#Genevieve Glasses

[gardenbicycle]

Geneviève (2021) by Erica Ohmi

[ghostkiiiid]

so.

[fiercerthanyou]

“Resilience: Living in a Pandemic since 1492” (2021),

Osceola Red Shirt (Oglala Lakota) and Genevieve Red Shirt (Rosebud Sioux, Chickasaw, Taíno) ,  

Wicket and Craig tooling leather, glass, metal, sweet grass, thread, hand-painted imitation eagle feathers, ermine pelts, red wool, red horsehair, buckskin leather, re-purposed Buffalo felt hat. 

Collection of Agnes Hsu-Tang, PhD and Oscar Tang

Photo by Two Guns Leather

[creativedifferencespodcast]

Are “Eat the Rich” films currently in style? Is Andor the most anti-fascist Star Wars media? Is Jenna Ortega mysterious, spooky, and all together ooky? Did the Guardians of the Galaxy kick off the Christmas spirit? We’ve got a jam packed review today, so join us as we talk about Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery, Andor, Wednesday, and The Guardians of the Galaxy Holiday Special!

You can also find us on Spotify and Apple Podcasts!

[i2sunric]

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT (p.js)

pairing: ceo!jay x reader (f)

summary: when the stress caused by his high working position and the little nights of sleep start affecting jay, he can’t think of anything better than taking you in every surface of the house.

warnings: 5% plot 95% smut. missionary, rough sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), fingering, blowjob, cream pie, slight cnc (but not really), pet names (doll, pretty, baby), reader calls jay ‘daddy’, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mean!dom jay, deepthroat, aftercare. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

wc: 4.0k

published: 25th May 2024

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle (oneshot) @yanggarden106 @sunghoonsgff @nellwoo @jjklvr9 @silkycherryred @shuawons @delusionsforleehan @melody-fav @deobitifull @gonorrheaisme @maymarrylhs @wildflowermooon @ro-diaries @nyxtwixx @crimnalseung @wolfhardbby @seongiewon @yohanabanana @minseongsworld @minjaexvz @avaleyshin @capri-cuntz @honeybunnee @hooniebaekgu @americanojake @kirinaa08 @jakedoxxenvasion @microwavedstrawberr1es @ineedsomezzz @dojaejunging @stone-odb @sjakewrld @nctislifue @seonghwaexile @ratchet-sebooty @monstaxdirtywonk @soraokkotsu @mura-r1k1xyz @genevieve-blr @shutupsisi @shiningnono @riki-riks-chick @kim2005bomi @iraa567 BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED (i hope i didn’t forget anyone 💔)

a/n: ok, there was another whole sex scene but i didn’t want to overdo it so here ya go. LIKE & REBLOG TO SPREAD! & let me know your thoughts <3

Jay was beyond exhausted and he was sure that hadn’t he been that kind, he would’ve strangled someone. 

Not only did he have four meetings in the span of twelve hours but he also had a painful hard-on since lunch time that he still hadn’t dealt with.

He could’ve taken care of it in the car, but the thought of coming home and sleeping beside you was more tempting than whacking off. 

As soon as he entered the house, Jay dropped his working bag that hit the floor with a heavy thud. Unbuttoning his shirt, he walked to the kitchen and hung it on the side of the chair. 

He headed to the cupboard and took out one of his dear glasses that his father-in-law had gifted him for your wedding anniversary. He took the bottle of Whiskey beside it and poured plenty. 

Jay rested his back against the countertop and sighed heavily,

slowly sipping the drink until its content was gone. Feeling slightly better, but not as much as to forget the evident bulge making his pants feel a few sizes tighter, he left the kitchen and walked to the living room.

“Jay?” Your hoarse voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he looked at you standing in front of the sofa where you were just sleeping, waiting for him. Your hair a little messy while you rubbed your eye. You were wearing one of his old shirts, not even bothering to put a pair of pants on. 

You looked so perfect, like an angel that went to earth just to save him— and so his to ruin. 

Jay walked toward you without even caring about anything else and took your chin in his grasp, pulling you into a hungry kiss. 

You hummed in surprise, your sleepy mind still slow in processing what was happening, but soon enough you kissed him back.

He pushed you down on the couch again, making you lay as he got on top of you “Are you doing to make daddy feel better?” He asked in a husky voice. 

You knew exactly what he meant, his hips rocking against yours, rubbing the bulge on your clothed core. He was stressed, he needed something to relieve it, something to make it feel better— and you were down to help him, even if it meant giving him your body.

“Yes.” You breathed out “Want you to feel better, daddy.” 

“Good girl.” He groped your breast through the fabric of the loose t-shirt, groaning when he felt your nipples harden, no bra to stop his palm to feel them “You know what’s next, don’t you?”

You nodded and opened your legs, wider, making room for him to kneel in the middle.

Jay raised your shirt, making it rest just below your chin, your tits on full display. Now, his cock twitched in his pants, already sensitive from being neglected for so much, just the sight of you under him was enough to make it leak with precum. 

“Mine.” He murmured, one hand sneaking up to wrap around your neck. You raised your head slightly and his lips found yours in a hungry kiss.

Jay bit down on your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood but enough to make it pulse. 

His hand went down to grasp your thigh, opening it wider. You bucked your hips, your clit rubbing against his own thigh. 

Jay chuckled “So needy. Do you need me that much, baby? All worked up already?” He bent down and raised your hips, removing your panties and throwing them on the floor.

You were already so wet it was ridiculous, slick dripping down the sofa “Jay.” You breathed out. 

“Yes, baby?” He asked, raising his glance to look at you “Use your words.” 

You bucked your hip, needing something to release the bothering feeling between your legs. 

Jay tsked “Say please.” You looked into his eyes, so desperate “Please— feels so uncomfortable.” 

He smiled “I’ll fix that.” He leaned back down, pushing your thighs apart. He started pressing hot, open mouthed kisses all over your inner thighs, right above where you needed him the most. 

“So pretty.” Jay whispered and then gave one kitten lick to your clit, tasting you. You gasped, your head thrown back already. 

As he started licking, sucking on your wet folds you sneaked one hand behind his head, grasping his hair “Oh, lord.”

He pulled away, his eyes dark. "Not lord. Jay.” Then he dived again between your legs. 

Jay’s tongue darted out, tasting you. Slow, long licks, taking his savouring you.

 “Yes!” You exclaimed, bucking your hips, making his nose hit your clit. “Stay still," He ordered. "You're being a naughty girl, baby." 

“Mh— I’m sorry.” You said, looking down at him “I think I’m gonna have to punish you.” He spanked your thigh, making you whimper.

Jay grinned feral and licked agai. “I’ll stop if you keep moving, understand?”

You nodded, trying your best not to move your hips “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He murmured and then licked a long strap from your bud. 

However, as he licked a certain spot, your hips bucked up again. Jay pulled away immediately, frowning "Didn’t I say to stay still, doll? Didn’t I?"

“M’sorry.” You said “Feels so good.” Jay cooed "I know, baby." He spanked your thigh again. "But you keep moving. Don’t you wanna be good?"

Another whimper left your lips, the red mark of his finger forming on your skin “Wanna be good for daddy.” 

"Yeah? Then behave, or I'm gonna leave you like this." Jay said, his breath hot against you. "Don’t move." He threatened.

He stuck his tongue back on your clit, licking slowly. You grasped the fabric of the sofa, keeping your hips glued to it. 

Jay kept his licks slow, occasionally inserting his tongue just to pull it out right away “Look at you,” He spat on your pussy “Being so good for me.” 

You moaned out “Jay,” You said “Jay, don’t stop.”

And he didn’t, working you harder, wanting to pull moans out of you “You like this?”

You moaned when he sucked on your sensitive bud “S’good.“ Your eyes squeezed “I’m gonna—“

As you pronounced those words, his tongue detached from you, he raised himself, licking his lips.

You squirmed, a disappointed sound leaving your mouth “What's wrong, baby?” He asked, rubbing his thumb on your inner thigh.

“Was close.” You pouted while Jay just grinned “I know, doll.” 

"Then why'd you stop?” You whined. 

Jay tsked "Y/N, you don't get to talk back to me like that. Don’t you remember what I said? I was going to punish you for moving."

You nodded and closed your lips before you could anger him any further. Jay smiled slyly and moved to stand in front of your face, unzipping his pants, removing both them and his boxers.

“You know what to do, baby.” He said, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You looked so pretty, all ready just to be used by him. 

You completely laid on the sofa and turned your head to face his red tip, so hard. You gave it a small lick and kisses. 

You knew he was just letting you do that, he was the one in control anyways. 

You maintained eye contact with him as you took him in your mouth, trying to fit his whole length inside your throat. 

"Oh, baby—“ His head leaned back, his hand gripping your hair firmly. “You're so pretty like this."

However, your movements were slow and steady, not the kind of blowjob you knew Jay liked. 

He groaned and pulled you away by your hair. "Stop it.” He reprimanded, looking down at you. "You always have to push it, huh?"

Jay slapped your tit, making you whimper out “You wanna be a brat, mh? You like the feeling of my hand on you?"

You nodded, rubbing your thighs together, desperate to soothe the aching feeling between them.

Jay leaned in, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. “Use your words, baby." You hummed “Yes daddy, like it.” 

Jay gave you one of his killer smirks before pressing his tip back on your lips, making you open up as he pushed himself back inside your warm mouth. 

He gripped your hair, using you to seek pleasure, his hips bucking back and forth. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He gave one rather big thrust, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to you gagging, but that one was stronger than the others and he was worried, so he pulled himself out, not wanting to hurt you. 

He pulled gently on your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

"You okay, doll?"

You took a deep breath and just smiled up at him, wrapping your lips back around his throbbing cock. 

Jay let out a small growl, “Such a good girl for me.” He kept his hand behind your head, bucking his hips. 

He could see spit coating your chin, falling down the floor onto his discarded clothes but he didn’t mind. Not when you looked so straight out of a porn, the squelching sounds of gagging and spit filling the room. 

“Yes,” He panted, speeding his thrusts “Just like that.” You looked up at him and gripped his hips, trying to steady yourself as he used your mouth to jerk off.

Jay’s breaths were coming out as gasps, his hand gently rubbing on your shoulder to make you lay back better. He pulled out and walked to stand behind your head. 

Your head was barely on the sofa “Open up.” He said, his body hovering on yours for a deepthroat. 

You opened your mouth and soon felt his whole length down your throat, you tried your best not to gag, tears threatening to roll down your  cheeks. 

Jay groaned, twitching inside your mouth. His fingers went to pinch your nipples as he began to move again, slower that time. 

Your eyes rolled back, gagging and breathing through your nose, his balls gently tapping against your nose every time he thrusted. 

Jay put one hand on your throat, feeling his cock moving underneath the skin. He twitched inside you, already so close. 

He slapped your tits one more time, watching as his fingers’ marks appeared on your chest. 

The humming sound you let out sent vibrations through his whole body, making him cum right there. 

His warm seed slowly dripped down your throat, the bittersweet taste making you moan around it. 

Jay pulled out as you took a few deep breaths, looking up at him through glossy eyes and spit coated face. 

He leaned down, his thumb wiping the corner of your lips. "So pretty like that." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your lips

You gave him a sloppy kiss “I need to clean you up.” He stated, raising himself and walking into the kitchen.

You waited there, laid on the sofa, but the aching feeling between your legs still hadn’t gone— if not, it was stronger than before. 

You pushed yourself up and followed him shortly, hugging his back as you saw him taking a cloth from the drawer. 

Jay smiled warmly and turned around to hug your waist, placing a small kiss on your head “You good?” He asked gently.

You just looked up at him and took one of his hands that rested on your waist to guide it down until it reached your heat. 

He raised a brow, his fingers slowly circling your clit “What do you want, doll?” His tone was low again. 

“Want to cum too.” You rested your head on his chest, your breath growing heavier. 

Jay started rubbing a tiny bit harder, his free hand running through your hair. "You need it, baby?"

You nodded, your hand grasping his forearm to steady yourself and not jerk away as he rubbed your sensitive bud. His hand, instead, went to raise your chin, making you look up “Want me to help you?”

“Please Jay,” You pleaded, your eyes glossy “Be a good girl this time.” 

You bit down your bottom lip, humming “Yeah? Gonna behave for daddy?” His hand sped up, his thumb applying pressure over that sensitive spot.

You bucked your hips in response, feeling the knot tightening inside your stomach “Shh, baby. Take what I give you.” 

Jay’s eyes were focused on you, watching your every reaction. his other hand moved to cradle the back of your head, keeping you focused on him. 

As his fingers kept working on your sensitive bud, your mouth fell agape "Keep your eyes on me, baby," He whispered. "Look at me, not away from me." He said, starting to speed up.

You fought to keep your eyes open not to anger him and make him deny you another orgasm as pretty moans fell from your lips like music to his ears. 

Your hand went to grasp his muscled forearm, your whole body trembling as the knot in your stomach snapped, making you fall apart.

Jay’s fingers slowed down when you trembled, bringing you back to reality. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you were still trembling. "There you go, I’ve got you. He whispered against your hair “Did so well for me”. 

As you slowly came down of your high, you looked up at him with glossy eyes, your euphoria still lingering, sending small shivers through your body. 

Something primal awoke inside his gaze “Lord.” He groaned, pulling you into a heated kiss.

His hands ran down your spine, resting on the small of your back, keeping you as close to him as possible.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tiptoed to reach his height. 

Jay’s hands ran up your back, his mouth finding your neck. He started nibbling. "Mine," he mumbled. "So mine." His hands left your back to grab your thighs, lifting you up.

Jay turned you around and placed you on the countertop; He was devouring you, his teeth grazing your skin as he sucked and bit on your neck.  

You could feel him harden against your inner thigh as his hands travelled down your chest to squeeze your tits, twirling and pinching your nipples.

You moaned when he claimed your mouth again, your own hand moving to pump his shaft “Fuck.” He groaned, bucking his hips forward. 

“You look so good on my counter.” He said, his breath coming out into puffs. His hips kept rocking forwards, fucking your fist. 

“Want to make you feel better, daddy.” You murmured against his lips, your voice so innocent and weak made his cock twitch. 

Jay’s fingers curled around your chin, holding you still “Want to make daddy feel better? Want to be a good girl—Shit.” He groaned “For me?”

“Yes, daddy.” You breathed out, the mushroom tip teasing your entrance “Please, I’ll make you feel good.” 

Jay hummed, removing your hand from his cock to kiss you deeply again “I know baby,” His lips brushed your bottom lip “You always do, mh?” He fisted your hair, “Daddy’s good girl.” 

Jay patted your thigh and you complied with his wishes, wrapping your legs around his waist. He lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and hurried upstairs, not wanting to waste more time. 

He kicked the door of your bedroom open while your lips were still attached and gently laid you on the bed. He pulled away to stare at your figure, so pretty just for him. 

He crawled on top of you and trailed kisses all over your naked body, not leaving even one spot untouched by his lips “So gorgeous.” 

His lips trailed down your collarbone to your chest, licking your sensitive nipples and then down your stomach until he was about to reach your clit— His phone ringtone started ringing all around the house from downstairs, the quiet of the night not leaving any doubt. 

Jay groaned, resting his head on your hip. He was a very composed person and set a different ringtone for all of his contacts so that he knew who was calling. It couldn’t be ignored since that classical music belonged to one of his most important foreign partners.

"Do not move." He warned, getting out of bed and disappearing into the hallway.

You waited for him, laying on the bed. You took the time to relax a little from your previous orgasm, staring at the ceiling. 

Jay came back around ten minutes later, his whole aura darker than the one he had when he first stepped in the house.

His brows were knitted and he closed the door, dangerously slow. He crawled on the bed and spread your legs open. 

You watched him through puzzled eyes but Jay didn’t even spare you a glance as he aligned himself to your entrance and thrust himself inside without even a warning. 

A pained whimper left your mouth, your eyes squeezing and body growing rigid. You weren’t exactly as wet as you were ten minutes before and his cock wasn’t exactly small, so the stretch was painful. 

“Y/N.” He whispered against your skin, not moving as you clenched around him. His breath was hot on your skin, his fingers running up the side of your waist in a soothing way "Needed this.” 

Jay started moving, slowly, he sighed and pulled away so he could look down at you “Relax baby, you need to relax.” 

Your walls kept clenching and sucking him in, the pain spread all over your lower region, making you choke out a gasp. 

He groaned when he heard you gasp, but he was too focused on his own relief to pull away. "So good, baby." He panted.

Jay’s hands moved up your sides, trailing feather light across your skin “Sorry, just—“ His eyes squeezed shut “Just take it.”

He kept pounding inside of you, rubbing slow circles on your clit to help you relax. When the pain subdued to the pleasure, you let out a moan.

“That’s it, doll.” He groaned “So good.”

“Jay,” You breathed out, your hands going to scratch his back, your hips moving with the same rhythm as his, making you two a single person.

He twitched inside of you “Christ, Y/N— Say that again.” You rolled your eyes back as he hit a certain spot “Jay!” 

"That's my girl," He said huskily, “Yeah, baby." His hands gripped your hips and pressed him close to you “Need to be closer."

