#I WAS SO DISAPPOINTED with it being so short and abrupt

[akaashiikeiijis]

I read tête-à-tête by caciopepebowl and omg it’s perfection absolute perfection I cannot stop smiling.

[wanders-in-wonderland]

As Planned

“You want me to fuck you while you pretend you don’t want it?” His voice is low and measured, his eyes holding mine. I nod and feel a thrill run up my spine when I see his eyes darken in response and he flashes me a smirk.

“I’d hate to disappoint my lovely girlfriend,” he purrs before pulling me in for a kiss.

—

His hands are rough as he pushes me down onto the bed, face first. “Struggle all you want, slut, we both know I’m stronger.” I let out a muffled cry into the pillows and writhe as much as I can.

“Wait, please, no, babe! Stop!” I almost smile from the excitement but stay in character as I feel him roughly pull my shorts and panties down my hips.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says before landing a harsh slap against my ass. I gasp as the pain goes straight to between my legs, making my pussy clench.

His rough fingers press in between my legs and I let out an obscene moan when he makes contact with my wetness. He chuckles darkly from behind me and sharply thrusts two fingers into me.

“Fucking slut, you really are a whore huh? Who else would be this fucking wet over the idea of being forced?” His words taunt me but I’m too distracted to think of a response as his fingers spear into me again and again.

I whine and arch my back, too lost in the pleasure to pretend that I don’t want it. I feel his fingers pull out of me and I whimper in disappointment but I don’t have to wait long before I feel the head of his cock line up against my soaking cunt.

I make a half-hearted attempt at playing into the scene, “No, please, I don’t want this.” He laughs in response before slamming his cock home into my cunt.

The sound of his harsh pants fill my ears as he holds me down and fucks me into the mattress. I moan at how good he feels inside of me, every thrust hitting so deep, the pleasure overwhelming my every sense.

I feel his fingers thread through my hair and he gives a harsh yank that forces the breathe out of me. “You know, I’m not sure this really counts as fulfilling your fantasy of being forced. You’re a little too willing right now,” he says.

I can’t help but moan in response as his cock sinks into my pussy over and over again. Until suddenly, it stops and he pulls out.

I pant brokenly and try to turn my head to look at him, trying to wrap my head around the abrupt change. And then, I feel the head of his cock brush against my asshole and my whole body stiffens.

“Wait, babe, that’s not what we talked about,” my voice is shaking.

“Shut up and take it, slut,” he snarls before starting to push into me.

“Wait, no, I’m serious, babe, stop!” I gasp out as I feel the head of his cock start to work its way into my ass. My pussy’s made it so wet that he doesn’t even need lube but this isn’t what I want.

I try to push myself off the bed but he tightens his hand in my hair and pushes me head down. “Shut up, and stay down, like a good slut. You’re going to take my cock in your ass, this is what you wanted right?”

“No, no, no! Please!” My voice is pitchy and breathless as he continues to push his cock into me. I whine, feeling the pressure and pain cloud my mind.

“Fuck, your ass is so fucking tight.” He doesn’t give me any time to adjust before he gives one final hard push and sheaths himself balls-deep into my ass.

I let out a choked cry, “Babe, stop, it hurts, I’m serious!” I try to move but it only makes his cock push in deeper and I whimper in response.

“This is what you wanted, you wanted to be forced, isn’t that right?” He laughs and suddenly, he moves his hips. His cock slides out of my ass a little, but not enough to give me any reprieve and he immediately slams his hips back down, drawing out a scream from me.

I struggle uselessly underneath him but he ignores my protests as he starts thrusting, setting a harsh pace that makes me gasp in pain.

“No no no, babe, please stop. I’m serious! Pineapple!” I choke out our safe word, begging him to stop and expecting him to immediately pull out. He doesn’t. He laughs.

“Your little safe word doesn’t mean anything to me right now,” he growls, yanking my head back and drilling even harder into me. Tears are streaming down my face now as I sob.

He doesn’t let up, thrusting his cock over and over again into my ass, each movement making me tremble and cry.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to fuck this tight ass for so fucking long,” he groans into my ear. I shudder and let out soft gasping cries as he continues to brutalize my ass. I feel his free hand move down my body and his fingers brush against my clit.

The sound of his laugh wraps around me, “Fuck, you fucking slut. I’m raping your ass and your pussy is fucking dripping more than before.”

I whine and his fingers rub against my clit in a way that makes my body spasm and I hear him groan in pleasure. His fingers set a cruel pace on my clit as he continues to fuck my ass but the sharp pain from before has faded into a dark, confusing blend of pleasure.

“I’m going to make you cum while I’m raping your ass,” he promises, his voice low and threatening. I let out a choked sob in response and I know he’s going to deliver on his promise.

I can feel the pressure of my orgasm building and I know that in a few moments, I’ll cum, just the way he wants, while he’s forcefully fucking my ass and making me like it. His fingers pinch my clit hard and I let out a wail as I shatter around him.

My cunt clenches around nothing and my ass tightens even more around his cock as I ride the waves of my orgasm. My ears are ringing and I’m shaking as the strongest orgasm I’ve ever had rocks my body. I distantly hear him curse and groan as he cums in my ass.

He collapses onto the bed, holding my body down with his own, cock still buried inside of me. I tremble from the aftershocks of my orgasm as my body lays limp and unmoving and my mind goes blank.

Eventually, I vaguely start to register the feeling of his fingers gently massaging my scalp and stroking my hair. I let out a soft whine and I hear him laugh lightly in response. His lips press against my temple softly.

“You okay, honey?”

I make a noncommittal sound and turn my head to look at him.

“Hey, honey, give me a verbal answer, you okay?”

“Mhm, I’m okay, baby,” my voice is soft and a little hoarse from the screaming.

“I’m going to pull out, is that okay?” He asks as he pushes himself up a little to take the weight off of me. I let out a soft moan and I nod in response.

The feeling of him pulling out makes me shiver and I whimper. I feel him step away and he comes back a little later with a warm washcloth and he cleans me up before coming back into bed with me and wrapping his arms around me.

“Did you have fun?” He asks as he shuffles me around a little so I’m laying flat and comfy. I smile at him, “I had so much fun.”

He smiles back, “I’m glad. Although, I almost forgot we agreed to a fake safe word.” He huffs out a laugh. I giggle back at him, “Well, I think it added to the fun.”

He gives me a soft smile again, “Anything for you.”

[sturnioz]

⌗︙— giving chris a strip tease ! authors note. ok so this was supposed to be a short drabble but it ended up being 1.1k words.. :/ the fuck (also no part two for this for the time being !!)

"what the hell are you doin'?" chris laughs lightly as you push at his shoulders, forcing him to sit down at the edge of your bed, instead of greeting him with a kiss when he walks through the door after spending a few hours with his brothers.

although he had fun, he wanted nothing more than to come to your place and spend the rest of his day with you in your arms, so he's surprised by your abrupt actions — rather than your usual welcoming kiss.

the smile still lingers on his lips as he curiously watches you walk to your desk, pick up your phone, and scroll for a few seconds before tapping the screen. suddenly, a familiar song starts playing from the portable speaker he had left at your place a few days prior.

chris finds himself humming along, and he drums his fingers against his thighs and nods his head to the beat. but all of his movements come to a slow halt when he sees you pull at the silk robe you're wearing, revealing his favourite set of lingerie beneath. he swallows thickly, his mouth going dry at the sight.

"holy shit..." chris exhales deeply, blinking at you in shock as he struggles to tear his eyes away from your body. "what are you—what are you doin'?"

"nothing," you quip with a teasing smile, allowing your body to move to the rhythm of the music. you watch as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, struggling to use his words.

chris goes to stand up from the bed, but you shake your head, telling him to remain seated. he huffs in response but does as he's told, his hands curling into tight fists on his thighs as he watches you intently.

he eyes you like a hawk, taking in your languid movements with deep breaths. his cock hardens in his jeans and he shifts uncomfortably on the bed, wanting nothing more than to free himself as his fingers graze over his belt buckle, but he stops once again when you give him a look of warning.

chris laughs in annoyance, "are you, like, fuckin' around with me right now?"

you don't answer. instead your fingers reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders before it pools to the floor, your breasts on display.

chris groans, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he tilts his head back with an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. he then looks back at you, biting down hard on his bottom lip while shaking his head.

you feel a sense of proudness and excitement seeing him so worked up over your mini performance.

you turn your back to him, swaying your hips side to side as your hook your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, and you slide them down your legs, revealing yourself bare to your boyfriend.

your lips stretch into a smile when you hear him curse behind you, and you peer your head over your shoulder to see his eyes staring at your ass, his fists twitching to touch you.

you turn back around to face him, and you slowly walk over to him. he leans back, his lips curling into a grin and his eyes shining as you crawl onto his lap and sit yourself down on his thighs.

he looks up at you, his hands coming around to slide over your hips before caressing your ass, pulling you against him but you tut with a shake of your head.

"stop trying to touch me." you tell him, tone light and teasing despite meaning it.

"i want to fuckin' touch you," chris shoots back, craning his neck to ghost his lips over yours to kiss you, but he huffs in disappointment when you pull away from him again. "i have my girl sittin' naked on top of me and i'm supposed to not to touch her? that's fuckin' crazy."

"just be patient."

"i don't have patience."

you roll your eyes, but you take a hold of his hand, bringing it up to your mouth. you litter a few, gentle kisses across his knuckles before pressing his fingers to your lips.

his eyes widen slightly when you push his index and middle finger past your lips and into the warmth of your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers while keeping your gaze locked on his.

"hah—fuck," chris pants, laying his fingers flat against your tongue, shuddering when he feels you start to suck. "why are you doin' this to me, ma?"

pulling his spit covered fingers from your lips, you smile at him sweetly, "i'm putting on a show for you."

chris goes to tell you that this is definitely some sort of torture, that all he wants to do is flip you around and have you beneath him to fuck you instead. but his mouth drops open in shock when you slowly take his hand down your body and press his wet fingers to your cunt, hearing you moan so prettily as you ease them inside of you.

chris watches in silence as you fuck yourself on his fingers as if it were his cock, and he resists the urge to move — to rip himself out of your grip and hold you down as he fingers you until your legs give out.

but he's in a trance, watching you do everything yourself, hearing the moans and whines spilling from your lips that he wishes he could kiss.

"oh my god," chris murmurs when he feels your spongy walls clench around him as his fingers brush against the spot that has your body tensing above him. "a'ight. you gotta let me do somethin', ma."

you shake your head, breathless as you answer. "no."

"will you just—" chris cuts himself off with an exhale. he closes his eyes. "please? just let me fuckin' do somethin'. let me kiss you or—"

chris grunts when one harsh movement of your hips grinding on his fingers causes you to rub again his cock, making his eyes shoot open at the pleasure that trickles down his spine.

"you're gonna make me cum in my—shit, ma—"

"you sound so pretty when you beg," you hum softly, breath hitching at the back of your throat as you thrust his fingers deeper inside you, unable to control yourself as your head dips forward, resting your forehead to his.

