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tadpolesonalgae · 2 days

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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You — Part 23

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: I’m so relieved to finally be getting to this fun part of the story!

word count: 5,699

-Part 22-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Already there’s a horse and cart in the street, trunks and chests neatly stacked in the back, iron padlocks weighing heavy to keep possessions sealed. Blankets and rugs are tied in bundles, bedsheets and pillowcases that you can still smell, remember the feel of them; the warmth they retained. The heat of bare skin flush to your back. Sleepy golden eyes, sharp even when softened by early morning light.

There’s a lump in your throat.

Held between two chests is an open-topped crate, a myriad of personal belongings jumbled about inside: a box you know contains golden rings, his favourite being the one plain band that wraps two hands around his thumb, clinging snugly; a board game you’d tried to play after drinking, back before you’d become closer than friends; wooden goblets with geometric designs burned into their curve; a pair of glasses with circular, coloured lenses. A stack of something wrapped in cloth which must be crockery, ceramic plates with illustrations of crude figures pick-axing ice. A neatly folded quilt is tied down to one of the chests, the one that had been tucked over the back of his armchair, made up of pinks, oranges, magentas, and turquoise. Small tassels hanging off the ends that he’d made himself.

The door to his house is propped open with a wedge crafted of iron, featuring a rabbit in a coat with carrots stuffed in his pockets. Bas’ figure emerges from the comparative darkness lofting a second, smaller crate in his arms. His eyes find yours but he makes no reaction save for the tightening of the skin at his knuckles. He exits through the waist-high wooden gate, walking to the back of the cart to heft the crate in front of the one your eyes had been previously resting on. “Hi,” you say, stepping closer but pausing a respectful distance away. Bas makes no sign of acknowledgement, muscles in his forearms flexing as he hefts the crate into place, pressing it flush to the back. You consider walking away—he clearly isn’t interested in speaking with you, but… “You’re leaving already?”

Bas turns, his expression unchanging, still retaining the frown of concentration from transporting heavy objects to and fro but seemingly colder now you’ve appeared. His stature casts a shadow over you. “Something you want?” He asks, tone clipped but not quite sharp enough to be impatient. Softened at the end. You watch him for a moment—nothing seems sufficient enough or appropriate. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘I miss you’, ‘how are you’. Would any of those suffice? You can’t imagine them doing so. Instead you shift on your feet, casting a portion of your attention to the moving wagon standing stationary at the foot of his front garden. “It looks like you’ll be gone soon,” you observe, speaking quieter than normal for an open day. After a beat, Bas folds his arms over his chest. “Either tomorrow or the day after.” Golden eyes shift to the cart, glancing over the trunks, “Ma’s still got a few things to pack, but once those are loaded we’ll be off.”

Off and gone to the Winter Court, almost entirely out of your reach. You only have six months left to live—do you have enough time to spend on giving him space? You can’t expect him to forgive you so suddenly, so swiftly. People aren’t made like that. But can you risk that time? If you die before seeing him again, or if this is the last time you see him you can’t risk being anything other than honest. But being honest in a situation like this…you need the time to pass to give it the deserved weight. Springing your timeline on him… You don’t want to tell him like this. So instead you look over your shoulder, glancing back into his house. “Got any more boxes that need carrying?”

“Carrying boxes isn’t going to fix shit,” Bas mutters, the poisoned tone catching you off guard. Have you earned yourself that venom? Apparently so.

“I just want to help,” you murmur, looking back at him. “I might not get to see you again.”

“Your sister’s High Lady. I’m sure reaching Winter Court would hardly require a lift of her fingertips,” Bas snaps. His lips press themselves together, like he regrets the outburst. You look down, peering at the cobbles beneath your feet and give a small shake of your head. “I… If you don’t want me there, I won’t visit.” The words sting your throat like bile, hating how they sound on your tongue. “If you want your space I won’t intrude. But it… Obviously I’d like to be able to see you again.”

A few beats pass without a reply, the quiet resting on your shoulders and you make an effort not to let it ruin the moment. You clear your throat, shaking off the mood and glancing up at him, “So. Any crates I can take?” Your heart quickens—if he denies you here it’s a full stop. You can’t imagine you’d be able to find him again if you lose him. The Winter Court is large, and their ties already strained with the Night Court—there’ll be no strings to pull. But it’s his decision now. It’s in his hands.

Bas’ jaw works, his eyes narrowing on you in a way they haven’t done in a long time, but it seems he relents, nodding once toward his house, a loc falling across his temple with the sharp movement. “There are two small boxes in the front entrance, one contains shoes and fabrics, and the other contains herbs. Herbs go on top, yeah?” You nod your head, keeping the smile locked up tight. “Herbs go on top.”

The box full of shoes is surprisingly weighty and you wonder if there are more than a few pairs of boots inside, studded with metal that might be weighing the crate down in your arms. Still you manage, sliding it into place on the last row of space available in the wagon before heading back to collect the box of herbs. You can pick out some of the scents: tarragon, mint, thyme. A hint of pepper and cardamon. The slight warmth of cinnamon and ginger. Rosemary. “I won’t forgive you if you try and make off with my herb box,” a voice calls from further inside.

You start, gripping the small chest tight.

Bas is watching from the living room doorway that leads to the hallway, stairs appearing behind him and the kitchen a little further beyond. It’s disturbing in a surreal way, to be standing inside the bones of his home. Gone are the dried herbs and flowers that had been strung along the walls and ceiling beams, rug removed from the floors and furniture sparse of cushions and quilts. Everything that made it a home, every personal detail seems to have been painstakingly stripped away, leaving only that scent of rosemary and freshly tilled earth that has familiarity stretching aching limbs in your chest.

You summon a huff of laughter, glinting down at the plain chest. “It’s certainly tempting me…” You remember trying foods with him. Things you didn’t have access to in the woods. Dishes you wouldn’t have had access to even if you’d remained in high society. All the different herbs and spices they have here, in Prythian. The range of climates allowing for a variety of taste to grow. You remember the first time he’d soaked chicken in wine among other things, how the meat had tasted a little more bearable, flavoured and soft and tender. Feeling more like meat than leather, without the salty burn to help preserve the food.

“One more upstairs then it’s on Ma.” Bas’ statement cuts through the silent memories washing through, bringing a tremble to your fingertips but you nod. Once you load this chest into the wagon then it’s done on your end. Nothing to keep the conversation going. You manage a small smile but don’t meet his eyes as you turn with the chest in hand, walking it out to the cart and loading it in. From inside you pick out the footfalls of Bas descending the staircase and you stand back to give him room. He slides the box into place and lifts the panels of wood that will prevent any trunks from sliding out on an uphill, latching it in place. Safe and secure.

For some reason you can’t look at him. As if looking at him will mean acknowledging it’s over, and he’s going away.

For a moment you simply stand alongside the wagon, neither sure what to say, what to do now the shared task has been completed. Now it’s time for another decision to be made.

Bas breaks the silence. “Thanks for the help.” You look at him, running your eyes over his expression, trying to gain hints to what’s okay to reply with. Trying to make the right choices. “Thanks for letting me help,” you reply, clearing your throat and glancing back to the wagon. Bas pats his hand once against the wood, shifting to lean his weight against the structure. “We’re going to be heading up northeast first,” he tells you and your ears prick with hope. “Ma’s got a sister who lives around there—near the coast. They haven’t spoken in a long time, but she figured if we’re moving it would be good to let her know.”

You nod your head slowly. “Have you met your aunt before?” Bas shrugs his shoulders, his eyes skating across belongings piled up in the back, “don’t think so. Not one I can remember, at least.” You nod again, looking toward the cobbles. You should be going. Letting him get on with packing up and moving. “I hope-” Your voice catches and you have to clear your throat, swallowing a breath. Looking up a little to meet his eyes. “I hope things are better for you, wherever you go. For you and your mother.” Is that too far? Have you pushed too much? Bas seems to be asking himself the same questions, and you hope he comes to a different conclusion.

“Pa mentioned a statue to me once,” he says softly. “One made entirely out of ice, with snakes carved, wrapping around the feet of the first High Lord of the Winter Court. Apparently it’s about the height of one of the Old Pine’s and every scale of the snake’s skin was carved by the same hand.” Bas shifts, his golden eyes locking with yours. “I hadn’t thought much of it, but we’ll be trying to find a spot around that statue since it’s where Pa grew up. Something he remembered from his childhood.”

Your heart falls numb for a second before skipping into a swift pulse, bumping against your ribs and you take in a subtle breath. You nod your head. Ice statue with snakes. Relief strikes so hard your legs are weakened, having to shift your weight from one hip to the other so a knee doesn’t buckle. “I hope you get to see it,” you manage, sounding strained before you swallow, nodding your head. “I hope you find what you’re looking for there.”

Bas’ mouth tightens into something that might have been a smile, then he’s nodding his head once in reply and patting the cart again. “I need to check on Ma now—see how she’s managing with packing.” He pushes off from the wagon, and you turn to watch him pass through the waist-high garden gate. He pauses.

“Give me some time though, yeah? I need…time. Some space. Let me adjust and settle down for a bit.”

You nod your head, happy enough he seems to be allowing you to visit. You can work from there. Earn back his trust. You realise he has his back turned and can’t see you, so offer your reply, “I will.” You want to say more. I’ll miss you until then. I’m sorry. Thank you.

But, time.

You still have some of that left to give.

————

You take your time walking back to the River House, following the Sidra for some way. Affording yourself the allowance to peer in shop windows, gaze at people going about their lives, wondering about what their own stories are.

You’re happy Bas decided to tell you. Not just about where he would be moving to but about the route he’d be taking to bypass his aunt. You know he didn’t have to tell you. You weren’t entitled to that knowledge, but he decided to tell you anyway. A small piece of forgiveness—a small, tentative first step. After so much darkness in your life it seems like a tiny star twinkling in the sky, clouds parting just long enough to catch a glimpse. A promise that there is good in the world, and if you’re in a bad place now it would be foolish to stop.

You need to keep going in order to escape it.

————

The kitchen is surprisingly full when you enter the entry way, discarding your cloak and outer layers to the hooks on the walls, taking care to ease out the ties of your boots before also discarding them alongside other sets.

Inside there’s no need for jumpers or cloaks, fleeces or scarves. A muffled pop of a log sounds from the living room, honestly sounding closer to someone stepping heavily on an upper floorboard but there’s something about the warmth that tells you the fire’s lit. That and you can make out the faded orange flicker on the wall parallel to the living room’s door where flame light is colouring the cream wallpaper. The smell of heated food catches your attention and your stomach shifts in response, squeezing itself together in complaint as if to remind you of how empty it is. Some warmed bread and butter would be lovely to start the day with. There might even be some chilled clotted cream available in the ice-enchanted larder.

Rounding the corner, you’re sure you haven’t ever seen the kitchen so full. Glancing at the clock mounted on the wall beside the crockery cabinet however, you realise it’s approaching lunch time. You suppose it makes sense—if Madja’s at ten O’clock and you left after that to visit Bas, then taking your time to walk back will have brought you to lunch. That would explain the business.

Already there’s crackling from cooking oil on the stove, the smell of heated bread and salt, the slight fattiness of meat mixing with the sweetness of sliced fruit coming from another side of the large kitchen. An egg cracks and you hear the sizzle of it as it hits the pan, the knock of steel as it slices into a chopping board, the smell of chives, onions, and tomatoes greeting you next. On the main table sits sliced bread, baked through with diced olives and rosemary, butter sitting ready for the taking on a platter with a flattened knife propped on the tray’s side.

Feyre, Mor, and Amren are already seated at the table, each with a plate of what appears to be mashed potato surrounded by steamed beans and thickly cut ovals of tender meat. Amren's plate holds meat more that anything else. Feyre tips a deep boat of spiced sauce over her mash so it drizzles atop the vegetables before passing the boat to Mor, seeming not to care they’re eating in the kitchen rather than the connected dining room. Nesta barks something at Cassian over the loud fritz of the oil and he passes two plates to her side before returning to the chopping board, a few moments later stepping close to her side to slide the sliced chives into the pan with the eggs. A shadow whisks past you into the room, depositing salt and pepper to the side of the stove before hurriedly returning the way it had come. You turn your head quick enough to catch as it scampers back to the upper floors, disappearing through the ceiling.

At a side along the window-lined wall is Elain, pressing her fork into some well-mashed banana before scraping it off onto some toasted bread, already softened with butter. You make your way over, taking the serrated bread knife from beside her plate to cut a slice yourself, liking the look of the thick crust and seed-scattered bread. Her eyes find you and a smile follows swiftly after, taking in your appearance, “Was it you I heard come in?” You nod, holding the bread firmly as you grind the knife forward to cut the crust, “I forgot to eat breakfast before heading out and lost track of time.”

Pulling a plate down from one of the stacks inside a cabinet with a window in you move the slice from the chopping board, “You’re having lunch?” Elain’s cheeks warm, her lips tightening as she looks guiltily out onto the front garden. “My sleep was troubled,” she admits, “I only awoke around ten thirty this morning.”

Your brows furrow. “You’re sleeping poorly?”

“It seems that way.” Elain exhales, pausing the sweep of her knife across the mashed banana. “It’s just the same thing over and over again. I wish the beginning would fade now it’s passed but apparently I must watch the whole sequence from start to finish.”

She’s still getting the vision?

You look away from her—down to the side table, “I’m sorry.” But Elain shakes her head, sighing once more before straightening her shoulders. “I’m okay. It’s just a bit of lost sleep.” Before you can ask her anymore however, the sound of footsteps catch your attention, Rhysand and Azriel apparently having finished up whatever had been keeping them from joining the lunch. Elain pushes a smile to her lips then gestures with her eyes to the table, suggesting taking a seat. You follow after her.

“Finally given up work to grace us with your presence?” Feyre muses, resting her chin atop the smooth skin of her tough knuckles. Rhysand lifts a brow, his mouth curving with a fondness specifically meant for his mate, “I gave you plenty of attention this morning, Feyre.” But your youngest sister doesn’t blush like you would have had a lover repeated those same words for you. Instead her mouth matches his curve, blue-grey eyes alight with twinkling mischief as she inclines her head toward Azriel. “In fact I was speaking to your Shadowsinger. His presence is much more appreciated.” The male in question dips his head by a degree, taking his seat beside Amren as silently as possible while the High Lord and Lady continue their domestic teasing.

“Is that so?” Rhysand remarks, seating himself in the chair to Feyre’s right, opposite Mor. “Will you tell me what’s so much more appreciated about my brother’s presence than my own?” Feyre arches a brow, her smile widening, “I wouldn’t want to hurt your ego, preening and engorged as it is.” Rhys’ expression shifts to something verging on smug but Mor stabs a thick oval of meat with her fork, lifting it from the plate, shifting it between Rhys and Feyre, “enough from both of you. I don’t want to hear this over lunch.” The compass point of her fork settles on her cousin, Mor’s nose wrinkling, “Az also isn’t a smug bastard, unlike someone else I can think of.”

Elain takes the open seat beside Rhysand and opposite Amren, setting her plate down and drawing her chair back, leaving you to stiffly take the one at her side, across from Azriel. What poor seating choices you’ve all made.

Behind Amren and Azriel, Nesta presses to Cassian’s side who’s holding the plates aloft, keeping them steady as Nesta transfers the four eggs in the pan between them, two soft yolks for the two slices of buttered bread atop each plate.

“Azriel also remembered to bring me blood more frequently than yourself, Rhys,” Amren drawls from opposite Elain, a wicked croon on her crimson-cut mouth. “Even when he didn’t want information from me,” she adds pointedly. Rhys tilts his head, a plate appearing out of thin air before him on the table along with cutlery and a napkin, “and who’s to say those weren’t gifts sent along from myself?” But Amren doesn’t fall for it, reaching for a glass of red wine, “You won’t fool me, boy.” Rhysand shrugs his shoulders, unbothered by her relaxed attitude. “I suppose if you were still of the inclination to accept bottles of lamb’s blood you’d be receiving a box’s worth. I have a request to make of you.”

Amren inclines her head, the black cut of her hair slicing along her sharp jaw, faint interest in her silver eyes, “Pray tell”.

Nesta casts salt and pepper over the plates of eggs and chives, then the two of them join the table. As Cassian departed before Nesta, he fills the seat to your right, while Nesta settles in the space opposite him, to Azriel’s left. The only way the current arrangement could be made worse is if Rhysand and Elain were to swap seats. You grimace internally and treasure her presence.

The High Lord inclines his head to Azriel whose shadows settle a map of Prythian to the centre of the kitchen table. “Cassian and Nesta have already checked through Helion’s libraries. That means excluding the Night Court, there are five other Courts to examine.” As he speaks, thin shadow seeps across the parchment to darken the land of Night and Day, signalling they’ve each been studied.

