapping shut, hands dropping to your lap, you blink at his little card haul, “Jason," you sighed, exasperated, “Where are you going?"

“The.. middle east?” Chuckling nervously as he stuffs them away, he watches the concern grow on your face at just how far he would be going.

“Your- Please, if you listen to anything I say. Jason.” You grab his shoulders, setting him with your sternest look “Do not die.”

“Oh my- Seriously?!" Rolling his eyes he shrugs your hands off, “I'm not gonna die!"

───── ⋆⋅ 🕸 ⋅⋆ ─────

Tag list?!

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[dizzydaisychains]

sylus loving you quietly part 6

❀ sylus loving you quiety; pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, sylus carefully adjusts the desk light as he examines the stuffing spilling out of your childhood teddy who goes by the humble name of mr.hugs. sylus sighs as he stares at the little bear’s worn out features. mr.hugs has seen better days, but it's nothing a little tender love and care can't fix. opening the drawer to the ebony desk, he takes out a little tin of sewing supplies as the critical surgery on mr.hugs begins. he sings a soft lullaby as he uses his skilful hands to bring the bear back from the dead. in a lifetime where he was born to eat souls, it brings him a quiet piece of joy to give life to things every now and then. “sylus?” “hmmm?” “are you….performing open-heart surgery on mr.hugs?” “shhh….he’s under anesthesia right now. perhaps you can hold his paw while his surgeon gives him the chance of a second life.”

❀ sylus loving you quietly; sitting on a wooden workbench, sylus moulds the clay in front of him, pinching and pressing the grey blob until it slowly shapes itself into a shallow heart-shaped dish. who knew dangerous hands like his could cradle something so delicately? the pottery instructor claps in delight as she asks sylus what the purpose of his artwork is. “it’s a dish for her earrings,” sylus explains, smiling down at his little creation. “she’s always losing them. now she can keep them somewhere safe.” 

❀ sylus loving you quietly; one sunny afternoon, he finds you snoring softly on the hammock he built for you in the garden. tutting at the pink burn marks forming on your exposed skin, he makes a fuss of quietly setting up a parasol, fiddling with its position until it perfectly shades every part of you. he can’t have you getting burnt. not on his watch, anyway. eventually when you wake up, you find his head in your lap, your floral bucket hat jammed on his silvery mop of hair as he snoozes against your warm body, mumbling in his sleep about needing to buy suncream.

❀ sylus loving you quietly; communicating with you through different mediums around the house. on the fridge, he arranges the alphabet magnets to spell out encouraging messages. other times, it’s a knock-knock joke written on a sticky note and taped to the toaster, or the vacuum cleaner. sometimes it’s drawing hearts in the foggy mirror after a shower. it’s nearly like a game of hide and seek. even when he’s not by your side, sylus is with you. he lives all around you; so long as you remember to look.

❀ sylus loving you quietly; matching miscellaneous items. it started as a joke; two toothbrushes sitting snug in a cup, balancing on the bathroom sink. then came the couple mugs with twin handles that join together to form a pair of dragon wings. two cushions on the couch, two towels hanging over the bath. it’s an abundance of pairs, and sylus finds himself picking up more and more of them as time passes and you both continue to grow together, tumbling into a love that sylus knows he’ll never tire of. 

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧

(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ in case you want to read more:

sylus loving you quietly part 1

sylus loving you quietly part 2

sylus loving you quietly part 3

sylus loving you quietly part 4

sylus loving you quietly part 5

[parkerslatte]

The Purest Kind of Love | Part One

Azriel x Fem!Reader x Eris Vanserra

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: none

Summary: Two desperate friends make a bargain and that bargain comes into play.

The Purest Kind of Love Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

NEXT

•••

In the large bed in the centre of the bedroom lay two figures, one with large wings and one without. Their soft whispers filled the silence of the room, gentle touches upon each other's skin, smiles lighting up their faces. The fire created a soft glow in the room, only accentuating the intimate atmosphere. 

The winged male brushed the female’s cheek with his thumb, guiding his movements down to her lip– a silent ask of permission.  The female nodded and the winged male let out a small sigh of relief before he connected their lips in a sweet kiss. Arms wrapped around one another until there wasn’t a space in between their bodies.

“What if–” The female began but the winged male cut her off with a brush of his lips over hers.

“Then we will go our separate ways,” the winged male said, caressing the curve of her hip.

The female thought for a moment before she nodded. “Then we go our separate ways.”

“But now, we are unsure if it will ever happen,” said the winged male, a smirk forming on his lips.

The female smiled. “So we can remain here in this bed and I can feel your touch every night.”

Their lips met once more as the fire within the room slowly became nothing but embers. By the time the fire was fully out, the winged male and the female were sleeping soundly in one another's arms, a bargain tattooed on their hearts. 

***

The research book on her desk was open and a page full of notes was directly next to it. The last sentence written wasn’t complete. Y/N never planned to fall asleep in the middle of her work but she had needed something to distract herself from the thought of her partner and family in the midst of a bloody battle.

The candles in the room had all burnt out with the exception of the one still burning on her desk. It would never burn out, it had been a gift from her partner for their fourth anniversary. It was the present she loved the most. 

The door to her office was opened slowly and two shadows creeped in, moving freely in the darkness before settling over her shoulders in a cool blanket. The master of said shadows followed a moment later, stopping to admire the sleeping figure at the desk. Despite the dried blood and dirt clinging to his skin, Azriel smiled at the sight. 

His footsteps were quiet as he stepped in the direction of her desk. 

“Y/N,” Azriel whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. “Wake up.”

A long groan left Y/N as she woke up. “What?”

“You fell asleep at your desk,” Azriel replied, standing back to his full height, not wanting to accidentally smear blood or dirt onto her. 

After blinking rapidly a few times and orienting herself, Y/N’s eyes shot open. “Azriel!”

Immediately, Y/N was on her feet as she wrapped her arms tightly around Azriel’s neck. Azriel didn’t return the hug.

“I don’t want to get you dirty,” Azriel said, keeping his arms and hands, which were covered in dried blood, away from her.

“I don’t care,” Y/N mumbled into his neck. “I was worried about you. Is everyone else okay? Did you all do it?”

The weight of Azriel’s arms settled around her waist as he encased her in his warmth, shadows lingering around her too, always keeping her safe. “Everyone is okay. There were a few minor injuries but that was all there was. The High Lord of Autumn is dead.”

“Who made the killing blow?” Y/N asked as she pulled back from the hug to look into Azriel’s eyes. 

“Eris did. It was all part of the agreement we had with him. We would only help him take out any obstacles to his father while he dealt with him himself,” Azriel explained. 

Y/N nodded. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You knew I always would be,” Azriel teased, a crooked smile stretching across his face. 

“No need to be so cocky,” said Y/N, following her response with a quick kiss to his lips, the only place on his face untouched by blood or grime. “Now come and take a bath with me. No offense but you do smell quite strongly of death.”

“You don’t need to have a bath with me,” Azriel said. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“No, I need a bath as well after hugging you,” Y/N joked. “And besides, I can think of a few things we can do once you are clean.”

Azriel’s hands slid down to her hips as his voice lowered into a soft growl. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good, now–”

Before Y/N could finish talking, Azriel had lifted her up and draped her over his shoulder. Even though she knew that he would never let her fall, Y/N still clung to him regardless. “Azriel!”

“What?” He said innocently. 

“Put me down!” Y/N shrieked through her laughter. 

“You cannot make me,” Azriel said, amusement clear in his voice.

Y/N allowed Azriel to carry her into their bathroom before she lightly hit his back for him to set her down– which he finally did so.

“You can be a brute when you want to,” Y/N said as she balanced herself. 

As the bath filled, Y/N took a step closer to Azriel, her palms resting flat on his chest. Azriel watched her movements, heat residing in his eyes, if she allowed him, she knew that he would take her then and there on the bathroom floor whether he was clean or not. Y/N wouldn’t allow that, not until she replaced the scent of death that clung to his skin and clothes with a variety of her many citrus or floral scents. Scents that Azriel would never admit to liking. 

Buckle by buckle, Y/N stripped Azriel’s bloodied and torn leathers away from his body, suppressing a small giggle when his clean, undirtied skin revealed itself to her leaving only his head, neck and hands covered in blood and grime. Y/N dragged her nails down Azriel’s torso causing the shadowsinger to shiver at her touch. His eyes fluttered closed and he groaned at the pleasurable sensation. Once the bath was full, Azriel slowly stripped Y/N out of her clothes and let them fall into a pile with his clothes. Just at the sight of her bare body before him, Azriel groaned. 

“You can never get enough of me, can you?” Y/N teased.

“No, I cannot,” Azriel replied. 

It wasn’t long before they both sat in the bath, now clean and fresh. With a wave of her hand, the dirty water became clear as if there was no blood and grime at all. Finally, Y/N allowed herself to relax into Azriel’s hold, allowing herself to sink her body a little deeper below the water. 

Her life was never meant to turn out this way. Y/N had known Azriel for many years and a romantic relationship had never been in the cards for her. Of course she always thought the shadowsinger was attractive, but she never found herself pursuing him. Azriel always had someone else on his mind. First it was Mor, then Elain, then finally Gwyn. Once all of them had happily found their mates. Mor with Emerie. Elain with Lucien. Gwyn with Octavian; an author of one of the valkyrie’s favourite novels. 

Y/N had her fair share of romantic endeavours too, though none had lasted. Deep down she always knew that she was seeking the same thing as Azriel– a mate. The whole reason why Y/N and Azriel had formed their relationship in the first place. Their family and all others around the two were happy with their mates, starting families or thinking of starting one. It only left Y/N and Azriel alone together. 

When she agreed to be in a relationship with Azriel, she never thought she would become as comfortable as she was. There was some part of her that wished that this could be for eternity, it was easy and she adored Azriel. Actually there was a way that this could be forever, if neither of them found their mates. If one of them did, then their relationship would end. That was the matter of their bargain. 

Still, Y/N thought. Could a mating bond be better than this?

“Where did you wander off too?” Azriel asked, snapping Y/N back into reality. 

Y/N leaned further back into him, closing her eyes. “Nowhere. Just thinking.”

“About me, I hope,” Azriel said, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Of course,” said Y/N, tilting her head to look at Azriel. “Who else?”

The smile that brightened Azriel’s face was difficult not to make Y/N smile in return. “However, I do remember some things we could do once we were in here…”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me.”

A wicked grin spread across Y/N’s face as she slowly straddled Azriel’s lap, bringing her lips to the shell of his ear, whispering promises of where the night would take them. 

***

It was early that very next morning when Y/N found herself hunched over her desk once again. Notes and small sketches on a new kind of plant that was sprouting around Velaris covered her desk. She was sure that it wasn’t necessary for anything Rhys needed but she liked learning about it regardless. So far nothing was special about it. 

A piece of paper landed on her desk before a cold feeling wrapped around her ankle. Azriel’s shadow. Y/N smiled and picked up the slip of paper.

“I formally invite you to a celebration to commemorate the new High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra. Celebrations will begin after the sun sets,” Y/N read. 

“Rhys demands that we must all go,” Azriel said, slipping into the room.

“Must we?” Y/N groaned. “I have too much work to do.”

“Take a break,” Azriel replied while sitting down on the chair in the corner of the room. 

Y/N snorted. “You are telling me to take a break? In the five hundred years I have known you, you have never told me that. You should be taking your own advice.”

Azriel shrugged. “I’m telling you now.”