Your breath was coming out in pants “Feels so deep.” You murmured and Jay placed one hand behind your head, grasping your hair and lifting your head. 

Jay made you watch himself go in and out, his shaft disappearing just to reappear, making you moan “See?” You reached out your tummy and pressed where you could see the shadow of his bulge, the moan that escaped his lips made you clench around him. 

“My perfect girl.” Jay cooed and then let go of your hand, making it fall on the pillow. He gripped both of your hips and quickened his pace, rutting inside of you at an animalistic speed. 

His chest pressing into yours. "Take my fucking cock." he groaned, his hips moving faster “Good?"

You just nodded, “Fuck— Mh, daddy.” He slapped your pussy, sending shivers all around your body “No cursing.” He nagged, making you whimper “Sorry.” 

“S’okay.” He reassured, slapping another time your pussy just to see you quiver underneath him “Close?” 

You nodded again “S’close— Don’t stop.” You pleaded, your own hand moving down to circle your clit. 

It didn’t take much for you to cream his cock, your walls clenching so hard around him as your body shuddered.

"Yeah," He told you, his fingers digging in your hips, keeping you pinned down. "There you go," He mumbled.

However, Jay’s thrusts never faltered, if not he moved faster, chasing his own release. He looked down to see the white circle of cum around his cock, his head thrown back in pleasure.

Your whole body shook in overstimulation, “Jay,” You panted, trying to push his chest away “T-too much.” 

His hands stayed pressed into your hips, holding them down into the mattress. "Shh, baby," he groaned. "You can take it, I know you can.” 

You shook your head, your toes curling as a broken whimper left your mouth “Just a little more.” 

Jay pressed a small kiss on your earlobe, whispering “So good, you feel so good.” Your mind was hazy, your eyes closed with the amount of pleasure you were receiving. 

But Jay still didn’t fall apart, his release was close but he was doing his best to hold back. 

Your legs were tired so you wrapped them around his waist, your nails digging in his back, making you moan out “Ngh— J-Jay.. I can’t.” Tears pooled your eyes, threatening to fall out. You felt another knot tighten in your lower belly, your mouth falling agape. 

Jay noticed your body language and smirked, his thrusts so fast and rough the headboard slammed against the wall, along with the sound of skin slapping and the wet noises from your pussy. 

Your back arched from the mattress, your body shuddering as you reached your third orgasm of the night. 

At the same time, Jay’s mouth formed an ‘O’, his own seed filling you up. His thrusts slowed, pumping you full of his cum, not even letting a single drop fall out. 

You were a moaning mess, shivers rocking through your body “Shh,” Jay cooed, running his thumb on your sweaty cheek “I’ve got you.” 

He held you close to himself, waiting for you to come down of your high. He gently kissed your lips, breathing each other. Your bodies mended, melting together just like your souls. 

You then pulled away, looking at him with glossy and teary eyes, your cheeks flushed and hair sticking to your neck from

the sweat. 

Jay smiled softly, “My love.” He murmured, pressing a featherlight kiss on your brow “My girl.” 

You smiled back at him, “Better now?” You asked, your voice hoarse. 

He chuckled and raised himself from your body, reluctantly peeling his skin away from you “You always make me feel better.” 

After a warm shower, filled with massages and small making out sessions, both you and Jay were laying on the bed, the light rays of light belonging to the early morning hours entered from the curtains. 

You rested your head on his chest as his fingers slowly trailed up and down your back. 

“I really don’t want to go to work.” He murmured, his nose filling with the smell of your shampoo “Don’t go.” You said back, “Stay with me.”

Jay shook his head “I can’t.” He placed a small kiss on your head. 

“Why not?” You frowned “Just one day.” He pulled you closer, hugging your arm. “I have an important meeting today.”

You sighed “You always do.” Jay chuckled at your words “You want to know why I’m enduring so many working hours?” 

You nodded, looking up at him “Why? Money, it doesn’t miss in your life.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He smiled “But I never know how the company will go in the future, it may fail or go bankrupt and I want to save enough money to let our children have a good life.” 

You widened your eyes, raising your head from his chest “You said our children.” 

Jay pecked your lips “I did.” You blinked faintly, “You want to have a family with me?” 

He took your face in his hands, gently rubbing his fingers on your cheeks “First, I want to marry you.” He placed one kiss on your forehead “Then, I want to have a baby with you, or maybe two.” He kissed your nose, “And at last I want to grow old and grey with you.”  He kissed your lips deeply.

“I want a life with you, Y/N. You’re the only one that can make me feel alive.” And it was then, the moment you swore to never leave Jay’s side, no matter the complications that occurred.

[duckprintspress]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, EVERYONE! We are thrilled to announce our second-annual Pride Bundles for Charity with two all-new short story bundles – 30 stories total! – that we are selling at a discount to raise money for our chosen queer charity!

Last year, our debut Pride bundles raised almost $350 for queer charities. This year, we’re back with a new General Imprint Bundle and a new Explicit Imprint Bundle, each discounted 20% from their list prices (and each including multiple stories that aren’t for sale and are usually only available to our backers on Patreon) and with 20% of the net profit going to Rainbow Railroad.

How This Works

you buy one or both bundles between now and July 8th, 2024.

we tally up all the proceeds earned and do some math-e-magic to figure out how much we’re donating!

before the end of July, we donate the raised money to Rainbow Railroad, we post the proof we’ve done so.

you get fantastic stories!

we all get that happy, glowy feeling of knowing that money has been well-spent on fantastic causes!

About the Press

Duck Prints Press is a queer-owned indie press, founded to publish original works by fancreators. We’ve been in operation for over 3 years, and in that time we’ve worked with well over 150 creators to publish six anthologies and almost 100 other stories, from shorts to novels, and we’ve got more on the works (our next anthology, our first erotica collection, will be crowdfunding within the next month!). The vast majority of our creators and their creations are queer/LGTBQIA+ (maybe even all, but we don’t out anyone and we don’t ask demography because, frankly, it’s none of our business).

25 of our authors have chosen to include their short stories in one or both of these short story bundles, and all our short story authors nominated potential charities and voted to select Rainbow Railroad as the beneficiary for our 2024 Pride Bundles.

About Rainbow Railroad

In countries around the world, LGBTQI+ people face violence and oppression simply because of who they love or who they are. Rainbow Railroad helps them get to safety! Rainbow Railroad is a global not-for-profit organization that helps at-risk LGBTQI+ people get to safety worldwide. Based in the United States and Canada, they’re an organization that helps LGBTQI+ people facing persecution based on their sexual orientation, gender identity and sex characteristics. In a time when there are more displaced people than ever, LGBTQI+ people are uniquely vulnerable due to systemic, state-enabled homophobia and transphobia. These factors either displace them in their own country or prevent them from escaping harm. 

Note: This charity isnot affiliated with the Press, do not know we’re doing this fundraiser, have not endorsed this in anyway and are, as such, utterly uninvolved in this beyond being the beneficiaries of our efforts! Text is from the Rainbow Railroad website.

About the Bundles

We are offering two bundles, one with 18 short stories published under our General Imprint, the other containing 12 stories published under our Explicit Imprint. The shop listings include details about and excerpts from all the stories. Here’s the gist…

Titles in the General Imprint Charity Bundle:

The Princess and the Maze by A. L. Heard

Of Loops and Weaves by Catherine E. Green

Glass Slipper: A Dance by Cedar D. McCafferty-Svec

Songs, Suppers, and Stories by D. V. Morse

Waiting for the Tide to Turn by Genevieve Maxwell

Chinaski’s Dirty Work by J. D. Harlock

Foundations by Johnathan Stern

Seal Island by K. B. Vimes

Into the Wyvern’s Lair by Mikki Madison

Sarisa by N. C. Farrell

Whispers of Atlantis: A Tale of Discovery and Belonging by Neo Scarlett

Be Not Afraid by Nicola Kapron

Awkward and Oblivious by R. L. Houck

Washer Wars: A Laundromat Feud by Samantha M. Piper

The Wayward Timekeeper by Terra P. Waters

if it’s meant to be by Tris Lawrence

Meet C(omm)ute by Violet J. Hayes

Chrysopoeia by Zel Howland

18 stories. 254 pages. 82,462 words of fiction!

Price: $22.50

Approximately 20% of the list price of this bundle will go to Rainbow Railroad.

Titles in the Explicit Imprint Charity Bundle:

Brambles, Pollen, and Other Natural Disasters by A. L. Heard

A night such as this by April Steenburgh

Theirs All Along by boneturtle

Orchidelirium by Dei Walker

Old Kings and New by Lyonel Loy

Weather the Storm by Lyn Weaver

Pretty 7 Days a Week by R. L. Houck

Adventures of the Scarlet Sentry: After Dark by Samantha M. Piper

Worlds Apart (but Still Close) by Sanne Burg

Taken at Sea by Shea Sullivan

Warm Anything You Want by Tris Lawrence

LA Photographs Itself by YF Ollwell

12 stories. 198 pages. 69,550 words.

Price: $21.50

Approximately 20% of the list price of this bundle will go to Rainbow Railroad.

Come get some great stories, support a queer-owned business this Pride, and benefit two fantastic causes. Win-win-win situations don’t get much better than this!

These bundles will only be available for one month, so don’t miss out. Visit our webstore between now and July 8th and get yours!

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 7

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Victoria wanted to scratch your face with her long nails and pull your hair. She put down her wine glass and stormed toward you, her heels clicking angrily against the floor.

How dare you take her place?

Even as Bucky's official fiancée, she never had the chance to hold him like that. He always pushed her away.

But you… She hated the fact that you were able to stand beside Bucky like that.

Her eyes burned with fury as she approached, her hands clenched into fists.

What did you do to make Bucky look at you like... like he's in love with you? How he looks at you is so different from how he looks at her—as if she's not essential to him.

Victoria could feel the coldness from him but with you? She could sense the warmth in Bucky's gaze toward you, even from afar.

"Wasn't Bucky's fiancée Victoria?" one guest whispered.

"Shhh," another guest hushed her friend.

The judging eyes of the guests felt like needles pricking her skin. She didn’t have to look at them to feel their scrutiny.

Victoria's face contorted with barely suppressed rage with every step closer to you. Her hands shook, her nails biting into her palms as she struggled to maintain her composure.

"Don't do anything," her mom said, grabbing Victoria's hand.

Victoria whispered angrily, "Why?" What reason could her mom have for stopping her?

Genevieve didn’t say anything, just tilted her head slightly toward Jonathan. He was also watching Bucky and you, but his expression was calm, unlike the two women’s.

That means he knew. He knew you were coming.

Victoria stormed over to her dad despite Genevieve's attempt to stop her.

"Why is my fiancé walking with her?" she demanded in a harsh whisper.

Jonathan looked at his younger daughter, who was already panicking because things weren’t going her way. He sighed his expression a mix of frustration and patience.

“Victoria, calm down,” he said firmly. “There’s a reason for this, and it’s not what you think. Bucky has his reasons, and you need to trust the process.”

Victoria's eyes narrowed, her breath quickening. She glanced back at you and Bucky, the fire in her eyes intensifying.

"Trust the process?" she hissed. "This is humiliating. Do you have any idea how this looks?"

Jonathan's gaze hardened. "This isn’t about looks, Victoria. It's about something much more important."

Genevieve, still holding Victoria’s arm, squeezed gently. “Listen to your father,” she urged. “We’ll handle this, but not here and not like this.”

Victoria clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to regain control. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He sighed inwardly. What was wrong with his kin? None of them had inherited his calmness. Jonathan was a heartless man, and he embraced it. His lack of empathy was the reason the company thrived.

Not wanting to embarrass herself, Genevieve said, "This will ruin our business with the Barnes family."

Jonathan smirked. Failure was not in his vocabulary.

"Did you forget why the Barneses agreed to give their only son to us?" he asked, his tone icy.

Genevieve fell silent.

Victoria, who had just overheard this, looked confused and concerned. "Mom, what is Dad talking about?"

Genevieve hesitated, searching for the right words to explain. She wanted to protect her daughter from the harsh truths.

Flashback Start

After Genevieve suggested the idea of an engagement between both families, Jonathan initially thought it would be impossible. It wasn't a bad idea, but the Barneses were like royalty in the business world.

He didn't expect Bucky's father to agree. However, there was a condition: “If my son has second thoughts before the marriage, he can end the relationship.”

That was the truth of the engagement. Jonathan had told Genevieve to remind Victoria not to get too attached to Bucky.

He had prepared for the possibility that Bucky might want to end the engagement. Even though Jonathan was a cold father, he saw at the engagement party that there was no spark between Bucky and Victoria.

But he never thought Bucky would come to him and ask for you.

His first daughter was wild and always going berserk. How in the world could Bucky be interested in you?

Nonetheless, Bucky still chose someone from the Sinclair family.

Flashback End

Victoria fumed. "Outrageous. This is adultery."

Jonathan sipped his wine calmly. "There's nothing between you and him. Even a blind person could feel it."

"But..." She couldn't deny it.

Genevieve interjected, "Bucky is supposed to be with Victoria." Her plan was for Victoria to marry Bucky. She wanted her daughter to have the best. But you have ruined everything.

"Silence," Jonathan commanded.

That single word from his mouth silenced both women. They could see the unyielding determination in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter as long as he's with someone from our family. Don’t forget, she is still my daughter," he said, giving a warning look to his wife. His voice was low and firm, leaving no room for argument.

He knew everything she did to you. He didn't help you because you told him you didn't want anything from him, so he obliged.

The way you despised him also made him ignore you more.

But now, seeing you and Bucky together, he knew he had to give you more attention.

Genevieve went pale because this meant that Jonathan had acknowledged your position.

The three of them went silent.

In contrast, your heartbeat was racing because everyone's eyes were on you.

You gripped Bucky's arm tighter. “I don't fit in here.”

Bucky felt it too. He gently patted your hand and said, “Don't worry. It's time for you to claim back what's yours.”

He was right. You used to dream of this moment. It seemed impossible, but now you're here because of Bucky.

You got this!

Author Note: I learned it too late that I made Bucky's mothers name is the same as the reader's grandma. Lol. 😂 So, I changed Bucky's mother's name to Juliana, while the name Cassandra belongs to the reader's grandma.

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@chemtrails-club

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@itsteambarnes

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@sapphirebarnes

@thedonswife13

@angelbabyyy99

@cjand10

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@buckitostan

@wh0reforbucknasty

@bada-lee-ily

@evie-119

@mrsstuckyboo

@ghalouha

@iamasimpingh0e

@loki-laufeyson68

@buckybarnessimpp

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[thebluemallet]

Eros/Psyche Parallels in Bridgerton Season 3

The show was not subtle with the Eros/Psyche parallels this season. So I attempted to go through episode by episode and find the connections. If I miss any obvious ones, let me know and I'll edit the post.

3x01- Out of the Shadows

Starting off strong with the opening credits! You briefly see a butterfly. Not only do the Featheringtons use butterflies as often as the Bridgertons use bees, but the butterfly is a symbol of Psyche.

When Penelope opens her wardrobe to that sea of YELLOW, her butterfly dress from the first ball of season 1 is visible.

Penelope talks with Genevieve about needing to find a husband this season and then we cut directly to Gregory with a bow (sans arrow) and he's pointing it directly at Colin. The bow and arrow is a symbol of Eros/Cupid.

Penelope sheds her cloak at that ball like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.

The original Eros/Psyche myth has some jealous sisters and Prudence and Philippa, while maybe not jealous per se, are not happy to see their baby sister shining so brightly when she arrives.

And for more connection to the sisters--Psyche is the youngest of three daughters and her two older sisters are married before she is.

This one is, admittedly, a bit of a stretch but in the original myth there's some ire from Aphrodite because of all the attention Psyche is getting. And Cressida rips Penelope's dress once she is getting all the attention at the ball, specifically from Lord Debling.

Eros is sent by Aphrodite in the original story to marry Psyche off to marry someone/thing horrible (or just making sure no man wants to marry her) but Eros ends up falling for Psyche himself. Colin offers to help Penelope find a husband as a way to make up for what he said about her last year and, well, we all know where this is going!

3x02- How Bright The Moon

Edited to add (credit to @bridgertonblue)- Colin cuts his hand on the glass in the study. They flashback to this scene a few episodes later when Colin finally decides to take action with Penelope and his feelings for her. This can be a parallel to Eros getting struck with his own arrows and falling for Psyche.

Eros only visits Psyche at night. Colin comes to see Penelope at night in the garden after their scheme is exposed.

Eros accidentally struck himself with his own arrows and that's how he came to fall in love with Psyche. Colin kissed Penelope because he thought he was doing it for a friend, and he ended up awakening feelings he didn't even realize he had for her.

3x03- Forces of Nature

In the Architectural Digest Bridgerton Set Tour video, you'll see butterflies on the staircase in the entrance hall of Featherington House. It's not exclusive to this episode, I just thought I'd highlight it here since it's when we have the Eloise apology scene.

THIS ONE IS A HUGE STRETCH BUT I'LL PUT IT IN HERE ANYWAY--remember how windy it was with the balloon and Colin's arms that Penelope couldn't stop drooling over? Psyche was carried by Zephyrus-the West Wind-to her fancy new home and the godly husband she never sees.