“Between us,” Rhysand continues, “we can split between those remaining Courts, in turn accessing their libraries. Where I’ll need your help, dear Amren, is translating the books we encounter in the Old Language. I would rather not have to take them all on myself.” Rhysand pauses, lifting violet eyes from the map to the slight female diagonal from his seat, “What do you say?”

Amren seems to consider his request and you have to fathom how respected she is to so idly take her time considering a request from a High Lord. A few beats pass as her grey eyes trace the island, then blood red lips are cutting into a grin, moon-white teeth flashing in her mouth, “I think I’m going to enjoy opening my Solstice presents this year.”

Rhysand smiles and you wonder if he was confident Amren would accept or whether this was a gamble on his part. Feyre would probably be able to tell.

Across from the High Lord, Mor clinks her glass with Amren’s, the two females grinning from the other side of the table. There’s a smile on Feyre’s face but you imagine it’s one of those ones that rather than being of your own choice is truly the result of the infectious kind of happiness—seeing people you love enjoying themselves.

From the other end of the table however, Nesta is studying the map, her silver eyes not even scanning the table before they’re finding Rhysand—suitably distanced from one another. “Five courts and seven of us. I would think you and Feyre would be remaining in the Night Court, leaving us with a court each,” Nesta points out, her tone verging on mild boredom. Steel glints in her hands as cutlery catches the light. “Do you intend for us each to cover the libraries of a court, or do you possess secret reinforcements on hand?”

The beat of pause that follows her inquiry stretches a fraction of a second longer than it normally would, the tensing as if preparing for a collision to occur as it always feels when those two acknowledge one another. But Rhysand inclines his head to his right and the tension dissipates as swiftly as it had gathered. “I wouldn’t call your sisters secrets,” he muses, slowly. “But yes: reinforcements.”

You blink.

From the stiffness of Elain’s shoulders you imagine this is news to her, too, which brings you some level of comfort. More comfort when Elain is the one who meets Rhysand’s gaze, asking, “scouring the libraries for—what?” The relief settles deep. This setting is mildly frightening as it is without the pressure of handling easily observable interactions with others.

Rhysand’s attention settles onto Elain but you get the strange feeling it’s somehow also extending to yourself, “I believe Lucien mentioned the matter of the Prison.” Violet eyes flick over to you. “And that Feyre offered an explanation of the situation last night?” You avoid an answer by diverting your own attention to Elain who is still watching the High Lord. She nods.

“Would you be willing to help?” Rhysand asks, without much preamble.

Help? Help how? If it means coming into contact with a single creature that’s supposed to be inside that Prison your answer has to be a firm no. If it means attempting to wield even an ounce of your magic that seems to be sucking the marrow from your bones every passing day your answer has to be a firm no. If it means-

Your thinking time comes to an end when Elain nods her head, and violet eyes once again flick past her onto yourself. Decision time.

You shift in your seat, unwilling to offer a definite answer, “If I can.”

The High Lord nods and again you wonder if it was a gamble in relying on your help. As Nesta pointed out, one each to a Court seems an impossible task. But how are two extras going to aid that task? You’d have to pair up, but there would still not be enough of you. This seems to be Rhysand’s next subject matter as he again nods to Azriel, shadows pulling the map closer to the centre of the table so all can see it. Besides you, Cassian’s torso blocks out light as he leans forward, wings casting shadow upon the floor as you each examine the map with new eyes.

“So who’s tasked with which Court?” The General asks, “And who’s taking a solo trip?”

Instinctively you’d imagine Azriel and Mor would be the two to travel solo—they seem to be the most suited to handling a task like this on their own, but what do you know?

“Well you certainly won’t be visiting Summer Court after obliterating that building,” Mor deadpans.

“It shouldn’t have been built there,” Cassian replies with a look of mischief.

Leaning closer, Nesta nods her head to the map, “I don’t think Spring Court is a good idea for Cassian and I. I could manage Tamlin but I threatened him the last time I saw him.” Cassian’s smile widens. You guess it makes sense those two would be a pair. “If Summer Court is off the table then we’ll take either Dawn Court or Autumn Court.”

Right.

Someone’s going to have to scour the Autumn Court.

Besides you, Elain clears her throat. “I could go to the Spring Court.” She shifts in her seat, nodding to the lower portion of fae-inhabited lands. “I’m sure if I asked, Lucien would be willing to accompany me, and we have an alliance with them, too. I don’t imagine the High Lord of Spring being a great threat to myself but he certainly won’t be to Lu.” It’s a surprisingly sound argument. But if Elain pairs with Lucien than means you’ll be either with Mor or Amren—unless you could remain here and help search any other books in the Night Court with Feyre.

Just as you’re about to offer the option however, Azriel speaks. “Are your ties with Viviane still sustaining, Mor?”

Mor nods her head though her smile fades almost imperceptibly.

The Shadowsinger nods. “If Mor handles the Winter Court, and Elain and Lucien take the Spring Court, that leaves Dawn, Summer, and Autumn between the rest of us.” Azriel’s shadows shift, further darkening the Courts now with assigned explorers. “Feyre and Rhysand will be staying here, taking care of ruling and the Illyrian texts?”

The High Lord nods his head, “I’ll be covering the Hewn City, too, and splitting any ancient books between Amren and myself. Feyre will be helping with newcomers.”

“And if Cassian and Nesta are planning to move together that leaves the Summer Court,” Azriel states, hazel eyes find your own set across the table, “which you and I will cover.”

You try to convince yourself the silence that passes over the table doesn’t stretch like you think it does.

Hazel eyes hold yours for a second longer before returning back to the map, the Summer Court now tentatively cast in shadow. “That means Cassian and Nesta can take either Dawn or Autumn, but one pair will have to take two courts.”

At your side, Elain fumbles. “She could come with me,” Elain pushes, “I’m sure she could help in Spring.”

“Or with me and Cassian,” Nesta presses.

“She could stay here,” Feyre adds, then turns to Rhysand. “Besides, the Summer Court libraries are part of the Old Temple they have which are deep in the jungle, aren’t they?” Her blue-grey eyes fall to the map, brows pinched, standing from her chair and Mor slides the map along so Feyre can jab her nail to the thick jungle of the Summer Court, an X marked in its middle. “Those jungles are dense, aren’t they,” Nesta adds, glancing to Cassian, a hard look on her face, “no flying overhead.”

“Which is why we should be the ones to go,” Azriel says, keeping calm but firm.

Nesta narrows her eyes, silver boring into the male at her side. “The creatures in that jungle are magical, like most of the beasts spread across Prythian. Not to mention poison and venom, and parasites in water streams unless you know which are fresh and safe to drink from. Even the beetles can be lethal, so unless you take a guide which may alert your presence in a foreign court, it will be too dangerous.”

“Then it’s perfect that she can tell the difference between the poisonous creatures and the harmless ones.”

Azriel holds Nesta’s gaze for a beat before turning to you. “You’ve read about the jungle haven’t you. About the creatures inside?”

You mentioned the spiders the other day.

“I can go with her instead,” Nesta says, eyes sharpening.

“You won’t be able to protect her as well as I can.” There’s no condescension in his statement, just fact. She’s learning from him and Cassian how to fight, after all. How to wield a blade.

Nesta’s eyes remain sharp, not straying a second from their target. The temperature seems to rise, air thickening. You swallow, tongue flicking out over dry lips, “I could tell them apart.”

“No. You already have a limited life-span; you aren’t shortening it any further,” Nesta says calmly, her eyes still piercing into Azriel. And yet it’s Elain who shifts again in her seat, sitting straighter, “If she says she can tell the difference, she can tell the difference.” Elain looks over to you, a small smile on her lips. “She’s the best one to send to the Summer Court.”

A muscle flickers in Nesta’s jaw, a few, heavy moments of tension weighing through the room that have your pulse spiking for no discernible reason. Then it ends, and Nesta looks back to the map. “So Cassian and I will take the Dawn Court and the Autumn Court.”

“You’ll only be taking the Dawn Court.” At the sound of Rhysand’s voice, Nesta’s eyes turn pure silver for a fraction of a second.

She arches a narrow brow, her expression sharper than an Illyrian blade. “So you’ll send Mor instead?” She asks, the hiss of slicing steel underlying her honed tone. “Or do you think you can get Lucien to squeeze his way back into his home-Court?” There’s a dangerous challenge in her silver eyes.

“Neither,” the High Lord answers, slowly. “Feyre, Amren, and I will remain here. Myself searching the libraries the priestess’ cannot cover, Amren for backup on the ancient texts, and Feyre with helping as we begin a slow evacuation of the towns surrounding the Prison as a precaution and preventative. Mor will cover Winter, Elain and Lucien will cover Spring, and you and Cassian will cover Dawn.”

Even Feyre’s looking at him strangely.

“The Summer Court boarders the Autumn Court,” Rhysand states. “We can’t afford to waste time making extra journeys.”

So you and Azriel will be taking both the Summer Court, and the Autumn Court.

Rhysand breaks his gaze with Nesta only to find your eyes further along the table. They’re steadfast. Grounded. “Will you manage that?”

Why put that decision on you?

You look across the table to Azriel—why had he of all people volunteered to pair up with you? His logic checks out, but wouldn’t Mor have been able to ward off any magical creatures? Then again, your relationship with Mor isn’t the best…

Azriel gives no clue to his emotions, other than a subtle incline of his head.

Your throat rolls, but you force yourself to look back at Rhysand, and offer a nod of your head, “I can manage.”

All seven Courts are ensconced in shadow.

————

You sigh as you settle into bed, tucking yourself close between the duvet and mattress. Plumping the pillow beneath your cheek as you curl your knees to your chest.

You’ll be leaving in three days, but bypassing a coastal town Northeast of Velaris. The condition of you entering the Summer Court jungle was you’d at least have some kind of protection other than Azriel. The sea-town is also the only town outside of Illyria that will sell Illyrian blades, and Illyrian leather from the wild oxen that inhabit the unforgiving terrain of the steppes, its hide significantly tougher to compete with the rocky climate and freezing nights.

You don’t like the idea of having to carry a blade of your own, but you suppose, knowing some of the creatures within, you’d rather be with it than without it. Although you’ve yet to decide whether you’ll be visiting Autumn first or Summer.

But that’s a decision for tomorrow.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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radishaur · 2 days

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༄ kind words ༄

Warnings: mentions of unwelcome advances in Law's part Genre: fluff Characters: Luffy, Zoro, & Law Summary: How they realize they have feelings for you (words of affirmation edition) Author's Note: It's finally here! These keep getting longer and longer as I get more familiar with each character and the dynamic, especially Law's, but I don't think that's too much of an issue. I also kind of hate Luffy's but couldn't keep redoing it, so maybe I'll edit it later. Happy reading as I begin working on the next part!

masterlist

Luffy is great at giving compliments because he just says whatever he's thinking.

He gets complimented a lot as well. He's always running around and saving people, intentionally or not, so he's probably heard his fair share of compliments. I think hearing a compliment that's more deep and genuine, that comes from someone who knows him deeply, would be more meaningful than anything and would make him recognize his feelings.

Not every day on the Sunny was a fun adventure.

Setting out to sail across the whole world and strive for their individual goals there was bound to be hardship. Sometimes it came in the form of grueling battles with their latest enemy. Other times it was internal conflicts or disputes, simple disagreements or heated arguments.

This time, it was grief.

After so many months traveling together, the crew had learned how to tell when one of them was upset about something and needed space. Today, it had been Nami. For the past few days, her mood had been off. She'd been more quick to anger and had spent more time than was strictly necessary tending to her orange trees. Then today, she'd been even worse, snapping at Sanji's normal overbearing lovey behavior and brooding to herself under the shade of her grove.

It didn't take him long to realize what was bothering her.

Nami only ever got like this when she was thinking about Bellemere, which meant today must be the anniversary of when everything happened. The crew had spent most of the day giving her her space, allowing her to process what she was very clearly feeling. After a while, he took it upon himself to cheer her up. He made silly faces and played some of her favorite games on the deck, goading her into joining them by making bets he knew he would lose. He'd even secretly asked Sanji to incorporate oranges into their dinner. By the end of the night, Nami was laughing and she seemed a lot lighter, like whatever was weighing her down had lessened some.

Now, it was late at night, and the only sounds that could be heard on the Sunny were the lapping of waves against the ship and the snores of his crew as they slept. All except for him.

Sleep was avoiding him, so he decided that he would be much better off just joining whoever was on watch and maybe having some fun. He made his way up to the crow's nest and was happy to find you sitting on the bench, looking out across the sea.

"Oh, hi Luffy," you said, your voice quiet.

"Hi!" he said, sitting excitedly next to you on the bench as you looked out across the sea once more. "I couldn't sleep so I decided to come out and have some fun!"

You smiled, always amused by his antics.

"Well, unfortunately, there's no fun here. I'm on watch, remember?"

He pouted, knowing you were right but still disappointed anyways. You laughed at him as he whined and complained, but he didn't actually intend on distracting you, so after a while, he quieted down and let you focus.

"I hope Nami is feeling better," you said, resting your head on the arm you propped up on the window. You were frowning slightly, your eyes unfocused as your worry made itself visible on your face.

"She'll be ok, she's Nami! She's strong," he replied, no doubt in his mind that tomorrow she would be the same old Nami she had always been. "She might be sad now, but it's not forever. She has us to help her."

You hummed in agreement, a small smile on your face. He smiled himself, happy to see you smiling instead of with a frown on your face. He felt so lucky to have found a group who cared so deeply about each other.

"All that stuff you did today. It was to cheer her up, wasn't it."

You said it like a statement more than a question and he found himself smiling at how observant you were. "You figured it out. You're so smart!"

You laughed at him once again, his own laughter joining you as you said, "Of course I did. I know you wouldn't have made those bets under normal circumstances."

They had been stupidly dumb bets that left no chance for him to win and he found himself giggling as he remembered how Nami had perked up upon hearing him agree to them. He loved his crew more than anything, so what was a few beri down the drain? Your laughter subsided as you got lost in thought once more. You seemed like you were debating saying something and when you seemed to have made up your mind, he found himself sitting up straighter as you turned to look at him.

"You're a lot smarter than people give you credit for," you said, a small smile on your face and a playful admiration in your eyes.

He's not quite sure what to say to that. He's always been called stupid and to everyone's credit, he is. He doesn't think very often, preferring to act on instinct and figure out the rest of the plan later. He's been known to not read the room, to zone out during important world lessons, and to shout out the first thing that comes to mind. He doesn't think anyone has ever called him smart and for the first time in maybe his whole life, he's speechless.

"I guess that's probably not what you were expecting me to say, huh?" you teased, a light smile making its way onto your face.

He collects himself and asks, slightly incredulously, the question that's first in his mind. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, you just told me you did all that stuff to cheer Nami up, right? Someone stupid wouldn't be able to put together why she was upset and what would make her feel better. You pay attention when it counts and you're a lot more emotionally intelligent than people realize," you explain, relaxing slightly as you look out at the ocean once more. "Today it was Nami, but I've watched you help lots of people like that. Vivi, Robin, Sanji, even me. Maybe you don't say it out loud, but you pick up on people's emotions and what they need the most in that moment."

He listens as you talk and slowly realizes that you're right. He's always had a way of reading people and knowing what they really want or need, but he's never really connected it to intelligence. He always thought it was just his own special kind of stupid.

"I guess that makes me a genius!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily as your eyes widened in shock before laughing along with him.

"Maybe you are stupid after all," you say, but there's no malice in the words as you keep laughing at him.

Finally, your watch shift is over and the sun peeks up over the horizon. He'd stayed with you the entire time, just talking and goofing around until he realized how much time had passed and how tired he was. His dreams that night are filled with you and when he wakes up, your words are still floating around in his mind. Knowing that you think he's smart makes him feel funny and he thinks that maybe he should finally turn his ability to recognize people's feelings inward.

Zoro doesn't throw out compliments or encouragement left and right, he only says something if he really means it.

I think he's received his fair share of compliments, although I doubt he puts much stock in them unless they come from someone he respects. If he doesn't think there's any stock in the compliment, or on that same token an insult, why bother giving it attention? For this reason, I think getting a compliment or reassurance from you would rattle him a little and cause him to have an aha moment.

The town that the Sunny docked in isn't too interesting to Zoro, aside from the bar he's nestled into for the past few hours. He has a few empty glasses in front of him and he's almost done with his current one when he sees the door open.

He's not surprised when he sees multiple of the crew walk in, quickly noticing him in the corner and making their way to him. You're among them, talking to Robin about something that elicits a small laugh out of her. Begrudgingly, he scoots over and makes room for everyone in his booth as they smoosh in.

"I knew we'd find you here!" you say, the last to slide in so you're right across from him. "Already deep into your drinks, as expected."

"Shut it, woman," he grumbles, his brows furrowing as he finishes his drink and sets the cup down on the table. You laugh, looking at Robin as Usopp reluctantly hands Nami some beri. He feels his eye twitch in irritation as he notices the exchange. "Are you betting on me?"