"i'll beg all you want if you let me do somethin'," chris whispers quietly to you, panting due to the friction against his cock. "i'll beg for you all night, okay? just... just let me make you feel good too. let me touch you."

© sturnioz

[faynthearted]

maybe I'm overthinking things, but whenever I see people talking about significant/transformative moments in tianshan's relationship (barring their fight, the kiss, the ear piercing, etc.), I'm always a little disappointed no one points out the scene where the boys are going through the cardboard boxes of random things from he tian's childhood and he tian says something to the effect of, "the entire world is out there but everything I've ever owned only fits in these two boxes" and then he discreetly places his hand palm-up between him and guan shan. and guan shan pauses for a moment before placing his glass in his hand. and then the chapter ends.

this moment is one of the few panels I've saved over the years:

like... it's short but there's so much emotion behind this scene, it's hard for me to put it into words succinctly. and it stands out to me because it's not particularly intense or climatic like their other big moments. it happens soon after she li assaulted guan shan on the riverbank — which was heavy on the drama and ultimately the catalyst for tianshan's relationship. he tian had also just been financially cut off from his family and guan shan had been physically and emotionally vulnerable/exhausted for some time. basically, things were still raw and hectic for both of them in different ways

so this quiet, subdued, and wordless interaction between them on the balcony was very interesting. I honestly think it's one of the first instances in which tianshan have a personal/intimate mutual understanding of one another without an outside force influencing it or the moment being interrupted. and somehow, it's both abnormal and very fitting that he tian didn't make a grand gesture in this moment. like, if you think about it, he simply turned his hand on the cushion and looked at guan shan. it wasn't obvious; he wasn't making a scene. but of course guan shan, hyperaware of him, noticed

and the fact that the chapter ends after that also stands out to me. again, if he tian was being his normal self, he probably would've said/complained outright that he obviously wanted guan shan to give him his hand, not his glass, or he probably would've grabbed guan shan's hand as he was placing the glass down because he tian always just takes what he wants and tames guan shan's defiance or embarrassment after the fact

but instead, the chapter ends. and it doesn't even feel abrupt, really. it feels complete. and it makes me assume that he tian accepted the glass as guan shan's response and didn't press the issue. he might've just held onto the glass in his lap (or drank from it while maintaining eye contact) and then moved his attention back to the group at large. and, again, that's both abnormal and fitting for him in this scene

and I know I just said "guan shan's response" but what's frustrating — and fascinating! — is that I've yet to come to a definitive conclusion about what the (unspoken) question/response between them was to begin with. of course, he tian had just finished talking about the paradoxical state of his life — about how he could have everything and yet he has next to nothing — so maybe his "question" for guan shan was as simple as: "even if I don't have/want anything else, can I at least have you?"

but I also think it's interesting to consider that jian yi immediately laughed at he tian after he finished talking, accusing him of being dramatic (and in jian yi's defense, he'd never really seen an honest version of he tian like guan shan had at that point, so I don't blame him for thinking he tian was just being melodramatic for attention as per usual). anyway, jian yi and zheng xi got a good chuckle out of it, but guan shan didn't. iirc, he actually looked a bit lost in thought before he noticed he tian looking at him, and then his hand between them

with that small detail, it makes me think he tian's question leaned more toward: "do you believe me?" or maybe "do you understand me in the ways I want you to?"

I'd like to think he tian wouldn't have offered his hand if guan shan had also rolled his eyes with zhanyi — poor little rich boy — and dismissed what he'd said. but then again, with the state of their situation/relationship at that point, I don't think there was a chance in hell that guan shan would've dismissed him. I'm sure we can all agree that he tian's intense emotional response to finding guan shan injured and subsequently taking care of him without expecting anything in return drastically changed guan shan's perspective of him. guan shan had a lot to process at that point in the manhua, and a lot of hard truths to start acknowledging. it was clear that he tian had a lot on his mind during that time, too

so guan shan placing the glass in he tian's palm might've been him saying, "I'm still figuring this (us) out... but my answer isn't no" (hence the reason why he tian presumably didn't push the issue further bc he was more cognizant of guan shan's boundaries by this point) or it might've been him saying, "yeah, I'm starting to understand you, and you're not what I thought you were but that's not scaring me away" (therefore affirming he tian's question so he didn't feel the need to pursue the moment or make a bigger scene)

in any case, although there's no continuation after that scene, I think they were both satisfied by the end of the evening. I don't think he tian was disappointed by guan shan's response, and guan shan would've known that too. in fact, I'd argue that guan shan wanted to reaffirm he tian's emotions in that moment. the worst (yet easiest) thing guan shan could've done is look at him, look at his hand, and then look away and ignore him — literally leaving him empty-handed. that would've left he tian in a sour fucking mood... or at least a bit wounded

but instead, guan shan chose the more honest/reciprocal route even if he wasn't 100% sure yet. and... I don't know. it really stands out to me and I think a lot more was happening in that interaction than what could've been expressed in words. and yet I've literally never seen anyone talk about that scene since it was posted — which, fair enough. it's only a couple of panels. but I think about it constantly!

[nadvs]

　　🐚　⊹　❀　︵　∘　 breaking point ⟢

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

summary withdrawal is worse than rafe ever could have imagined. thankfully, he has you.

content warning substance abuse

this is a blurb in the home before dark universe, inspired by this ask!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It’s been four nights without coke. Rafe keeps hoping it’ll get even just a shred easier, but it’s not.

You told him it’d be best to skip parties for the next while so he’s not tempted while he tries to quit. What he didn’t expect was that you’d be skipping them with him. He should have known, though, considering how much you care about him.

Moments like these, he’s not sure why you chose him.

He’s been curt all day, responding to you with short, sharp sentences. Still, you’ve stayed by his side, making sure he’s resting, pretending not to notice how much he’s shaking.

The moon is in the sky, signalling the end of a long day. It’s obvious your boyfriend doesn’t want to talk, so you step out onto the balcony that leads out of his bedroom as he sits in bed, scrolling on his phone.

You look out at the massive property under the night sky, hoping it’ll get easier for him soon.

According to the research you’ve done, it’s different for every addict. There’s no timeline to follow, no day you can look forward to things turning around for him. Some symptoms last months.

After a few minutes of silence, you hear sluggish footsteps padding behind you.

Rafe rubs his mouth, his ring gleaming in the moonlight, as he stands beside you at the railing.

“I’m an asshole,” he mutters. “Sorry.”

“A real asshole wouldn’t worry about being an asshole,” you reply. You look over at him, his face downturned in shame. “It’s hard. Feeling angry or irritable is expected.”

Rafe nods, gazing down.

“How do you know?” he asks.

“I read up on it,” you say. “You can’t control how your body is reacting. It’s okay.”

“It didn’t even feel good to do it anymore by the end,” he admits. “It just made me feel like… I don’t know, nervous. But I still want...”

Rafe can’t finish his sentence, disappointed in himself.

“You’re doing great,” you say, resting a hand on his trembling back. “It’s not easy.”

“I shoulda never fucking started,” he says with a scoff. You try to steer the conversation away from the past, so not to remind him why he so desperately chases an escape.

“Are you hungrier than usual?” you ask. Increased appetite was a symptom you read about.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Wanna go for a late night food run?” you ask. “Or you can stay here and I go make something or pick something up?”

Rafe stares at you through heavy lidded eyes, lips parted.

“What?” you ask.

“This might sound…” he says, unable to find the word. He takes a deep breath. “I think I’d die without you.”

Your eyes deepen with sorrow, compassion, and gratitude all at once.

“Remember everything you did for me?” you ask softly.

When Rafe’s eyes sweep over your face, he does. He wouldn’t leave your side when you were trying to escape your ex. He beat him within an inch of his life. He stared down the end of a gun, risking everything, ready to kill someone who was tormenting you.

He’d do it all again.

“You saved my life,” you say, tears pricking at your eyes. Even when it was so painful being around you, Rafe wouldn’t leave you. You still carry the trauma from what happened, but being with the man who protected you, even when he’s being abrupt, reminds you of how safe you are.

“This won’t beat you, okay?” you tell him. “I won’t let it.”

You curl into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, inhaling the smell of his cologne and his natural musk.

Rafe kisses the top of your head, hugging you tightly. You stand like this for a few minutes, and when you pull back, he kisses your lips, asking where you want to go to eat.

You gaze up at him with all the love in your heart, a hopeful smile growing on your face.

You don’t think anything you could do for him could even the score and make up for what he’s done for you.

He’s thinking the same thing about you.

After you eat together, you hold his trembling body in bed, kissing his forehead, hearing his breaths fall deeper once he falls asleep.

You tell yourself every bad night is one step closer to the first good night. You’ll weather this with him. All of it.

[hopefulceladon]

︶⊹ silent night | sunday x reader

summary: one is supposed to treat everyone with hospitality in case of chance encounters, aren't they? so why was it so hard for you to do the same for him? notes: this was made well before sunday's first official in-game appearance! word count: 1.8k ao3 link: here!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ ⋆ ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It was quiet. 

Except, no, that would’ve been a rather inadequate, exceedingly drab way to describe the scenery in which you’ve surrounded yourself in. 

Throughout your stay at The Reverie Hotel, you never knew it to behold racket in the middle of the night, so the silence in the air was nearly expected and not at all noteworthy. 

Rather, it had not been merely quiet, but everything was so still, so maddeningly stagnant, that all that you felt in that very moment was the sensation of tiny bumps that prickled upon the chilly surface of your arms, as well as the thrumming of your anxious heart that resided in your chest as trepidation clung like a suffocating blanket to your lungs. 

In short, you swore you felt like you were being watched; watched long enough for your worries to occupy the vacancies between your rational thoughts, watched long enough for the trees that surrounded you in the courtyard to still, as if they, too, were afraid that whatever was seemingly nearby would undoubtedly perceive them first, as unlikely as that was. 

Sick of the sheer absurd nature of your intrusive thoughts, you hastily gathered the small amount of belongings you brought outside to get up from the spot of grass you sat upon. With your mind purely occupied upon going back to your hotel room, where you hoped had been far safer, a sudden voice broke all your will and intent. 

“Dearest guest?” 

Startled, you fell backwards onto the plush grass with a distinct gasp of discomfort. As you sharply turned your head upright to face the one who shattered your solitude, all that you could see were blurry lines of glowing light, heavily disrupting the clarity of your vision. 

“My heavens, that was quite the startle. I apologize.” 

The mellifluous voice surely sounded familiar, but with your visage currently impaired by an irritatingly obnoxious amount of illuminance, you couldn't see who it belonged to. 

Over the span of a few deep breaths taken to still the anxious tremor in your chest, the luminous aura had slowly dissipated and only lingered near his right hand, moving downwards to form a glowing radius around what seemed to be a lantern the stranger had carried. 

As you blinked the aftereffects of the blinding light away from your sight, you felt something sink—though you weren't sure if it was your heart or your stomach—at the sight of the gray-haired man in front of you. 

Standing before you was the head of ‘The Family’, the organization you've heard far too many conspiratorial whispers about in passing, and yet knew next to nothing of the truth in full. It wasn’t that you’ve never seen Sunday before, but it was always when you were far off into the background, never once having the chance to hold a full-fledged conversation with him. 