3x04- Old Friends

Eros is tasked with marrying Psyche off, falls in love with her, and marries her instead. Colin offers to help Penelope find a husband earlier in the season, realizes he's been in love with her this whole time, and we get the iconic line, "For God's sake, Penelope Featherington! Are you going to marry me or not?"

3x05- Tick Tock

This one is another stretch, but Psyche has some jealous sisters who are not permitted to visit her at her new home (until Psyche convinces her husband to let them visit many months later). Prudence and Phillipa are being mean to Penelope over her engagement and Portia doesn't allow them to attend the engagement party. A Bridgerton engagement party, so you know that stings.

And another stretch! Psyche gets pressured by her sisters to find out her husband's true identity. Penelope gets pressured by Eloise to reveal her secret identity to Colin.

3x06- Romancing Mr. Bridgerton

Eros tells Psyche that she can never know what she looks like, which is why he only visits at night. If Psyche knows who her husband is, then eventually Aphrodite will find out and she'll be pissed. But Psyche, filled with doubt thanks to her jealous sisters, lights a candle while Eros is asleep, revealing his identity and betraying Eros.

Penelope writes/delivers her Whistledown column at night. Colin follows after her, discovers her secret identity, and feels betrayed.

3x07- The Joining of Hands

Eros leaves Psyche, feeling betrayed even though he still loves her deeply. Colin is cold and distant to Penelope in the fresh sting of his betrayal. But he still loves her and goes through with the wedding.

3x08- "Into the Light"

Eros refuses to see Psyche because he's been so hurt by her betrayal. Colin sleeps ten feet away from his wife's bedroom door (they must have had other bedrooms!) and leaves soon after she wakes up in episode 8.

Psyche has to go through some trials put forth by Aphrodite to get a chance to see her husband again. Penelope is confronted and blackmailed by Cressida when the latter learns that she is Lady Whistledown.

Psyche approaches two different goddesses to help her find Eros. Sometimes they refuse to help. Sometimes one of them points her in the direction of Aphrodite's place. Those two goddesses are Hera and Demeter. Two members of the most unlikely dream team in this episode are Portia and Eloise.

Hera is the goddess of marriage, women, and family, and she doesn't have the reputation of being an upstanding mother in mythology. She parallels Portia, mother to three ladies who she wants to see in secure marriages.

Demeter is the goddess of the harvest and agriculture. This is more of a reach, but she can parallel Eloise. In her book, her love interest Sir Phillip is experimenting in his greenhouse with peas(?) (I should probably read that book again) to increase their yield. Eloise also initially refused to get in between Penelope and Colin in the previous episode.

When Psyche goes through these trials, she's pregnant with Eros's baby. The showrunners confirmed that Colin knocked up Penelope in that mirror scene so she's in the very early stages of pregnancy here.

Psyche is indirectly helped by Eros (Zeus's eagle helps her out when they remember they owe Eros a favor). This angers Aphrodite and makes things worse for Psyche. Colin tries to save his wife by appealing to Cressida and ends up making things worse for Penelope.

Psyche's final trial involves going to the underworld. She deems this an impossible task and intends to sacrifice herself before she finds another way. Penelope decides to reveal her identity to the Queen and the ton, effectively sacrificing her reputation and potentially her marriage.

Zeus listens to Eros's pleas and grants Psyche immortality. The Queen is merciful to Penelope and doesn't punish her for Whistledown, allowing her to keep writing.

Psyche is often depicted either with butterfly wings or with a butterfly near/around her in art. Mrs. Varley releases the bugs (butterflies) directly after the Whistledown reveal.

Eros and Psyche are reunited and live a rare Happily Ever After in mythology. Penelope and Colin reconcile and go on to their own Happily Ever After.

[consoledacup]

There is a hell of a lot to say about mirrors. Aside from Colin and Penelope's perfect love story, I love how their romance is completely intertwined with identity.

Mirrors are everywhere this season. Penelope's staring at herself with Genevieve behind her, outwardly prioritizing her career over love. And her transformation is only skin deep and smartly subverted at the ball.

Varley is encouraging Penelope's new look, saying, "the looking glass does not lie." Such a sweet thing to say! But she says it during the Whistledown voice over. So the looking glass doesn't lie, but Penelope sure does. And at the end of the episode, after that captivating gossip scene at the Osterley Ball, Penelope simply reflects what the rest of the ton is saying in Whistledown.

Colin's brief reflection in the mirror behind Penelope at Stowell House highlights how he is never far from her thoughts.

Love the little moment Colin has with Violet where she comes to see him in the study, and he leans into the light when she brings up friendship and love, and you see his reflection behind her. The mirror play in the Fuller Library was so great. The thin persona Colin is projecting to the toxic lord squad is so not reflective of who is actually in his heart. And I really love Penelope's resigned little vanity mirror shot, readying herself for Debling's proposal and convincing herself she has no need for love.

The mirror intimacy scene is the sexiest, rawest, most revealing, most tender love scene I've ever seen. I personally think that the vulnerability of the mirror scene alone makes this season the most intimate it's ever been. I love that it starts with the mirror. I love that the mirror was all over in promos and was the third character in the teaser trailer. I love that the song that plays is "p.o.v."

And then we have the parallel of Genevieve behind Penelope in front of the mirror once more, this time with Penelope surrendering her career for love.

What makes the mirror intimacy scene so well-written and angsty is Colin believing that they were completely baring themselves to one another in that moment, mind, body, and soul. And while Penelope had found no other moment with him more special, she was still holding back parts of herself. And that is why it is so heartbreaking when Colin tells her the reason they'll still marry is because they were intimate. He's struggling to get the words out, as he reflects on their time together. He feels betrayed. He was honest with her inside and out, and she wasn't. And once again, Genevieve is an incredible support when she reminds Penelope that true love comes from loving each other, and themselves, fully.

When we see Colin battling with himself after admitting defeat to Penelope's team, there is a brief shot of him in the mirror as he openly lusts after his wife, frozen in conflict. And Penelope's reflection is shown as she's made the firm decision to unmask Whistledown, leading to the public reveal of her identity.

These characters are not just stepping into the light this season, but they're also forced to confront their own reflections. And as they examine all aspects of themselves, even the parts they used to hide from, they can't help but fall that much more deeply in love with each other. It really is such a beautiful message!

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Asking your friends for help when you need it is starting to feel good instead of scary. Even listening to Cat open up doesn't sting like it once did. Bradley starts to have an ominous feeling about his upcoming mission, and when the details are revealed, he's left wondering what his career will be like in the future.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

There was truly something to be said for the way you felt after you talked to Dr. Genevieve. Even though your period was a few days late, and you had been holding out hope, you didn't go quite to pieces when it did end up starting. Sure, there were some tears as you opened up a new box of tampons, but you didn't dwell on it as much as you had the past several cycles in a row. 

In fact, when you thought you couldn't take the physical pain of your cramps and the mental pain as well, you called Maria. You told her that you didn't want to be alone and asked if she could stop by. And she came over with a backpack and some donuts. 

"What's in the bag?" you asked as you bit into a Boston cream. 

"Clothes for tomorrow," she replied, petting Tramp while she ate a chocolate donut with sprinkles. "I figured I could sleep over."

"You don't have to," you whispered, now feeling a little embarrassed. 

But she just shrugged. "I've been a little lonely, too. My new roommate has never been as fun as you were."

"Nobody is," you added, biting into a second donut. You figured you earned it, since you'd started to get back on track with what you were eating. "Thanks for joining me in the cafeteria at work."

"Thanks for actually coming to lunch. Cam is hella boring to eat with every day."

You groaned and headed for the couch with a bottle of wine. "Ugh, I left you hanging with Cam. I'm sorry." You were going to be better about taking care of everything. Yourself, your marriage, Bradley, and your friends. 

Maria just laughed and followed behind you with two glasses and a corkscrew. "I love him, but he's still a dude. And just inherently dumb. He can't help it."

The girl talk ended up spiraling into a great weekend, and when you went to work on Monday morning, you still felt good. And Bickel had been a saint, not acting weird or giving you too much distance at all since you broke down hard in his office. Sure, maybe he was asking you how you were feeling with a little more frequency, but he kept your workload the same and never questioned anything you handed in to him.

And then there was Cat. Since you kind of blew the Jake thing up in her face, she'd been very quiet. Jake was still claiming nothing was going on now, but you'd never have been able to get an answer out of Cat one way or the other. And now you were thinking maybe you should have just minded your own business. Because Jake seemed melancholy, and he hadn't actually ended things himself even after he learned about Uncle Hondo. 

"Good morning," you said to Cat later in the week when you walked into the lab. She seemed surprised you were greeting her.

'Hi," she responded, slipping back into her usual state of calm immediately. "If you're about to ask about the calculation set, I'm almost done. I just need another hour or two."

"No rush," you replied. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today?"

She eyed you skeptically. "In the cafeteria?"

You shrugged. "Or my office?"

When Cat didn't respond right away, you wanted to kick yourself. But then she said, "I feel like you and I just keep getting off to bad start after bad start with each other. I'd like to eat with you, but I don't want to go down to the cafeteria. At all. Just looking at Lieutenant Seresin makes me want to hide."

"Care to elaborate?" you asked cautiously. 

She just smirked. "Sure. Over lunch. In your office."

---------------------------

Bradley had stripped down to his underwear and gym shorts, and he was currently trying his hardest to meditate on his bed. Bob had spent the last several weeks patiently trying to explain to him exactly what went into it, but Bradley would reach a state of calm and then inevitably get distracted. 

He cracked his eyes open to see Bob in a state of complete relaxation on his own bed. Something about this just didn't work as well for him, and his brain was buzzing, so Bradley reached for his notebook instead. There were too many things he wanted to write down. It felt like he wasn't going to be able to stop emptying out all of his feelings now that he started, and after several weeks, the notebook was mostly full. 

The desire to be at home was overwhelming. Thinking about eating homemade Marry Me Rooster with his wife perched on his lap was all that was getting him through this deployment. As soon as he was home, he'd make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him. There were no conditions on his love, and he was embarrassed and crushed that maybe he made you think there were. 

He only had a few more weeks to go. But things with the mission were looking abysmal. Slayer and Charmer were getting worse to deal with by the day, and the way the admirals praised them was beyond ridiculous. Like the shiny, new aviators were somehow better than the ones with more experience. Like Bradley, Nat and Bob couldn't keep up now. It was hard to keep believing that the admirals would actually put the best team together to complete the mission. 

"Wow," Bob suddenly said, stretching his arms over his head and removing his glasses. "That was a great session."

"Yep," Bradley agreed, nodding as he scribbled in the notebook. "Really good, Bob."

But the other man was already pulling the bedding up to his shoulders, and Bradley knew he'd be asleep soon. "Good for you," he muttered, returning to his notebook. 

Nat and Bob were so good to him, this deployment should have been a breeze. And it had improved since he got to talk to you over facetime in the commanding officer's quarters, but he thought he'd go ahead and start a countdown in the notebook anyway. Just eighteen more days until he should be arriving back in San Diego. And he was hoping like hell he would get to call you again before then. 

But a few days later, he still hadn't been selected for another facetime session. And Bob and Nat got called out onto the tarmac after dinner for a repairs inspection that was performed on their Super Hornet. So Bradley headed to the gym for a workout by himself, and the room was thankfully fairly empty. He put in his ear buds and got out his phone. He selected the playlist you made for him last year called This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley and he smiled. 

Pretty soon he was sweating, working his way through some bicep curls, when he saw Slayer out of the corner of his eye. He would ignore him. No problem. Only two weeks left to go. Only a few more days until the mission. "Do not engage," Bradley muttered to himself. 

But of course he couldn't control what Slayer decided to do, and the idiot wandered over toward him. And then he snatched his phone off of the bench, and Bradley was on his feet immediately, still clutching the fifty pound dumbbell in his left hand. 

"What the hell do you want?" Bradley asked, plucking one ear bud out. "It's bad enough I have to see you in the classroom all day."

Slayer just laughed, and Bradley realized he was staring at his lock screen. "Just wanted another look at your wife. How much younger is she, old man? She got a grandpa fetish or something?"

Bradley's fingers tightened around the dumbbell, and he wished he'd given more of an effort to meditating with Bob. 

He was seething. And then Slayer asked him, "You know what? Why don't you just give me her number so I can keep her warm next time you're out of town?"

Bradley had to fight the urge to throw the dumbbell at him. "You talk an awful lot for someone so stupid."

"And you strut around like you own the place for something who can barely fly."

Bradley's blood was boiling now. The admirals had pumped these kids so full of bullshit, there was going to be no arguing with him. Instead he snatched his phone out of Slayer's hand and pocketed it. "And you're slow as shit versus an old man. Now get back to your bunk, it's almost curfew for the children."

Slayer smirked at him as he backed away toward an empty weight bench. "Just wait. You'll see."

--------------------------

You had made it this far, you could make it two more weeks. But you got your period again, right on time. And you knew it was ridiculous to get choked up when you had to get the tampons and pads out again, because Bradley wasn't even home. You hadn't had intercourse since he left six weeks ago. You knew there was no way. But just the idea of knowing another cycle was ending had tears stinging behind your eyes. 

When you heard the doorbell, you quickly washed your hands and rushed out to where Tramp was practically howling at the front door. "Chill out," you told him. "You'll be happy. You loved him last time."

"Hi," Cat said as soon as you opened the door, and you saw Hondo pull away in his green Chevy. Jeremiah was in her arms, and once again, he smiled when he saw you. Things at work were a lot better, including having several nice conversations with Cat.

"Sorry, little guy," you said softly as they came inside. "No Rooster this time."

Cat laughed. "I think your dog will suffice. He loves animals."

When you closed the door, you watched Tramp follow them over to the couch, and then he started licking Jeremiah's little hands nonstop while the baby laughed. "If he's annoying, I can put him out back for a bit."

"No," Cat said as she and her son both laughed. "This is great." And then Jeremiah broke free from her arms and stood with both hands on Tramp. And you swore your dog had never been happier either. 

A little pang of sadness struck your heart as Tramp looked all too delighted at the attention he was being given. You were searching for a safe topic of conversation. Cat had been joining you for lunch on occasion, which was great. But now you found that you had so many friends, you needed to juggle your time with them. Cam and Cat were a little awkward around each other. And Cat wouldn't tell you exactly how she felt about Jake, but you knew Jake was sad and Cat was avoiding him.

So you asked her, "You still feel like hiding from Jake at work?" It seemed like a safe enough topic, and you almost laughed when she covered her face and collapsed dramatically against the arm of the couch. 

"Please! You keep asking me about this!"

"I'm curious by nature," you claimed. "And you never really told me anything."

She glanced at you as Jeremiah went crawling across the floor after Tramp. "I'm still embarrassed that I even kissed him in the first place. Uncle Bernie and I had it out several times about all the push ups, but he was just trying to take care of me. And I know that sounds like an excuse, but... keeping someone like Jake away from me is probably his top priority while Jer and I are living with him."

You tried to keep your composure, because you and Cat seemed to finally be getting along, but you just couldn't understand why she wouldn't give Jake a chance for real. "He's a good guy, Cat. God... I can't even tell you how many times he's helped me out and made me feel safe."

She turned to face you where you sat at the other end of the couch. "He's exactly like my ex husband. A cocky, handsome aviator who is too smart for his own good."

You shrugged and kind of nodded, because that definitely sounded like Jake. "Well whatever your ex did to piss you off, I doubt Jake would be the same. Are you afraid he won't accept Jeremiah?"

She swallowed hard. "I'd rather not even find out where he stands on his opinions about my son. And listen, there's a reason why my ex husband never met Jeremiah. And it's the same reason I never let him know our son's social security number or where we ran off to. I'm sure he has a hunch that I was able to transfer to Top Gun, but Mike is definitely too scared to come sniffing around for more while I'm with Bernie."

You shook your head in confusion. "Come sniffing around for more of what?"

"Money," she said simply, but her jaw was set, and she looked ready for a fight. And you should have probably known all along that there was more than what she had told you over the past few months. You were pretty sure you were the only one who even knew about Jeremiah, besides Bradley and Cam. And if Cat was the type of person who took their time opening up to people, you were surprised that you were the one she was talking to about this.

"He wants your money?" you asked softly. 

Since she borrowed your car, you knew she didn't have one, and she said that she was broke. But your jaw dropped open when she said, "Mike was dishonorably discharged from the navy for showing up to work drunk and drinking while on base. He tanked his own career, and nobody in Annapolis could even look at me the same after that."

"Why would he do that?"

She laughed, but she looked like she was going to cry. "Because I told him I was pregnant."

Jeremiah was laying on his back now while Tramp licked his neck, and he was giggling up a storm. "I'm so confused," you told her. "He didn't want you to get pregnant?"

"Well he told me he would be happy to have kids. But by the time I told him I was pregnant with Jer, he had already opened four credit cards in my name. He had already lost all of our savings. And he knew I was going to find out about all of it as soon as I mentioned us opening a bank account for our unborn child."

"Oh."

