and he's still searching for her

One Hell of a Lucky Guy

Steroline (sort of?) AU future fic - prompt what if Caroline meet one of Stefan’s doppelgangers in the future. Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Chapter 5

It had been about a week since the greenhouse incident and Caroline was still completely spooked, especially after her and Paul had searched the greenhouse inch by inch for any signs of a stray to no avail. Paul tried to convince her that it was probably just a strong draft and that maybe the plant had been too close to the edge of the table but Caroline knew better, she knew it was a sign that she needed to put a stop to this before it went too far.

Keep reading

I’m sorry, but this is complete bullshit. I get censoring out videos that talk about sex and more explicit things - which these restrictions accomplish to some extent - but this does more than just that. 

For example:

  • You know dodie’s “Sick of Losing Soulmates” video? Yeah, the official music video got taken down, but not because of language. The original release of the song on her main channel is still up with the restrictions on.
  • When you look up creators like Connor Franta, Troye Sivan, Hannah Hart, and Tyler Oakley, just to name a few, in the search bar, their channels don’t show up.
  • Mary Lambert’s “She Keeps Me Warm” official video isn’t available. Some videos of her performing it are up, but not the actual music video, a video that has no adult themes. 
  • Evan Edinger’s video on demisexuality isn’t available. Sure, he mentions the word “sex” a few times, but sex ed/human reproductive system videos aren’t down.
  •  MilesChronicles only has eight videos up with the restrictions. All their videos relating to their gender or sexuality don’t appear on their channel.
  • Troye Sivan’s coming out video (2013) isn’t there.
  • All of Melanie Murphy’s videos - except one - where she talks about her bisexuality aren’t available.
  • Only eight of Stevie Boebi’s videos show up on her channel; only one directly relates to being queer, the other is her identity video where “lesbian or bisexual” is in the thumbnail.

Trust me, there are more; you don’t have to look far to find them. But why does it matter? Can’t you just turn off the restrictions? Well yes, if it isn’t locked. YouTube offers an option to lock on Restricted Mode for the browser. A kid who’s trying to figure themself out and is terrified about it won’t have these resources and stories and models to help them if their parent(s) enable this restriction. Their self journey will be so much longer and harder than necessary because of it.

And what about the younger kids. The kids who are in a heavily sheltered environment where the only information they have about being queer is taken-out-of-context Bible verses. They’ll see the very minuscule number of lgbtq+ videos and feel even more isolated and like a pariah.

We need these videos.

Youtube has been a happy place and a space of belonging for me and so many others, we can’t take lose that. @youtube you said you’re proud of representing queer voices, you better fucking mean it.

UPDATE (20/3/17):

As pointed out by Philip DeFranco - amongst others - this is not only an lgbtq+ issue. We should not be viewing this just as *potential* homophobia, but rather marking people who are different from the societal norm as an “other.”

It has been brought to my attention that some videos concerning mental health issues have also been taken down. As @srgtfuckybarnes said, Hannah Hart’s video about living with depression is no longer available with these restrictions.

This is a bigger issue. It takes people who have different thoughts and opinions and placing them in a light that suggests their views are less than. 

I want to make this very, very clear, though: the intent of YouTube isn’t bad. I highly, highly doubt workers at YouTube sat down and at a meeting and said they were going to censor these types of people. That being said, the result/effect is still negative. How it effects people (in this situation) stands out more than whether or not YouTube is trying to separate people as an “other.”

Thank you to everyone (especially @2022hadmefrickinzazzed) for making constant updates to this. That is very much appreciated.

So last night was Food Night. As usual, Penelope was being a butt, but eventually decided that she wasn’t interested in having dinner. So I went to toss the rat in a baggie.

Apparently I got distracted by something in the meantime, cos when I went to bed a few hours later, all my stuff from the shelf over her tank was on the floor, and her tank was empty.


So search the shelves, search the floor, search the drawers. Under the bed, in the hamper, behind the catbox. Still no Penelope. Call my roommates to help me and we flip the bed. Nothing.

Now I was pretty certain she couldn’t have gotten out of the room because the door was shut and there’s no clearance for her to squeeze under, and we were in the living room so there was no way she could wiggle past us.

Commence flipping of the couch and tossing the bathroom anyway.

Just as we’re about to start tossing the guys’ room, one shouts out he’s found her.


had been sitting behind the curtain

watching us look for her ass for over half an hour at 3 in the morning.

Just downright disrespectful.

Keep You Around [P.2] (Newt Scamander x Thunderbird!Reader)

Originally posted by sweetly87

✩ prompt: continuation of p.1 !! thank you guys so much for the support!

✩ word count: ~850

Keep You Around

It had been about three days since Y/N met Newt Scamander, after a freak rainstorm right after they caught Niffler, Y/N brought Newt to her shared apartment. 

Queenie took to him almost immediately, as she does with everyone, although Tina is still warming up the messy-haired man.

Currently, the two, Y/N and Newt, are making their way through the frigid late autumn air, in search of a coffee shop.

“You see-” Newt begins, a mild sort of lopsided smile on his face as his eyes scan the horizon of buildings, “Us Brits normally prefer tea.”

“Maybe so, but,” Y/N’s eyes flit up to his, a grin playing on her lips, “Here in the United States, we’d rather dump tea in the ocean than down our throats.”

He laughs softly, “Touché, touché.”

“What can I say? America is superior to England.” Y/N argues, half-heartedly as she looks for a coffee shop. 

“Ah, maybe you might think that, but I’m doubtful that your country holds the best wizarding school of the entire world?”

“We do! Ilvermorny!” She smiles up at him, laughter behind her eyes.

“N-No!” He laughs gently, “You’re mistaken, for I’m quite positive that Hogwarts is the best school.”

“Hogwarts? Hogwash.” 

Newt shyly hides his smile, looking down at his feet as the two make their way through the crowd. “Y-You’d be a Ravenclaw.”

Y/N looks at him quizzically, “Raven-claw?”

“Its a house, one of the four houses of Hogwarts. I-It represents wit and creativity.” 

“I’m flattered that you think I’d be a Ravenclaw,” She pauses, her E/C eyes meeting his in fleeting, “But I’m a Thunderbird, through and through.”

His eyes widen slightly. “T-Thunderbird?” Then a small smile takes over his face, “Of course you are.”

“Hey-hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Frank is a Thunderbird.”

“Frank? Who is Frank?” Y/N pauses, looking up at him.

“A Thunderbird,” His eyes catch hers as he continues to walk, “A fantastic beast that creates storms when it flies.”

Y/N processes for a second, then, speaking slowly, disbelievingly, “You’ve got a Thunderbird?”

He just gives her a small smile looking down at her. “They’re quite rare, you know.”

Y/N nods frantically, “I’ve never seen one! It’s illegal to keep creatures here, the last of the Thunderbirds were killed off in the War Against Creatures in 1867!” She stares at him, partly out of awe, partly out of curiosity. 

“They’re incredibly rare,” He blushes slightly, “I’m quite lucky to have found two.”

Y/N looks up at him, blushes furiously, and looks back at her feet.

“M-Maybe you’re just good at finding things.”

“Of course I am,” He chuckles light-heartedly, “I was a Hufflepuff.”

Another quizzical look from Y/N.

“Loyal, dedicated, patient, and terribly good finders.”

The two finally stumble upon a small coffee shop, and Y/N helps Newt order his coffee.

He watches attentively as the woman behind the counter pours the cream into his coffee, and Y/N can’t help but study his face. Attempt to count his freckles.

They pay the woman and sit in a small booth by the window.

Newt watches as Y/N takes a sip of her coffee, the wonderful aroma overflowing his senses, watches her wrap her hands around the small porcelain cup, close her eyes in blissful content. Looks at the small smile that plays at the edges of her lips as the woman puts on a record.

He decides to have a try. It’s definitely not like tea, but not a bad sort of different in the least.

“What was Hogwarts like?” She asks, almost shyly, looking up at Newt. And it is in that moment that Newt realizes how small the table is, how close they are.

He blushes slightly, clears his throat, “It was brilliant.”

“Please continue.” She looks up at him, a soft yet expectant expression on her face as she leans slightly closer to him as if listening to a secret. 

He smiles slightly, “The castle itself, it-it’s filled with everything imaginable. Hidden passageways, giant- towering towers, a million books. And one of the best quidditch pitches you could ever possibly think up. Down one of the hills, there’s this forest, T-They call it the Forbidden Forrest, so naturally I-” He stops himself, “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble like that.”

“Oh please ramble.” She scoots slightly closer, eyes brimming with curiosity, “What’s London like?“

“Are you sure you want me to keep talking? Most people find it annoying.”

“I find it rather fascinating.”

“And there’s this sort of creature called a Bowtruckle,” Newt explains as they make their way back to the Goldstein/Grimm apartment, “They’re native to Southern Germany, and are also easily found in Northern England and even sometimes the Scandanavian Forests.”

“What exactly is a bowtruckle?”

“They’re tree-dwellers with brilliantly brown eyes, and this one bowtruckle, called Pickett has got-” He stops himself midsentence, “Pickett!”

“What, Pickett? What’s wrong with Pickett?” Y/N asks, her eyes wide, confused slightly by his sudden change in demeanor.

“Oh Merlin!” He runs a hand through his curly brown hair, “He’s got terrible attachment issues, I really need to visit-”

“Newt,” Y/N says slowly, “What exactly have you got in that case of yours?”

I’m having so much fun w/ this small series!! I hope you’re enjoying :)

summary of homestuck kids in the credits
  • rose: becoming a model troll wife. literaly morphing into troll version of herself.
  • roxy: ambiguously gay queen of derspit after overthrowing the condesce.
  • dirk: still making robots. still getting decapitated. same old dude we always knew
  • jake: has become famous entrepreneur of technology and marshmallow flower crowns
  • jane: has become entrepreneur of baked goods and your soul, possibly
  • kanaya: has discovered earth gay marriage, and also banned candy from the brooding cave.
  • dave: following his dreams and his own footsteps at the same time
  • karkat: has had it up to here with these FFFFFFFFFFUUUUCKING LIBERTIES
  • terezi: hows "heroically scouring black hole debris in search of girlfriend" sound for extra? anyway we love her
  • calliope: HUGS
  • jade: not the cinnamon roll sister john asked for but the cinnamon roll sister he deserves
  • john: deserves a cinnamon roll. help him
just let the waves guide us...

Just some post wedding intimacy on the Jolly Roger, because I just couldn’t help myself and I woke up with a much needed desire to write… 

His dream is like a wave, cresting and crashing as it heads towards the shore, sand and shells churning in its wake but never quite hitting the beach before it recedes. When he wakes, frustration still bubbles at the edges of his consciousness as his fingers dig into the mattress beside him where his new bride should be. He blinks his eyes to adjust to the darkness, the candles he’d scattered around the room after their nuptials now all pools of hardened wax. Pushing back the coverlet, he crosses to an old trunk and pulls out a pair of old linen pants, not wanting to go in search of Emma in his current state of undress.