Usopp gulps at the glare he sends his way and Nami simply smiles, dollar signs practically lighting up in her eyes as she answers, "Yep! I bet that you were already 3 drinks deep and I was right."

"We've barely even arrived! I thought-" Usopp protests, attempting to explain himself.

"You both are insufferable!"

His exclamation elicits another laugh out of you as Robin simply lifts a hand to her mouth to hide the amusement that is no doubt there. He wants to be annoyed, and he is, but he's been traveling with the lot of you for long enough that he can't really be upset, at least that genuinely. He simply huffs, waving down a server to ask for another glass.

The rest leap over each other to order their own drinks, some alcoholic, some not, and fall into easy chatter with each other. Periodically, he catches your eyes and you send him a smile, but he doesn't insert himself in the conversations, much preferring to listen. Eventually, Nami gets tired of just sitting in the bar and decides to go shopping. Usopp and Robin decide to accompany her, but you decide to stay behind. You wave, watching them go as he takes his previous spot in the booth back.

"Not in the shopping mood?" he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

"No, I'd much rather stay here with my favorite swordsman," you tease. He bristles, knowing that you're just poking him for fun, but he can't stop himself from blushing, taking a long sip from his glass to hide the blush he can feel on his cheeks.

"You're worse than that damn cook," he mumbles, his glass now sufficiently empty.

You laugh at that.

"Now that's just a lie."

He can't deny that, the corner of his lips twisting up into a smile. He's spent enough time traveling with you to know that you don't act like that with everyone, just him. The notion that you reserve this behavior for just him is both agitating and yet satisfying. He feels something possessive lick at his heart but ignores it, waving at the server for yet another drink.

He asks you about what you've been up to on the island since they docked and you happily tell him all about it. It hasn't been long so you don't have much to say and it isn't long before the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. After a while, you finally talk again and it's not what he's expecting.

"I know you'll become the greatest swordsman, Zoro."

He sputters, the sip he was taking spilling all over himself as he coughs, trying to catch his breath. He can feel his ears heating up with embarrassment and sputters, "Where the hell did that come from?"

When you look at him, your face is set in firm determination, but your eyes are soft, filled with a fondness he wishes you would direct at him more often.

"Those pirates we fought yesterday," you explain.

He thinks for a moment before he's reminded of what you're referring to. On their way to this island, they had run into a rival ship following the same course. While they hadn't intended to battle them, the ship fired at them as soon as they were in range, so they had no other choice. He remembers the fight being fairly easy, each member of the crew handling their fair share of pirates.

He also remembers one of their crew having some rather nasty words to say to him.

"You're delusional if you think you can become the greatest swordsman," he had spat, struggling to breathe. "You'll see it eventually. Even if you won this battle, you'll never achieve your dream."

He hadn't paid much attention to the words. He was confident in his own abilities and his opponent had been defeated easily, so there wasn't any point in taking his words to heart. He hadn't thought anyone was close enough to hear it and he certainly hadn't brought it up, quickly forgetting about it.

He smirked then, letting the full force of his pride show in the grin as he said, "That loser wouldn't know what it takes to be the greatest swordsman even if it smacked him in the face."

"That doesn't make any sense," you say, your face wrinkling as you giggle at his statement.

He takes another sip as your laughter dies out.

"I'm not worried about what a crap swordsman has to say about me and my dream," he says, his voice a lot more serious now as he thinks about the promise he made all those years ago. "I will become the world's greatest swordsman or die trying."

"You'll do it. I know you will."

You don't say anything after that, seemingly having said everything you intended to, but your words linger with him. The thought that you had heard the man's words and felt it was important enough to dispute them made his heart feel weird. He had never doubted himself, even when he maybe should have. He'd always been sure that his will, determination, and hard work would take him to exactly where he was supposed to be. Still, hearing your words of encouragement, hearing your genuine belief in his ability, it affected him in a way he wasn't expecting.

"You will too," he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

A few seconds go by where you don't say anything and he wonders if you'd even heard him, but one glance at you tells him that you had. You're not looking at him, your eyes averted as if you're embarrassed and your lips are curved into a small, satisfied smile. The sight makes his heart stop and he almost goes to clutch his chest before the feeling quickly passes.

Before the moment can linger, you're shooting back into conversation with him. Despite his best efforts to pay attention, he finds that his attention is drawn back again and again to your words. He knows that the crew believes in his dreams just as much as he believes in theirs. It's part of why he's so willing to protect their dreams just as fiercely as his own, but for some reason knowing that you believe in him so much really sticks with him.

He thinks about it for the rest of the day as well as late into the night when they're all back on the Sunny and setting off for the next island. He doesn't like being distracted, so he mulls over why your compliment holds so much weight for him. He values your opinion, but you're also not a swordsman, so theoretically there shouldn't be that much weight to your words. When he finally realizes, it feels like everything clicks into place and so many things start to make sense.

He acts like nothing has changed, wanting time to sit with the feelings before he decides what to do about them, but he finds it hard now that he understands the full weight of his regard for you.

Law rarely ever gives out compliments, rather preferring to show how he feels with his actions.

I think he receives a few compliments here and there, but he's built an intimidating presence and image, so I think they're far and few between. However, I think if you took him off guard with a meaningful compliment, especially if its one that he hasn't heard before, it would make him start to think about his feelings towards you.

"Captain, we have a problem."

Law sighs, all of the worst-case scenarios running through his mind as he turns to face Sachi. They're docked at a port town so that they can restock the Polar Tang, preparing for another few weeks underwater. It's familiar and something that the crew should be familiar with by this point. They have a routine, a schedule that rarely changes, that details who goes with who to go get what. In theory, it should go perfectly smoothly.

It never does.

"What is it, Sachi?" he asks, his grip on Kikoku tightening slightly as Sachi walks up to him with the list of crewmates and jobs in hand.

"Well, you said that nobody is allowed to go alone into town right? For safety?" he asks, only resuming once Law has hummed in agreement. "Right, well uh, unfortunately, Penguin is sick today which means his partner doesn't have anyone to go with, which wouldn't be an issue since usually we have at least one group of three but, well, they're also sick so-"

Law grumbles under his breath about getting to the damn point, grabbing the sheet from Sachi's hands to just look at the issue himself. Sachi gulps, sensing his irritation, and nervously rubs the back of his neck. The problem becomes clear very easily. His beloved crew had partied a little too hard the last few nights and now two of them were sick, leaving no group of three to split up and someone unaccompanied. He looks for Penguin's name to see who's alone and feels his heart flutter slightly when he sees your name scrawled out next to it.

"Our only two options are to either make one group get two things, which would set us back at least an hour, or...," Sachi says, trailing off slightly. The unspoken second option is clear. Law always spend their restock days on the ship. The higher his bounty gets, the higher the chance that he gets recognized, so he always finds it easier and safer for him to stay behind.

"I'll go," he relents, watching as the tension in Sachi's shoulders dissipates.

"Great. Thanks, Captain!"

Sachi disappears before he can change his mind. He sighs, looking around the collection of his crew until he finally finds you in the mix. He makes his way over, watching as you converse with Bepo, catching the very end of your sentence.

"-seems like I'll be alone today. Sachi said he would look into it, but everyone already has their pairs so I don't know who could take his place."

"That would be me," he answers, watching as both Bepo and you finally notice his approach.

"Oh! Uh, are you sure? Don't you usually spend the day on the Tang doing research?" you ask.

He ignores your improper name for the Polar Tang as he explains the situation to you. You nod, smiling as you say, "I see. Well, I'm glad to have your company then, Captain!"

He's taken aback by your words but decides to just move forward instead of dwelling on them, so he turns around and shouts, "Let's go."

"Shouldn't you probably change?"

He stops, looking down at his attire as you add, "As much as it suits you, it doesn't really hide the fact that you're a pirate, let alone our Captain."

He can't really argue with that. The Heart Pirates logo is front and center on his shirt and Kikaku is certainly not doing him any favors either. He tells you to wait and then quickly shambles himself into his room to change. He has to dig really deep in his closet before he finds a shirt that doesn't have his symbol front and center, but once he does he leaves Kikaku leaning against his wall and shambles back up to you.

By the time he's changed and came back, most of his crew is gone. You're quicker to notice him this time as a result and the two of you finally head into town.

"What are we in charge of?" he asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets now that they're not holding his sword.

"We're in charge of the medicinal herbs, Captain," you answer.

"Just Law is fine," he says, his hand fidgeting slightly as he adds, "No use in me changing if you're just going to use my title."

He sees you smile softly out of the corner of his eyes. "Right. Law it is, then."

His ears burn slightly as you say his name so effortlessly, but he brushes it off quickly and continues into town. It's not hard to find the store you're looking for and he lets you take the lead as you begin listing off the various herbs you need. It's not long before the two of you are walking through town once more, heading towards the submarine.

"Oh, look! That art is gorgeous."

He stops walking as he turns to look at what you're pointing at. There's a small stall in the marketplace's square that's selling paintings of all different sizes and mediums. He sees your eyes light up as you look at them and isn't surprised when you say, "Wait here, I'm going to go buy one."

He huffs, leaning against the wall of a nearby building where he can see the stall. He'd like to pretend that today had purely been an inconvenience, but he can't find it in himself to be that upset. While it was inconvenient that he wasn't able to spend the time studying the most recent medical book he had been interested in, the day had been pleasant. You'd made pleasant conversation with him while walking in town and your bright demeanor always seems to calm him down.

He looks back over to the stall, curious about what painting had caught your eyes, but feels his heart jolt when he doesn't see any sign of you. He stands up to his full height, hoping to catch any glimpse of you, but he still doesn't see anything. He curses to himself for letting his guard down and allowing you to somehow slip away and starts searching for you with his observation haki.

He picks up your signature in an alleyway and feels his gut churning. Not wanting to draw attention to himself by using his devil fruit powers, he quickly makes his way to where you are. As he gets closer, he hears you pleading with someone.

"Look, I'm really not interested and I have someone waiting for me, so-"

"Surely I can show you a better time than them, hm?"

He doesn't recognize the second voice but he doesn't need to to know what's going on. He feels anger burn in him as he finally turns a corner and sees a guy caging your body against the wall with both of his arms.

"I already told you, I'm not looking for that. Please let me go," you say, your hands clutching the bag of herbs you'd bought earlier as well as what looks to be whatever painting you had bought at the stall. He also sees the man take a step closer and open his mouth to talk, so he takes the opportunity to interrupt.

"You heard them," he says, his voice like venom as he enunciates, "Let them go."

The man looks at him, sizing him up as he takes a step back and lets his arms drop. "What are you, a good samaritan? Buzz off," he scoffs, turning his head back to you, clearly intending to ignore him.

He doesn't know what comes over him as he finds himself stepping closer and punching the man square on the side of his face. The man, clearly caught off guard, stumbles slightly. He doesn't give him any time to recover as he steps forward, putting himself in between you and the man whose face was now swelling up.

"What the hell?" he shouts, cradling his face as he finally catches his balance.

He can see the punch coming but knows that you're standing right behind him, so he only shifts slightly so that the punch only hits him in the shoulder. A moment afterward, it dawns on him that he can just get rid of the man, so he does.

"You're lucky I don't have my sword, or you'd be getting much worse than this," he seethes, holding his hand out as he says his classic phrase and sends the man shambling into the ocean. In his place, a mossy stone drops to the ground, echoing in the now almost empty alleyway.

When he turns around, you're staring at him speechless. He frowns slightly as he gives you a once over, checking for any visible signs of harm.

"I'm ok," you finally say, your voice shaky before you cough slightly and repeat, voice calm, "I'm ok. Just unnerved."

He doesn't take his chances and calls another room, switching you both closer to the Polar Tang. His guilt at letting you out of his sight and allowing this guy to drag you off eats at him as the two of you approach the ship. Once inside, he shambles the two of you to his examination room, pointing to the table and saying, "Sit. I want to check for injuries with the proper equipment."

You don't fight him as you make your way towards the table. You're still holding the bag and the painting until he gently takes them from you, placing them next to you on the table.

"I'm really ok La- I mean Captain," you begin, correcting yourself back to his title now that it's just the two of you.

He finds himself missing his name from you but keeps the comment to himself. He's supposed to be checking you for injuries. He's supposed to be assessing your well-being, which is only in question because of his own negligence. He frowns to himself and continues to check you for injuries without answering.

You let him, still assuring him that you're fine, that he only grabbed your arm for a moment at the stall, but he doesn't stop until he's sure that there's nothing wrong.

He sighs, finally stepping back from the table. His guilt still eats at him regardless as he goes over everything he did wrong. "I'm sorry, I should have been watching more carefully. No, I should have just come with you."

You simply smile at him in response and say, "It's my fault. I was the one who stepped away."

He doesn't have anything to say to that. He knows it's true, you did step away despite it being an explicit rule not to, but he can't deny his part in it as well. He curls his fists as the silence continues.

"Why didn't you dodge his punch?" you ask, your voice quiet.

He's surprised by the question, but also by how quickly his cheeks warm up at his answer. He looks off to the side, hiding behind his hat as he says, "You were right behind me. If I moved, he would have just punched you."

You have the audacity to laugh, loud and full as if he had just told you the funniest joke you'd ever heard and he can't help but scowl.

"You know," you start, laughter still floating in your voice, "For someone with such a cold exterior, you sure are kind."

The compliment catches him off guard. His face whips towards you as his eyes open in shock, the faint blush now burning bright red across his whole face. He meets your eyes and he doesn't see any hint of a joke.

He's heard himself called a lot of things. Scary, cold, bitter, even downright malicious, but never kind. It sends shivers up his spine as the word settles somewhere under his skin. You think he's kind. Kind.

"You're my subordinate. I'm not being kind, I'm just doing my job as your Captain," he corrects, not wanting you to misunderstand his intentions.

Your laugh this time is softer, more full of fondness, but it rustles him all the same. "You really are kind though," you insist. He's not ready for you to continue, barely able to handle the few words you've said, but that's never stopped you before. "I think you care a lot more than you want us to think. You wouldn't worry so much otherwise. Besides, you're always going out of your way to protect us. I think that makes you kind."

He doesn't know what to say, so he tries to navigate back into familiar territory. He takes a deep breath and calms his nerves, grabbing the bag of medical herbs from your side and turning around to begin putting them away. "Well, since I've checked and you don't have any injuries, there's no reason for you to stay."

He hears you shuffling around as he begins unpacking the herbs from the bag and chances a glance over at you one more time. He regrets it immediately.

You're looking at him like you can see right through him. You have your painting tucked under your arm as you look over your shoulder at him in the doorway and you're still smiling at him as if he didn't just ignore your comment and dismiss you rather rudely. It makes his heart ache, wanting to prove you right. To prove that he is kind, that he's worthy of your opinion of him, that he's worthy of your praise.

"Thank you, Captain. I enjoyed your company today."

With that, you disappear down the hallway, presumably back to your shared room to hang up your new picture. He stares at the spot you left long after you've gone, your words echoing in his mind. They rattle around in his heart until they finally settle, leaving a warm comfort he didn't know he craved.

You think he's kind.

That thought plagues his mind for the rest of the day. His guilt is completely forgotten, his mind too consumed by your compliment to make any room for it. He finds himself unable to even focus on reading the medical book that night that he missed out on reading earlier. Your words and the simple fact that you truly believed them chip away at his resolve until he finally has to come to terms with why it affects him so much. He mumbles your name, his hand clutching his heart as it beats, solidifying what he'd been ignoring for a long, long time now.

ღ radishaur — i do not own any of these characters. do not plagiarize. please enjoy and remember to be respectful!

#luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #radishaur writes

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writeonwhiskey · 3 days

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the skz house: ch 25

a/n: ahhhh we're back, baby! i am so excited to get the final completed chapters out to you all. thank you to @bahablastplz for editing!

[ read chapter 24 here ]

Chapter Twenty-Five: Of Popcorn and Reuniting

I need some time.

Can we talk on Monday?

You type out and delete several variations of your text to Chan before finally hitting send on the ride home. You considered acquiescing to his request, but you know how it would end; with you in his arms, then bent over as he fucks all his love into you. You want to kiss him, touch him, to feel him inside of you after what he so succinctly confessed with that rose and card. He wants you. He would choose you.

You want to roll down the windows and scream into the night at the top of your lungs. You contain yourself, though. You suppress the giddy feeling each time it arises, keeping it at bay with reasonable logic: you cannot let him choose you.

It pains you to even think that. Especially when you can see how much he is trying…the effort he’s putting forth is not lost on you. You know how out of his comfort zone he must be, and it feels utterly shitty to shut down his attempts and potentially lose all the progress you’ve made with him.

Of course it moves you, knowing he would throw aside everything for you, but now is when you need to be stronger than him. You have to give yourself time to prepare for this conversation—you know it won’t be easy. Waiting to speak to him on Monday will give you that time. It’s always easier to process your thoughts when you’re not in his intoxicating presence. And anyways, if his feelings are as strong as he’s saying, a few days of waiting shouldn’t deter them.

