#Any other character are so entertaining to watch and think about

[headspace-hotel]

yesterday I LOCKED IN and read BOTH of the books I got from the library. the first one was mediocre so I won't discuss it, but the second one I LOVED

It was Girls And Their Horses by Eliza Jane Brazier and I picked it up because a book about a bunch of rich people and equestrian drama sounded really fun and really, I had been looking for a suspense book about horses

At the beginning of the book, every character is a horrible trash fire and most of them are deeply miserable people, and it's entertaining just watching them make terrible decisions and be awful and dysfunctional to each other. And the book easily could have been just rubbernecking at the gruesome collisions of their dysfunctions, but instead there was actual character growth and development and the characters became sympathetic and nuanced without erasing any of their deeply ingrained traumas and entitlement and lack of insight into themselves, which really took it above and beyond.

One of the POV characters is a 13 year old and the author did a great job at writing her. She felt like my memories of being 13, not some adult trying to synthesize what they imagined a 13 year old would be like. A lot of her story was painfully relatable, especially trying to fit in with girls that bully you and are awful to you because you just want friends.

Also, the author is clearly experienced with horses and knows a LOT about horses, she knows exactly what she's talking about. This is something I'm a sucker for in books: being immersed in something that's relatively unfamiliar to me by an author whose real life experiences are poured into the book.

I have decided Goodreads is complete garbage. I checked out what the goodreads reviews had to say after I finished it and a lot of the top reviews were negative. Their criticisms are:

the girls were too mean to each other and i didn't want to read about mean girl drama (what did you think the book was going to be about)

I would like to never read the word 'horse' again as it was used literally hundreds of times (WHAT DID YOU THINK THE BOOK WAS GOING TO BE ABOUT)

unlikeable characters that needed to be in therapy (yes that's the point)

Goodreads reviewers have a serious problem with characters that are supposed to be unlikeable.

[fantasticfourthwingimagines]

Choose to Change Pairing - Xaden Riorson x Marked!Reader Summary - After two years of being separated, you're finally reunited with your best friends in the Rider's Quadrant. After losing everything, it almost feels like being home again having Xaden at your side. That feeling only increases when Xaden's dragon spends the night with her mate, revealing feelings you'd both held onto for so long. Then a letter arrives from Poromiel, and now you have to decide. Which are you going to let Xaden choose? You, or your home? Word Count - THIS IS 18.5K. IT'S SO LONG I'M SO SORRY Playlist Warnings - Language, Canon typical violence, death (not of a main character), SMUT 18+ ONLY.

Your boots had barely hit solid ground after that godsdamn balance beam of death when your heart lurched with a single thought: find them. It had been at least two years since you had seen their faces, and you had been counting down the days for at least a year now. As much as you hated the situation that brought all of you here, getting to lay your eyes on Xaden and Garrick would be worth it. 

You told your name to the roll keeper, fighting the urge to punch the guy in the face when he gave you a look of total disgust, but quickly moved on. You scanned the crowd, heart pounding against your ribs like a war drum. Too many unfamiliar faces. You wouldn’t even entertain the idea that either of them wouldn’t make it. 

Then - there. To your left, half-shadowed by the building. He was still tall, unmistakable, and your breath caught.

A smile so wide it felt like it was splitting your cheeks formed on your face. “Xaden!” You yelled, not caring if anyone heard you. 

As soon as he heard your voice, he turned around, and you watched his expression ease into relief, before a smile just for you lit his whole face. His smiles were so rare, you kept a special box for every single one, and locked this one up tight with the others. 

You crashed into him like gravity had been waiting years for this moment. His arms locked around you, solid and unshakable, and you clung back like a drowning person breaching the surface. 

The scent of mint and something uniquely him filled your lungs, and your knees nearly gave out from the relief of it. Of him. Emotion clogged your throat, and you closed your eyes. You’d missed him. You’d missed him so, so much, and it had killed you, not being able to be around him after everything that had happened. When they burned your mother alive, you’d had nothing left but the ghost of Xaden’s voice in your ears, and then he was gone too, like the world was determined to peel everything from you piece by piece. 

Now here he was, right where you needed him to be. 

You placed your chin on his chest, looking up . . . and up until you met those beautiful dark eyes. “Have you gotten taller?” 

His smile widened, a teasing tilt of his lips that had some hidden anxiety in your chest unfurling. “I think you’ve just gotten shorter.” His thumb rubbed circles at the base of your skull, and his eyes roved over your face like he was committing it to memory. 

Your body melted at the relaxing touch, and you couldn’t even be annoyed at his words. You tucked your head back against his chest, nuzzling into it once more. “Fuck you,” you muttered, but the words lacked any bite, your voice cracking a little as you burrowed into him. How could you be annoyed by the quip when it felt like the pieces of your broken soul might be starting to fit back together again?

A small chuckle left him, and you felt the slightest touch of his lips against the top of your head, sending warmth from his touch all the way to your toes. 

“Well, don’t mind me. I’ll just continue to stand here until someone remembers I exist.” A voice interrupted the tender moment. 

Turns out you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad about it either though. You’d missed that asshole too. “Might be standing there for a while then, Tavis.” You teased, turning your head against Xaden’s chest to grin at him. Your hands still lingered on Xaden, and you had to remind yourself that he wasn’t going to disappear if you weren’t touching him. 

“Ouch. Good to know you’re still insistent on keeping me humble.” Garrick’s grin was full of teasing as he held his arms open. “Now get over here and hug your second favorite person.” 

You didn’t want to let go. Every part of you screamed to stay, but you’d missed Garrick’s bear hugs. You peeled yourself away and ran the few feet to Garrick, letting him pull you into a hug so tight he lifted you off your feet. “I missed you, jerk.” You murmured, those emotions clogging your throat again. 

His tone turned serious, and he squeezed you so hard you could barely breathe. “I missed you too, half-pint.” Garrick said. 

You groaned at the nickname, and it made him laugh as he sat you down on the ground. “And that is why you’re only my second favorite person until Imogen gets here. Then you’re getting bumped down to third.” 

He shook his head at you, but smiled as he looked between you and Xaden. “Guess the real question is if you’re going to bump Xaden down too.” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. 

You stuck your tongue out at him in a very mature way. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“I would.” Xaden said from behind you, his fingers brushing the small of your back again. 

You grinned over your shoulder at him, and couldn’t help but lean back into his touch. After going so long without it, you were going to soak up every second you had of his hands on your body. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” 

It was at that point they called all the new cadets to formation so they could sort all of you into wings. As you started heading to your designated locations, shivers exploded over your body when Xaden leaned down and whispered in your ear. “I already know the answer.” He whispered, warm breath ghosting your ear. “I just wanted to hear you say it.” 

You elbowed him in the side, pretending not to melt. Then you tucked that smile he was giving you away, top shelf, front and center, with all the others you’d never let yourself forget. 

——————————

You didn’t bother knocking anymore. You hadn’t knocked on Xaden’s door since the second day he moved into it. You barged in like you belonged there, like the air inside was easier to breathe than your own. You passed the desk where he sat in a chair, quill in his hand as he worked through what you assumed was homework, and flopped yourself across his sheets. Your limbs were splayed, and you sank into the familiar softness. His scent clung to the sheets, mint and leather, and it wrapped around you like a second skin. You let out a sigh. 

Nothing. 

You tried again, letting out an even louder sigh this time. 

He still ignored you. 

You tilted your head to watch him, cheek smushed into the comforter, and let out the loudest, most exaggerated sigh you could manage. 

His quill didn’t stop moving, but you caught it - the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “By all means, sleep.” He said without looking up. “You’ve clearly exhausted yourself doing nothing.” 

You threw his pillow at him. “I have done something, asshole.” 

“Oh? What?” He asked, catching the pillow with one hand, and turning his attention to you. 

“That second year.” You replied, letting out another groan. “It was not worth it.” 

“You always did have questionable taste.” Xaden said, turning his gaze back to his work. 

But his hand tightened around his quill, just for a second.  

Weird. 

“Hey, it’s hard to find someone worthy when you had the very best for your first kiss.” You teased, smirking over at him. 

There it was again, the tiniest twitch in the corner of his mouth. “We were ten.” 

“And . . .” 

He didn’t try to hide the smile anymore, turning in his chair to face you. “You bit my lip. Then ran away before I could even say anything.” 

You gasped, mock-offended. “I blushed and tripped over that dog that was hanging around your house for a while. There’s a difference.” 

“He didn’t like you for a week after that.” 

“He had no taste either apparently.” 

Xaden shook his head at you again, “You’re impossible.” 

You pouted at him. “So what you’re saying is, it wasn’t the best kiss of your life?” 

“I repeat, you’re impossible.” 

“I’d be less impossible if you’d come over here.” You said, patting the spot beside your head. “Especially after being stuck with that idiot for the last few hours.” 

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He stood, crossed the room, and sat beside you without a word. 

You lifted your head to rest in his lap, like you’d done a hundred times, and his hand slid into your hair, fingertips gentle and sure. 

Your eyes fluttered closed. Gods, this is what comfort really felt like. Not that awkward fumbling.  Not that second year's clumsy hands. This. 

When you opened your eyes again, he was frowning down at you as he ran his fingers through your hair. “What did he do?” 

You sighed, not faking this time. “He just wanted to fuck a marked one to say he did it.” 

The fire, anger, sparked in Xaden’s eyes, and you knew you had to quell it or that second year would show up mysteriously murdered later. 

“I took care of it, Xay. You don’t have to worry.” You told him, closing your eyes once more as your whole body relaxed when he resumed stroking your hair. Something about the way his fingers moved put you almost in a trance, “He has a nice new scar to show how stupid he is.” 

You could hear the smile in his voice when he responded. “That’s my girl.” His voice was low, proud and warm, like it had never stopped being true. 

You couldn’t help but smile. As much as this place felt like hell, it somehow felt like heaven too. Getting to be with the boys you grew up with, getting to have these quiet moments with Xaden again? It was all that you’d been craving for years now. In fact, if this was all you got to have the rest of your life? You think you’d be okay with that. 

When you opened your eyes again, and looked up at Xaden, you couldn’t help but question though, would he? He was so handsome. Easily the most gorgeous guy in the quadrant, probably the whole college, and pretty soon, someone was going to get brave enough to flirt with him. You wondered if that was something he wanted. 

You sure didn’t like the way the thought made your heart squeeze, and suddenly you had to know. “Xaden?” 

“Mhmm?” 

“Anybody caught your eye here?” You asked, biting your lip, and trying to ignore the way your heart wouldn’t slow down. 

He stared at you, and by the slight smirk tilting a corner of his lips, you got the distinct impression that he saw right through your question. “As if you’d let anyone else steal my attention.” 

Heat rushed to your face, and a warmth filled your chest. “If it was something you wanted- I could learn to share.” 

Xaden shook his head with a soft smile. “No you couldn’t, but it’s not something I want anyway.” 

You couldn’t deny the relief that his words sent through your body. Despite what he said, if Xaden wanted someone, you would learn to share his attention. You would hate it, because it would mean moments like this with him wouldn’t exist anymore, but you would do it if it meant his happiness. Knowing that you didn’t have to worry about that though? At least for right now? It took a little weight off your chest. Your hand reached up, tugging on his shirt. “If you do decide that’s something you want, you’ll tell me right?” 

Xaden reached for the hand holding his shirt, taking it in his own, and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll tell you.” He promised. 

You closed your eyes again, a slow smile forming on your lips as he continued to stroke your hair, knowing that for right now, you didn’t have to share. 

Maybe you should have told him then that he wouldn’t have to share either. Ever. But the next week, when Xaden challenged that second year that tried to take advantage of you, and then proceeded to wipe the floor with him on the mat, you got the feeling you didn’t have to. 

Xaden wasn’t going to share you either. 

——————————

The landing jarred every bruised bone in your body. You were covered in blood. It filled your mouth with its copper taste. It dripped from your forehead and into your right eye. It still leaked from your thigh despite the makeshift tourniquet. You pushed all of that aside though, because despite the attack, you were now bonded to a fucking dragon. 

“You would not be bleeding so much had you come when I called.” She said, tone dry.

You tried not to gasp at the pain in your thigh as you slid off her, landing on shaky legs, but you made it. “No, I wouldn’t be bleeding so much if the fucking crown Prince of Navarre hadn’t sent his little army after me.” When you had felt the pull of your new dragon Ailith, you had come across a secret meeting and overheard Alic’s plans to capture you and Garrick to lure Xaden out and kill him. Problem with that was that he hadn’t done his homework, sending five half trained cadets after you like you were something frail. “Besides,” you patted her leg. “Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the show. After all, you could’ve helped.” 

“If you couldn’t take on five poorly trained cadets you were unworthy of my bond.” She huffed, then added, “Though I admit, it was entertaining to watch.” 

You couldn’t help but agree. 

Her head snapped to the side, as if she could hear something you could not. “I believe your friends are very concerned for your safety.” Her head tilted. “Sgaeyl reports the taller one particularly agitated.” 

Xaden. 

You almost collapsed with relief, or you supposed it could be blood loss at this point. “They’re okay?” You asked, your voice breaking on the last word.

She turned her gaze back to you, and her golden eyes softened the smallest fraction. “They are injured, but they will be fine, fierce one.” She assured you. 

You heard your name being called, and turned around in just enough time to be lifted off your feet into a hug by a bruised and bloody Garrick. “Fuck, am I glad to see you.” He muttered, his voice cracking as he held you against him. 

“I’m glad to see you too.” You said, and you couldn’t be sure whether that was more blood or tears running down your cheek. “I tried - I tried to hold them off when I heard they were coming, I ran to try and distract them, but they split up and-”

“Is she okay?” A familiar voice interrupted the two of you. 

You lifted your head off Garrick’s shoulder. 

A cut sliced through his eyebrow. A bruise painted his jaw. But he was here. Breathing. Alive. “Xaden,” you exhaled. 

Garrick, sensing that you needed someone else now, placed you down on the ground in time for Xaden to step forward, cupping your face in his hands. You watched as his eyes seemed to catalogue every single visible injury on your body, and then traveled back up to meet yours. 

If you didn’t know Xaden, you would miss it. The tense jaw, the rigid shoulders, the icy glint in his eyes. Then there was the slight tremor in his hands, the crack in his armor. Xaden, who was usually the picture of control, was about to lose it. 

You placed your hand on his chest, rubbing right above his heart. “I’m fine, Xaden.” When his eyes narrowed at you, you corrected. “Okay, mostly fine.”

“How many?” His voice was low, dangerous. 

“Five.” You drew a rune with your finger on his chest, right over his heart. Slow and deliberate, just between the two of you. You wondered if he’d pick up on it. “They underestimated me.” You smirked. 

You had been hoping that you would get at least a small smile, but nothing. “Where are you hurt the worst?” He asked. 

“Xaden,” you frowned. “I’m fine-”

There was a growl from behind you, and you heard Ailith’s voice in your mind. “You are not fine. Let the tall one help you before I reconsider my choice of rider.” 

You sighed, bone-deep. Was this your new reality now? Blood loss, bossy dragons, and being taken half-dead into tents? “My thigh is still bleeding pretty badly.” You admitted. 

Without a word, Xaden scooped you up in his arms, only putting you down long enough to tell your dragon’s name to the roll keeper, and then you were back in his arms being carried to the makeshift healer's tent. He was warm and steady, one of the only things in your day that hadn’t tried to kill you, so while it caused stares, you couldn’t bring yourself to protest. 

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur. You barely remembered the healer’s hands or the stab of the needle. Just flashes of light, Garrick’s murmured voice, and Xaden’s hovering shadow. 

Hours later, while everyone else was out celebrating their new bonds and another day of survival, your body decided it was too beat up to do so. You found yourself laying in bed instead, about to drift off in exhaustion when someone knocked on your door. 

When you opened it, you weren’t surprised to find Xaden there. He stared into your eyes for a moment, then walked in, shutting the door behind him. Within seconds you were wrapped up in the hug you’d been waiting for since you landed on the ground this afternoon. 

Your knees buckled, but his arms were already there, anchoring you to him. Every bit of tension and pain in your body was shoved aside as Xaden held you in his arms, his hands cradling you against him like you were something precious. You felt him kiss the stitches on your hairline, but refused to wince. You’d endure anything for that kind of touch. 

“I wish I could kill him again for this.” 

You didn’t respond. There wasn’t anything to say. The fury in his voice said everything. 

Xaden didn’t say anything else. He just continued to hold you. For a moment you wondered if he needed this more than you.

Unfortunately your leg, still burning, started to throb, and you knew you needed to lay back down. You didn’t want him to leave though. The thought of sleeping alone felt like asking your body to fall apart again. You needed him close. Pulling back enough to look in his eyes, you asked, “stay with me tonight?” 

His brow furrowed, concern etched on his face, and almost as if he could sense your thoughts, he frowned. “Is your leg still bothering you?” 

You hesitated, then nodded. There was no point in lying, not to him. 

Like earlier, he swept you right up into his arms, carrying you to your bed. He didn’t have to, it was steps away, but he did, settling you onto it. As soon as you were comfortable on your side, he slid in behind you, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back as his breath brushed the curve of your neck and his arms wrapped around you. 

This was what you needed. More than anything the healers or menders could give you. You snuggled back against him, closing your eyes and trying not to shiver at the movement of his thumb stroking up and down your stomach. “What happened?” You asked, needing to know. 

Xaden tensed, his arms tightening around you, fingers still moving against your stomach in slow, grounding strokes. You could feel his jaw clench near your temple. “I found them trying to kill Garrick. There were at least ten of them. Apparently Alic had spent a lot of time amassing his own little posse.” 

“Probably didn’t take much. Everyone wants to kiss the ass of the possible future king.” You grumbled. 

“Garrick was taking on two, and I was up against Alic.” Xaden continued. “He wouldn’t shut up. He kept talking about how he was doing us all a favor, taking us out now. That no one expected us to make it any farther than right here. If they didn’t take us out now, the dragons would. They were loyal to Navarre and would burn us the moment they got the chance.” 

Your hand reached up and started stroking Xaden’s arm, tracing along the lines of his relic. “Guess the jokes on them since we all bonded.” 

“Then he started talking about you. How he hoped they were taking their time with you. How he was hoping we were close enough to hear you scream when they finished you off.” Xaden said, his voice was dark, sharp as the edge of his swords as his arms tightened around you. “He should have shut up.” 

“They taunted me too.” You admitted. “Said they couldn’t wait to see you and Garrick’s traitor blood spilled. How they’d keep doing it until there was none of us left.” You took a shaky breath, your anger spiking at the thought. “It makes me want to scream that they’re so concerned with having us here when there’s a much larger problem out there staring them in the face.” 

“Unless someone does something about it.” 

You knew that tone. You looked over your shoulder to find his eyes watching you, as if waiting for your reaction. “What’s your plan?” You asked, because you knew by that voice he had one. 

Xaden smirked. 

And you knew everything was about to change.