Y/N stood from her chair, slowly walking over to Azriel whose face displayed a lazy smile. “And why would you, Azriel, want to go to the Autumn Court and converse with Eris Vanserra of all people?”

Arms wrapped around Y/N’s body as Azriel pulled her down onto his lap. “I don’t want to converse with Eris Vanserra. I would prefer it if we stayed far away from him.”

“Then tell me the real reason why you want to go?” Y/N asked. 

Heat filled Azriel’s eyes as he looked at Y/N. “Well this celebration is an excuse for you to wear the dress you bought last month. And it gives me an opportunity to show you off.”

Y/N stilled. Since getting together four years ago, they still hadn’t made any public appearances together. Being seen together in public would make their relationship more real; less like a final and desperate option. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at that thought. 

“Okay,” Y/N said with a soft smile. 

“Okay?” Azriel asked, a smile creeping onto his lips. 

With a nod, Y/N pressed a kiss to his lips, feeling utterly content. She pulled away for a brief moment. “Will I have time to finish off my work before we need to get ready?”

Azriel laughed, his hands squeezing her hips. “Only as long as I’m allowed to stay.”

Y/N pecked his lips and stood from Azriel’s lap to return to her desk. “Of course you are. Stay as long as you like.”

In the corner of the room, Azriel got himself comfortable as Y/N continued with her work. Shadows lounged on his shoulders as a soft smile toyed at Azriel’s lips. He was perfectly content. 

***

The dress Y/N wore was one she had been excited about wearing since she bought it. It was a deep red and adored with gold detailing simply making it more stunning. Jewels decorated her neck and ears and hair, sparkling everytime she moved. Y/N was sure that she had never felt so beautiful. 

The Inner Circle split off in different directions. Azriel’s hand rested on Y/N’s lower back, gently guiding her to the edge of the dancefloor. Y/N thought he looked exceptionally stunning tonight dressed in a dark blue formal outfit; she had even convinced him to put in his earrings that he never wore. 

“Refreshments?” an older male asked, offering two glasses of wine.

Y/N took one without a second thought. “Thank you.”

Azriel took the other and gave the older male a nod of appreciation. Y/N immediately turned to Azriel. “Did you know I’ve never been to Autumn before?”

“I actually didn’t know that,” Azriel admitted. 

“I have never actually been to any of the seasonal courts before,” Y/N said, looking at the ornate details of the ballroom. They stood next to a large window that gave her the most perfect view into the gardens and the night sky where all of the stars were visible. “I’ve always wanted to visit them before but the opportunity never arose. I must admit that the Autumn Court is rather beautiful so far. I don’t see how you dislike it.”

“It’s not that I don’t dislike the beauty of the court,” said Azriel, taking a sip of the wine. “It’s the people I find insufferable.”

“They cannot all be bad,” Y/N said. 

Azriel chuckled. “Just wait until you meet–”

Before Azriel finished his sentence, he was interrupted by the new High Lord sauntering towards them. Y/N put on a smile while Azriel looked as if he would rather be anywhere else. 

“What was it you were saying about people of the Autumn Court being insufferable?” Eris Vanserra asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“I was simply telling Y/N the truth,” Azriel replied. 

As Y/N’s eyes locked with Eris’s, she couldn’t help but be blown away by his beauty. There seemed to be a roaring flame behind his eyes that made them all the more striking. Faint freckles dotted around his nose gave him a look of innocence but from the stories Azriel and Cassian had told her, he was anything but. He was dressed in the colours of the Autumn Court with a circlet situated atop his head. The gold standing out from his dark auburn hair, not a strand out of place.

“And who is this gorgeous being, Azriel,” Eris asked. Even his voice was stunning. 

The hand on her lower back dug into her skin. “I’m Y/N,” she answered. “I am a researcher at the Night Court.”

“I don’t believe we have ever met,” Eris said. “I think I would remember such a stunning thing such as yourself.”

Y/N knew that all of Eris’s words were precise, dripping in honey. Even his flirtatious tone was picked out especially for her. This was simply a game and Y/N found herself wanting to play.

“No we haven’t,” Y/N replied. “Unfortunately for me.”

Eris smirked before offering Y/N his hand. Before she could take it, Azriel pulled her back. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, the grip on her waist tightening.

“Don’t worry,” Y/N whispered. “I already know it’s all an act. And Rhys did tell us to be on our best behaviour. If I reject the High Lord it won’t reflect very well on any of us.”

Azriel seemed to think for a second. “Fine. But if he does anything–”

“Az,” Y/N interrupted. “I know how to take care of myself.”

Finally Azriel nodded and reluctantly released his grip on her waist. “You owe me a dance after.”

“Wow, you want to dance,” Y/N said. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Shut up,” Azriel said playfully.

Y/N turned back to Eris and placed her hand in his. She was shocked to discover how soft his skin was. Eris pulled her to the centre of the dancefloor as the orchestra began to play a song Y/N didn’t recognise. Almost immediately she fell in love with it. 

The smile Eris offered her was one she didn’t expect. It was softer than the fake one he had offered when he asked her to dance. Once she was swept up in the dance, her body seemed to move on its own, never missing a step and perfectly in time with Eris. 

“I didn’t expect you to be a talented dancer as well,” Eris remarked. 

“I have a lot of good qualities,” Y/N replied. “Do you always wear your circlet everywhere? Or is it just for this celebration?”

Eris looked taken back by the question. “I’m sorry?”

“You circlet, do you always wear it? It’s a little bit…conceited, don’t you think?”

“Excuse me?” Eris said, missing a step. 

Y/N smirked. “You heard me.”

As Eris fell back into perfect step, his hand felt heavier on her lower back, she could feel the warmth of it through her dress. “Yes I suppose it is.”

This time, Y/N was taken back by his statement. “You agree?”

“Of course,” Eris replied. “I wouldn’t be wearing this if it weren’t for this celebration. Though it does look dashing on me.”

“If that helps you sleep at night,” Y/N said. 

“It does,” Eris said with a smirk. “Now, what is the reason why I have never seen such beauty in this court before?”

“Are you well, High Lord? Because if I’m not mistaken, Azriel was in your court not long ago,” Y/N pondered.

A melodic laugh escaped Eris's mouth and it blended with the orchestra. “The shadowsinger may be pretty but you know exactly who I am talking about.”

“Well, I must be dense then because I have absolutely no idea who you must be talking about,” Y/N said with a smile. 

“Then you must be,” Eris muttered, a smile stretching across his own face. 

The conversation ended there but the smile remained on both of their faces. Y/N seemed completely unaware of hers as she danced with Eris. Though Y/N needed to admit to herself that dancing with Eris was fun, she was sure that she had never had a dance partner match her talents since Nesta. The two of them would dance together when they were bored or wanted to do something to ease tension. 

Of course Y/N danced with Azriel and she always enjoyed the way he would occasionally stumble and smile shyly at her– but he never wanted to stand out. Y/N was aware of every single eye on her as she danced with Eris and it was an exhilarating feeling. Even so, she still was not aware of the bright smile that graced her face. 

***

Hazel eyes bore into the hand Eris had placed upon Y/N’s back– a little too low for his liking– as he swept her up in the dance as the orchestra began to perform a new song, one Azriel knew was only played in Autumn. He wouldn’t admit to anyone but himself that the symphony was pleasant to his ears, even his shadows seemed to enjoy the sound as they danced around him. 

Still, the grip Azriel had on his glass of wine cracked under the pressure it was receiving. The grin on Y/N’s face as Eris spun her around the dancefloor was beautiful and Azriel wished that he had been the one to offer her such a dance before Eris. The two looked radiant together as they stood out in the crowd, even others around them stopped and watched the High Lord as he danced with someone unknown to them. 

Y/N had always enjoyed dancing, she would always make Azriel dance with her when the two were alone together. Despite his hesitancy to dance, Azriel always ended up enjoying himself– perhaps it was because it was with Y/N; he had never gotten the same pleasure while dancing with Nesta. 

The steps Y/N and Eris made were precise and elegant, as if that had practised them forever. Even though everything in him was screaming to intervene and sweep Y/N into a dance of their own, Azriel couldn’t help but stand there in awe watching the pair. 

Cassian stood close to him nursing his own drink while Nesta was swept into a dance by a Day Court advisor. 

“What did that glass ever do to you?” Cassian commented as the glass in Azriel’s hand cracked even more, small chips of glass digging into his thumb. 

Azriel tore his eyes away from Y/N and Eris and glanced down at the cracked glass he had in his hand. Slowly he placed it down onto the floor, making sure it was out of the way of anyone walking by and turned back to Cassian. 

“The glass didn’t do anything,” Azriel replied.

Cassian looked out at the dancing couples before his gaze found Y/N and Eris dancing together. Cassian whistled. “I see what has you so pent up. They are looking rather…close.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” said Azriel, forcing the words through his teeth.

A deep chuckle emitted from Cassian. “Tell that to the glass.”

In the middle of the dancefloor, Nesta bid goodbye to her dance partner before walking back over to Cassian, taking her place beside him. Her silver eyes looked Azriel up and down and Azriel felt as if he shrank under her gaze. 

“Be careful,” Nesta said, a hint of amusement in her dry tone. “Remember after I had one dance with him, Eris proposed to me. Y/N is an amazing dancer too, their wedding will be by the end of the night and their heir will be conceived by the morning.”

Cassian laughed loudly while Azriel only glared at Nesta before his gaze settled upon Y/N once more. Their eyes met and she offered Azriel the most gentle smile in the world and it was as if all of his worries disappeared in an instant. 

The orchestra finished playing and the room erupted into applause. Y/N slowly walked back to Azriel and Eris followed behind her, his gaze settling upon Azriel. No matter how hard Azriel tried he couldn’t help but let the Autumn High Lord’s gaze cut into him. 

“Shadowsinger,” Eris drawled as he stood in front of him. 

Despite Azriel being a little bit taller than Eris, the Vanserra still commanded the conversation. Azriel could feel his change in power. Y/N gently grasped his hand and Azriel looked at her, pupils dilating. 

Eris folded his hand behind his back as he addressed the small group. “I am glad you could all come tonight.”

Cassian suppressed a laugh. “No you’re not. You only needed to send invitations to us because it would reflect badly upon you if you didn’t.”

Eris’s gaze cut into Cassian. A wicked smirk forming on his lips. “As always you are wrong. You are really proving how uneducated you are.”

Cassian growled at Eris but it only made the amusement in the High Lord’s eyes grow. 

“I am glad you could all attend so you could witness how to throw a real celebration and a way to bring people together that isn’t a reason to show off your power to those poor souls trapped in the Court of Nightmares,” Eris remarked. The glare Cassian gave him would have been enough to put anyone into a grave. 

Eris clapped his hands, a smile replacing his smirk. “Well, now. Why don’t you all get back onto the dancefloor. I have a few tasks to do and conversations to have before the night is over.”

Eris’s gaze fell on Y/N. “It was wonderful dancing with you, Y/N. You are a beautiful dancer.” All words of flattery, no real meaning behind them. 

“You are an amazing dancer too, Eris,” Y/N replied genuinely. 

Eris scoffed playfully. “Don’t flatter me too much, Y/N, I can only take so much.”

Eris held out his hand to Y/N and Azriel fought the urge to smack it away. Beautiful rings decorated his fingers and Azriel couldn’t stop the urge to scoff. Eris didn’t even spare him a glance. Gently, Y/N placed her hand in his, Eris’s fingers tightening around hers. The jewels embedded in the gold on the rings were a perfect match to Y/N’s dress.