When she met your eyes, she shook her head. "He has a gambling addiction." You watched as she wiped at her cheek. "I used to own a beautiful house," she said, glancing around longingly. "I had a car. He and I had money saved. But he managed to lose all of it, plus the credit card advancements in my name. I owe more than half a million dollars in money that I didn't spend. Money that I never saw. And that doesn't include what I've paid to my lawyers. Mike did all of that while I thought we were building a life together."

"Holy shit," you whispered. You felt nauseous just thinking about it. And you were suddenly even more thankful for Bradley.

"So yeah... cocky, headstrong aviators might be my type on paper, but I can't get involved. And I'm sorry I was leading Jake on. But, it's not just him. I can't get serious with anyone when my life is a trainwreck that I will never be able to recover from. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life trying to make sure this doesn't all fall to him," she said, nodding toward where Jeremiah was now crawling back toward the couch with Tramp following right behind him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I don't know what else to say except that you didn't deserve any of that, and neither did Jeremiah."

She reached down to scoop him up into her arms as he yawned. "Yeah well, I hope you're smarter than me. I hope you had a prenup."

You sat quietly and watched as she kissed Jeremiah's forehead and reached into the diaper bag she brought with her so he could eat some cereal. Cat had been honest with you. She told you months ago that she was jealous of you, and now you knew why. You had all these things that you were taking for granted. 

For some reason, you thought she ought to know that you'd been jealous all along, too. "You still have something so good though. Something I wish I had."

She looked at you like you'd completely lost it while Jeremiah ate some Cheerios. "What? A marriage that ended in shambles and a career that is hanging on by a thread? Or the inability to ever have someone take you seriously in a relationship ever again?"

"No. Jeremiah."

She looked at you, and her face dropped. "Oh." And maybe she realized that meant you and Bradley had been trying unsuccessfully, but you changed the subject before she could ask any questions. 

"But that doesn't matter, really. And you know, there are some things we do have control over here."

"Like what?" she asked, and when you smiled softly, she smiled back.

"Jake. I think you might be surprised by him, Cat. I think he'd be good with Jeremiah."

"No," she replied right away. "I'd rather not even find out. Besides, it's already too late with Jake. Even if he was going to stop sleeping around, it's done. He asked me out at least fifteen times. And I said no at least fifteen times."

"If he asked you out again, would you say yes?"

You jumped several inches when your doorbell rang again, and Tramp ran for the door like he was a professional guard dog. "We didn't even order a pizza yet," you said as you stood. But the closer you got to the door, you thought you knew who it must be, and you answered it anyway.

"Angel," Jake drawled, bending to pet Tramp who immediately turned into a puppy again at the prospect of pets from one of his favorite people. "Just thought maybe you'd want to get dinner and head to the Hard Deck later?"

When you didn't respond right away, Jake pushed the door open wider and let himself inside. Then you watched him freeze up as he saw Cat sitting on your couch with Jeremiah in her arms. "Cat."

She looked absolutely mortified as she stood up, but she had nowhere to go. She was reliant upon Hondo coming back to pick her up, and Jake was staring right at Jeremiah. "Jake," she said so softly, you could barely hear her across the room.

He huffed out a short breath and ran his fingers through his hair, past the scar on his forehead from the last time he was deployed with Bradley. You weren't sure what you should do, but then he simply said, "You have a kid."

Cat's chin was in the air again, and you knew she wouldn't let Jake or anyone else say one negative thing about that child without consequences. "His name is Jeremiah."

"Jeremiah," Jake repeated, and two sets of matching dark eyes were looking right at him before Jeremiah yawned and fell asleep on his mom's chest. "He's adorable."

Cat sank slowly down so she was sitting on the couch once again, and she looked like the fight was gone, almost like she was exhausted now. You nudged Jake in the ribs and then reached for Tramp's leash where it hung near the door. "I'll be right back. Just going to take him out." But nobody was listening to you. Once the leash was clipped on his collar, Tramp pulled you out onto the front porch. You caught one last glimpse of Jake taking up residence in the spot on the couch you'd vacated, and then you closed the door.

You puttered around the yard with Tramp before deciding to just walk him down to the beach and back. But the early spring air was chilly when the wind picked up across the sand, and you wished you'd taken a minute to grab Bradley's sweatshirt from the hook as well. 

Playing a comparison game in your mind would get you nowhere, you knew that. Everything Cat told you was completely fucked up, but she had to know how that Jeremiah was worth it. And you knew that Bradley was enough, even if it was just the two of you. But now you were a little worried about Jake putting his foot in his mouth. 

When you hustled back down your block, shivering as the breeze picked up some more, you saw that Jake's car was still in your driveway. And when you cautiously let yourself back inside with Tramp, you found Cat and Jake sitting very close together on the couch. And Jake was holding Jeremiah while he slept.

-------------------------

Bradley knew it would be a short call. The mission was scheduled for a few days from now, weather depending. But if he was allowed even five minutes with you, he'd take it any day of the week. 

When you answered his facetime call, you were sitting in your office with your lunch in front of you. "Roo!" you gasped, dropping your fork into your burrito bowl. "I miss you!"

"I miss you, too, Sweetheart."

He watched as you turned to someone off screen and said, "Okay, thanks."

"Who are you eating lunch with?"

"Cat," you replied quickly, and he was a little surprised by that answer. "She just stepped out into the hallway so we could talk. Please tell me you'll be home on time, Bradley."

He smiled and said, "Haven't been notified of any changes, so I think so. Please tell me you got plenty of hot sauce in there."

You laughed and tipped your lunch so he could see all of the green hot sauce. "Absolutely. You know how I like it."

"I do," he replied softly as he examined your face. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. And you looked so much happier now. You looked like you'd been sleeping better. 

"I wish I was sharing my lunch with you."

He nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about our dining room. And how it feels so good to hold you on my lap while we eat a meal off of one plate."

You gasped softly. "I've been thinking about that too." When your eyes drifted closed, you added, "And how you wrap your left arm around me and kiss my neck while he eat."

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspy, and he was aching to be with you right now. "We'll do everything." 

But he only had one more minute with you, and he wanted to know how you were doing. When he asked, you said, "I can tell you when you get home. Tell me about the mission."

"I can't say much. Teams get selected tomorrow morning. Flight is weather dependent. You know the drill."

"I do. I just want you to be safe," you told him softly. "Need you to come home."

"I'll be there so soon. I love you."

And after that, he still felt so good as he got to the classroom a few minutes early the next morning. Admiral Dean smirked at him as he took his usual seat, and the room started filling up. Other than the fact that he had to stare at the back of Slayer's head, he was ready to get this mission in the air and get home.

"As you well know," Admiral Dean started, "the final details will not be set in stone until the day of the mission. So we are left with two options, and we need to be clear on both of them. Option A: the two teams will fly in formation and strike the communications tower first before proceeding to the enemy base. This is the preferred option as we would be removing multiple streams of communication first, but we may need to switch to an alternate flight path if they have too many aircrafts in the air. So that brings us to Option B, in which you will strike the base first and then loop around to the communications tower."

Bradley's brain was literally numb from listening to this information over and over again. He understood the importance of what needed to be done, but this was overkill now. When he glanced at Nat, she looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. Until Dean spoke again.

"If there are no questions, that brings us to team selections. Four aircrafts will be flying this mission. We've chosen the best, and I am already convinced of the success of this mission. The teams will be as follows: Slayer will be paired with Phoenix and Bob."

His heart sank. Shit. That was supposed to be Bradley's pairing. Fucking Slayer. But it probably didn't matter too much if he was flying alongside a different two-seater, just as long as he was in the air with his friends. Really, all four aircrafts were responsible for keeping each other safe, so he wouldn't be too far from them at all. 

"And the second team will be Charmer paired with Terror and Mack."

It took a second to register. But slowly, it seemed like everyone in the room was turning to stare at Bradley. Admiral Dean looked smug. Nat and Bob looked distraught. And Slayer looked damn near delighted. Then Charmer turned to him and laughed. 

And Bradley had the fleeting thought that his career was over. He was the oldest aviator in the room by a few years. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was falling short with proving himself in the air just as he had been messing things up on the ground with you. And that sick, embarrassed feeling in his stomach was there to stay as all those thoughts took up permanent residence in his mind.

-----------------------------

Oh. That stings. That really hurt my feelings. Bradley could fly circles around them. And how do we feel about Jake? Cat? Jeremiah? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

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@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

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@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

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@desert-fern

[pupsmailbox]

DOLL︰PUPPET ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ abbie. adelaide. adorablesse. adorablette. aerlyn. alena. alexis. alice. amaia. amaya. andrea. angeline. ankou. annabelle. annie. antoinette. anxiette. anxious. apricot. asaka. ash. asha. aspen. atticus. ava. avel. babette. babydoll. bambi. bambina. bambino. bashfelle. bashful. beau. bellamy. belle. bells. bernadette. blu. blue. bluesse. bluette. blushe. blushesse. blushette. boo. bram. bronach. bronagh. brone. button. buttons. cadel. candace. carmilla. carrie. catherine. cessair. charlie. charlott. charlotte. chelsea. chia. chica. chirella. chirelle. chiwa. chuckie. claeg. coffin. colere. commedia. constance. coquette. cordelia. corelle. corette. corsette. cypress. dahlia. dalia. damon. darling. dawn. dearesse. dearest. dearette. dearie. deidre. demure. desdemona. devin. devon. doilie. doily. doll. dollaintye. dollawie. dollerie. dollesse. dollette. dolleyed. dollie. dolline. dollita. dolly. dolores. dottie. drea. dread. drusilla. dáinn. eeria. eldritche. elissar. eliza. elle. elodie. eloise. emerence. emily. essie. esther. evangela. evangeline. evelyn. eveyln. faith. frill. frillette. genevieve. genoveva. gia. gladys. glorie. glory. gorey. gorie. gracelyn. gregory. gretta. gwen. gwenivive. haldor. haunt. hiccup. hyde. iraia. iresse. irette. itishree. jabez. janelle. janet. jannet. jinx. josie. julie. juniper. juno. kailey. kanani. kewpie. kiva. krak. lace. lacesse. lacette. lacey. lacie. lain. laintess. lakka. lalki. lavender. lea. lefu. letta. letum. libitina. lilac. lillith. lilly. lily. loaela. lola. lolah. loletta. lolita. lolite. lolla. lottie. lovelace. luci. lucius. lulu. lute. lyla. lys. madison. mahina. mandy. mannie. manon. many. mara. maria. marianette. marie. marion. marionette. marionne. marotte. marrionette. marrow. mary. maryjane. marzana. maveth. meek. melanie. melodie. melody. merripen. miel. minuette. mold. moldie. moldy. molly. moonie. moore. morana. morgana. morgue. mors. mort. mot. muriel. murmur. muse. nadine. nadzen. nancy. nanea. nanelle. nanette. nappi. naz. negan. nekane. nelly. nemesis. nettie. nicodème. niegan. nimbus. nina. nuri. olive. oliver. olivia. omega. panchaali. parner. pinkesse. pinkette. pinkie. pinky. pinocchio. pippin. poe. poppet. poppette. poppy. porce. porcelain. porcelynn. prantika. pulau. punthali. pupetta. puppet. puppetear. puppetesse. puppetette. puppette. puppyte. putala. quinn. ravanche. raven. realiteer. rebel. ribbon. ribbonne. riley. rion. robert. rose. rubella. ruby. sacrifette. salem. sasha. satin. scarlet. sebastian. sew. sewine. shivani. shiver. sidney. smierc. smiley. smilie. softesse. softette. softie. solikha. spirit. sprout. statuette. stitches. strings. sweeheart. sweetheart. sweetie. sweetiebelle. sweetine. sychar. teacup. tearie. teddy. tempest. thalia. than. thana. theodora. thorn. trembelle. trista. ultima. ulysses. vanessa. vera. viola. visage. whisp. whisper. willow. winston. wisp. wispera. wrathes. zizi.

PRONOUNS ⌇ adorable/adorable. ae/aer. angel/angel. anger/anger. antique/antique. app/apparition. bell/bell. berry/berry. berserk/berserk. bjd/bjd. bla/black. blank/blank. bliding/bliding. blue/blue. blush/blush. bug/bug. button/button. cake/cake. car/carcasse. cheer/cheer. cloth/cloth. coffin/coffin. control/control. coo/croon. cor/cor. cor/corrupt. core/core. corpse/corpse. coy/coy. crack/cracked. cracked/cracked. cre/creepy. creep/creepy. cu/curse. cu/cute. curse/curse. cute/cute. da/dark. de4/de4d. de/dear. de/demure. dea/dead. dead/dead. dead/death. dear/dear. death/death. decay/decay. delica/delicate. delicate/delicate. demon/demon. despair/despair. dirt/dirty. do/doll. doll/doll. doll/dolly. dolly/dolly. dread/dread. dress/dressup. dress/up. d♡ll/d♡ll. eer/eeerie. elegant/elegant. en/energy. end/end. evil/evil. eye/eye. fabric/fabric. fae/fae. fi/figure. fig/figure. figurine/figurine. flower/flower. fragile/fragile. frail/frail. friendly/friendly. frill/frill. fury/fury. gho/ghost. glass/glass. glo/gloomy. gore/gore. grave/grave. grief/grief. grim/grimm. grime/grime. gru/grudge. ha/haunt. happy/happy. haun/haunt. hx/hxm. h♡/h♡m. it/it. joint/joint. joint/jointed. joy/joy. ke/ker. kew/kewpie. kill/kill. kor/kor. kor/korrupt. la/lace. lace/lace. lae/lace. lo/love. lo/loved. lolita/lolita. love/love. mad/mad. mae/mae. mari/marionette. marionette/marionette. me/meek. mi/mier. mim/mimic. model/model. morbid/morbid. mu/mutter. mur/murmur. nap/nap. null/null. ny/nym. patch/patch. phan/phantom. pink/pink. pitter/patter. plastic/plastic. play/play. play/playtime. play/time. plush/plush. plush/plushie. por/porcelain. porce/porcelain. porcel/porcelain. porcela/porcelain. porcelain/porcelain. pose/pose. pose/posed. possess/possessed. pup/puppet. puppet/puppet. rea/reality. rest/rest. reven/revenge. rib/ribbon. ribbon/ribbon. rot/rot. scare/scare. scary/scary. seem/seem. sew/sew. sew/sewn. shi/shift. shi/shiver. shx/hxr. sh♡/h♡r. sie/sier. silk/silk. slee/sleep. sleep/sleep. smile/smile. snap/snapped. sneak/sneak. soft/soft. sou/soul. spi/spider. spi/spirit. spo/spook. spook/spook. sta/stalk. sta/stare. statue/statue. sti/string. stitch/stitch. string/string. sweet/heart. sweet/sweet. sweet/sweetdolls sweetie/sweetie. ta/tap. te/teer. tea/teatime. teeth/teeth. thre/thread. thread/thread. thxy/thxm. th♡y/th♡m. ti/timid. to/toy. toy/toy. toy/toytime. trick/trick. un/canny. unca/uncanny. ve/ver. vey/vem. vi/vr. vintage/vintage. vomit/vomit. wan/wander. watch/watch. whi/whisper. white/white. wilt/wilt. wood/wood. wrath/wrath. yarn/yarn. zzz/zzz. ♡/♡. ⚰️ . 🍨 . 🛌 . 🛏️ . 🥀 . 🧸 .

[unsoundedcomic]

Whumptober 2024 - 15 - "Childhood Trauma"

Will Argenti leaned in close, to be heard above the chatter of the busy tea house. "Do you ever dream about it?"

He sounded sad, uncertain. Mikaila wasn't so very much in the correct temper for sad uncertainty. "Look," she answered instead, grinning and pointing through the crowd. Her friend Genevieve was trying to balance four little plates of green tart, two in each hand. "Genny!" Mikaila called, "Genny, you're listing starboard! Ah! There you are, perfect! Upright! Upright! Impeccable! You're almost here-! Will, no!"

Will had moved to vacate his seat and help her, but Mikaila held him fast by the arm. "There is Mr Farold," she whispered, gesturing to a red-faced Soud scolding two Soud waitresses near the dessert case, "We need him to see her excellent balance and coolness under pressure. Genevieve is questing for employment here in the spring, while her Tomas ventures to Grettaerin on an errand for the family. Her father said she can wait for him if she brings in some coin while he is gone. Is that not the most romantic thing?"

"I don't want Genevieve serving here," Will groused, "She hates me and she'll skimp on pours."

"Genny is a perfect doll," Mikaila protested, "If she doesn't like you there is some good reason for it."

"I might have called Tomas a cocksucker once."

Mikaila's hand flew to her lips but the laugh was too fast for her, and spilled out everywhere. Will would never use such language with the other girls. But those were other girls. "What did Tomas do to you?" she asked merrily. Will shrugged a shoulder and started emptying his pipe into a drained tea glass.

"He was spelling his boots clean and I didn't like the way he asked me why mine were so muddied. He knew why. Cocksucker."

Mikaila exhaled through her teeth, one eye still on Genevieve's cake walk. "Is it growing worse, old bean?"