——————————

A sharp, frantic pounding at your door tore you from sleep like a blade to your spine. It felt like you had just laid down, and you couldn’t be more irritated. You wanted to ignore it, curl back into the sheets, but the knocking was insistent. You groaned, walking over to the door and opening it. “You better have a damn good reason - Xaden?” 

You’d never seen him like this. You’d known him almost your whole life, and you’d never seen him so . . . on edge. His jaw was clenched so tight you thought his teeth might crack. His eyes were fixed on the ground, shadows pooled under them like bruises. He stood rigid in your doorway, more like a storm held in human form than a man. “I can’t shut her out.” He croaked, still not looking at you. 

There was one “she” he could be talking about, but . . . why would he need to shut her out? “Sgaeyl?” You tried to confirm. 

His only response was a stiff nod. 

Your mind drifted to that sapphire blue bond, still fresh in your mind after only a few months. “Is Sgaeyl okay?” You asked Ailith. 

You could have sworn you heard . . . A chortle of laughter in response. “Sgaeyl is more than fine,” Ailith purred, smug and infuriating. “She’s entangled in matters of great passion. Unfortunately, so is her rider.”  

You frowned, feeling like there was a joke you were missing out on. “What does that mean? Xaden is . . . barely hanging on right now.” 

Her response was even more amused. “Sgaeyl is spending time with her mate, and the tall one needs to work on his shields.” 

Your eyes widened. Was she implying - “Xaden, what are you feeling?” You asked quietly. 

His eyes snapped to yours, black with barely restrained hunger, and your breath caught. Then they dropped, slowly, deliberately, dragging down the length of your body like a physical caress. Your skin burned in his gaze, each inch branded by want. “What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Wearing?” Xaden grunted out, and you let out a breath as his hands gripped your door frame, fingers digging into the stone. 

You glanced down, your frown deepening as you looked at the gown. “This is what I sleep in, Xaden,” you glanced up at him again, more and more concerned with his behavior. You reached out to him and grabbed his flight jacket, trying to tug him inside. “Come in before someone sees-”

“Don’t,” he ground out, stumbling back like your fingers were fire. “If you touch me right now, I will lose every shred of control I have left.” 

“This is almost as entertaining as watching you kill all those cadets,” Ailith’s voice spoke down the bond again. 

You didn’t find it so amusing. 

“How do I help him?” You asked. You didn’t like feeling like this. So powerless to do anything but watch him suffer. 

“I believe you can figure that out on your own.” Ailith dismissed, humor still in her voice as a wall slammed down between your connection, and she cut you off. 

You almost growled in frustration, but stopped when you locked eyes on Xaden who was still so tense you were afraid he was going to break something. “Why can’t I touch you, Xaden?” You whispered. 

His eyes darkened. “Because if you touch me-“ Xaden rasped, jaw clenched. “I won’t be able to stop. I’ll take and take until I’ve had every inch of you - and even that might not be enough.” 

It all clicked into place then. Why Xaden was so freaked out. Why he was looking at you like he was starving. Ailith’s words about Sgaeyl and her mate. Xaden not being able to shut her out. You hadn’t been bonded long, but you knew what it was like to have your dragon’s emotions override your own. 

Xaden was being consumed by lust. 

And the only person he trusted to see him like this, so out of control, was you. 

Your heart thudded against your chest at the implications. You knew how you could help him. The question was, if he’d let you. 

You reached out again, and this time he didn’t stop you, staring into your eyes as you tugged him inside your room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as you let go of him, his trembling hands landed on your hips. His nose dragged along your neck, inhaling like he was trying to breathe you into his lungs, his lips brushing the spot below your ear as his breath stuttered out, hot and shaky.  

You should’ve been scared, of what this might mean, of what it could ruin. But all you could think about was how long you’d wanted him like this. Wild. Unraveled. Yours. 

“Let me help you.” You whispered, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his soft curls. “Even if it’s the bond.” You hated how your heart cracked around the truth. Even if it meant nothing in the morning. 

Xaden’s fingers dug in so hard to your hips you were sure there would be bruises. “I won’t use you.” He grunted against your neck. 

You pulled back enough to look into his eyes. Then, you took one of his hands, and slid it down your side, keeping your gaze locked on his as you slid the warm, calloused hand under your gown. “You need a release.” You took a shaky breath as he started rubbing circles on your inner thigh with his thumb. “I could do with one too.” 

He shuddered, visibly shaken as he touched your skin, letting out a sharp breath. “You’re so fucking soft.” He growled, each word dragging rough and reverent against your skin. His lips brushed your ear, and your breath hitched. “You always have been.” 

A current of heat and anticipation skated across your skin like lightning, your nerves humming as your hands slid up his chest, memorizing every inch. “And you . . . are definitely not soft.” 

Xaden let out a choked laugh, and you held your breath as his lips brushed across your skin once more with the slightest touch. 

A soft sigh escaped you, and you bit your lip. “Let me help you, Xaden.” You whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. “Please.” You knew it was going to hurt, but you also knew it was going to be amazing. The pain would be worth every second of being with him. 

Xaden pulled back then, to look into your eyes, and his facial expression almost looked pained. As if he wanted to give in, but something was still holding him back. “You have no idea what you mean to me.” Xaden said, his voice almost shattered. “I can’t risk-”

“I want you, Xaden,” the words slipped from your lips before you could think, rough and bare and years overdue. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d ever look at me like this. But this isn’t pity. This is five years of wanting you and trying not to show it. I want your hands on me. I want you in every way there is.” 

He continued to look at you, searching your eyes, and you weren’t sure what he was looking for, but you knew the moment he found it. His eyes darkened, and one of his hands reached up to cup your cheek. “. . . Fuck,” he said, the word broken and more fragile than you’d ever heard him speak, but you didn’t have time to linger on it. 

Because then, as if all the restraint in him snapped, Xaden crushed his mouth to yours. 

The world fractured at the seams - air, time, thought, all vanished. You didn’t just kiss him, you collapsed into him. Into five years of yearning, into every held breath and unsaid word. You didn’t melt. You burned. 

Xaden didn’t kiss. He consumed. His mouth was all hunger and heat, stealing every breath, every thought, until nothing was left but raw sensation and the addictive rush of him. And still, it wasn’t enough. You’d let him take everything - soul, breath, sanity - and offer up more with trembling hands.  

He groaned against your lips, his arm tightening around you to hold you steady even though you hadn’t even realized you’d been swaying. He parted your lips skillfully and tilted your head for an angle that had you seeing stars. 

Gods, kissing had never felt like this, like worship and destruction all at once. Was it because you’d only kissed lousy kissers, or was it because it was Xaden? You had a feeling it was the second. Your hands clenched into fists in his shirt because even though he was holding you up, the strokes of his tongue had you weak. You started feeling as out of control as him, all of your energy focused on kissing him back, pouring out every inch of desire into him. When the hand on your thigh slid up and he brushed your heated core, you couldn’t help but let out a whimper, wanting him there desperately. 

Xaden pulled away from your lips, letting out a shaky exhale, his fingers dug into your thigh beneath your gown, possessive, shaking. “I can’t be gentle right now,” he rasped, voice wrecked.

You let your gaze meet his, and you were sure your eyes were as dark and hazy as his when you tugged at his shirt sharply. “Who said I wanted gentle?” you breathed, dragging him closer. “I want you.” 

Whatever lingering control Xaden had vanished. 

One moment you were staring up at him, the next heartbeat your back was against your desk. Objects clattered to the floor - books, bottles, maybe your sanity - but none of it mattered. He was everywhere, and he was kissing you again, every single delicious inch of him pressed against you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. His mouth was relentless, and you chased every kiss like it might be your last, sighing at the delicate slide of your tongue against his. He tasted like chocolate and churam, and you were almost positive you could get high off of it. 

His hands weren’t hesitant anymore. They roamed all over your body, dragging over your skin in a way that had chills racing down your spine. You tugged him even closer, gasping as one of his hands made its way to your breast and squeezed, sending a shockwave of pleasure down your spine. “Xaden . . .” His name left your lips like a prayer, like a plea, your body arching into every devastating stroke of his hand. 

Then you decided it was your turn. Your hand was the one exploring now, slipping through the narrow space between you, savoring how Xaden’s muscles tensed like a drawn bow beneath your touch - right up until you reached his leathers. After a second of hesitation, you reached in and gripped him in your hand, hot and heavy. 

He moved, spinning you so fast your breath hitched and your hand shot out to steady yourself on the desk. One of his hands landed on your hip while the other gripped the strands of your hair in his fist. A breath escaped as he tugged your head back against his shoulder, his grip in your hair firm, but not causing pain. “Not yet,” Xaden murmured, and then his mouth was on your skin again. 

You were going to combust. Heat, power, and want flooded your bloodstream, tangled with the bliss of his lips. He kissed every exposed inch of you until he reached the spot where your neck met your collarbone. Your heart stopped for a moment as he paused, and then he was sucking, biting, marking you as his. 

Oh gods. The idea of being his, claimed, marked, had your toes curling. You arched your hips back into him with a moan, desperate for more friction, more of him. You’d never needed something so much in your life, but if you didn’t get him inside of you soon, you were sure you were going to combust. “Xaden, I need you.” You whispered. 

His hand moved low to your stomach and held you there, rolling his hips and making you moan again. “Say that again,” he said, whispering the words in your ear. 

“I need you inside me, Xay,” you whispered again, and felt him shudder. Whether it was from the desperation in your voice or the nickname no one else dared use, you didn’t know, but it did something to him.  

The next heartbeat though his hand was back under your gown, another heartbeat and he had slipped it through the front of your underwear and between your thighs, his fingers slow, deliberate, devastating. Your knees buckled, and if he hadn’t been holding you, you were sure you would have fallen. 

“Fuck . . .” Xaden groaned, slipping another finger inside easily with how wet you were. “Is this all it takes, beautiful? My mouth, my hands, and you’re already this wet for me?” 

Embarrassment didn’t even register. “You’ve clearly underestimated how long I’ve wanted you.” You breathed, letting out a whimper as his thumb pressed against your clit. 

His hand let go of your hair, and slid around the front of your body, taking hold of your breast again. His touch was scorching even through the thin silk of your nightgown. The only thing that would feel better was his hand on your skin. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Xaden murmured, then cruelly, he slipped his fingers out of you. 

Your hips followed him, desperate for his touch again, but in a move that left you gasping, his hand grabbed your underwear and ripped them clean off of you. As soon as they were out of the way, two fingers slipped back inside of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. 

“How many times I’ve wanted to kill someone just for looking at you like they had a chance?” Xaden continued, as your head fell back against his shoulder. “You’re mine, no matter how many others you play with, they don’t matter. You are mine.” 

He was going to destroy you. Either with his words or his touch you weren’t sure. Gods had he really been feeling this way? Or was this the bond getting the better of him? You didn’t have time to dwell on it, because in the next moment his fingers slipped out of you again, leaving you aching as you slumped against him. Then you heard the unmistakable sound of his leathers dropping behind him, and when he pulled your hips back against him, you let out a low moan. 

This was happening. Xaden was about to fuck you, and it wasn’t some fever dream you’d wake up from, ashamed and alone. This was real.  

He took one of his legs and pushed yours further apart while his hands slid your nightgown up to your hips. “Tell me that no one else has mattered. Tell me that you want me.” Xaden growled in your ear, and you whimpered as he ran his cock along your slit. 

Gods he expected you to form words right now? If you hadn’t already thought the words, you would’ve been too blissed out to say them. “They were nothing. Placeholders for nights when I got lonely because I couldn’t have you.” You admitted breathlessly, as you arched your hips back against him, needing him inside you more than you needed air. “Xaden, please . . .” 

His hand flexed at your hip, and a shiver went down your spine as his lips brushed your ear. “You told me to tell you if I wanted someone. I do.” Your heart stopped as he paused at your entrance. “It’s you.” 

Then, in one deep thrust, he slammed inside of you. 

His hand covered your mouth to stifle your cry as he filled you up more than anyone ever had. While one of your hands clutched at the edge of the table, the other reached up and grabbed his wrist, digging into his skin as your eyes closed at the intensity of this moment. 

Gods you didn’t even have the right words to describe the pleasure that was pouring through your body. The closest thing you could think of was when you were flying and Ailith would go into a sudden dive. The adrenaline would crawl up your throat, all encompassing, exuberant. It was one of your favorite things. However the pleasure, the intimacy of having Xaden inside of you, topped it. 

“Are you okay?” His voice sounded almost underwater with the sound of blood rushing to your ears, but you heard him. 

You nodded, and then tugged his hand down from your mouth so he could hear you. “Don’t stop. You feel perfect.” You said breathlessly. Then, unable to help yourself, you pressed back against him, looking for that friction again and moaning when you found it. Godsdamn you were never going to get enough of this. 

“Fuck,” Xaden’s voice was raw, almost tortured, and this time there was no stopping him. He pushed down on your back until your chest was resting on top of the desk, and then slid out of you for the briefest moment to push himself back in roughly. The whole desk shook with the force of it, and you cried out again as the new angle caused him to hit even deeper inside of you. 

Xaden didn’t bother to muffle your voice this time. 

As promised, he wasn’t gentle. His pace was rough, bruising. He used a hand on the small of your back to hold you down to the table while he pounded into you, keeping you in place while his other hand dug into your hip. You’d seen Xaden out of control, rarely, but never like this. It was as if everything that you knew he kept inside of him was being unleashed, and it added an extra level of intimacy to the moment knowing that he felt safe enough to do it with you. 

You loved every second of it. 

Pleasure curled low in your stomach as heat rushed through your body, and you felt a familiar rush of power flooding you. Almost as if he could sense it, Xaden’s pace picked up even more until you could barely keep up, your hands digging into the sides of the table. “Xaden . . .” You moaned, not even sure what you were asking for. All that you knew was that you needed more.

He seemed to know though. His hand that was around your back slid around to slip between your thighs, touching you in a way that would have made you fall to your knees if you hadn't already been across the desk. His other slid up your side to cover your hand, entwining your fingers with his large ones. Xaden said your name then, raw and vulnerable, and you closed your eyes at the sound of it and the emotions it stirred in you. “I’m not going to make it long with you squeezing me like that.” He groaned, his hand tightening around yours. 

You hadn’t even realized you’d been doing it. Your body reacting before your mind could even catch up with what was happening. “Don’t care,” you managed to say. “I’m so close too.” You told him, letting out another cry as he slammed to you again, hitting a spot that had you seeing stars. 

Your words seemed to egg him on, and his pace became relentless. There was no time to breathe, no time to absorb anything that was happening. It was a build up of pleasure that was moments away from crashing over you and dragging you under. You felt Xaden lean over the desk, his lips finding your ear again. “I’ve got you. Let go.” He whispered, and then brought his lips down to your neck while rubbing your clit. 

Like your body had been waiting for permission, you exploded. Your whole body tensed, then released in waves of bliss almost like when you were using Ailith’s power. You know you called out his name, squeezing his hand so you didn’t lose him in the ocean of pleasure he’d dragged you into. 

Some part of you heard his grunt of, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” while he sped up even more than you thought was possible until he released inside of you. 

Glass shattered, and darkness swallowed the room. 

“Xaden!” You gasped, panic widening your eyes as your other hand reached for him. 

“It’s me,” He said, taking your other hand like an anchor, and you watched as the blackness - the shadows - slithered back toward him, curling along the walls like smoke. “I’ve never - I’ve never done that.” His muscles released against your back, and you felt the most gentle kiss against your shoulder as your breathing went back to normal. 

And as soft light returned to the room, your eyes landed on the plant in your window, once a modest size, now curled up the whole height of your wall, the pot it had been in shattered on the ground. “Yeah . . . I’ve never done that either.” You breathed, eyes wide.

Gods. That had really happened.

A slow, satisfied smile formed on your lips as feeling started to return to your body. Sensation returned in pieces: the cold press of wood against your cheek, the edge of a scroll digging into your stomach, the delicious heat of Xaden flush against your back - 

You laughed, unable to hold it in. “Gods, you didn’t even bother taking your shirt off.” 

There was silence for a moment, and then you heard one of your favorite sounds in the world. Even more rare than his smile. 

His laugh. 

You let out a sigh as he slid out of you, then gripped your waist, turning you around to face him. He looked so much calmer, more like the Xaden you knew, and not the desperate man who’d shown up at your door. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me without a shirt on.” Xaden said, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the view when I get it” You said, and you let your hands slip under his shirt, fingertips brushing the hard muscles of his abs that had your mouth watering and eager to trace them with your tongue. 

His eyes darkened, hands slipping lower to tease at the hem of your gown. 

You’d thought the fire had burned out, but no - he was already stroking it again. 

“You know, it’s not fair. You’ve seen me, but I haven’t seen you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Who’s fault is that?” 

Xaden smirked at you, “Can’t blame me for getting distracted when you’re wearing a gown like that.” His hands fisting in the fabric. 

A small smile tugged at your lips. The Deverelli silk clung like a whisper - barely there, hiding nothing. You loved the way it felt on your skin, but right now, all you wanted was Xaden. His hands. His lips. His everything. “Well, I’m all for fairness,” you said, and kept your eyes locked on him as you slipped the straps over your shoulders.

Xaden took it from there, tugging it down your hips, and your whole body heated once more as his eyes trailed over every inch of skin you revealed like he was memorizing it. Then he paused at a spot right above your heart. “When did you get that?” He asked, voice low, brow furrowing. 

Your heart stuttered for a moment, because you’d forgotten it existed until Xaden reminded you of it. You bit your bottom lip, unsure. You never thought you’d have to tell him, but there was no way you could lie to him after all that. “Right after our parents- ” You swallowed hard, the words crumbling in your throat before you could finish.

He didn’t need you to though. His thumb brushed across the scar again, the touch reverent. Then he glanced back up at you, his eyes still dark. “Who is it for?” 

You hesitated, but reached down to take his hand, sliding it up over the scar until his eyes met yours. “You took responsibility for everyone, no questions asked, but . . .” You squeezed his hand. “I wanted to have responsibility for you.” 

You’d never seen him like this, truly speechless. His gaze was locked on yours, and you watched emotion crash over his features in waves. Disbelief, guilt, sorrow, but then it changed to something else. Reverence, devotion, and for a second, something you were too scared to even put a name to. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough, even though it barely rose over a whisper. “You didn’t have to-”

You lifted his hand up to your lips. “I think we need to work on your communication skills, Xaden Riorson.” You said, pressing a delicate kiss to his palm. “Because I just told you, I wanted to.” 

His hand slid up to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb brushing across your jawline with aching tenderness. “You realize that mark means you’re stuck with me.” Xaden murmured, his eyes like twin pools of onyx locked on yours. 

“You should be more concerned that you’re stuck with me.” He would be. He was never getting rid of you now. 

One of those rare, gorgeous smiles tugged at his lips. The next heartbeat, his shirt hit the floor. The one after, he had you in the air, leaving you gasping with a laugh as you clung to his muscled body like a lifeline. Then your back hit the mattress and Xaden was on you, kissing you like a starving man, like you were the only thing in the world worth tasting.