He finds her quite easily, but allows himself a moment to take her in. The complicated braid she’d worn earlier has fallen loose, allowing golden tendrils to dance in the breeze along with the worn fabric of his sheet she’s wrapped around her like a cloak. She could be mistaken for a spectral, or an angel, some benevolent spirit come to grant his every wish and guarantee a lifetime of happiness.

But something has drawn her from his bed on their wedding night and he aches to soothe whatever might be troubling her mind. So, he crosses to her quietly, making enough noise to be certain she hears his approach. She turns with a smile as he draws near enough to touch, easing a bit of his nerves as he draws his hand around her waist and presses a kiss to her temple.

“Hello, my wife.”

Keep reading

as the elevator door closes, for a moment the chaos surrounding them seems to stop. 

in the flickering light, jyn and cassian search each other’s eyes for comfort.

jyn decides to move closer, her arms now draped around cassian’s neck. he is badly injured. face to face and heart to heart, they both silently contemplate the fate that awaits them. 

cassian draws jyn still closer, they are now just inches apart. flashes of a future together in his mind, alongside the realization that there’s no time for that anymore. jyn gazes back knowingly. they continue to support each other, connected, their hearts beating in sync. both wanting to say so much, but understanding that all they have is this present moment together right now.

maybe that is enough.

i’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad // welcome home

Title: Lost and Found
Fandom: Stranger Things
Word Count: 645
Characters: Jonathan Byers x Reader
Reader Gender: Female
Warnings: A bit NSFW
Notes: Based on this hc from @kurtwxgners

Originally posted by elliotaldersons

Jonathan Byers hadn’t ever been the most organized person, but he did know where all of his things usually were. That was why, after searching through his entire room, he concluded that his favorite shirt had disappeared.

“Mom, have you seen my black t-shirt?” he asked, still frantically looking all over the house.

“No, but you need to just pick something else and go, or both you and Y/N will be late for school,” Joyce answered, hurriedly putting on her shoes and a jacket. With a sigh of frustration, Jonathan returned to his room, threw on a different t-shirt and a jacket, then went out to his car and left.

The drive to his girlfriend’s house was a short one, and he was surprised to find that she wasn’t waiting for him on the porch, as she usually was. He parked in the driveway, then got out and knocked on the front door, despite knowing her parents had most likely already left for work. There was no answer, so he used his spare key to open the door and go inside.

The house was dead silent as Jonathan made his way up to her bedroom, where he knocked again. Still, no answer. Growing a bit worried, he knocked once more, before deciding to just open the door. He was met with a sight he hadn’t anticipated seeing.

Y/N was sound asleep on her bed, wearing nothing but his black t-shirt and a pair of lace panties. She was sprawled out on top of the covers, and the shirt had ridden up, so that it just barely covered her chest. And so help him God, Jonathan couldn’t bring himself to look away from the way the lace clung to her, as if it were a second skin.

After taking a deep breath, Jonathan sat on the edge of the bed, which stirred her enough to wake her up. One eye opened, to see who it was, before she stretched, groaning as her joints popped.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Jonathan teased, despite the fact that he had to actually force himself to be polite and keep his eyes on her face, rather than the bare skin her stretching had revealed. (Although, he did glance once or twice.)

“Morning,” she replied, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. She sat up into a kneeling position, resting her forehead on Jonathan’s shoulder sleepily.

“Ya know, I was looking for this,” he commented, tugging lightly on the black material of the shirt. She was silent for a moment, before raising her head and looking at him with a smirk.

“Want it back?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Jonathan replied, laughing a bit. “It’s my favorite shirt. But I’ll give you another, if you want.”

“Okay,” Y/N said simply, then leaned back on her hands, still smirking. “Take it, then.”

Jonathan nearly choked, realizing what she was insinuating.

“I… uh… you… we should… we should head to school….”

“We’re late already. And we’re both good students, it’s not as if they’ll interrogate us or anything. We’ll just say your car broke down on the way. Plus, my parents are already gone….”

He knew he wasn’t breathing, and it didn’t help that he allowed his gaze to fall from her face, down her body, to the skin peeking out from the bottom of the shirt as she leaned back, to the lace of her underwear….

“Oh, screw it,” Jonathan whispered, mostly to himself, before practically lunging at her, taking her face in his hands and using his body to push her down against the bed. Y/N’s legs instantaneously wrapped around him, pulling him even closer to her.

No one believed the two when they said they had car trouble, on account of the fact that when they arrived at school, Jonathan’s shirt was backwards, his hair was a mess, and he couldn’t stop grinning.

@shayara  @jxbilationlee  @hankmyhusband (I don’t remember who likes him and who doesn’t lmao ignore me if you are among the latter.)

Search for Loneliness Part2

Hi people! This is part two to the one shot called Search for Loneliness which is the first one on my blog. I think you can read this even if you haven’t read part1 and still get the plot. Hope you enjoy! 
Huge thanks to the person who requested Part1 and to my friend @interfectorems for the patience and help!

Plot: Harry broke Y/N’s heart. But how come he misses her now?

Warnings: May hint on sex and includes curse words. 

Pic isn’t mine. 

Harry was awoken by soft kisses being peppered across the warm skin of his shoulder and a low groan fell from his mouth. Images of a girl flashed before his eyes and a lazy smile forced its way onto his face, happiness flooding through his entire body.
She was here.
Y/N’s smooth fingertips were drawing over his tattoos and Harry took a deep breath, wanting to fill all his senses with her, all of what was her. His muscles relaxed beneath her soft touches and his heart thumbed heavenly full with emotion in his chest. Y/N had come back to him. Or maybe it was him who’d never left? Or…
Strange. She smelled differently than he remembered. And her hair was softer. In fact, now that he thought about it, the tender touches he was receiving could in no way be coming from his Y/N. Y/N hadn’t ever drawn over his tattoos, but rather along them, touching his bare, uncovered skin rather than the inked one. It was only a faint difference, but the moment he started paying attention to it he couldn’t ignore how drastically wrong this felt.
His heart fell and his stomach knotted. There was still the same distance between Y/N and him as there had been last night. And the day before. The week.
Harry rolled onto his side, successfully disconnecting the foreign girl’s touch from his body without even looking at her and got to his feet so quickly his head felt dizzy.

“Breakfast?” his raspy voice muttered, but he was out of the bedroom before his visitor could complain about his unfriendly manners or give an answer to his question.


“Yes, Gem, I’m aware of that.” Harry rolled his eyes at his sister’s lectures about how he’d missed another family dinner and pressed the phone closer to his ear. “It must have slipped my mind. M'sorry.”

“You seem to have very little room in that mind of yours lately,” his sister remarked, “We’ve all seen what might be occupying all the space. How is you’re new mysterious women doing?”

“S'no mystery,” he replied slowly, “And s'not very serious.”

She hummed, indicating that she clearly didn’t buy it. “When did you decide Y/N was to be out of the picture?”

Harry huffed in annoyance. In moments like this he regretted ever bringing Y/N around to meet his family. If he hadn’t done that they surely wouldn’t be bothering him about her anymore.

“I had my reasons so don’t even start.”

A loud, exaggerated sigh was heard, yet she remained silent. Gemma knew her brother well enough to sense when it was best to leave him alone. She also knew when he’d spill what she wanted to hear without needing to be pushed.

“She was just… not right, you know?” he admitted.

“How so?”

Harry shrugged even though she couldn’t see, his fingers nervously switched on the tap, allowing clear water into the sink. Switch on. Switch off.  

“She couldn’t accept my life”, he explained, careful to choose his words wisely, “There were many little things she did which clearly showed how little she understood about my lifestyle and there were bigger ones. I once asked her to come to dinner with me and Kendall and she said no, not because of my past relations with her, but because she didn’t want to get into a situation where she’d be filmed for a TV show. Or because there would have been too many paps around. Same went for any other time I wanted her to meet someone remotely famous and at some point all the arguments became too much. Is adapting to my standards really too much to ask? She couldn’t just expect me to change for her or to not go out for dinner every week anymore.”

Silence. One that told him enough.

“What?” he asked annoyed.

“Why do you think I didn’t come to that yacht you rented a couple of years ago?” Gemma giggled. “I met Kendall and she’s actually quite lovely, but her presence does mean a massive amount of cameras. So do all of your other friends. I’ve got sort of used to it over the years and still hate it, so I can understand if a girl with even less experience feels frightened or intimidated by it. Just my opinion, little brother. Maybe you could have solved that issue by simply giving her more time.”

Harry swallowed hard and processed his sister’s words. More time? But weren’t five months enough to come out of your shell if that’s what your boyfriend expects of you?

Gemma went on: “If you feel happier now then I’m on your side, promise. But you need to make an effort, too, Harry. If any relationship of yours should ever lead to something, you have to get used to the thought of making an effort yourself and not just expecting the girl to do all the work.”


Harry scrolled through her Twitter page and it was strangely empty. The last phrases she’d tweeted had been posted weeks ago. Not even her favorites showed any activity and though Y/N hadn’t exactly visited her Social Media every day, this absence did appear odd. Harry couldn’t admit it to himself, but he did miss knowing what she was up to. Had she experimented with a new recipe? Had she gone to the cafe in north London she’d always wanted to visit? Had she managed to get a ticket for that gig one of her favorite musicians  had held last week? He wished he could ask her.
Deciding that this wouldn’t provide any of the desired information, Harry closed the app with a sigh and instead found himself opening the familiar app of his photo folder.
This images weren’t new, but familiar and this was something he desired just as much; the familiarity Y/N had posed that was now lost. Harry stared at the photos and was surprised how every detail of her face was still engraved into his memory, just like any face of a person he cared about was. Only that he shouldn’t feel that way for her anymore. He didn’t have the right to.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was soft and sweet and yet Harry flinched at the unexpected noise. Mia… Maya… Harry wasn’t sure which name it was exactly but after she’d stayed over for three days now he figured asking would be rude. He shut off his device and let it drop onto the coffee table before him, doing his best to appear relaxed.

“Nothing really.”

His new girl smiled and stepped closer. She was pretty. Her hair fell in long waves just below her waist and her wide eyes sparkled with a friendly curiosity for what he was up to, thought or felt. A curiosity he’d known when he had himself began developing feelings for Y/N and now was all he needed to recognize the condition the girl before him was in. She would fall for him. Soon.
Harry didn’t tense when she stepped closer and instead held out a hand for her to take, giving it a slight tug so she would swing one leg over his lap and climb up.
Harry granted her a gentle smile when he had her sitting in his lap with both slender arms wrapped around his neck, his own hands pressing against her smooth back. Maybe if she’d fall for him, he would find the perfect companion he had been dreaming for. The one Y/N had failed to be.

“Are you okay?” Mia or Maya asked with a small frown between her perfectly plucked brows.