"I don't like pymary, is all," Will answered without answering, "I don't like it. You can tutor me until the silver's gone out my hair and into yours, but I'll never like it."

Mikaila didn't doubt it. She'd learned it was her good friend's heart and her good friend's memories that were in the way of her good friend's spellcraft. There was otherwise no reason why a young Silver gentleman with William Argenti's prospects had such difficulties conversing with the khert. "You think about it too much," she diagnosed, quieter, "I see it come upon you, when you cast. You tremble like the last… like the last bead of water, hanging to the kettle spout. You're so afraid of… what? Falling? Failing?"

Some guttural grunt hunched in Will's throat. He looked away. "I'm not bloody afraid. I just don't like it."

Wisely, Mikaila did not press the point. Genevieve had been stopped by Mr Farold. Some earnest conversation was happening there, but still the tart plates wobbled. How might Mikaila salvage them if they started to tip? So delicate, the motions so erratic. Her palms burned as she thoughtfully licked her lips and considered Momentum reversals. Oh, Ssael, would it be worse if Genny lost a plate or two or if four tarts catapulted up splat! against the ceiling?

Will watched her intently. Then, again, he asked: "Do you dream about it?"

"Hmm?" She jiggled her head a little as though dislodging a fly. "Sometimes. Less and less. But then I wake up, and it is today. The sun is high, there are new things to learn, and everyone I love is here and safe."

"Not everyone."

Mikaila's attention did not stray from Genevieve and her four plates.

"You remember him better than I do, Will. Don't think me wicked, but I'm happy to forget. Papa says memories are heavy, but we're the only ones stopping ourselves from setting them down."

"That doesn't make sense." Anger darkened Will's eyes to the colour of a storm's belly, and he scowled down at his weed pouch. Half his pinch was spilled to the tabletop. He gathered it up, tried to mash the moist strands together, but his hard wooden fingers were not well suited to the delicate work.

"How does it not make sense?" Mikaila asked gently.

"I was even younger than you when that monster- that monster ate my arm. But I haven't forgotten any of it. The stink of its mouth. The two-toes' eyes shining in the dark. And knowing that Roger Foi-Hellick was laughing about all of it; near but not near enough to kill him, hiding, laughing." The fingers of his simulacrum fumbled the pinch again. Mikaila touched his false wrist in a wordless gesture. He paused, and she gathered the fragrant strands herself.

"I think what happened to you was far worse," she whispered, pushing the wad into the pipe bowl, "And perhaps you haven't had… all I had. Perhaps it's worse for you now, even still."

"Don't say that. I don't want to hear that dogshit. Forget it, I'm fine. Everything in Durlyne is fine. And I don't dream about anything."

She put the pipe in his hand, closed his clicky false fingers over the stem, and pointedly did not light it with a spell. Will reached instead to his belt for a firestarter. Drag, scratch, flick! and then flame. It was a good smell. The weed caught, smouldered, and that smell was even better. Happier to associate it with Will than with a dead man. A dead man, impossibly tall, hunched over a desk in a messy library, puffing fragrant clouds, singing an old aria to himself while he scratched line after line in a book she was not allowed to read…

"My sincerest and humblest apologies for the wait, madame!" called Genevieve suddenly. Without a sound, a plate of green tart was settled atop the table - very professional! - then slid towards Mikaila, who clapped with showy gusto and appreciation.

And maybe a little pymary. She touched the base of her throat.

"I'VE NEVER EXPERIENCED SUCH EXQUISITE SERVICE!" boomed her voice over the heads of the tea house's clientele. Each one swivelled to face her. "I SHALL BE TELLING ALL OF MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS OF THIS FINE DINING EXPERIENCE."

Genevieve coloured prettily and Mikaila knew without asking that she'd been offered a job. "Thank you, madame! Honourable patron! Respected customer! And this man, is this your servant? Here you are, Silver Boy, some tart for you."

She set the tiniest of the slices in front of Will. A very long and curly blonde hair was draped across it, and the crust was broken. He sighed.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 24 - The Double-Edged Dagger

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s nearly one o’clock in the afternoon when they approach Athebyne, stopping at the orders of the dragon, at a lake closest to the outpost so they can drink. The surface of the lake is smooth as glass, but the grass bordering the lake at the far side from where they stand is trampled, which means they’re not the first riot to rest here. 

There are a total of ten dragons in all with them, and Genevieve only recognizes a few. It’s obvious that she, Liam, and Violet are the only first years in the group though, and for that reason, they all land next to each other on the border of the lake. 

“You need to drink and probably eat something,” Genevieve sighs, stretching her arms up as she prepares to dismount. Seven straight hours in the saddle was killing her, and this time she really was fairing the worst, as Violet and Liam look nearly unaffected. Violet had the opportunity for extra hours in the saddle since the beginning of War Games, but Genevieve was ground-bound for the majority of that time. 

“And you need to sleep,” Train replies. “You’ve been up all night.” 

“This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone all night without sleep and certainly won't be the last.” She shrugged, her shoulder popping with an awful clicking noise. She hap-hazardly slides down his foreleg, Liam catching her midway before easing her to the ground without a word. 

“It’s strange to be beyond the wards,” Genevieve says, nodding a quick thank you at Liam before he heads over to Violet. The entire riot’s dragons are agitated, and Genevieve can feel this wrongness in the air that causes the hair to stand on the back of her neck. 

“We’re twenty minutes out from Athebyne, so hydrate! We have no idea what kind of scenario is waiting for us, so rest up.” Xaden calls out, his voice carrying over the squad as Genevieve goes to where Liam and Violet stood, his hands on her shoulders as if he was gently massaging her. 

“You doing alright?” He asks Genevieve, her own hand on her own shoulder because her shoulders hurt too, even if her boyfriend(?) needed to take care of other things. 

Genevieve just shrugs at his question, firing it back at Violet. “Are you doing alright?” 

“If I say I’m not sure, will you think less of me?” Genevieve would never think less of her for being honest with herself, especially since she was feeling exactly the same. 

“I’d think you’re being honest.” Liam replies, running a hand over her hair. 

Genevieve glances at Xaden, deep in conversation with Garrick. He looks back her way, their eyes locking for a second, and that's all it takes to remind her body that she had him naked above her a few hours ago. She takes a deep breath, masking her face with a base of professionalism. 

“Keep looking at me like that and we’ll be stopped longer than a half hour.” he warns, not even shifting his glance to her. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” His head whips her way, and he actually gives her somewhat of a smile in a somewhat public setting, before turning back toward Garrick. 

“You doing all right with whatever is going on there?” Liam asks, startling Genevieve out of her own thoughts. 

“I think I want to be anywhere else than right here, right now.” Genevieve gives him the most truthful answer she could muster. 

“I’d think you got yourself in over your head.” The look on his face is anything but teasing. 

“For someone who said he owes Xaden everything, that’s not a glowing recommendation.” Fuck, her shoulder hurts so bad. “And I think I might already be dating him so too late, I guess.” 

“You feeling all right?” Xaden asks, and Genevieve groans. 

“My shoulder feels like it might fall off. Can people stop asking me that?” The last thing she wants is to be constantly reminded that something is wrong with her in comparison to everyone else. 

“It’s not that.” Liam grimaces. “It’s just that I know his priorities.” 

“Believe me,” Genevieve counters. “I know them too.” She hasn’t forgotten the fact that he had to ‘find out where her loyalties lie.’ 

Cue eye-roll. 

“I’m really sorry you got dragged along on my account,” Genevieve says quietly so the others won't hear, but Violet does. 

“I, for one, am very glad that you have been dragged along with Genevieve, because I’m always dragged along with Genevieve.” She says, turning around to face him. “Even if I think you should be at one of the midland posts with Dain, not being hauled past the wards. Colonel Aetos is a fair man, but I have no doubt this assignment is meant to ‘give the marked wingleader his due.’” 

“I’m really not scared, no one is hauling me, and believe it or not, Violet, sometimes my orders don’t revolve solely around Genevieve. I do have other skills, you know,” He teases with a grin, flashing a dimple as he hip checks her. 

“I never once forgot how amazing you are, Liam.” She tilts upwards, and Genevieve takes this as her cue to go. 

Genevieve stands on her own, pacing the shore of the lake as Xaden walks away from Garrick, holding out his hand as he approaches. 

Her eyebrows rise. There is no way he’s approaching her with the intention of holding her hand. 

Xadens hand hovers in the air between them, and an unreadable expression on his face. Genevieve hesitates for just a second, unsure if this is some kind of test. Her brows furrow, but she doesn’t reach out. She’s not one for public displays, especially with the entire riot watching. 

“What’s this about?” She asks him, her voice low, trying to read him. She feels the tension in her shoulders deepen. 

He gives her that half-smile again, the one that makes her stomach twist in knots. “Just trust me,” he says, his voice softer than usual, but still with that edge of command she can never ignore. 

Genevieve swallows her doubt and takes his hand. The moment their fingers touch, she feels a slight jolt of energy pass between them—whether from him or from her own nerves, she isn’t sure. He pulls her closer with a smooth, practiced motion, his other hand resting gently on her aching shoulder. 

“Relax,” Xaden says, his voice now a whisper. “I can feel your tension from a mile away.”

“Kind of hard to relax when you’re making a scene,” she mutters, eyes darting around. But, despite herself, she allows him to repeat the motions she was jealously watching Liam play out with Violet. His large hand easing her extremely sore muscles. She notices Violet’s raised eyebrow and Liam’s knowing smirk, but neither of them say a word. 

“None of them are going to say a single word about you—or us. I trust every single person here with my life,” he says, leading her toward a cluster of boulders on the far side of the lake. “Did you get enough to drink? Or eat?” 

“I brought everything I needed in my pack. You don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Worrying about you is ninety-nine percent of what I do.” he watches as the tension slowly dissipates from her shoulders, and her fists unclench. “When we make it to the outpost, I want you to rest after we get our scenario objective. Liam and Violet will stay while I take the third years out to patrol.” 

“I want to help,” She immediately protests. “You brought me because I’m the strongest. I can help.” 

“You can, after you rest up. You have to be at full strength to wield your signet, or you’ll risk burning out.” Genevieve understands what he’s leaving unsaid. She’s been on the cusp of burnout two times, which is two times too many. No way she survives a third. 

She nods, and doesn’t respond. 

“Xaden!” She hears Liam yell, and all of a sudden he spins around so quickly, he’s a blur. Shadows wrap the entire scene, thick as a thundercloud. Genevieve can’t see shit. 

Xaden just grabs her hand, and runs towards where they had heard Liam’s voice. 

“Silly to hide what’s already been seen,” the woman says, her tone curt. “And if rumors are true, there’s only one silver-haired rider in your death factory of a college, which means that’s General Sorrengail’s youngest.” 

“Fuck,” Xaden swears. Violet grips the dagger at her hip, sidestepping out from behind Liam so she can see the scene unfolding in front of her. 

A pair of gryphon riders stands in the meadow about thirty feet away, their beasts eerily silent behind them. They’re about a third of a dragon, but those beaks and claws look just as capable of shredding skin and scale just the same. 

“Tairn!” Genevieve calls out, and she knows Violet has called out for Astrape as well. 

“Coming.” 

“A fucking Sorrengail.” The woman looks only a few years older than them, but she looks like a veteran rider. She arches a dark brow, looking at Violet like she’s something that needs to be shoveled out of the horse stalls. The sound of beating wings fills the air as a handful of dragon riders barrel into the space around them. Bodhi, Imogen, and another third-year with a scarred lip Genevieve vaguely recognize. But no one is reaching for a weapon. 

Thunder crackles in the sky. 

“No!” Liam turns and hauls her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and pinning them to her sides. 

“What are you doing?” She throws her weight against him, but Liam is too strong. 

A gust of wind hits Genevieve’s side as Tairn lands, Astrape following suit. 

“Holy shit, that one is huge,” the woman says. Around Liam’s immovable arm, Violet sees the riders retreat with quick steps, their eyes flying wide as they look up. 

“Just stay here. Stay calm.” Xaden says to Genevieve, his eyes searching hers for an answer to a question she hasn’t asked. Then he nods at Bodhi who plants his hand firmly around her wrist, keeping her in place. 

What the actual fuck is going on?

“Let. Me. Go,” Violet demands as Xaden strides toward the pair of gryphon riders, and Genevieve is in equal shock as Bodhi’s hand keeps her firmly gripped in place. 

Fear squeezes her heart like a vise that he thinks he can take on the gryphons and their riders himself. 

“I’m sorry Violet,” Liam apologizes, his voice lowering. “I really wish I could.” 

Astrape roars from Violet’s right so hard that spit flies, smacking Liam in the face and making her ears ring. Liam drops his hands and backs away, slowly putting his palms up. “Got it. Point made. No touching.” 

Free from Liam’s grip, Violet spins towards the field as Xaden reaches the riders. 

“You’re fucking early,” he says. 

Genevieve’s eyes narrow, each word from his lips hitting her like arrows. She knew he was smuggling weapons, but to gryphon riders? She’s never even seen a gryphon rider before. Dragons usually burn them to ash before a rider can get a good view. 

“What happened to meeting tomorrow? We don’t have a full shipment,” Xaden says to the gryphon rider, his voice calm and even. 

So this is why he wanted her to stay back? So he could go and do an illegal weapons deal without her knowing? She already knew he was smuggling weapons. She already knew. And yet he still needed to hide this? 

“The shipment isn’t the issue,” the woman says, shaking her head. 

Genevieve can practically see the gears in Violet’s head turning, piecing together the fact that these people she had been brought up to believe were traitors were actually a self-fulfilling prophecy of their heritage, a repeating cycle of betrayal. 

“So you were waiting nearby to chat on the off chance that we’d fly by a full day early?” Xaden asks. 

“We were patrolling from Draithus yesterday—it’s about an hour southeast from here—”

“I know where Draithus is,” Xaden retorts. 

“Never know, you Navarrians act like nothing exists beyond your borders,” the male gryphon rider snarks. “I don’t know why we’re bothering to warn them.” 

“Warn us?” Xaden cocks his head to the side. 

“We lost a village in the vicinity to a horde of venin two days ago. They decimated everything.” 

Genevieve’s eyes fly wide open. She just said what?

Violet and her share a glance. Venin. Holy shit.

That wasn’t a figment of her imagination, right? 

“Venin never come this far west,” Imogen says from her left. 

Venin. Oh my gods. Quinn. Oh my gods. There is not enough air in the world for Genevieve to breathe. Her chest heaves with every forceful breath. 

“Until now,” the woman replies, turning her gaze back to Xaden. “They were unmistakably venin and had one of their–”

“Don’t say anything else,” Xaden interrupts. “You know that none of us can know the details or we put everything at risk. All it takes is one of us being interrogated.” 

“Are you getting this?” Genevieve asks Tairn, glancing at Violet to see if anything else is catching the… nonsense spewing from the woman’s mouth, but everyone else looks horrified, like they actually believe that a village was destroyed by venin. But then again, apparently Quinn died by one. 

“Unfortunately, yes.” 

“Details or not, it looks like the horde is heading north,” the male says. “Straight toward our trading post on the border across from your garrison at Athebyne. Are you armed?’ 

“We’re armed.” Xaden admits. 

“Then our job here is done. You’ve been warned,” the male says. “Now we have to go defend our people. As it is, this side trip only gives us about an hour to reach them in time.” 

Instantly, the atmosphere changes. Xaden looks over his shoulder at Violet, briefly passing over Genevieve. His face is set in grim lines. 

“General Hale’s daughter will be easy enough to convince, but if you think you’ll ever convince a Sorrengail to risk their neck for anyone outside their own borders, then you’re a fool,” the man says with a sneer in her direction. 

The man leans down slightly and looks Violet up and down in obvious judgment. “I wonder what your king would be willing to pay in order to get back the daughter of his illustrious general. I’m willing to bet your ransom would be worth enough weapons to defend all of Draithus for a decade.” 

Astrape snarls. 

“Fuck,” Bodhi mutters, his grip tightening closer on Genevieve. 

“Step away from her,” Genevieve hisses, her vines creeping up the man’s legs, thorns pricking his skin. 

Shadows race menacingly from the pine trees on the edge of the meadow as Xaden raises his hands at his sides, and both gryphon riders tense when the darkness pauses only inches from their feet. “You take a step towards either of them and you'll be dead before you can even shift your weight,” Xaden says, his voice dropping lethally. He glances at Genevieve. “The Sorrengail is not up for discussion.” 

The woman glances from the shadows to the vines, then sighs. “We’ll be there with the rest of our drift. Just signal if you can get away from the disbelievers.” she walks away, leading the man back toward their gryphons. They mount, and launch skyward. 

The entire group is silent, shifting between Genevieve and Violet. 

“Good luck, Riorson.” Imogen tucks a piece of her pink hair behind her ear as they all slowly follow Imogen back toward the lake. It’s just Liam, Violet, Xaden, Bodhi, and Genevieve left. 

“Tairn.” She keeps her breathing steady, her emotions masked. 

“Little soldier?” His giant head swivels in her direction. 

“Venin. They’re real.” She tells him. “And everyone here knew.” 

“Yes, they did.” He agrees, resignation in his tone. 