——————————

You had no idea what time it was when your eyes opened, but you knew it was still dark outside your window so it couldn’t have been long. You stretched out on your bed with a soft, blissful sigh as memories of earlier curled around your thoughts like smoke. You rolled over, hoping to find an asleep Xaden, but instead you found him sitting up,  the moonlight catching on the map of scars across his bare back. You gave into the quiet pull in your chest and sat up, leaning forward to press a kiss against one. 

He tensed beneath your touch, and you sighed, running your hands up and down the steel lines of his biceps.

“If you try to make this weird, Xaden Riorson, I swear I’ll kick your ass.” You warned, your voice low but firm. 

You couldn’t see his face, but you saw the way his jaw clenched, the thoughts churning behind his silence. Before he could spiral, you cut in. 

“And remember, I know you. I know how your mind works, and don’t insult me by even thinking I’d let you use me like that. I’ve been dreaming about what happened for years.” You pressed a tender kiss to his shoulder. “So unless you’ve decided you don’t want me-”

Xaden turned to face you, his eyes narrowing at your words. “Don’t ever think that. I could be at Malek’s doorstep, and I’d still be craving you more than death.” 

His words sent your heartbeat stuttering, and suddenly you weren’t close enough. You climbed into his lap, sliding your arms around his neck. “Then don’t fight it.” You whispered, resting your forehead against his. 

Xaden wrapped his arms around you like he never planned to let go. “I can’t.” He let out a sigh, looking so deep into your eyes, you were sure he could see straight to your soul. “But if something happens . . . If this doesn’t work - I will not lose you.” 

You didn’t want to think about it not working. You didn’t want to think about the possibility of anything other than forever with him, but you knew why he had to say it. You and Xaden were entwined, far beyond the physical. Your souls had been tangled together since that ridiculous night Garrick locked you both in the kitchen and refused to let you out until you were best friends - right around the time Xaden handed you the bigger half of his chocolate cake without a word. Xaden owned too much of your soul to ever let him go, no matter what happened between the two of you. “You can’t lose me, Xaden.” You took his hand and pressed it over the scar above your heart. “You’re a part of me.” 

His eyes flared as he felt the scar under his palm, and then moved his hand so he could press a kiss against it. “And you’re a part of me.” 

Gods let that be enough. 

——————————

You paced from the edge of the courtyard to the stone pillar and back again, arms folded so tight they might bruise.

“You’re making me dizzy.” 

You ignored him. 

“Pacing back and forth is not going to make them show up any faster.” 

You gave him nothing. 

“Xaden, your girl is making me nauseous.” 

There was a sigh, and a large hand grabbed your wrist, tugging your back into a firm chest. “I swear, being around the two of you is like taking care of toddlers.” Xaden murmured, trapping you against him with an arm around your waist. 

“Let me go so I can actually make him nauseous.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You need to relax.” His breath brushed against your ear as he leaned in close. “They’re going to make it across. Like we did.” You let out a little sigh as he brushed a kiss to your cheek. “Worrying is not going to change anything. Besides, I thought I wore you out too much last night for you to be this wound up.”

Despite yourself, a little smile tugged at your lips as scenes from last night began to play in your mind, sending a wave of desire through your blood. “Guess not. You’ll have to make up for it tonight, Squad Leader.” You teased him. 

He bit your earlobe, just enough to make you shiver. “Greedy.” 

You laughed, cheeks flushing. 

“Okay now I’m really nauseous. I think I liked it better when you two were oblivious idiots.” Garrick said, pulling you and Xaden out of your moment. His words may have been annoyed, but the dimple in his cheek exposed how happy he was for the two of you. 

You flipped him off with a grin. “Don’t be jealous because Imogen’s not here for you to flirt with yet.” 

“Urgh, as if. Everyone knows the only person I’d flirt with here is you.” A familiar voice said. 

For the first time in a year, you willingly peeled yourself out of Xaden’s arms to tackle your best friend in a hug. “I knew you’d make that parapet your bitch.” You mumbled as you held her even tighter. 

She laughed, returning your hug just as strongly. “No way was I abandoning you with this duo of disaster. Well, trio now, I guess.” She said, and you looked up to see Bodhi grinning behind you. 

Relief swept through you, tension melting from your shoulders. While the danger wasn’t over, you could at least keep a better eye on them now. Especially since Xaden was a Squad Leader and Garrick an Executive Officer. Not for the Squad you were in, but still, it had its benefits. It also helped that everyone was scared shitless of Xaden. 

Except for you. 

You watched as he approached Bodhi, pulling back from Imogen so you could watch the two of them embrace. “It’s good to see you, cousin.” You heard Xaden say. 

Bodhi returned his hug. “You too.” His words were short, but you could feel the emotion rolling off of him in waves. They were thick with feeling. Relief. Gratitude. The ache of finally being with family. 

“Gotta say, Durran. Thought you would have grown at least a little since last time.” Garrick said with a grin as he embraced the younger boy. 

“What’s your excuse, Tavis?” Imogen said before Bodhi could even respond as you stepped forward to give him your own hug now. “I think you’ve gotten shorter since the last time I saw you.” 

You smirked. Gods, it had always been obvious, but now it was undeniable - Imogen and Garrick still had that spark. Even if they insisted on pretending otherwise. 

Xaden sighed, and a ribbon of shadow curled around your ankle, something new he’d just started to master. A quiet, intimate kind of claim. “I take it back.” He said, his hand settling on your hip as Garrick and Imogen’s bickering hit a new pitch. “I’d rather handle you and Garrick than them.” 

You grinned over at him. 

——————————

“I won.” 

“It wasn’t a race.” 

“It was the moment I called it.” 

Xaden slid off Sgaeyl’s back with enviable ease, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at you. “When you had already started flying away. I believe that makes you a cheater not a winner.” 

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Don’t be a sore loser.” 

He cocked an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing at his lips as he stepped towards you. “I can think of much better uses for that tongue, you know.” 

“Xaden!” You playfully gasped, slapping at his chest. “Not in front of the dragons! We’ll traumatize them.” You couldn’t help but smile though as he took hold of your hands, entwining your fingers. “Sgaeyl is finally starting to like me.” 

He shook his head, backing you up until your spine brushed cool stone. “She tolerates you.” 

“Because according to her, you make the tall one less surly.” Ailith supplied down your bond. 

 You would’ve grinned at Sgaeyl if you weren’t afraid of her literally biting your head off. “Tolerate is better than despise.” You insisted, tugging him close until his body was pressed against yours. “Ailith likes you.” 

Xaden’s smirk turned into a grin as he bumped his nose against yours. “Oh?” He said in a disbelieving tone. 

“Only because he makes you happy, fierce one. If he stops doing so I’ll gladly set him aflame.” Ailith told you, warmth edged with threat. 

Affection rolled down your bond, and your smile turned soft. “She says you make me happy.” 

Something tender flickered across his face - like you’d handed him your heart, and he knew how carefully he needed to hold it. “Do I?” He asked. His tone was playful, but you knew the question was real.  

You loved how easy it was for you to tell him the truth. “You always have, Xaden.” 

You could feel it coming off of his skin. The joy, the awe, the pride, even the four letter word you still had trouble believing. His eyes were shining as he looked at you. “All right,” he conceded. “You win. What do you want as your prize?” He asked, one of his hands letting go of you to tug at the collar of your shirt. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to that sensitive spot behind your ear that had you squirming. “Mhmm, you.” You responded, your voice already a little breathless. 

Xaden’s mouth kept moving - along your jaw, down your neck - while his fingers slid under the collar of your shirt, tugging it down enough to expose the scar on your chest. He pressed a kiss to it, and sparks shot through your bloodstream. “I’m already yours.” He murmured.

There was no deception in his voice, simply facts, and your whole body melted at the words because they were still hard to believe. You didn’t think you’d done anything in your life to deserve how Xaden Riorson felt about you, but you were going to hold it close to your chest all the same. 

Xaden moved, and it pulled you out of your thoughts as he got down on his knees in front of you, trailing kisses down your chest, then lower. “Xaden, what are you-?”

“How about for your prize . . .” His hand unbuttoned your leathers, and he shoved them down to your knees. “I’ll show you some of the uses of my tongue?” He looked up at you with a downright sinful smirk, and within the next heartbeat he had you in the air, legs lifted as he fit himself between them, cool leathers brushing your thighs, and his shoulders braced beneath you.

Heat flooded your veins, curling low in your belly despite the chill of the stone at your back. Your fingers dove into his soft, dark hair, tugging him closer. “You have such good ideas.” You told him, brushing his hair back so you could see the wicked smile that was all for you. 

Xaden’s grin turned devilish. 

——————————

“And you say I’m the one who’s always distracting you.” You tossed a look over your shoulder, voice laced with amusement. 

“Hmm?” Was all he offered in return. 

You glanced over at Xaden and groaned. He was lounging shirtless against the headboard, arms tucked behind his head, muscles on full display - tempting enough that your tongue itched to trace every inch. 

Unfair. Completely and utterly unfair. 

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Xaden said, his tone pure innocence, but his smirk and the look in his eyes gave him away.

You looked pointedly at the shadow that was teasing up your thigh with a featherlight touch. “Oh, you don’t?” 

Xaden smirked. “Sometimes they have a mind of their own. They like you.” 

A pleased smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it. “Uh huh. Totally unrelated to the stupidly sexy man who’s been doing everything short of lighting himself on fire to get my attention for the last hour?” 

His eyes sparkled. “Stupidly sexy, huh?” He echoed, smug, as his shadow slid even higher, making you shiver. 

Gods you were so weak for him. It took so little for him to make you fold it was almost embarrassing. Then again, you didn’t care. “You’re not going to let me finish this, are you?” 

His smirk widened. 

You sighed, loud and theatrical, and then all but ran to his bed, diving into his arms, right where you belonged. 

Xaden laughed, threading his fingers into your hair while the other slid beneath your shirt, tracing slow circles on your spine. He then pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your face that made you smile. “That’s better.” 

“I’m going to tell everyone that Xaden Riorson is the quadrant's biggest cuddler and ruin your badass reputation.” You mumbled into his neck, returning his kiss with one against his warm skin. 

“No one will believe you.” He replied, amusement threaded in his tone as he continued to draw soothing circles on your back. 

He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t going to admit it. “You’re hindering my education.” 

He nipped at your ear. “Since when have you given a shit?” 

You pulled back, giving him your most serious thinking face, then ruined it with a grin. “You’re right.” You said, then leaned forward to capture his lips in a deep kiss. 

His smile curved against your lips, and before you could catch your breath, he flipped you beneath him, your back hitting the mattress with a soft thump as he settled over you. 

He slid his tongue between your parted lips, turning your laughter into something breathless. Gods you would never have enough of him. You would drown in this man without hesitation, even if it meant never surfacing for air again. Nothing, absolutely nothing could compare to the way Xaden kissed you, like you were the only thing in this world that brought him peace.

A sharp knock broke the moment like shattering glass, and you and Xaden groaned in unison - you already knew who it was. “Sometimes his distance wielding is really inconvenient.” You murmured against Xaden’s lips. 

He pulled back to give you a soft smile that went straight into your box of favorites. “We’ll continue this later. We’ve got time.” He replied, getting off of you, only to pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you like he had no intention of letting go. “Come on in.” He called to Garrick. 

Garrick stepped in, closing the door behind him, a smile tugging at his lips when he spotted the two of you. “Cozy,” he remarked.

“Did everything go okay?” Xaden asked, ignoring the jab. His hand kept tracing slow, absent circles on your stomach.

He nodded, “They were a couple of hours late, but they got their present.” Garrick then reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, his expression dimming. “They sent something back for us this time.” He tossed it to Xaden. 

Xaden picked it up, a frown already forming as he turned the envelope over in his hands. The paper crackled as he broke the seal.  

The change was instant. His whole body went rigid. In a single breath, the man you’d been laughing with vanished, and in his place was Xaden Riorson, the son of Fen Riorson, the leader of a secret revolution with the weight of Aretia on his shoulders. 

You had no idea what the letter said, but your stomach turned to stone. A cold pulse climbed your spine, and dread clawed its way up your throat. You pulled away from Xaden, your heart already fracturing as you searched his face. “What does it say?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Xaden didn’t answer right away. When he looked up, his eyes met yours, and it hit you like a punch. Disbelief, hopelessness, duty, regret and underneath it all, that cursed, beautiful four letter word. “It’s from Tecarus,” he said, the words thick in his throat. “About the deal that was made when I was younger.” 

Your heart plummeted. It was like the floor had been ripped out from under you. 

“Deal? What deal?” Garrick asked from somewhere behind you. His voice sounded distant, like it was underwater, as the world tilted on its axis.  

“To marry Catrionia.” 

You should have known. It was too easy. Too good. You were too happy. If you’d learned anything in this life, it was that you didn’t get to have anything happy. It was always going to be taken away from you. 

Xaden saw it, felt it, you were unraveling. “I didn’t think - I thought when my father died it was off -” He reached for your hand. 

You flinched away before his fingers could touch yours. 

“Well, then tell him it's off.” Garrick said, like it was that easy. Like it didn’t feel like the sky was caving in. 

“It’s not that simple.” You said, your voice as raw as your breaking heart. 

“Why not?” Garrick asked, though his voice was quieter now, uncertainty creeping in.

You gave Xaden a small, broken smile, blinking hard against the tears. “Because if Xaden marries her, we get the luminary.” You swallowed, voice barely holding. “We can make enough weapons to protect our home.” 

Silence wrapped around the room like a noose. You could feel the war raging in Xaden, torn between his duty and his feelings for you. He cared about you, he cared about you so much. That was never the problem. 

But this was your home, and sometimes that beautiful, yet unforgiving word wasn’t enough. Not when people were dying. 

Xaden said your name, soft, like a prayer, and his voice was thick with so much emotion you couldn’t sort it all. But you knew what was coming. You knew.  

You were already shaking your head as you rose from his bed. “You should do it.” Liar. Don’t do it. “It’s what’s best for Aretia.” 

He surged to his feet. “I don’t give a fuck about Aretia if it means losing-” He reached for you again. 

You took another step back. Another inch of distance you didn’t want but needed. If he touched you, you’d fall apart. “You’re not losing me, and home comes first.” You tried to smile. It trembled and fell apart halfway.

This time when you stepped back, Xaden didn’t follow.

You stepped past Garrick, who stood frozen, eyes flicking between the two of you, helpless and hollow. “We can figure out another way-” He started, but even he didn’t sound convinced.  

“You know Tecarus won’t go for that.” Your voice cracked. You turned back to Xaden as the first tears spilled down your cheeks. “Protect our home. That’s what’s most important.” You felt yourself fracturing, splintering into shards you couldn’t hold together. Not here. Not in this room where ten minutes earlier he’d been holding you in his arms like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. “I’m going to go to Imogen’s, okay?” Your voice was faltering. “You two can . . . start working on the terms.” 

Xaden said your name again, his voice cracking on it - as broken, as lost as you were. 

You ran. 

You ran as if your body might shatter if you didn’t reach Imogen in time. As if distance could save you from the ache blooming in your chest. When you made it to her room, and she opened the door, you threw yourself in her arms, unable to hold yourself up any longer. 

“Woah - hey, what happened? Are you okay?” 

You opened your mouth, but no words came. Not a single sound. You just shook your head as the tears poured, hot and relentless, down your face. 

And then, through the bond - gentle and warm, like a balm on a wound - came Ailith’s voice. “You will be alright, my fierce one. You are not alone.” 

She was right. You weren’t alone. 

But your heart was gone, still in his hands. Hands that now had to belong to someone else. 

——————————

“I’m starting to think this is personal.” You said, spitting blood out of your mouth - and maybe a tooth? 

He scowled, pulled back, and swung. “You don’t deserve to be here, traitor.” He spat, yanking your head back so hard you were afraid for a second he snapped it. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You rasped, sucking in a breath, and immediately regretting it. Yep. Ribs, definitely bruised. This guy really had some anger issues to work out. 

It was obvious now, this wasn’t about interrogation. This was their free pass to beat the shit out of you, and they were making the most of it. They hadn’t asked a single question, nothing about secrets, intel, or loyalty. Instead they had spent their time bruising up every inch of your body. It was so bad that even your squad had taken to protesting. 

They ignored them. 

Not that it mattered. No punch could compare to the pain of watching Xaden and Garrick leave every weekend, heading off to visit his fiancée. Like you’d never existed. Bile rose in your throat, but you weren’t sure if that was because of your injuries or the thought of Xaden and her. 

“Hold strong, fierce one. This is almost over.” Ailith’s voice spoke to you. She tried to keep her voice calm for you, but it was impossible to hide the underlying rage. She’d been keeping you sane during this. Well, her and your general numbness. 

Your friend leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me,” he whispered. “How does it feel to know you’ve been abandoned? First your family. Now your boyfriend.” 

That stung. That stung more than you cared to admit. It was obvious to the entire quadrant that you and Xaden were no longer a thing. He wasn’t at your side always anymore. There were no more possessive touches. It had been months, and you couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled at you. The man you’d once always been able to depend on was now turning into a stranger. All you had left was Imogen, who probably wanted nothing to do with your depressive ass, and Garrick, caught in the middle, too loyal to both sides to choose one. Bodhi still checked in now and then, but it always felt . . . obligated. Like maybe Xaden had told him to. 

Because try as you might, you could still feel the protectiveness rolling off him every time you crossed paths. 

Not that it was doing much good now. Gods he’d be pissed if you made it out of this. 

“Personally, I think it’s what you deserve.” The man continued, his smug smile making you want to knock his fucking teeth out. 

“That is enough.” 

Ailith’s voice rang down the bond like thunder. 

So much for restraint. 

His fist froze mid air, held back to throw another punch and his eyes widened as he looked at you. 

A smirk tugged at your busted lips. “You forgot the one who’s still with me. And she’s as sick of your shit as I am.” 

Ailith’s voice spoke in your mind. “Tell that pitiful excuse for a rider that if he touches you again, I will tear the wings from his dragon’s back, and grind its bones into dust, Empyrean be damned.” 

“Pretty sure I don’t have to. He looks about two seconds away from pissing himself. What did you do?” 

“The blood of his dragon tastes foul,” Ailith purred, “But the satisfaction? Divine.” 

“Interrogation’s over. Get out.” He shot you a glare sharp enough to flay skin, then stormed out - door swinging open behind him like a white flag. 

Your head dropped forward, and the last of your strength drained away, leaving you weightless and aching. You felt a couple of your squadmates working at your bonds, but it was too much effort to try and keep your eyes open. “I’ve called for help.” Ailith murmured, her voice softer now, gentled by pride. “You did well, fierce one.” 

“That was fucked up.” Alastair muttered from your right. 

“They didn’t even ask anything,” Elara said, her voice tight with anger. You assumed they were the ones lifting you up. 