“It was a pleasure,” Eris said, no hint of deception in his tone.

A small kiss was placed upon Y/N’s knuckles. She smiled at him before pulling her hand away– fingers lingering for a moment too long. Taking a step back, Eris’s gaze fell upon Azriel. He frowned.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t bleed all over my ballroom floor, shadowsinger,” Eris said.

Azriel looked down at his hand and blood dripped from his fingers where the glass had cracked. He hadn’t noticed until now. 

“Oh!” Y/N exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

Azriel lifted his hand. “I’m fine.”

Eris rolled his eyes before flicking a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Azriel. “Make sure you don’t lose any more blood. My hounds will become accustomed to the scent and I can’t have that.”

Y/N gratefully took the handkerchief from Eris, their fingers brushing. The moment they touched, Y/N pulled away immediately as if she had been burned. Azriel didn’t question it as he looked at the blood continuing to seep from the small wound. 

“Thank you,” she muttered, turning to Azriel to wrap the handkerchief around his hand, keeping pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. 

There was no verbal response from Eris, much to Azriel’s surprise. With a small nod of his head, Eris walked away without sparing a glance back. He whispered something to one of the guards by the door before disappearing from the room. 

“How did this happen?” Y/N asked, her voice unusually quiet. 

“The glass cracked,” Azriel answered. 

Y/N only nodded before looking up at Azriel. Her features softened upon looking at him. The smile that made Azriel’s lips switch was a welcome feeling. Y/N pulled the handkerchief away once the bleeding had stopped. The bloody handkerchief was embroidered with Eris’s initials and it took everything for Azriel not to scoff. Regardless he pocketed it before offering Y/N his hand. 

“Will you dance with me?” Azriel asked.

Y/N placed her hand in Azriel’s, her skin soft against his scarred skin. “Of course I will.”

Despite Azriel not possessing the same dancing skills as Eris, the smile on Y/N’s face was the same one she always had for him. The two of them slowly walked to the centre of the dancefloor as the orchestra began playing once more. 

***

It was late into the night as Y/N changed into her night clothes. Everyone had retired to the rooms they were designated though if Y/N had her way, she would have run back to the Night Court and to lock herself in her room and never leave again. Her heart beat more rapidly and her palms were sweaty. If Azriel hadn’t picked up on anything amiss yet, he would soon. 

Y/N sat under the soft blankets as Azriel changed into his night clothes and slowly crawled into bed next to her. Her back was facing him so he hadn’t noticed the tears welling in her eyes. The night had been absolutely perfect; until it wasn’t. 

The blankets and sheets rustle as Azriel shuffled closer to Y/N, his hands wrapping around her while moving her hair away from her neck. His hot breath fanned on her bare skin and Y/N could hardly take it. 

If it had been any other night, she would have leant back in his touch and revelled in his kisses. Lips attached to her neck and everything in Y/N was screaming, her heart hurt and she found herself clutching her chest. 

Her chest moved rapidly as the first few tears escaped down her cheeks. Azriel pulled his head away, his dark eyebrow furrowed in concern. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked, worry dripping from his tone. 

Finally, Y/N turned her face towards Azriel. Upon seeing the pure concern and worry in his eyes, Y/N broke. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N sobbed. 

Warm hands cupped her face as Azriel wiped her tears away. “Sorry? For what?”

“Azriel,” Y/N said, looking up tearfully. Azriel immediately wiped them away. “I–”

The words were stuck. She knew that if she said them aloud, they would become real and Y/N couldn’t accept that, for some reason she couldn’t. The pain in her heart increased and she knew that it was only a matter of time before the claws of the bargain would close around her heart completely. 

Azriel rested his forehead against Y/N’s. “Tell me what it is, my love.”

“Eris, he–” Y/N cut herself off by a loud sob forcing its way through her lips. 

“What did he do? Did he say anything to you?” Azriel asked, rage building within him. If he needed to start a war with Autumn, he would; Y/N didn’t doubt him on that.

“No,  he’s–”

“Sweetheart,” Azriel said, gently but it seemed as if his words only made Y/N more hysterical. He had never called her that before now. “Please tell me.”

The claws sunk in even more and that last bit of pain seemed to force the words from Y/N. “He’s my mate.”

“W-what?” Azriel stuttered, not knowing if he heard Y/N correctly. 

“Eris,” Y/N said, her tears falling down her cheeks. “He is my mate.”

“No,” Azriel said, taking a step back from her, his heart seeming pierced by ice. “No, he can’t be.”

“He is,” Y/N whispered, finally opening her eyes. “The bond snapped in the ballroom.”

“Are you certain?” Azriel asked. 

Y/N nodded. If she spoke any other words, she was sure that she would only break down even more. The pain in her heart lessened but it was still prominent. It would be until one of them walked away. 

“So our bargain has been fulfilled,” said Azriel, his voice wavering, “once one of us leaves.”

“Az,” Y/N croaked. “We can still be together. This doesn’t need to be the end of what we have.”

“It needs to, Y/N,” Azriel said, avoiding eye contact. “Otherwise the bargain will hang over our heads just causing us pain until one of us eventually drops dead.”

“We will find a way to break it,” Y/N said, stepping close to Azriel. She stumbled over her feat, the pain worsening as she took steps closer to Azriel. “Please, Azriel…”

For a brief second, Azriel’s eyes softened. “The pain has already started for you. It must have started in the ballroom.”

Y/N encased Azriel’s hand with her own, trying her best to ignore the pain in her chest. “I can ignore it. We can– we can find a way to break the bargain.”

“And then what?” Azriel asked, his voice pained. “You have seen what has happened when someone finds their mate. Take Elain and Lucien for example. I never stood a chance in her eyes, even when I nearly kissed her, I could tell all she could think about was him– her mate. The same thing happened to Gwyn. I was courting her like she requested before she slowly began to cancel anything I planned for the two of us because she found her mate. No matter the connection you have with someone, they will always choose their mate. The bond connects your souls, it is hard to ignore that.”

“Azriel, please don’t do this,” Y/N said. 

For the first time since Y/N revealed the truth, Azriel looked her in the eyes and for a split second he considered returning to bed with her and acting like none of this damned night never occurred. But logic dominated over his heart. 

“We can’t, Y/N,” said Azriel, slipping his hand out of her grasp. “I will not allow myself to get in the way of what could be a lifetime of happiness for you.”

“What if the bond is wrong?”

Azriel nearly laughed. “I asked myself that at one point. It never is.”

Azriel fully turned his body away from Y/N, she wanted to reach out to him again but it was as if her body was rooted to the floor. 

“Az,” Y/N whispered. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going back ho– to the Night Court,” Azriel answered, nearly saying home. That cottage he shared with Y/N could never be his home now. Not anymore. “I will move my things back into the House of Wind.”

“Will you allow me to see you again?” Y/N asked, hope rising in her voice. 

“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” Azriel answered honestly. “It is too painful now to say anything for certain.”

Slowly, Y/N nodded her head. “Well then,” Y/N sniffed. “I hope you find your own mating bond one day.”

“Impossible,” Azriel said as he stepped closer to the door. “All hope of finding my mate dies here with you.”

Azriel was out of the door before Y/N could even reply. Her mouth hung open as she watched the door close with a soft knock. A single shadow remained in the room with her but before long it was seemingly pulled away. There was no pain in her chest anymore, there was nothing at all. 

Their bargain had been fulfilled.

Taglist:

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- strike through could not be tagged -

[callsign-rogueone]

burnout

bodhi durran x reader (darling!)

words: 1.0k

🏷️: set at the very end of iron flame, so IF spoilers, we never saw bodhi in the battle of Basgiath so here he is now, I guess you could consider this hurt/comfort? he isn’t hurt but is burnt out as the title suggests, sleepy clingy baby bo, marriage talk, the streets are saying it’s bodhi week, and while this doesn’t really fit any of the prompts, I’ve had it as a scrap for a while and decided to polish up and post it because he deserves to be taken care of and because I’ve been neglecting him 🥲

“Your mate has returned,” Sìoda announces. Your head turns immediately, eyes widening as you see Bodhi stumbling through the doors of the mess hall, which has now become an extension of the infirmary, with riders laid out on the tabletops or sitting on the floor, rags pressed against their noses or foreheads.

It takes him a second to spot you, and relief floods his body, his shoulders dropping.

He’s going to collapse.

You surge forward to catch him, lowering you both to the stone floor.

“Tired,” he mumbles, resting his cheek against your shoulder. You can feel the heat of his skin even through the material of your flight jacket — he’s burning up.

“I know, my love, I know, but I need you to stay awake for me,” you soothe, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. You pull his jacket open, looking for a gaping wound or some explanation for his exhaustion.

“He nearly burnt himself out,” Sìoda explains, relaying the message from Cuir, “But he is unharmed.”

You trust her, but you can’t risk it — you continue checking him over for any sort of injury, leaving no stone unturned. “I need you to tell me if anything hurts.”

“My head.”

You run a hand through his curls, checking for blood, but it’s not an easy task; his hair is damp with sweat and rainwater. You have to keep pulling back, looking at your palm for any sign of bleeding.

Bodhi just hums, leaning into your touch — he’s always loved you playing with his hair, and it’s the fastest way to get him to fall asleep, which really isn’t working in your favor here.

“Eyes open, honey. Keep talking to me, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, blinking up at you slowly. “Gods, you’re pretty. I can’t believe that we’re married.”

“Me either, Bo. Me either.”

“I want to marry you for real, though. Wan’ a real ceremony n’ rings and everything. Already have… have my vows written out.”

“Someday,” you promise. “When all of this is over, and the continent is at peace.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Eyes open,” you prod again.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Just tired.”

“I know, honey. I am too. We’re going to take a long nap after this, but not yet, okay? I need to make sure that you aren’t hurt.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but you aren’t sure if he’s truly understanding you. Still, he lets you peel off his jacket and check him over for injury.

Nothing more than a bruise that you know is a few days old, from when he and Garrick got bored and decided to do… you still don’t know what exactly, but it probably wasn’t very smart. Boys will be boys.

“Alright. Let’s get you upstairs and showered, and then we can sleep.”

——————

As usual, your body wakes you up just before six — you don’t need the bells anymore.

There probably won’t be a formation this morning, with all the chaos, and the number of injured riders, plus the addition of the fliers, who aren’t really sorted into wings or sections, and the leadership changes; while nearly all of second wing had followed you to Aretia, the officers have elected a new wingleader to replace you. That’s going to be a really awkward conversation, but you really don’t want or need to have it today.

Bodhi is still asleep, his head resting on your chest. You work your fingers through his hair absentmindedly, letting your nails scratch lightly against his scalp. He hums appreciatively, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle his cheek against your shoulder. “I just had the worst dream,” he mumbles. “We were back at school, n’ there were wyvern everywhere…”

Your heart aches. Of course that’s the conclusion he’d come to in his sleepy haze, that the last two days must have just been a bad dream, and that because you’re here together, cuddled up and safe in a comfortable bed, that you’re still at Riorson house.

“That wasn’t a dream, honey,” you say gently. “That all happened.”

He tenses, his eyes locking with yours. You don’t know what he remembers, but none of it was good, and he’d been separated from Xaden and Garrick…

“Everyone’s okay,” you soothe, still running your fingers through his curls. “We all made it through. You just overworked yourself a bit— you almost burnt out.”

That relaxes him a little, but he’s still not fully settled. “Are you okay?” He asks, sitting up and moving the covers, inspecting you for injury.

“I’m fine, Bo. Just some bruises.”