Over the next few days, you spend most of your spare time sorting through your thoughts and feelings surrounding the Chan debacle, and whenever it feels too overwhelming you can turn to Changbin for a distraction. He’s good for that. However, you’ve learned enough about Aristotle and his belief in moral virtues to last a lifetime. You spend the final Saturday of the rotation with him, staying up and talking about whatever crosses either of your minds.

He jokingly suggests taking things further since this is your last chance. In truth, after the consistent sex you were getting with Hyunjin and Chan, your body is aching for it, but you politely turn him down. You know it’s not aching for him in particular.

On Sunday the house is once again abuzz as everyone shuffles their belongings back to their proper rooms. Chan is, to your surprise, still fast asleep around noon when you take your sheets and clothes back to his room. You quietly make your bed and put your clothes aways before retrieving your stuff from Seungmin’s room and taking it to Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin is seated at his desk with his headphones on, scribbling away on his sketchpad when you enter. Your hands are full of your blankets and a bag of your clothes is slung over your shoulder. His wide, dazzling smile greets you when the door swings open and you feel like an invisible weight is instantly lifted.

“Welcome back,” he says, standing to help you with all that you’re carrying.

He takes the blankets from you and tosses them onto your bed. You take the bag off your shoulder and set it on the ground as he turns back around to face you. He opens his arms to you and you take a few small steps forward into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his slender waist, squeezing tightly.

“Jagiya,” he whispers against the top of your head.

“I missed this,” you tell him.

As safe as you felt with Changbin and Seungmin, it doesn’t hold a flame to what you feel with Hyunjin. In the near-constant emotional storm you have felt during your time at the SKZ house, he has always been your saving grace. The only thing that keeps you grounded in the chaos.

You feel somewhat bad about it, though—he’s always the shoulder that you lean and cry on, and none of it has ever been because of his actions. It’s always something else. Always Chan. You could release the floodgates and cry right now, hugged up to him, but you don’t want to do that. It’s not fair to him, always having to pick up the pieces.

“Me too,” he agrees.

When you finally step away from the embrace, you motion to the work on his desk.

“Don’t let me distract you.”

He looks down at you and cups your face in his hands. He looks over your face and you wish you didn’t feel so transparent in front of him. He knows. How could he not? You scrunch up your face and shake your head, pushing the tears and sad thoughts aside. Not today. Not on your first day back with him.

He arches an eyebrow in response, but you continue shaking your head defiantly.

“Fine.” he says.

He squeezes your cheeks together, forcing your lips into a fish shape, and kisses them. You can’t help but laugh and swat him away, making him laugh too as he holds his arms up to block your attack.

Maybe it’s not right to push everything down and pretend you’re okay—that nothing has happened to send you into a tailspin. But with Hyunjin…it doesn’t feel like pretending. He genuinely makes you forget that any strife in the world exists when you’re with him.

“Can we get out of the house later?”

“Sure. What do you want to do?” he asks, sitting back at his desk as you start to put the sheets on your bed.

“Anything, really,” you shrug.

He gives you a reassuring nod and smile before turning back to his sketchbook. He starts to put his headphones back on, then stops. He picks up the Bluetooth speaker on his desk and powers it on. Within seconds, ‘Ghost’ by Mystery Skulls starts blaring throughout the room as you get your things situated and he focuses back on his drawing.

You catch yourself dancing around to the song as you tidy up. When you lock eyes with him, he’s vibing to it as well and you both smile and giggle.

It’s distractingly loud and peaceful in here with him.

Later in the afternoon, the cloudy sky and light drizzle makes it difficult for you and Hyunjin to choose something to do. You both eventually settle on going to see a movie, but it takes another thirty minutes after that to decide what to watch. Hyunjin picks a film called Miller’s Girl, and buys the tickets from his phone. You grab a warm blanket then you both head out.

The theatre is one of the upgraded kinds with large, reclining seats. You get popcorn and drinks before going into the designated room. It’s just the two of you, but you assume others will show up at some point. However, when the previews finish and the movie starts, no one else has come.

“Got the whole place to ourselves,” you remark.

“Come here, then,” he says, taking the popcorn from you and reaching for your hand.

You let him pull you up and over the large armrest separating your seats, bringing your blanket with you. He holds the popcorn out of the way as you get comfortable and spread the blanket out, so it covers both of you. He drapes an arm around your shoulder, holding you against him.

Since you’re alone, you’re both free to talk without fear of annoying anyone. The film is quite interesting—very poetic, which Hyunjin seems to take a liking to. Eventually, your mind starts to stray from the plot, focusing more on how close you are to him…and how long it’s been since you touched him. You slide your left hand under the blanket and onto his thigh. You can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye. You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling and remain facing the screen.

He moves the popcorn from his lap and puts it on the empty seat next to him.

“Do you remember what happened last time we went out to watch a movie?” you ask playfully as your hand glides over his cock, above his jeans.

“I have a faint memory,” he replies.

“Just a faint one?” you turn to face him.

He leans forward and captures your lips in one fell swoop. You kiss him back, relishing the familiar feeling of his soft, plump lips against yours. The taste is a little salty and buttery, but good. You feel his cock twitch against your hand and take that as an invitation to unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper.

He breaks the kiss and reclines the chair a little more, allowing you better access to him. You bring your hand up to your mouth and spit in it before slipping it back beneath the blanket to wrap around his cock. It pulses in your tight grip as you start to stroke him slowly.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Let me touch you, too.”

“No,” you shake your head, stroking him faster.

“But I want to feel you.”

“You will later.”

You hear him smack his lips as he rests his head against the chair. He rocks his hips upwards while you continue stroking him. You’re tempted to toss the blanket aside so you can see him, take him in your mouth and then fuck him. You’ll be patient, though. You just want to please him right now.

“Y/n,” he whispers. “I can’t—where am I gonna—?”

You feel his stomach muscles start to convulse as he attempts to hold off his release. You hadn’t thought that part through, and you don’t have much time to come up with a plan. You lift the blanket and duck your head beneath it, quickly taking him in your mouth.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he pants.

You move your hand and mouth in tandem along his cock as he starts to come. You feel his hand grip the back of your neck trying to keep you still, but you keep moving, taking in every last drop.

When he stops shaking you swallow and lift your head from the blanket. With his hand still on your neck he brings you to him again, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on you.

You break the kiss this time, smiling at him as you pull away. He throws himself back against the chair, breathing heavily.

“What are we even watching?” he jokes.

You zip and button his pants back up before snuggling into his side again.

When the movie is over, he practically pulls you out of the theatre, through the lobby and to the exit doors. You can see through the glass doors right away—the light drizzle has turned into an all-out downpour. You plant your feet to stop him from pulling you outside.

“We’re gonna get drenched, Hyunjin,” you tell him, shaking your head.

He turns to face you, eyebrow arched, “You don’t like getting wet anymore? What did Seungmin and Changbin do to you?”

You slap him on the arm and roll your eyes.

“Come on, we can’t stay in here forever,” he coaxes.

“Okay, okay,” you agree with a sigh.

He pushes on the door and looks back at you once more. You nod for him to continue. He opens the door completely and you both make a mad dash for the car. When you’re halfway there, though, Hyunjin abruptly stops this time. You try to tug on his hand to get him to the car, but he doesn’t budge.

“Hyunjin, move your feet!”

He shakes his head and uses your intertwined hands to bring you to him. He rests his hands on your hips as he leans down to kiss you. The rain is coming down over both of you. Your hair, clothes, everything is completely drenched and it’s not even warm rain, it’s fucking freezing. But none of those concerns are the most pressing thing on your mind right now. While kissing him and getting cleansed by the rain, it feels like time is standing still. You’re so enraptured in this moment with him, that all else fades away.

In celebration of rotations ending, the grill is fired up in the backyard that night. It’s still a bit cold out and damp, but nothing like it was on New Year’s. You and the other girls work on side dishes in the kitchen while the boys cook up the meat. Through the back door you can see Chan manning the grill while the others mostly just sit around and watch—Lee Know helps occasionally.

“Anyone else happy things are going back to normal?” Charlotte asks.

All of you nod your heads.

“As great as Jeongin and Han are, I kind of missed Seungmin and Changbin,” Rhiannon admits.

“You’re one of our bravest soldiers, dealing with those two,” you tell her with a laugh.

“They really are a handful, aren’t they?”

“Their intentions are good, at least,” you tell her to which she nods her agreement.

“Y/n, can you bring the steak out here? And grab a plate to bring some of this other meat in.”

You’re surprised to see Chan’s head peeking through the partially opened sliding back door. A familiar erratic heartbeat returns.

“He wants you to grab his meat—he must have really missed you,” Allie teases.

The other girls laugh with her. They know nothing of the tension you’re feeling right now. You force a small smile and attempt a chuckle, but it sounds strained. You step past Charlotte at the stove and retrieve the meat from the fridge, then head to the backyard. You hand Chan the empty Pyrex dish first and he starts piling the cooked meat onto it.

“You okay?” he asks gently.

You nod.

“So, you’re not staying with me tonight, then?”

You shake your head in response to his question.

He sets the plate of cooked meat next to the grill, as you hold the tray of steak. You expected him to take the tray, but instead he takes each piece of meat off individually as you hold it.

“Did you lose your voice while you were away?”

“No,” you reply softly.

He takes the last piece of steak from the tray, but his eyes are on you the entire time. When you finally meet his gaze, you see a glimmer of something there…worry perhaps, as he watches you. It’s not your intention to be cold towards him right now, you’re just caught off guard by this interaction.

“We’ll talk more Monday,” you tell him. “I promise.”

“Do you miss me?” he asks, handing you the Pyrex dish of cooked meats.

“Of course I do.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips hearing that.

Since you and Hyunjin already showered, after coming home wet from the rain, you change into your pajamas and brush your teeth when dinner is over, then meet Hyunjin in his room. He’s already laying in bed, beneath the blanket without a shirt on. His eyes are focused on his phone when you enter, but he immediately tosses it to the side and smiles when he sees you.

“Finally,” he says, still grinning.

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask, feigning innocence.

You place your dirty clothes into your shared laundry basket before crawling onto his bed.

“Yeah. For two long weeks,” he tells you, pulling you to him as soon as you’re within reach.

“And what were you expecting to happen?”

You’re laying across his body at an angle, arms folded on top of his bare chest.

“Oh, you know…nothing in particular,” he says, his hand already slipping beneath your shirt to caress your back.

“Good. Because it’s shark week.”

He furrows his brow at that.

“It shouldn’t be until next week?”

You crack a smile—so he has kept track on the app you shared with him.

Seeing your reaction, he quickly flips over so that he’s on top of you.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He whispers into your ear before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. “Knowing how much I’ve wanted you.”

“I thought it was a little funny,” you shrug.

“Not even a little bit,” he says, pushing your shirt up above your breasts.

As soon as your nipples are exposed, his mouth is on them. Taking in one, sucking and circling it with his tongue, then the other. He kisses between your breasts, then down your stomach, past your navel. When he makes it to your shorts, he doesn’t even bother pulling them down. He yanks them to the side, peeking up at you when he realizes you’re not wearing any underwear.

“Just as pretty as I remember,” he says, returning his attention to your pussy and kissing around your folds.

You want to lean back on the pillows for comfort and close your eyes to enjoy the feeling, but you also want to keep watching him. You’ve missed the sight of him between your legs.

He sticks his tongue out and delivers a hard and slow lick up your slit before blowing cool air over it. A shiver courses through you, and you thrust your hips up towards his mouth, but he moves away.

You assume there will be more teasing to follow, but he dives straight back in, covering your pussy with his mouth. He alternates swirling his tongue around your clit and fucking you with it. You finally throw your head back against the pillow and get lost in the sound of him sucking and slurping you up. You grip the sheets with your hands, still attempting to rock your hips against his face.

He pulls away to readjust himself so he can use his other hand on you. He slides his fingers through your slick to coat them before pushing them inside of you. His heated gaze meets yours as he fingers you and you smile up at him lazily, lustfully, and adoringly at all once.

You beckon him towards you with a curl of your finger and he obliges, leaning down over you with his fingers still pumping in and out. You spread your legs a little further apart to accommodate him on top of you and wrap your arms around his neck. You pull him down to you and taste yourself on him as his tongue invades your mouth.

He applies pressure to your clit with his thumb, causing you to moan.

“I need you to fuck me, Hyunjin,” you pant between kisses.

“Not yet,” he replies. “I want two from you tonight.”

He moves back, sitting on his legs. You can see the determination in his eyes as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His other hand cups your breast, kneading it and pinching your nipple.

“Can you do two for me, jagiya?”

You nod your head, unable to speak.

He readjusts himself again and you’ve never been so thankful for his long limbs and dexterity. He keeps one hand on your breast, the other is thrusting three fingers in and out of you, and then his mouth is on your clit again to bring you to the edge.

Your hands fly to his head, tangling themselves in his dark hair. You’re pulling on the strands while simultaneously pushing his face harder against your rocking hips.

“There she is,” he chuckles, his mouth rubbing against you as he speaks. “Come on my fingers.”

He latches back onto your clit, sucking it rhythmically. You grit your teeth and moan, arching your back as you come on his fingers.

The waves of your orgasm continue even as he withdraws his fingers and puts them in his mouth to lick clean. You watch him in a haze. Your legs are still shaking when he finally pulls your pajama shorts down. You’re trying to catch your breath as he removes his boxers, but there’s hardly any time before he’s thrusting his hard cock in your pussy.

“Oh, fuck, Hyunjin,” you cry out.

“I want two,” he says again.

He hooks your legs on his shoulders and grips your thighs for leverage as he fucks you. He angles his hips, allowing his cock to touch your most sensitive spot with each thrust.

“You feel so good, jagi,” he coaxes. “So fucking tight. So wet.”

He’s bearing a mischievous smile as he looks down at you. He knows what he’s doing to you—with his body, with his words. He knows you won’t last long like this.

Hell, even just looking at the consistent flexing of his abdomen as he fucks you just about does you in.

“I want to be on top,” you tell him, placing your hands on his chest to halt his movements.

You let your legs fall from his shoulders and he rolls over so he’s laying down and you’re on top of him without needing to pull out. You plant your feet firmly on the bed and start to bounce up and down on his cock. He lets out a groan and brings his hands to your hips, gripping them.

His eyes move from your face to your bouncing tits, down to where your bodies are connected. Feeling like the object of his desire is a feeling you’ll never get tired of. You can see it on his face—he likes this. He likes fucking you, pleasing you.

And with him, it’s easy. There aren’t any buried emotions to deal with. You can just enjoy the way you make each other feel. These moments you share with him; you can truly understand what the purpose of the SKZ house is. It’s a system that can work when other feelings don’t get in the way. The type of feelings that have brought you and Chan to an impasse.

You don’t realize your thoughts have drifted so much until you feel Hyunjin’s hand cupping your face.

“On me,” he says simply.

You nod, focusing your attention back on him.

How can he read you so easily? And be so unfazed, so understanding? You were blessed to have him as Chan’s counterpart in this. Truly.

You place your hands on his chest again, using his body to help you bounce up and down on his cock. His grip on your hips tightens and at first, he helps lift you up but then he pulls you all the way down and keeps you there.

“I need a second,” he tells you.

You smirk at that and start to grind on him. His hands make their way from your waist up to your breast. He squeezes both of them as his eyes roll back, and you know you have him right where you want him.

“Does that feel good?” You tease, moving your hips in slow circles.

He responds by snapping his eyes open and dropping a hand to press his thumb against your clit. A small gasp escapes your lips, and you grind against him harder. With each move of your hips, his cocks touches every part of you.

He’s working your clit with fervor, causing you to moan again as you feel the familiar sensation of another orgasm brewing within you.

“No,” you exhale. “I want you to come too.”

“I could have several minutes ago,” he admits.

You chuckle at that.

“Together?”

“Mmm,” he moans his agreement, placing his other hand back on your hip.

He grips it tightly once again and you resume bouncing on him. He keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing it as you fuck him.

Looking down at him, you feel lucky to have this experience with him. He’s so kind, so caring, so giving. There’s no way you could repay him for all he’s done for you and all that he’s taught you. But you can, at least, please him.

From the look on his face, you can tell he’s close. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, gaze stuck on the sight of your body rising and falling on his cock.

You slide one of your hands up to his neck and squeeze it lightly.

“On me,” you repeat his words from earlier.

He fixes his eyes on yours, and you stare back just as intently.

He brings his hand up to cover yours, applying more pressure to your grip on his neck. He gives a subtle nod before moving his hand back to your hips. You squeeze tighter as your legs begin to shake again.

“Now?” He asks.

“Yes, come with me,” you tell him.

He thrusts his hips upwards to meet yours every time, as he spills inside of you. You feel the walls of your pussy clench around his cock as you come, too.