And yet, here he was now, and all you could feel was an awkward sense of distrust, instilled in you by the overheard whispers that enabled your inhibitions to take over the reins. Perhaps the eerie atmosphere from earlier didn’t help either. 

“Ah... Mr. Sunday.” you tentatively acknowledged his presence. 

The winged man noticed the hesitance in your tone, yet graciously offered you his free hand so you could stand upright before you two conversed further. 

You quickly declined with a shake of your head. 

Sunday's tongue clicked, his eyebrows furrowing together, but the sudden expression of disappointment was as brief as it was abrupt. 

“Please, I insist.” 

Despite your display of obstinance, he still held out his hand for you to take, patiently awaiting your next move. 

The urge to resist and stand firm on your belief that you didn't require assistance was enticing, but, caught up in a sudden moment of weakness after glancing upwards at his softened golden eyes, you finally decided to accept. 

It was surely the right thing to do, after all, wasn't it? 

You weren't entirely surprised by the gentle way his hand had delicately grasped onto yours as he lifted you upright, nor were you startled by the soft, chilly sensation of his gloved thumb brushing briefly against your knuckles, as you knew from prior observations that he was a courteous man, and this was surely typical behavior. 

What you were surprised by, however, was the smile upon his lips as he helped you back onto your feet. It had been a reassuring image at first, until you realized soon after that his expression never met his eyes, let alone crinkled their corners. 

Come to think of it, whenever you happened to capture the rare sight of Sunday off in the distance before back at the hotel, did he ever give anyone he spoke to a genuine smile? 

The sound of Sunday clearing his throat interrupted both your brain's musings and the night's silence. 

“As I stated earlier, I apologize for startling you.” 

“It's fine! Absolutely fine, seriously.” you insisted, waving a hand in dismissal as you took a step backwards. With the anxieties from earlier growing ever more intrusive, you wondered if maybe you should've stayed inside your hotel room after all. 

Sunday tilted his head, completely ignoring your words and focusing on your footwork instead. “If everything is ‘absolutely fine’ as you say, may I please ask why you're currently backing away like a frightened little kitten?” 

Though his tone was merely curious, you couldn't help but worry you inadvertently peeved him, feeling as if the weight of his gaze had fallen upon your every move, silently observing you to assume your next move before you even made it. 

“Ah, I just... I'm...” you desperately fumbled for words. “A... a little chilly, yes! And I was simply going to go back inside—” 

“You're chilly, you say?” Sunday interrupted your nervous sputtering before taking a step closer, setting the lantern he held with his right hand down onto the stony ground, and then gently lowering his pristine, white jacket from off his shoulders. “I wish you would've spoken sooner, I'd simply hate for a guest of mine to freeze to death...” 

Before you could ask whatever it was that he was doing, the sudden heaviness of something completely foreign weighed down upon your tensed shoulders, and you turned to face him, bewildered. 

“Think of it as an apology gift, won't you?” Sunday replied, noting your confusion, yet speaking nothing of it as his eyes focused upon one of your shoulders. “And... ah, might I remove this peculiar speck of dirt? Forgive me, it's just bothering me immensely.” 

“Huh? Oh, uh... of course?” 

Sunday hummed thoughtfully before carefully laying his hand atop your shoulder, gently flicking off the piece of dirt that had offended his sight. A tiny, lopsided, yet ultimately still forced, smile formed upon his lips for a few brief seconds afterwards, though you weren't sure what for. 

“There we are. Not only do you look your best, but I'm also sure you feel your best as well now, no?” 

“Right, uh... are you always this courteous to guests?” you murmured. 

“Ah, of course! The Family prides itself on showing hospitality to all of those who stay in the hotel,” he paused, raising a brow. “...so, shouldn’t you, yourself, provide more hospitality in kind? You can never quite tell if you've entertained an angel unawares, after all.” 

Though his words most definitely belonged in any sort of stern lecture, his tone was far from befitting any admonishments. 

He had used a tone that was far too soft, far too sugary sweet, and as you stood there, desperately seeking any potential agendas hidden within the depths of his words, you failed to pan out any nuggets of information that could reaffirm your suspicions, despite your best efforts. 

Noting your silence, Sunday simply tutted in disappointment. 

“You seem awfully anxious still.” the man mused out loud, his gaze lingering on your tensed posture before falling to peer over all what the beautiful courtyard had generously offered. “You see, I've heard the world of dreams has this brilliant ability to still one's mind and heart...” 

“Why do you sound so insistent upon me going there?” you asked quickly before you realized your mistake, wishing your tongue would, for once, wait for your brain to catch up. 

Sunday's seraphic wings vaguely twitched, and he took a second before answering. 

“Is it really so wrong for me to hope that my guests, and I do mean all of my guests, get to experience the full extent of joys that Penacony has to offer? All I wish for is just for you to relax, dear.” 

After taking a moment to transfer the lantern on the floor onto a nearby table, providing a far more suitable range of light, Sunday glanced back up at you, his cheek resting against his palm, fully intent on waiting as long as it took to hear your answer. 

Nervously, you took a deep breath, trying your best to consider his words. 

It's not that you wanted to distrust all that falls from his lips, but surely you were being fooled, weren't you? How could a man at the head of such a famous family be so exceedingly courteous and kind, without some sort of hidden objective? Surely, you were merely an insignificant actor—hopefully not an infuriating obstacle—in his grand plans, whatever they were, and Penacony was merely his performance's stage? 

You wished not to be led like a blind lamb to its’ slaughter, but you could nearly compare yourself to a mindless moth bumbling its way towards Sunday's flickering flame, as the possibility of attempting to trust him without reservations was so dearly tempting. 

With a sigh, you allowed your tensed shoulder blades to relax, and slowly, you unclenched a fair portion of the strain out of your jaw. 

“I'll... try to consider it?” 

“Ah, you will?” Sunday's head tilted, and he let out a soft chuckle. Had it just been you, or did he seem rather pleased with himself that he managed to sway you towards his idea? 

“Well, I do hope it proves to be a wonderful experience for you, then.” 

Forcing your nerves down, you were about to smile at him before you noticed the motion of his wings, twitching with happiness as they hovered so delicately against his ears. 

It was odd. Odd in the sense that it was the first positive response beyond an eloquently worded reply or tight-lipped, false smile that he ever gave you. And, unfortunately, not only was it odd, but it really was quite a charming sight. 

Blinking yourself out of your distracted daze, you lowered your head with gratitude. “Thank you, sir...” 

“Make no mention of it. May your dreams in Penacony always be pleasant, dearest guest.” 

Though your nerves still bubbled away in your chest and in your thoughts, you tried to convince yourself that everything was going to be fine. 

Because surely, you could trust him, right?

[xxchumanixx]

Lilies and Conspiracies pt. 3

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Lilies and Conspiracies pt. 3 - personal guard dog

Warnings/Tags: fluff, nothing more yet really

Word count: tba

Authors note: Get ready for some brother-time! I like Max, and I personally like the idea that they are not like everyone else in the ton.

Series Masterlist -> pt. 4

Enjoy!

You nodded, acting like you agreed, when the door opened again, and you haven't ever been more glad to see your brother enter the room.

You looked up at him, silently pleading to save you, but acting like you were surprised to see him. "Max, what is it?" you asked, furrowing your brows in faked confusion. "We have an appointment at the modiste in half an hour." he said. "I'm sorry, but I fear the gentleman have to excuse themselves. Of course you can return later, we'll be in the park afterwards."

You sighed dramatically. "Oh, I forgot." you said, feigning dismay. "I am so sorry, my Lords. But I need to get new dresses for the upcoming balls." You were disappointed you would have to bid Anthony goodbye already, but you silently hoped to see him at the park later.

Anthony hid his relief as your brother entered the room, providing the perfect excuse to end your interaction with Lord Pendale.

As Max spoke, he watched you and Pendale attentively, observing what he assumed as being feigned surprise, and he knew you were just as relieved as him.

Thank God. he thought to himself. He couldn't take one moment longer of seeing you having to pretend to be polite to that arrogant lord without a few not so polite words slipping past his lips.

He glanced at Max as he announced the appointment at the modiste, then back at you. Though he was disappointed that your time together was cut short, he knew it was a blessing in disguise.

Pendale, however, seemed annoyed at the interruption, his smirk faltering slightly. "Oh, yes, I see." he said, clearly not satisfied with the abrupt end to his visit. Anthony, on the other hand, couldn't help a small smirk of satisfaction at seeing Pendale's annoyance. The pompous lord didn't take well to being interrupted.

As you feigned dismay and apologized, Pendale stood up, clearly miffed. "Well, I suppose we have no choice but to leave." he said, his tone sulking.

"I am really so sorry, Lord Pendale." you apologized, standing up, too. "But I hope to see you soon. I can't wait to learn about finances of you. You make it sound so irresistibly interesting."

Pendale's expression softened slightly at your words, his ego clearly boosted by your flattery. He couldn't resist the opportunity to appear knowledgeable and interesting.

"Oh, well, you're in luck, Miss Barton." he said, his smirk returning. "I'd be more than happy to teach you anything you want to know about finances."

He then turned to Anthony with a quick nod. "Lord Bridgerton." he said in farewell before walking out of the room.

You bit your lip, scratching your brow. "Well, that was rather interesting." you muttered, before turning to your brother. "You have no clue how grateful I am for your interruption, brother."

You didn't care that Anthony heard your words of relief, something a woman was taught to hide and not show so openly.

You had the feeling he felt the same.

Max chuckled, clearly sensing your relief at the end of Pendale's visit. "No need to thank me. I know you were probably bored out of your mind." he said, a smirk on his face. "And honestly, it was a pleasure to interrupt that pompous lord. His presence was quite insufferable."

Anthony stifled a laugh as he stood, finding Max's assessment of Lord Pendale amusingly accurate. He silently agreed that Pendale's presence was, in fact, quite insufferable.

He watched as you and your brother exchanged banter, a hint of warmth blossoming in his chest at the closeness between you two.

It reminded him of his own siblings.

Meanwhile, Max playfully nudged you, teasing you. "Well, we have to run now to make our appointment." he said, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I hope to see you at the park, Lord Bridgerton?" you asked, looking at Anthony. "Maybe we can continue our talk there, without Lord Pendale and his finances. Or Lord Berbrooke." You shuddered at the sudden thought of him.

Anthony felt a smile pull at the corners of his lips at your question. He certainly hoped to see you again at the park, too. The thought of spending more time with you, without the likes of Pendale or Berbrooke, was very appealing.

"Indeed, Miss Barton." he replied, his tone soft and warm. "I look forward to continuing our conversation in a more pleasant setting." Anthony's expression darkened at the mention of Berbrooke. "With the absence of certain annoying individuals."

You snorted, but quickly put your hand in front of your mouth, biting your lip. "Then I suppose I'll see you soon." you said, after removing your hand again.

With that you left the room with Max, making your way to the modiste.

Anthony chuckled softly, amused by your snorted laughter and the quick attempt to hide it.