He finds them almost immediately, laying featherlight kisses to each of the three purple and brown marks. That seems to satisfy him, and he lays back down beside you, careful not to put pressure on them.

“You were cute last night. All mooney-eyed, asking me to marry you… like you were drunk.”

His cheeks warm. “It definitely felt like that.”

You can’t help but snort at the memory of him, Garrick, Liam, and Xaden, who had decided to raid Fen’s wine cellar on a warm summer evening, and each had a bit too much to drink. The other three had spent the night there, lying down to sleep on the stone floor, but Bodhi left to find you, and was incredibly clingy and kissy when he did.

Prying him off of you, and getting him fed and ready to sleep was a challenge, but the next morning, he was the only one of the four without a bad hangover.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“In sickness and in health, right?” you ask softly, fingertips tracing the smoke-like pattern of his relic.

“For better or worse,” he adds, his eyes catching yours.

The pair of you finish the vow in quiet unison. “For as long as we both shall live.”

[helluvapoison]

Feelings

imagine being another fallen angel and experiencing lust for the first time

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI

warning: nsfw but no smut, slight but unintentional corruption kink,

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Unlike the other emotions, this one crept up on you slowly. It lied in wait most of the time, only revealing itself around Lucifer. Truthfully the feeling came so infrequently that you didn’t think to worry about it, forgot about it even. Then his hand would linger on your waist or he missed your cheek, placing a kiss on your neck and a tiny flame ignited deep inside you. You accepted his stammered apologies but the feeling did not.

The warmth itself was uncomfortable solely for the reason of being new, it never hurt! Not like this.

“I think I’m hurting again.”

The calmness of your voice shouldn’t have alarmed him but Lucifer jumped to action before you finished talking, worried eyes scanning you over as they always did. Without hesitation, he took your hand when you were close enough and sat next to you on the couch. Little did he know his touch on your knee scorched you.

“Where is it this time, darling?”

“Here,” You unabashedly gestured over your stomach.

Lucifer’s voice pitcher higher, cooing,“Hungry? I can have Alfredo whip you up—“

“We don’t need to bother Alfonzo. I’m not hungry.”

His brows pinched together in confusion.

“But you said..?”

“Here.”

You enveloped his wrist and guided it up your thigh. About an inch away, where the warmth bloomed stronger with his touch, as if drawing him near, Lucifer snatched his hand away. His pupils shrunk to slits, wings audibly popping out as he jumped. His fingers that had almost grazed you had stretched and closed taught, remaining a fist.

“Oh! Oh! Oh shit.”

His reaction pulled a downright pitiful expression from you. Lucifer drew in a deep breath, calming himself and folding his feathers away. Awkwardly, a different kind than what you were used to regarding him, he sat back down. You couldn’t not notice how far he sat from you, how he folded his hands in his lap and refused to make eye contact. Hell hadn’t made a liar of you yet; you were hurt by this.

“I-I don’t think I can help you with this one, sweetheart,” Lucifer swallowed thickly, curling a finger into his collar and tugging on it, “I-I-I don’t even think I gave Charlie ‘the talk’! That wouldn’t be…”

You tried to be patient, stars did you try, but while he took his time you were being burnt alive from the inside out! You knew you needed something from him and he was unfailingly the answer. Lucifer had never denied you before, outright or not.

“You said you felt everything down here,” You pointed out.

Leaning in on your hands, you tilted your head and searched for what he refused to share. His face blushed brighter and harder than before. Embarrassment wasn’t right. It almost looked as if he was praying for an escape.

“You’re ashamed?”

Lucifer blew a raspberry, crimson slits darting all around, deliberately avoiding where you sat, “No! Nope, no shame over here!”

If not him… then perhaps it was you? Could you drive the King of Hell to shame? Surely not, how arrogant of you to even dream of it. Yet the question rolled off your tongue before you could stop it.

“Have I done som—“

With a jolt he sits up rigid and serious, desperately trying to keep what little distance remained. You were a breath away, staring into his eyes with such adoration it made your problem that much harder to ignore.

“You haven’t done anything wrong. This—This is just… I can’t be the one to help you with this.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help.

He did. Desperately so. Disgustingly so.

He could sink his claws and teeth into you right fucking now and make you feel better— better than better! It was heart stopping, the idea that he could be the one to show you what pleasure is like actually made him breathless. Fuck, how he wanted to see how your face when he brought you to your peak. Your moans would be a symphony to behold, his name on your lips would be his new favorite song. The thought of being your first and only clouded his mind with desire.

He would claim you truly if you’d have him. And the look in your eyes told him you would.

But would it be right? Lucifer’s had plenty of experience, he’s not worried about disappointing you— however you regretting him afterwards? It might kill him.

“But I want you to,” The sincerity in your voice sent his heart racing, “It only happens around you—“

“You—“ Lucifer chuckled nervously, shaking his head, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Briefly, you shot him a warning glare before softening your expression. You cautiously grabbed his hips, slowly so he could deny you if he really wanted. (Never again.)

“I know what I’m feeling. I know you’re responsible.”You counter slyly, maneuvering him into your lap, “I know I don’t want it to go away.”

Lucifer swallowed hard on nothing, staring obviously at your lips as you spoke with lidded eyes.

“I thoug-thought you said it hurt.” He choked.

“I’m starting to understand why. I need you—“ His breath hitched when you ground up against him, holding him firmly in place to feel his hard on, “—to do something about it.”

Clutching your shirt like his life depends on it, he whines. You’re putting his restraint to the test.

And he’s about to fail.

“Please? You’re always so good at making me feel better when I’m hurting, Luci.”

[jinkiezzsstuff]

At First Sight 3

Part: [1] [2]

Alastor x doe!fem!reader (gender neuteral pronouns)

warnings: 18+ SMUT, tentacles inclusion, tentacle bondage, predatory prey kink, breeding kink, creampie, male and female masturbation, in heat trope, tentacle masturbation, squirting, dirty talk, choking kink a tiny tiny amount, horror aspects, size kink if you squint, pregnancy although not in depth, you and al become parents, jealous alastor, alastor and lucifer hate eachother, lucifer disagrees with your relationship, swearing, babies given a name, girl dad alastor, NOT PROOF READ LADS I WAS LAZY, lemme know what i missed xoxox

taglist: @readergirlstuff @purplerose291 @chirimeimei @sirens-and-moonflowers

word count: 7.3K

Alastor had to bite his tongue through many instances in his life he rather not bite his tongue through, but this was by far the hardest he’s ever had to hold back. Lucifer pulled you into a strong hug, cooing at how much you’d grown and changed, pinching your cheeks and kissing your head. Even Alastor’s shadows edged out angrily across the floor at the devil, however you seemed to pay no mind to your newly wedded’s distaste in the devils affections. In fact you were laughing and playfully swatting at Lucifer for treating you so childishly.

Moulting into a shadow slithering across the floor like a snake, he crept up beside you and when he fully formed from the black goop, he waited not a second to pull you into him, and when he did you gave him a dreamy love sick look. Lucifer's face wasn’t shy in his display of disgust, eyes darting to you and Alastor, mouth ajar. “No.” Lucifer uttered in theatrical horror, jumping back and pointing his cane at Alastor. Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Alastor puffed with pride. “Yes.” Alastor practically growled, meanwhile rolled your eyes at both of their idiotic behaviour.

“I mean Charlie said you had an…. interesting taste in men but HIM?!” You grinned nervously at the king, his face soured as he glared at Al. You were in the midst of saying some good old recovery words to ease Lucifers mind, when Alastor pipped up, head held high as he spoke. “Yes indeedy! This little darling and I have become quite the pair. A married pair.” Alastors words were sharp and punctual, like spears tossed forcefully right at the king himself.

You’ve been in Lucifers life so long you might as well be a second daughter, now this deer fuck is stealing both his biological daughter and the one he practically adopted? Lucifer was steaming and you were caught between the two, you knew you were mated to Alastor, but that didn’t change how near and dear the king was to you.

“Guys,” You ushered in a hushed tone bringing your hand up, looking quite meek between the two seething demons. “Please relax, it’s not that serious. Alastor is my mate Luc-” As you were in the middle of calmly explaining the situation Lucifer jumped up like the ground had burnt him, horns shooting out of his head. “His what?!” Lucifer shouted, wings splaying out, tone demonic. Alastor chuckled, his static overlay enhanced as he fixed his monocle. “Yes, I just knew this doe had to be mine when I laid eyes on her! Oh my what a night we had.” In any other situation, on any other day, Alastor couldn’t have those words waterboarded out of him, but just in spite of the devil, he knew he ought to push his own boundaries.

The devil face morphed into shock horror as he tugged at his hat in pure stress, meanwhile Alastor stood tall and smug, with a shit eating grin on his face. You could tell Alastor was going to exploit your relationship just to piss Lucifer off. “What the holy fuck!” The king exclaimed, running in a quick circle, trying to grasp the situation. By now Lucifers entire demonic form was out, eyes blood red, horns at full length, wings flapping occasionally behind him. Thankfully Alastor wasn’t visibly upset, keeping his form and tone fixed. “Guys, Luce, relax! I wanted Alastor the moment I saw him, trust me I know what he’s done and who he is, but there was something about him. You know I’m not that stupid hellion who falls for anybody’s charms, Alastors got something.”

Lucifer didn’t seem to care for your reasoning, instead he glared at Alastor even harder, and pointed his index and middle finger toward his own eyes, and then Alastors. “I’m watching you deer dick.” Then Lucifer turned and stormed off, ignoring your call to come back and relax. Sighing your platinum ears flattened against your hair and head, posture falling. “Come now my dear, don’t dwell on that silly little man’s equally silly and little emotional control! We’re married now! We should be celebrating our fantastical venture into domestic romance!”

Although Alastor was right, the timing was wrong, and his voice was too happy for your state. “I know, but he’s like a second dad, I want him to like you and it stresses me that he doesn’t.” Alastor hums, gently guiding you back upstairs to your now shared bedroom. “Things tend to change with time sweetheart, let this be one of those things that change with time. He can see how good we are together and how good I am for this hotel!” You hummed falling into his side, your tail wagging happily as you reached the bedroom.

“I was also hoping he’d be able to lend us some advice but now I'm doubtful.” The door closed behind you and him, you immediately kicked your shoes off to free the hooves. “What advice dear?” Alastor asked softly, attention focused on untying his bow tie. “Well i’m quite concerned about getting pregnant with a fawn, and I want to know if our mating it’s demon or animal specific.”

The air got tight at the mention of children, and immediately you looked over to him watching his movements stall. His coat was now off leaving him in just his vest and button up. Sighing you rubbed your hand forcefully your forehead, mushing your skin around in an attempt to relieve the conflict in your head. “You mustn’t talk like that, little doe.” Alastors tone was stern, pointed and lacking all radio static, it was just his raw vocals that sounded almost raspy. You felt a few emotions at the way he said that, upset, angry, shocked.

Momentarily you scolded yourself for being so ludacris, this was Alastor! A serial killing, cannibalistic overlord who dealt in black magic, not your fairy prince; there were going to be big bumps and hurdles along the journey and you shouldn’t twist yourself up in a rose coloured fantasy. “Would it be that bad for you?” You couldn’t help but ask, your gaze averted instead focused on the intricate details of the wooden floor.