When you both finish, you release his neck and collapse on top of him. He wraps his arms around your back, holding you close and kissing the top of your head. He turns so that you’re both laying on your side, and you feel his softening cock leave your body.

He lifts up for a second and finds his boxers. He uses it to clean you up before tossing them onto the ground. He pulls you as close to him as possible. You hook a leg around his waist and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

You’re happy with him. You wish you could stay wrapped up safely in his embrace and avoid what you must face tomorrow. But you know you’ve put it off long enough.

a/n: some much need hyunjin time. she needed a break before diving in to that conversation with Chan. more coming soon! if you'd like to sign up for the mailing list you can do so [ here ]. thank you to the 71 souls that have signed up already, ilysm.

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inthehouseoffinwe · 3 days

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I sometimes think about Fingolfin being the sole Uncle looking after all his nephews/niece/kids. Like, there’s 16 children. Before taking the Helcaraxë he no doubt promised Finarfin that he would take care of them. And I feel like once he found out about Fëanor, and especially saw the state of Maedhros, he silently promised his half brother he’d do his best to look after them too. Not that he wasn’t going to anyway.

But the burden that must have been, especially with how volatile and independant all these kids are. Oh they might be grown. But he’ll never see them as such. Even now he remembers Nelyo’s birth and how the baby would toddle after him, crying when it was time to leave. Curvo going through all his mechanical devices, Turukano right behind him as Fingolfin explained where each came from and listened to the children tell him all about the workings. Carnistir carefully running little hands over the embroidery of his cloak, Anairë laughing quietly and explaining the techniques that went into it. Ambarussa and all the chaos they caused, enough so that Fëanor and Nerdanel would dump them at his house for days at a time, usually a couple of brothers tagging along. Tyelko and Irissë wrestling in the mud, neither group of parents knowing what to do when they trudged in, a sticky trail behind them.

Findekáno’s duets with Makalaurë, the little musician quietly asking to play before his uncle and cousin to make sure it was perfect before he showed his father. Finno, Nelyo, and Findarato encouraging him with whoops, Fingolfin and Anairë applauding with wide smiles at the end as he was swarmed by his cousins and brother. The four’s ‘secret’ sleepovers whenever they were in the same place. Aikanaro and Angamaitë raiding his kitchens, Fingolfin joining in with a finger on his lips, helping steal pastries in the middle of the night. Artanis insisting she could join in whatever game his boys were playing, Ireth backing her with a scowl until they were let in. Little Orodreth and his own Arakano, friends since birth. The screams of delight whenever they saw each other.

Despite everything, or maybe because of everything, he doesn’t know. All of them are now his children. He couldn’t stop the Fëanorions from taking the most dangerous lands because he had no argument to give. He can’t stop Turno and Ingo from making hidden kingdoms and taking Ireth and Artaresto with them. He couldn’t save little Arakano. He can’t stop Artanis hiding in Doriath, although he’s grateful at least one of his kids is safe… even if that safety comes with disowning the rest of her family.

He can’t even protect little Tyelpë and Itarillë who never asked for any of this.

So when the Dagor Bragollach comes and he hears Aegnor and Angrod are definitely dead, Curufin, Celegorm, and Celebrimbor might as well be for the trail of bodies leading to Doriath and the mass murder at the Girdle, Maglor’s land has been burned so far beyond recognition, they can’t even *find* bodies, Turgon, Idril, and Aredhel he wouldn’t even know if they were killed, and he hasn’t heard from Finrod in months-

He can’t.

So he makes a last ditch attempt because maybe, just maybe, he can make their battle the slightest bit easier. Give his kids if any of them survive a weakness to exploit. A slight advantage to turn the tables…

A stab to the foot does the trick. Morgoth will be limping on that one for millennia.

He hopes his brothers can forgive him.

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letsgetrowdy43 · 17 hours

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Midnight magic—

Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: 🐞 with Jack and "i couldn't kiss you all day! let me make up for it now." please <333

Warnings/notes: I'm back to slowly working through the remaining requests!! Also no warnings other than making out!

[Closed] End of summer celebration!!

Midnight at the lake house had become a sacred time between Jack and Luke's best friend. The latest hours of the night were dedicated to quiet confessions of feelings and lust fuelled secret kisses, a stark contrast to the days when they pretended to be nothing more than acquaintances.

Jack had never expected to fall for her. She was Luke's best friend from university, someone he’d known for a few years but never truly seen the way he did now.

At first, she was just the girl who tagged along with Luke, who cracked jokes, who beat him at cup pong a few times every summer.

But then something shifted.

The summer nights grew longer, the air warmer, and suddenly, Jack found himself stealing glances at her whenever she laughed, lingering in the kitchen just to talk to her a little longer. It was almost pathetic how he switched up, going from not caring to feeling the urge to know every little detail about her.

Now, these midnight rendezvous had become their little secret.

When the others were asleep or too deep into late-night card games to notice, they’d slip away. Out into the stillness of the night, the lake reflecting the soft glow of the moon, the world quiet save for the gentle rustle of trees in the summer breeze. It was as if they were out of sight and out of mind to the others, and they loved just how easily it was to sneak away to back in the glory of the other even if it was just for a few moments.

Tonight was no different, Jack had waited all day, watching her from across the table at breakfast, from the dock while they swam, and even at dinner when she sat beside Luke, laughing at his jokes. It had been torture not being able to touch her, not being able to kiss her. But the risk of anyone finding out, especially Luke, was too high. So, they kept their distance, only to find each other again under the cover of night hidden away from the rest of the sleeping housemates.

Jack leaned against the back of the house, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, waiting for her to join him outside, where they could talk as loudly as they felt and be as intimate as possible without fearing any unwanted eyes.

She appeared quietly, like always, slipping out the back door, the silhouette of her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light. Her steps were light and careful as she walked towards him, and his heart began to race like it always did whenever she came near, her smile small as his hoodie hung loosely on her frame.

As she approached, she smiled—one that made his chest tighten in a way that only she could. Without a word, Jack pulled her into his arms, pressing her back against the wall of the house, their bodies close, but still careful. He studied her face, a slow grin spreading across his lips.

"I couldn’t kiss you all day," Jack whispered, his voice low, teasing. He gently brushed his thumb against her cheek, the touch sending shivers down her spine, "let me make up for it now." Her eyes flickered up to his, playful and full of the same longing that had been simmering all day, "you think that’s gonna cut it?" she teased back, her voice soft but daring, "you’ve got a lot to make up for, Hughes."

He chuckled, the sound low and rough, as he closed the gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that had been waiting for hours to happen. It was slow at first, soft as if he was savouring the moment. But it quickly deepened, his hands tightening on her waist as she curled her fingers into the soft material of his hoodie, pulling him closer like she couldn’t get enough of him.

That is the thing about the little arrangement between them, it was everything. It was silent and hidden, but it held the weight of the world. All the secret touches, the unspoken glances, and everything that remained between them was like ignition that lit this intense sense of romance of fire.

Jack broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against her lips, "Missed you all day." Her breath was ragged as she smiled into the next kiss, "you saw me all day," she said smugly, fully understanding the feeling of needing the other in ways that they couldn't be open about, but she also liked to hear him say it aloud. "Doesn’t count," he whispered back, gently pouting while shaking his head before pressing his forehead to hers, their breath, "not like this."

The world as Jack kissed her again, more slowly this time, savoring every second of it. Each kiss felt like it was full of the things they couldn’t say in front of everyone else, the feelings they had to hide.

His hands slid up her sides, brushing the hem of her sweater as he pulled her closer, kissing her as though he was making up for every hour they’d spent apart. She melted into him, her body pressing against his as hsi fingers found the freshly showered curls at the name of his neck, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

They pulled away after what felt like forever but was likely only a minute, their foreheads still pressed together, their breathing ragged before she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his jaw and then one to his cheekbone.

"We’re gonna get caught one of these days," she said in between kisses as his arms wrapped around her torso, a teasing lilt to her voice as he tried to bite back a grin. Jack smirked, brushing his lips against her once more before replying, "not tonight, but eventually, most definatley."

She laughed softly, her hands still holding him close as they stood there, the world quiet around them. "I think I'd be okay with that," she mumbled as she weighed out the theoretical pros and cons. "I'd most definitely be okay with it," he shrugged as she grinned at his nonchalantness, loving the idea of being openly able to show his growing feelings for her.

Midnight at the lake house had become their time, a place where they didn’t have to hide, where they could just be. But for how long, they didn’t know.

This was really quickly made so if it's bad don't tell me, I'll cry.

#rowan’s end of summer celly!!#jack hughes #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader

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hanjsquokka · 10 hours

Text

strawberry cake.

kim seungmin × fem!reader — high school! au, childhood friends to potential lovers, fluff

summary — seungmin only needs one present on his birthday, and it isn't the sugary dessert you made for him.

word count — 1.1K

warnings — fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!

author's note — happy seungmin day 🩷 i actually managed to post a fic on a member's birthday, who am i. initially thought of my baseball ksm fic but i know i'm not gonna finish that lol and his instagram posts were very inspiring. i think i watched this happen in some movie or tv show i watched, i don't remember 😭 but i thought it was really cute, lmk what you guys think <3

please consider leaving feedback in the comments or reblogs as they really make my day 💕

Kim Seungmin didn't like celebrating his birthday that much. Sure, he liked receiving a few gifts from his friends and a happy birthday here and there, but he didn't like the blowout parties that you loved. On your birthday, you would plan this whole thing, inviting friends from school and neighbors to celebrate your birthday. You were a social butterfly, so he understood why you did that. You loved being surrounded by people you cherished. Your birthday was just an excuse to call everyone over and spend time with them.

Seungmin, however, liked keeping his celebrations more reserved. His mother greeted him in the morning, making his favorite breakfast to eat and favorite lunch to take to school. His dad handed him some cash to buy something to eat after school, which he usually didn't do and opted to save it for a better cause. His sister offered to take him out for lunch on the weekend.

Of course, being the wonderful and amazing best friend that you were (your words), you always went out of your way to do something. Like this year, you presented him with a small cake slightly smushed in your lunch box with haphazardly thrown purple sprinkles.

“I made it from scratch,” you added with a big grin as you sat in front of his desk. His friends had left a few moments ago to play on the school grounds. He'd stayed back, finishing up the last of his lunch and letting it settle in his stomach before he ran around playing soccer. A small smile formed on his face; he could never dislike your enthusiasm for his birthday.

“It looks... artistic,” he said in an amused tone, looking up from the lunch box to your face, which was scrunched up in a frown.

“I didn't know the box would be small... And hey, I baked this for you; at least show some appreciation!”

Seungmin laughed. “Sorry, thank you for making this cake for me.” He meant that; he knew that you knew it too, because your shoulders relaxed, and you prompted him to take a bite and tell him how it tasted. There was a little too much sugar for his liking, but he didn't tell you that, instead nodding his head in approval and eating more of it. It was strawberry-flavored, his favorite. It warmed his heart that you always went out of your way to do things the way that he liked.

When he looked back at you, you were tucking a strand of hair back as you ate a spoonful. The longer he looked at you, the faster his heartbeat went, his body feeling hot right up to the tip of his ears. It was a weird feeling, but not foreign. Lately, it had been happening more often. He started seeing you in a different light, something other than a friend—not just any friend, but a childhood friend. He wasn't naive; he knew what crushes were, and he knew he had one on you.

It was a realization he had come across a few months ago when his family and yours went to the carnival over the summer and the two of you had gotten separated. He came home that day, heart tap dancing in his ribcage and a never-ending smile on his face from the way you jumped with excitement after you worked together to win the obviously rigged carnival games and winning a plushie.

Some part of him knew that. You liked him back as well; he hoped his brain wasn't playing tricks on him when he saw the way your eyes lit up after seeing him. The innocent friendship you two shared was morphing into something different—a good different.

That evening, while the two of you were walking home after the extra classes you had, the crisp evening air sent a tingle down his spine as he walked along the pavement, listening to whatever you were talking about and adding his own insights whenever he felt like it.

“Oh, hey, look! Tteokbokki!” You said excitedly, pointing to the food cart run by a middle-aged woman serving the steaming hot spicy rice cakes to a few customers. With a tug of his arm, you dragged him over and ordered one spicy one for both of you to share. He didn't like eating spice as much as you did, but he didn't want to say no to you. After a short debate, he used his birthday money to pay for the food, and the two of you walked along the riverside slowly as you ate.

“Mm, these are good,” you let out a satisfied hum and continued eating.

“They are,” he agreed. The spice was present at the back of his throat, but it was weirdly good after the oversweet cake he had during lunch.

“It tastes good after eating that sugar monster I made, right?” Seungmin turned his head to look at you. “What? Don't give me that look, that cake was so sweet, how did you even finish the whole thing? It tasted like I dumped a whole box of sugar in the batter.”

“True… But you made it, so I wanted to eat it,” he admitted, feeling his face flush lightly. If you teased him about it, he was going to brush it off and blame it on the tteokbokki, but your own cheeks mimicked his, tinging red at his sudden admission.

“Still,” you protested, “I'll have to make a better one that doesn't taste like cavities.”

“I like the oversweet one. Maybe I'm an extra sugar kinda person.”

"No, you're not.”

“It wasn't even that bad.”

“Now you're just lying.”

The two of you dissolved into laughter, finishing up the last of your food. The walk home continued in relative silence for a while, him mulling over his words and wondering if he made you uncomfortable because you were too quiet. Before he could make an apology, you spoke quietly.

“I'm glad you liked it, but I still wish I could've given you a better birthday present.”

He stared at the path in front of them, the streets lit up by lamps and porch lights. “You already gave me the perfect birthday present.”

You tilted your head to the side. “What?”

“You,” he blurted out, regretting his words the next second, but once he saw your flustered reaction, his nerves calmed a little. “Now let's go home and act surprised at whatever my parents planned.” You giggled in response and nodded, your footsteps falling in sync as you walked beside him.

“Happy birthday, Seungmin.”

“You said that like ten times today!”

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rivendell-poet · 2 days

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*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐑)❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

○ Aragorn ○ Legolas ○ Frodo ○ Sam ○ Merry ○ Pippin ○ Boromir ○ Faramir ○ Éowyn ○ Éomer ○ Bard ○ Thranduil ○ Tauriel ○ Lindir ○ Haldir ○ Elladan ○ Elrohir ○

GN!Reader | Wordcount : 2.9k (each individual around 170~ words) | Read on Ao3

TWS : References to a dead spouse/parent having a new partner after other parents death (Bard)

« 1, 10, 11, masterlist »

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

✧ You two weren’t sure how to tell the Fellowship, especially when your main problems centred around saving Middle Earth. Surely a relationship was inconsequential?

✧ In the end, it was Merry and Pippin who discovered your relationship by walking in on you kissing.

✧ You didn’t even know they were there until you heard the excited gasps, before Merry eagerly asks if he can tell everyone.

✧ Aragorn and you have talked about this before, but he still checks with you again to make sure you’re absolutely comfortable with it.

✧ The two of you give your agreements to the hobbits (and you still don’t think you’ve ever seen them happier).

✧ One of your highlights comes from Merry running up behind you and saying you and Aragorn are together before he realises who you are.

✧ Sam and Frodo awkwardly come up to you at one point and ask if Merry and Pippin have permission - it’s very sweet to see them blushing and trying to keep eye contact with the two of you.

✧ The rest of the Fellowship briefly acknowledges it, although it’s generally with just a nod to the two of you or a few words.

✧ The only exception is when there's sparring training - in which the men sometimes tease Aragorn for focusing on your match slightly too much.

𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

✧ You both ask each other who they’re ok with knowing, and both of you agree that with the lists you provide - but you don’t want to publicise it needlessly.

✧ Boromir is the first person you end up telling, after he not so subtly nudges you while you’re (also not subtly) staring at Legolas.

✧ He teases you a bit, but you know it’s in good faith, and when Legolas appears to ask if you’ll join him he instantly pushes you towards him, bidding you to have fun.

✧ On his part, Legolas actually forgets to tell anyone. It isn’t until he’s asking Aragorn about if his date idea is acceptable with mortal customs that Aragorn interrupts him to confirm the two of you are dating.

✧ Legolas stands there for a second, and then he realises he hasn’t told anyone.

✧ Proceeds to go into a long and slightly unnecessary infodump about you, and all of the things he loves about you, and why he’s honoured to be dating you, and-

✧ Aragorn actually doesn’t interrupt, and it’s only when Frodo and Sam come over that Legolas realises just how long he’s been talking.

✧ Word spreads from Frodo and Sam to the rest of the hobbits, and the hobbits make it everyone's business. And soon enough the whole Fellowship knows.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐨

✧ When Frodo had first talked about you to his friends, everyone wanted to know who the big-folk in the Shire was, they had been able to tell Frodo was a little star-struck.

✧ They’d also been able to tell it hadn’t exactly gone away, even after you’d been meeting for a while.