“I’ve got her.” 

“Tavis? How the hell did you get here-”

You let out a gasp of pain as Garrick picked you up into his arms. “Sorry, half-pint.” Garrick murmured, adjusting his grip as you winced. “I’m trying to be gentle.” 

You weren’t sure what caused it. It could have been the use of your nickname, the exhaustion, the pain . . . All you knew was that suddenly you couldn’t breathe. “It hurts, Garrick - all of it hurts.” Your voice cracked as hot tears slipped down your cheek. You buried your face in his neck, clinging to him with the only arm that still worked. It was all too much. 

“I know.” He said quietly, his voice strained with pain. “Let’s get you to the healers.” 

The next few hours were a blur. Even the healers seemed shocked at your appearance and got to work. Garrick didn’t leave your side, but others joined him, Imogen first, then Bodhi, all looking furious. 

However, none of them came close to the storm that tore through later that night.

Dinner had just been served. Nolon was, unsurprisingly, still missing when the doors slammed open and shadows erupted. Xaden stormed in with absolute fury in his eyes, and once he spotted you, it deepened. People scrambled back from him, making his path to you easy. “Who?” His voice was low, deadly calm, jaw clenched, shoulders coiled like a snake waiting to strike.

Of all people, he was the last you could handle seeing right now, too much pain, too much unfinished. “It doesn’t matter.” You whispered, turning away from him. 

“Yes it does.” His fingers touched your chin, and you flinched away. 

You felt the hurt rolling off of him. “Ailith took care of it.” 

“It’s my job to take care of-”

“No it’s not.” You told him, reaching down to yank the collar of your shirt down so his mark, the scar you bore for him, was on display. “My job is to protect you, and I did that by staying strong in there so I can be alive to do it another day.” 

You heard someone gasp, but since none of them knew about the scar until right now, you couldn’t be sure who it was. 

Xaden’s eyes flared as his gaze darted to that exposed skin. The reminder of what you shared. Then he looked back up to meet your gaze. “I gave you space, because I figured that’s what you wanted.” He stepped closer, his voice hardening. “That’s over. I’m not letting anything like this happen to you again.” 

It was what you wanted. How could he not understand that? Couldn’t he understand how badly it hurt? “Xaden, I don’t want-”

“I don’t care.” He snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut.

Your mouth dropped in disbelief. 

“I’m keeping you safe, whether it’s with me or one of the others.” Xaden said, his voice leaving no room for argument. Before you could even begin to protest though, he had started walking away. 

“You’re being an asshole.” You muttered. 

“I’ll be whatever I need to be as long as it keeps you alive.” Xaden replied over his shoulder. 

What you needed him to be was the one thing he couldn’t. 

Almost as if he’d heard the thought, Xaden turned back. The look on his face, raw, exposed, stole your breath. 

Then he was gone. 

You wanted to run after him. But what good was chasing a future already promised to someone else? 

——————————

“How long do we have to wait?” You asked, kicking a rock forward 

Garrick kicked it back to you. “I say we give it another hour then take off.” 

“Thirty minutes.” Xaden said, tense and unreadable as he stared at the sky like it had personally offended him.  

“Won’t see any argument here.” You mumbled, returning the rock to Garrick who grinned at you. 

You hadn’t wanted to come. But everyone Xaden trusted to stay with you was tied up with flight maneuvers or training. So here you were - outside the wards, wasting time with Garrick and Xaden, waiting on fliers who clearly weren’t showing. You glared daggers at Xaden’s back.

“Looking at me like that won’t get them here any faster.” Xaden said, still not turning around.

“I hate when he does that.” You said, ignoring him and looking at Garrick instead. 

He wiggled his eyebrow at you. “It’s creepy, isn’t it?” 

Ailith’s voice cut through the conversation. “The fliers have arrived.” 

You stood up, tension in your bones as you heard the wingbeats of the gryphons started to fill the air. You had been on one of these meetups, but they still made you anxious. 

You weren’t the only one on edge. Garrick and Xaden both stood stiff as boards.

But as all the fliers landed, a new emotion started showing itself. 

The tension snapped into something sharper - anger. 

You glanced over at Garrick, confused, but his jaw was tight, and his eyes locked, as if avoiding looking at you at all. 

Then you looked at Xaden. Same fury, same focus, locked on one particular flier.

A beautiful one. 

But you didn’t let your gaze linger on her, instead turning back to Xaden. It was easy enough to read all the emotions past the anger. Duty. Shame. And beneath it all, disgust. 

Why would he . . . 

“Xaden.” She said, with a blinding smile. She went straight to Xaden, her black hair shining in the light as she pressed a kiss to his cheek like they weren’t surrounded by silence thick with tension. 

A kiss he clearly didn’t want. 

And everything fell into place. You now knew exactly who she was. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Catrionia?” Xaden asked, pushing her back without hesitation. 

“She insisted.” A voice answered, stepping forward. “Since you haven’t visited except for these drops the past month.” The resemblance to Catrionia was unmistakable. Same eyes, same cold smile. Definitely family. She glanced down the line of you, pausing on your face. “I don’t know this one.” She said, raising an eyebrow. 

“And you don’t need to.” Xaden snapped. 

But you spoke your name over him anyway. 

His jaw tightened.

Catrionia’s eyes snapped to you, sharp and calculating. Menace curled off her like smoke. 

You raised an eyebrow. Oh. Oh. You felt her. Slithering along the edges of your thoughts, pressing like icy fingers against the door of your mind. 

“Say the word and I will flay her alive.” Ailith growled, her fury shaking the forest itself. 

You expected to feel rage. Hatred. Jealousy. But instead, all you felt was clarity. 

Because you could feel how Xaden felt about her - and there was nothing. No love. No longing. Just a sense of duty, brittle and tired. 

And from her? She saw him not as a partner, but a conquest. 

You couldn’t have him, but at least you knew he loved you. 

That would be enough. It would have to be. 

“Xaden’s mentioned you.” Catriona said, her smirk slicing through your thoughts.. “Not very often, though.” 

Well yeah, you wouldn’t talk about your ex to your fiancée either. Then you felt her again, playing at the corner of your mind. “Fliers do mind work, right?” You asked, glancing at Garrick. “What can she do?” 

Catrionia’s eyes flashed. “That’s none of your-”

“She can intensify emotions, but only ones you already have.” Xaden cut in, his eyes locked on you like he expected an explosion. 

But you wouldn’t. Because the emotions you were feeling right now were regret, and pity. “You want me jealous, angry, but you can’t get there.” You offered her a pitying smile. It made her seethe.  

“I’m not doing-”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, you are. I can feel you scraping at my shields.” 

She narrowed her eyes. 

You continued anyway. “I may not be able to manipulate emotions, but I can sense them. That means when I look at Xaden, I can feel everything he feels about you. And when I look at you, I can feel everything you feel about him.” 

You could feel the shock radiating from Xaden and Garrick, but you ignored that for now. 

“So no, I’m not jealous. I already know where I stand with him, and it’s a hell of a lot closer than you’ll ever be.” 

Catrionia might get his ring, might get his last name, but you had his love. 

And that was worth everything.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on Ailith before she decides to make you her dinner.” You said, and turned your back, walking away from the party. 

“That was almost as entertaining to watch as you taking down those cadets at threshing.” Ailith rumbled, full of pride. “Even Sgaeyl is amused.” 

Well, that might be your biggest accomplishment to date. 

“You have a second signet?” 

You hadn’t even heard him come up behind you, but you weren’t surprised that he did. You turned around to face Xaden, wrapping your arms around yourself. The bold girl you’d been moments earlier crumbled inside of you, buried under the weight of everything you couldn’t say. You nodded. 

He looked hurt, “and you didn’t tell me?” 

You didn’t respond. 

Xaden took a step forward, and gods you wanted to back away, but he was like an addiction, a craving you could never detox from. “When did you manifest?” He asked, those onyx eyes drilling into your soul. 

Of course, the one question that hurt the most. You stared past him, into the trees, willing the memory not to swallow you whole. “The first night we . . .” You swallowed, pain tightening your throat. “At first I thought it was me, just how much I felt, but then I realized . . . it wasn’t. It was hard to differentiate between my emotions and other people’s at first. Not so much now.” 

“This whole time . . . “ Xaden stepped closer, his voice caught between fury and disbelief. The two of you were in touching distance now. “When you told me to marry Cat - you knew that I love -”

“Don’t say it,” you whispered, stepping back as heat flooded your eyes, tears you didn’t want to shed. “Please don’t say it, Xaden.” 

“But you know it!” He insisted, and you inhaled sharply as he grabbed your elbows, tugging you back to him. “If you know it, why can’t I say it?!” 

“Because then I can’t pretend!” You choked out. “I can’t lie to myself if I know you know!” You swallowed, willing yourself to get back under control before speaking again. “When you stand on that altar in however many years,” you rasped, “and I’m sitting in the crowd, watching, because you had to choose her . . .” Your fists struck his chest, once. “You’ll still be everything to me. Always.” Another blow, softer this time. “And I’ll pretend. I’ll pretend you don’t know. That you pushed it down. That you’re doing your duty like I told you to, because that’s the only way I’ll survive it.” 

Xaden’s hands cupped your cheeks. “Don’t I get a say? You won’t even let me try to choose you.” 

You shook your head, the weight of your love for him pressing hard against your ribs, “because I know you would, and I’m never going to make you choose between Aretia and me.” 

Xaden leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. 

Every instinct screamed at you to melt into him, to let him hold you together like he always did, to forget Aretia, the war, the cost - but you didn’t. You couldn’t. 

Aretia had to come first. 

He sighed, his thumbs brushing away tears you didn’t know you were shedding. “I can read intentions.” He hesitated, as if saying the words alone might cost him. “It’s my second signet.” 

He could read intentions? Of a person? Gods. If he could do that . . . it was practically an inntinnsic. It would get him killed. 

“You’re the only one that knows.” He added. 

Your heart stuttered. He hadn’t told anyone? Not even Garrick? You clutched his shirt tighter, like maybe that could hold the truth between you. “I won’t say a word. Xaden, I swear no one will know-”

“I know.” Xaden interrupted. “I trust you. I’m telling you because that’s why I’m not on my godsdamn knees right now fighting for you . . . because I already know you’ve decided you’re not worth choosing. Not over Aretia. Not even for me.” 

He was right. There was nothing he could say that would make you change your mind. Your home was worth so much more than you. 

Xaden pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and you closed your eyes and let the emotion behind it soak into your bones. “I wish it could be different.” You whispered. 

He exhaled, long and quiet. “I wish you’d let it.” 

——————————

The air felt wrong. 

Not in any obvious way, but in the prickling, bone-deep way that told you something was about to go sideways. 

The scary part though was that there was no reason for it to be. There was no rogue activity, no wards that had been breached as far as you knew. It was just another weapons drop, routine as it came. So why did your spine feel like it was trying to crawl out of your skin? 

Why did you feel so anxious? 

You glanced over at Xaden and Garrick who were having their own conversation a few feet away. They didn’t seem to notice anything odd. Was it you? Were you being paranoid? 

“It is not just you, fierce one.” Ailith’s voice reassured down the bond. 

Your stomach dropped. If Ailith felt it too, then it wasn’t nerves. It was something real, and real meant dangerous. 

“You’ll let me know if you see anything weird?” You asked her. 

She scoffed. “You know you don’t need to ask.”

You turned your attention back to Xaden and Garrick, tapping your fingers against your thighs until you couldn’t control it anymore. “How much longer?” 

They both turned to you, Garrick rolling his eyes. “We’ve been here for ten minutes, half-pint. They’re not supposed to get here for another fifteen.” 

But Xaden, Xaden knows your body better than anyone, and his eyes shift to your hands, still tapping against your thighs. He looks up and meets your gaze, jaw tensing. “What's wrong?” 

Before you can even respond, Ailith’s voice enters your mind again, sharp and urgent. “The fliers have arrived.” 

You brush off his concerned look. The fliers are here. You can finish this drop and get the hell out of here. You forced your voice steady. “Nothing, let’s hurry up.” 

Then the fliers stepped through the trees, and every alarm in your body went off. 

You’ve been to enough of these drops to recognize the small groups of fliers you always end up trading with. The groups might change, but there’s always at least one familiar face. 

Here there are none. 

Then the emotions. You cracked the door open to Ailith’s power and they came rushing in. Hunger. Greed. Thrill. As you looked at each of them in turn though, one emotion stood out among all the others. 

Malice. 

You glanced at Xaden, but he wasn’t looking at you. You knew his body too though, and you watched as his hands clenched into fists, showing the underlying tension. You had no doubts he was reading their intentions, and with the way he shifted, a step to the left, between you and them, you knew. He didn’t like what he saw. “Who are you? Where’s Syrena?” 

You stood up, letting the weeds by the trees creep forward towards the unwelcome company, while you watched Xaden’s shadows do the same. 

“She got a little . . . tied up,” said the man in the middle, his grin all teeth and venom. “Sent some of us on without her.” 

Xaden’s arms crossed over his chest, and his voice was like a blade. “She knows we only deal with her.” 

“Yeah, well . . . we’re not here to make deals.” He said, taking a step forward, slow and smug. “We’re here to take. Whether it be weapons . . .” His eyes drifted to all three of you, pausing once he met yours. “Or lives.” 

For a second, you felt it, Xaden’s rage boiling in your chest like it was your own, then - 

“Now!” Xaden barked, and the world exploded into motion. 

Shadows surged, vines lashed, and Garrick’s gusts howled like war drums. 

It was a blur after that. You and Xaden tripped them with creeping weeds and writhing shadows while Garrick hurled them backward with blasts of wind. You thought it was going to be quick. The three of you moved like you were one weapon, and the six of them didn’t stand a chance. 

Then a flash of brown - 

A rune arched through the air and struck near your feet. 

Pain detonated inside your skull, sharp and blinding. A high-pitched ring screamed through your head. 

You crumpled, hands flying to your temples, your knees slamming into the dirt. The world twisted and wobbled. The sound blocked out everything else. All you could think about was ending that pain, now. You forced your eyes open only to find yourself blanketed in a wall of dense, coiled, and trembling shadows. 

Xaden. 

Even now, with all six of those fliers out there, he was protecting you. 

You could barely think, but your heart cracked open all over again. You had to make it stop. You couldn’t do anything until this debilitating ache was gone, and you had to protect Xaden. He was going to burn himself out if he had to keep this shield over you and fight. 

You clawed your way through the fog in your mind, searching for the sparkling bond between you and Ailith, and you yanked. 

The roots obeyed your call, inching closer and closer through the Earth until they found the rune and wrapped around it. The power that held it together was strong . . . 

But so were you. 

You dug deep, teeth clenched, fingers curled into the soil. You picked at the seams, found its weakest joints, and - 

Snap. 

The silence after the ringing was louder than the pain. You dropped, boneless, heart thudding in your ears.

“FIERCE ONE!” Ailith’s voice pounded into your skull.

“I’m okay,” you rasped, or maybe you thought you said it. You allowed yourself one breath, then two. “Are you coming?” 

“The trees are too thick, but we’re getting as close as possible. Sgaeyl has suggested burning the forest down-”

“No,” your voice cut in fast, firm. “We don’t need the attention. We’ve got this.” You staggered to your feet, bracing against a nearby tree as the world tilted, then steadied. 

“Say the word,” Ailith hissed, “and the whole place burns.” 

You didn’t doubt her, or Sgaeyl. Even Chradh would probably love to assist. So if you didn’t want this whole operation to be found out, you had to get out there. Now. Taking one more deep breath, you took a step through the shadows, feeling them caress your skin as you did. 

Garrick was holding off two of the fighters. Xaden had three. That wasn’t going to work. 

You cracked the door wider to Ailith’s power, the ground answering with a guttural tremor. Roots erupted from the ground, fast, violent and hungry. Two fliers, one near Garrick, and one flanking Xaden, were snared mid-swing. You clenched your fists, and the vines did the rest.  

Their necks made the same sound the rune did. 

Xaden glanced at you, a flicker, but the relief in his eyes gutted you. Then the shadows behind you collapsed inward, pooling like ink before surging forward. They wrapped around his last attacker’s throat like a noose. 

Xaden didn’t hesitate. One step forward. A blade driven clean through the chest. 

Garrick dispatched his with brutal efficiency and moved to your side. 

You closed the door on Ailith’s power, your skin hot with overuse, and fought every urge you had not to fall to the ground. 

“Took you long enough,” Garrick muttered, breathing hard, but there was a grin tugging at his mouth. 

“Fuck you,” you said, still breathless, but you gave him a weak smile. 

Garrick smirked, placing a hand on your shoulder as his eyes swept over you. “You okay?” 

You nodded. “Will be. As soon as we find out how those assholes knew we would be here.” 

Then everything fractured.

A twig snapped. 

Xaden’s head jerked toward the sound - toward you. 

Shadows burst from him in an instant. One set yanked Garrick back. Another lashed past you, but - 

-Xaden didn’t wait. 

He tackled you, a hard blur of motion and panic. 

Two roars echoed through the forest, loud and unmistakable ones of your dragons. 

The two of you hit the ground hard and rolled. Your ribs ached. Dirt filled your mouth. You clutched him close, not knowing what had happened, just that you still had him, until the world stopped spinning and he was under you. 

“Xaden?” 

He didn’t respond.

You scrambled off of him. “Xaden, you fucking idiot! Why would you-”

He wasn’t moving. 

“No. No. No. No-” The words cracked out of you like glass breaking.

You touched his face, fingers trembling as they pushed back sweat-damp hair, the other resting on his hip, right under his armor. You couldn’t find a wound, any blood, but hidden in his hair, you found a bump. You dropped your hand to his neck, searching - 

There. It was there. Fainter than you wanted, but it was there. 

He was alive. Unconscious, but alive. You were going to kill him when he woke up. He was going to get the biggest fucking lecture . . . 

But then awareness creeped into your bones that something still wasn’t right. 

Your hand was wet. 

You pulled it from his hip, the red staining your skin, and glanced frantically at Garrick who had bypassed the two remaining fliers Xaden had killed to pick up a dagger, its silver blade covered in red. “Garrick . . .” You said his name like a prayer, a whisper, even though it felt like you were screaming. “Garrick!” 

He was at your side in a second, eyes locking on the wound your hand was pressing over. “Shit, shit, shit -” 

You shoved the panic down, swallowed it whole. There wasn’t time. Xaden was alive. He was still alive, and you had to get him out of here to a mender fast. You were responsible for him and you’d be damned if you let Malek take him like this. “Garrick, you have to get him out of here. Now.” 

Garrick shook his head. “Xaden will fucking kill me if I leave you here-”

“And I’ll kill you if you don’t take him right now. Do you understand me? For the love of Amari, get him out of here and to a mender now.” Your voice was sharp as steel. “Don’t argue. Go.” 

He stared at you a second longer, but then nodded. 