Alastor growled, slithering up beside you, using his magic to his advantage. “Now my dear don’t look so glum, you’re the first being of any kind to capture my heart. Shouldn’t that be something my dear?” You melted into his side when his arms came up to wrap around your figure. You stayed silent for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing and upset either of you. “It just felt saddening I guess, to have you react like that. I know a child is so much work, it is its own being; but when you reacted that way it felt like rejection of me, and us as a couple. Like i’m not good enough to be mated to.” Tears began to gather in your eyes, and you tried your best to keep them at bay, not wanting to cry about something so silly.

Your ears lay flat above your head, Alastor slowly petting the space between them as you spoke. Guiding you to your shared bed, Alastor sat you down, and then himself beside you. “My sweet doe,” Alastor said, smooth as butter, nuzzling himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. “If you so desire a child, we can certainly play into the fantasy, however we haven’t a clue whether it’s truly possible for me to reproduce!”

Resting your head atop his, feeling his soft ears flick and fold, his hair soft and scented with a masculine foresty shampoo. “Alastor,” You whined, making him chuckle darkly. “What about the mating stuff?” Alastor blew air on your shoulder before dragging his sharp teeth up your exposed neck. “My dear I'm sure you and I can figure it out together, no need for some silly devil. Besides we’re the two mated, we know deep down what we’re supposed to do, we knew when we first met each other we were meant to be.” Alastor leaned back from you, cupping your cheek.

You smiled at him enjoying the hazed lidded look Alastor had in his eye. “You have to be nice to Lucifer though.” Alastor growled lowly, the sound reverberating through his chest loudly. It sent shock waves through you, hearing such an animalistic sound from him. “It’s extremely hard to be nice when it’s so easy to make him upset!” Rolling your eyes, you brought your hands up to his face and held his face as he held yours. His ears flattened to each side as his eyebrows quirked, you felt a little bit of pride at the sight, it had only been a few weeks since you’ve been together but Alastor was already way more relaxed around you, to the point of freely showing emotions through movements in his tail and ears.

Pulling him toward you, you gave a soft kiss, which he immediately returned with a hum of approval. Alastors body inches nearer to yours, pressing himself next to you. Alastor broke the kiss, looking down at you with bedroom eyes, you returned the look, grinning at him coyly.

~

Lucifer fumed, stomping around, a week had passed since Lucifer found out you and that god awful creature were a pair. He insisted on staying at the hotel in order to keep an eye on the demon; assure that you were safe. Lucifer kept a keen eye on Alastor, like a fly on the wall, but from what Lucifer could tell, Alastor was a perfect gentleman! It pissed him off entirely. Alastor bent over backwards for you, making your breakfast and coffee every morning, helping you style your hair, helping you dress, assisting you with tasks you loathed completing, hell one night Lucifer caught Alastor teaching you how to play the piano, and when you got angry at your consistent failures, Alastor would reassure you lovingly and patiently.

It drove Lucifer insane because as much as he cared for you, he selfishly wanted Alastor to be a bad partner, giving reason as to why he should leave his two daughters and the hotel alone! But everytime he looked for a flaw he found none, half the time he found himself impressed, Alastor knew what to say, and was confident in his charm. “Dad, you gotta relax! YN is fine.” Charlie said worriedly, placing a hand on her fathers shoulder. Lucifer sighed, slamming his head against the bar table. “They want to have kids, Charlie!” The man sulked, voice muffled by the wooden bar he tried to morph and become one with. “WHAT!? Oh my gosh! That would be amazing! Why wouldn’t she tell me?!” Charlie at this point was violently shaking her father with excitement, a slight bounce in her as she shook him.

Lucifer looked off to the side, guilt evident in his eyes. “They didn’t tell anyone; I overheard.” Today in fact, he overheard the two of you in the back of the hotel, having a picnic in the garden. You had your head in Alastors lap as he pet your hair and ears occasionally, and told you stories from when he was alive; which you greatly enjoyed since you’d been born in hell. When he began to speak about his mother the conversion shifted to parenthood, and then children. Originally Lucifer didn’t intend to stay long, he simply slithered through the grass to eavesdrop a bit, make sure all was well and leave.

But he couldn’t leave when he heard what Alastor had to say. “Y’know dear, I never considered having children, but then again, I never considered being married either. I’ve thought about children now, of course, ha ha,” Alastor laughed boisterously. You could tell it was to cover up the nerves he felt inwardly, but Lucifer found him to be insufferable and inconsiderate. “We don’t know if we can Al,” You said softly, reaching your hand to Alastors cheek. Alastor quirked a brow amusement visibly shining in his eyes that searched your face for something. “We’d just have to wait until mating season darling.” Lucifer gagged at that, you however didn’t quite understand and it made Alastor coo about how adorable you are.

“Oh so we’re not supposed to know they’re gonna try for a baby?” Charlie asked stunned, backing away from her father. “No,” He moaned, slamming his head back down on the table. Charlie gave her dad a look but brushed it off, this was very exciting for her, she’d only tell Vaggie, that way the two could both subtly baby proof the hotel!

~

Autumn in hell roamed around and it was one hell of a year, the hotel went under attack, Lucifer then made himself a whole quarter of the hotel his, and Alastor followed suit with his radio tower, Sir Pentious died, Adam died, there was so much hectic chaos you could barely keep up. Not to mention the beginning of October left you feeling odd, to say the least. You couldn’t completely understand why, not much changed in the recent days, aside from a few sinners checking in. Nothing bad happened between you and Alastor either; things have been fantastic, the two of you would have the occasional spat about morality and manipulation, but Alastor had your soul and was your mate, so in the end you’d give in to him, and he in his own way to you.

One of your biggest points of contention was Alastors multi-beneficial behaviour, if he was going to do something you knew it was double edged, one side benefiting him and the other side doing what he was supposed to with the illusion of being gracious. One of the biggest arguments was kids; Alastor talked about having them in ways that benefited him, how it would rank him above other sinners, he’d have bloodline in hell which would grant him further authority beyond the pride ring, he could train his offspring to be like him. In short, Alastor didn’t want children, he wanted mini hims, to run around killing and eating others.

You tried your best to convince him that a child was no means to power, but he truly couldn’t understand the point of having them besides that. You tried not to blame him, understanding he wasn’t a fairy prince he was Alastor, and you loved him for that, but at times dealing with his psycho was frustrating.

You’ve noticed him acting strange today, he insisted you wore his clothes he’d been wearing the day before, you thought that was the strangest thing and tried to squeeze the reasoning as to why he wanted you to wear his worn dirty clothes. Unfortunately you never fully got the answer out of him, aside from him tutting that he wanted to make ‘that devil’ seethe, so you did. It wasn’t like it really bothered you, hell he even went out of his way to magic the clothes to fit your frame baggily. You wore one of his washed out red button ups, and his slacks, thankfully you found the fit to be somewhat chic and enjoyed the idea of prancing around in clothes that were his, and smelt like him.

Walking down to the lobby like you did everyday, you were greeted by Alastor holding your cup of coffee as always, this time however his appearance looked worrisome. “What’s wrong Al?” You exclaimed rushing over to him, gazing up to him because his form was just slightly elongated. “Nothing my dear! Just a little bit of frazzle this morning!” You didn’t believe that for one second; his antlers were out and looked like they were peeling, his eyes were black and turned to dials, his neck elongated, smile strained and his hair puffed. “Was it you and Lucifer having some marital spat again?” You joke, taking your cup of coffee and following him into the kitchen.

“No dear, please refrain from commenting about that filthy devil, it’s insulting to replace you with him. It’s simply the change of seasons.” Setting his coffee on the counter top, he leaned on it, arms folded and looked over to you. Your ears folded down, a confused look taking over your face. “Is it a deer thing? I woke up feeling strange too, I’m sweating more than usual, and it’s hot, and sometimes my body will start tingling!” You explain hurriedly, slightly worried at what was going on.

Alastor swallowed, smile straining, he wasn’t equipped with how to handle the situation. “Well dear,” Alastor stalled, momentarily scratching the loose felt on his antler. You gazed at him waiting for a response, but it never came, he just filled the air with static, eyeing you up and down. “Hello, Al? I would prefer to know, you look stressed.” You urged leaning toward him, Alastor inhaled deeply, and exhaled a growl. Your body reacted instantly to the noise, feeling a travelling sensation of heat shoot from your groin to your head making you feel dizzy. “If we are to talk about such things, it will not be here.” He snapped eyes closed tightly, fists clenched, you had no clue what was up with him. Just as you were about to urge him further, Lucifer came skipping into the kitchen whistling a tune. “Oh heyyy guys!” Lucifer exclaimed in a valley girl-esque voice, strutting up to the two of you.

“Morning big daddy.” You say jokingly, it wasn’t that big of a deal to you two; you always referred to Lucifer by either his name or some variation of dad. Alastor however didn’t find this to be funny, you and lucifer watched as Alastor grew taller, his static deafening. “Uhhh morning pumpkin,” Lucifer muttered, eyes focused on Alastor as he spoke. You heard the clacking of heels against the floor and your attention turned to the door. Angel paused at the entrance looking between Al and Lucifer. At this point Alastor leered over Lucifer, bent abnormally so, you were eyeing Angel between the gap Alastor left open. You mouthed ‘help’ at Angel, but he only grimaced and slowly backed off. “Do not refer to them that way.”

The air thickened, Alastor was tall and violent looking, there was black substance leaking from between his yellow teeth, the lights were dimmed and flickering, while his radio played creepy and glitchy old timey music. His voice was nearly unrecognisable as he grit his words out at Lucifer, and for the first time in hell, you felt terrified of a sinner. Most of the seven sins weren’t this eerie when they got mad, neither were the hellborns, they mainly just killed whoever crossed them; no one had shown their true demonic powers in front of you before.

“Woah there, big fella… uh, alright! I’ll just leave you two to it! And i’ll be gone!” And just like that Lucifer scurried off in an extremely comical way. Alastor, despite Lucifer gone didn’t come back to himself, still hunched over breathing deeply, static crackling through the air. You didn’t exactly know what to do in this situation, so for a moment you just stood watching. Eventually, after about two minutes of silence, Alastor shrunk, ever so slightly, still tall and creepy but not nearly as much as before. The static ceased, and the lights returned to the usual brightness, Alastor looked down at you, his usual red eyes back. “I’m so sorry dear, I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

You swallowed harshly, you had a strange mix of fear and arousal swirling within you that you weren’t ready to share with the demon, so instead you shook your head, unconvincingly so. “No not at all Al, how come that made you so upset?” A soft record scratch came from him when you asked. “What ever do you mean?” He innocently asked, tone lifted in false innocence. Crossing your arms together, hip propped out, you eyed him closely trying to gage what you were dealing with. As your eyes ran from his antlers down, you stopped crudely at his hips, noting the strain that appeared.

Alastor wasn’t big on sex, and to be fair you didn’t exactly have a high libido either, you preferred make out sessions and sweet romance, not necessarily needing sex. So it wasn’t often you’d see him in such a state, normally he only showed arousal when he was actively involved with you. Without warning he leaned over you, hands splayed across the counter behind you, trapping you between him and the counter. “Naughty little doe, can’t keep your eyes off me?” Alastor mocked darkly, his breath brushing against your cheek. The way he contorted down from his stretched height didn’t look anatomically possible, and despite the terrifying look of him you felt giddy and cheeky, with the urge to egg him on further.

You couldn’t stop the smirk that crawled its way onto your face, biting your lip in an attempt to curb it, unfortunately Alastor saw. Forcefully he grabbed your cheeks with his claws, yanking your face upward to face him properly. “My dear, I’ve been playing nice but i can see the mischief in your eyes-” Before he could finish you flattened your fingers and palm flat against the bulge in his pants. Alastor stilled as you gave him a pout, doe eyes blinking up at him and your white ears pulled back.