✧ Eventually Frodo tells them he can’t come to one of their regular meetings, and that same day the Shire reports seeing you and another hobbit go in the direction of the flower fields.

✧ It only takes the next time they see Frodo for Merry to give him a grin, and Pippin to give him a ‘subtle’ jab to the ribs.

✧ Frodo laughs at them, “You were right. They said yes, and it was wonderful.”

✧ The two immediately start cheering, and Sam congratulates him more quietly - although with just as much sincerity.

✧ Bilbo greets it only with a nod, and mutters to Frodo that it certainly took him long enough.

✧ (Pippin attempts a whistle the next time he sees you and Frodo in public. It starts out well, and then he laughs too hard to finish it. Especially when you start laughing while Frodo turns red.)

𝐒𝐚𝐦

✧ They’re the ones that finally convince Sam to ask you out, and they’re all hoping for you and him to work out - it’s just obvious to them that you belong together.

✧ They don’t see him for the entire day he asks you out, except very early in the morning to wish him all luck.

✧ And then they see him the next day.

✧ With the largest grin on his face, from ear to ear. As well as what might be a semi-permanent blush.

✧ The friends look around at each other before realising what that means.

✧ Pippin immediately rushes over to congratulate their good friend, with Merry right behind him.

✧ There’s some teasing but it’s all in good faith - they’re all relieved that you two are together.

✧ Although they tease Sam they’re a lot nicer to you, letting you know they know with smiles and a nod across the room.

✧ Frodo congratulates you on your courting.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

✧ One of the first things he, seriously, asks you is if he can tell his friends.

✧ Your confused as to why he asks, and he explains he doesn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position - and he’s more than happy for it to be just the two of you if that’s what you want/

✧ You reassure him that you’re fine with Pippin, Sam, and Frodo knowing.

✧ There’s obvious relief and joy on his face - and he grins before pulling you into a hug and thanking you. “Don’t worry, I won’t let Pip be mean.”

✧ The two of you actually see them the same day and Merry immediately runs over to Pippin.

✧ He almost tackles him into a massive hug, a huge grin on his face before glancing back at you with shining eyes.

✧ “They said yes!”

✧ (Although you find Merry’s excitement at telling others the sweetest, you have to admit hearing Pippin woop makes you smile as well.)

𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧

✧ Everyone in the Fellowship knew that he had a crush on you, because they all had eyes, although it was slightly less known you liked him back.

✧ Merry is the first to realise you’re probably going to end up together because Pippin asks him for a pep talk on the day.

✧ (Which Merry gives, of course.)

✧ The following breakfast he subtly goes up to Pippin and nudges him, to which Pippin gives a faux-wise nod before smiling and whispering ‘thank you’.

✧ Frodo and Sam both know him well enough to realise what’s happened, although they wait until you confirm it to say anything or make any comments.

✧ In the end you’re the one to ask if he wants it spread around, to which he answers of course - he just wasn’t sure if that was something you wanted.

✧ You reassure him that you’re fine with it, and you’d never be ashamed of this relationship.

✧ With your permission, he quickly gets around to telling everyone what’s going on.

✧ Even with every person he tells, the wonder that you’ve chosen him doesn’t diminish in the slightest.

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ You can't help smiling about Boromir asking you if you'll be his partner.

✧ Of course, the next day this does creep out while you're running drills with the rangers.

✧ Even Anborn's frankly terrible warm-ups don't get rid of it, something that is quickly noticed by your comrades. And commented upon.

✧ Not telling them who it is, even when pleading with you to say who's making you smile that widely, just makes them more persistent.

✧ Faramir denies all knowledge when they ask him, although of course he knows about the two of you in.

✧ In the end they take to calling him mystery man.

✧ Two days later all soldiers are together again, and Boromir discreetly buys you a drink and you plan to real later.

✧ As you turn around you can see your troops grinning, one of them mouthing 'mystery man'.

✧ Being the fair second-in-command you are, it only results in one extra lap next meeting.

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ He's, understandably, nervous about telling others about your relationship. ✧ Not because he isn't completely committed to you, he'd hang the moon and stars for you, but because he's worried about what people will say. ✧ And not about him - but about you. ✧ Faramir doesn't particularly want to introduce you to his father, so instead he introduces you to his brother. ✧ Boromir recognises you, and is immediately very cheerful and welcoming of you - putting the both of you at ease. ✧ Although he's very supportive, he understands it being kept a secret and promises that it is your relationship to tell. ✧ Faramir also offers to introduce you to his rangers, to which you eagerly agree.

✧ It's in a more casual setting - just a tavern, without the formalities of titles.

✧ The rangers are just as welcoming and supporting of you two, although they tease Faramir more than his brother did.

𝐄𝐨𝐰𝐲𝐧

✧ Aragorn had been the first person to notice when you two had started to like each other, before either of you had fully figured it out yourselves.

✧ And when you come back from your talk with Éowyn, he can see your blush and the small smile you have - the way you’re almost glowing.

✧ (Although most people with eyes would’ve noticed it too.)

✧ As such you don’t need to tell him, he merely comes up and congratulates you after the fighting is over - saying that you seem right for each other.

✧ Legolas and Gimli are also both with you when you come back from talking, and they realise as well.

✧ The both of them are a lot more vocal in their teasing about it - and you keep from hitting them by telling yourself it’s just Gimli’s way of not freaking out about the Dead.

✧ To be entirely honest your partner, and the teasing that comes with that, is the topic you’d much rather be thinking about.

𝐄𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫

✧ You don’t need to tell Éowyn, of course, as she’s the one who set you up in the first place.

✧ She’s also the one who, when you finally get back from your first date, whistles as Éomer kisses you hand in goodbye and looks entirely too pleased with herself when you both turn red.

✧ Théodred realises on the day Éomer first kisses you, as he too is part of the Rohirrim force that went out - following his cousin’s horse until he sees them jump off.

✧ As soon as he sees you two kiss he looks over to Éowyn for confirmation, who simply grins back.

✧ He congratulates Éomer in private, before asking when you two are going to inform Théoden about it.

✧ After asking his uncle for permission to date you, which Théoden gives freely, you are eventually formally introduced - although he recognises you as Éowyn’s friend.

✧ No-one else is personally informed, although word does get out about a prince of Rohan’s dating, and it becomes common knowledge that you two are courting rather quickly.

✧ For the most part there’s no bother, and the most comments you get are of people telling you how much they wish to be in your place.

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐝

✧ As much as Bard wants to parade you around the rooftops, walk with your hand in his and give you a small kiss when you’re close together, he does restrain himself.

✧ He wants to be with you, through all of this, but he also understands the importance of waiting and making sure something is real.

✧ The children love you, but he doesn’t yet want the children to know you two are dating.

✧ Bard knows he should probably wait longer than the three month mark, but he still loves you just as much as your first date and you feel the same.

✧ So over dinner he tells the kids that you’re courting, and feels a massive amount of relief when they all express enthusiasm.

✧ After that some friends and family are told, although most people become informed via the rumour mill.

✧ On a slow day, the news of you holding Bard’s hand or him kissing you goodbye becomes good gossip.

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐢𝐥

✧ It also takes Thranduil a while for him to be honest about your relationship.

✧ And again it certainly isn’t because of his lack of commitment. Because if you needed something done, he would do everything in his power to do it. To make sure you could smile.

✧ He does it because he wants you to be ready for the responsibilities and judgements that, unfortunately, are to come with you being with him.

✧ Judgements that mean nothing to him but that you don’t deserve, and therefore will help prepare you for.

✧ Thranduil will completely go at your pace for if things are moving too fast or too slow, constantly checking in and making sure you’re ok with what’s happening.

✧ Although, if things are going too fast he does generally slow them down. Making sure you’re not feeling pressured, and if there’s anything he can do to help you.

✧ It’s a small gesture in terms of what he could do, but when he sits next to you and looks into your eyes you know he’s sincere.

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

✧ When Tauriel is finally courting you, she just wants to show you off.

✧ To show the world how amazing her partner is - and that the two of you are together.

✧ If you'll let here, she'll happily he attached to you - holding hands, or giving you a quick kiss before you go out on patrol.

✧ Then when she's asked she's happy to confirm it, and try to give the person a list of the best things you've done in the past day.

✧ But if you ask her not too she also understands, and tries not to draw attention it it.

✧ Instead it's whispered in her friends ears with a sparkle in her eyes.

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ Lindir is nervous about telling others, although handles it fairly well.

✧ He asks if you'll allow him to wait a week or so - both to figure out what to say and to make sure you want this relationship.

✧ You reassure him that you will, but that he can also take all the time he needs.

✧ All in all, Lindir is probably the one of the most mature when it comes to telling people.

✧ Simply asking for a moment of time from the people he wishes to know, and then informing them that you are courting.

✧ And trying to deflect all compliments onto you, while simultaneously trying to remember them all so he can tell you them later.

✧ For your part you tell the people that you know in Rivendell, and they congratulate you (and admit envy) that you've managed to court the elf.

✧ Everything goes fairly smoothly, although you can't fully contain your shock when the Lord of Rivendell comes to speak to you. Even if it's only to congratulate the two of you. Especially if it's that.

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ Unsurprisingly, there aren’t that many people that Haldir knows in the lands of Rohan or of Gondor.

✧ Although a letter is sent that way, filled with surprisingly romantic prose that you wouldn’t expect from him, you know he won’t be able to tell anyone in his life until you go back to Lothlórien.

✧ But you do have Legolas to tell - and the remaining two of the hunters.

✧ You tell Legolas first, as his guard you’ve known him much longer, and because you want this to be something special.

✧ As elves, this will be (almost certainly) the only times you can say that you’ve fallen in love.

✧ Legolas is very congratulatory, instantly pulling you into a hug and saying he’s happy for you. Before pulling out of it and making you swear to tell him if Haldir doesn’t treat you well.

✧ It makes you laugh before you realise he’s being serious.

✧ To your amusement (and gratitude) Legolas then leaves to talk to your boyfriend - and you eventually find them standing outside and speaking in Elvish in quiet enough tones for you to not hear.

✧ Going over to them Legolas gives you a small nod, and Haldir offers you a smile before saying he’s glad that you have chosen him.

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐧

✧ Both of you are comfortable sharing what’s happening almost immediately, because both of you have lived in Rivendell for practically your entire lives and have a similar circle.

✧ In a way, telling others is awkward - but more because of the knowing smiles you receive, along with the congratulations.

✧ Of all the elves in Rivendell it seems that either Elrohir has told them, or that they’d always suspected it.

✧ Because of course the two of you somehow manage to be the most oblivious to your own relationship.

✧ Nearing the end of the day, Elladan takes your hand and gives it a kiss as you leave.

✧ “My apologies for managing to be this clueless for so long. I hope the rest of our lives can make up for it.”

𝐄𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐫

✧ Finds it far two funny that both him and Arwen have fallen for Gondorian nobles, and as such cannot wait to officially tell her.

✧ (Of course it was very obvious for a while before, and even more so when his courting proposal was during a public event - even though he made sure to catch you mostly alone.)

✧ Proudly tells his sister that he’s got the much better partner to become mortal for, and that she should be jealous of the two of you.

✧ And then only jumping a little when he turns around to see Aragorn behind him. Does not apologise for his statement, but does reassure him that he’ll always love his little Estel and-

✧ Aragorn cuts him off with his congratulations, before politely asking Elrohir to stop trying to steal you away from quite so many official duties.

✧ At which point Elrohir feels it only right to give a vague answer, before trying to locate you and the trusty pile of paperwork beside you.

✧ Comes into your room happily announcing the king has given his blessings. For everything.

« first scenario, previous scenario, masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @ferns-fics / @fleurdemiel-145 / @chewgazellechew / @nilintakan / @stormchaser819✧ wish to be tagged?

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wannabanauthor · 2 days

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I want a slow burn BuckTommy fanfic.

And I mean slow burn.

I want them hanging out, grabbing a beer, going to the movies, and spending time with Eddie.

Then one day, Eddie asks Buck if he can drop something off to him at Tommy’s house. Buck knocks on the door when he gets there and is greeted by a shirtless Tommy.

Tommy says they’re sparring in Muay Thai, and Buck’s like “can I watch?” And then spends the entire time salivating over Tommy without knowing what he was feeling.

Buck convinces himself that he’s only admiring Tommy’s body because Buck is also a fitness enthusiast.

Then Eddie leaves, and Buck barely notices because he’s staring at Tommy.

Tommy is not an idiot. He knows when another guy is checking him out, but he thinks it’s better to let Buck figure it out on his own.

Buck has different plans though. He takes off his shirt and is like “teach me Muay Thai”.

Now Tommy is the one staring. Maybe he starts asking Buck about his tattoos and even touched one and asks if it hurt to get them, meanwhile Buck has to restrain a moan in his throat.

Tommy just raises an eyebrow and continues asking about the tattoos. Then they do some light Muay Thai training, and Buck takes a cold shower when he gets home.

He has a wet dream about Tommy that night, and he still doesn’t know what to do because he’s not into men, right? Everyone makes a strangled sound when a hot guy with a great body touches them, right? He also finds himself with an erection that refuses to go away. So he gets himself off, and near the end Tommy pops into his mind, and he comes harder than he ever has in his life.

A few days later, Buck’s leg starts acting up, so Eddie asks Tommy to check on Buck and see if he needs anything while Eddie has to work.

Tommy comes over with food and entertainment to take Buck’s mind off the pain. Buck is happy and grateful, and is also a spoiled princess and puts his legs on Tommy’s lap, and Tommy gives him a leg massage. To both legs. Maybe it turns into a full body massage to help Buck relax.

Buck is practically in love but doesn’t know how to deal with or even properly acknowledge his feelings.

Later on during a shift, Tommy and Buck get called to the same accident site. They work really well together, and the people they save tell Buck that his boyfriend is very good at his job, and he’s like “my what now?”

Tommy pretends not to hear anything, but he’s quickly losing control of patience and willpower. He wants to make a move so badly, but he doesn’t want to freak Buck out.

So one night, Buck is elbow deep in Tommy’s social media profile and comes across an old post of Tommy kissing another man and referring to him as boyfriend. When I say elbow deep, I mean he’s 3 years into Tommy’s post history.

Seeing Tommy with another guy makes Buck feel angry, but he refuses to acknowledge why. Until he sees Tommy and accidentally confronts him.

Like maybe they’re sitting on a couch, Tommy takes a swig of his favorite craft beer that Buck bought him, and Buck just blurts out “are you gay?”

Tommy doesn’t even choke in surprise. He just says yep nonchalantly.

And then…stay tuned for the next update. This might be a summary fic (my term for a fanfic that’s more an in depth summary rather than actual fleshed out fic).

I want to see how long I can go on without having them kiss. I want longing and yearning and sleepless nights. Wait, omg, what if there’s only one bed in their hotel room in Vegas. What if they get drunk and accidentally get married? They try to get it annulled, but Buck’s like “wait a minute, we get a tax break” and Tommy has to be like “I think that’s called fraud.”

There are so many ways I can drag this out.

#wannabanauthor writes #bucktommy #buck x tommy #summary fanfic #fanfic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #slow burn #longing #yearning

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merakiui · 3 days

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Okay, but serial killer Azul getting revenge on everybody after he's presumed dead in a prank gone wrong.

Maybe you were a popular girl that he was always in love with, since you were the only one who wasn't outright cruel to him. One day you end up asking him to the prom and for him it's a dream come true, his true love is finally recognizing him. Unaware that it's a Carrie situation where you and your friends plan to humiliate him at the dance. He's so happy to spend the night with you, wanting everything to be perfect.

But when the prank happens, something goes wrong, leaving Azul worse for wear and you and your friends believe he's dead and get rid of the body. But he's still alive and not happy about what happened on the best night of his life.

Suddenly your friends begin to go missing one by one, until you're the only one left. It's then that Azul reveals that he's still alive. Except he believes that you weren't apart of the prank, that you were tricked into it somehow Delusional Tako. Now that all your friends are out of the way, you two can finally be happy together.

I hope you don't mind my rambling. Slasher Azul just gave me ideas.

AAAAAAAAA OTL oh, the wrath of a scorned octopus... this is so good!!! Being a popular bully and thinking it would be so funny to take that loser Azul to prom, only to then prank him alongside your friends. And when it goes terribly wrong the lot of you are in a panic. Suddenly, you have to delete all of the videos and pictures you took, and you all take an oath to never tell anyone about it, making sure to keep your stories and alibis in check in case you're questioned. All of you need to remain innocent when they start investigating his disappearance.

Dumping Azul's body somewhere in the woods and then going on with your lives, hoping no one will ever find him. >_< the heartbreak and betrayal and fear Azul must have felt that night... now he's just angry and so vengeful. He already hated your friends; he always thought they were a terrible lot. This was the final push he needed to do something about them once and for all.