Together, you lifted Xaden and helped get him onto Chradh so Garrick could get him to a mender faster. Garrick mounted behind him. 

You watched as they flew off. Sgaeyl followed close behind. 

You watched your heart vanish into the sky. 

Only then, when he was gone, when the adrenaline burned off, and your body remembered the pain did you collapse. 

Ailith, settled beside you, folding her wing over your body to shield you from the world, as if even the forest didn’t deserve to witness your unraveling. 

“I told him not to choose me.” You whispered, voice cracking. “I told him, and then he -”

“Maybe, fierce one,” Ailith said softly, her breath a warm balm against your numb skin. “Choosing you is not a choice he gets to make. Maybe his heart has already made it for him.” 

She leaned closer, her voice a gentle hush. “Just as your heart has chosen him.” 

——————————

As you stumbled into the healer’s quadrant, dozens of hours later, limbs aching and mind frayed, you couldn’t help but be thankful it was the weekend. That meant no classes. No Battle Brief. You couldn’t have sat still through one even if you tried. Not without knowing how he was. 

Your eyes scanned the room frantically, not unlike they had right after you had crossed the parapet so long ago. It took you seconds to spot Garrick, standing sentinel at the end of Xaden’s bed. 

You didn't even think. You bolted, shoving through any people that were in your way. “Is he okay?” You choked out, your heart hammering so hard in your chest it felt like it might shatter your ribs. 

Garrick pulled you into a tight, grounding hug. “He’s okay.” He whispered into your hair.

Relief swept through your body in a wave, and the weight of it would’ve sent you to your knees if Garrick hadn’t been holding you. 

He was okay. He was okay. 

You didn’t realize you were crying until Garrick pulled back and gave you the space to wipe your face. His expression softened as he glanced back at the bed. “They gave him something to knock him out. He would’ve been awake by now otherwise.” 

You exhaled shakily. “Probably a good idea.” You said with a weak smile. “He’d be storming out of here against healer orders if he could.” 

“Bastard nearly took my head off trying to argue with the mender.” Garrick looked back at you then, a small frown forming on his face. “Did you run into any trouble on the way back?” 

You shook your head. No patrols, no enemy sightings - just the chaos in your own head, which felt more dangerous than anything else out there.

“Come on. You’ve been flying for hours. Sit.” He led you to the chair beside Xaden’s bed, and you couldn’t even find the energy to protest. 

Then you made yourself look at him. 

He looked peaceful. It reminded you of the nights that you’d fallen asleep together, and the rare moments when you’d woken up before him. Gods how you missed it. The weight of the world gone from his face as he dreamed, his arms holding you close like his favorite pillow. You’d almost never seen him like that again. 

You couldn’t help it. You’d almost lost him. With trembling fingers, you reached for his hand, covering it with your own and giving it a squeeze. 

Garrick’s voice broke the silence. “We need to have a talk.” 

Well, you had wondered how long it would take him. 

You didn’t look up, instead you kept tracing the lines of Xaden’s knuckles with your thumb. 

You heard him let out a sigh, and then he slouched down in the seat on the other side of Xaden, stretching out his legs. “You two, especially you, are being stupid and stubborn.” He said, his voice tired. 

“You know that’s a trait we share.” You said, shrugging. 

“And normally that only gives me a mild headache. Lately it makes me want to bash your heads together.” 

You looked at him then, and felt a stab of shame. Garrick had been caught in the middle of you and Xaden’s mess from the beginning, and now this. You knew that it had to suck. “I’m sorry.” You said quietly. 

“He didn’t hesitate when that knife started flying toward you.” Garrick’s voice was level, but there was a tightness under it. 

“I know.” 

“He’d do it every time. You know that right?” 

You swallowed. You wish you didn’t know that. 

“So this whole, choosing Aretia over you thing? It’s a lie you’re telling yourself. He’s never going to do it.” 

“Taking a knife for me isn’t the same as choosing a whole province -”

“It is when he could have died.” 

The sharp edge in Garrick’s voice cut you off. That tone, the one he usually saved for idiot cadets who couldn’t follow orders, startled you into silence. 

“That dagger was meant for you.” He said, quieter now, but more dangerous. “And he still took it. That’s choosing you over everything.”  

You looked away, throat burning. He was right. You knew he was right. Xaden would have taken that dagger for you over and over again without hesitation, like you would for him. “I can’t - I don’t know how to make him stop.” 

“For the love of Amari, you can’t!” 

You jumped. Garrick never yelled at you.

He scrubbed both hands over his face, dragging in a breath like he needed to stay calm. This time when he spoke his voice was more even. “He’s in love with you. He has been for ages. I know you know that, and I know he knows that.” He leaned forward, his gaze steady and unrelenting. “I want you to ask yourself one thing: can you make yourself stop loving him?” 

The question hit you like a slap. It wasn’t something you’d ever considered. You didn’t have to. There wasn’t a version of this life, or any other, where you didn’t love him. You were always going to. 

Your voice cracked as the truth clawed its way out of you. “Why . . . Why would I even try?” 

“So you wouldn’t have to be miserable for the rest of your life, because half-pint-” his eyes softened. “That’s what you’re resigning yourself to if you can’t make yourself stop loving him.” 

You glanced down at Xaden again, tracing the lines of his face with your eyes. Gods he was so beautiful, too beautiful to be hurt because of you. Your heart stuttered at the thought of even trying not to love him. 

“I - I can’t.” The words burst from you, raw and unguarded. “Garrick, it'd be like losing a lung. I wouldn’t be able to breathe-”

He gave a grim nod. “Maybe you’re okay living like that. But are you okay with making him live like that?” 

The words sank like a dagger straight into your ribs. 

“You’re responsible for him right?” Garrick said, pointing to where the scar on your chest was hidden. “Then stop being selfish,” His voice didn’t rise, but it cut. “Stop pretending this is about duty. Start thinking about his happiness. Because I’ll tell you something right now, Xaden is fucking miserable without you.” 

The air vanished from your lungs. You never wanted that. You never meant to make him miserable. You thought . . . you were helping. Instead of being torn between you and Aretia, you took yourself out of the equation. You convinced yourself that he would move on. That he’d settle, find some measure of peace with Cat. 

But it had been months, and you knew he still felt the same way about you. It hadn’t dimmed at all. 

He still loved you. He hadn’t moved on. 

And neither had you. 

“And I know you’re miserable without him. Godsdamn you two are my best friends and deserve happiness more than anyone I know. Fucking take it.” 

“Gods will you two stop arguing already?” 

The voice was rough, gravelly with exhaustion, but you’d know it anywhere. 

Xaden’s eyes were open, and he was looking at you with a softness you didn’t deserve. 

Relief tumbled through you like a wave. Gods for a moment you thought you’d never see those eyes again. It took everything in you not to crawl into that bed and bury yourself in him, but you hadn’t earned that. 

“I wouldn’t call it an argument.” You said, forcing lightness into your tone. You glanced at Garrick, gave him a faint smile, then squeezed Xaden’s hand. “More like a lecture. Fitting since you’re about to get a hell of one.” 

Xaden groaned. “Figures.” 

“Well, honey bear, I’m going to leave you to that.” He said, reaching out to squeeze Xaden’s shoulder. “Have to tell everyone why they haven’t seen your pretty face today.” 

“Or you could not.” Xaden replied. 

“And miss the chance of lining up more lectures for you? No way.” He replied, but then the teasing look on his eyes faded somewhat and his tone turned more serious. “I’m glad you’re okay, man.” 

Xaden gave him a nod, the kind that said more than words ever could. “Me too, brother.” 

Garrick ruffled your hair as he passed, earning an eye roll that you didn’t really mean. His hand lingered for a moment longer on your shoulder, and then he leaned in close and muttered just for you, “Fix it.” 

Then you and Xaden were alone. 

There was silence for a minute while you stared after Garrick, but then your breath caught as Xaden threaded his fingers through yours. Your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d held your hand like that. You had forgotten how perfectly his fingers slotted between yours, like they’d been made to fit. How could you have ever thought you could give this up forever? 

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the rest, but Xaden squeezed your hand, grounding you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice soft in the morning light. 

You laughed. A choked, incredulous sound. You turned back to him, a look of disbelief all over your face. “Did you seriously ask me that after you took a damn dagger for me?” 

He shrugged. The bastard shrugged. “He was aiming for you. I stopped it from happening. I’ll be fine as soon as I get out of this damn -” Xaden then started moving, slinging his legs over, and you didn’t miss the wince when he did. 

You shot to your feet, placing your free hand on his chest. “Xaden Riorson.” You snapped. “You have been stabbed. Keep. Your. Ass. In. This. Bed.” You said, pushing on his chest with enough force to make him lay back down. 

Xaden sighed, and closed his eyes like a man surrendering to the inevitable. “All right. Go ahead and let me have it. Tell me how pissed you are.” 

“Pissed?” you echoed, your voice rising. “Pissed?! Xaden I was terrified!” 

The words burst out, and once they did, the dam broke. 

His eyes opened again, watching, listening, and you couldn’t stop. 

“You have no idea how that felt. You could have died! Gods, I couldn’t breathe when Garrick flew off with you! What if he didn’t get you there fast enough? What if you died? What if I lost you, and it was my fault -”

Xaden shook his head. “It wouldn’t have been-”

“Don’t bullshit me.” You snapped, your voice breaking. “You almost died for me. Despite everything I’ve done to you. Despite the fact that I told you to put Aretia first over and over again-”

“And I’d do it again.” Xaden interrupted, firm. “And again, and again, if it keeps you breathing.” Xaden sat up, using his grip on your hand to tug you closer. “I’m not living in a world without you.” 

Gods the way he said that. Like it wasn’t a decision - just the truth. How had you ever doubted him? How had you convinced yourself he’d choose anything, but you, when you’d give up everything for him? 

You sat down on the bed, bringing his hand to your chest so his knuckles brushed against where your scar for him was. “And you think I’m okay living without you?” 

Xaden’s eyes dropped to where his knuckles brushed the fabric hiding the mark that tied you to him. Then he met your eyes again, and the flash of grief you saw there nearly shattered you. “Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do?” 

You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. You had been trying to push him out of your life without even realizing it. You thought it was for a noble reason, making him keep his focus on Aretia instead of you, but . . . a part of it was hoping that if you kept him at a distance, it would dull the ache of missing him. But it hadn’t. It never would. 

And you didn’t think you had the strength to push him away again. 

You shook your head, bringing his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to it. “Not anymore.” 

Xaden’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away your tears, gentle, reverent. “What are you saying, love?” 

“I told you once not to say that,” you whispered, your breath catching.

The smile he gave you, soft, wicked, and adoring, should’ve come with a warning. It melted every part of you, and the box in your mind, the one that stored all of your favorite smiles of his, cracked open after the longest time of being shut. “Yeah, I’m not hiding it anymore. I love you. And I’m done pretending I don’t. I’m ending the deal with Poromiel. I won’t spend another moment allied with people who threatened you, and I sure as hell won’t marry that throne-chasing manipulative viper.” He said, and you couldn’t help but let out a strangled laugh. “So the engagement is off, no matter what you’re about to-”

“-I love you too.” You blurted, cutting him off. “Gods, I love you so damn much, and I can’t take another day not being able to call you mine-” 

He didn’t let you finish. Xaden’s hand slid from your cheek into your hair and pulled you into him, his mouth crashing into yours like it had been aching for years. 

Oh gods. You had almost forgotten. You’d almost forgotten how perfect his lips were. How they obliterated every thought from your mind. 

How they felt like home. 

You clutched him closer as he deepened the kiss, desperate to keep him there as you let yourself drown in him, the mint and leather smell, the heat of his body, the delicious taste of him. And you couldn’t help but ask yourself, how could you have ever let him go? 

He slipped his tongue in your mouth, and you moaned,  which caused the horrible reaction of him pulling away. He didn’t go far though, his lips still brushing yours as he spoke. “You make that noise again, and we’re going to traumatize half the Healer’s Quadrant.” 

You leaned forward, nipping at his bottom lip and grinning at the growl that he made in response. It heated your whole body. “Mhmm, promise?” 

Xaden shook his head for a moment, and the smile he gave you would have made you collapse if he wasn’t already pretty much holding you up. “You’re such fucking trouble.” He murmured, and then distracted you with kisses down your throat. 

Gods maybe you should’ve helped him sneak out of here before you had this conversation. 

This time when he pulled away, your eyes were closed, but you opened them again when his gentle fingers found your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “Before you go sweet talk a Healer to get me out of here so I can take you back to your room and make up for months of not fucking you, I want to make something clear.” 

Gods, he was going to destroy you, and you couldn’t wait. You bit your lip, nodding for him to continue.  

“You’re not leaving me again.” he said, his voice low, but unyielding. “Not for Aretia. Not for another man -”

“As if anyone could-” 

He silenced you with a thumb to your bottom lip. 

“Not even for Malek’s godsdamned doorstep. I will follow you. Always. You are mine, love. I won’t let anything take you away from me again. Especially not you. Understand?” 

Your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest at the sincerity in his tone. There was no doubt that he meant every word he said, and honestly? Being by Xaden’s side for the rest of your life? Rebuilding your home together like you’d always wanted to? 

You couldn’t imagine anything happier. 

“Yours,” you whispered. “Until the end of time, Xaden Riorson.”

[betty-fran]

#but 'ofc he's a hedonist who doesn't want to settle down' as the default assumption just became super weird after the tos marathon#and the reluctance to see anything but this kind of healthy hedonism with some secondary goals in the flirtations/seductions#esp given that while he's an aspirational figure he's... uh. i don't think presented as. let's say. a model of psychological wellness.

(via @anghraine)

I couldn't pass it by, because lately I've been thinking about why Kirk, as a character, is perceived so differently within the fandom itself, and I wanted to put it all (some of my unpopular opinions) into a more coherent text.

AOS, like most modern media, does a pretty poor job of characters' depth, but that's precisely why, I think, it forces fans to pay more attention to the psychological analysis and search for that depth on their own. They try to figure out who Kirk is and what's behind his behavior patterns, and there are many examples of really good work on portraying a trauma survivor. It's a main reason why, for a long time, even when I started watching TOS, I thought it was some kind of exclusively AOS fandom thing (not Tarsus, of course, but all this SA/DV concept). An attempt to talk about what hurts, and what is familiar to the modern viewer, but which is difficult to talk about openly, as well as an attempt to give more sense to what is happening on the screen.

But if in the context of AOS, this is more fan reading than objective reality (again, because AOS was filmed primarily as entertaining action movies, and while I really like them overall, I realize that I want to see this complexity more than it actually exists there), TOS really has this complexity. And it really talks about these things.

TOS is generally perceived very differently by people, but in fact, I was able to explain it to myself quite unexpectedly - TOS is more theater than cinema. That's why it gives this feeling of "I've never seen anything like this in cinema before," because I haven't. But I've seen it in the theater. And like any good theater, it makes you think, speaking to you between the lines, through the acting, through the light, relying entirely on the viewer's ability to perceive what they see. It's a very allegorical thing, and any of its sequels (even the original films), spin-offs, prequels, etc., can't replicate that feeling. And here lies something, which, in my opinion, exists in the way TOS is perceived in the fandom, which has been oversaturated with information for 60 years. Almost no one perceives it as an independent thing. And under the weight of an entire franchise, something of genuine significance is lost.

TOS itself provides so much material for analysis that you don't have to try to see something that isn't there; you just have to look at what's in front of you. And that's why I'm especially in-a-bad-way-surprised when Kirk is perceived as misogynistic/cruel towards women/a frivolous womanizer/man-whore/etc, when he clearly isn't. He, and we're shown this more than once, sympathizes with women in a way that none of the other male characters do. He sympathizes with them from a very feminine side. And quite obviously, in situations with strangers, he prefers women's company to men's, not because he is a womanizer as is often claimed, but because, and this is actually very noticeable, he is more comfortable with them. I saw pages from Shatner's biography where he talks about an incident from his youth when he had a near-SA experience:

What happened that night changed my attitude toward women for the rest of my life. I understood the anger and frustration that a woman feels when she says no, and means no, and the man believes she is saying yes.

And speaking specifically about his acting, it's undoubtedly felt in TOS. That's what Kirk has. He understands that feeling of being treated like an object. And in three seasons of TOS, he's been treated exactly that way more than once. We have scenes of explicit coercion (through blackmail, manipulation, deprivation of the ability to control his own consciousness/body) into physical contact/sex that can't be read any other way. We have several episodes that, if he were a woman, would be perceived as blatant sexual assault/rape. We even have a moment (I honestly only remember "Wink of an Eye", but I have a feeling there was something else like it) where he is directly told that he is only needed for reproduction. Should we perceive it differently because he's a man?

For an entertainment show, it talks too much about traumatic experiences and life after them, constantly and coherently raising topics of the limitation of autonomy/violation of personal boundaries/physical or psychological abuse, and more often than not, does so through Kirk. It's emphasized how easily he separates himself from his own desires/feelings, and allows himself to be used, to violate his own boundaries (psychological or physical) if it gives a chance of survival (for himself/another person/the ship's crew) or to achieve another goal (which actually also concerns the chance of survival). There was an interesting moment in "The Lights Of Zetar" that I find quite revealing for understanding how deeply rooted this idea of "doing to survive" is in Kirk. When one of his subordinates is taken over by alien entities that are trying to destroy the entire ship, the only option to deal with them is to let them take her completely so they can be taken out through a pressure chamber. It's dangerous physically, but it's also psychologically abusive, and it's a difficult moral choice for her to make, which Kirk tells her with cool determination but also emotional understanding:

KIRK: They'll be here very soon. They may destroy you and us as they did Memory Alpha. You are especially susceptible to their will. But we have one chance to survive. Don't resist. Let them begin to function through you. If we can control that moment, we have a chance. Will you try?

And this understanding is not so much that of a ship's captain, but rather that of a person who is very aware of what it's like to let another take over your body if it means a chance at survival. A person who is well aware of what this "don't resist" means. This violation of personal autonomy/boundaries/physical and psychological safety is undoubtedly a dangerous part of working in Starfleet. However, there is a noticeable, and I don't think unintentionally emphasized, difference in the response to similar situations between Kirk and others. This is especially pronounced in Kirk/Pike parallels, which can be seen by analyzing Pike's behavior in a similar situation in "The Menagerie". Pike, who is shown to us as a model captain and a noble man, has a fairly healthy, distinctly masculine (and not in a bad sense of the word) reaction to the situation he finds himself in. He's naturally indignant, takes steps to get out, and keeps well this internal distance between himself and Vina/Talosians. As a captain, he's willing to sacrifice his freedom/his life for the sake of the ship's crew, but this is the personal courage he has as a person, something that still remains in the realm of beautiful heroism, noble self-sacrifice. It's not Kirk's survivalism, his ability to compromise his integrity, to let someone else get too (uncomfortably) close to him, just to have a chance, the real ugly and dirty face of survival. This is the difference that is traced in these two captains, this boundary of true understanding between "I am willing to do anything to survive" and "I can do anything to survive."