Alastor growled at the sight, shamefully bucking into your warm hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, you're so handsome, y’know?” You whined, your other hand placed on his forearm beside you. Alastor grunted, something you rarely heard from him. “Upstairs, go.” He replied flatly, staring beyond your head at the cabinets above. Giggling manically, you ducked under his arms and sprinted to your shared room. Your body felt on fire and you could feel the arousal between your legs. As you rushed up the stairs you bumped into Angel who grabbed you by the shoulders. “Woah there toots, where ya headed now so cracked out, are things with big red all good?” Before you could respond, Alastors demonic form made way down the hall, shadows crawling out from his feet and knocking out the lights.

“Oh yeah okay, makes sense.” Angel said in a hurry, before taking off leaving you to your own devices. Laughing aloud with a giant grin on your face you continued sprinting down the hall, just barely out of Alastors grasp. His radio was a good tell on how close he was to you, the static was going crazy nearly giving you a headache. You broke out into an anxious run, unable to fight off the anticipation of what would happen. When you got to the room, you ran inside shutting the door. You glanced around and decided a good hiding place would definitely be the most cliche, not under the bed but under a computer desk. You squished yourself underneath the desk, which was incredibly uncomfortable and pulled the chair in to cover you as much as you could.

The door suddenly creaked open, the shadows consumed the floor, the lights dying out. Alastors static couldn’t be heard, but you could hear and feel the vibrations of his footsteps around the room. “Oh sweet thing, I know you don’t truly want to hide from me. Why don’t you come on out to me?” His voice was smooth compared to before, the static left his voice, leaving his unique and rich voice all bare to your ears. The burning sensation in your body worsened and it felt torturous to deny your body any friction, you knew if you moved you were done for.

Despite not being in real danger, your heart kicked up in speed when you heard his nails drag across the wooden desk above, his hooves coming into sight at the corner. Alastor pulled out the chair, humming to himself as he sat down. You held your breath as you watched him spread his lags out, shadows darker than the dark room swarming up behind him. You watched him unbuckle his belt lazily, his head obscured from your view, only his clawed hand and crotch in sight. “Up,” He ordered once his belt was undone, and his shirt untucked. Slithering out from under the desk, you used his thighs to balance and help you lift yourself up. Before you could fully get up he grabbed you by the neck and tugged you into a firey kiss. His teeth scraped against yours, and his tongue instantly took over your mouth, exploring and tainting every inch of your mouth.

You moaned into him as his other hand gripped your hip, digging his nails deep into it. Yanking your body up, you now sat on his lap just below the large bulge he’d been teasing you with. You jerked your hips forward, yearning the friction of him against you. Alastor pulled away a string of saliva still connecting the two of you together, you whined throwing your head back slightly in defiance. You’d never wanted someone so badly before, it was even worse then the first time you’d met Al. Panting you wrapped your arms around his neck, humping him mindlessly, the only focus being on cumming. “Look at you,” Alastor sneered, gripping your hips and pushing you down against him. “So desperate, you’ve got no restraint. I’m disappointed in you, little doe.”

You croaked out what could only be described as a plea, but really it just sounded like a meek shout. Above the two of you Alastors antlers grew out, looking large and broad. “Y’know what time it is my dear.” Alastor groaned watching sweat slip down your chest, eye twitching as he held himself back. “Answer me.” He ordered sticking his nails into your tights, you gasped and moaned finding more pleasure in the act then pain. “No,” You cried softly and breathlessly. At that Alastor brought his head down to nuzzle the top of your head, careful of his antlers, and whispered in your ear. “Mating season.” You stuttered breathing out a “ha” noise, lacking humour and instead being replaced by desperation. In this position you could smell only his scent, and the arousal you left in the air, it made you feel dizzy with lust. You knew what this meant and it edged you further to the fall; he was going to mate you; breed you. You cried his name and begged for nothing, just tugging at his coat and begging for him, and only him.

The demon chuckled darkly moving away from your hair, and with lidded eyes he looked down at you, messily humping him, nearly on the verge of tears. What a sight to behold. His tentacles emerged lifting you above his lap, just enough for him to get his slacks off. Once off, he leaned back, you hoisted in the air still squirming, he practically lit up with a light bulb of an idea. Gripping himself through his boxers, Alastor slowly stroked himself; grinning cheekily up at you as he did so, seeing how instantaneously you were captivated by him. Without your knowledge, the tentacles worked around you, undoing, and slowly pulling off your (alastors), slacks. With one tentacle around your waist, two under each arm, and two underneath your knees keeping your legs pulled apart, there was too many tentacles to notice that your pants and underwear were being discarded.

Not to mention Alastor had you enamoured with the way he stroked himself, humming out noises of approval, just for you. You moaned when you felt the coldness of a tentacle inch up the entirety of your vulva, practically cupping your entire heat. You let out a guttural groan at the sensation, immediately jerking into his magic. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You cried shaking as the tip of the tentacle swirled your clit. Alastor watched you tentatively, enjoying all the ways your body reacted.

Alastor loved watching how your toes curled, or how your stomach would clench visibly, or how you feebly tried to pull your legs together. He sped his movements, enjoying the feeling of himself through his boxers, a little dribble of cum staining a wet spot on his drawers. Alastor rarely jerked off, but god did it feel good to put on a show for you, he loved the ways your eyes only focused on him, never moving away from what he was doing. Alastor saw you were coming close to the end, but if you were to cum, it was going to be around him. With the flick of a wrist, the tentacles plopped you back on his thighs, disappearing and making you cry out.

“Alastor please, please, please, I need you,” You whined bucking up into the air. Alastor grabbed your wrists that were flinging around slightly trying to keep yourself stable. Alastor would be the first to admit, it was extremely hard to keep his smile right now, he wanted to give you other expressions to burn into your brain. “Look at me darling.” Alastor cooed, not enjoying the fact your eyes were squeezed tightly shut. You were still mumbling incoherent pleas as you cracked them open, being greeted by Alastors chest and lazily leaned back figure, he was still stretched out to an abnormal degree which gave you and him more leeway. The way he looked at you as if you were a god, it made your stomach flutter, not to mention how he made you feel so effortlessly small, which in a way felt nice, especially with him.

“You’re so gorgeous dear, I hope our children have your eyes,” You curled forward against your will, gripping his shirt like it was your lifeline. You nearly came at his forwardness not to mention the certainty in his voice, and he found it to be oh so adorable. Carefully he lifted you and lined himself up with you, thanks to the help of his tentacles. Inhaling deeply, he briefly enjoyed the smell of your scent throughout the room, from your sweat, to your fragrances, to your arousal, it all intoxicated him all at once with need. Slowly he sat you down on him, you had made yourself so wet there was barely any resistance, you did however clench making it extremely difficult for Alastor to hold back.

Groaning loudly, the demon smiled wide, straining to keep his composure. You had fallen against his chest, gripping onto him tightly, mouth ajar, drool dripping, and eyes shut tightly, you were in bliss. The only thing your mind could comprehend was him, all of him, and having him breed you, mate you, fill you full of him. At that thought your hips involuntarily bucked up, your clit brushing against the curly pubic hair he had, that trailed up to his bellybutton. Alastor drew in a breath, leaning his head back against the large seat behind him, feeling electrified by your walls around him. Feet planted on the floor Alastor used his footing to fuck up into you harshly, jerking your body upward as he did so. You cried out his name, letting him use your body as he pleased, and use he did. Alastors gentleman ways were far behind him at this moment, his mind was clouded with one purpose and that was to breed you. He harshly jerked his hips up into you, bouncing you up and down on top of him at his own will and pace.

His head was still laid back on the head rest, exposing his neck to you. Speedily, as he jerked up into you, you focused on undoing the buttons of his collared shirt, your mind set on leaving bites and hickeys all along him. Once you gained access to his neck fully, you dived in moaning and dragging your teeth against his warm flesh. This caused him to snap forward, his arms caging you from behind, pushing you into him future. You licked, kissed and bit at his neck occasionally groaning his name, Alastor started to pant violently, growling every so often. Lifting his hips off the chair with you still there, he stood up, his tentacles assisting where ever he needed. With the new posture granted new access, and a new pace. With your legs wrapped his waist you could feel his his tail that wagged and stiffened repeatedly against you, it made your own wiggle in response.

Alastor was a true demon now, pushing your upper half backward, you fumbled afraid to fall and hit your head on the desk, but instead you were pleased to feel four tentacles holding you up, and keeping you from falling. Alastor dragged his claws down your now exposed chest, straight down to your clit, marking the trail down your skin with a discoloured line. It gave you goosebumps and you clenched in anticipation, as his movements had stunted a little bit ago. Finally his eyes met yours, clouded with lust and a deeper red colour than before, speaking of which- he could barely keep them open, so fucked out in his own lust. His movements began, slow and deep at first, his eyes never looking away from yours, and you were too hypnotised by his to even think about looking anywhere else but him. Alastor made sure with every thrust you felt it through your entire body, every prod was deep and forceful, and it worked making you see stars. You cried out clenching your legs around him as he finally began to pick up the pace, jolting your body with ever thrust.

As he rapidly picked up the pace, you moaned, whined and grunted out high pitched noises of pleasure that you never knew you could make. Alastor was growling, and grunting, teeth bared as he jackhammered into you, skin slapping filling the silent room. Bending forward to lean over you, he nipped and bit at your chest leaving prominite triangular teeth marks that were unmistakably his. With the current angle he hit a spot in you that caused you to squeal, screaming his name at the top of your lungs, you reflexively gabbed his antlers. “More, more,” You cried squeezing onto the thick antlers. Alastor moaned, not growled or grunted, moaned. His pitch was lifted and his eyes closed in bliss as he began to hump you desperately, his legs jittery from the excitement. Panting, he lifted his head to meet your eyes, which weren’t facing him but instead the wall, your head turned away shyly. Grabbing your face, he forced your head in his direction and crash his lips against yours.

It was an opened mouth kiss with no rhythm, just teeth, tongue and desire. You both moaned and panted into each others mouths, and each time Alastor let out a breathless moan, you clenched around him. Wrapping his arms around you, Alastor pulled his mouth away noses still touching. “I c-can’t dear, not gonna last.” Alastor gritted, making you whine and mutter incoherently, you were already gushing fluids all down his legs and balls like a water fountain. “Oh fuck,” Alastor moaned his static glitching in and out. His pace suddenly quickened to a sickening degree, every thrust he let out a breathy growl. “Gonna breed you,” He muttered against your lips before crashing them against you, with the senstaion of wet pubic hair bumping against your swollen clit, and his body heat suffocating you, you couldn’t hold out any longer. The coil snapped in you, liquid gushing rapidly out of you painting his cock with your fluids, your body violently convulsed against him, screeching his name like a wild animals.

Alastors eyes turned to dials as his pace quickened, your orgasm bringing his own on as he felt the pressure break, without care he continually hammered into you, moaning and groaning your name into the nape of your neck. Around the room the lights violently flickered and flashed various colours, the radio off to the side flicking on and off with a strange tune. The amount of cum he strung out felt inhuman, and it felt like it was bloating you up. After a few moments of him whining and fucking into you, his cum so bountiful it ended up leaking out of you with every pump. Eventually he stilled falling against you and his tentacles that were also shaking with strain and exhaustion. The flickering lights and crazy stereo glitching ceasing. Alastor gripped you tightly, his shadows encasing the two of you, and releasing you on your shared bed. Alastor hadn’t pulled out of you, instead he pulled you closer, his body snapping back to his regular size, and snuggled himself into your back.