Harry just nodded, his throat too dry to answer. Her smell invaded his senses and the sweetness of her perfume clouded his mind. His girlfriend, if that’s what she could be called, smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth, expecting it to be a short one and finding herself surprised when Harry’s tongue pushed between her lips and dipped into her mouth. One of his hands moved up to press against the back of her head, keeping her from moving back while his fingers pulled at her top with a feverish desire to tore it away. A small laugh fell from her soft lips and she disconnected their kiss in order to oblige his wish and undress. Once off, she leaned in and pressed tender kisses to the side of his neck, sighing whenever his hands moved over the uncovered skin of her body.
Harry’s mind raced and his heart thumbed heavily in his chest. His lower stomach ached and his thighs felt pleasantly tingly. Soft hair brushed over his skin, warm lips placed gentle kisses and delicate hands left faint scratches on his back and stomach. He allowed his head to roll back and his eyes to fall shut.


The name left his mouth in a breathy gasp and it took the girl he was holding to shrug off his embrace before he could realize what he’d done wrong. Hurt evident in her eyes she stumbled to her feet and bent down to gather her shirt, covering her naked torso with hastily moving and shaking fingers.
Harry’s stomach turned and he shook his head, an exhausted huff leaving his mouth.
Why wouldn’t Y/N leave him alone? Even when she was miles away she could torment him like no one else ever had.
Words were shouted, but he took it with no fight and instead stayed sat in his chair as the girl before him began to cry and shake, receiving no words from him to mend her heart ache. At some point he thought she’d slapped him, his cheek, previously kissed by the same person now red and stinging. But he wasn’t sure and only noticed his guest had left when the door fell into its lock with a loud noise.


He had to call her. Y/N hadn’t left his mind in days and frankly he was quite sick of it. So many ordinary tasks had been ruined by her messing with his head. Nervousness made his heart skip and press the phone just a little closer to his ear, waiting impatiently for Y/N to pick up.


Her voice. His eyes fell shut when he heard it and his fingers tingled. She sounded calm and collected, not angry at all.
Harry cleared his throat.


Silence. He heard Y/N take in a breath. “I’m sorry, but who’s this?”

A frown took over his forehead until it dawned on him. She couldn’t have known it was Harry, he realized. In order to keep any woman he was involved with from having his private number he had it blocked at all times. He could call and text them without any of them getting his contact info. It was an old habit he’d broken for Y/N and quickly picked back up once he’d broken up with her.

“Harry,” He clarified, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Forgot about me already, have you?”

The silence following his words was nothing like the one earlier. It was as if the connection had died and Harry quickly checked to see if she’d actually ended it or not. Harry’s feet shifted and sighed.

“Y/N?” he pressed on carefully.


It was a whisper, exhausted and empty.
Harry’s heart squeezed painfully tight and he brushed the sweaty palm of his free hand against his jeans. So she really wasn’t angry, but hurt.

“Listen,” he began, “I-”

But he was already interrupted by the dreadful peeping noise and this time once he looked at his phone, her name had vanished.


His head hung low and his hands were balled into fists. Just one knock, that’s all he had to force himself to and from there she would take the lead. Every time Harry had had a problem it was her who knew just how to solve it, why should it be different now? All she’d need is him who came back long enough for her to help.
With a deep breath Harry raised his hand and let his knuckles meet the door twice. A shudder ran down his back and his throat went dry.
What would he do? What would he say?

I know I was an asshole but I flew all the way back to LA for you so please forgive me?
I can’t explain it, but I miss you.
You haven’t left my mind in weeks, no matter how much I tried.

He couldn’t blame her should she shut the door right into his face if he dared bringing any of those weak excuses. His trail of thoughts was interrupted by the wooden door opening just a slim gap, allowing the person inside to see who it was interrupting their evening.
Harry braced himself, his heart skipping in his chest and he looked up eagerly to see the face he’d missed so much more he could have been prepared for.
But it wasn’t Y/N.


Harry cleared his throat as the unexpected sight of Y/N’s friend threw him off guard. She narrowed her eyes once she realized it was in fact him and she opened the door wider, keeping hold of it to block him from entering.

“I knew you’d miss her,” she spoke, her voice nothing but unkind and empty of sympathy, “She is too good for you and I just knew you’d end up at her door once you realized that no girl you’d try replacing her with would compare.”

“Is she here?” Harry asked, ignoring the sting in his chest caused by her harsh words.
They were true in every way but his pride wasn’t going to just let him admit that.

“Yes,” Mary replied.

He paused, expecting her to say something more but she just continued to stare at him with venomous eyes.

“I need to see her,” he elaborated and took a step forward.

The gap quickly narrowed, but to his surprise Mary nodded. “The moment she calls for me to drag you back outside, I will.”

Harry nodded and pushed past Mary, entering the familiar space. He could still feel her enraged gaze on his back as his own eyes scanned the living room in search for his ex girlfriend, but she was no where.

“She’s in the bedroom.”

He uttered a thanks to the woman eyeing him and with weak knees he walked down the familiar hall and to the closed door or her bedroom, his heavy heart dropping to his stomach. He’d stood here so many times before.
Sometimes with flowers in his hands to surprise her just because she was as lovely as they were. On other days, mainly morning, he would take a moment to prepare for seeing her barely dressed and in her bed, his fingers tightening around the cups of coffee or the bag of breakfast he had gone to pick up.
Of course he also recalled the many nights where he’d stood right here, with her in his arms or hoisted up and pressed against the wood.
Never before had he stood here with fear rushing through his veins. It’d been him who’d rejected her, but he couldn’t imagine handling the situation if their roles were reversed. He was certain he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Then he heard it. At first only faintly, then clear and loud enough for his heart to break.

Whimpers. Cries. Sobs.

Her face when it had finally dawned on her that he was leaving her had been a picture he’d replayed in his head over the past weeks.
His ears still rang with her cries and his eyes burned at the memory of her soft lips parting to beg him to stay with her.
And still, he hadn’t realized just how much he’d harmed her until now that he could hear her heartbreak through the thick wood of her door.
His hands pushed down the handle before he had thought twice about it and he rushed into the room. He could have sworn his soul crumbled at the sight of Y/N curled up in her bed, a thin blanked shielding her shivering body from the cold while she cried and sobbed into her pillow. Her arms were wrapped around the fluffy material and her head buried into it so Harry couldn’t see her face. Harry wasn’t sure if she’d even noticed his presence or not but he didn’t care.
Before Y/N could protest or really understand what was going on, he’d discarded his shoes and climbed up behind her. Both of his arms found their familiar hold around her waist and he felt tears shoot to his eyes when he finally buried his head into her neck, breathing in her comforting scent. His legs pushed hers apart before intertwining with them and so Y/N soon was cuddled into and against Harry, closer and tighter than she’d ever been before.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry breathed against her skin, “I love you.”

Not for a moment did he hope she might have missed the confession that had slipped his lips before he could stop it. Though Harry hadn’t thought about it before, hadn’t come to any conclusion and sure as hell hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, he realized it was true. He did love Y/N and any reason he’d dug up to break up with her had been for the sole purpose of stopping him from falling deeper.
But he loved her. And this time he wouldn’t leave.

“Forgive me,” he continued, his own voice breaking as his eyes stung with tears.

Y/N’s body was stiff aside form the occasional shakes by her crying and she did nothing to return his embrace. But she didn’t push him away either and this allowed him to hope.
His lips found her neck and he sobbed when happiness flooded his body, his skin tingling with the relief of finally having her close enough to touch again.

“This time will be different,” he promised against her before pressing another tender kiss to her skin, “I promise you, Y/N.”

And so they lay, on the very bed Harry had broken her heart on all those weeks ago. He thought it fitting that it was here he doing his best to mend it again.
But although he held her, breathed her in and murmured promises of how much he regretted it all, Harry continued to fail to understand just how deep his betrayal had cut and so he didn’t know that all Y/N’s head was screaming for was for him to disappear, even if her arms were too weak to push him off and her voice too thin to send him away.


When Harry awoke he was alone.
His hands didn’t need to pat the mattress in search for her, his entire body could feel her absence without having opened his eyes to confirm it. He felt cold.
He crawled out of bed with a groan and stretched his limps before walking gingerly to the closed door, down the hall and into the kitchen. His hands clenched and his heart skipped widely in his chest, nervous of what was going to happen next.
Y/N was standing with her back to him when he entered the small space of her kitchen and for a moment Harry considered sneaking up on her and wrapping her into an embrace, just like he’d done many times before. She turned around to face him before he got the chance.
Y/N’s eyes met his and he froze. Her gaze wasn’t anything like the loving and warm one he’d expected to receive. Instead, her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, proving just how much she’d cried last night, if not many more nights before that.
Her lips were bitten and dry, her hair appeared to be mat and when she raised her mug to her lips to drink he noticed how her hand was shaking.

“Did you sleep okay?”

It was a stupid question, he knew that even before he’d asked it, but he couldn’t think of anything else he could say. The girl before him looked nothing like the Y/N he knew.

“Can’t say I did.”

Not even her voice sounded the same, he noticed with a sinking heart.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, unsure to which one of his many mistakes the apology applied for.

“Breakfast is in the fridge,” Y/N spoke without reacting to his words.

They ate in silence, Harry sitting on the table and Y/N leaning against the counter. He watched her hand trembling slightly whenever she raise the spoon full of cereal to her mouth and he needed to focus on his own fingers to keep them from shaking too.
Once they had both finished Y/N turned to wash her bowl clean, but flinched away from the water when Harry stepped close to do the same.

“Y/N,” he sighed, set down the ceramic he was holding, before leaning against the counter himself. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Y/N answered quietly, “Other than  that I think you should leave.”

Her eyes refused to meet his and instead focused onto the floor. A frown took over his face.

“Leave?” He shook his head.


“But Y/N,” he protested, “we made up. Last night when I climbed into your bed… we made up, didn’t we? Said I was sorry and promised to be different now…We made up.”

Though he’d wished to have her look him in the eyes again, the moment she did, he regretted it. Her orbs were cold and empty of any kindness.

“Because you climbed into my bed as I was crying?” The raw emotion in her voice knocked the breath right out of him. “You think that’s all it took?”

“I-” Harry began, but was interrupted.

“Surely you must know that it was you who’d made me cry last night. It’s been you every night for the past weeks.”

He swallowed hard and his stomach was in knots as he watched her turn around and exit the kitchen. Though he was worried about what would happen next, he followed her into the living room, this time aware of her resentment towards him and so he didn’t try and sit close to her again once she lowered herself onto the couch. Harry took a seat on one of her chairs and watched her warily, unsure if she wanted him to speak or had something to say herself. After a moment of silence he took a breath.

“I swear to you,” he began, “that me breaking up with you was in no way your fault. I know I made you feel as though it was, but it wasn’t. All you did was caring for me so much more than I’d imagined someone could and I fucked it all up simply because I didn’t know how to deal with that.”

“I didn’t think somebody caring for you would pose such a problem to you.”

“It didn’t,” Harry quickly argued, “Not a problem, but something that scared me. I didn’t want you to realize that I didn’t deserve you.”

Y/N laughed. “That’s bullshit. You wished that was why you broke up with me but we both know it isn’t.”