This is what generally makes Pike a better role model for healthy behavior patterns, but it's also what makes Kirk a much more meaningful character to understand. He turned out to be much more of a trauma survivor than the golden boy I expected to see him as, but it rather explains to me why he touched me so much as a character. Despite everything, he remains an idealist, a utopian, a humanist. It's not that he believes in people because he thinks they are good; he believes in them even though he knows they might not be. And this, I must say, is much more difficult and requires from you true kindness and the ability to forgive.

I watched "Measure of a Man" not long ago, and while it was indeed very good, the weird, toxic, bitter relationship between Picard and his JAG ex really made me nostalgic for one of my favorite Kirk/lady of the week relationships—Kirk and Areel Shaw in "Court Martial."

Kirk himself is the one on trial in "Court Martial," and Areel is the prosecuting attorney rather than the judge. They're exes in their early 30s who broke up in the past for unknown reasons, but are still fond of each other, respectful, and retain an amicable, pleasant relationship years after their break-up. Both of them handle the strain of Areel's professional obligations with maturity and grace, but not impossibly idealized invulnerability. Areel recommends a good defense lawyer for Kirk and regrets the role the situation places them in, but she also doesn't sabotage her case against him and is good at what she does.

The thing that really makes this a favorite "Kirkmance" for me, beyond all this, is that it's very obvious that both of them still care a lot about each other and remain deeply attracted to each other. Neither of them have anything to gain by this. They're both too intelligent and sensible to consider re-kindling their old romance; it fell apart for a reason, despite the lingering affection/attraction, and for pragmatic reasons, sex isn't on the table.

But both early and late in the episode, Kirk and Areel seem to enjoy the flirtation for what it is: not calculated or desperate, not useful, not some fridge horror dub-con scenario, not a high-romance disaster waiting to happen, not even a prelude to a one-night stand, just a fun and affectionate acknowledgment that the chemistry remains strong and they still love each other in a way. There's something genuine and tender and unforced about their flirtation and mutually agreed-upon good-bye kiss that is just so conspicuously different from the tactical Kirkmances. I think it's really lovely, actually:

[thepeaklegendoffirstgen]

Hiiii

can you plz write future lookism AU where 1st gen kings + James find out that their daughter (high schooler) has a boyfriend I think it would be hilarious

thanks ❤

I don't know whether it's hilarious, but here we are, I had fun writing this❣️ hope you enjoy :)

Characters: James Lee, Kitae Kim, Jichang Kwak, Jinrang, Jaegyeon Na, Taesoo Ma, Seongji Yuk.

JAMES LEE

He will create a nurturing yet disciplined environment where enjoyment and growth coexist. His daughter won’t be spoiled, he loves her deeply, but to him, love also means ensuring her well-being and development.

So when a no-name, good-for-nothing loser ends up dating his daughter, James is absolutely stumped, how did this clown even manage to get near her?

He’ll give a cold, deadly stare and instantly dig up the guy’s full history, geography, and psychology like it’s a mission.

If this guy genuinely makes his daughter happy, and James believes she’s made an informed, mature decision, he won’t interfere. He wants her to grow as a person, and relationships, good or bad, are part of that journey.

But let me be very clear: if something goes wrong, Mr. Boyfriend might find himself mysteriously missing a few fingers... or limbs. Who knows? 🤭

KITAE KIM

Immediate axe-out!!! Mr. Boyfie , I hope your cardio's good.....run.

Kitae isn’t entertaining any cockroaches around his daughter. He knows how men can be, he’s seen it firsthand, starting with his own scumbag of a father.

No amount of begging will work. In his mind, his daughter is still way too young to even think about dating. There’s a right time for everything, and this is not it.

Now imagine a 6’7” giant charging with an axe in one hand, chasing down Mr. Boyfie… and the daughter running after him, trying to stop the madness.

Even in the rare event, he gives his approval, because no matter what, he doesn’t want to be the reason for his daughter’s sadness—he’ll keep a very strict eye.

Tears? Bad mood? One wrong move? That axe is coming out of his pocket again🤣

JICHANG KWAK

Think of how Manager Kim reacted when Minji brought a guy home, that will be Jichang. 😂

Now, he’s not the overprotective type at all. He believes his daughter should live her best life. But her well-being? That’s everything to him.

He’ll run a background check, not just for safety, but also for fun, and might even throw in a casual threat involving a bullet, just for laughs.

If the guy turns out to be kind, genuine, and respectful, Jichang has no issue.

But if he finds even the slightest red flag, he’ll push for a breakup fast. His daughter can hate him if she wants, but he refuses to sit back and watch someone else break her heart.

JINRANG

He’s got a solid head on his shoulders. Like a wolf: calm but overprotective. He knows choices like these shape a person for life.

First question he asks the guy after he hears she’s dating:“Are you James Lee’s dog?” LMAO.....yes, that’s real😂😂 He’s testing the guy’s character, strength, independence, whether this boy has his own backbone or just blindly follows others.

His daughter’s safety and well-being are his top priorities, but he’ll never suffocate her growth.

Instead, he gently makes her do a pinky promise: “No matter what happens, or who walks into your life, always remember, you can rely on Dad. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of.” A genuinely good father, with the right balance of care and protection.

He’s not against dating. Even if things fall apart, he’ll handle it with maturity and calm, but let it be known: if the guy steps out of line, he will vanish. Murder? Not off the table.

JAEGYEON NA

He will literally run his car over the poor guy, zero shame, zero fear. The law? Irrelevant. Because in Jaegyeon's eyes, this boy already broke the first and most sacred law: pursuing his precious daughter.

Now imagine this: his daughter is on a sweet little ice cream date with her boyfriend. Jaegyeon spots them by chance.

Suddenly, it turns into a full-on Bollywood scene, his car turns in slow motion, dramatic background music blaring, jaw dropped, eyes bulging, multiple-angle cinematic shots🤣 Then... he floors the accelerator.....full speed ahead, aiming straight at Mr. Boyfie. 💀

He’s hurling every curse and profanity that comes to mind. Mr. Boyfie is so traumatized that he might just beg her to break up.

Jaegyeon isn’t against love. He just won’t let some average Joe ruin his daughter’s happiness. Teenage hormones? He knows all about them. He’s certain she’ll find the right one someday. But definitely not right now.

TAESOO MA

Another one in the category of healthy dads with strong boundaries. When he finds out his daughter’s dating, he doesn’t lose it. He sees it as a natural part of teenage life, but warns her to stay cautious and alert to red flags.

He’s raised her with strong values and a clear sense of self, so he trusts she wouldn’t just fall for any random guy.

Not throwing shade at above men, but come on, have you seen how Taesoo treats Hudson?It’s a tearjerker....that perfect mix of discipline and motivation, of grit and love.

He won’t meddle unnecessarily in her personal life, but he’ll always be there in the background, offering a gentle yet firm nudge to make sure she’s walking the right path.

SEONGJI YUK

The chillest dad out of the entire bunch. Honestly, all he wants is for his precious, adorable little girl to be happy and healthy,that’s it.

He won’t throw tantrums or launch threats. His daughter would likely come to him herself and say, “Dad… I have a boyfriend.” He’ll probably just nod and say, “Okay. Just be careful. And make sure he respects you, not just as my daughter, but as a human being.”

But deep down… a quiet sadness will settle in. Time moves too fast. The same little girl who once held his hand just to walk straight is now slowly stepping away. He’ll have quiet moments where he mulls it over. He’ll sigh, smile faintly, and accept it.

Because at the end of the day, if she’s safe, healthy, and truly happy, then he’s okay too. That’s what being a father means to him.

[theloganator101]

As stated in the last post, I recently finished playing through Chapter 3 of Deltarune where it features this character as the chapter's main antagonist named Mr. "Ant" Tenna.

This post is going to cover why Mr. Tenna makes for a more threatening and compelling antagonist for the chapter he's featured in, than Vox does or will be in Hazbin Hotel.

And I will be putting the rest of this post under Keep Reading since this WILL feature spoilers for the chapter and I highly recommend you either play the game or watch a playthough of it for yourself. Now with that out of the way, let's talk about Mr. Tenna.

For starters, let's go over just who even is Mr. Tenna. Like I said before he serves as the chapter's antagonist in how he wants Kris and their friends to keep participating in his show and keep them from getting to the fountain.

After Kris and the others decide that enough is enough, Tenna starts to go off the deep end and order his workers to be capture them. Eventually his outbursts started to push his workers away to where he has nobody else to work for him, and once you confront him for the final time, he explains why he's doing all this.

He was previously used for the families to gather around and watch Christmas Specials, and he enjoyed the focus being on him. But as the years passed less and less people started to watch tv less, with nobody to watch the shows he had anymore. That was why he was so desperate in wanting to bring excitement to the gang and remind Kris of the good times.

His powers are what you would expect from a character centered around television. His powers relate to changing the channel to different types of shows and even some electricity.

So in conclusion, in one lengthy chapter, Mr. Tenna was able to be a fully fleshed out, fully enjoyable, and compelling antagonist that all circles back around to him being a television. An old television that just wants to provide good entertainment like back in the past.

...

And now we get to Vox. He's established to be an Overlord like Alastor and runs the television programs of the city, getting people involved through hypnotism. He's even a part of a big group called the Three Vees with Valentino and Velvette.

Other than sending Sir Pentious to the Hotel to be a spy (And failing), he doesn't really do much to mess with Alastor or the hotel in general. the only other time we see him again is when he's laughing and making fun of the hotel's attempt to defend themselves from the Exorcist Angels. And with it being confirmed that the Vees are going to be the next major antagonists for Season 2, me and a few others can't help but think that this is going to go very wrong.

Since Charlie and her friends already faced the leader of the exterminations, any other threat they face from here on out is most likely going to be underwhelming as a result. There's also the possibility that whatever big plan the Vees have in Season 2, it's bound to fail considering how Heaven has put up a barrier and that there's still the Sins and Goetias to worry about.

But we all know that Vivzie will ignore them and force conflict just to make the events she wants to happen happen, regardless if it makes sense or not. Vox isn't compelling or threatening enough to be considered a worthy antagonist, there isn't enough emphasis put on him being a television star nor is he ever written good enough for it to make sense.

He's a man child who wants Alastor-Senpai to suffer for breaking his heart. And since we're gonna be exploring his backstory with Alastor and how their friendship fell apart, I've lost hope that it would be compelling in any meaningful way.

And that's why Mr. Tenna beats him by a landslide.

[skylar36]

The Ghouls on a Drag Show Mission

I’m assuming that this won’t cause gender dysphoria in any of them for the purposes of the scenario. I’m also assuming they’re doing a drag show and not just like cross dressing for the mission.

Player character is probably here as a makeup artist? Or hair stylist? Or costumer? Or go all the way and make her a drag king too.

Frostheim

—Jin is not here. He did not show up for the show. He’s off actually investigating the anomaly instead of entertaining this ridiculous show.

—Tohma will play along with the show, but only as much as necessary to keep up appearances for the mission.

—Luca is confused, but he’s got the right spirit. He really is just a white knight at heart. Maybe put him against Ren’s bad attitude? But would have to explain that he can’t draw real blades to defend someone’s honor. Here, take this foam sword. Bop him on the head gently.

—Kaito is probably gonna have a moment about his masculinity and have to get over it and his anxiety. Once he’s got that under control I think he would be a good queen and be surprised about people liking his performance. He seems like a deeply insecure man. He’s so over the top in all of his reactions to things that he would be entertaining to watch. Similar to Yuri in that way.

Vagastrom

—Alan I think he would secretly like dressing up, but wouldn’t like performing and would be really awkward about that. But he could be cast as a stern and stoic character and he could be a hit.

—Leo is already performing like 24/7 he’s ready for the drama. Enjoying Sho being uncomfortable.

—Sho is here for the ride but not particularly enjoying being on stage. He’s not sure how Leo got him into this mess this time, but it’s definitely Leo’s fault.

Jabberwock

—Haru would be great and would have fun with it I think. He’s already a good performer so give him a character and chuck him on stage for some fun.

—Towa would like dressing in the flowy skirts, but would make a terrible performer. Might be popular as a cute airhead vibe.

—Ren is bitching about it the entire way through and gets cast as the grouchy villain character again.

Sinostra

—Romeo would definitely play a mean diva. He would be an amazing drag queen.

—Taiga I just can’t see doing this. Actually maybe he would think it’s fun so he might be down if he can gamble or drink on the mission too.

—Ritsu would be hilarious and I think he would be a terrible performer. And would threaten the audience with lawsuits for sexual harassment. The others play it off as part of his “character” even though he’s dead serious.

Hotarubi

—Subaru would probably play the role well as an actor. Don’t know how much he would particularly enjoy it. Then again, he seems to enjoy acting. Or maybe he was just excited in the haunted house because it was ghost stuff and just also happens to be really skilled at acting rather than being enthusiastic about it.

—Haku would be a little awkward about it I think, but not against it.

—Zenji would be all about it as a performer already. Not that anyone but Hotarubi and MC would know.

Obscuary

—Rui would probably do really well. He’s so flirty and charismatic that he would be instantly popular.

—Ed would be hilarious, but good luck dragging him into it.

—Lyca would just be confused and scared because he’s already weird and scared about the concept of girls.

Mortkraken

—Yuri would be hilarious. The series of events leading to him being in a drag show must be amazing to watch. His pride and over the top reactions would make him a great drag queen

—Jiro would just be himself, but wearing a dress and makeup and it would be glorious.

Picks for the mission

For who would actually be on the mission. If Darkwick picks the ghouls similarly to Waves of Love, then probably they’re gonna go for what’s funniest or who would actually be a good fit for the mission. They have a special way of picking the worst ghouls for the job or the perfect ghouls for the job.

I also think they would pick different ghouls than the ones who were on the dating show and the last inter house mission. These boys need enrichment and distraction before they rip the school apart.

���Worst picks: Ritsu, Towa, Lyca, Luca, Tohma, Yuri

—Best picks: Kaito, Romeo, Leo, Subaru, Zenji (though the audience and Darkwick wouldn’t know it), Alan (funnily enough I think he would do well, but only if he is in a duo performance and the other performer bounces off of him)

That’s of the ones that were not in Waves of Love.

[spatteringstars]

I had a thought (Absolute Essay below sorry yall)

purely because of happenstance timing of watching OSP's detail diatribes about the first phase of the MCU and Captain America and the winter soldier respectively and watching Thunderbolts all within like, a week and a half of each other, I had the thought that people are more onto something than they think they are when they say "The MCU is sooo back" in response to what Thunderbolts did. I'm not going to get into anything nitty gritty about the movie because that takes time to sit down and rewatch the movie while taking notes because no way in FUCK am I picking up on more complex theming on the first watch through when the only characters I really recognize are Yelena and Alexei.

Anyways my point- As stated and explained wonderfully by Red & Blue over at Overly Sarcastic Productions (you should go watch those two most recent videos they're great) the whole appeal of the first phase of the MCU was like- these people and heroes work well independently. They can kick ass and be great independently and then they get together and they are still good and great and working together to kick evil ass. They are connected both in story and as characters in a way that we as an audience can find extremely compelling.

It falls into the pit trap of like, ugh edginess no way all of these highly competent individuals could get along so easily, so like yeah, these people are really disagreeable with each other at first but they're also all incredibly traumatized in a way that makes it difficult for them to seek out human connection so I can forgive that. And in a way I feel like it makes the crux of my ultimate point in this more compelling. Because somehow THE WRITERS MANAGED TO BRING IT BACK!!! The parts we loved about the first phase where these characters felt like they could be independent and rich on their own but become even more so when you see their reflections in each other and how they choose to interact. We loose a little bit of that sense of superhero-ness because god forbid corporate let us embrace our comic book origins lest we remember this shit used to be for geeks, but we've finally come back a little bit to what the Avengers was supposed to be about. These misfits (because lets face it even the first group of avengers were freaks. you have to be a weirdo to actually become a superhero... Tony) come together and find comraderie and strength and family in each other. Not to power of friendship literally everything but like.... its the fucking power of friendship I don't know what you want from me. And personally, I think the power of friendship is beautiful.

I think it even does a pretty decent job on the front of connecting its villains into the context of the world the story is existing in. Valentina feels like the kind of asshole who would get pulled up in this political climate post Hydra sabotaging the world to get to project insight, she feel like the kind of person who would fall for that same trap that Fury did of "Prevention of Disaster is more important than the ethics of freedom and choice that I allegelly subscribe to as a resident and representative of the United States" but fell for it harder, thus creating Sentry, after the disaster of the Blip. That could just be my wishful thinking since Thunderbolts is the only thing I've ever seen her in, but as far as villains go I feel like she makes sense even if she's a bit uuuuuhh..... morally inconsistent (?) I guess is a way I could phrase it. Whereas shit like Thanos was entertaining and was integrated into the lore of the MCU but felt a bit out of place in the context of the themes of previous movies and I'm not even touching whatever the fuck is going on w the multiverse nonsense.

Thunderbolts cared about its characters being together. It made a point to be like "literally any separation of this team trying to deal with a problem this big will fail. You all need the unique influences and skills that everyone on this team has to offer in order to actually fix what Valentina has done (and thank GOD they're solving someone else's problem instead of their own for once *cough cough* ultron *cough cough* civil war. again OSP has much more realized thoughts on this) so get in your fucking get along shirt and learn to love each other like a family" AND I LOVE THE WRITERS FOR THAT SO MUCH. THANK YOU FOR GETTING THESE DYSFUNCTIONAL FUCKS TO LOVE EACH OTHER BOB MEANS SO MUCH TO ME

And like- obviously the movie has flaws even in this context. I can see the whole "rivalry with the *other* avengers team" going really wrong and completely trampling over everything that I (and OSP I cannot tell you how much more you will get my point if you watch their phase one detail diatribe) love about what they did with Thunderbolts. I think Ghost could have been better developed in the movie or in Ant-Man and The Wasp but I understand they had to prioritize getting us on board with Bob first. They could've done a better job expanding on the themes of mental illness in the movie and I would have loved to see it better integrated with chracters previous appearances (although again I haven't watched *all* of the new shit so I could be missing something and maybe it is better integrated, but I shouldn't have to do that much fucking homework to watch a movie but thats a separate issue I'm talking about THEMES HERE). But overall, I feel like this group of writers at least looked at what made the first phase of the MCU so good and tried to learn from it and put it into their script for Thunderbolts. And that trying, especially with all of the surrounding bullshit they have to peripherially deal with, is so valuable to me. If they keep what this movie has going, we might actually "be so back" with the MCU for a whlie until the mouse machine ruins it again.

[shiny-jr]

you've probably mentioned this previously but what is your fave disney movie and your least favorite? you seem so knowledgeable on them (or at least the ones related to twst) so i'm curious

have a great day!