He watched as you left the room with Max, the sight of you walking away stirring a pang of disappointment within him. He would've preferred to continue talking to you, but he understood the necessity of your appointment at the modiste.

As you and Max headed out of the room, Anthony stayed behind, a subtle sense of eagerness growing within him. He couldn't wait to see you again at the park later.

When seated in the carriage, Max sent you a pointed look. "What?" you asked. His look deepened, before he shook his head. "I thought I told you about Lord Bridgerton's reputation." he said. You huffed, shaking your head as well. "He's a respectable suitor." you gave back. "I want to see for myself who he is. Whistledown certainly has a habit to exaggerate."

Max raised an eyebrow at your response. "Respectable suitor?" he echoed, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Y/N, you've heard the whispers. Lord Bridgerton has quite the reputation. He's known for being the most notorious rake in London."

He leaned back against the seat of the carriage, fixing you with a stern look. "And you think Whistledown is exaggerating? You know her words hold quite a bit of truth."

You bit your cheek. "I know they do." you said. "Her words certainly have the power to destroy once reputation. But since when do I listen to what others say?"

Max chuckled dryly, "You've always had a tendency to not listen to others, I'll give you that."

He sighed, then continued more seriously. "But you can't ignore the rumors surrounding Lord Bridgerton. He might hold a respectable title, but his reputation precedes him as an infamous rake. He's not known for being interested in a serious courtship."

Max looked at you meaningfully, his gaze concerned. "Just be careful, Y/N. I don't want to see you getting hurt."

You nodded, feeling a pang in your heart. "What makes you so sure he's not interested in a serious courtship?" you wanted to know, not fully able to hide the hope in your voice. "Why else would he have been at our house this early in the morning to visit me?"

Max paused, considering your question. He knew you had a point, but he was still wary of Anthony's intentions - especially when it was his mother that announced he’d be looking for a wife, not himself.

"I suppose that's a fair point." he conceded. "But there still might be other reasons for his visit. He might be trying to improve his reputation, or he might be simply interested in a short-lived dalliance."

Max reached out, gently placing a hand on your arm. "Please, Y/N. Just be careful. Don't let yourself become enamored with him, only to be left heartbroken."

You nodded again, swallowing. "I won't." you assured him, looking up at him. "But I have to find a suitor nonetheless. Maybe not a love match, but I hope to find someone that at least respects me for who I am, not for who I'm ought to be."

Max regarded you with an understanding smile. He knew how important it was for you to find a suitable match, someone who would value you for more than just your title or status.

He squeezed your arm gently, his expression solemn. "I understand.” he spoke softly. “I want nothing more than for you to find someone who respects and adores you for all that you are. But please, don't rush into anything with Lord Bridgerton."

He gave you a meaningful look. "Promise me you'll be cautious."

You nodded. "I promise." you said. "He seemed honest and he shared my opinions this far." you added. "And his mother made clear he is looking for a wife this season."

Max's expression softened slightly, reassured by your promise. Yet he remained vigilant. "His mother is eager to see him married, yes. But you must know that doesn't guarantee his own desire for a wife." he explained, before sighing.

"I know you think he shares your opinions and seems sincere. But always remember that people can be quite deceiving. Especially gentlemen of his reputation."

He squeezed your arm again. "Just keep your guard up, my dear. I wouldn't want to see you taken advantage of by a notorious rake."

You snorted, sending him a pointed look. "Oh, please, Max." you said. "Aren't you quite the rake yourself?"

Max chuckled at your response, his smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Well, I suppose I do have a certain reputation." he conceded, a hint of pride in his tone.

He leaned back against the carriage seat, crossing one leg over the other. "But I assure you my dear, I don't mess with innocent little debutantes like yourself."

He smirked again. "My tastes are a bit more...experienced."

You hit him playfully, acting shocked at his boldness. "Max!"

Max burst out laughing, enjoying your playful shock. "What?" he teased, feigning innocence. "Don't act so scandalized. I'm just being honest."

he chuckled, as he straightened himself, his smirk deepening. "You know me Y/N, I always go after women who know exactly what they're getting themselves into."

You shook your head, not able to hide a grin, though. "I'd like to see the day you marry." you joked.

Max chuckled again, a smug expression on his face. "Oh, don't hold your breath, dear sister." he teased. "I plan on remaining a bachelor for as long as possible."

He paused for theatrical effect. "Besides, I find the idea of chasing after married women quite exhilarating."

He winked at you, clearly playing the part of the mischievous rake.

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head. "I am surprised Whistledown hasn't written about you, yet." you said. "You're quite the walking scandal."

Max raised an eyebrow, a smirk still plastered on his face. "Oh, darling sister, I must say I'm hurt." he said, mock offense in his voice. "How could you suggest such a thing? I'm a perfect gentleman."

He chuckled, leaning back against the carriage seat. "But I suppose it doesn't surprise me that Whistledown hasn't targeted me yet. She probably can't keep up with all my escapades."

You rolled your eyes, as the carriage slowed. "You're insufferable."

Max feigned a surprised gasp, pretending to be deeply wounded by your remark. "Oh, such harsh words from my own flesh and blood." he said in a dramatic tone, placing his hand over his chest.

The carriage came to a stop, and he chuckled, a proud smirk returning to his face. "But you know you love me anyway, Y/N."

You shook your head. "What other choice do I have?" you asked, smirking at him, as the door of the carriage was opened. You were helped out of the carriage, standing in front of Madame Delacroix's dressmaker.

Max stepped out of the carriage after you, a smirk on his face as he followed you into the dressmaker's. "None at all, I'm afraid." he said playfully.

As you entered, the shop appeared vibrant and elegant, filled with an array of beautiful gowns, fabrics, and accessories. The shopkeeper, Madame Delacroix, immediately noticed your arrival.

"Miss Barton." she greeted you with her france accent, curtsying. "Lord Barton."

Max smiled at Madame Delacroix. "Madame." he greeted back, bowing his head respectfully.

She then turned her attention directly to you. "Ah, Miss Barton, it is so lovely to see you."

She gestured around the shop. "We have many new arrivals today. I am sure we will find the perfect gown for you."

You nodded, smiling. "I can't wait."

Madame Delacroix returned your smile, clearly excited to help. "Excellent. Come, come. Let us look through the newest fabrics we have."

She led you and Max into the shop, guiding you past racks upon racks of colorful fabrics, the silks and satins shimmering in the light.

The shop felt like a little treasure trove of fashion.

Your fingers brushed over the various fabrics, trying to decide what you wanted. "I want at least one dress in lavender and one in baby blue." You stopped in front of a fabric that reflected the light in rainbow colors. “And this one on a dress."

Madame Delacroix nodded, clearly aware that you had a good eye. "Ah, excellent choices, Miss Barton.” she compliemented. “Lavender and Baby Blue are always lovely hues for a young Miss."

She then noticed the fabric you pointed out, the one with glimmering rainbow colors. "And that one is quite special indeed.” she spoke, nodding. “That's a beautiful iridescent silk. It will look absolutely stunning when made into a gown."

You nodded. "I want a gown of it and some with it as accents."

Madame Delacroix smiled, clearly pleased by your choices. "Of course, my Lady. That fabric will be perfect for making a stunning gown."

She gently took some of the fabric and held it up against you. "With your complexion, and the way it reflects the light, you will look absolutely radiant."

You smiled. "I'd like that."

Madame Delacroix nodded, smiling back at you. "Excellent. I will arrange for a gown made from this iridescent silk and incorporate some accents into other gowns too."

She then gestured toward the racks. "Now, shall we look for the other fabric options for the Lavender and Baby Blue dresses?"

You nodded. "Yes, please."

Madame Delacroix led you over to the appropriate section of fabric for the Lavender and baby blue dresses. She carefully picked out some swatches, holding them up against your face to see how they reflected against your complexion.

"Here, these would look lovely with the Lavender hue." she said, holding up a soft, delicate cotton fabric with a slight sheen to it. "And for the baby blue, maybe something a bit brighter, like this silk jacquard."

You felt the fabrics between your gloved fingers. "I like these." you said, nodding. "I'll take them."

Madame Delacroix smiled, pleased to hear your approval. "Excellent choice, my Lady.” she said. “The lavender will feel soft and lightweight against your skin, and the baby blue will have a lovely shimmer."

She made note of your choices, then looked up at you. "Now, any particular style or design you have in mind for these gowns?"

You thought for a moment. "Surprise me." you then said. "I don't have a particular style in mind, but maybe you can add some styles as accents or something, maybe something from France. You're the schooled one, I believe you'll make these gowns something special."

Madame Delacroix chuckled, clearly flattered by your trust in her. "Of course, Miss Barton. I will use my experience and creativity to design something special."

She nodded, then began to jot down some more notes. "I'll add some unique elements, perhaps a surprise detail on the lavender gown, and a special accent on the baby blue. Nothing too drastic, just enough to make them stand out."

You nodded. "I'd love that." you said, the thought of Anthony suddenly in the back of your mind. Maybe he would notice the details, maybe you’d stand out from the other girls.

Madame Delacroix smiled, clearly excited to get started on your gowns. "Wonderful."

She wrote down the last few notes, then looked up at you. "I'll begin working on these immediately. I assure you, Miss Barton, these gowns will be spectacular." she promised.

You nodded. "I'm sure they will." you spoke. "Very well, then I suppose we will pick gloves and such later? When the gowns are done, or now?"

Madame Delacroix considered the question for a moment, then replied. "I suggest we wait to pick out the gloves and accessories until your gowns are complete." she suggested. "That way, we can coordinate the colors and styles perfectly. What do you think, Miss Barton?"

You nodded. "Perfect."

"Excellent." Madame Delacroix smiled. "Then I will begin your gowns. Please come back to my shop when they're ready, and we'll select the perfect gloves and accessories to match."

You nodded again. "Thank you, Madame Delacroix."

She bowed her head in response. "It's my pleasure, Miss Barton." she returned. "I look forward to seeing you again soon when the gowns are done."

With that you bid her goodbye, leaving the Modiste together with Max.

Max, having been silently observing you and Madame Delacroix, smiled and offered you his arm as you left the dressmaker's shop.

"Well, I must say, Y/N, you certainly have an eye for fashion." he said, his trademark smirk in place.

You rolled your eyes. "Of course I have." you gave back. "One of us has to."

Max chuckled, fully aware of his own lack of interest in fashion. "Oh, come now, Y/N. You know I have other priorities than the latest trends and frills."

He squeezed your arm playfully, a hint of mischievousness in his voice. "I focus on more... enjoyable things."

You huffed. "Such as certain nightgowns, I guess?"

Max let out a hearty laugh at your comment, clearly amused by your tease. "Oh, darling sister, you know me too well." he spoke. "Let's just say I appreciate a beautiful woman in even more beautiful garments."

He gave you a wink, the playful banter between you both almost like a sibling ritual.

"That's what I thought." you mused. "So, the park it is now? We shall get the staff working to gather the pavilion and stuff."

Max nodded, the topic of conversation shifting as you mentioned the park. "Yes, the park."

He looked around, taking in the surroundings. "I'll arrange for everything necessary - pavilion, refreshments, any decorations. It will be a lovely setting for our atay at the park."