Harry fell silent. The girl before him shook her head and let her gaze wonder to the window, appearing deep in thought for a moment.

“I have spent every minute of every day since you abandoned me with ways of making sense of it. Do you realize that? While you were fucking her, I was sitting here wondering what I’d done to be thrown to the side like a plaything you decided you didn’t want anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Harry protested before he could stop himself, “I saw you with that man at the shops. I did nothing with anyone until I saw those pictures!”

“Oh, I’ve seen those photos, too,” Y/N spoke, her voice raising, “And you, of all people, should know that the media can make anything into a story! It was a guy who’d accidentally bumped into me and asked if I was alright. Nothing more.”


“And what about you?” she continued “Did you also just happen to fall into that woman’s arms and did your mouths meet completely by chance? Did she stumble into your bed and you just coincidentally happened to be naked?”


“Why? Don’t you want to think about her?”

“No,” he murmured, his eyes suddenly wet with tears.

Y/N swallowed hard and though it wasn’t easy for her to see the man she loved tormented, she had to admit that with every word she spoke, another weight was lifted off her chest.

“I’m not the first,” Y/N began, her tone gentler, “That’s what saddens me, too, though it saddens me more for you than it does for me. Tell me, what is the girl’s name? The one you left behind now so you could come to me.”

Harry froze. He looked at Y/N and if he wasn’t mistaken he recognized a hint of pity in her eyes. Not pity for herself, but for him.

“Do you not know? It’s Moira.”

Moira. Harry’s mind raced. Not Mia. Or Maya. Moira.

“I saw it in every picture that was posted online. She was like me, looked at you just the same. Are you aware that you broke her heart just the same you have broken mine?”

No, Harry thought, he couldn’t have.

“And what is the girl’s name you left before you first met me? And the girl before that and the girl before that? You have left so many people in the past few years there is a trail of heartbreak behind you and to this day you have remained completely unaware of it.”

Y/N’s cheeks were wet but her voice didn’t tremble.

“It isn’t the same,” Harry spoke, his voice hoarse, “you’re the only one I want, Y/N. We laster five months, that’s worth so much more than any fling I might have had before you.”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall into his palms.

“They meant nothing,” he swore, “and Moira,” he swallowed hard, “was only a distraction from you.”

“You said I wasn’t what you wanted,”  Y/N continued, “I assume you told all of them the same. You’ve let so many people down all because you selfishly chase a romanticized picture of a relationship you have in your head.”

“I’ll change,” Harry weeped against his palms, “From now on it’ll be only you. I don’t need any imagination of a relationship. I want what was real. Want it with you.”

He removed his palms form his face and got to his feet. He noticed her body tense when he neared but she didn’t move away, not even when he dropped to his knees before her.

“I’m in love with you.”

She shook her head. “Don’t,” she whispered and this time she allowed him to see her tears fall from her eyes, “don’t say that only because you’re scared.”

“I’m not,” Harry whispered, “It’s the truth, that’s why.”

Y/N didn’t flinch when he reached for her hands and his heart squeezed when she didn’t pull away.

“I am scared,” he continued, “How couldn’t I be? Your rejection would break my heart and I don’t know how I’d live with the knowledge that it is my fault that I lost you? But I’m not scared of being alone anymore, not enough to throw myself into random relationships like you were right, I have done all this time. I want you or nothing at all, Y/N. I love you.”

He watched her sob and squeezed her fingers with his gently, appreciating any skin touched by her warm tips. This small touches, the reluctant squeeze and tiny movements, meant so much more than the physical contact he’d graved and taken last night. He’d held her, kissed her, breathed her in. But this was voluntarily. She was holding his hands because she wanted to.
He could have rejoiced.  
When her body fell forward and into his open arms, he didn’t know for sure if it was because she wanted it or just her body giving out, finally surrendering to the weight of her emotions.
He cried out when her arms settled around his neck and his heart broke when he felt her kiss his neck. After all this time, he could breathe again.

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“I’ll fix this,” he promised, “Everything. I’ll call and apologize to every woman I hurt in the past. You are right, always are, and I should apologize to them for my selfish actions. But you and I are different, Y/N. We’re real and I won’t let my stupid imagination ruin anything again. I don’t want the classic perfect. I want our perfect.”

She sobbed and held onto him tighter. Harry fell back to sit on the floor and a relieved laugh tumbled from his mouth when she followed to sit in his lap, both legs now wrapped around his waist.

“I love you,” he whispered against the shell of her ear.

He groaned when her small hands pulled at the strands of hair at the back of his neck, but obeyed and moved his head back so his eyes could meet hers. Her beautiful orbs were full of the loving care he’d missed so much and he felt another wave of tears rush to his own eyes.
For a moment she just looked at him, the man she’d given her heart to, who’d then broken it and now promised to mend it again. Harry.

“It’ll take time,” she murmured shyly and he nodded without hesitating, “but I think we’ve got enough of it.”

A smile danced on his mouth and his eyes closed when her soft lips met his in a tender kiss. He had her back, he thought, his heart full of joy and he wouldn’t ever be reckless enough to let her go again.

Thank you for reading this!! Hope you liked it. 
Rest of what I wrote can be found here:

Magnus Bane loves Alexander Lightwood, and would run into a building when there’s a high possibility of him dying because of this. He is nearly 400 years old, has been hurt, heartbroken and still gives him his heart, because he’s “unlocked something in him”and the fear of losing him is too great

Alexander Lightwood loves Magnus Bane and searched for him the entire night hoping and praying he wouldn’t be one of the dead, because he had never felt that kind of fear before. He would stand up to his mother to show her that “this, us, it’s not going away”

This couple, this love, will be the death of me… That is all. 

Is no one going to talk about how Ahsoka novel revealed us so much more depth in The Wrong Jedi arc??? 

it literally was said that Ahsoka got real trust issues when she was young. The effect of false jedi showing up to take her when she was little, affected her a lot, that even after years it was still hard for her to trust anyone or to decide WHO to trust. 

Even when she was searching for her first cyber crystal, her test was to gain  trust. She had to finally trust in the force to move forward. And she did. 

And in The Wrong Jedi arc her weakness was literally triggered. And we see clearly that this is her weak spot. And I like to think that Anakin knew about this. I mean they shared a unique bond so he must had known. And this would explain his reactions in that arc. Despite that his padawan was being chased by their own, this distrust and false accusation was effecting Ahsoka so much more than it would anyone else. And Anakin couldn’t do anything about it, but to prove her that there is still someone she can trust. That there still was someone by her side. And it was him - Anakin.   

And the depth of their conversation in the tubes just before Ahsoka jumped down with this new reveal is overhelming. 

Also all of this lets us understand Ahsoka leaving the order so much more better.


Okay this was initially a response to an anti in the stydia tag, but apparently they blocked me or blocked me from the post??? I don’t know, I can’t reblog it anymore. But I wanted to share it here because I feel really strongly about it. 

This person said that Stydia has no development and it makes Lydia regress as a character and they were complaining about her crying over Stiles. So here is what I have to say to that:


Literally Stydia is all about Lydia, and Stiles helping her grow into the person she is now. He helped her go from the stereotypical popular ice queen to the kind and courageous woman we have in season 6.

She is still independent. Possibly even more so than in season 5. She is puling her own weight and more, she’s pulling Stiles’s weight because he is gone. She is a leader now. She is the head of the search for Stiles. She is fighting for what she loves. She is the driving force of this season.

She has only cried twice this season. Twice. Once when Stiles was literally ripped from her grasp by the ghost riders and once when she was consumed by loss, frustration and hopelessness. She was so sure, yet everywhere she turned people were telling her she was wrong, and she felt like she was going crazy. She’s allowed to cry about that. And honestly tell me you wouldn’t cry if you were her. If you had lost the person you loved? The person who was your rock? The person who helped you become the person you are? The person who always believed in you when no one else did?

Lydia is everything. She is fierce, she is fearless, she is smart, she is tough, she is kind, she is brave, she is so much more than who she is in a relationship with. She is everything with or without Stiles, and just because it is in fact going to be with Stiles, doesn’t give you the right to disregard everything she’s gone through and everything she’s done to be who she is, saying she’s regressing just because she’s finally letting herself be vulnerable and letting those walls down.

She is not weak.

She is arguably the strongest damn character on this show.

Now I’m not going to argue with you about this, about how exactly Stydia developed because I already gave examples which you dismissed because you ignored the narrative arc. But please don’t ever insult Lydia’s development and strength again.

Lydia Martin is everything.

Anon asked: OH I have a good one. How about sebby coming back to find that his s/o and ciel have fallen asleep together (like siblings) and ciel just buries himself into all of seb’s s/o ’s chubby warmth :3c

Originally posted by stay-mad1

He knew they kept each other company while he was busy with the vast list of chores that needed to be done around the estate. His (y/n) has really kept the young master occupied and his nightmares have decreased all thanks to her. 

The demon was still perplexed as to how he came to care the supple human. He always thought he has incapable of love, but with (y/n), that whole scenario changed and for once in his demonic life, he was actually thankful for something. 

He was thankful for you. As ironic  as it is to say, you were his light in many ways and he adored you as did everyone in the mansion. You kept everyone grounded and that’s what they needed.

Sebastian ascended the grand staircase as he searched for his beloved and the young master. 

He checked all of the places they would usually frequent, but came up with nothing. Sebastian knew they wouldn’t be in the office, that left the young master’s bedroom.

Opening the door, he slipped into the quiet room and glanced over to the bed. A small smile graced his lips as he saw the scene before him.

Walking closer to the bed, the sight would’ve - dare he say - warmed his heart, You were on your side, your plush hips on display and the blouse you were wearing was riding up a bit showing a sliver of your skin.

Sebastian gently ran his hand down your back, over the curves and rolls that adorned it. He adored your body, the softness that covered you, the way his fingers would sink into your flesh. The very thought riled him up a bit.

Right now though, you were cute the way you slept. One hand under the pillow and the other wrapped around Ciel who was practically curled into your form. His head on your chest using it as a pillow of his own and his hands were placed softly on your stomach.

Sebastian gave a soft sigh and decided not to disturb the both of you. Instead, decided to start dinner preparations and let the both of you enjoy a bit of bliss for a little while.


A/N: Writing in the dead of night. I loved the panels of Gray and Juvia lying beside each other in this chapter (even if they’re unconscious xD)…so here’s my take on Gray’s feelings if he wakes up first, before her.

Words: 479

Gruvia drabble, based on ch. 510

The last thing he’d caught sight of before slipping into unconsciousness was Juvia.

The first thing his eyes searched for when he woke up was the very same person.

Gray sat up abruptly, his heart quickening its pace in his chest as he recalled the last few moments before he’d drifted away into darkness. He had heard her voice; he was certain of it, and sure enough, when he turned around, she was stood in front of him—battered, bruised, but very much alive.

Just the sight had left his mind blank of all things except her. Completely weak at the knees, he’d fallen to the ground.

Now, he looked down at her sleeping figure uncertainly. She was beside him, her face turned towards his—peaceful, wisps of blue covering her cheek, falling over her closed eyes.