Gonna take this as an opportunity to procrastinate on writing (yes, I actually have been writing, believe it or not), and rate the movies that inspired TWST. I will not be including the events or any other Disney movie, but I can add that later if y'all wanna hear me yap more.

ELEVENTH: Cinderella.

You know what? I'm about to say it. Cinderella is not a good movie. It feels like it's 50% plot with Cinderella and her story, and then the other 50% is Tom and Jerry kinda tomfoolery with the mice (Jaq and Gus Gus) and Lucifer the cat. I'm not kidding. Watch it again and you'll realize how much precious time was spent on them. Why? I couldn't answer that. It seems like a waste to me when the time could've been spent on other more creative and important scenes.

TENTH: Alice In Wonderland

Like Cinderella, Alice In Wonderland has a similar flaw where time is spent on a scene where Alice or any of the other main characters are not involved at all. However, I don't believe it's as much as Cinderella. I just don't think this movie is very good, I mean, it does a good job at feeling like nonsense but each scene feels like it could be it's own short and it literally would not make a difference.

NINTH: Sleeping Beauty

I'm just not the biggest fan of this movie. I mean, I can give them credit where credit is due. The prince here, Prince Philip, is one of the best of the early princes. He's actually pretty funny. Maleficent carries the film hard, to no one's surprise. Again, I see the same pattern of unnecessary scene, where the kings are drinking wine, singing, then arguing, then making up.

EIGHTH: Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs

Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs, higher than Sleeping Beauty? You must think me insane. I swear, I have a valid reason. I just really appreciate the historical aspect of it. That's my main reason. I like history. Call me a nerd, I don't care.

SEVENTH: 101 Dalmatians

I like dogs. A lot. Beyond just that, this was one of those films I watched a lot as a kid, and as I got older, I came to appreciate it more and more. The music for it is genuinely solid, even if the plot may not be entirely interesting throughout the entire thing. Plus, they gave one of the most iconic villains of all time (I LOVE the Cruella movie, but that's not the point). One of my favorite things about this movie is the animation. It's old, it's hand drawn, you can see the lines!! I just love that, and I can't explain why, I just do.

SIXTH: Beauty and The Beast

Some might be shocked that this movie is this low. Maybe it should've been higher. Don't get me wrong, I like this film, but I just like the others more. Belle actually isn't my favorite character, but I will say, she's a good character, just not something I'm drawn to. Gaston is an entertaining villain with one of the better villain songs. I will add this, the best addition to this film from the live action was the song "Evermore." We love to hear some male yearning.

FIFTH: Aladdin

The humor carries this film hard. Genie and the duo Jafar and Iago? My favorites. They're great. They are what make the movie special to me, because you don't usually see that type of humor often in Disney movies. It likely has to do with the fact that Genie and Iago are voiced by comedians. The music is great too, but the humor is my favorite part of this film.

FOURTH: The Little Mermaid

Historically speaking, this film is known as the one to start off the "Disney Renaissance" which is just a term used to describe the films that came and did really well after they struggled to create a good film for a while. Ariel is a decent character, but y'all know who I'm here for. URSULA. Did you know, supposedly, they struggled with her design for the longest time until they finally found her look which is based off the drag queen Divine? Look it up. Ugh, she's so iconic.

🥉 THIRD: The Princess and The Frog

Speaking of banger music. This film probably has the best songs, or at least, it's definitely up there in competition. It's also somewhat a bit familiar to me, because I spent many years in one of the neighboring states. Here's where the explanations are gonna get long as we get closer and closer to first place.

Compelling princess? Definitely. Tiana is one of the best princesses, and I will die on this hill. It's not like she was born royalty, she's humble and hardworking, and that's what makes her so unique. If you really think about it, there's not a lot of other Disney characters like her and I appreciate her for that.

Charming prince? Check. I think Naveen is one of the best princes to date. He's definitely in my top three. The design? The ego? The accent? Oh, he's definitely got it. The way he goes from insatiable flirt to down bad for one girl to the point of changing his entire lifestyle is SO GOOD.

Intimidating villain? Oh, for sure. I think people forget about Dr. Facilier a lot. And that's a shame, because he's probably like one of the last great Disney villains we've got. He was a real menace, securing deals like that and then controlling literal shadow creatures? That's terrifying?? I love it.

The cast overall does a really good job, with some household names among them (voicing Eudora, Dr. Facilier, Mama Odie) and Disney legends (voicing Big Daddy La Bouff, Ray (I met his voice actor!!)). I think my only issue with the film is that they stay frogs for longer than they're humans. That's the only real problem I can currently think of. Other than that? Great film.

🥈 SECOND: The Lion King

Make it Hamlet but lions. I'm gonna go back for a second, and remind y'all of my earlier complaints: unnecessary scenes. This movie feels like it has none of that, and that's is GREAT. Immediately it get points from me for that. Aside from that, if you go and watch this movie again right now, it still holds up amazing. It may not be no princess and prince movie, but that doesn't mean it's bad. Not at all.

Catchy soundtrack? Yes! Each song is a banger. Each. One. Even when there's no singing. What I love about it are the influences from African cultures, like the lyrics in Zulu as soon as the movie opens with "Circle of Life" among other details like the instrumentals and background singers. Not to mention, this soundtrack is written by LEGENDS. Hans Zimmer (I listen to his soundtracks all the time for writing) and Elton John. Yeah, that Elton John. My favorite villain song is from this movie. Y'all know the one. Be Prepared. FUN FACT: The voice actor for Scar actually struggled with the later part of Be Prepared, so much so that his voice gave out and someone else had to complete the song. That someone else was the same person who voices Ray from The Princess and The Frog and Ed from the Lion King (I have the signed Scar merch :)). Don't believe me? Listen to the song, and if you listen carefully, you can hear the difference with and after the line "so prepare for the coup of the century."

You can probably guess, that my favorite thing about this movie is Scar. He's such a wretched villain, literally so cunning and evil and manipulative. If you really think about it, and I mean really think about it, he technically won. I mean, for a while, he did win while Simba was gone. The only reason he lost later was because he didn't think Simba was alive. He got what he wanted for a while. What other villain can you say that for?

This movie probably has the smoothest plot out of all the ones on this list. I love revisiting this movie whenever I'm doing research for TWST. I actually did it a lot of times recently for development of lore in the Empyrean AU, and each time I check it out again, I always learn something new about this movie. Every single time.

🥇 FIRST: Hercules

Humor. Music. Characters. Plot. Action. Romance. What doesn't this movie have? Y'all can't seriously tell me you didn't expect this, especially since I've stated multiple times that it's my favorite Disney film and most of y'all know I very much enjoy Idia. Ever wonder why I love Idia's character? It's because of this movie.

I literally used to watch this movie all the time as a kid. Can you guess who was my favorite? I'll give you a hint. It wasn't Pegasus, or Phil, or Zeus, or Hercules, or Megara (although she's super iconic) ... It was Hades. Hades has always been my favorite, y'all do not even understand. Let me try to break it down, why I love not only this character but this entire movie.

The vibe is giving Caesars Palace in Vegas, and I mean that in the best way possible. Which is like so weird and specific, I know, but I think it's because it has the inspirations from Greece, right? But also, the film feels modern too with the whole fame, marketing/merchandise, and fangirls in the movie. So the vibe in itself is very unique and odd to see.

I'm gonna save the best for last, which is why I won't dwell on Hades too much yet. Yet. I'll start with how the movie starts: music. Notice how when I was talking about The Princess and The Frog, I didn't explicitly state it had the best music of all the films. Well, it was because of this one. While I will admit, none of the songs in The Princess and The Frog miss, Hercules has one less than decent song (One Last Hope, sorry Danny DeVito). The others though? All top tier songs. The Gospel Truth by the Muses? BANGER. The I want song by Hercules with Go The Distance? BANGER. Zero to Hero by the Muses? BANGER. I Won't Say by Megara? BANGER. A Star Is Born by the Muses again? BANGER. It's just banger after banger, and the fact that most of them is gospel is just amazing. It's probably the most creative take they could've gone with when composing the songs. I cannot express how much I love the Muses, their voice actors are just so talented. They ate.

Hades. My favorite Disney villain of all the time. Lord, where do I even start? I could probably write a whole essay on this character. First, I think I'll go with his actions. He's a bastard, but god is he a fun one. The way he talks, reactions, and the scenarios play out? It's so amusing, it always made me want to see the whole movie revolve around him even if he was the villain. Hot take? I think he's the strongest Disney villain. I know everyone likes to think Maleficent is the strongest, and yeah, she's strong, but Hades is a GOD. With a capital G. He released and commanded titans that took out MULTIPLE GODS. Yeah, he's evil, but technically, we can say he's like Scar in the sense that he won for like a single minute tops. But a win is a win.

The humor won me over with him, like why is he actually kinda hilarious. And that voice? That is such an unconventional voice to go with, but oddly enough, it works so well? Usually Hades in different media is portrayed as a brooding silent intimidating type of character, but this Hades is nothing like that. He's a fast talker, like a con/business man, and gives some of the most iconic lines. I can recognize that voice anywhere. Actually, I was doing research for TWST (specifically Ignihyde) once, and out of curiosity, I ended up watching part of the movie in Japanese. For research, you know. Y'all, when I tell you that Hades in the Japanese dub sounds EXACTLY like the original English version–– I lost my mind that day.

[airenyah]

oh btw i went home to my hometown yesterday and i finally showed my mom the heart killers pilot. her verdict?

"we're watching this"

[infizero]

grgrhgahahh i wanna read more pokespe but i cant do it on my phone and im not unpacking my stuff until the morning

[hxney-lemcn]

Kiss me Silly — Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader

summery: kisses with some of the Homicipher boys.

tw: slight unrequited feelings (I mean it's in the game).

wc: 1.2k (~200 per character)

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Crawling

❥Your first kiss is confusing to say the least. Mr. Crawling doesn’t know what your talking about and you try your best to explain what a kiss is and why you do it. “We touch lip” “Only someone you many like”. He doesn’t fully understand it, but you seem to like pressing your lips together, and he honestly finds himself liking it too. Any excuse to touch you is worth it in his eyes, and he finds himself wanting to do it again and again.

❥Thankfully, Mr. Crawling is a fast learner, and kisses go from sloppy to coherent quickly. Tugging at your clothes and chirping cutely in such a way you can’t say no. Kiss his lips, his forehead, cheeks, nose, he doesn’t care, he just wants your affection and you’ve open him to a whole new world.

❥Will give you kisses in return. In fact, it’s become a fifty fifty whether you get a kiss or head pats in comfort. When I say kiss I mean forehead kisses, he just finds it so comforting. If you’re really lucky he’ll pat your head and give you a kiss.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap

❥No. Sorry, but Mr. Gap isn’t a fan of any kind of affection. He barely understands the concept of liking someone! Though…you are strange. He likes messing with you, grinning devilishly every time he asks for your heart. He hasn’t had this kind of entertainment for a long time. Mr. Gap can’t deny he’s curious about those magazines you read. Why do humans do such strange things with each other?

❥After enough time, his curiosity beats his apprehension, agreeing to allow you to show ONE sign of affection. Just one though, and not for long. Tries his hardest to not back away when your face inches closer, watching you wearily as you press your lips to his. It’s weird, and uncomfortable, and his cold skin feels oddly warm. Disappears the second you pull away. 

❥Safe to say that kisses are far and few in between. Mr. Gap has a weird relationship with the sign of affection (or any). He feels awkward and doesn’t like how strange (vulnerable) it makes him feel, but on the other hand he has you try again, and he���s not sure why. Doesn’t want to dissect why (it’s cus you only do it with him and makes him feel special).

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair

❥Hahaha. He’s confused. He doesn’t understand your strange human emotions nor your fondness. You’re his test subject, and he takes some time to ponder over your offer. His scientist mindset takes over, thinks of the whole situation like a test. Sorry :/

❥Doesn’t move when you kiss him. To be fair he doesn’t know what a kiss entails, lets you take the lead. He’s confused when you pull away with a frown, your nerves clear.,,interesting. Notes the way you act in a file in his mind to go through later, your mannerisms are just the most intriguing. You have to teach him how to kiss first, he’s willing to go along with your whims as long as you don’t expect too much from the interaction.

❥Strangly, over time he finds himself expecting your affections. Cheek kisses, lip kisses, its an odd slice of domecity. He comes back from his research and you’ll greet him with a small kiss. If you forget he gets a strange hollow feeling…very strange. Will watch you until you realize he’s waiting for a greeting kiss, that nasty feeling leaving the second your warm lips land on his own. How very strange…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped

❥Looks at you weirdly. Why would you want to touch your lips to his? He doesn’t get it. Says no at first, but over time his curiosity gets the best of him. Demands that you pick him up and touch your lips together. Wants to know why you even asked. Gets a strange fluttery feeling (even though he doesn’t have a body) and finds the action oddly enticing. Demands you do it again the second you pull away, a grin stretching from ear to ear. 

❥You can only kiss him on his terms, but more often than not he’s demanding you for one. Always gets a giant dopy grin afterwards, basking in your warmth. He’s on top of the world when you shower him with affection. Leave kisses all over his face. Do it. Mr. Chopped will become a giggly mess.

❥Get’s a bit insecure that he can’t kiss you without help. He wishes he could just kiss you when he wanted instead of asking you to pick him up. But those thoughts are quickly squashed when you brighten up at seeing him, placing a quick kiss to his cheek. If he’s sleeping on the otherhand…don’t do it, no matter how cute he looks, he hate surprises, even if it’s just you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface

❥Uhm…I’m sorry to say but I’m not sure this is possible. Well, it could be if you tried hard enough. Mr. Hugeface has no idea what you’re yapping on about, you have to walk him through the steps (like bringing you close enough to his face). He’s giggling to himself as he strains to see you leaning your little head closer to his bigger one. 

❥Placing your lips to his is a difficult task when he finds himself grinning so widely at how cute you are. Can’t get enough of your kisses. Tries to kiss you back…at least he doesn’t accidentally eat you? Unfortunately, this sign of affection is a one way street, but hey! Mr. Hugeface can’t say no when you want to kiss him, it feels like little tickles.

❥Instead, Mr. Hugeface will pat your head with a finger (🙏 he tries his hardest to not squish you). Always coos at you, calling you cute over and over. Can you blame him? He’s so happy that a small little human is showing him affection! Sometimes he just wants to squish you! But he won’t…I swear, cus then he won’t be able to get any more kisses :( 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella

❥Oh boy. This guy… Won’t hesitate to do what you ask. Sure, he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about exactly or why you’d want to do such a thing, but who was he to question you? Leans down and watches you expectantly as your face inches closer, static thrumming inside his ears from excitement. Mr. Scarletella can’t deny how exciting it is to be so close to you.

❥Completely hooked the second your lips meet, his creepy grin spreading so wide it nearly breaks your kiss. I hope you’re happy, you now have a demon already at your beck and call ready to end the world if you promise him a kiss…well I guess he’d do that anyways if it made you happy. Notices that if he does things you like you kiss him more. Becomes a Pavlov’s dog situation. 

❥As boundary breaking and homicidal as Mr. Scarletella was, he won’t kiss you first. It would be wrong, you call the shots, not him, so don’t expect him to start anything. Watches you like a demonic puppy dog when he wants a kiss (all the time). Just…be a bit careful with this newfound power, Mr. Scarletella won’t take too kindly if you deny him what he wants (just a bit of a red flag…just a bit…).

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who accidentally finds out who you gave your first kiss to after being under the impression you still had it.

sure, you both were reaching an age where most people had already kissed another, been bedded, under-age drank, but kaiser never took you as the type to be so… promiscuous (“your dad was okay with it?” he had asked. “why the hell would i tell my dad about that.” your eye roll had never been louder.)

it was apparently some classmate you had dated briefly back in early high school, a time where you had both were barely able to see each other since kaiser spent some time in jail after being framed and after being bailed out by his manager, spent the majority of his time in his team’s training clubhouse. it didn’t help that it was quite a few towns away from your own, so communication grew weary between you and him during that time.

so when you and him finally reconnected and began to settle down with each other once again at an older age, where you and him were blooming into college, he’s amazed to see how much you had grown during the past few years, how your featured had matured into themselves so elegantly that sometimes, when you weren’t looking, he’d examine each bit of your features to get a proper look.

it was a little difficult attempting to gain a proper stance from him, since all the training at bastard mündchen had clearly done a work on him both good and bad, but when kaiser felt himself relaxing more and more with each frequented interaction with you—he’s brought back to when you were both children and didn’t know any better of the world around you.

so imagine his shock when you accidentally let it slip out that your first kiss went rather wrong as you and him are watching some sort of foreign sports movie where the main character’s long-time love interest finally kisses him.

“god i remember my first kiss,” you say casually, making kaiser snap his neck towards you so fast.

first kiss? you had your first kiss already? before he did???

sure, kaiser had a good amount of fans that flocked to him every chance they got and perhaps he’s done a little bit of entertaining to them, but even so—he still hasn’t necessarily had such a moment shared with another. he never felt like he needed to focus on it… never felt like it was some deed worth prioritizing becoming the best striker… until now.

“huh?” kaiser shuffles in his place and furrows his brows tightly, a vein barely visible from his forehead. “whaddya mean first kiss? with who? when?”

the questions shoot out all at once, you can’t help but laugh at kaiser’s (supposed) curiosity. you suppose the suspense of knowing what happened to that runt he met at eight years old has experienced since his arrest.

“oh, it was just a classmate from one of my sophomore classes,” you wave a hand, as if it was completely nothing to hold much regard to.

kaiser twitched, his eyes flickering towards your ripened lips. “and you gave him your first kiss?”

“probably my last too,” you sigh out wearily, “haven’t really had much people interested in me since then.”

he fell silent, going to scan your face again once more as you fixated your gaze to the tv, circling in on your lips again that give a soft pout. he twitched.

“he got too excited and ended up moreso clashing his mouth on mine—we ended up clacking teeth pretty hard,” you snort out as you stare in quiet amazement at how tender and soft the tv’s couple’s kisses were. “it ended up hurting too much to try and continue.”

you bite your lip, concentrated. “i dunno, i just wish it was more slowly, more… in-the-moment.”

kaiser twitched once more. noticing your wistful gaze at the movie playing in front of you and him. he flickers his eyes toward the intimate scene that you seem so focused on. he pays attention to how the lips of the two characters flow in a certain rhythm and how they meld into each other. they seem loose, relaxed, and that lack of tension made the kiss seem much more romantic.

he thinks back to some of how his teammates greet their girlfriends with kisses, or how he’ll just see a random couple locking lips with each other in the bars his team and him tended to as a celebration of a victorious game. kaiser had never felt a compulsion to experience such a thing, but there’s a strange magnetic feeling he’s getting that tugs him closer to you that is very much not his own rationale’s doing.

he says it with too much confidence. he says it like he’s done it numerous times before, like he’s a master at it, despite never even paying such avid attention to another’s lips until now. so kaiser doesn’t know why, but he suddenly blurts out,

“then let me show you a proper kiss.”