You nodded. "Perfect. Then I'll change into a more fitting gown, and we can go." you said, stopping in front of the carriage.

Max helped you into the carriage, a smirk on his face. "Oh, you want to change into a more fitting gown, do you?" he teased. "Does that mean you're trying to impress someone in particular with your attire?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the playful banter between you two.

You chuckled. "I have to, after all I'm supposed to find someone to marry, am I not?"

Max nodded, clearly amused by your comment. "Ah, yes. The hunt for a suitable suitor, how thrilling."

He chuckled again. "But tell me, darling sister, who exactly are you hoping to impress?" he wanted to know. "Or should I say, make a certain viscount jealous?"

You choked on your own saliva, coughing for a short moment. "I don't know what you mean." you then said. "After all you were the one telling me not to get too close to him, because he doesn't want to marry and, most importantly, is a notorious rake."

Max chuckled at your reaction, clearly finding your coughing episode quite humorous. "Oh, darling sister, you can deny it all you want, but you can't fool me."

He leaned closer, his smirk growing wider. "I saw the way you looked at him, the subtle glances, the way your cheeks flushed. You can't deny there's some interest there."

You glared at him. "How ironic of you to say after telling me to basically get away from him."

Max shrugged, his smirk unfaltering. "Oh, come now, Y/N. I was just looking out for you." he defended himself half-heartedly. "You know how rakes can be, especially someone with a reputation like Viscount Bridgerton."

He chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. "But you must admit, he is quite handsome." he added. "And his charm can be rather intoxicating. It's understandable to be attracted to him."

You rolled your eyes. "He is indeed handsome, but I think I can assure you he's not interested in men." you said. "Unlike you, with your interest in both."

It was forbidden, yet it didn't stop some of the men that were interested in their same gender. "As for being attracted to him," you continued. "I wish to marry out of love. I hardly know him."

Max chuckled, not denying your accusation about his own preferences. "You know me all too well, darling sister." he said, before shrugging casually. "But as for marriage, love is not a requirement, especially in our circles. Marriages of convenience abound, and that's exactly what you need: a practical and advantageous union."

You bit your cheek. "Yeah, I know." you said. "But one can wish, can I not?"

Max nodded, his teasing smile softening slightly. "Of course, darling sister. Wishing and hope are not forbidden." he spoke, chuckling softly. "Just make sure you keep your expectations in check. You know how the world of high society works. Love is not always on the table in these arranged matches."

"It hardly ever is." you agreed. "Still I want something like our parents had. I want love, unconditional and never ending love. There's still some time left till the end of the season, maybe I'll still find it. That is, if no one asks for my hand before that and you sell me off."

Max tilted his head, his eyes studying you intently. He knew you well and could sense your hopefulness for love not fading. "Spoken like a true dreamy romantic, Y/N."

He chuckled softly, his words not without sympathy. "I understand your desire for love, I truly do. But remember that practicality must come first. If a suitor of good standing asks for your hand, we must consider the benefits of such a union."

You scoffed. "You're saying that like you were in my position." you said. "Yet you can choose who you marry, whilst I am chosen."

Max ran a hand through his hair, a small sigh escaping his lips. "I may have more freedom in choosing a partner, but you must remember that our social standing depends on you making a good match." he returned, but softening his tone. "I'm simply saying that in our world, love must take a backseat when strategic connections are at stake. Your marriage, no matter how much you hate it, could make or break our family's future."

You nodded, feeling that burden on your shoulders every time you talked to a potential suitor. "And what about a Viscount?" you asked, a bit hopeful. "Would a Viscount be a good match?"

You intentionally didn't say a name, though.

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly catching on to your meaning. "A Viscount hmm?" he made. "Someone in particular on your mind, darling sister? A Viscount would be a most advantageous match, no doubt about it. A respected title, a high social standing, and the potential for a well-connected union."

You sighed, nodding. "Well, then we'll have to see what comes out of this season, will we not?" you spoke, as the carriage arrived back at your home. "But I don't want lord Pendale or Berbrooke."

Max chuckled, rolling his eyes at the mention of Lord Pendale and Berbrooke. "Lord Pendale is a buffoon and has the wit of a brick, he wouldn't be a suitable match for you."

he told you, before he sighed disdainfully at the mention of Lord Berbrooke. "And Berbrooke...I would rather see you marry a horse than that greasy worm."

You snorted at his choice of words, when the carriage door was opened. "Wise words, brother." you said, taking the hand of the horseman that helped you out of the carriage. "Like a true gentleman."

Max chuckled, stepping out behind you. "Oh, you flatter me, darling sister. I'm always the picture of gentlemanly decorum."

He followed you into the house, smirking. "But worry not. I shall guard your reputation fiercely. No greasy worms or fools will be allowed near you."

You nodded. "Then I'm glad to have you by my side, dear brother." you said playfully. "My personal guard dog."

Max rolled his eyes, playing along with your teasing. "Oh, please. I am much more refined than a mere guard dog." he said. "Perhaps a lion, or a mighty dragon, ready to protect its treasure at all costs."

You scoffed. "A dragon, huh?" you chuckled, shaking your head, walking towards the stairs. "I'll let you know when I'm ready to go to the park."

Max chuckled, watching as you ascended the stairs. "Very well, darling sister. I'll have the carriage prepared for your convenience."

He gave you a mock salute. "And I shall wait here like a proper dragon guard, ready to burn down any unworthy suitors who dare approach you."

You snorted, shaking your head, before you went into your room.

Max chuckled, watching you disappear into your room. He leaned against a wall, his thoughts wandering. He knew he had his duties to ensure you would find a suitable match, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for having to act as your matchmaker rather than your brother.

With a sigh, he made his way outside to instruct the staff to prepare the carriage for your trip to the park.

Tag List

@misscaller06 @freyathehuntress

@queenslandlover-93 @chauchirem

@serenadingtigers

[xxfaithlynxx]

Cosmic Path

Word Count: 9k (9479) I am so not sorry.

BETA-READ!

Please DO NOT steal or plagiarize my work. Much appreciated! As always.

Ω ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ Ω

Chapter 15:

SYLUS

Ω  ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶  Ω

‘Fuck… she smells so good.’

Now, now, Sylus. Deep breaths. This is neither the time nor place to lose control! 

‘Shut it, hound… I am breathing.’ He took a deep breath, ‘She just smells– so– good.’

Yes she does… but Sylus, you need to regain your control. You are scaring her.

That was enough to bring Sylus’ mind to an abrupt halt. The weight of his desire, his need for her snuffed out with four words. I’m scaring her? 

He’d blacked out when she kissed him, Hell… he’d partially blacked out when he heard her say that she loved him, and that she’d heard him say those same words the night prior. He wanted to tell her all morning, say it to her beautiful face directly instead of hiding behind the cloak of sleep, and then she’d asked about him biting her, and then Sirius had come barging into his head like a bull in a China shop, screaming about how something Stayrus had mentioned in passing had made her doubt her feelings, but now– after all of the chaos this morning– he knew she’d heard him, and not only accepted his feelings but returned them as well! 

When she kissed him, his mind went catatonic. All that powered him was her scent. It was an overwhelming sweetness that clung to him like morning dew. He’d felt the need for her, to dominate and claim her blossom in his gut when she’d tried to move away, and he’d found himself following after those glorious lips of hers, after that scent of hers, like the ambrosia of the Gods.

He was disappointed in himself for trying to push her too far. For nearly losing all of his normally trained control. Thankfully it had only been a kiss, and a few love nibbles and nothing that could tarnish their still new, still fresh connection. 

She’d managed to push past him, even keeping herself together better than he did. 

You have, maybe, seventy-two hours before your rut, Sylus. With her being here, and her pheromones being as chaotic as they already are when you are together, I would give her the same time frame. The two of your cycles are syncing up faster than I expected. As I have told her already, this will get harder before it gets easier. 

It took a moment, but Sylus recognized Siri’s presence beside Stayrus’. Her words were agitated, but soft. She’s worried about you. She will need to nest… even if it is out in the wilderness, before we arrive on your lands, Sylus, she will need you with her. This is non-negotiable, you know that. 

Sylus squeezed his eyes shut, hearing Siri’s voice, the concern etched into every syllable. 

‘We aren’t going to make it to my pack lands… I’ll try and get us as far as I can, but there is still so much land to cover.’

Do what you can, dear Sylus. She’s counting on you… just as much as you’re counting on her. Siri’s words brought him up short just as he’d managed to heave himself to his feet. The hand he had gripping the back of the chair tightened, what had she meant by that? That he was also counting on Ori? As in he was counting on her as a mate? To stay beside him? 

No, the way the wolf had said it, she’d meant it as something deeper. 

He’d dwell on that later. Right now, he had to get himself together and then they needed to leave. 

Giving his head a shake, and taking a couple more deep breaths, he finally turned to his mate. She stood beside the bed, his duffle slung over her shoulder, the heavy weight of the pack hanging low against her hip. It almost dwarfed her. 

The moment his eyes met hers, he saw the fear there, only seconds later felt it down their connection. He had scared her… and that made him feel sick to his stomach. Disappointment flooded his mind, his nerves, and he slammed a wall down over their connection. She didn’t need to feel that. Grinding his teeth, he took a step toward her and watched as she took a tentative one backwards, causing her knees to brush the edge of the bed. 

He bit his tongue and lowered his gaze before nodding lightly, silently. He schooled his features into the ones he’d used before meeting her, before . 

Keeping his eyes away from hers, he stepped forward and slipped the bag off her shoulder. Somehow doing so without even brushing his fingers against her. He heard Stayrus whine in his head then, he didn’t need to shut down emotionally… but that was what he chose to do. 

‘I scared her, Stayrus… I did. I never wanted to scare her. You saw the way she looked at me, I may as well have hit her.’ His wolf quieted after that. If doing this also kept his rut at bay, then so be it.

He stepped towards the main door, knelt down to pull on his knee high leather boots and turned to half face her. Keeping his tone even, “We’re running out of time. Let’s go.” 

He didn’t wait for her, as soon as the words were out of his mouth– he turned, opened the door and walked out. 

—

It was killing him already to feel so separated from her. He knew she felt it when he’d cut off their connection. He knew this must be so confusing to her, not only that… she must feel like he was rejecting her. 

He was seated on the Harley when he saw her trudge through the main doors of the building. Those squealing sliding doors gave her away. Unbidden tears sprang to the corners of his eyes when he saw just how torn apart she looked. Her arms tightly wound around her middle, her hair hidden beneath the hood of the hoodie. He breathed a shaky sigh, this was going to kill him. Her pheromones were everywhere, but so were her emotions. Leaking into the atmosphere around him just like the now subtle scent of her impending heat. 

Stayrus had been blissfully silent, but as he watched her approach he could see she was talking with Siri, even from beneath her hood, he could tell and then her eyes flashed red and he knew where his wolf was. Group chatting with his mate… wonderful. He knew that if he tried to explain this situation to her, he’d break down. Tear down the barrier he’d placed between them, take her then and now. He only hoped that Stayrus and Siri could explain it enough where she didn’t feel like he was betraying their bond, and rejecting her. 