But that image from just hours ago had burned itself into his mind—of her lying motionless on the icy ground, her blood pluming into the snow around them, like ruptured roses from the garden they’d once grown together with such care.

Blood had continued to surge through his veins. He didn’t understand how he was alive, why he was alive. His heart lurched in his chest—not from one of her smiles, but instead from the cold dread seeping into his bones tied with the fear of losing yet another loved one.

The sobs that had followed were enough to make his whole form tremble, though this time, she hadn’t been the one to hold him close like she once did. Instead, he pulled her into his arms for what he thought would be the last time and screamed her name into the skies.

Yet somehow, after all that, she was right here. Just as always, by his side.

With each breath he took, the dead weight that had settled itself on his shoulders began to slowly lift away. The terrible ache that had been gnawing at his ribs and tearing at his heart finally subsided, a wave of relief crashing over him instead, which he couldn’t help but welcome.

Gently, Gray leaned forward, stretching out his fingers to brush the stray strands away from her face, eyes following the curves and angles of her features as if recalling every little detail. He thumbed a lock of her hair, twisting it around his finger before letting it fall back into place over her chest which continued to rise and fall evenly, as though nothing had ever happened—as though all this time, she’d been peacefully sleeping, as real and wonderfully alive as can be.

He didn’t say anything—the words escaped him. 

For the third time that day, he cried, raking a hand through his hair and tilting his head up to look through the cracks in the ceiling.

He couldn’t see much through the grime and vines, but he knew that outside, the sky was clear now; a perfect uninterrupted blue.

#she looks pocket sized in the first pic, #like she can fit in her backpack (@chatstronaut)

bye now i’m imagining alix hiding in small spaces waiting to scare people like

kim goes to the bathroom and while he’s gone she clears out his backpack and climbs inside. the rest of the class hides his stuff and zips it up and then mylene asks for an extra pencil and he nearly shits himself

she visits her dad’s office at the museum and notices he brought one of those rolling cases for his paperwork. most of it is already on the desk so she hides in it and there’s still enough room for her use her phone so she chills for like two hours until it’s time for him to go home and he’s freaking out because he can’t find her and he has security search the exhibits and she just pops out like “oh hey dad ready to go”

He'll Lead You Astray... [Rick Grimes x Reader] SMUT

~ Imagine when Rick gets jealous of Spencer, and decides to mark his territory ~




I hate him. He’s always following her around like some kind of dog. I never had a problem with Spencer when we first came here to Alexandria, but as soon as he started giving Y/N those looks it started to bother me. I’ve never told her this, she has no idea how I feel about her. I’ve tried to drop hints but she never realises. She’s probably still convinced that I’m hung up on Lori and her death, but how will I ever get over it if I can’t get anyone else?


I’ve tried to show Y/N that I have feelings for her by helping her do simple things and bringing her special items back from runs. I once spent a whole day searching for her favourite candy and finally found some, and when I brought it back she was the happiest I had ever seen her. But she still didn’t see it as a romantic gesture! I felt extremely warm inside when she pulled me close with gratitude, hugging me and thanking me repeatedly for the ‘friendly gesture’ as she described it. Little did she know, I was trying to imply that I put more effort in for her because she’s special to me. I know I should just tell her straight, I’m treating the situation like a teenager but I can’t bear to tell her in case she’s completely put off by it and doesn’t know what to say back to me if the feelings aren’t reciprocated…


I woke that morning and got ready to go on my rounds and check everyone was okay. Carl was sat on the porch, cradling Judith with Michonne and Carol sat beside him. I said good morning to them all, giving Carl a loving pat on the shoulder as I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Judith’s cheek.


I went around most of the houses making sure everyone was still here and safe. I spotted Sasha and Abraham on watch and waved over to them. Maggie and Glenn were stood beside the crops as Maggie dug holes and Glenn moved some crates around. I shouted a quick hello to them also.


My final stop was near Daryl, where he sat and polished his motorcycle. I strolled over and sat beside him, nudging him to get his attention. “Morning,” I smiled. He nodded, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and offering me one. I shook my head as he lit his own and continued to assess the condition of the motorcycle, “Have you seen Y/N this morning?” I asked. He dropped his cloth after wiping around the tyre, removing the cigarette from his mouth and tapping ash from it onto the ground.


“She was with Spencer again…” He said, and I felt my muscles immediately tense up from my head to my toes. Daryl noticed this as he frowned and tilted his head, looking me up and down, “Rick, what’s up?”


“Nothing… I’ll see you later.” I rushed, standing up and running to Spencer’s house. I swear if they’ve gone out on a run or something without consulting me first I won’t be happy. Of course I won’t blame Y/N, it’d probably be his idea anyway seeing as he thinks he has authority here when he’s one of the weakest. (I’m not being mean, I’m just stating fact!)


I knocked on the door and waited for a while, tapping my foot irritably as I looked through the window. The curtains were drawn so I couldn’t see anything. I knocked again, yelling Spencer’s name, kicking the bottom of the door. I gave up, turned around, and stormed towards the gates. “Sasha, where’s Spencer?” I asked, stopping with my hands on my hips. She looked down at me from the watch tower and shrugged. Abraham looked at me too, and pointed towards the armoury. I nodded a thank you and practically sprinted towards it.


I burst inside and found Spencer looking at the guns, his hand gracing over one. “What are you doing?” I asked abruptly, causing him to turn around in shock.


“Rick! W… Where did you come from?” He stuttered, folding his arms. I wanted to lunge forward and punch him right there and then, pin him to the ground and show him that I saw Y/N first and she belongs to me!


“Spencer where’s Y/N?”


“I… I haven’t seen her today. Why?”


“That’s funny, because you’ve been seen with her this morning so don’t try to lie to me. Where is she?”


“Is she in trouble or something?”


Trouble… The only one who’s gonna be in trouble is you.”


The door suddenly swung open and I spun around in my place. Y/N walked in with wet hair and clean clothes on, and a beautiful fresh scent was welcomed into the room. She looked at Spencer with a blank expression, then back at me. “What’s going on here?” She asked, approaching me and placing a hand on my shoulder, “Rick, you look…”


“Come with me.” I said quietly, grabbing her arm and dragging her outside with me. I paced it towards her house, pulling her behind me. She didn’t once fight. She just tagged along, allowing me to lead the way. Once we got inside and she closed the door, I barricaded her in with my arms. She leant against the door and I stood in front of her, my arms at either sides of her head pressed on the wall. I looked down at her, and she gave me a look that showed fear, but dare I say also a hint of lust? Is she enjoying this?


“Rick, wh -”


“I don’t like you hanging out with Spencer.” I blurted out, wanting to mentally kick myself as soon as I spoke. She looked at me strangely, furrowing her brows in total confusion. What isn’t she understanding here?!


“Why not?”


“Don’t you see it… He follows you around like a lovesick puppy. How do you deal with that?” I chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood a little. Her face didn’t alter, she kept giving me the same look throughout, “Come on Y/N…”


“What is your problem with Spencer?!” She snapped, ducking underneath my arms and walking past me. I grunted in defeat, as I followed her to the kitchen. I stood with my hands on the edge of the counter, gripping onto it to refrain myself from lashing out over Spencer, and why she doesn’t realise he’s like her shadow and never leaves her alone. I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up at the door yet to ask why we left in a hurry.


“I don’t have a problem!”


“Then what is it Rick? I always see you scowling at him from afar, and don’t deny it. You’re always having little digs at him, whether it’s a harmless joke or whether you’re completely insulting him… What’s the issue?”


I walked over to her, taking her hands in mine and looking her dead in the eyes. As soon as my skin touched hers, her breath hitched and she gulped, her gaze meeting mine, “Rick… What’s wrong?” She asked softly, her fingers stroking the backs of my knuckles, making a shiver run down my spine.


“I just… I don’t want him to lead you astray.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?”


“Oh for God’s sake… I like you okay? Isn’t it obvious?” I sighed, letting go of her and walking away. I ran my hands through my hair as I heard her footsteps behind me. She placed her hand on my back, and I turned around once again to look at her.


“Rick… I…”


“Please, be quiet…” I said gently, as I pulled her towards me and pressed my lips to hers. At first she didn’t kiss back, and I felt like an absolute idiot for trying to make her like me, but she soon wrapped her arms around my neck and began to move her lips with mine, making my whole body warm up as if a fire had been lit inside of me. I backed her up against the wall, my hands finding her hips and pushing her against it, causing her to gasp. I took that as an opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth to find her own. As we kissed, our tongues danced together, our hot breath mixing, making a pleasurable pain arise in my abdomen. As I pressed my body against hers, I felt her tense up and pull away from the kiss.


She looked down to her leg, where I’d pressed my pelvis into her thigh, my growing erection applying pressure to her skin. She looked back up to me, opening her mouth to say something, but instead shook her head and brought my face back to hers, her lips immediately connecting with mine once again.


Her hands roamed my torso as we kissed, before she tugged at the hem of my shirt. I pulled away for a moment to take my shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind me. She did the same, leaving her bare chest on show for me as she wasn’t wearing a bra. Now I know that she’s really into this…


Feeling her naked chest against my own made my skin feel like it was on fire, sensations running through my body that I haven’t felt in months. She guided me over to the couch, and I switched places with her so I was on top. I began to plant gentle kisses down her neck, leaving a path as I stopped at her collarbone, sucking on the skin to leave a mark. This’ll definitely show Spencer that she’s not his, and never will be…


She groaned as my right hand came up to massage her breasts, squeezing and palming them as my lips still fluttered kisses over any bare skin I could reach. Her back arched, as I took her nipple between my finger and thumb, pinching and twisting it slightly. I used my spare hand to unzip her shorts, pushing them as far down as I could reach before she shimmied slightly to push them off of her legs. I moved down her body, my hands resting on her sides by her rib cage, my fingers digging in a little as I kissed her stomach, her hip bones, then the top of her thigh.


I stopped with my face between her legs, and looked up at her. Her damp hair fell over her eyes a little, but didn’t restrict her vision. She bit her lip and watched as I pursed my lips over her clit, exhaling a hot breath over her through her underwear. She squirmed, her legs almost kicking the air as she inhaled a short breath, only to release it with a throaty groan. I took her underwear in my grasp and slowly pulled the garment from her, pressing kisses to the insides of her thighs as I moved down her legs. She writhed around beneath me, her legs hitting my chest as I moved my way back up all the way to her face so I could kiss her once more.


She took my face in her hands gently, kissing me tenderly, making it feel like all of her emotions were coming out in that one kiss. It’s as if she was finally letting go of how she feels, specifically how she feels about me. It’s so loving, so careful, yet so addictive and makes me want to beg for more.


I rested my hand on her stomach, slowly working my down between her thighs. I drew small shapes on her skin with my fingertips, making her giggle slightly through kiss, making my lips tingle. I then cupped my whole hand around her pussy, the heat radiating from her as I felt her becoming wet at my touch. “Rick… Please…” She said between gasps, pushing me away from her one hand tugged at my hair. I hovered over her, my fingers dangerously close to her clit, as I pushed them in between her slick folds. I didn’t want to make her beg, the last thing I want is to string this out, especially when I’ve waited so damn long already.