You were barely responsive, still dazed and confused trying to catch your breath. Alastor played with your fingers absentmindedly, kissing your exposed shoulder. Sighing happily, you wiggled yourself back up into him. “I love you dear.” Alastor muttered, silently voice muffled from the fact his face was buried against your shoulder. “I love you too.” You felt him freeze against you, suppose he didn’t expect you to be coherent enough for you to realize or respond.

~

“I just think there’s something more going on ere’.” Angel teased grinning at you, Lucifer hand his head down against the bar, Charlie and Vaggie sat on the couch, Vaggie looked tired and pissed off. Husk was, well Husk, and Nifty was nowhere to be seen. “What do you mean?” You say innocently sitting at a chair with your morning coffee by your side. “Oh please! The whole seven rings heard you two!” The king wailed, grabbing his hat so hard it may have ripped. You felt heat crawl up your neck at the claim, surely you weren’t that loud right? “Oh ya! The whole hotels hydro went out, thanks a lot strawberry pimp, made my stereo go all haywire.” Angel snickered poking your thigh with a raise of his eyebrows. Alastor stood tall behind you, a relaxed smile on his face. “I had to hear you two moan all morning yesterday!” Lucifer cried out throwing himself off the chair dramatically throwing himself around in despair. Alastor growled beside you, and when you glanced up you were surprised to see his ears pinned back.

“Guys cmon, you’re making me uncomfortable.” You say, you weren’t at all uncomfortable, but you worried that Alastor may have been, and you knew he wouldn’t enjoy being pushed under the bus and presented as weak to sexual teasing. Charlie thankfully ushered her father a way, and Vaggie walked off with her giving both you and Alastor a glare. The room was momentarily silent once they left, you eyed Angel, and Husk throwing back alcohol at the bar. “So, kids eh?” Immediately Alastor morphed into his demonic form at Angels words. You gave Angel a look but he wasn’t afraid of either of you, instead he giggled and skipped over to Husk.

~

Cuddled down in your brand new duvets, compliments of Lucifer, you waited for your husband to get back. Thankfully Alastor was always punctual and never kept you waiting long. Beside you on the left side of the bed was a crib, decked out in soft pinks and reds, with black accents all around. Attached to the crib was a demonic mobile, with little wooden runes, teeth, and horn hung on it handmade by Alastor. You had given birth to your baby only a week ago, and Alastor was doting, and a little obsessed. He wouldn’t let you leave the hotel, and very rarely the room. If you did leave you were followed by him, his shadows and Husk. He’d been out today all day, doing a special broadcast which involved slaughtering dozens of citizens and broadcasting it just as a friendly reminder as to not get in his way, or mess with him.

It felt a little wrong, Alastor had told you his plans and when you looked down at your baby girls face you couldn’t deny him, you wanted people to stay away, so neither of you told Charlie or Lucifer where he’d be going, just that he’d be gone. And he was supposed to return shortly, you made sure to listen in on his torturous journey, slightly enjoying how hot he sounded. Beside you, Mara, your baby girl, stirred making baby noises as she did so. Leaning over you peaked in to see if she was actually awake or simply shuffling and making noises in her sleep. When you looked over you were greeted with big (e/c) baby eyes of your daughter, she had alastors hair and ears, but thankfully lacked his yellow teeth, you loved your husband but it was uh, his aesthetic. Scooping her up you cooed to her and placed her on your bare chest, petting the tiny wisps of red hair that sprout from her head. She was warm, and smelt like brand new baby, fresh skin, with fragments of yourself and Alastor lingering. Being a deer certainly heightened the pregnancy process, and Alastors fears of being like the wild bucks above on earth were quickly dismissed.

Alastor was enamoured with Mara the moment you found out you were pregnant, it was a very trying time considering everybody was absolutely against it or absolutely infatuated, you had people telling n the news obsessively writing articles about you two, Vox was absolutely up your guys’ ass, and Lucifer was his own little problem. He never left Alastor alone always hounding him on how to be a good dad and to not ‘eat the baby’, which always made the room go silent. Alastor suddenly materialized in the room, black shadows crawling away from his form as he stepped in. Immediately his eyes zeroed in on you and Mara, eyes brightening at the sight. Slinking over to the bed, Alastor slid in beside you arm coming around your shoulder while the other pet the baby’s head and little ears. “She’s just a beauty! Oh if only my mother could meet her.” You looked over to him at that, a little surprised at that, you were very aware he was a mommas boy but never had you thought of the fact he’s been so far from her for so long, and that he may inwardly desire to have her back in his life.

Little hands came up and grabbed onto Alastors long fingered claw, brining it to her mouth, Mara began to ‘chew’ on him. You grinned happily at the sight, Alastor chuckling beside you. “So, I was listening over the radio, but regardless, how’d it go?” You ask twisting your body toward him, he hummed pulling his hands away from Mara. “Oh it was spectacular, everything went swimmingly. I briefly met up with Rosie and relayed the news, she's absolutely thrilled at the birth of Mara, says we must come by with her for lunch.”

“Will you let that happen, I haven’t seen the outside in days.” Alastor hummed flatly giving you a playful cut eye. “Perhaps a day will be fine.” You snorted, focusing your attention back on the baby, placing a kiss on her forehead. “So, whadaya think, grandpa Luc-” Alastor quickly interjected. “Immediately no, but go on.” You laughed aloud, shaking your head at his behaviour. “Grandpa Luci, Uncle Angel, Uncle Husk, Auntie Charlie, Aunt Vaggie, then we have Cousin Nifty, andddd.” You trail off thinking about who else could be added to the equation. “Godmother Rosie?” Alastor pipped up, seeming genuinely happy, you agreed instantly, loving the idea of Rosie being the godmother should anything happen to you two. Or Lucifer, or Charlie.

Alastor gently gestured to the baby, signaling he wanted to hold her, so you passed her over delicately watching as she melted into Alastors chest. “So dear,” Alastor said with a mischievous tone, head tilting towards you. “Shall we feed her deer meat? I think it’s good to start em young!” You groaned, and rolled your eyes it seemed your first fatal relationship argument was kids, and now the next will be what to feed them.

[purrplpng]

my take on beast & ancient swap au burning spice & golden cheese edition

i have this au expanded bc i've been thinking about it for the past month or so, but i want to share some basic ideas i came up with for a bs & gc swap during all this time even if most of it seems kinda obvious

so basically golden cheese, formerly the herald of change, now holds the soul jam of destruction and her corruption has its roots in her greed obv, as time passed it grew bigger and bigger until it became harmful to everyone around her. she treats everything and everyone as her property, but not in a healthy way and believes that she can do whatever she wants with what is hers, thus being destruction. the whole world is already hers and she's so rich and spoiled that the treasures are not precious anymore and now are just some toys to play with until they break and she founds new ones. she can afford it. more and more and more and more

her appearance resembles more of a snake now than a bird. she flies much less than her og version and her wings are usually down, but it doesn't make her dislike using her wings

burning spice holds the light of abundance. he is a strong, brave and kind hero, he isn't greedy, in fact he's really generous. same as the og golden cheese, has lost his kingdom he deared so much in a war. but unlike her, he didn't make a virtual version of it, instead he tried to move on and build a new one from scratch, starting off small, which he succeeds to do much later on. as much as he enjoys witnessing the creation of something new, watching the new life spark, he still misses everything he held so dear before

his looks are inspired from his pre-corruption silhouette from the official beasts introduction video. normally, he has 4 arms, but after the first fight with golden cheese, she rips off the extra 2 of them. as he awakens, he gets his 6 arms

both the spice gang and the cheese gang are alive and well here and now

the spice gang is helping burning spice to regain his kingdoms prosperity, however only nutmeg tiger made it to beast-yeast together with burning spice by an accident

the cheese gang follow golden cheese more out of their own greed, trying to survive and get a piece of the riches

obviously, smoked cheese is swapped with nutmeg tiger. nutmeg tiger is still a strong mighty warrior, a proud general of burning spices kingdom. she shows a lot of care and loyalty to burning spice, always standing by his side. she has her own garden in the kingdom to take care of the plants because of her in-game sprite where she smiles watering the plants and i thought it was hella cute to ignore lol

smoked cheeses appearance and attitude didn't really change much because he was already villainous enough. but now he's extra villainous. he might be actually the only one to truly admire golden cheeses toxic greed, but is always ready to stab her back if anything for his own greater good. he's just as evil and greedy as her and he waits for a perfect moment to strike and take everything to himself, which didn't happen yet

mozzarella, being swapped with cilantro cobra, just like her gets killed by her ruler too. golden cheese accidentally kills mozzarella in her pursuit for burning spice

her loyal marzipan cookies followed her everywhere, listening to her orders

burnt cheese is swapped with safron buffalo and fettuccine with pepper pangolin

cheesebirds are swapped with kulfis. cheesebirds, just as og kulfis, live in fear and only wish to survive. elder kulfi (now high priest kulfi) is swapped with high priest cheesenbird (now elder cheesebird)

elder cheesebird and young cheesebird give burning spice and nutmeg tiger a shelter. young cheesebird later on gets saved by burning spice in his first fight with golden cheese

high priest kulfi is the holy healing herald of the burning spice kingdoms house of prayer and is a dear friend of burning spice

there is much-much more ideas and thoughts i can yap about, but im not a writer, i wanted to keep it as short as possible and also english isn't my first language so the language barrier is demolishing me lol im sorry if it was painful to read

i might actually redesign the designs a little bit later, those are just some random sketches i did to kinda imagine the blurry shape i have in my head on a paper as a whole, not getting into the details. and if a lot of yall like it i might actually put an effort and draw something much more than just two raw simple sketches lol

also please credit me if you want to use these designs or got inspired, i would really appreciate that :3

[wendichester]

🐇.•*¨`*•. easter blessing,

summary. you're working a case with the brothers. it gets festive.

pairing. sam + dean winchester x reader genre. crack

wordcount. 599

notes / warnings. happy easter babies 🐰🗿

You’d like to say this is the weirdest hunt you’ve ever been on.

But it’s really not. Which might be worse.

“So let me get this straight,” you say, squinting down at the crime scene. “We’re hunting... the Easter Bunny?”

Sam, bless his over-researched soul, doesn’t even blink.

“Technically? Probably a pagan fertility god that predates Christianity by like a few thousand years. But yeah. Bunny.”

Dean makes a face and kicks a trail of shredded pink plastic eggs off the sidewalk.

“This is a new low,” he mutters. “I didn’t survive hell to get murdered by some pastel-colored Bugs Bunny ripoff.”

You don’t point out that the corpse in front of you has literal jellybeans spilling out of its mouth. Or that the bite marks on the neck are unmistakably rodent-shaped.

The victim’s last expression is... haunted.

Sam flips through a lore book like it’s a normal Tuesday.

“Looks like Oschter Hase,” he mutters. “Old German folklore. Bringer of fertility, eggs, springtime.”

Dean snorts.

“Bringer of death now.”

You nudge a marshmallow Peep out of the gore with your boot. It's still warm.

Disgusting.

Fast forward to nightfall.

You’re in a graveyard (classic), surrounded by cracked eggshells and tufts of fur, holding a flamethrower.

Because, apparently, bunnies from hell don’t like fire.

Sam’s reading Latin out loud. Dean’s loading silver buckshot into a sawed-off. And you’re wondering if you can ever eat a Cadbury Creme Egg again without getting war flashbacks.