That was the last thing he was doing, or wanted. 

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he silently handed her her helmet. He ground his teeth together as he watched how mechanically she took the glossy black protection and slid it over her head.

Without thinking, he reached out. Tipping her head up as he fastened the clip under her chin. It’d been an automatic response, but when his fingers brushed over the curve of her throat, he felt his body respond to the heat of her skin. His back twitched and he gasped. Fucking Hells… This was going to kill him. 

As the speakers kicked on and the bluetooth walkie-talkies connected, he heard her voice. Soft and almost lost say, “Thank you.” Sighing, he reached behind him to fold down the foot pegs for her to maneuver herself up and onto the bike. When he felt her small hand grip his shoulder, he froze, but remained in place as she hefted herself up and over, straddling her thighs on either side of him, causing yet another coil of heat to curl within his gut. 

“Hang on, sweetie.” He rolled the bike backwards, and when he was sure he could make the U to get back to the highway, he geared the machine and rolled the accelerator, her arms sliding around his waist as they sped forward. 

Once out on the open road, Sylus let his mind wander. Trying not to focus on his little Omega seated directly behind him. Her little arms tightly hugging him, the soft breaths he could hear through the com system. The pressure of her chest against the surface of his back. 

Instead, he retreated further into his mind. 

Sirius’ words coming back to him. Does she know? Had Stayrus told her? 

There’d been many reasons why he had wandered this way as a loner and rogue. He loved the west coast, and Liam’s pack had been just north of one of the western most cities. From his vantage on the property his father and he had visited long ago, one could easily see the shocking deep blue color of the ocean. The calm serenity of it, just watching the waves lick the shore. The silence of the night on that pack land. There was very little, or no smog in the atmosphere and one could see the beauty that filled the sky. Every dot of light, every star. The milky way, bright and majestic as it stretched over the expanse above. The glowing auroras on Liam’s land far surpassed the ones he’d seen on his father’s. 

He’d seen the Ashmourn twins exactly once, and only in passing. Being three years younger than he was, he’d seen them flit down a hall while he and his father were conversing with Liam about how things on the pack lands were going, a truly dull conversation- hence why Sylus had seen the girls run by. One with white blonde hair, while the other had golden blonde was what had caught his attention as they streaked by, giggles and laughter following them down the hallway. Followed closely behind by their mother, a beauty of a woman. Tall with braided blonde hair and sharp dual colored eyes, one a sky blue- the other a striking emerald green. Alpha Liam introduced her as Vivica Ashmourn. She bore an alarming reflection to his mother, and only after asking did Sylus learn that she was in fact related to his mother, her third cousin on her father’s side. That information had mattered little to him at the time.

It’d been before he presented when his father first took him to see the Ashmourn Alpha. Sylus had known there was a reason behind the visit, though his father had never told him, at least… not until the man was on his deathbed, taking his remaining breaths. 

Liam was an Enigma. The only one of his presentation, for there could only be one at any given time in the world. Sylus had later learned his father’s thoughts that if he hadn’t felt the bond with Aurora, that the old man had hoped that he would find love with one of Liam’s daughters, to strengthen the legacy, the blood line. Much like Sylus’ mother had done when she mated Aksel , his father. Liam had explained the situation where he had presented as the Enigma. 

It’d been several years since he initially presented as an Alpha, he’d presented early at the age of eight. It was his thirty-third birthday. After looking after his pack, after finding his mate, and siring his daughters. He’d woken up one night in what he felt like was an average rut. He’d mentioned how it had come on early, or so it seemed. His mate did her due diligence in trying to alleviate his body’s needs and desires, but he said that she even knew something was amiss about the entire event. 

He’d said how their cycles had been synced for more than a decade. That as she helped him through the ordeal, how it wouldn’t seem to cease. He had to remain secluded in a room in their house that had been fortified and armored to protect the girls and his mate because of his aggression and mood swings. 

Sylus learned that Liam strongly believed that the Goddess had chosen him as the Enigma, and that he’d done some research into that presentation, only finding that there hadn’t been many written or visual accounts in the last hundred years. Liam had presented as the first documented Enigma in over a century. 

It was when Sylus had asked the question of why his father had brought him to meet Liam that Sylus learned something else. His father had it in his head that the next Enigma– was him . 

As he thought about all of that now, with the littlest of the twins, his and an omega, clinging to him on the back of his bike. After the experiences and the knowledge that he’d learned. He never expected things to turn out this way. For fate to not only bring most of his father’s words to fruition, to also find a mate within one of the Ashmourn girls, especially after Aurora. 

Everything that had transpired between Liam and Sylus’ father seemed like a fever dream now. They’d been friends, the two men… Liam and Aksel. Though Sylus could never understand how and why his father got it in his head that his son was the next Enigma, had he known something then? There could only be one in a lifetime, had he known that something was going to happen to Liam? If so, how?  

Giving his head a shake, feeling the helmet sway slightly from the movement, his mind focused back on reality. His eyes flitted over the passing scenery– he’d zoned out, but managed to follow the traffic, and road laws without issue as he’d driven. He could feel the warmth of Ori pressed up against him, though the pressure of her head laying heavily against his shoulders told him she was asleep. Looking down, he noticed that she’d tied the ends of her sleeves together around his waist as a ballast to keep her in place and upright. He was thankful he’d gotten the backrest to the passenger seat last minute after having the bike fully customized. The backrest itself would keep her on the bike as it almost hugged around a person’s hips and lower back while riding. 

Sighing, he looked down at the gauges and saw he was already getting low on fuel. Checking his six, he switched on the blinker, shoulder checked and eased into the left lane. A station that didn’t look too busy was in view, and he wanted to get it over with now, before needing to worry about it later. 

He was preparing himself mentally for the onslaught of Omega pheromones as he turned into the lot, and up to one of the six pumps. He rarely glanced at prices, but somehow found himself doing so now. The prices had gone up, drastically, since that little gas bar in the boonies. 

He tapped on Ori’s knee as he folded the kickstand out, “Sweetie, hey…” He rubbed a hand up and down her knee and thigh, “Ori~” He sing-songed her name through the mic. Hearing the soft sound she made as she woke up, he felt a part of the wall he’d put up between them melt a little. 

“Mmn, Sy?” He felt her head lift off of his shoulder and the momentum of her head swinging from side to side as she looked around. “Where are we?” 

“Just stopping to top up, sweetheart.” His resolve to stay cold and distant shattered the moment he heard her voice. She was by far the most adorable little kitten right after she woke up. Making little squeaks and soft mewling noises as she stretched and rolled her shoulders. 

“Think you can balance while I fill her up?” He asked, untying her sleeves from around his waist. He knew the hoodie probably would be stretched a little now, but he no longer cared. As long as she was comfortable, that’s all that mattered. 

He felt her nod, the jaw of the helmet smacking him on the shoulder as she swayed slightly, making him chuckle, “Really? You sure?” He swung his right leg up and over the windscreen, before swiveling left on the leather seat to look at her. 

She was leaning heavily on the backrest, even though it only came up to just below her mid back. Her visor had been pushed up half way, and he could see her eyes. Blinking slowly as her head bobbed and swayed in little increments from side to side. 

“I’ll be…” She suddenly yawned, making his eyes widen slightly as they followed the motion of her mouth from inside her helmet, “...fine.” she finished after her mouth snapped shut. 

He smirked, “I’m sure I can get you something to help wake you up while we’re here. Would you like that, kitten ?” The new nickname fit her, he realized. Deciding right then and there that he’d start using it more often, even though he was sure Sirius and Ori would have something to say. 

Speaking of their wolf spirits, they’d been abnormally silent, absent even. He couldn’t feel Stayrus at all. Having finally formed their own cosmic bond, they were probably together… doing whatever it was that Spirits of their caliber did when they found their other half. Which, Sylus guessed, wasn’t very far off from what the shifter or human did when they found theirs. 

He focused on Ori again, seeing her still swaying slightly, but also nodding to his question. Obliviously, she seemed too tired to make a comment about the new nickname, but he was sure after a few times of using it, she’d eventually make a comment about it. 

“Okay, stay put. Try not to fall off, or I’ll buckle you down next time.” He gestured to one of the saddle boxes, where he kept a couple ratchet straps for mechanical use or if he needed something strapped down that was slightly bigger than one of the boxes or if he had a trailer hooked up. 

The softest giggle came through the coms, making him smile as he reached up to rest a hand on the top of her helmet. Stabilizing her head upright as she’d started to lean to one side. 

“I’m serious, kitten. If you fall off…” He moved his hand down to grip the edge of the helmet, forcing her to look at him, the motion jarring her awake a little more. When he was sure he had her attention, he smiled, “...I will tie you down, and I will spank you . Got it?”

He saw her eyes widen, and a spark of defiance and if he wasn’t mistaken challenge flashed over those blue iris’, but she only nodded in response. “O- okay.” 

Releasing her, he noticed that she was indeed far more awake than she was barely a minute ago. He winked at her before turning to start the process of uncapping the tank, grabbing the correct dispenser nozzle and slotting it into the opening of the tank before pulling the trigger to start filling it. Unlike four-wheeled vehicles, a person needed to watch for the gasoline level in a motorcycle. Could spell disaster if there was an overflow– which he’d experienced before with one of his first bikes from years ago. 

Once that was completed, he reversed the process. Replacing the dispenser nozzle, before turning back to twist the gas cap back into place. He glanced up at her, and found her watching him; causing him to smirk, as she was no longer swaying. “Have you decided what you would like? Or would you like me to surprise you?”

“Coffee.” 

He chuckled, “Coming right up, kitten. ” Tossing her another wink, he unstrapped and popped open the box with the duffle and retrieved his wallet before closing it, locking it and turning to head into the building. He was about to pull open the door when he heard her call out from behind him. 

“Wait, did you just call me kitten ?” 

His only response was a boisterous laugh before pulling the door open and stepping inside. 

Inside the building, he took in the shelves of snacks and junk food. The small row of cheap condoms and bottles of lube. First aid and medical items. Racks of magazines of all types. Porn, vehicle, beauty, health, you name it. More tall spinning racks of cords for charging electronics, and sunglasses. 

Along the closest wall, pressed up against the front window was a thin white counter, situated behind that was a large counter with coffee and tea stations. Napkins, creamers and sugars of all sorts were bunched around those. 

Looking to his left, he found the cashier counter, small as it was, before further down had heating implements to keep the cheaper fresh (he used that term very loosely) foods like taquitos, hot dogs and pizza warm. Along the far wall was a long slushie machine with at least eight different flavors. Beside each side of the machine were tall racks with straws and lids. 

And, finally in the far corner beyond all of the shelving was what he was looking for. The cooler units. He’d taken a moment to stretch as he’d come in, scanning the building. He noted the cameras in each corner of the lit room, even though he was sure two of those weren’t meant to be easily seen. 

“Good afternoon, Sir!” Sylus nodded a greeting in response to the cashier’s call, before stepping around the last shelf, heading directly to the energy drink side of the coolers. Standing in front, he was sure she’d probably never even heard of some of these, let alone tried any. The contemplation had him with one arm crossed over his chest while the other bent to tap a finger against his temple. 