[ssahotchnerr]

My friend told me this story about her going golfing with her fiancé and she was like omg he is so attractive the whole time so i assume that what reader feels like all the time being with Aaron lol

a little off course

OMG i'm continuing with the golfing concept because YES cw; fem!reader, established relationship, playfulness and suggestive content <3

"Next time you go golfing with Dave," As Aaron was lounging on the couch, your arms had wrapped around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. "Can I tag along? Please?"

A double take was necessary when you asked, the request far out of your character. You've never expressed interest in golf before, and he was exceedingly surprised. Maybe it was just another way for the two of you to spend time together. Maybe you thought it would be more exciting than it actually was. You were on some kind of agenda.

Regardless, the next free sunny Saturday, you were sat in the golf cart as he and Dave made their way through the course.

But, that's all you did. You had no clear intentions of playing; you plainly sat in observance, and Aaron felt your eyes following his every move. It was almost intimidating; he wanted to do well for you.

Little did he know that while he feared you were bored, you were thoroughly entertained; present for your own indulgences.

"Sweetheart." His eyes were squinting from the sun, Dave teeing off behind him. "Are you sure you want to be here?"

You offered him a smile, and he took a second to admire how cute you looked in your sun visor, casting a shadow across the bridge of your nose. "I'm absolutely sure."

"Since when are you into golf?"

"I'm very," You paused mid-sentence, watching him (or rather, his hands) as he fixed his glove, adjusting and retightening the hold it held. "Into golf."

Only, Aaron playing golf was what you were interested in.

He and Dave played a few weekends ago, and when Aaron returned home, you found yourself regretfully wishing you accompanied them. Just when you thought he couldn't possibly be more attractive; a new genre of Aaron was unlocked and never to be concealed again.

Crisp and clean in proper golf attire - fresh khakis, a polo shirt, a newly produced, light tan gracing his skin. And now being present, the way his broad back stretched and forearms flexed as he lined up for a shot, his chest heaving in a deep exhale after hitting. Could there be a better sight?

His eyebrows crinkled adorably. "But you're just staring at me?"

"Exactly."

"Oh, I see." Aaron's lips pulled into a combination of a smile and a smirk - he should've known. His hand was resting on the cart's overhead as he looked down at you. His voice remained low, to prevent Dave from overhearing. "You're just here to undress me with your eyes, aren't you?"

"Yes and no." You defended, failing miserably at keeping your caught smile at bay. "I'm here because I love you. The undressing is an added perk."

His furrowed brows relaxed in amusement. "Is it?"

"I'll jump at any opportunity to spend time with you. It's a beautiful day, you're within arm's reach." You reached out, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. "And I get to swoon over you being sweaty and strong in the meantime. Besides, I'm also here to ward off any club members who think they may have a shot at you. You're on full display out here for anyone to see."

"Aren't you sweet." A breathless laugh escaped him - as if anyone had a chance when he had you. Aaron leaned down to kiss you gently, craning his neck slightly due to the obstruction of your hat. "Thank you, darling."

You grinned, crossing a leg over the other.

His stare hidden behind his sunglasses, Aaron's eyes involuntarily fell to your legs, seeing that your slightly-too-short skirt had slid up and exposed most of your thigh. Maybe you had a point.

"Do you want to give it a try?" He asked as Dave finished his shot, returning to the parked cart himself.

"Really?"

"Sure, I'll teach you." Aaron took your hand, helping you step off the golf cart before grabbing his driver from his bag.

He guided you to stand in front of him; his biceps were at your shoulders, his arms firmly around you and allowing little to no room for movement.

Caged in, you felt a flutter in more places than one, the weight of his chest against your back intimately familiar. Muscle memory.

A blush filled your cheeks. Not from the heat of the afternoon, but at the rate this innocent lesson (you were beginning to infer, this hadn't been innocent to begin with) had heightened. There was no way you'd successfully hit this ball now, even with Aaron's direction - being highly distracted.

"Hands here," he instructed with quiet command, moving your hands along the grip to the correct positioning. His lips were touching the shell of your ear. "Square your shoulders for me."

"Like this?" Only, you pushed your ass directly into his crotch. Aaron's hold on your wrists immediately tightened.

He barely managed a hum in confirmation, swallowing hard. "Just like that."

"Okay you two," Dave lectured from afar, a mix between amusement and slight disgust visible on his face. "Keep it PG on the green, please."

[skyahri]

Unplanned |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, and Kakashi Hatake

Summary: Pregnancy scenarios 'cause I can.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Bad words. All fluff.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

He isn't the kind of guy to outwardly dote on you.

He's never been good with words or physical touch, more so preferring quality time together. You sleep in the same bed, eat meals together when it's convenient, and lounge around together when time allows.

When you come home from a last minute doctor's appointment with some big news, none of that really changes.

He assures you that he's happy, that he loves you, and this is all wonderful, but that's about all you're going to get out the emotionally constipated man.

However, while words may not be his strong suit, actions certainly are.

It's become painfully obvious that you are never allowed to go anywhere alone ever again.

He's like a shadow, following you everywhere and anywhere you decide to go. It doesn't matter that you're just running to the market- he's coming with. Ino invited the girls over for a dinner party? Cool, he'll walk you there, hang around in the shadows outside, then walk you home.

When questioned, Sasuke only says that he doesn't trust other people. Already knowing how he is, you don't push him any further. (Not that he'd entertain you if you did.)

People notice pretty quickly. He's not subtle and it's not exactly common for the Uchiha to be so openly clingy.

You wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret for a little while longer. You knew that his status would make the whole thing bigger than you'd like and it was still so early, only about eight weeks in. But people were becoming more and more insistent with their questions.

"Seriously, did something happen? He's been watching you like a Hawk for the past month."

"It was cute at first, but now it's straight up creepy."

Sakura and Ino dramatically shiver at the notion. You laugh, imagining how unsettling this all must look from the outside.

"It's fine, I promise. He's just been a little overprotective since he found out I was pregnant."

They don't register it at first. They just nod in understanding and move to sip their tea. You can almost see it click in their heads before they slam down their cups and start freaking out.

"Wait, WHAT?"

Naruto Uzumaki

"Congratulations! Based on the ultrasound, I'd say you're about five weeks along. It's still early, but you can see a tiny sac right here-"

Your mind is going a thousand miles a minute, thinking of everything and nothing as the doctor points out the tiny, centimeter-long blob in the picture.

Naruto had been bugging you for the past three weeks about a smell. He swears it's nothing bad, just that Kurama is insisting that your scent has changed and- blah, blah, blah. You never could get any more information out of him, which just left you to eventually cave and visit the doctor. Animals have instincts for a reason and who were you to ignore them?

Turns out, that damn fox was right.

After a half-hour lecture on what you can and can't do anymore, you were handed a goodie bag of essentials and sent on your way.

You barely remember the walk home. Your mind was completely blank as it tried to process the news. It wasn't until Naruto was standing in front of you in the doorway to your home that you finally snapped out of the trance.

You stared up at him. His eyebrows were knit together and he was asking if everything was alright. He pulled everything out of your hands and not-so-gently set them on the floor.

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes blew wide and not even a second later he was smiling, pulling you into him and spinning you around. It's over just as quickly as it started. He's setting you back down on your feet and looking you over, mumbling a few hollow apologies for manhandling you. He takes a deep breath, that lopsided grin on his face never leaving.

"You're pregnant."

Just those two words have all the fog clearing from your head. Reality is forced onto you in an instant. In any other situation, it might have made you dizzy, but right now you couldn't be happier.

"I'm pregnant."

Shikamaru Nara

He really should've seen this coming.

Honestly, with how careless he is with protection, it's a wonder how you hadn't gotten pregnant sooner. A year and some change of not bothering with condoms and lazy, half-assed pullouts had finally come to bite him in the ass.

Although he knows this is all going to be horrifically bothersome, he can't find it in himself to be all that bothered. No, not when you're standing in front of him so nervously, little tears gathering on your waterline as you hold out a slip of paper for him to take.

He pulls you into a hug- a very tight, very intimate hug. One of his hands is on your lower back, pressing you into him, and the other is in your hair to cup the back of your head. He can feel the stress start to melt from your body as you relax into him, your arms moving to loosely hold him back.

"I'm sorry. I know this wasn't exactly planned..."

It definitely wasn't planned. He didn't like to think about things too hard. The only talk about the future he'd engaged in was a brief confirmation that you were both interested in pursuing each other exclusively and that neither were against marriage and kids.

But even though this was sudden and unprompted and definitely not what he was expecting when you asked to talk with him privately, he just couldn't find it in himself to be anything other than pleased. Sure, he would've liked to wait a few years and it preferably be after he'd properly proposed and married you, but none of that is deterring him.

He loved you. He didn't say it as often as he probably should, but that didn't make it any less true. You were easygoing and passive and fit into his life with no resistance. His friends liked you, possibly more than they did him. You liked to cook and he never had to worry about you causing trouble.

This was fine.

Not troublesome in the least.

"No, this is... good."

Kakashi Hatake

He was positive he was sterile. He'd have to be after all the injuries and trauma he's sustained, right? Four years and not a single scare, yet here you were, apparently three months pregnant, handing him a report from the OB's office.

He couldn't even form a sentence. He just sighed and sat back onto the couch with his eyes closed. It's only eight in the morning, it's too early for this, not that there'd ever be a great time.

"I knew you weren't going to be thrilled, but now I'm starting to get nervous. Can you please say something?"

He held his arm up and gestured for you to come towards him. When he could feel you brush against him, he grabbed your wrist and carefully yanked you onto his lap. You let out a relieved, albeit hesitant, chuckle as he slowly wrapped himself around you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stayed like that for a little while until he let out the loudest, most dramatic groan you'd ever heard leave his mouth, followed by a mumbled 'are you sure?', to which you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure. Here, you can see for yourself."

You unfold the paper and pulled out a few pictures. He shifts you around so you're at a better angle before he takes them into his hands. It's obvious that he has no idea what he's looking at- just that the blob is already baby-shaped and very, very intimidating.

You point out some of the obvious things, the head and feet and such, before moving down to the very last photo at the bottom.

"And that little spot right there means that we're having a boy."

"I thought they couldn't tell the gender until later."

"It is later, Kashi. Fourteen weeks."

He lets you take the pictures from him so he can set his hand on your stomach. You'd mentioned gaining a little weight recently, which he honestly hadn't noticed, but now he's wondering how he could've missed it as he brushes his fingers over the slightest most obvious bump in your usually flat stomach.

He must've been zoned out for too long, because you're calling his name and setting your hand over his. He hums, a slight acknowledgment that he's heard you, but you know he's not actually listening.

He's too busy thinking about diapers and bottles and late nights and early mornings. How his son is going to be in the same class as his student's kids. How Gai is going to be a hundred times more annoying in the coming years.

But then a single thought completely derails his spiraling. He wonders what your baby will look like. If he'll be a morning person like you or like to take naps like him. If they'll accel in genjutsu or not, because while he certainly does, you most certainly don't.

He's spent time with Kurenai and Mirai. While raising a person definitely seemed difficult, he couldn't deny that Kurenai was happy. Actually, despite Asuma's untimely death, she's the happiest he'd ever seen her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just... thinking about how annoying it'll be to tell everyone we're expecting."

"Seemed more like panicking to me."

"... shut up."

[writella]

Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

[antiquarianfics]

Look Away

You say Bucky has a staring problem. He says you shouldn’t share back.

a/n: i’m baaaack! i hope you enjoy it!

warnings: n/a

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

The room’s bustling with activity as you stand at the bar with your friend. When Sam had invited you to this party meant to honor him and his efforts as Captain America, you didn’t really know what to expect. You might have guessed there would be an open bar, but the rest of it? A posh parlor in The White House? Live music? Countless senators and generals around to clap Sam on the back and thank him for his work? Total surprise. However, despite the surprise of the luxurious and high profile venue, you found that you felt rather at ease amongst your couple of friends in attendance. No matter where you are, joking around with your boys has always stayed a safe and entertaining activity.

“He’s staring again,” Sam says with a smirk, lifting his glass in right hand to point at the brooding man sat across the room.

You grin, take a languid sip from your own drink, and shrug.

“Good,” you say lightly. “I like when he looks at me.”

Sam barks out a laugh at the comment, patting your shoulder with his free hand.

“Well, that’s good because he stares a lot,” Sam responds. “Not just at you, though,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Are you trying to make him watching my every move less romantic, Samuel?” You ask, placing your free hand on your chest and faking a gasp in mock offense.

“Not at all,” he says teasingly.

You look over your shoulder again to watch the object of your conversation, and, sure enough, his icy blue eyes are still trained on you. You might expect someone to turn away when caught staring, but the man across the room doesn’t. He never does. You turn back to Sam, shaking your head.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” you say. “Besides, I think Joaquin was wanting to talk to you.” You nod in the general direction that you think you’d seen Sam’s protégé.

Sam nods, places a chaste and friendly kiss on your forehead, and leaves to find his other friend. You smile fondly as you turn to cross the room towards your super soldier.

Bucky Barnes is sat in the corner of the room on what appears to be a rather uncomfortable couch. Comfortability aside, the furniture is rather luxurious and fits right in with the rest of the room. It’s Bucky who appears out of place, sitting in the corner, glaring at the people wandering about the party, clenching his fist uncomfortably, and taking angry sips from his whiskey glass.

You saunter over and sit down right next to him, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around you as you lean your head on his shoulder. The two of you, while not together, are best friends and more than comfortable with each other. You’re vaguely aware that you likely look like a couple to any passerby, but you can’t bring yourself to care. In fact, it makes you happy to think that anyone might think you and Bucky are together—it’s all you’ve wanted for an embarrassingly long time.

“Hi,” you say cheerfully.

“Hi,” he replied, voice gruff from disuse. You don’t think he’s spoken to anyone since you got here and wandered off to talk to your other friends.

“You look so angry over here,” you tease. “Somethin’ happen?”

He sighs, pinching your shoulder in response to the teasing. You let out a little squeak and halfheartedly swat at him, earning a chuckle out of the man.

“You look nice,” you tell him, moving the conversation away from his attitude. If you really think about it, you can’t blame him for being in a bad mood around all of the politicians and generals: they had tried to detain him, spouting all sorts of derogatory rhetoric towards him only a couple of years ago. You’d be in a bad mood yourself, if you were in his shoes. Besides, he really does look good in his fitted suit. “The black on black monochrome look is nice.”

Bucky smiles softly at the compliment. “Thanks, Doll,” he says. “You clean up nice yourself.” His eyes do a once over of your outfit: a deep blue satin gown, white evening gloves, and a tasteful diamond necklace and matching earrings. You’d fretted over your outfit, hair, and makeup for a week leading up to this party, and Bucky’s compliment—his attention—makes all the fretting feel worth it.

You blush, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, reveling in each other’s company as you people-watch. You fiddle with the wine glass in your hand, absentmindedly swirling the wine around, as you try your best to control your breathing (which had grown ever so slightly erratic from Bucky’s compliments). Beside you, Bucky downs the rest of his own drink before setting the glass on the end table beside him. You’re still looking forward, focusing on the party in front of you, when you feel his steely gaze on you again.

“You know,” you muse, tone teasing, “people say you’ve got a staring problem.”

“So I’ve been told,” he replied dryly, but you can practically hear the smirk he is sporting.

“Some people would call it rude.”

He shrugs, “Who? Sam?”

You giggle, “Maybe.”

You turn to study his face, arching an eyebrow. He’s still staring at you, eyes carefully tracking every detail of your face. He wears a content smile on his face as he watches you, letting his fingers gently tap against your shoulder. You smile softly at him as you feel your heartbeat pick up.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you breathe out.

“Like what, Doll?”

“Like… Hell, like you love me.”

His fingers still against your shoulder and he doesn’t seem to fight the grin spreading across his lips.

“No,” he says.

“No?”

“No. If you don’t want me looking at you like I love you, then just don’t look back.”

You feel your mouth drop open ever so slightly in surprise as you look back. You can’t bring yourself to look away. He’s teasing—you know he’s got to be teasing you—but maybe, just maybe, he might love you back. Maybe you don’t need to keep pretending you’re just friends. Maybe your love and adoration for the man beside you had never been unrequited like you thought. Maybe you’ve wasted so much time by not just talking about your feelings.

“What,” you start, nerves fraying your voice. “What do you mean by that, James?” You whisper the question, so incredibly anxious about what he is going to say.

He raises an eyebrow, still smirking, and says your name. “You’re smart. Figure it out. What do you think I mean by that?”

“I know what I think you mean,” you breathe. “I just…” You swallow anxiously. “I just don’t want to voice it and be wrong.”

Bucky fixes you with a sympathetic smile, “Sweetheart, I’ll bet money you’re not wrong.”

“How can you be sure? I might be way off base. I might think you mean to throw me off balance—to make me put my guard down—by playing ball with my feelings so that you can kill me and dump my body under a bridge.”

Bucky barks out a laugh. “Now why would I do all that?”

“I don’t know. I’m just saying you can’t be sure that I’m actually picking up what you’re putting down because I’m actually insane for thinking what I’m actually thinking.”

“I promise you I’m not going to kill you. I’d be heartbroken without you,” he says, voice dripping with sincerity. You think his breathing has picked up, too, but you’re unsure. After all, your mind is swirling trying to figure out if he’s trying to tell you that he genuinely loves you back.

“Bucky,” you say, a warning in your voice. “Please don’t play with my feelings like this.” You begin to chew on your lip in an attempt to ease your worried mind.

He says your name again in the most patient tone you’ve ever heard from him. You feel him wrap his arm more tightly around you, and his free hand comes to cup your face. With the gentlest touch, he swipes his thumb over your lip, pulling it out from between your teeth.

“You worry too much,” he breathes.

When did his face get so close to yours?

He kisses you. Sweetly, softly. He kisses you in the softest, most patient way in which someone kisses a person they’ve been dreaming of kissing for years. He kisses you like he’s trying to convince you that he wants you just as much as you want him. He kisses you like he’d die happy if it were the last thing he ever does.

His hand is gently grasping your face. His other arm is holding you safely against him. His lips move against yours. You freeze for a mere moment while you do what you can to let your brain catch up with what is happening. The moment passes you quickly, though, and you’re kissing him back. You move the wine glass to your left hand as you angle your body into him. You let your right hand reach up to his face, holding him close as you kiss him back fervently—desperate to never let this moment end.

When neither of you can breathe, you pull away, resting your foreheads against one another’s.

“Bucky,” you breathe, a smile pulling across your face.

“Hmm?” He hums. You shiver when you feel his breath against your face.

“I think you were saying you might love me back.”

“I wasn’t saying that,” he says.

You pull away to look him in the eyes, opening your mouth to question him. He sees the panic in your eyes, but he just smiles, pulling you back in for another kiss. When he pulls back again, he speaks.

“I was saying I absolutely love you back. No ‘might.’ I do. I love you. With everything in me, I love you.”