“You knew all along.”  She practically spits mentally. “You knew that Quinn died from a Venin and didn't tell me that they’re actually real? That the report I found was true?”

“I chose you for a reason.” 

Genevieve’s breath comes fast, a whirwind of fury and anguish brewing in her chest. Her gaze flickers between Xaden and Tairn, desperation mingling with disbelief. Everyone knew. Everyone except her. 

“But you knew.” Her voice breaks, trembling as she forces the word down Tairn’s pathway. Genevieve doesn’t dare meet Liam’s pitying gaze or acknowledge the unspoken apology written on his face. She doesn’t dare look at Violet, whose own betrayed face mirrors her for all different reasons. Her eyes are locked on Tairn instead, pleading for something—understanding, maybe. But the dragon’s cold, unyielding stare remains fixed straight ahead, his silent fury coiling tightly as if debating whether to incinerate Xaden on the spot. 

“Dragons are bound by bods,” Train says, his voice steady, but Genevieve hears the tension, the weariness beneath it. “There is only one other bond more sacred than that of a dragon and its rider.”

A dragon and its mate. Everyone knew but her. Her stomach churns violently. Everyone knew that venin are real, Genevieve made the stupid decision of approaching the one other person kept in the dark when everyone else knew. 

Vines explode from the earth without warning, surging towards Xaden. 

“Tell me, Riorson,” Genevieve says, her voice a poisoned whisper. Her entire body shakes, barely containing the rage that’s been building in her since the moment she realized she was the only one who didn’t know. “How did Quinn die?” 

Xaden’s eyes flicker to the vines that are now creeping toward him, but he doesn’t flinch. 

“Oh shit.” Bodhi mutters, his hands coming up to grip his neck, watching the inevitable storm unfold before them. 

“Gen, let me explain–” Xaden takes a step forward, but his movement is cut short as the vines twist up his legs, thick, black tendrils tightening around him like chains, squeezing his arms until he’s bound. 

Genevieve doesn’t blink. Her voice is sharp as a blad when she hisses, “If you take another step toward me, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.” 

“I think she means it,” Liam warns, his voice tight with tension. 

Xaden’s eyes darken, his jaw clenching, but there’s no fear in him. “I know she does.” His gaze locks with hers. “Everybody back to the shore. Now.”

He tries to move, tries to come closer, but the vines only grow tighter, feeding on the fury that’s coursing through Genevieve’s veins. 

“I know what you’re thinking—” Xaden starts, but Genevieve cuts him off. 

“No, you don’t!” Her voice cracks, a sharp edge of panic lacing through her fury. A tree behind her shatters, black flowers blooming in the wake of her raw power. “How did Quinn die, Xaden? How?! Because Violet told me venin weren’t real. Violet lied to me. Everyone lied to me.” 

“They are real,” Xaden admits softly, the weight of the truth dragging him down. 

Genevieve laughs bitterly, the sound so hollow it hurts him to hear. “Oh, great. Perfect. Then tell me, how did Quinn die? Stop dodging the question.” 

Xaden’s face hardens, shadows coiling around him like a second skin as the vines press tighter, drawing the first beads of blood from his flesh. But she doesn’t care. She’s too far gone for pity now.

“You know how Quinn died, Gen,” Xaden says, his voice a low growl. “It was during War Games my first year. It was a stupid, senseless fight, a petty—”

“Don’t give me that shit!” Genevieve snaps, her voice rising as her fury boils over. Flowers bloom underneath her feet, climbing up her as if they could protect her from the man standing across from her. “Don’t lie to me! You had her dagger, Xaden! You were there! You knew venin were real all along! You knew Quinn was killed by one, and you didn’t say anything! You let me believe—”

Her voice cracks, her pain growing too much to contain anymore. “I had to ask Violet how my own sister died, Xaden. Violet. A Sorrengail. She probably knew, too. Am I the only one who was left in the dark? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I couldn’t tell you,” Xaden growls, the vines tightening as his muscles flex, struggling against them. “You were being interrogated by General Sorrengail every other week. You could have—”

“I didn’t tell her when I found out you were smuggling weapons out of Basgiath, did I?” She snarks, her tone venomous as she throws it back in his face. 

Violet steps forward, her expression darkening with her own fury. “Believe me, Genevieve, I didn’t know either.” She hisses, her voice low, simmering with anger of her own as thunder crashes above them. “Did you ever actually love me?” Tears brim in her eyes as she snaps at Liam. 

Genevieve’s hands shake as her power surges, the ground trembling beneath her feet. “I’m going to kill you, Xaden.” her voice is hollow now, the emotioned drained as her eyes narrow. “Tell me how Quinn died, or I swear to the gods, I’ll end this right here, right now. I have all the time in the world.” 

And as the air between them crackles with tension, Xaden watches her—this girl who just moments ago was wrapped in his arms—transformed into someone he barely recognizes, consumed by grief and rage. He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, she means every word. 

Genevieve’s entire body trembles as her back presses up against Violet, and it feels like it's them against everyone else around them. Her pulse pounds in her ears, the hurt and betrayal bubbling up into a frantic crescendo she can barely contain. The vines that snake around Xaden pulse with her fury, but she can’t find it in herself to tighten them any closer, hurting him any further. 

“But you knew,” she chokes, her voice raw, desperate. “You knew and you let me walk around in the dark, while my sister—” She stumbles, the words getting caught in her throat. “Quinn was out there fighting venin, and you—you just watched her die, didn’t you.” 

Xaden, even under the crushing weight of the vines, keeps his gaze locked on her, regret flashing in his dark eyes. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough. He tries to speak, but she cuts him off, the air crackling with her power, with her pain. 

“And don’t you dare look at me like that,” Genevieve spits, her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. “Like you’re the one hurting here! Like you’re the victim! I’m the one who lost her sister. I’m the one who was lied to!” The air around her warps with her anguish, black petals scattering into the wind as more vines shoot from the earth. “I lied for you. I protected you. I kept your secrets—” she’s at a loss for half of a breath. “I loved you, Xaden.” 

“Love!” he shouts, and Genevieve takes a step back, using her body to shield Violet from him as if his words could penetrate through her and hit someone she so desperately wanted to hide from all of this. “You love me.” 

“I should’ve known,” she whispers, her voice cold and empty, void of anything but the bitter sting of betrayal. “Once a traitor, always a traitor.” 

“Then what does that make you?” He fires back. 

“I’m a traitor to myself!” Genevieve yells, her fist clenched so tightly it draws blood. 

Liam takes a step forward, his arm outstretched as if he wants to pull Violet into a hug and whisper that everything would be all right, and that this was all a dream. 

“If you dare to even try to touch my Sorrengail, I’ll snap your head clear off your neck, Mairi.” 

Genevieve’s heart slams in her chest as her own words echo back at her. My Sorrengail. Her voice cracks under the pressure of it, and she feels a fresh wave of anger and self-loathing crash over her. When had she become so weak? When had she allowed herself to care this deeply, this stupidly, for Violet? For Xaden?

Betrayal laces every corner of her mind, but it’s not just directed at him anymore—it’s directed inward. How could I have let this happen? Her fists are bleeding and red, but no amount of pain seems to be enough to drown out the overwhelming sense of failure. She had prided herself on being strong, on keeping herself closed off, untouchable. But Xaden had slipped past her defenses. He had made her believe there was something more, something worth holding onto. And Violet had wormed her way into Genevieve’s heart so deeply, that even now, in the midst of this storm, all she wanted to do was shield her from the hurt. 

“I betrayed myself,” Genevieve’s chest tightens at her own admission, the words hanging in the air like she’s driven a knife through her own heart. The true implications of her own feelings bear down on her, crushing her spirit even as her rage surges. 

Her heart screams at her that this is wrong. That after everything, Violet should be the first person she should kick to the curb and that she should run into Xaden’s arms, and relish in the fact that her father didn’t die without cause, and the rebellion was alive. But Genevieve can’t help it. This weird, intertwining connection has grown like a vine between her and Violet, twisting itself into every part of her being until she doesn’t know where she ends and Violet begins. 

A sob catches in her throat, but she chokes it down, burying it beneath the raw fury that still burns in her veins. She focuses on Xaden, the man who had once held her heart in his hands but had crushed it instead of protected it. The man who had known all along and said nothing, who had watched her stumble blindly in the darkness left in her sister’s death. 

“I should’ve never let you in. I should’ve never let either of you in.” She repeats, her grip on Violet’s wrist ever tight, as even in repenting her sins of loving the harbinger of her pain’s daughter she can’t let her go. 

Her eyes fall back on Xaden. 

“I would’ve done anything for you had you just told me instead of lying to my face,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible as she meets his gaze. “And maybe that’s my biggest betrayal of all.” 

The vines fall back from Xaden’s body, but Genevieve’s eyes remain tense, focused.

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Her voice is low, a soft whisper that floats in the air like the snowflakes that had once fallen between them when the only emotion she harbored towards him was lust. “Tell me how Quinn died.” 

—--------------------------------------------

When Xaden Riorson was a first year, the Wingleader of Fourth Wing was a 23 year old girl named Quinn Hale. Quinn, unlike Xaden, didn’t have a rebellion relic, but like Xaden, was the daughter of a leader of the Tyrrish Rebellion. When he first crossed the parapet, she took one look at him, and immediately took him under her wing. 

Quinn knew everything about everyone. She was a genius, and her signet, Truth-Sayer, made her a force to be reckoned with. She was practically unstoppable, and Xaden thought she was the coolest person alive. 

She had the uncanny ability to read people, picking up on their fears, desires, and motivations with unnerving precision. It was a trait that made her a fierce leader but also kept people at a cautious distance. 

To Xaden—Quinn was a mentor, but she was also a symbol of strength and survival—someone who had faced the same scars as he did but found a way to lead without being consumed by them. There were moments when he saw a flash of something else in her—sadness, perhaps even regret—but those moments were fleeting, gone as soon as they appeared. 

It wasn’t until midway through the year that Xaden learned the full extent of Quinn’s burdens. She wasn’t just the Wingleader because of her skill and power, but because she had borne the brunt of the academy’s hidden cost. Quinn Hale had crunched the numbers, done the math, and been to the border enough times to know something else was going on beyond the wards. 

Quinn Hale was the first rider cadet to know about Venin. 

But she never said a single word to anyone—except Xaden. 

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the training grounds, Xaden found himself alone with Quinn on the roof, a habit he had learned to form ever since Quinn had started to train him. The air was thick with the tensions she had, and he could sense that there was something weighing heavily on her. 

“Xaden,” she began, her voice low, almost hesitant. “You know there are things we don’t talk about here, things we pretend don’t exist.” She turned her gaze to the distant mountains, the ones in the direction of Aretia. “But I can’t pretend anymore.” 

He swallowed hard, the gravity of her words pressing down on him. 

“What do you mean?” 

Quinn hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her embellished dagger. “The rebellion isn’t dead,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “The rebellion isn’t dead and there are Venin on the borders.”

Xaden froze at her words, his mind racing. Venin. Venin were scary stories his father used to tell him when he wouldn’t eat his vegetables, they were myths, boogeymen meant to scare young children. He had been sheltered from the rebellion as a teenager, kept at arm's length until it had forced him to grow up too fast. But now Quinn Hale was telling him everything his father had told him was all real, and still alive. 

“You’ve seen them?” he asked, his voice tight with disbelief. 

Quinn nodded, her face set in a grim line. “I’ve seen enough. I’ve been to the border, past farther than the wards and back in Aretia. I’ve watched the way soldiers disappear, how some of them come back changed. And I’ve felt it.” she placed a hand on her chest, as if she could feel the truth of it inside her. “My signet, it doesn’t just reveal lies, Xaden. It forces people to tell the truth, it reveals everything—things people don’t even know they’re hiding from themselves. And the truth is, the rebellion never ceased. I’ve been talking with them… about you.” 

Xaden’s throat tightened. He had always seen Quinn as unshakable, invisible even. But now, looking at her, he saw the burdens. He wanted to ask why she hadn’t told anyone—why she was confiding in him now. But he already knew the answer. The academy wasn’t a place of trust. Even here, among their own, people could be watching, listening. No one was truly safe. 

“Why tell me?” he asked, his voice quieter, laced with caution he hadn’t felt before. 

Quinn met his eyes, and for a moment, the mask she wore for everyone else slipped. There was fear there—real, tangible fear. “Because I see the same fight in you that I see in myself. You’re not here just to survive, Xaden. You want more than that. You want to win.” She paused, her jaw clenching. “And because the leadership knows that I know what I know, they’re going to kill me. Someone needs to fill my footsteps and you need—”

“Don’t say that,” Xaden interrupted, his heart pounding. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.” 

But she shook her head, her expression hardening again. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that.” She turned away, looking back out at the mountain range they had once called home. “There are things in this world bigger than you and me. Bigger than all of us. And if I die, someone needs to replace me. That someone is you.” 

And Quinn was right. 

In the next few months, she narrowly dodged death in Squad Battle, challenges, and patrols time and time again. Until she could no longer run anymore. War Games had come to end her. 

Quinn Hale’s death was swift, sudden, and brutal. 

Xaden had seen the signs—the quiet glances she exchanged with her closest friends, the exhaustion that seemed to dampen her once indomitable presence, the way her voice had lost some of its earlier fire when she commanded. She was still brilliant, still a force to be reckoned with, but something inside her had shifted after that conversation on the rooftop. Quinn had made peace with her fate long before it arrived, and made due to tie up her loose ends, and that acceptance had made her reckless. 

It was the last battle of War Games when it happened. 

The sky was choked with the dust of battle, the clash of dragons echoing in the distance. Fourth Wing was locked in an intense skirmish with Third Wing on the border of the barrens when Quinn, Xaden, Garrick, and two other third years that Quinn were close with were separated from the rest of the wing. 

Everything was chaos, as it always was during War Games, but Xaden had his eyes on Quinn. He watched her, his heart pounding in his chest as her dragon soared above the battlefield, flames licking the edges of her enemy’s wings. 

And then—out of the corner of his eyes—a shadow moved. 

Venin. 

Xaden’s breath caught in his throat as the dark figure emerged from the shadows, moving with impossible speed through the battlefield. The Venin—a creature that he could have never imagined to be real not even six years ago—was real, and it was headed straight for Quinn. 

He shouted, his voice lost in the cacophony of battle, as Quinn’s dragon banked sharply, unaware of the danger that loomed beneath. In that moment, Xaden’s mind raced. He was not weak, not by any means, but he was a first year, and there’s only so much you can do with so little experience. He could barely comprehend the raw power emanating from the creature—its presence alone was suffocating, a twisted darkness that made the air feel thick and impossible to breathe. The venin’s form was monstrous, vaguely humanoid but distorted, its red eyes glowing with a sickening light. 

Quinn didn’t notice until it was too late. 

Her dragon couldn’t react fast enough. The Venin raised its hand, dark energy coiling around its fingers, and in an instant, it unleashed a devastating blast. Ilona screamed, her wings faltering as the dark magic struck her, sending her crashing into the ground. 

Quinn was thrown from her seat, her body twisting in the air as she fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Xaden’s heart dropped as he watched her struggle to stand, blood trailing from a gash on her forehead. He urged Sgaeyl to dive, to get her before the Venin could strike again, but they were too far. 

The Venin advanced on Quinn, its movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring the moment. Xaden shouted her name again, but Quinn didn’t turn. She was already pulling herself to her feet, blood dripping from a gash in her head. Even in her weakened state, she looked defiant. She raised her hand, and her dragon blew flames in a constant, focused stream. 

It erupted from the dragon like a shockwave, the fire slamming into the Venin. For a moment, it stumbled, its form flickering as the potential fragility of its existence was laid out bare. But it wasn’t enough. The venin recovered quickly as if it was never even touched, snarling as it pressed forward. The dragon fire was potent, but the flames were not enough. It couldn’t destroy the creature. 

Xaden reached for his sword, his dragon pushing harder toward the ground, but he knew—he knew they weren’t going to make it in time. 

Quinn’s eyes met his from across the battlefield, and in that split second, Xaden saw everything she’d been hiding. The fear, the regret, the knowledge that this was how it ended. She had been right all along. She had known this was coming. 

With a final cry, Quinn drew her dagger and rushed at the Venin. It was a suicide charge, and she knew it, but she didn’t hesitate. 

The Venin struck first. 

It's dark energy wrapped around her, and for the briefest moment, Quinn’s body went rigid. She gasped, her eyes wide with shock and pain as her body separated from the life of the earth, and then—just as quickly—she collapsed. The Venin withdrew its power, leaving Quinn crumpled on the ground. 

Xaden’s scream ripped through the air as Sgaeyl finally reached the ground. He leaped from her back, rushing to where Quinn lay motionless, his heart pounded in his chest, every muscle screaming for him to move faster. 

But when he reached her, he knew. 

Quinn Hale was gone. 

Xaden fell to his knees beside her, his breath ragged as he gently turned her over. Her eyes were still open, staring blankly at the sky, and her lips were parted as if she had been about to say something. His hands shook as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his chest tight with grief and rage. 

He had lost her. The one person who looked at him like he was someone beyond Fen Riorson’s son. 