With my middle finger, I began to rub her clit slowly, making her face contort and scrunch up with pleasure, her mouth hanging open as she tried her best to steady her breathing. I smiled at this, whilst knowing she wouldn’t see me as her eyes were closed tightly. I began to rub in circular motions, adding my forefinger and picking up speed. She lifted her legs, wrapping them around my thighs as her arms flung over my shoulders. She moaned my name continuously as I pressed down on the swollen bud that ached for attention and pleasure. I slid my hand downwards, inserting a finger inside her gradually, allowing her to get used to the feeling. She’s never been with anyone else since she joined our group, and that was months ago, so she hasn’t done this in a while either.


She opened her eyes, capturing my gaze. I asked if I could move my hand and she nodded, her tongue darting out of her mouth to lick her top lip, as I began to pump my hand in and out of her. She instantly threw her head back, a loud staggered moan echoing around the room as my long finger slid inside and back out again smoothly. She started to quieten down, worrying me. I looked up to check if she was okay and she just looked straight back, telling me not to stop. I added a second finger, and began to thrust my hand faster. Her whole body rocked as my fingers pounded in and out of her, making her yell my name at the top of her lungs. Part of me wants Spencer to show up, he’d be able to hear her from outside, then he’d know where he stands with her.


I felt her walls tighten around my fingers, and her thighs began to shake. “I’m close…” She whispered. Those words alone were enough to almost send me over the edge as I quickened up the pace once more, startling her as she choked out a moan, climaxing under my touch.


I sat back, impressed with my work as she sat up, her hair twice as messy as it was before, her cheeks red. “I’m not done with you,” I teased, as she looked at my erection through my jeans. I stood up briefly to rid myself of my pants and underwear. Her eyes widened as her gaze landed on my cock. I couldn’t fight the smirk that grew on my face as I climbed back on top of her, kissing her gently to ease her back into the mood. She may have already had one orgasm, but I aim to make it two. I’ve been waiting so long for this moment, I’m not going to waste it.


“Are you sure you wanna do this?” I ask, my hand resting on her stomach, softly drawing patterns on her skin, leaving goosebumps in my path.


“Rick… If I wasn’t sure, I would’ve said so already.” She raised a brow sarcastically, causing me to just shake my head in reply as I kissed her passionately. I positioned myself over her so I could ease into her comfortably. After asking her for reassurance again, I slowly pushed myself inside her, careful not to go too deep and let her adjust to the feeling first.


She groaned, her hands digging into my shoulder blades as I pulled out,l almost all the way before thrusting back into her. The moan that escaped her mouth told me it was okay to move more, so I wrapped my arms around her, thrusting at a quicker pace. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, choking back several moans of my name as I moved in and out of her with the same constant rhythm. She wrapped her legs around my thighs, pushing me with her feet to drive me deeper inside her. I groaned as she took my full length, her hands roaming my back as she moaned directly in my ear, her short breaths tickling the side of my face.


I felt my cock twitch inside her as she tensed up. In that moment, I sped up, pounding in and out of her at a quick pace, earning multiple yells of my name that seemed to bounce off the walls of the room. I could hear the sounds of people outside and couldn’t help but wonder if they could hear us. Fuck it. Let them listen.


With one final call of my name, she came undone again, and I followed suit, collapsing on top of her with our sweaty bodies pressed against one another. I breathed heavily, panting as she stroked my hair out of my face, planting a kiss on my forehead. For a moment we laid there in a comfortable silence together, just enjoying the post-coital bliss, with our naked bodies touching. I looked up at her, leaning to kiss her lips softly, “So…” I started.


“So…” She laughed, reaching up and brushing her hair back, “This was, nice…” She giggled awkwardly. I couldn’t help but laugh along, as we held each other close, and right there I knew, she’d never be with Spencer the way she now is with me…




This is my first smut I have posted on tumblr, and the first smut I’ve written from a male point of view! I hope you all like it. Remember, you can request an imagine at any time, just send me a message or go to my ask section!

Originally posted by ohmydixon

The Suriel, Cassian thinks, is a little fucking prick.

They’ve been searching for it all day, with bags of dresses and rags and whatever they thought it would be enough to make that creature happy, but it was still nowhere to be seen.

He already knows that Feyre will laugh herself hoarse when she will know that her mate and the two most deadly Illyrians in history passed hours trying to do what she did in mere moments.

“Rhys,” he says, each of his words a silly provocation “next time we need to do something like this, you stay home and we bring Feyre. She’s a lot most useful than you are and way better to look at.”, and even if his brother punches him for the taunt, a little brotherly fight is way better than the utter boredom clawing at his brain.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Rhys says “We will soon be home so you will have all the time you want to stare at you favorite  Archeron, and I’ll take care of my Feyre.”

Cassian shows him his teeth in response.

Azriel looks at him with sympathy in his eyes, and the fact that Rhys doesn’t even have to say her name because they all know who he is talking about bothers him to no end;


Her name sounds like music, n-e-s-t-a, and Cassian needs to rein his thoughts before his mind starts thinking of her, as it always does.

A gush of wind grazes his wings and he shivers slightly, closing his eyes for a second.

He remembers how it was, during those months of recovering, the pain, the utter fear that he would be earthbound all his life, even less than the bastard-born nobody he already is, crushed under the weight of a broken promise.

And she was there.

By some sort of miracle, Nesta Archeron of all people decided to help, to stand by him, her words like daggers designed to rile him up, to get a reaction out of him, to make him live just as he tried to help her in her new fae body and when, at times, he couldn’t look at her without being crushed by how much he failed her, she was the one to take his chin in her hand in a movement so swift he didn’t even noticed and asked him if he preferred Azriel’s death.

He nearly emptied his stomach at the idea of losing his brother, but he couldn’t stop thinking of her screams, and if only the King wasn’t such a blasted bastard, if only he saw the blow coming for Az sooner, if only they guarded their house in the Mortal Realm better, if, if, if.

It wasn’t easy for either of them.

And even with his pain, he couldn’t handle the loathing Nesta harboured for herself, for her new body and he wanted- he wanted to show her how perfect she was, how breathtakingly beautiful, how fierce and-

And he couldn’t, can’t.

He knows there’s a line between them, even now that his wings are covered in scar tissue and she adjusted to her new found immortal body but still, that line scares him shitless.

Sometimes he doesn’t even know how he manages to keep himself from touching her, to bury himself in everything that she is; sometimes he thinks that one moment, one time of her, just once, it would be enough, but he knows that’s a lie because he knows, knows from the devastating need he has of her that if he gets a touch, a kiss, anything, he is going to yearn for it for all his damned life.

When he was scared out of his mind for his wings, he used to hear light footsteps just out of his room at night, and even if it was just his imagination pulling tricks on him he hoped it was her, he hoped it so much he could scent her, and his dreams, Mother- he couldn’t help but feel ashamed everytime he dreamt of her, both awake and asleep, for how he used his hand pretending it was hers, how many times he recalled how his tongue brushed her neck, his lips kissing her jaw, the perfect fit of her breasts on his chest; it never happened again, them being so close and it is torture of the most horrible kind to have her so near yet so far, to see her fire, to see right through every wall of hers but not being enough to be at her side, to only have what he so desperately wants in his dreams, and even his thoughts, everything that he is has now a become pattern, always circling around her, and even if they could be called friends at this point, after days and days of words made to rile up and hurt, after they both came to a understanding of one another, trying desperately to ignore the fire that roared underneath, the same fire that pulled them together, friends  is the last word he would use to describe what is between them.

Not lovers, not friends, not exactly family, because he would never have that kind of thoughts if he considered her family-her under him, moaning, screaming, shaking, her eyes half open, her lips red from kissing, her hips with the imprint of his fingertips- and  he’s been attracted to her like an uncontrollable force from the very first moment their eyes met, with her icy glare and fiery words and it grew and grew from that day and he doesn’t know when lust and curiosity became love and need, but it did.

A sharp sound interrupts his thoughts and there the Suriel is, just in front of them and it is way more ugly than Cassian remembers.

“The High Lord of Night and his brothers,” it says, his voice is one of the most hideous sounds Cassian has ever heard “what an honor.” its tone a clear mockery.

“Likewise,” Rhys says, his voice cold “we’ve brought some things you might like, in exchange for one answer.”

The creature smiles, all grey and yellow teeth “Then ask.”

“How can we destroy the Cauldron?”

“Are you sure that is what you want?”, the answer comes the moment Rhys ends his question, like the creature already knew the words that were about to come out of the High Lord’s mouth.

The smile on the Suriel becomes a thing of cruelty as it moves a little closer and Cassian can see the wave of doubt on his brothers face, and it mirrors his own.

“If you destroy the Cauldron, you destroy what it has created. What was the name the King gave her? Oh, the hellcat.”

Everything in Cassian’s body freezes, a wave of fear so strong hits him as he remembers that damned day, her screams drilling in his skull again and again.

He’s about to strangle the Suriel with his bare hands when the creature turns to him, cocks its head to the side and says “Wouldn’t it be a shame to lose your mate, Commander?”

Cassian opens his mouth, closes it and finds out that he can’t breathe and in a moment, the Suriel is gone, and Cassian couldn’t care less.

Those words are traveling down his body with the force of a wild forest fire.

mate, mate, mate


He can’t believe it, how did he not notice, how is it possible, how-

Cassian doesn’t wait for his brothers, doesn’t care of their voices calling him, he drops the bag full of dresses and flies as fast as he can, nearly falls, his mind a mess and the only thing he can think about is her.

He stops right out of the House of Wind; what will he tell her? He can’t keep it to himself, won’t be able to and she has every right to know, but the idea of her rejecting him-his mate rejecting him- is more than he can take.

He breathes and gathers his courage, even as fear seeps through his bones as he enters the house.

Nesta is his mate, his mate, his

Cassian doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know if he should search for her or not, if he can delay the inevitable just a little longer.

But Mother, he needs her, needs her now more than ever because damn, fuck, she’s his mate, his mate, and he never even thought of having one-but that’s a lie and he knows it because as he looked at Rhys and Feyre and what they have he hoped that if he was ever so lucky to get a mating bond it would be with her, Nesta, but he hadn’t thought it could actually be real, that he was worthy of something precious such as this, such as her.

He is so, so scared.

The idea of Nesta rejecting him is so painfully clear in his mind he can see how it would go, her cold, beautiful eyes, not even a movement on her face as she says that she is worth more than a bastard-born nobody and she is right and he just watches, helpless, as she takes that string from his chest and cuts until there’s nothing left of him.

He doesn’t realize he didn’t move until he hears the sound of footsteps and he knows it’s her, he knows.

She doesn’t speak, she watches him and he wonders if she can feel what he’s feeling, the anticipation and dread and love that are tearing him apart.