“I see it!” Dean shouts suddenly.

You turn.

And there it is.

Bounding toward you with bloodstained fur, beady red eyes, and an oversized wicker basket slung over its back like some kind of festive serial killer.

“That is not a bunny,” you hiss.

“Technically—” Sam starts.

“Shut up, Sam!”

The bunny shrieks. Shrieks. Like a banshee doing an exorcism. It launches straight at Dean, claws out, teeth bared, ears flapping like demonic wings.

Dean yells something that sounds like “SON OF A B—” and goes down hard under a pile of fur and rage.

“DEAN!”

You turn the flamethrower on and dive into the fray.

The bunny rears up like a fluffy demon spawn just as you pull the trigger. Fire roars. Fur ignites. Sam’s still chanting. Dean’s swearing. Somewhere in the chaos, jellybeans explode like tiny grenades.

The smell is horrific.

The thing lets out a final ungodly screech before collapsing in a pile of flaming tinsel and fur.

“I think that’s it,” Sam pants, stepping over the burning corpse like he hasn’t just witnessed seasonal trauma incarnate.

Dean rolls over and groans.

“Did anyone get the plate on that satanic thumper?”

You grin, a little breathless, a lot singed.

“Happy Easter, boys.”

An hour later, you’re at the diner down the road. Covered in soot, minorly concussed, and all staring at the very suspicious chocolate bunnies in the display case.

“So,” you say, sipping burnt coffee. “We’re never doing this holiday again, right?”

“Agreed,” Dean grunts.

Sam hums.

“Well, there’s still Beltane in a few weeks—”

“NO,” you and Dean both snap.

Dean raises his glass of whiskey like a toast.

“To never trusting rabbits again.”

“Or Sam’s German pagan crap.”

“Or candy.”

“Okay, not candy,” Dean amends quickly, grabbing a pack of mini eggs off the table. “I’m still emotionally attached to sugar.”

You lean back in the booth, bruised, exhausted, and vaguely traumatized.

But alive.

And kind of weirdly proud.

Because you, Sam, and Dean just saved a town from a deranged ancient fertility god disguised as the Easter Bunny. With Latin, fire, and questionable decision-making skills.

Just another day in paradise.

ꔛ. navigation ���˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[lxkeee]

END GAME

PART ONE

pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fluff

warnings: no warnings yet.

notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)

additional notes: this is a long one.

Part two |

[y/n] stood in the podium, her hands bound by golden chains. She looked at the higher angels who sat on the high chairs of the courtroom, her [e/c] eyes stared at them with boredom. She never liked being in heaven, so many rules to the point she couldn't breathe. She was created a few years after the infamous Lucifer fell from grace, she admired him. She has heard his cause and mentally agreed to his beliefs—she couldn't say it out loud as the higher beings would punish her. She was a good angel, always a rule follower and a good role model, then she suffered from burnt out, repeating the same thing everyday—waking up, praying, doing good, following the rules.

She started questioning their ways and now, the time has come for it to bite her back as she finally faces a trial. [Y/n] what happened the majority of her trial, she remembers doing a couple of nods in agreement and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever Adam said something stupid. She couldn't take whatever bullshit Sera was yapping about and decided to cut her off, “Enough about all these rules, just admit that us angels are egomaniacs, always hungry for control. Heck, Lucifer was right with his intentions but you guys saw it as an act of disobedience. You didn't like what he was doing since it didn't follow what you guys wanted him to do.” She said coldly, her tone making the whole room tense and cold, “he thought it was unfair to the humans to follow whatever heaven's command is without question and hesitation. But Lucifer gave them freedom,” [y/n] pauses, glaring at the higher beings, eyebrows furrowed and her eyes staring at their very soul, “Heaven is fake, you put on a show for everyone, pretending that everything is fine and this is a fun place filled with peace and we all know you guys want them to blindly follow your rules.”

“Do not ever speak his name or do you want to follow where he is?” Sera asked loudly, her voice commanding and echoing off the walls of the court but her message just made the angel in trial smirk, “Oh...? Frankly speaking, I think hell seems to be a better and more fun place than heaven. I could do whatever the fuck I want.” [y/n] says with a smirk, heart thumping loudly for the first curse word she had said. This made Sera more angry, “Then, so be it.” Sera sneers.

Falling... So this is what Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. Lucifer was lucky as heaven wasn't this harsh before, [y/n] closes her eyes as she felt the stinging pain of the wind caressing her back, golden ichor flowing from where her wings should be, but despite the pain, a grin was plastered on her face as she embraced the imminent pain she'll receive once she hits the burning ground of hell. Despite the extreme pain she felt on her back, the missing part of her that heaven decided to take—she felt free, shimmering tears cascades down her cheeks as she cried for her acquired freedom while simultaneously mourning for the loss of her wings. Her weak body passing by many, many clouds, passing by the crust of the earth and soon she could see the fiery red skies of hell, she can only wait for the impact.

She could hear the sound of something breaking and cracking, the loud ringing on her ears before her world turned dark. Falling from grace isn't enough to kill her.

Lucifer's usual schedule usually consists of him wallowing in self pity inside his room, making rubber ducks, or having an existential crisis in his balcony. Lucifer just so happens to be on his balcony that day, talking to his newly created rubber duck that looks like his daughter when his eyes noticed the dark red clouds of hell parting and a figure falling at extreme speeds, at first he thought it was another soul who ended up in hell but his eyes widened to see occasional gold shimmering on the figure. “What...” Lucifer murmurs in confusion, his eyes following the figure and what the...? It's about to land in his front yard.

Only his eyes widened in fear as the figure crashed and golden ichor splattered everywhere. The realization damned upon him that another angel has fallen from grace.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucifer never cursed so much as he jumped off the balcony, three pairs of wings springing out of his back as he quickly flew next to the crash site. “I swear to me if this person died,” this wouldn't be the first time someone died in his front yard but it would be the first time an angel would, but can an angel even die from this impact?

He quickly checked the fallen angel, identified that it's a female. She looked like such a mess, golden ichor splattered everywhere, messy hair from falling, eye bags, and passed out but despite all that, he found her to be very beautiful, “I swear to me, this isn't the time Lucifer.” he muttered to himself as he began to work and make sure this woman is treated properly. What made the king of hell freeze was when he used his power to lift her up gently, he noticed that so much blood was gushing out of her back where the bone that should connect to her wings. He just realized why this angel crashed, she couldn't fly. She doesn't have her wings anymore and that realization filled his heart with anger.

He stared at her broken form lying on the bed of the spare guest room of the castle, he couldn't fully heal her. There's a limit to how much his angelic powers could do, it can't reverse the damage heaven themselves have done to her. Thankfully, he managed to fix all broken bones and close the wounds she had received but he can't fix the trauma she'll receive from this. Believe him, he tried (with himself).

His hand caressed away the hair that was falling on her face, finally taking a good look on her. She looked more beautiful without those wounds, she looked better without the stress—a contrast to the first time he's seen her. Warmth flooding his cheeks, he doesn't even realize that the red of his cheeks has become significantly darker.

“Ah, Lucifer stop. You don't even know this woman,” Lucifer mutters in annoyance as he squeezes his own cheeks to stop the warmth before eventually leaving the guest room to continue his usual routine.

He's starting to get worried, the fallen angel that currently resides in his guest room still hasn't woken up. It's been eight days. He spent the entire week checking up on her and continuing to treat her, he admits that this unknown angel's presence did good to his mental health as he was busy worrying for her that he forgets to listen to his intrusive thoughts. “What am I going to do with you?” Lucifer mutters softly as he places his hands above her, hovering over her body as golden hue begins to glow. Slowly and surely healing her.

Aching pain in her muscles is what she felt, slowly regaining consciousness. [Y/n] woke up in an unfamiliar room, oddly reminds her of the rooms that only royalty have. She tried to move her muscles but she could feel it cracking from not moving for a long time. “What happened...?” she asked herself softly, trying to remember what happened. The trial, Sera's anger, Adam being annoying, falling, her wings, then crashing. “Where am I?” she asked herself again, her voice croaking slightly, she slowly moved her body so she could sit on the bed, her eyes wandering everywhere, taking in her surroundings. She noticed that the symbol apple and snake was present on the designs of the tinted windows. The door opens.

Another week has passed, still no sign of her waking up. Lucifer was walking towards the guest room, preparing himself to try to heal her again. He opens the door and he froze to see the fallen angel who's usually lying limp on the bed is now sitting and staring on the window. “You're awake.” he says softly and she turned to look at him, her eyes, it's so beautiful. “Who are you?” she asked him softly and he smiled, “The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.”

[cupidddd-d]

oh heart, and then it falls

in which theodore nott is actually nice to you?

gn reader but it's mentioned that they wear lip gloss !!

"ow, fuck!" you cried out as your potion bubbled over the edge of the cauldron, oozing onto your hand. tears of pain sprung to your eyes, and you could already feel the burns forming underneath the thick sludge sitting on your skin.

"nott, you were supposed to be watching the potion while i wrote notes!" embarrassingly, your voice broke, and you could feel a tear dripping down your face. your notes were ruined, your hand was burnt, you were crying in front of the boy who was most likely to make fun of you for it, and your potion was completely unsalvageable. you may have been hallucinating, but you could have sworn that you could smell burnt flesh.

"huh?" theodore's head jolted up from his conversation with draco. his eyes glanced from your hand to your face, and then back down again. "merlin...we've got to get you to the hospital wing..."

you walked in silence as he led you out of the hospital wing, staring down at where he was applying bandages to your hand. he had poured a numbing potion over the wound, but memories of your previous pain echoed around your body.

"why are you doing this, nott?" your mouth was dry as you stared down at his gentle movements. what happened to the boy who practically fed off of your despair?

"i mean...i'm not a total monster. i don't like you, but it's not like i want you to be hurt." he let out a little scoff, his eyes darting to the side.

"could've fooled me," you rolled your eyes. "remember that time when you pushed my head into the cake on my birthday?" a little smirk was starting to cross your lips.

"that was 9 years ago, and i apologized!" he protested, a matching grin growing on his face.

"only after your mother forced you to," you retorted, rolling your eyes.

"at least i still apologized, right?" he shrugged, giving you a charming, well-practiced smile.

"shame, i still don't accept your apology," you mused.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, letting him fully concentrate on fixing your hand.

"why are you doing this, nott?" you asked again, the question still weighing on your mind. for some reason, his previous answer didn't feel like the full truth. your eyes bore into his, your gaze so beseeching that it makes him divert his attention back to your bandaged hands.

"you know why." he said simply. quietly. his eyes were dark as they flit back to yours.

you inhaled sharply. if he was saying what you think he's saying... "no, i don't." your voice came out trembly and embarrassingly weak, and you kicked yourself mentally.

"i don't really have to spell it out for you, do i?" he was moving closer and closer. "stop me if you don't want this--and you should probably do it now, because i've waited so long for this moment, i think this might be your only opportunity."

his breath was fanning your lips now, his gaze stuck on your parted lips. you leaned in, and that was all it took for him to dive into you. his lips seared into yours, the kiss fervent. his hands were everywhere, cupping your jaw, pulling your waist to bring you closer to him, wrapping in your hair.

your eyes were wide as he pulled back, a smug smirk on his face as he licked his lips. "what is that, cherry flavored lip gloss?"

"nott-" you managed to stutter out.

"come on, darling. after what we just did, i'd expect us to be past the last-name basis." he snickered, leaning down to capture your lips with his once again.