The Venin was gone, disappearing as quickly as it had arrived, leaving nothing but death in its wake. 

Quinn Hale, the unstoppable Wingleader, the genius, the one person who had understood him—who had seen something in him—was dead.

Xaden clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as the weight of it all crashed over him. His mentor, his friend, the woman who had believed in him when no one else had—she was gone. And the leadership, the ones she had warned him about, had allowed it to happen. They had known. 

The rebellion wasn’t dead. And now, neither was his resolve. 

As he stood, the battle still raging around him, Xaden’s eye caught the hilt of her dagger, half buried in the dirt. 

His fingers curled around the hilt of Quinn’s danger, red rubies and vines grounding him in the chaos. The metal was cool, dead, as if it had forgotten every moment she had fought and survived. But now, it was just a reminder of everything that had been taken from him. From them. 

The rebellion wasn’t dead. 

Her words echoed in his mind, louder now in the face of her absence, an undeniable truth that settled into his bones. He’d watched her lead, seen her fight, and witnessed her determination to carry a burden no one else understood. She had taken him under her wing because she knew—she saw—the rebellion wasn’t over. She had been preparing him to carry it forward. 

And now, it was his. 

Xaden’s heart pounded in his chest as he rose to his feet, Quinn’s dagger clenched tightly in his fist. The rebellion wasn’t just an idea, or a legacy tied to his father’s name. It was living, breathing, and it was his now. He had been standing on the sidelines, fighting to survive. But survival wasn’t enough anymore. He understood what Quinn had seen in him: the hunger, the anger, the need for justice. She had given him the tools to carry on the fight. 

The rebellion was his. 

He could feel it in the way the world shifted beneath him, in the way the air thickened with the promise of something darker and more dangerous than anyone could fathom. The leadership had known about the Venin, had known about the dangers, and sent Quinn to her death. They had let them all believe they were safe, and that the threat was gryphons, when the real threat was so much worse. 

Xaden’s grip tightened around the dagger as he turned his gaze toward the battlefield, toward the chaos Quinn had left behind. He would finish what she had started. What his father had started. Not for vengeance, but for the truth. For the rebellion. For the future that she had fought for. 

He mounted Sgaeyl, the weight of Quinn’s loss heavy on his shoulders, but the fire in his chest burned brighter than ever. 

The rebellion was his now. And he would burn the world down before he let it die again. 

---------------

Hey everyone!! Chapter 24 finally brings the real drama (genevieve 'hating' xaden because lets be for real she doesn't hate him lol)! this was a fun chapter, in my opinion at least, so I hope you all liked it.

Also, what do we think about Quinn's backstory? I would just like to point out that the only reason Genevieve and Xaden really met in the first place all the way back in like chapter 2-3 is because Xaden got into the habit of watching the sunrise on the roof from Quinn (sobbing).

i did some pretty cool things this week - last sunday I saw seventeen, and then i got accepted into a uni on monday, then did halloween on thursday and went to a wave to earth concert yesterday, so not much writing, but I will be back on my grind writing book two this week!

anyways, if you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, or kudo, and I'll see you all on wednesday!!

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Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97

[kickingitwithkirk]

Paschal Moon

Summary: Jensen finds crossing the tracks isn’t always a bad thing

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Astronomer!Reader

WC: 2358

Warnings: some angst, really bad punning(sorry) divorce, cheating, innuendos, cursing, reader says shit like I do IRL 😅

A/N: 10/24-I’ve fixed the grammatical errors and expanded this part, cause you know me, I can be chatty and I've written a sequel!

Square Filled: @winchesterandbeyondbingo -midnight @spnmixedbingo -secret dating @spnaubingo -wet dream @j3bingo -camping @howbadcanitbebingo -cliche galore

*Moldavite

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*no Beta-all mistakes are mine

*photos found online

It was Thursday night, and once again, Jensen found himself the proverbial third wheel. The Padalecki’s meant well, dragging him everywhere with them since he filed for divorce, wanting to keep him from brooding with a bottle when not with his kids.

And it wasn’t that Jensen didn’t mind socializing. It was knowing the evening would be filled with repetitive I’m sorry, and the look of sympathy that sent him straight to the open bar first for many a shot nowadays. 

Feeling the slight buzz he needed kicking in, Jensen put on his game face and, with another tumbler of liquid courage in hand, made the rounds, chatting amicably with various groups and catching up with old friends.

Things were going pretty well until some dumb fuck turned to Genevieve, loudly blurting they’d heard Danneel making the rounds with guys with more sizable assets was the reason for the divorce pissed off her moose-sized husband, who bellows shut your unprepossessing cake hole causes a momentary distraction allowing Jensen to escape out a nearby door before punching the sonuvabitch with the double entendre himself. 

Slamming it shut, he stomped to the riverside view, wrapping both hands around the horizontal guardrail and squeezing like he was wringing a chicken's neck when the simultaneous swish of fabric and a hand holding half a glass of liquid appeared.

“Looks like you could use this more than me.” 

Jensen’s eyes met those of the tall drink of water he’d noticed throughout the evening. Looking at the glass again made her laugh, “I’m not slipping you a Mickey.” Lifting it to her lips, he watched her throat ungulate as she drank and felt Jen Jr. rising to attention. “See, Peaches, I’m not some crazy stalker.” 

Jensen takes the glass and feels a spark when their fingers brush. “Thanks, I wasn’t thinking..that.” Throwing back the rest, he appreciates the liquor's smooth slide down his throat. “It’s been a pretty shitty evening.”

“Preaching to the choir, Peaches! I came ‘cause my second cousin on my mama’s side girl broke up with him, and now I know why.” She bends over and retrieves a bottle, giving Jensen a fantastic view of her breasts artfully showcased in her cocktail dress, and pops up, pointing the bottle at him.

 “That motherfucker thought he could pimp me out for a promotion! What the hell is it with people having a ring on it?” She grabs his left wrist, tilting it so the outdoor lights glint off the wedding band he hasn’t removed yet, “Acting like this means absofuckinglutely nothing?”

“Now you’re preaching to the choir. My soon-to-be ex was doing that while I was working in Vancouver and telling everyone it’s because I’m lacking.” Jensen couldn’t stop self-dissing since catching Danneel and one of his closest friends together.

“Hoooly shit!  You’re the guy whose wife runs around saying you couldn’t find her clit with a map, GPS, or fucking bullseye paint on it!” Jensen’s eyes widened at her audacity. “Hell, most gals just use a vibrator if they wanna get off that bad. And did you just admit your package is..?” She wiggles her pinky finger while refilling the glass, “Don’t get me wrong, no shame if you know how to use it.” 

She finally noticed his expression slapped a hand over her mouth and mumbled, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry! My mouth doesn’t know how to stop once I get started. Blame it on my upbringing.” Jensen took a drink to cover his humiliation, and a stiffener for no telling what she’d say next asked, “Upbringing?”

Removing her hand reveals a guileless smile: “You know what they say, you can take the girl outta the trailer park.” Bewilderment crossed his face to her self-deprecating response. “Yeah, I’m that relative they always warned you about.”

“Little late with the warning, sweetheart.”

She burst out laughing, and Jensen found himself doing the same.

Later

Jensen couldn’t believe it. 

In his profession, showing unscripted emotions was a sign of weakness many would exploit. Yet, here he was, a forty-three-year-old man usually in control, sitting outback of this building with a woman he’d never met before, who’d upended that control.

She was the distraction he needed before knowing it; he did something he’d never do under normal circumstances, told her everything, and got a response of, “That sucks balls, and not in a good way!”

“Kicker is; she wants alimony.”

“What a gall darn minute. You caught your almost ex doing the beast with two backs, right?” Jensen hums in response. “Peaches, I’m no lawyer, but I’d say that ain’t fucking happening,” She tips the second five-finger discounted bottle over the glass he’d again drained. “And no offense, your ex makes those whores back in Ratchet City look almost pious. Most have the decency not to fuck in your bed.”

Jensen rubbed his face, “I can’t believe I’ve told a stranger about my marital problems.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to unburden yourself to someone you don’t know.”

“I haven’t even told my family or Jared!”

“And Jared is?”

“The guy who has my back no matter what.” She ponders his response for a moment. “That’s probably why. You’re afraid that if he knows what happened, it’ll diminish how he sees you.” Jensen appeared confused. “Guys POV... if I caught my wife fucking around and saying it’s cause I couldn’t keep her satisfied in the sack, I’d not wanna discuss it either. But I know it’s,” wiggles pinky again, “Horseshit.”

“How?”

“You dress left, and I’ve never had an iPhone stand up to say hello.” Jensen struggled to formulate a coherent response. “Ahh, come on, Peaches, you know you’ve given many people wet dreams about the Ackelconda.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Cause you’ve got the juiciest peach of an ass, and I wouldn’t kick you outta bed for eating crackers,” she says, winking at him, but before he responds, they hear a booming, “Jensen!” Jared appears out the side door, walking towards them. “Fuck, man, I’ve been looking all over for you!  We need to get going; it’s almost midnight.”

“Well, pooh, and here I thought I was going to get lucky,” she says as they stand up; a ringing church bell echoes across the river twelve times. “Guess it’s time to leave the ball and head back to the pumpkin patch.” 

Walked past Jared, she nodded and was almost to the open door when Jensen yelled, “Wait!” She paused as he ran over, “You can’t leave this way. I don’t even know your name.” She held out a hand, “Give me your phone.” He unlocked it and noticed her smirk while she was typing. “Give me a ring if you ever cross the tracks, Peaches." 

Both men appreciated her retreating form when Jared asked, “Who was that?” Jensen doesn’t answer until she disappears in the crowded room, then glances at the screen and gets his you’ve got to be kidding face.

“Cinderella.”

****

Weeks later

One afternoon, they were hanging out watching football, and Jared, tired of nagging Jensen about getting back on the horse and calling her, pulled out the big guns, telling him if he was going to act like a girl, maybe he should put on a skirt and call himself Jane.

That irked an inebriated Jensen, who fumbled his phone out of his pocket, pulled up her contact info…and chickened out again, tossing it on the couch. Jared saw her number on the screen and tapped call, knowing he risked getting kneed in the nads. Two rings later, her voice came through the speaker. 

“Peaches, you’re slower than molasses crawling uphill in January giving a girl a holler.” Hearing her voice mellowed Jensen, and they agreed to meet on Friday at a hole-in-the-wall for lunch where he wouldn’t be recognized.

That lunch became dinner. Dinner became bar hopping, and after indulging in one too many, they sneaked into Blue Hole Regional Park, went skinny dipping, and did things that would scare fish. Afterward, she takes him to a Waffle House, somewhere he hadn’t been in years, for a bowl of 4 AM chili.

****

Monday morning, coffeeholic Jensen grumpily fumbles around the shoebox-sized kitchen in her hundred-year-old farmhouse, searching for a mug while waiting on an aged percolator to finish.

Bending over to look in the dishwasher, he discovers one with a rainbow-maned unicorn flipping the bird, saying, I Run On Caffeine Sarcasm & Cuss Words.  Straightening up, Jensen bangs his head on an overhanging cabinet and finds the last two words apropos. Finally brewed, Jensen steps out onto the shady front porch, sipping on the dark roast, and sits in one of the old rockers, contemplating if he’s having a midlife crisis.

They were barely acquainted twenty-four hours before they got together, in the biblical sense. He heard Dean's gravelly voice telling him to stop being a dumbass, that he deserved this after the shellacking Danneel delivered the last few months.

What astounds Jensen is that when his heart broke harder than he knew it could, she was the solace he craved, and he began to believe it would mend with her.

Jensen was nervous because tonight was extra special.

A few months back, she bounded into his home excited about an upcoming celestial event and field trip her astronomy class was taking. She really, really wanted him to go, even though they agreed to keep their relationship secret until he’d finalized his divorce. It struck Jensen that it would be the perfect night to do something he’d wanted to do since their first date, so he said yes while mentally making other arrangements for the night.

****

“Peaches, this isn’t the way.”

“We’re not going there sweetheart.”

“I realize that Captain Obvious! What I want to know, wtf?!  Are you trying to get me fired? I have a class...."

“That Dr. Carnegie is graciously covering.”

“Why is..what did you do Jensen?”

“I went to the head of your department,” she groaned, “And inquired if someone else could supervise because I’d planned a special night with my girl.”

“What happened to us keeping on the DL? Carnegie is the biggest blabbermouth! Everyone on the planet’s gonna know about us by morning!”

“My divorce was finalized this morning.”

“WHAT!” she indignantly squawked. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” Jensen bemusedly listened to her ongoing rant, eventually picking up her hand and kissing its back, entwining their fingers as he drove on for another hour to Inks Lake State Park. “Since when do you camp out?” She asks when he pays for an overnight camping permit. “Cause the one time I asked, you gave me stink face at the mention of a tent.”

“Since the day you bounded into my home all excited and asked me to come with you. I wanted to make tonight special.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I sincerely appreciate you compromising your creature comforts for me.” Jensen scratched the back of his head, “Well, it’s not technically camping out. I got an air mattress that fits in the truck bed.”

“I know it’s a yearly thing, so what makes this one so special?” Jensen asked as he gazed up at the moon awash with a vivid pink hue. The question made her lift her head from the telescope’s eyepiece, and an amused expression crossed her features.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson? Or do you want me to paint you like one of those French girls?” Jensen peers down at his unintentional position: one hand tucked behind his head, bowed legs splayed, one knee slightly bent, his other hand lying near the sliver of skin peeking out between his dark henley and well-worn jeans.

 “What makes this one so special?” She walks towards the truck, setting foot on the back bumper, gripping the tailgate, and hopping over it onto the mattress. “It is the moon's proximity to the earth.” She crawls forward, placing her hands on either side of his shoulders and slung a leg over Jensen’s hips, slowly sitting down. “Plus, being ultra-close, the color is so vivid that whatthehellisinyourpants!!”

Jensen quickly sits up, about to grab her waist so she doesn’t hit the sidewall, but she scoots down his legs. “That’d better be a sex toy in your pants and not Peyronie’s disease.” Jensen gave her a bewildered look. “What can I say? I like your cock as is. Curves just right for my pleasure.”

“Your mouth is gonna be the death of me..” “..but what a way to go?”

Jensen flopped on his back, groaning, “This isn’t how I imagined tonight going.” She smiled and crawled back over him, “So let’s pretend we’re on set. I’ve flubbed the scene and do another take.”

“That’s why I love you,” reaching up, Jensen tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “The fact that everything that pops into my head comes flying out of my mouth?” Jensen chuckles at her question. “Yeah, I like you, just as you are.” He reaches into the pocket she sat on, pulls out a box, and opens it, revealing the ring he’d chosen. “And would be the luckiest man alive if you’d marry me.”

Taking her left hand, he slides it on her finger, feeling apprehensive at her silence. It is almost deafening, having never known her without any response. “Getting nervous here, sweetheart,” Jensen says as he sits up. "Look, I know we’ve only been together for a short time. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way to answer right now.”

“What’s the stone?”

“Umm... it’s a Moldavite.” She gets that expression he still isn’t sure what to make of it. “I know it’s not conventional, and if you want to pick something else,” Jensen breaks off, watching her eyes fill with tears.

“You gave me this not ‘cause you’re being cheap. The stone, you knew what the significance of its origin would mean to me.” She cupped his cheek, “You’ve never put on airs with me, never been anything other than yourself. A genuine, caring, funny-as-hell doofus with a beautiful soul and I’m saying yes!”

Paschal Moon 2.0-coming 10/24

SPNTAGS:  @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva @lassie-bird  @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67 @leigh70 @b3autyfuld1sast3r

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @beabutterfly987   @smoothdogsgirl @deans-spinster-witch

[queen-haq]

Fic: Never You, Part 12 (Polin, Rated R)

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 released scenes.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Masterlist (contains links to previous parts and my other stories)

A03 link if that’s more your jam

The next day Penelope waited in the drawing room, anxiously pacing the room. Her eyes scanned over the tea cakes and biscuits placed on the table, noting how delicious they looked. They were some of Colin’s favorites, and she had them prepared in the hopes they would appease him when he arrived. Because if he really was expecting to meet Mama and ask for her hand in marriage, he was in for a disappointment.

Her mind harkened back to his words from last night, still reeling her to the core. How could the sweet and kind Colin she grew up with, the same man she loved so intently, threaten to harm others? It was so beyond the pale she wanted to laugh. And for what purpose, to marry her? It would be one thing if he loved her, then she could understand his desperation, but his feelings for her were not love. It was sheer madness, yet she was supposed to risk her heart, her well-being, her very future and marry him?

The sound of the front door opening snapped her out of her reverie. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, steeling herself. Soon Mr. Thomas entered the room, with Colin following behind him, holding a bouquet of flowers. Like always, her heart thudded in her chest when their eyes met. He looked so tall and divine, his curly coif aching to be brushed, the snug fit of his jacket and trousers drawing attention to his lean, sturdy build. He had shaved this morning, giving him the look of the perfect gentleman. Complete opposite of the rogue he was last night.

“Mister Bridgerton is here to see you, Miss.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thomas. Would you mind closing the door behind you?” Penelope asked.