“What did it say?” she asks and Cassian doesn’t answer, doesn’t even turn to look at her, too scared of what he might do now that he knows and a treacherous part of him asks can she feel how much I need her? Does she know? Will she ever want-

“Something went wrong?” there is worry in her voice and he can’t take it and- he has to go to Hybern, has to take that damned Cauldron and hide it somewhere no one will ever find it.

He feels it, when she gets closer, and when her small hand closes around his wrist his skin burns.

“Cassian, answer me. Something went wrong?” and Mother damn him, he can’t stop himself, as he turns around and kisses her, pouring all the emotions he is feeling into the blissful contact of his lips on hers.

Her arms go slack at her sides and he feels as her hand leaves his wrist and he whimpers at the loss and he can’t help but think that he is the most stupid idiot ever, how could he think she would want this, want him but then her hands move, her fingers in his hair as she pulls him down, opens her mouth, swallows him whole.

Nesta is hesitant, and he remembers that she’s never been touched, never been loved like she deserves

-and he remembers of that poor excuse of a man in the Human Realm, he recalls with satisfaction the face of that mortal waste when he opened the door to find an Illyrian Warrior in front of him.

The urge to protect her, to make sure she is as happy as she can be, it burned through him since that day in her chamber, and now he knows why,

my mate, my mate, my mate his mind screams.

Cassian cradles her head as gently as he can and opens his mouth slowly and the contact of her tongue brushing his is so perfect but there’s-there’s a change in her scent, and the smell of arousal coming from her goes straight to his cock and he has to calm the roaring in his blood that screams of taking and marking and claiming.

He breathes through his nose and fights the urge of taking her against the wall but her scent is everywhere, burns deep inside his lungs, makes him kiss her harder, his tongue brushing on her lower lip and it feels they are the only thing that matters, and the parts where their bodies connect makes him want to scream more.

They stop for a second, but he doesn’t move an inch, his forehead on hers.

He knows he should say something but his brain is in battle with his instinct and they are still in the corridor and he doesn’t trust himself should another male even breath in Nesta’s direction.

But he doesn’t know what to say, and if says to go to his room she will think he wants to bed her, and he wants to, Mother he wants to so bad but does she want it?

Cassian looks at her, at her swollen lips, at the black of her pupils that nearly devoured the color of her eyes, leaving a thin grey line.

He should tell her, he has to tell her.

Cassian thinks of a battlefield, thinks of the moment he prepares himself for the possibility of losing everything.

“You’re my mate.” he says, stumbles on the words, fights against the urge of closing his eyes.

Nesta doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, there’s no surprise or joy on her beautiful features but the expression on her face is of someone who already made a decision.

Cassian wants to shake and rage and scream, everything to make the silence cease to exist, everything to get a proper reaction out of her.

Do you want me?

She takes his hand, turns around and starts to walk, not saying a thing.

He follows her, his eyes locked at the back of her head, on the golden brown waves of her hair.

He knows this corridor, he knows where it leads, he can’t breathe, what does this mean, what does this mean-


When they enter the kitchen, is like the hair as been sucked from his lungs and she doesn’t leave his hand as she takes an apple from a bowl and turns to him, there’s a small smile on her face, and he notices the slight trembling of her hand, her hand that trembles like she’s insecure and how could she be-

“That’s how it works, right?” she asks and his eyes are burning, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying and she takes a step closer and Cassian has to gather all his strength to not fall on his knees.

“Yes,” he says, as he takes the apple in his hand and bites on it, his eyes not leaving hers, and it’s the most delicious thing he has ever eaten.

It takes one bite, only one bite for the roaring in his blood to grow and grow until it’s nearly unbearable, she accepted him, she wants him, she’s his.


His, His, His


Cassian takes a step closer and he hears the sound of the apple falling on the ground as he moves to bury his hands in her hair, and when her arms go around his neck he picks her up, her body against his, their mouths moving in a kiss that’s completely feral and he knows she’s feeling exactly what he’s feeling.

He wants her skin on his, he needs so many things in this moment and he will make her feel so good, so good that she will beg for more, if only she will let him.

But not here.

“Hold on tight.” he says as he walks backwards toward the window, and she understands, she knows he is going to fly out of the House of Wind, and she trusts him, she looks him and nods and his heart is bursting and he flies, and if some tears fall from his eyes it’s not for the wind.

This, he thinks, this, as he feels the wind in his hair and Nesta’s body against his, her scent in his lungs so deep as he breaths her in, this is something he will always cherish, something he will do everything to live again and again and again.

And once they will be in the Cabin…

He tries to swallow, to tame the sense of anticipation that is forming inside him, to focus on where he’s flying and not fall on his ass.

Her fingers move slowly, tracing the line of his jaw, of his chin, of his lips and he nearly growls at that, his blood boiling, his most primal instincts yelling inside him.

When he sees the Cabin he dives down as carefully as he can, ends up just in front of the door that he opens with a kick, doesn’t let Nesta down, not yet, “Bed”, he says, his voice low and barely understandable, but she-

He will give her all that she wants, he will-Cassian stops in his tracks the moment he feels her lips on his neck, as her tongue trails a line and reaches his jaw he runs for the bedroom, because he will not fuck his mate against the wall, floor, table, door-



The moment her back touches the sheets they both become frantic, hands wandering, touching all that they can and there are so many things he wants to do to her and he can’t stop himself, he takes her breasts in his hands and he can feel her flesh through the fabric of her dress and he wants it off, off, off.

He sees as her hand moves to unhook the straps of his fighting leathers and there’s no hesitation in her eyes, even as her hands shake and damn it, he loves her.


Cassian doesn’t move as she removes the upper part of his fighting leathers, as she moves her hands on his chest, slowly, slowly, so achingly slowly he bites his lower lip because he wants her hands everywhere on him.

They are in front of each other now, and he can’t resist the urge to kiss her neck, her collarbone and down, just above her breasts and Mother, fuck.

He goes lower as they both lie again on the bed, tracing his tongue above the fabric, just on the peak of her breasts and her back arches, his hands go around her hips, keeping her in place.

He does it again, the touch stronger, his hands traveling up and down her sides, teasing her, and he wants to hear her, he wants to make her-

Please” she says, and the word travels right down to his core.

He goes up to her, tracing his thumb on her lower lip, her tongue brushes it.

“What do you want, Nesta?” he says, his voice barely a whisper, but he knows that she can hear him.

“My mouth or my fingers?” he passes his lips on her ear as he utters the question and she moans and damn him if it isn’t the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

She bites her lips as his lips travel up and down the side of her face as he asks “Or both?”

Nesta arches again and he can’t believe just his words have this effect on her, he loves it.

He wants this-her-so much he nearly shakes but he needs- he needs her to know.

Cassian takes her face in his hands and looks in the beautiful storm of her eyes as he says “I love you. I loved you yesterday and before the Suriel said that- that we are mates. I just- I love you.” he is talking too much and he knows it and even if doesn’t say it back, even if she-even if she doesn’t love him, he will wait. He will wait for her.

You”, she says and there’s such emotion in her voice, in the slight tremble of it as she gets closer, so close they are breathing the same air, “You know it. You know that I love you, every night outside your bedroom door, you know it. ”

He closes his eyes for a second, to let her words sink in.

He didn’t imagine it, she was there, she was there, she was there

Cassian feels like-it’s too much, it’s too much, the utter joy her words are giving him, it’s all too much for a male to handle but he wants it all, he doesn’t care if he will die from it, he doesn’t care and he wants more.

He trails down on her, his fingers on her soft skin and he wants to lick and kiss and bite every inch of her and he will, he will learn her body until he will need only a single touch to set her ablaze.

Cassian looks up at her as he works on the buttons of her dress, and she looks at him like she’s daring him to go further and he tries very hard to not just break the buttons and have her.

He manages to open up her dress and helps her out of it, and the breath stops in his lungs, his eyes eating up every part of her exposed body and a thin white fabric covering her breasts and most intimate parts.

His lips move on her, kissing her breasts again, her stomach, her navel and he looks up at her, keeping his movements slow so that she understands what is happening and to make her feel everything, he wants to make her feel so good and not only because she’s untouched and damn him, he can’t believe he will be her first, that he will be the one to make love to her for the first time.

Cassian slowly moves her underwear down her legs, his tongue trailing a path down her belly, his hands moving to hers and she entwines their fingers together.

He kisses between her legs and hears the intake of breath she takes so he decides to tease her a bit, to make her desire build up until she can’t stand it, until all she can do is moan his name.

Cassian passes his tongue on her inner thigh, close enough to her centre but not enough and she rolls her head back

Nesta is watching him and he knows it, so he looks straight into her eyes as his tongue brushes upon her sex, a light touch but it’s enough to make her moan, the sound so obscenely beautiful that he has to refrain from rutting his hips against the mattress at the divine taste of her.

Cassian decides to leave the teasing and his fingers to another time as the need to taste her gets stronger and he moves his tongue again, swipes it all over her and she arches so much her shoulder blades are the only part of her back still on the bed.

Nesta tries to move like she’s torn between the need of watching him and the movements her body makes as she writhes in pleasure.

His thumbs grazes her hand as his tongue keeps working on her, up and down and inside of her until her legs start to shake and her fingers close on his and she starts panting.

Cassian knows she’s close and he wants to see her come, he pulls her to him with their joined hands and she looks at him, her mouth open, her eyes wide and a broken sound goes out of her mouth “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Cassian I’m-” her orgasm hits her midsentence, and Cassian licks her through it, following the movements her body makes until her only motion is the shaking of her legs.

He kisses her one last time before he moves up to her, cradles her face in his hands and the look on her face, Mother, the look on her face: her lips are red and shiny, her hair a wild mess, her cheeks flushed and she’s perfect.

Cassian kisses her and she grips the sides of his face, pulling him to her, deepening the kiss.

He barely goes out of control when her chest meets his and he immediately moves to remove the last piece of her underwear and she’s gloriously naked under him.

He takes a moment to just watch her, all of her, and he’s in awe.

His hands fly to his trousers, finally freeing himself and as his cock goes out of his trouser Nesta licks her lips.

His heart is beating so fast, the quick drumming of it inside his chest anchors Cassian to reality, to what is about to happen.

For a brief second, he doesn’t know what to do with himself; he wants to fuck her until she’s screaming, he wants to love her slowly and be bathed in the sound of her moans, he wants, he wants, he wants.

Cassian moves until he is between her still shaking legs and he moves his hips slowly, so achingly slowly and fuck, she’s so tight, she’s so incredibly tight and warm that he feels every inch of him enveloped by her, and she’s so fucking wet, it’s perfect.

He hides his face in the crook of her neck, kisses all his way up to her mouth and he’s the delighted to see no pain or discomfort on her beautiful face, but only pleasure.

So he moves again and Nesta’s hands go around his neck and she looks at him and he kisses her, as her fingers slide between his hair.

She moves, opens her legs more for him and stops the kiss, her eyes into his as a growl leaves her lips and she says “Mine”.

He stops moving for a second, he stops breathing as the word sinks in, the claim in it.