She’d said she wanted coffee… He thought to himself, running his thumb over his chin. Eyeing the contents of the freezer. He sighed at the meager choices before swinging the door open, the cold chill hitting him in the face as he reached inside, settling on a bottle of Starbucks Mocha frappuccino for her. He remembered them being decent. For himself he squatted down and retrieved a large can of green Monster energy. Typically he wouldn’t dare touch this shit, but today he was making an exception. They needed to get to his pack land, and fast.

With the drinks tucked under his arm, he proceeded back to the front of the store. Snagging a couple small bags of chips and a few chocolate bars. 

Stepping up to the counter, “Forty on pump,” he turned his head to look outside for the pump number but also to check on her. “Pump four.” The last word tapered off as he saw she was now standing beside the bike, arms crossed over her chest as her head was shaking furiously from side to side. 

His brows pulled together as the cashier rang him through and bagged his purchases before tapping on the screen a few times. “Will that be cash or credit, Sir?” 

Without looking, he pulled his card from his wallet and held it up between two fingers. He heard the cashier make a noise before punching something else on the screen, “Whenever you’re ready, Sir.” He tapped the plastic square over the machine, and immediately grabbed the bag upon the confirmation beep, not that he thought he’d have a problem. 

His eyes, narrowed and steely, were glued to the woman outside, what was happening? 

“Thank you, Sir. Have a good day.” Sylus couldn’t help but think that this guy needed a raise, alone in this building and still able to keep the customer service voice even though in the fellows eyes he’d noticed with one glance that the man was not having a very good day, if anything, Sylus could smell something off about him. He smelled sick, not like an immunity sickness… something else. 

“Thank you. You too.” Sylus quickly responded as he stepped towards the door. Normally he would get quickly annoyed by the tone of a person’s customer service voice, but this man… he didn’t want to make the man’s day worse, so he responded in kind. His mind was more focused on Ori than it was focusing on something like that anyway.

Once he’d shouldered his way out the door, he heard talking. Not her voice, but a man’s. His brows pinched together immediately. 

“C’mon, baby. Come have a good time with me!” Suddenly Sylus saw a hand reach out to grab her by the shoulder and everything in his vision pulsed into a layer of red. He felt the growling growing within his chest, and the palpable fear rolling off of her in waves. 

“I will ask you not to touch me, thanks.” He heard her voice say, strong. Without a beat of the fear he felt coming off of her. 

“Don’t be like that, doll. I could show you a good time.” Sylus saw her raise a brow in one of those smooth, attractive ways he’d seen her do when he’d first met her, and it caused him to slow down as he watched, but not stop. 

He heard her snort, the coms kicking in as he got closer. “Just a good time? Please , my boyfriend will wipe the floor with you for a good time. Back the fuck off, asshole.” Sylus had never been more proud of her in that moment. 

As he rounded the pump, he came up on the scene. A stout man with a beer gut hanging over overly tight jeans, tightened by a leather belt. A half tucked faux silk shirt, partially buttoned, showing off an obscene amount of chest hair mixed with sweat and upon closer inspection- crumbs. He looked like he’d walked straight out of Tiger King. Pathetically bleached, and permed hair hanging haphazardly out from beneath a torn and well used ballcap, with a color matched Orange County Choppers Paul Senior mustache that had exposed his chin, but swept down his throat in an unattractive way. 

Sylus wanted to laugh, this man clearly had just walked out, or had been kicked out of somewhere and needed an ego boost. 

Sylus had been standing within view for a solid moment, arms crossed over his chest, bag of snacks dangling off his elbow, a quizzical tilt to his brow as he just watched before Tiger King finally peeled his eyes off of her. Grating an already frayed nerve further. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Tiger King slurred, curling a hairy, sweat damp arm up to swipe over his top lip. 

Sylus tilted his head, looking down his nose at the pathetic excuse of a man. “I’m the boyfriend .” 

It was three words, but Sylus saw when Tiger King's alcohol-addled mind caught up. His down turned brown eyes widened and he stumbled back a step. Those eyes swept Sylus up and down, taking in the height, the bulk. Sobering enough to mentally do the math of how fucked up he’d be if he poked the proverbial bear further. 

“You can fuck off now.” Ori’s voice was still strong, but he could still feel the layer of fear entangled within her chest. So, Sylus did what any protective boyfriend would do. He stepped towards her, handed her the bag he’d slipped off his arm and placed himself between her and the asshole. 

Nodding back at her, Sylus let the disdain for the man drip heavily from his next words, “Yes, fuck all the way off, and then keep going. If you think you’ve gone far enough, you probably haven’t.” With one hand and four fingers, Sylus made the motion to back off. 

Tiger King scoffed, but didn’t argue. Grumbling under his breath, he stumbled backwards and turned away, disappearing around a copse of trees that followed a side road beside the station. Sylus shook his head and sighed, turning back to her. 

“He didn’t… try anything other than touch your shoulder, right? Are you okay?” 

Ori let out a shuddering breath before looking up at him through the visor, “Thankfully no. Thanks for coming to my rescue, again .” She reached out to take Sylus’ hand before giving it a squeeze. 

“Of course, I am your boyfriend after all, kitten. ” His smirk lingered as he saw her eyes narrow. 

“Why kitten ?” She completely disregarded the boyfriend bit and jumped straight to the nickname.

His smirk grew into a full smile, “Because you remind me of one.” 

“As a wolf shifter… I take offence to that.”

“That’s fine, kitten .” He leaned the forehead of his helmet against hers as he searched her eyes for a moment. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but after a moment, he watched a blush appear over the bridge of her nose and the portions of her cheeks he could see.

“Anyway! Now that that distraction has been dealt with! What on Earth did you buy? I thought you were only getting drinks.” She hefted the plastic bag up onto the seat of the bike before rifling through it. 

“I did.” He reached past her and retrieved the monster energy drink, watching as her eyes followed the massive can of liquid sugar and cavities with curiosity. “The other bottle is for you.” He reached past her again with his free hand and picked out the bottle of frappuccino for her. When she saw it, her eyes widened. 

She eyed the label for a moment before taking it from him, turning the bottle in her hands a couple times. “ This is coffee?” She paused, tipping her head to the side, confused. “Is it supposed to be cold?” 

He figured this would happen. 

“Here. Take off your helmet and try it. You might like it, if not– I’ll drink it.” He reached up to unclip the belt beneath his chin, lifting his helmet off with one hand before curling his arm through the visor and neck hole. Shaking out his hair after being in the piece of equipment for so long. 

As he’d been removing his, she’d removed hers in record time. 

“Eager?” He asked, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he watched her set the helmet down on the leather seat before picking up the bottle again just to twist off the cap. 

“Thirsty.” She responded, before tipping the now open bottle back against her parted lips. 

He popped open the can he still held and watched her experience her first cold coffee beverage. A smile appeared on his face as he watched her eyes get big, glowing with a childish delight. Before he knew it, he was reaching out to stop her from downing the entire bottle in one go. “Slow down, I can get you another one if you really want.” His chuckle made her blush. 

“Sorry, I just… I really liked it.” Her response was bashful as another blush crept up into her cheeks. 

“I could tell.” He grinned at her, tipping his own drink into his mouth. The almost too sweet flavor nearly undid him as he’d forgotten what these drinks tasted like. Strong and tart, pure sugar. The thought of Zayne loving one of these came to mind as he shook his head free of the buzz from the carbonation. 

He looked around momentarily, his senses picking up on a group of people coming down the same lane the drunk had gone down. This place must be the gathering spot for this area . He held out his hand with his drink, “Hold this. I’m gonna roll the bike so we aren’t so in the way.” 

She nodded, took the drink and held it below her nose to sniff. He bit his lip as she whipped her head away from the carbonated bubbles hitting her nose, either that or the intense sweet smell the drink itself gave off. “What the fuck is that, Sylus?!” Her voice was a pitch higher as she nearly shrieked. 

“It’s called an energy drink.” He said through laughter, leaning over the bike after he’d slid the stand back up, while pushing the machine forward and away from further prying eyes and attention. 

“Well, energy or not… that is foul. Is that even good for you? It smells like pure sugar.” She was following alongside the opposite side of the bike as he pushed, eyeing the can in her hand now with something akin to contempt.

“Given a chance, sweetie, that drink could probably melt your teeth.” He said, casually halting the bike near the curb and kicking the stand back in place. He wasn’t lying, he’d seen some of the videos people use the stuff for, and it was all shocking. The fact that so many put that junk in their bodies was astounding, but he couldn’t complain. Between him and Zayne, they used to indulge every now and again, just as he was now. 

“Why do you drink it then?” She asked, offering the can back to him as she leaned against the butt of the bike. 

“Habit, I suppose.” He took the can, but didn’t lift it to his mouth. He wanted to wait until the weird carbon sizzle over his teeth fully went away before taking another dose of the acidic beverage. “The group of males I hung out with, we all used to do stupid shit together.” He held up the can, “This included.” 

“Was your friend Rafayel a part of that group?” She asked, grabbing a bag of barbecue Fritos from the bag and opening it. Reaching her little hand into the opening before popping a couple pieces into her mouth. 

“Yes. He was.” He watched her eat, taking another small sip from his drink. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen them?” She asked, he didn’t think her question was meant to jab, but it did. He thought about it, far longer than he’d meant for, that was for sure. 

“A while.” He lowered his gaze as he leaned back against the bike, lowering the drink to hang listlessly at his side. “I hadn’t heard Raf’s voice in almost a decade before calling him the other day.” 

“What made you call him?” Her voice was curious, not in a prying way, just pure curiosity. 

“You.” He looked at her, seeing her confusion pull her brows together, a wrinkle forming between her eyes that made him want to lean over and kiss it away. “Your presentation, the fact that you would no longer be safe there. Another fact was that Stayrus had basically just confirmed certain emotions I’d felt… stirring. ”  

She contemplated his words for a moment, snacking slowly on the bag of chips. 

“Stayrus knew, didn’t he. Before you did. That, our souls were connected.” Sometimes her perceptiveness amazed him. 

“Yes. He did.” Sylus’ eyes fell to her lips for a moment as they parted on a heavy sigh. “Wolf spirits are more in tune with our souls than we know. It’s amazing, to be honest.” He gave her a soft smile when she looked back up at him. 

She snorted, “They’re also cryptic as fuck .” 

He couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped him before he answered, “That they are, kitten.”

He glanced up as a gaggle of girls rounded the corner of the copse of trees. Their giggles and raucous chatter cut off as their eyes drifted and caught sight of him. Oh Gods… here we go.

“ Oh my fucking God, Trina… do you see that guy?” Sylus shook his head as they all started tittering and commenting about him in hushed voices. Sometimes he hated his enhanced senses. 

“ Holy , walking sex idol!” Another girl commented. Followed by, “Look at the size of him, do you think he’s packing?” Oh for fucks sake. Sylus took another sip of his drink and rolled his eyes, glancing down at Ori, who had her eyes locked on the crowd of simpering women as well. 