Most of the household staff, save for Mrs. Varley who was devoted to Mama, were loyal to her and she could always count on them for discretion. Of course Colin didn’t know that, and why his eyebrow quirked up at how unfazed the butler was with her request to be left unchaperoned.

“Yes, Miss Penelope.” Mr. Thomas exited the room, leaving them alone.

Immediately something shifted in Colin, his eyes gleaming with mischief. While he sauntered closer, his gaze languidly drifted down the length of her body, then slowly back up, pausing on the swell of her breasts. She had purposely chosen an old, yellow dress that didn’t highlight her figure like Genevieve’s new creations did, hoping the unflattering color would give him second thoughts about the engagement. However, he seemed oblivious to the atrocious design, instead openly admiring her and causing a heated blush to spread across her face.

Bending down he gave her a kiss on the cheek, pausing right next to her. “You’re stunning.”

The beauty of his face made it impossible for her to think coherently but she reminded herself to snap out of it. “You must be delirious from a lack of sleep,” she replied, taking a step back.

He stepped forward. “And who is responsible for all of my sleepless nights?”

“Certainly not me.”

“Says the woman haunting my thoughts.”

She couldn’t stop herself from teasing him. “Perhaps you need a warm glass of milk before you go to bed.”

“Perhaps I need you instead. So that I can hold you and kiss you.” He inched closer. “And have you ride me until we’re both too exhausted to move.”

Her breath caught in her throat. The intensity in his eyes was so overwhelming she was forced to look away, glancing at the bouquet in his hand. Her mind ruminated over the strangeness of their situation. Last night he was threatening her with blackmail and today he was flirting shamelessly. How was she supposed to compose herself with him constantly altering his behavior in such a manner? She had to find a way to shift focus. “The flowers are lovely.”

“They were meant for your Mama.”

Careful not to make physical contact with him, she took the bouquet from his hands and breathed in their heavenly scent. Distance. That was what she needed. She walked over to the desk and placed them on top. “Unfortunately she doesn’t like white lilies, finds them too plain.”

“I intended to get her yellow ones and then I saw this arrangement in the window. I chose these because I knew you would love them.”

“You should try the tea cakes. They’re delicious.”

“You wouldn’t be attempting to distract me with sweets, would you?” His voice was playful, wanton as he came to a stop directly behind her. “That’s very diabolical of you.”

She turned around to face him. “Says the man blackmailing me into marriage.”

Instead of turning defensive like she expected, he reached past her to pluck a lily from the bouquet and tucked the flower in behind her ear. His fingers trailed down the length of her neck, before settling on the spot where her neck and shoulder met. It was an innocent gesture, a simple hand on bare skin, yet his touch brought with it an onslaught of erotic memories from last night. His mouth on her breasts, gently sucking on her nipples, his fingers thrusting inside her. Suddenly her knees felt like they were about to give way, and the glint in his eyes revealed he was fully aware of her predicament.

“Thank you for the reminder, Pen.” A smug smile masked his lips. “Where is Lady Featherington?”

Pen slid past him, desperate for some physical distance that would give her the reprieve needed to think and breathe. “I sent her to the modiste with my sisters for the afternoon.” She walked to a chair, taking a seat. “There are things we need to discuss.”

His brows snapped together. “You’re hoping to change my mind.”

“I’m trying to make you see sense.” She offered him a seat on the settee that was a respectable distance across from her. “Will you not sit?”

“I prefer not to waste more time arguing.”

“You won’t even have a proper conversation with me yet you want us to get married.” She cast him a pointed glance. “That should tell you something."

He regarded her in silence, mulling over her words. Finally he moved to take the seat she had offered, and proceeded to pat the empty spot next to him. “Join me.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Are you worried you can’t keep your hands to yourself?”

“I’m worried you can’t!” she huffed.

“In that case you shouldn't have worn such an enticing dress." 

"This is the ugliest dress I own."

"Then you must remove it immediately and come sit on my lap." 

The roguish smile on his face was so endearing, her heart skipped a beat. Was this how he flirted with the ladies of the ton? No wonder he was so popular amongst them. But she had to remind herself his charm was dangerous; it made her yearn for dreams that weren’t meant for her. “Can you please stop flirting, Colin? I really need to speak with you.”

Her words seemed to have finally registered. Leaning forward, fingers interlocked in front of him, he focused his full attention on her. “Alright. I’m listening.”

“I don’t understand why you’re forcing this marriage between us. Why does it matter to you?”

Jaw clenched, he considered her words in silence before finally speaking. “Because the thought of not being with you every day is unbearable to me. It’s as simple as that.”

She waited for him to explain further; he didn’t. His eyes, intoxicating in their potency, remained locked on hers as if trying to beckon her closer. And she could feel herself giving in, being swayed towards him. It took all of her inner resolve to break the spell he cast upon her. “But it’s not, Colin. You don’t love me, remember?”

“But I care about you. I want you. You’re the most important person in my life. I will treat you with love, with kindness and respect every day of our lives together, I promise you that.” The emotions in his eyes intensified, transitioning his dark blue eyes to an even darker shade until they were almost black. “Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

“Of course it does.” She swallowed, biting her bottom lip from nervousness. “But what scares me is the future. What happens when you fall in love with someone else? What then? You’ll hate me for not being able to pursue the woman you love and I can not stand the thought of you being unhappy and resenting me for it. Have you considered what that would do to me?”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t intend to fall in love with anyone.”

She scoffed, the resulting noise filled with bitterness. “It's not a conscious choice. It happens when it happens. Just like it did with you and Marina.”

The air was thick with tension while they regarded each other angrily. “Is that why you’re being so stubborn? Because you want to punish me for your cousin?”

“I don’t blame you for loving her. She was beautiful.”

“I don’t know what I felt for her. Maybe it was infatuation, maybe love, I don’t know, but it was a mistake.” Pensive, his gaze fell to the ground. “And I don’t plan to repeat it.”

“But you are, Colin. With me. You’re rushing me into an engagement just like you did with Marina-”

“That’s not what this is!”

A sharp breath caught in her throat when he stood up and marched towards her, his expression volatile. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he reached for her hands and secured them in a tight grip.  

“Marina was what my boyish heart thought it wanted, someone who needed to be saved and give me a sense of purpose. I thought if I could get someone like her to marry me then the world, my family, would finally see me as a man. With you, I have nothing to prove. No one else matters except you and me. Us. Our happiness. And being married to you means holding on to that forever.”

The rational part of her brain recognized his words were meant to be complimentary, but the insecure part of her reacted to what he didn’t say. Was she not someone he was proud of? Someone he wanted to show off to everyone? Perhaps intoxication wasn’t the real reason he had disparaged her to his friends, maybe he truly was embarrassed of her. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“What?” Confusion marked his features. “Where is this coming from?”

“You wanted to show off Marina to everyone, but you don’t feel that way about me. Those are your words.”

“I’m the one convincing you to marry me! Why would I do that if I was ashamed?”

What he said made sense but she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious, remembering how the ton, her own family perceived her.

“You’re warm, and brilliant, and beautiful.” Colin dropped a tender kiss on her left cheek. “Your wit is brazenly sharp.” Right cheek. “Your kindness inspiring.” Tip of her nose. “I’ve always been proud to call you my friend, and I would be prouder to have you as my wife.”

Even though her heart ached at his words, she had difficulty believing him. Would he still feel the same if he were to ever find out about Whistledown?  Probably not. He would despise her, abandon her like Eloise had.

“Look at me, please.”

Reluctantly she met his gaze and found herself breathless at the feelings shining in his wet eyes.

“I do not want to lose you, Penelope. I can not. I will not. That is why you must marry me.”

The ferocity of his words weakened her resolve, making her head spin.

“Do not keep fighting me on this,” he continued. “Because I will do whatever is necessary to make you mine.”

Her eyes searched his face, confused as to how he could go from being tender to malevolent so quickly. “That is not who you are, Colin. You’re not the kind of man who would cause others pain. You are better than that.”

“Not when it comes to you. I have no qualms about hurting others if it means holding on to you.” His voice was calm, his tone assured. “I went to visit your solicitor this morning. We had a conversation about him looking over the paperwork for my new investment in Will’s club. Of course I asked him for references and he was happy to provide me with a list of his top clients.”

She studied him to see if there was any trepidation on his face about ruining an innocent man. There was none. Colin’s gaze was steady. “You’ll contact his clients if I don’t marry you.”

“Yes.”

Last night the darkness in him had been bewildering, first taking her by surprise and then anger. He was so different than the Colin who always wanted to play hero and help others. This was a side of him she didn’t know or understand, and while it still shocked her, there was also a part of her intrigued by this new facet. 

A magnetic force drew them together, his hand encircling the nape of her neck. Her pulse quickened, desire coursing through her veins from the way he stalked her, watching her keenly, his thumb caressing her bottom lip. Caught in his trap, she was his prey, trembling against him whilst still unable to look away.

The same hand that stroked her lip trailed down the length of her neck, then tracing the curve of her breasts. Her breath hitched when his gaze followed the movement of his fingers, devouring her with his eyes.  “You occupy my every thought, Penelope. There is no escaping you.” His other hand curled around the waves in her hair. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He swallowed, using both hands to lower the sleeves of her dress, her stays, until they lay pooled around her waist, freeing her breasts. Goosebumps appeared on her skin, not only from the cool breeze but also the hot vigor with which Colin admired her bosom. “How can you be so beautiful?” he asked breathlessly, mesmerized, before sinking his face into her breasts.

The sound of his satisfied groan elicited an affectionate laugh from her. She raked her fingers through his hair lovingly, stroking the locks for a few minutes before she inched back to look at him. The besotted expression on his face had her feeling coquettish. “I’m glad you shaved.” Removing the lily from behind her ear, she used it to caress his cheeks. “Your beard left quite a few scratches on me last night.”

His forehead furrowed with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

“I enjoyed it.”

His eyes darkened at the unexpected remark. “Who’s the one flirting now, Pen?”

The flower in her hand landed on the ground. Loosening his cravat, she untied the knot and threw the fabric on the floor. “You’re always sharing your wicked thoughts with me. Am I not allowed to do the same?”

His lips parted with anticipation. “And what wicked thoughts would you like to share?"

She took his hand from her breasts and brought it to her lips, slipping his middle finger inside her mouth to suck the digit. Passion burned in his eyes, his expression caught between chaos and ecstasy at what she was doing to him. “What it would be like to kiss you, all of you, and taste you. And I would very much like to feel you inside of me, Colin.”

Her words ignited a fire, sparking an explosion between them.

One second she was seated on the chair, the next he had pulled her to the ground so she was straddling him, her body wrapped around his. His mouth ravished hers, demanding and urgent, and she reciprocated with equal fervor even as a part of her struggled to regain control over the situation. Her heart, her body, every inch of her soul craved him, his touch, aching to feel his naked skin on hers – but she couldn’t, not yet.

She dragged her mouth away from his, desperate for air, desperate to think, heaving, but the momentary respite dissipated as soon he started kissing her breasts, groping them, driving her crazy. “Colin…” she groaned, lolling her head back as he sucked on her skin, his fingers playing with her right nipple.

He didn’t respond, lost in pleasuring her.

“Colin…” she tried again, cupping his face this time so he was forced to look at her.

Panting for air, his eyes bore into her while he tried to catch his breath.

She smoothed her thumb over his cheek. “We can do this without getting married.”

Silence ensued, the sounds of their labored breaths syncing together in unison.

“What do you mean?”

In an effort to cajole him, she brushed his hair. “We don’t have to be married to be intimate with each other.”

He stilled immediately, the color draining from his face. “I’m proposing marriage to you and you’re offering to fuck me instead?”

“It would make things easier, Colin.”

He picked her up and placed her on the ground next to him in one fell swoop, turning away after. As if he could no longer stand to look at her.

“Colin.” She reached for his arm, trying to reason with him. “All I’m saying is-”

When he faced her again, he looked crestfallen. Anguish dimmed his wet eyes, breaking her heart. He was struggling not to lose his composure. “Is the thought of marriage to me so abhorrent to you?” The hurt in his voice was devastating, twisting her insides. “You would rather be my mistress than my wife?”

If he was simply furious, she could cope with it, but he was wounded and suffering because of her, and it filled her with so much guilt she didn’t know what to do. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to deny his words, she couldn’t risk her future by marrying him. “Yes. Because I don’t trust you.”

Tension marked his movements while he got dressed, slipping on the waistcoat and jacket, picking up his cravat from the floor. Instead of storming out, however, he offered his hand to assist her in standing up albeit with contempt in his eyes. She stood up and started fixing her dress back in place only to have him wave her hands away so he could do it for her.

Lips set in a hard line, he finally spoke. “You may not wish to marry me but you will be my wife. I will give you till the end of week to get accustomed to the idea. If you still cannot, be prepared to bid farewell to your solicitor and your maid.”

That was when he stormed out, leaving her watching after him.

To be continued...

A/N - As always, feedback is loved and cherished :)

[thekatebridgerton]

Today on another episode of stories I wish someone would write: Bridgerton flowershop vs tattoo parlour au

I don't know i just thought of an au where Benedict runs a tattoo parlor with Gen Delacroix as a passion project and has overseen the designs for the ink of all his siblings. But with some drama added

Anthony: the most serious of business men, everyone thinks he doesn't have tattoos, because hes so straight laced, but in reality he's got his whole back inked. The tattoo on his back is a very detailed clockwork machinery inside a beehive which he got when Edmund died. The only person outside of his family who's ever seen the tattoo up close outside is Kate Sharma, a woman Anthony has a complicated past with. Kate used to be one of Anthony's business competitors, but after having a falling out with her sister where Anthony was heavily involved, Kate retired from the corporate world and decided to open a Dog Groomer Salon to get her life back on track. 'Sir Newton's Pet Pampering' happens to be right across Bridgerton's Ink and in between Sophie's flower shop and Peneloise bookstore. Anthony finds every excuse he can to visit Benedict and watch Kate from afar, trying to work up the courage to approach her and fix things. Even tho she's under the impression that Anthony ruined her relationship with Edwina on purpose and absolutely hates his guts.

Benedict: with the exception of his siblings he's the artist and Gen is more of the one with the needle, he doesn't ink customers. He's got a very nice tattoo of art supplies intertwined with the Bridgerton family crest all across his chest (a tribute to his family and his lifelong dream), he likes to wear shirts that are slightly open in the front, to give people a peek but also leave them wondering about the full thing. The only person aside from his family that he's ever inked is 'flower shop' Sophie from across the street. He may or may not be totally smitten with her ever since she first came into his business, but she doesn't take him seriously because he's been acting like a wishy washy playboy since meeting her. She's a single mom, who is very secretive about why the father of her little Charlie isn't in the picture and thinks that Benedict is bad news in an ink covered package, but he wants to show her that she's wrong, so wrong, he can help her, now if only she would let him show her that he's not such a bad guy. Then maybe that masquerade tattoo he inked in her shoulder could be joined by a glass slipper

Colin: the consummate travel writer, he's got both arms tatted up with quotes in different languages and artwork of the places he's traveled, and he loves to push up his shirtsleeves to show them off, especially around Penelope. His long time friend who runs the bookstore cafe across the street with his sister. but lately he's been (mooching off) staying with Benedict for a while longer ever since Genevieve let it slip that Penelope might have seen all Colin's tattoos but she's obviously never shown him hers. Now Colin is paranoid about Penelope's secret tattoos, why didn't she tell him? Where did she get inked? Does she have more secrets?. Penelope on the other hand is struggling to hide her secret life as erotic romance writer Lady Whistledown, while she dodges Colin's pursuit and manages the bookstore, as much as she's always wished for his undivided attention, she's not going to show him her tattoos just to satisfy his curiosity. ( Especially not the Quill tattoo she got right below her breast or the matching parchment tattoo she got in the inside of her upper thigh). This, predictably is driving Colin crazy

Eloise: Eloise was never a fan of tattoos like her brothers, sure shes got a small violet in her ankle and a 'Girlboss' and 'Smash the patriarchy' inked in small print around her right wrist. But she's never seen the appeal of huge tattoos... Until Philip the plant guy. Truthfully he's just of one of her bookstore's regulars, who works with Sophie from down the street. And drinks his coffee in El's book cafe, El makes small talk with him on slow mornings but it's not like they're friends ( sometimes he leaves Eloise flowers instead of a tip, but that's a conversation for another day). The thing is that with that nerdy, Frazzled, soccer dad look, Eloise would have never thought that Philip the plant guy was inked all over. Not until she accidentally saw him shirtless when she was over at Ben's. And boy not only is the man ripped, he's got the entire upper part of his body tattooed in plants and flowers, back, front, arms, all the way to his wrists. Now everytime Eloise sees him all she can think about is what he's hiding under all that flannel and her brain blanks out, so much she can't handle a normal conversation with him, not only that, she babbled nervously so much that she somehow ended up volunteering to help him teach his kids how to swim. Now all Eloise can think about is that she just volunteered to be somewhere public, with Phillip in his swimming trunks and children present. Why did things have to get so complicated?? He's Philip the plant guy! She's not supposed to like him ( but she does)

An: and yeah that's the tea