Then Cassian moves, placing her legs on his shoulders and she moves with it, careful of his wings, and then he’s diving right into her, his hips snapping, the sound of their bodies echoes in the room above their moans and whispered words.

Yours”, he says, and “Mine, mine, mine.”

His pace is quick and deep and Nesta’s moans get louder and louder, filling the room, and he moves a hand to the peak of her sex, strokes her folds and her breathing get ragged, he can feel the shaking of her legs on his skin.

“Say it. Say that you’re mine, Nesta. Say it.” his voice is a deep growl thundering from his chest and she whimpers, completely lost.

“Yours, yours.” she moans and Cassian knows they are both getting close and when she comes, all around him, shivering, moaning right on his lips he can’t hold it any longer, his hips moving and moving until he can’t take it and he comes with the most heart shattering orgasm he has ever had.

He kisses her.

Kisses her lips, her nose, her cheeks, keeps kissing her as he eases her legs off of his shoulders, keeps kissing her as he takes her in his arms.

Nesta falls asleep first, and as Cassian watches her peaceful expression his mind goes to the Cauldron and to the all the places he can hide it and even if the thought of that precious object still being in Hybern makes him want to fly there as soon as he can-and he has no doubts his family is already forming a plan for it- he can’t help but laugh a little at the fact that of all the creatures living in Prythian he owes his complete happiness to the Suriel.

He will bring all the dresses, tunics and leathers he owns to the forest next time.

Maybe even a cape.

Address in the Stars

I apologize in advance.

“Nesta! Nesta!” Cassian came running into the house in a full blown panic. He could feel Nesta’s heart racing, he could feel her panicking. He had left the camps, in the middle of sparring, because he had to make sure she was okay.

“Nesta!” He called for her over and over again, his own heart racing. His hands shook as he searched for her. He was sure she was here, the bond had led him to this very place. But their bedroom was empty, so was the living room.

When he found her the tightness in his chest loosened as he stepped out into the backyard. She was facing away from him. Her scent wrapped around him, calming his panic. He could still feel hers, but it was nothing compared to what his had been. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“Cass,” tears were on her cheeks as he pressed soft kisses against her neck, “I didn’t hear you come in. You’re early.”

He kissed the back of her neck, making her shiver. Cassian smiled, “I felt your panic. I felt you, I didn’t think I just followed the bond.”

Nesta went stiff in his arms, “the bond.”

Cassian then realized where her fears had come from, why she had been panicking. Because she felt the bond snap into place. She felt him, she felt everything the way he had felt her for months. He didn’t know why it had happened now, when they had been doing everything exactly the same as before. But Cassian had never been happier. Or more terrified in his life.

Cassian ran the tips of his fingers over her arms. Waiting a full minute before speaking. He knew she would push him away, keep him at a distance like she had before. She never wanted the mating bond, she told him that the day she was remade and he woke up to broken wings. But somehow through the bluster and bullshit of their life, they had found each other.

They had chosen each other.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I loved ur HC's for MC leaving the RFA because she's too dangerous, can I get a follow up where they ask 707 to search for MC and he's only able to find information about why she left and who she really is, how would the RFA react to the truth about MC and the true reason for which she left? Still no happy ending because he still can't find her at all, just that information. Thanks! ^-^ Love your blog!

Lool, ok! But V is not in this one (You must know why, even if i ignore that fact he would do the same thing or he would always try to find you, so it wouldn’t be so good.) Thank you for your request and i hope you like it!



  • He was in Seven’s house after he called Yoosung because he said he have something to tell him.
  • Seven turns off his security system…He doesn’t want to let Yoosung angry or anything.
  • He knows that Yoosung is bad enough right now, he knows how to depress he is, how worthless he feels…
  • How he gives up on school and on his life
  • When Yoosung got there, Seven sighs….Sad to see his friend so destroyed.
  • But when Seven begins to talk about you, Young’s eyes brighten up
  • After that, he gives him a big smile and hugs him tightly “THANK YOU…!” After that, he just runs.
  • Seven give a little laugh, thinking his friend will be fine now.
  • Yoosung got home so quickly, with that big smile on his face! He’s just too happy that all those things you said were lies!
  • But when he realizes that all that information was useless…That smile got smaller.
  • And then he realizes that you’re probably not coming back…The smile fades away.
  • That didn’t change anything.
  • Actually, he is even worse now just to think about what could have happened to you…
  • He lost two important people in his life, two people were sent away.
  • Yoosung just can’t sleep…He needs medication.
  • But wait…
  • I think he took too many pills this time.


  • Zen can’t even look at himself in the mirror…He knows he is drinking and smoking too much.
  • He doesn’t even answer calls, he doesn’t want to talk to anyone.
  • But that day Seven was banging on his door, so he opens it “Oh…Seven…What’s up?”
  • Seven’s face is a surprised face…What happened to Zen?
  • But he’s trying to play it cool…If Zen knows how horrible he is now…He would be worse.
  • “…I have some information about MC…” And then Seven told him everything, Zen’s paying attention to it.
  • When Seven finish Zen just gives him a little smile “…Did you find her?”
  • Seven sighs, look like that’s all that Zen wants to know “No…”
  • Zen’s face is now full of sadness “Thank you…”
  • He closes the door.
  • Seven knows insisting will not help, so he goes away.
  • Zen kept thinking and thinking with his eyes closed when he opens it… He is facing a mirror.
  • Now he sees how he is now.
  • He gives a little laugh with tears falling from his eyes, touching his face gently…
  • He looks like a monster.
  • He picks another cigarette and lights it up, sitting on the couch, smoking…He doesn’t care about his appearance at all…He finally realizes it.
  • He needs you…But he already accepts it…You’ll not come back.
  • And now he’s finished…Even if you come back…You’ll not even recognize him.
  • He doesn’t see a purpose of keeping this life.
  • He looks at the cigarette after he takes it from his mouth “…Why i heal so fast…?This thing will take ages to work on me…”
  • He sighs and he throws the cigarette on the ground “…I should buy a gun…It would a dramatic end…”
  • He smiles, thinking.


  • All those words…That hurt so much.
  • That pain in her chest is too much too.
  • Everyday sorrow, pain…Tears.
  • Everybody in that cafe can see that she is not well, but she insists on giving that broken smile to everyone.
  • And refuse any kind of help.
  • What is Jaehee Kang? A pity.
  • But one day Seven called her, and then he told her everything.
  • While he’s saying, she’s smiling so much…All those words…All of those words were lies!
  • Even when he said that he didn’t find you, she kept that smile on her face.
  • She will wait for you!
  • Every day, she is with a genuine smile on her face looking at the cafe door, waiting to see you!
  • People are really worried about her…But she always says that she is waiting for the love of her life to come back!
  • Jaehee never gives up…Time is nothing!
  • Even those white hair and wrinkles can stop her!
  • But…Time will soon.
  • He’ll stop her from waiting for you…After forty years.


  • Jumin Han needs answers…Everybody can see he doesn’t look the same.
  • But when 7 told all the truth to him, Jumin just…smiled, a thing he didn’t do for some time.
  • He was right, all of those things were lies.
  • You love him, you want to protect him, and he is feeling happy about it.
  • He can forget about a lot of things…Especially those things…He loves you, you’re his wife now.
  • He loses that smile when Seven says that he didn’t find you, he hangs up after a “Keep searching.”
  • He is waiting and waiting.
  • The alcohol is his best friend now, he keeps drinking and smiling, saying to himself that you were protecting him…But you’ll never come back at this rate.
  • His father goes to his penthouse after Jaehee say she was worried about Jumin state.
  • When his father arrives there…All the could see is a man, with a messy hair, tear up clothes, with a bottle of vodka in his hands next to a destroyed room…
  • That wasn’t his son…Jumin is not like that.
  • His father is crying, everybody was right…
  • Jumin Han is dead.
  • All they have left is a man who cries asking if you could come back.
  • He just wants to jump from the window…
  • But he takes a deep breath and he drowns in the hope that you might come back.


  • He couldn’t  find you…But then he sees he finds a lot of new information about you.
  • He read all that, with a surprised face.
  • When he finishes it, he starts to giggle with a little smile on his face, with tears falling from his face.
  • He starts to laugh a lot, with his mouth wide now, looking up, with the tears falling even more now.
  • He got sick.
  • You did the same thing as he was trying to do…Get away from you.
  • He knew you were lying when you said all those things…But oh god…He gave his life to you!
  • He doesn’t understand why you left even if he is almost just like you.
  • After laughing so much, he screams, throwing his computer to the wall falling on his knees to the ground.
  • He knows you’re not coming back…
  • And now he feels angry…How you made him stay…How you made him be there with you…
  • And when the same things were with you…You just got away.
  • He’ll try to find you, he has to talk to you about that!
  • He wants to die, but he wants to die peacefully after listening to your excuses.
  • But sometimes he can’t just concentrate, he starts to cry and then he has to start to pray…He wants to find you.
  • But he knows that not even God can help him now…This madness is too much.
  • He’s hurt…
  • Too much sadness to one body.
  • Error 707.
  • Shutting down.
Darkness of Assassins

He fell to his knees. He pressed his hand to his heart, desperately hoping the pitifully insane action would keep it from being ripped from his chest.

Aylina. My mate.

He reached in his core being for the bond that had tied them together for centuries. Gone. Tears broke from his eyes knowing.

Aylina. My mate. My mate.

He reached with his Daemati powers, searching for her familiar signature. The love that exuded from her. The love that kept him from being a true nightmare. Silence.

Aylina. My mate. My mate. My mate.

The pain was too much, he couldn’t breathe. Who was shaking the mountain? Who was roaring? Are they under attack?  

Rhysand? Selene? His voice was weak, pleading. Let them be alive. Mother, please let them be alive.

An alerted voice responded, What’s wrong?


The bridge between them still. Both sides silent. Each reaching with their entire beings, accessing, hoping.

We’ll find them.

He wanted to stop him, wanted to stop his son before he found what he knew would be carnage.

They stood as shadows radiating the darkness of assassins. The heavy scent of roses assaulted their senses. A scent that was once considered pleasant, now reminded them of blood, of death, of innocence loss. Their work would be cruel and quiet.

He followed the fading scent.

Aylina. My mate. Selene. My moon.

He intended to only kill the cruel High Lord disguised in roses. When he saw him peacefully sleeping, he instead unleashed a cruel nightmare, the nightmare that was now his reality. He stab the Lady of Spring. He let the pain of losing a mate wash over the cruel High Lord. He let the pain absorb before he misted his heart.

Aylina. My mate.

His son stood before him shocked. This was not the type of men they were to be, they were to be men of dreams not of nightmares. His son pleaded for the blood shed to stop.

Aylina. My mate. My mate.

There was nothing left of him, nothing left for him. The dreams had left him, the world had finally mercilessly broke him.

Aylina. My mate. My mate. My mate.

He knew the killing blow was coming. He stared at his son with a dreamer’s soul. His son was the High Lord Prythian needed, a dreamer and with that final thought he welcomed death’s final blow.