It could never be you, though!! You must have been pressured into it by those bullies. After all, you asked him to prom! You were so excited, so sweet! He got you a pretty corsage with your favorite flowers. He made sure to look his absolute best, and you told him he looked handsome in his suit. So it definitely couldn't have been you!

He doesn't understand why you're crying, why you're fleeing. He should be the one crying! It's his life that was ruined, and your friends laughed at his suffering! Your friends tossed him aside so easily when they thought he was dead because they wanted to save their skins. You don't get to run away. Not this time. He's going to have that dance with you no matter what—the dance you promised him! A blood-stained, masked Azul is closing in on you, and you've run yourself into a dead end. :)

No one hears from you ever again.

#twisted chit chat #>:) hehehe i love slasher tako

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galeorderbride · 1 day

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Forgiving the Flame for a Burn - Zevlor x F!Tav Fic Request

An angst/comfort/smut piece for @evocationwriter. Thank you so much for asking me to do this piece, I adore you! Xx

This is SMUT (tags/details below)

18+ MDNI

Summary:

One year after the defeat of the Elder Brain, Tav is trying to settle into daily life. But being a hero means the making of enemies, and Tav ends up on the wrong side of the city, with the wrong kinds of people.

That is, until a charming, former Hellrider steps in, saving her from the worst and taking her into his home for the night.

Tags: angst, comfort, smut. Unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), light orgasm denial, tail play, tiefling anatomy (infernal ridges, forked tongue), religious language used; some detailed depictions of a violent attack (beating to be specific)

Word count: 5k

Zevlor x F!Tav

No one talks about the end of a hero’s journey. Tav found herself thinking of that often, ever since the Elder Brain fell by the hand of her and her companions. Subjects of bard’s songs and children’s puppet performances, all of them bending to the whim of ‘thank yous’ and questions about adventures. All of them fading over time into nothing. People moved on, they had to, of course. Rebuilding homes, restarting businesses, schools and cleaning up parks. Life went on, and the looks of admiration as she’d wander the streets dissolved.

Needless to say, that wasn’t all bad. Walking around the city gave her a sense of anonymity she’d missed in the year since the brain’s defeat. While she had fond memories of children asking for autographs and telling tales at the Elfsong to curious attendees, the harassment and threats from those who felt nostalgia for the cult of the Absolute soured the experience. Every time she’d think about it, memories of Stone Lord exiles and concealed Banites taunting her with torture fled to mind.

Now, she could relax. Bask in the beauty of city living with no one to bother her (other than letters from her companions and comrades, which always excited her). Evening slowly began to fall, a wondrous sunset disembarking for the night as shopkeepers lit sconces outside their doors and brought in their signs. Fishmongers and tradesmen met in the streets to coalesce at either the Blushing Mermaid or the Elfsong. Parents corralled their children to follow them home after a day at the markets. Tav walked among them, smiling at the peace of normality she’d never forget again.

On nights like this one, Tav would look up above the Elfsong and see Alfira strumming her lute on the balcony. By now, she’d been giving lessons to children at her very own music studio for the last three or four months. Even then, she’d still go up to that rooftop and sing her heart out. Tav felt remorse every time she gazed upon the dazzling tiefling, guilt in her heart that, rather than enjoy the music, her soul yearned for the presence of a different tiefling entirely.

A year since she saw Zevlor at the final battle. A year since she’d discovered he survived. A year—and not a single letter. Everyone else reached out to her but him. In the weeks following, she wracked her brain for anything she might’ve said wrong. Any word that could be taken as an insult. Only he knew, and that would be just so forever.

She ignored the chest aches now, and the tingling in her abdomen that sometimes made her knees shake. Hoping one day they’d fade away like her fame. One outlived the other.

Was he even in Baldur’s Gate anymore?

Clearing her throat, she kept walking. Straightening her shoulders. New bottles of dye clinked against each other in her basket, held close to her stomach. In her daydream, the clock tower struck nine, startling her as she realized she’d been standing there for too long.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, forced to face her newfound fear of walking alone outside ever since anonymous former cultists began to harass her. She chastised herself for going today, irritated that she didn’t just wait until tomorrow morning.

Sticking to the main road, Tav hurried her step through the emptying streets. The end of a tenday, people looking for a rowdy night out were trickling into every space they could get drunk. Irrationality kicked in, everyone became an enemy, and no one had even noticed her yet. She repeated in her mind: Tav, get yourself together, you fought an elder brain. You can take anything a mere civilian can hit you with. Just walk.

Halfway home, things were normal. Everyone ignored her, and she felt her shoulders begin to calm as she neared her destination. The sky grew dark, only the light of the crescent moon peering behind the overcast lit her way. Little droplets of rain began to dot her face, she lifted her cape hood for shelter. Right as heavy footsteps trailed behind. The jungle of buckled boots and a person at least twice her size, she could discern that without even looking.

“The hero of Baldur’s Gate! Walking about these parts alone at night. Guess you don’t need brains to be a saviour, huh?” The voice behind her said. A man with a gravelly voice, slurred with drunkenness and malice.

Tav tried to ignore him, swallowing her fear as she kept walking at a brisk stride. One or two minutes and she’d be home. Counting the seconds, in tandem with the footsteps continuing to pursue her. Now in a quiet street, no one was around to help or witness whatever the man behind her had planned.

“Don’t run off so quick, sweet one! Sing me one of those ballads made about you! Bet it’ll sound sweet gurgling out of your throat when I cut it!” He chided, a growl so feral within him she could mistake him for a wild animal.

Another voice poked through an alleyway she passed, another men bumping her with his shoulder, rough enough to send her steps back against a wall. He said, “Father will love this at his temple doorstep, brother.”

Bhaalists. She should’ve known the ones to keep pestering her after all this time would be them. Likely a worse nightmare than anyone else, given their propensity for insane, maniacal violence. Were they even drunk? Or was that a farce to blend in with the city?

“Leave me be! I’ve killed more than you for less,” she said, sucking in her frightened breath.

Both of them cornered her, trudging towards her and beginning to push her around between the two. Smaller than both of them, she struggled to fight back as her basket of dyes shattered to the ground. Catching them off guard just quick enough for her to throw a punch in the face of one. He fell back, grunting in pain as the other smacked Tav against the brick wall. A sharp ache ran across her spine, the wind knocked out of her to completion when the one she punched slammed his fist into her stomach.

Gasping for breath, they let her collapse to the ground. Holding her abdomen tight, the roof of her mouth dryer than sand. Catching impossible air as the two paced around her, predators toying with their prey. That hit to her stomach so hard that she couldn’t find the strength to get up let alone fight back. Gods, was she really done in so quickly? Had she softened so much in just a year?

Most of the time, they were four at least. Now, she was one. And defeated in a matter of minutes. Dye stained her clothing as she twitched around the ground, feeling a harsh sting of hands clawing at her hair, pulling her back.

“Not so heroic now, are you?” The one that held her hair teased, giggles oozing with evil.

“Enough dawdling,” said the other, sheathing out a sharp, shining knife. “Tie her up to take her to the temple.”

Right when they began to tie the rope around her, a swing of a longsword sliced across one’s throat. Tav didn’t see all of it, still reeling from the punch. But the second one began to fight against her rescuer. Behind her writhing body, the sound of punching, stabbing and armour sliding against leather permeated the air.

And then nothing. Quiet air mixing with laboured breath, a few growling sighs to follow. Ones she recognized after a few seconds. A calming but assertive tone that used to excite her beyond belief.

“Z—,” she tried to say his name, but coughed instead. Recovering from the punch to the gut, breathless all the same.

Warm arms wrapped around her, lifted into an embrace healing her in seconds. Heat coursing within each injured vein, the tender flesh of a tiefling’s hold. Her head hung back against his arm, aching stomach muscles jolting. But the rest of her soul eased with the shelter of safety, letting him take her wherever he deemed right.

It could’ve been minutes. Or hours. Awakening in a soft bed covered in thick furs and clean sheets. Glowing candlelight against stone walls and the blurry flame of a burning fireplace. Sparks flew across the mantle as a broad shouldered, tailed man threw another log in. Trickling liquid poured from a clay pot, steaming scents of green tea and lemon soothing her into full awareness. No more pain, other than a small ache in her abdomen. For a second, she wondered if she’d died.

Tav shifted on the mattress, wincing from her sore muscles. At the corner of her eye were her dye-soaked clothes, hanging to dry after being washed. Bare arms and legs slid around the linen fabric of her ivory slip. Hair swept back from her face in a loose, well done braid.

“Am I dead?” She whispered, groaning out remnants of her voice as if she’d forgotten she had one.

The man turned from the fireplace, rushing to the bedside. Seating himself on the stool directly next to her, she could clearly make out the weathered, handsome features of Zevlor. Pouring tea like an old friend, not someone who’d been silent for a year.

“Not dead, Tav. You can’t imagine how glad I am that you’re awake. After those mongrels attacked you…I feared the worst,” he said, handing her the small cup as she sat up. Zevlor outstretched his hand as she winced, but pulled back before he could touch her.

Her eyes closed with the peace of green tea on the tongue. Pushing away the thoughts of the attack, burdened by yet another memory of pain. She chose another route, “You saved me. I don’t know how you found me but thank you, I owe you for such a gesture.”

With a cordial nod of a soldier, he said, “Think nothing of it. I—well, it’s a long story but I’ve made a living through private security. I was coming home from a job when I saw you in the street. Found you just in time before you slipped into that alleyway.”

She cupped the mug in her hands, resting on her cross-legged lap. A skipped beat of her heart went aflutter when she caught Zevlor’s eyes linger over her bare legs, and back to her face in a split second.

“I didn’t even know you were in the city,” she said, “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”

Zevlor shifted, eyes darting away from her to every other corner of the room. The place was small, fit for a single man who didn’t want for much. Exactly him, melding in with the space as he paced around with his arms crossed. Keeping his distance as he always did even when they had fought together, even after the celebration…

“Certainly, I owe you an apology for that. There is still much agony in going into it but—I was in a bad way after the final battle. An injury of the mind, if you will. Times were hard, too hard to reach out to you with any confidence,” he explained.

“I expected no less, after all that happened. Only that, well I thought we’d become close. That maybe you’d find some peace through my support. But,” she trailed off as her hands shook, shock of what happened to her still dominant over her, “seems you supported me.”

Her feet hit the cold floor, trying to stand up while wobbling about. Just as her hips moved off the mattress, she stumbled downward. Zevlor strode over, hooking his arms around her, lifting her back onto the bed. In her panic, she clutched him without mercy. Holding him so close to her that he fell forward, knees landing on the bed as she lay under him. Hovering over her, he saw the quick rise and fall of her chest, struggling to properly exhale. Bringing him back to their moment alone at the Grove celebration, when he comforted her, held her as she wrestled with the fear she had to hide for her companion’s sakes. Here he was again, taking one, brave move to slide the strap of her slip back onto her shoulder.

“Zevlor…please don’t leave,” she said as she felt him move away, feeling his heart shred at the discomfort of being so close. No matter how much he craved it. Craved her.

He sighed, “You’re terrified, shocked from what happened. I don’t want to get in your way and make things worse.”

As he pulled away, she stabilized her tremored hand by grasping his wrist, “You haven’t made things worse. Remember when you sat with me at the party? When I confessed to you how afraid I was of everything? You helped me so much back then, how could now be any different?”

Zevlor faced away, staring into the firelight as Tav waited. He could not retreat from the visions of their last meeting. How she cried to him, and told him she felt safe in the comfort of his arms. Sitting in a grassy, humid corner away from the rest of the guests. Sheltered by fern leaves and flowers, he let her talk and talk about all that troubled her. Felt so touched by her vulnerability that he shared his own worries too. Two of them, absorbed in isolating fear and finding each other in the dark. Hands wandering around with each kind word, and then the arousing jolt of remembering her naked flesh against his. Tail wrapped around her ankle while they made love under the plant covered moonlight. So beautiful under him, sensations he never thought he’d experience again.

He thought of making her his again so many times after. But in between then and now, he kept failing. Falling into disorder and defeat. People dying for his mistakes. Who would want someone like that? A man so past his prime he verged on cowardice, next to the hero of Baldur’s Gate. How could that ever make sense?

“Both of us were vulnerable at that time. You’re recovering from an attack, and…well, I know you appreciate honesty. My body is so excited from the fight, and from seeing you again, that if I get close enough I might take you here and now. Even though I’d come to regret being so forceful,” he explained.

Hot shame filled every corner of his face just for saying it. Avoiding her gaze even as she took deep breaths, standing from the bed again. This time, with success. Still slow, but steady in each step closer to Zevlor by the fireplace.

“You were always so hesitant about what you wanted,” Tav said, close behind him. The glow of the fire warmed one side of her exposed arms, fingers tickling against the fabric of his cotton shirt. Brushing the tip of her nose against his spine, taking in the scent of brimstone and pine. Her strength regained with each graze of her palm against him, light and teasing.

“I venture to deserve the things I want first,” he said, head down towards the flame. Closing his eyes to the feeling of Tav’s hand sliding from the back of his arm to the top of his hand. Rested on the mantle as she gave a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t that up to me to decide?” She asked, taking the strap he once adjusted in place and pulling it down again. “You saved my life today. And I missed you terribly, Zevlor.”

Hand in hand, she turned him to face her. Tall and soldierly in front of her, head craning up to face him in all his glory. Fire crackled before them, leading her hand guiding his to her waist. His nails craved to dig into her skin, pull her close and never let go. She tiptoed into his embrace, other arm around her back, forming a gentle, passionate hug. Feeling her skin against his again, he was happy to die that moment.

“Are you sure this is what you want tonight? It was not my intention when I took you in to do this,” he said, wondering if she heard a word he said. She pushed their faces closer, lips hovering around each other. Temptation already too difficult bear as his mouth opened to bite into her supple flesh, but stopped short. “I won’t be able to control myself if you allow me this.”

Tav’s cool breath danced along his tongue, a full body desire to sob over how much she wanted him. To do what they did last time and pretend the world didn’t exist.

“You make me feel safe, Zevlor. I’ve been on my guard ever since we parted. Do you know how wonderful it feels to just…relax? Please, I want you near me. Inside me all night. Just like at the Grove. Hold me, Zevlor,” Tav said, her voice a crescendo of emotion from whisper to yelp.

Words weren’t enough, he had to be shown. Tav ruminated that very idea ever since they last parted. How a commander of a group like the Hellriders could end up so unsure of himself. Maybe he wasn’t always like that, but he was now. And she wasn’t inclined to change a thing. She laced her fingers under the straps of her slip, letting the fabric slowly waterfall off her body. In the wake of her naked form before him, she swore she could hear his beating heart. Rapid and fiery like the burning glimmer of the room.

“Can you promise me one thing?” He asked, hands pressed against her cheeks, lifting her eyes up to him. Round and ablaze with desire, warm and cool at the same time.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“Do not leave in the morning,” he said.

“I’ll never leave if that’s what you require.”

It was a kiss like never before. A whirlwind heart attack imploding between the two of them. Zevlor’s soul rose out of his body, taken over by the beckoning ache of her open mouth, welcoming his forked tongue. Tav melted into him, relishing in the hot pleasure of pressing her bare body against his clothed one. She clawed at his belt, longing for the image of his warrior frame above her. Scarred and toned by years of combat. Tail swivelling back and forth, a supplicant tying around her supple thigh.

Their voices hummed into each other, a hymn of blossoming want. Walking in tandem to the bed as Zevlor climbed over her, shuddering at the pleasure of pushing between her legs. He sat up on his knees, stretching his flexed back muscles as he pulled off his cotton shirt. A tingling sensation spread between Tav’s legs, cool air biting at her wet, sensitive core. She couldn’t resist the urge to run her hands across his torso, savouring every scar and mark, repeating her movements when he’d moan. His belt jingled below, unclasped as the imprint of a large erection outlined his pants. He was an impressive man…everywhere.

“Pull them down slowly, I want to see,” Tav ordered, voice dark and wistful with lust.

“At your command, my beautiful goddess,” he said, a low growl vibrating from the back of his throat. Taking slow, painful time in pulling down his trousers. Tav bit her lip, the excitement almost too much. A little tuft of pubic hair opened the door to a long, thick shaft, bouncing against Zevlor’s stomach when it finally broke free. Her mouth watered, licking up the collection of desperate saliva at the top corner of her lip.

Her heart fluttered, body hot and assured unlike before. That was the spell Zevlor had her under since they’d met. Empowering her just from being close, reminding her of the strength she still had. Not a thing of the past, but something to be embraced. And now, she had a chance to stay with him for more than a night. Protect each other, and revel in their primal need to be attached.

Discarding his pants with the rest of his clothes, Zevlor lowered, kissing between her bare breasts and down to her stomach. Heartfelt, exciting tickles made her giggle with a flirtatious ring. Shivering at the scratches his nails left in their stead. Relaxing every nerve within as she lay in his embrace, letting him take the lead. She hoped he’d always give her a chance to let go this way, think about nothing other than the pleasure he’d cover her in.

Between peppered kisses and flicks of his tongue along her stomach, he whispered, “You’re mine, I’ve wanted you to be since the moment I saw you. I’ll protect you, keep you safe. Come here.”

With untold force, Zevlor swung Tav’s legs onto his shoulders, capturing her cunt in his mouth. Jolts of ecstasy wet and savoured with each slide of his tongue across her clit. Sucking, licking, moaning into her without any attempt to catch his breath. Driven each time he tasted more of her essence. Unbridled to the point where she had to hold his horns to keep balance. The temperature of his hellfire skin stimulated her even more, muscles tightening with every weakened, whimpering moan that escaped her. Assertive, but slow, gentle even as he became primal against her. Letting the rhythm take her exactly where she needed to be.

Tav’s moans fluttered like butterflies, one hand clutching his horn and the other falling over her eyes, focusing on the chase of that wonderful high. Vampiric biting down of her lip, containing her innate need to be even louder. There would be time for that. Tonight, she wanted to sink into him, fall into a calming, warm pool of passionate affection. Enjoy the sensation of his body becoming a vessel for her pleasure, moving his tongue in just the way she liked.

Between tiny gasps, Tav said, “Zevlor…you’re going to make me cum. Please don’t stop…please.”

He didn’t reply, too focused on slurping up every trickle of sex that dripped out of her. He simply moaned, muffled by the soft grind of her pussy against his face. Building up to a climax that bloomed throughout her body, arching her back as she rode out an orgasm she had no idea she craved so deeply until it happened. He’d refuse to let her stop a second early, continuing to circle his tongue around her clit until she shook with sensitivity.

She melted into the bed, a thin veneer of sweat combining with the dripping warmth between her legs as Zevlor took his mouth off. Positively beautiful over her, muscular back bent in a perfect curve when he began to suckle and kiss around her neck and collarbone. Travelling downward in a desperate need to cover every inch. Landing with satisfaction on her nipples, laughing for the first time in years, lost in the joy of her.

Zevlor stopped for a moment, lifting his head to face her below him. Tranquil and drunk with sinful pleasure, cheeks filled with rosy blush and eyes glazed over. Arms splayed out like the wings of a celestial Aasimar. He loathed the past, for so many reasons, but mostly because she wasn’t there with him. In her infinite beauty, a plush and wanton solace before him. How did he ever stomach being away from her since they’d met?

“I’m sorry for leaving you after that night. Forgive me?” He asked.

Tav laughed, spellbound to the point of forgetting she was ever upset. As if he’d never left. She said, “You may need to convince me a little more, hellrider.”

Something switched off within him, a zealous need to have her succumb to him. Forgive him for his misgivings. Praying to a new goddess and asking for redemption. Offering himself to her by inching his cock deep inside her, feeling the pull of her soft walls lock him in. Driven to eternal admiration from the sound of her shocked, euphoric moan, submitting to the stretch of him. An addictive sting, exposed to every synapse erupting within her sensitive, yearning cunt. She bit her bottom lip with a smile, shivering at the comforting wrap of his tail around her waist to keep her in place. No escaping the loving, dominant thrust of his hips deep into her.

“Forgive me,” he said, “Forgive me. Forgive me!” A passionate, hard thrust into her pussy each time he said it.

The might of him rendered her eyes at the back of her head, nearly unable to reply as he begged for her forgiveness. Her slick smacking against his pubic bone, gushing onto his cock in a lustful mess of an orgasm begging to come back. Tav snaked her arms across Zevlor’s shoulders for dear life, brought to the edge with his heavy grunts in her ear. She tightened around him, rocking back and forth on the bed, closer and closer to release.

He felt the contracting of her around him, unfulfilled by her silence on forgiveness. Just as she was about to finish, he pulled out of her, smacking the tip of his cock against her clit repeatedly. Listening to her whine and whimper, threatening tears. Then, before she knew it, he thrusted back in, hard and unmerciful. Pulling out again, repeating that pattern.

“Have I earned your forgiveness? Or shall I deny you until you use your words all night? Tell me, am I absolved, goddess?” He growled, voice husky and feral, the militant part of him revealing just enough of itself to command her to his whim.

By the fourth thrust and pull, she wailed, “Yes, gods above, I forgive you! There’s nothing to forgive, just make love to me!”

He pushed inside her fully, smashing his lips against hers at the same time. Holding her hips in line to use his infernal ridges as friction against her swollen clit. Locking his hand into hers, supported above her head while he thrusted and thrusted with reckless abandon. Both of them grunting in tandem, overcome with delayed pleasure. Tav found her footing quickly, edged so deliciously that her orgasm ripped through her with little effort, squeezing onto his cock. Her nails dug into his knuckles, mouth hanging open in awe over the intensity of her second climax.

Pulling from the kiss, he struggled against his own release. Mourning for the eventual time when he’d have to leave her cunt. Comfortable, warm and wet, a shelter from all harm. He couldn’t stand it yet, and used his tail around her waist to flip her onto her side, like fresh sand in the palm of his hand.

“Let me lie next to you,” he said, moving his body in a spoon position, chest pressed against her back, “I want to cum with you in my arms.”

Tav mustered a whisper thin ‘please’ under her breath, running her hands through his hair as he snuggled in behind her. The curve of her spine angled just right for him to sheathe himself inside her once more. Pumping slowly this time, arms and tail curled across her body like ivy against an ancient wall. Kissing the side of her neck, an endless waterfall of tenderness mixed with the possessive thrust of his cock. She was completely enveloped, safe and sound in his embrace, floating in the paradise he gave her.

“You’re with me, now. Right here, safe. Does that feel good? Am I pleasing you, goddess? Might I cum inside you?” He whispered in her ear, low and gruff. Intense bravado oozing from every part.

She was awash with sensual energy, captivated by him just like the first time. Although that was much quieter, fearing someone might hear them. Now, she felt as if they were sharing a home. In the privacy of their own dwelling, even if that was a fantasy.

“Oh, yes, you are perfect. I want your everything, Zevlor. Please, give me everything,” she replied, taking care to run her tongue up and down his bottom lip before she pushed them into a wet, feverish kiss. Flicking her tongue against his teeth, relishing in the sharp edge.

Their mouths were open to each other when he felt the stirrings of his climax. Languishing movements lost rhythm as he climbed ever forward into that much desired sensation. Possessed by the supple flesh of her lips and everything else. Hips, breasts, stomach, ass, everything. Falling into her deep, insane at the ache of his cock inside her. He breathed out a hard, rapturous moan before he let himself spill, soaking her cunt with the cum that twitched out of him. Dribbling out of the side as she lay before him with a wide, calm smile. Their muscles relaxed together, fusing into the bed.

Tav shivered, the slide of his cock pulling out sending a shock in her spine. Imbued with comfort immediately as Zevlor pulled a thin sheet over her. Tucking her into the blankets and the warm hold of him. Snuggling tight into her, yearning to find a way to fuse his body with hers. Kissing the top of her head, lingering to take in her scent.

“You did not smell of rosemary when we last saw each other,” he said, “That’s always been a favourite of mine. Rosemary.”

Tav grinned, turning to face him. A much needed distraction to keep her heavy eyelids from shutting for the night. To see him once more, maybe twice. Absorb all she missed in the year past. His handsome, aged face glowing under firelight. Sandy hair, messy and dotted with sweat. Strong hands stuck tight to her hips. All she imagined came to life.

Zevlor held her hand, kissing each knuckle, down to the bottom of her palm. A touch so ethereal, he could have been giving healing magic. Rescuing her both outside and in, cleansing her soul of all evil and wrongdoing endured before.

“We’ll replenish your lost supplies tomorrow,” he said, her hand close to his face, “If you’ll allow me to accompany you?”

She smiled, containing its ever widening stretch. “Well, we do have a great deal to catch up on.”

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yiiyiiwrites · 2 days

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🔥 | Autumn Equinox | Eris

Summary: You're a witch living in the Autumn court forest, Eris is tasked with making sure you're not up to anything bad. But the baddest thing you've done is fall in love with him. How you share your morning with Eris during the Autumn equinox and showing him your rituals 1985words

Eris Vanserra x Witch reader

Also Have one for [Cassian] & [Azriel] & Lucien coming soon

Acotar masterlist

The bells chimed as he walked through the door to your little cottage, a clothed pouch gripped tightly in his hand. Eris Vanserra, eldest son of Autumn and the thief that stole your heart. You don't know how he'd crept into your thoughts so easily and remained till he could sneak away to visit you again.

Always so well put together, not a single crease in his tailored clothes. The emerald green overcoat making his copper hair stand out, it fell freely over his shoulders and curled at the end. Amber eyes narrowed as he scanned the room, hands tucked behind him, but a smile tugged the corner of his lips.

"I'm here for the monthly check," he said, circling the tiny kitchen until he stopped in front of you. His hands found place on your hips and he closed the remaining sliver of distance between you and him.

You backed into the kitchen counters, head arching up to meet his amber eyes. His touch burning, you gripped the soft velvet lapels of his overcoat and pulled him down, lips pressing against his.

"Does that conclude your check, General?" You said leaning away from him as he tried to chase your movements, nose trailing your cheek.

"I may need some more time to compile my report," he said stepping back, a dusting of dried lavender brushed over the top of his head and he shook the petals from his silky hair.

The last time he'd visited, Eris had picked the last blossom of flowers from your garden. Binding them with string, loop holding them up from the pins in the wooden beams on the ceiling. Saving you from standing on the rickety stool, that he'd told you to get rid of every time it caught his attention.

A fog still hung around the lower trunks of the forest trees, the rising sun painting the sky in a golden glow. Windows misted, the drizzle of rain running down the glass pane.

"Happy equinox, my beloved."

Your heart skipped a beat whenever he used that term of endearment. Knowing that he could hear the change in your heart rate, only spurring him on to use the word more often. Liking how you blushed and met his gaze, unwavering and unafraid of getting burnt.

"Worship me then, my love," you replied, pushing him into a chair with one finger. Sharp nail leaving a crescent mark in the soft velvet of his overcoat.

The court feared you, but Beron kept you caged to the forest. Letting you practice your magic and using it for his own gain. Tied to the lands and unable to step into the heart of the court, you made the most of your assigned time with Eris, the one person that didn't fear your power.

"I'm afraid I can only worship you this morning, the rest of my day is fulfilling my duties," he said laying the pouch on the dining table and untying the string to lay the contents out.

It was easy to forget the burdens and responsibilities that weighed on his shoulders. The little cottage offering you both a place of refuge and your own space to create just for yourselves. No outside influences ruining the life you'd built together. Eris was the only person that visited frequently, a few times one of his younger brothers had stepped in for him and you'd longed for the eldest.

"Oh, you brought them. You picked them on you way?" You asked sliding a mini brass cauldron across the table to him. He nodded, shuffling the browning leaves on the cloth in front him. He mirrored your movements, placing the leaves in his cauldron and glancing back at you for instruction.

The cool breeze filtered through the open window, Eris's copper hair dancing behind him like crackling flames. He combed his fingers through his long locks and pinned them back. A few strands falling like silk over his pale face.

"What are we...." The gulf of a flame cuts his words short, the orange glow rising high as it devours the leaves in your cauldron. His amber eyes darken, a flicker of the same fire within them.

"Light it," you said, nodding to his cauldron. "It's a releasing ritual, think of the things you need to let go, that are no longer working for you or are holding you back." Your lips soften to a smile, your gaze lowering the flame of your own and focusing on your own thoughts you wished to expel. "Release it, so you can move on."

You felt the warmth of his magic, but did not gaze at his flame. That was his ritual alone, his to lay waste to all the things holding him back. Not everything was in your control, but small things like this led to powerful change.

Inhaling a trembling breath, you exhaled a calm and steady one. Your body lighter, mind clearer as nothing but ash laid at the bottom of your cauldron. The smoke rising from the curved rim merged with the soothing scent of cinnamon and oak clouding your senses.

Eris's gaze snapped to you, back straightening as he righted himself and released a deep breath of his own. You didn't ask how he felt, you could see the lightness in the slight relaxing of his shoulders and soft jaw smoothing the pulse of tension away.

"Ready for the next phase, my love?" Remember you always have a choice," you said reminding him that he could stand down if it got too much for him.

Not everyone was ready to face themselves and let the old them go, a constant cycle of transformation, enough to keep people in the past and clinging to that scrap of safety. You were well versed on the spinning wheel, the good and bad that spun and offered you a new beginning and sometimes a painful ending. How else were you supposed to grow if you did not welcome the unknown?

"I'm ready."

Eris wasn't afraid to leap, to take your hand and trust that you'd have his best interest at heart. Each time he'd left your home, you'd performed a protective spell to see him to safety out of the woods and deep down you hoped it'd extend to the court and protect him from his father, his brothers.

You lead Eris to the living area, sinking into the plump sofa and fluffing a cushion for him before he could sit back. Dried herbs and flowers covered the small table, you'd spent weeks preparing enough for the both of you.

"Now we need to cleanse, but we're going to bundle up some of these to burn." You gathered up rosemary, lavender and peppermint, closing your hand around to keep them together. "Pick which ones you like the scent of or that call to you."

Eris's hand hovered over the stems and petals, he picked a few up and brought them closer testing their scent. The first one he chose, Lavender the scent he associated with you. He'd admitted that it had clung to him whenever he'd left like he was still in a daze in your cottage. A few sprigs of purple were left on his sleeve sometimes reminding him of you.

You helped each other tie the bundles together with some twine, two rings keeping it intact. His finger brushing against yours every now and then as if he couldn't go without your touch.

Fire, like the Autumn court was vital to your magic tied to the forest. The bundles lit with flames, the smoke cleansing and washing away the dirt and ash you'd burnt in the cauldron. You waved it through the air and walked through the scented fog, drawing up and down, around your figure until it burnt down to your fingertips.

Eris's magic consumed the dried herbs and petals quickly. He took the remnants of yours and held it above the crown of your head, slowly circling you and kneeling at your feet to cleanse all of you.

You cupped his face in your hands, the pad of your thumb tracing his sharp cheekbone. Leaning down you kissed him and leant away, pressing your forehead to his.

"Is this worshipping enough for you, me beloved?" He said rising from his knees and wrapping his fingers around your wrists. You knew time was not on your side today, the little you had left crumbling away.

"One more ritual, my love," you murmured against his lips, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss him once again. He hummed as you pulled back, letting you guide him to the other side of the room.

You sunk to your knees, Eris doing the same. The platform raised on the floor, your altar. Dried oranges hung in a stringed line against the wall, orange candles in differing heights scattered the wooden surface. You'd collected some leaves, acorns and fruit to offer to the Goddess of Harvest, the one you thanked every year on the autumn equinox.

Eris had seen the seasonal changes of your altar, sometimes even helped you find things to place on it. He'd brought you back seashells from the summer court for the summer solstice, roses from spring for the spring equinox and a vial of snow for the winter solstice. Little things you'd never witnessed stuck in one court.

You'd kept a seashell by your bed, listening to the waves as you cupped it to your ear. A dusky pink rose still full of life, where you'd spelled it to last till your last breath. You treasured the gifts Eris gave, hoping that what you offered to him was enough.

Closing your eyes, you felt the familiar warmth slip into your clasped hands, you stole a glance to Eris beside you, whose eyes were also shut. "Goddess of harvest, we thank you for guiding us through this year and helping us grow. Through hard work and consistency we have thrived, asking once again for you to look over us as we navigate a new path. We shred ourselves of old thoughts and shadowselves, to welcome in the good, the light."

Eris squeezed your hand, gratitude surging through you as the weight of his hand reassured you of all the good. The light in him, that he rarely showed to others. You hoped one day you wouldn't be confined to the forests and he wouldn't have to conceal his true self.

"This candle is a symbol for the light we are open to receiving," you whispered, opening your eyes you're met with a flame dancing on the wick before you. The light he gave you.

You picked up an acorn from the altar and slipped it in the pocket of his Eris's lining. "It's for good luck." You often gave him small objects for luck or protection, he'd joked about not having enough shelf space for any more stones or crystals.

"Thank you," he said rising from the floor. He offered you a hand and helped you stand with him. "Afraid our time is up." The hard lines settled on his face, lips straight and pursed as he put his mask back on.

"Let me walk with you," you said, arm sliding around his back as you walked out the door with him.

The sun had risen, fog parting as you traipsed through the tall grass. In the depth of the forest, you were able to roam freely, the outskirts however is where you could not step over, as if there was an invisible wall keeping you from the heart of the court. The core of it your garden, no one dared to enter it so it gave you the opportunity to spend extra time with Eris as he walked back to his duties.

And you would watch him step over the boundary and wonder if you'd ever be able to follow him.

Since its nearly autumn equinox I wanted to do some prompts for it :) there's other characters to come - Yiiyii

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris fanfic #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris x you #acotar eris #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra fluff #eris fic #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader

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