“Ori~” He sing-songed her name like he’d done earlier to wake her up, and when he saw her turn her head before her eyes, he knew they should probably get going sooner than later. He was beginning to lose the battle of senses as her pheromones had begun filtering through the area, thick and heavy. “Do you need to use the little girl’s room before we go?” 

Her eyes finally focused on him as the group of girls sauntered into the convenience store. “Is it inside the building or outside?” 

He looked back at the building and saw the side door, Thank Fuck. He pointed out the door to her and could visibly see, and even feel the rolling annoyance beat off of her. She wanted to go in… He smirked down at her and grabbed her wrist as she took a step. “Ori… I’m yours , remember? You don’t have to worry about them.”

Her eyes met his and he felt her relax at his words, “Doesn’t change the fact that they didn’t even register I was here.” She inhaled hard through her nose, “If I come out of there… and they’re over here, I will not hesitate to fuck a bitch up.” 

His jaw popped open in shock as she pulled free of his hand and walked to the washroom. Fuck she can be feisty… He swallowed heavily, why was that so bloody attractive? 

He watched her the entire way until she disappeared through the side door. Flashbacks of the gas bar where they nearly ran into Caleb came back to mind. He hoped to the Goddess that this bathroom was in better condition than that biology experiment.

It didn’t take long for the group of girls to appear once Ori had left. Sylus sighed as one of them tore away from the pack and headed straight for him. He’d swallowed back another mouthful of the monster before tossing it in the nearby trash bin that he’d parked near. Please, dear gods, take no for an answer. 

“Hey, handsome.” The girl said, walking directly up to him, throwing him off a bit from her boldness. “Never seen you around here before.” 

Sylus queried a brow at her, “I would think not.”

He knew how women perceived him. He heard their comments regularly, although not recently– with being out in the wilderness searching, and more recently finding Ori. He inwardly cringed as he caught the scent of this girl’s arousal just from his voice. Of course. 

“Would you like the stick around? Hang out for a bit? My sisters and I are having a party tonight, if… you’d like to join us.” Oh, wonderful– college sorority girls. Yeah, no thanks. 

“No.” He deadpanned. 

She seemed taken aback by his blunt response, “Uh, excuse me? Come on, I promise you won’t regret it.” 

He smirked and shook his head, a wave of annoyance bubbled within his chest at the girl’s tone, eyes flickering up to see Ori watching from afar, leaning against one of the pumps with her arms crossed. “Look, I’m sure you’re not used to hearing the word, but I said no . So, you can leave anytime.” 

“What the fuck , asshole.” She spun on her heel and stomped like a petulant child back to her sisters . “Come on, he obviously doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He watched all of them turn at once, their eyes falling on his mate, who was just smiling. Her eyes daring them to try something. 

The one that had approached him glared daggers at Ori, which itched a nerve, but he held off from snapping and just watched his mate, seeing what she would choose to do in this situation. He didn’t really care what she did, he’d haul her off the little princess if he had to. 

He nearly snorted when they all broke eye contact with Ori at once. Sniffed, and turned their noses in the air like the haughty, entitled bunch they were and stomped off back from where they came. He breathed a sigh of relief as their repulsive perfume and scent of entitlement went with them. 

Ori’s pheromones on the other hand were running on max, nearly choking him with the need to drag her back to that bathroom and fuck her until she screamed his name. He felt his body respond in kind to that idea, and adjusted accordingly to ease the tension at the base of his spine. Fuck… I might need to use that bathroom.  

“No was definitely a new concept for her, and probably the rest of them too.” Ori said, her tone coming out like a cat that got the cream. 

He smirked and tried to take short breaths, attempting to calm himself before he grabbed her and folded her over the seat. Of course she’d notice, he’d lowered the wall between their bond the first time he’d gone into the convenience store, and now she could feel everything he was experiencing. 

How he was rock solid underneath the black satin shorts he wore, how he wanted to fuck her right there and then, how he could smell her arousal even though she wasn’t meaning to be aroused. How his need was beginning to overpower him. 

She stepped towards him and took his hand, giving it a squeeze before she pulled him towards her. In his moment of shock, it took him an extra second to realize she was dragging him back towards the bathroom. Oh, fuck… He blinked and swallowed. 

“ Orien.” He made a point of emphasizing her name in a dull warning, his voice dipping into a gruff baritone. 

“Let me help you, Sylus. You clearly need it.” She made a point of glancing down when she’d said that. 

“Just… give me a minute and I’ll calm down, we need to get going.” He rasped, swallowing around the desert that his mouth had become. 

She hauled him in front of her, perching him in front of the open washroom door. Her head tilted as she looked directly up at him, her hands slipping from between his fingers before sliding like a feather up his arms, his shoulders, his clavicle and up his neck, making his mouth part on a gasp. 

“Do you trust me, Sylus?” She whispered and shoved him, not painfully, but hard enough to make him stumble backwards, into the bathroom. Eyes wide, pupils dilated and lips parted. 

Ω   ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶  Ω

Ori

Ω   ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶  Ω

He was so adamant as soon as I had him in that washroom. Thankfully much cleaner than the previously experienced one. 

“Ori, you don’t have to do this– what if I can’t stop? What if it causes my rut to start? I don’t want to spend the next week in a roadside convenience store bathroom!” His cheeks were flushed and the tent at the front of his shorts told me everything I needed to know. 

Sirius had explained to me as we left the hotel this morning that my pheromones were affecting him, and even if I got emotional, they would get worse. I had tried all day to try and remain aloof and calm while we rode. Eventually falling asleep from how hard I was concentrating. 

His gentle touch had surprised me after how shut down and almost rude he’d acted at the hotel. Both Stayrus and Sirius had been in my head, full of reassuring words and reasons for why Sylus would act like that. When I started blaming myself, they both told me that our cycles were nothing to be faulted over– that they both were perfectly natural. The biggest thing that Stayrus had mentioned, and Siri had vehemently agreed upon was that until I bore Sylus’ mark– my pheromones would drive him, and potentially any other unmated male within a certain radius absolutely feral. 

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, so I’d done everything I could to keep myself in check, and just hoped I’d succeed for the rest of the trip. 

I hadn’t expected to stop at another gas station. I hadn’t expected the asshole who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and I certainly wasn't expecting the posse of girls to infiltrate my mate’s personal space. Sure, I’d watched his reaction to the one who’d broken from the group and approached him, even after he’d told me that he was mine. 

I didn’t expect to feel the wave of jealous rage that weighed down on me, and inevitably set off my pheromone levels too high. I’d seen it when they’d hit him. Watched his reaction and felt it through the bond he’d opened again at one point. 

Closing the washroom door and flicking the lock in place, I turned to face him. He’d pushed himself into the furthest corner, almost cowering. His eyes were worried, and lined with moisture, causing them to shine brilliantly in the dull light glowing from above the sink. I lowered my voice, asking him again, “Do you trust me, Alpha ?” The moment his title left my lips, I saw some of his resolve falter. 

“ Fuck , Ori…” His hands came up to comb through his hair, “you’re going to destroy me, sweetheart.”

I smiled at him, “I mean, only if you’ll let me.” 

I held out a hand, palm up; and waited. When his eyes just stared at my hand, I sighed softly before taking a slow step towards him. “This won’t just go away , Sylus. Will you please let me help you?” 

His eyes swept up to mine, those crimson iris’ burning with nearly unfettered desire as he slowly, oh so slowly, reached out and pressed his hand against mine. He seemed to be considering all of what I’d been saying to him, and I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “I– I do trust you, Ori… I’m just panicking about this. We should really wait until we’re on my pack lands ....” 

I tipped my head, a smirk pulling the corner of my mouth up. “Who said we needed to have sex?” His brows knit together, and only when I had positioned him in front of the sink, I dropped to my knees. Making those same brows nearly hit his hairline. 

“Omega… ” His tone was a warning, an attractive one spoken through clenched teeth. 

I reached up, keeping my eyes locked on his, my fingers brushing over the solid ridge of his bulge. He’d been in control last night, but tonight, I could see he was teetering on the edge of his control. His hands had retreated behind him to grip the rim of the sink, his knuckles nearly white from how hard he was holding it. 

Leaning forward, I brushed my mouth over the swell of his cock from above those satin shorts, and watched as his chest heaved as he started panting. “Ori, fuck – please baby…”

My body responded to his plea as I felt a wave of hot moisture gather between my legs. I begged my body to back off a bit, I wanted this about him, not me. 

Creeping my fingers up over his thighs, his hips and along the visible section of his V line, I nuzzled my cheeks over his bulge. Relishing in his reactions, and the way I could feel his cock twitching and jumping underneath the fabric. 

Slowly, I curled my fingertips over the edge of the waistband, easing them and his boxer briefs low enough for him to spring free, hard and long enough to slap back up against his lower stomach. The head was narrow, a deep shade of vermilion as a bead of precum oozed from the dimpled opening. The dorsal vein was thick, and swollen on the underside, pulsing as the blood flow increased from his need. 

I hadn’t had a moment to appreciate him when we’d had sex, so I took my time while I had the chance. The shaft itself was thick, and long. If I fisted my hand, I didn’t think it would hold the same circumference as the shaft of his cock did, he was that big. How did this fit inside me?

My mouth filled with saliva as my eyes met his again, he was biting his lip as he waited. I’d never done this to anyone, not even with… No , you’re here with your mate, don’t think of that place. 

When my fingers inched up to wrap around the thick girth of him, he hissed in a breath through shuttered teeth; his head tipping up while his eyes fluttered shut. “And you say I’m responsive.” I smirked up at him through my lashes as I angled myself and him closer, parting my lips to let my breaths fall over his flushed skin. 

He released a sharp breath as he chuckled, “You a-are. ” He released the edge of the sink with one hand, bringing it forward to cup my cheek as his starstruck crimson iris’ met my blues. 

“We’ll see how responsive you are when I have my head between your legs, kitten. ” 

I smirked up at him before pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of his cock, feeling the smear of the warm sticky precum over the plush of my lips. He shuddered, his hips twitching as he obviously repressed the urge to rock forward. 

“Tease .” He gasped out through wet panting breaths. 

I eyed him through my lashes again, parting my lips and pushing my tongue out to drag over the underside of him. Right over that sensitive vein that connected the shaft to the head. I kissed him from the base all the way up before kitten-licking into the dimpled tip, tasting the salt of his precum for the first time. 

“Just have to live up to this new nickname of mine, don’t you know. Cats are notorious teases.” I winked up at him. 

He groaned, the hand he had against my cheek moving to comb through the hair on the crown of my head. “You’re killing me, kitten .” 

I repeated the lick to the indent at the tip before circling my tongue over the mushroomed top, “I guess I’ll have to kill you slower then.” Winking up at him again, I parted my lips, and drawing back my teeth, I sucked him into my mouth. 

Keeping my eyes locked on him, his head fell back as he faced the ceiling, a long, low drawn out moan escaping him as he sunk in further, inch by slick inch. I’d never tested if I had a gag reflex, but as I took his cock deeper and deeper into my mouth, I quickly realized that I didn’t have one. 

“ Fuck, baby. ” He tipped forward to look down at me again, his mouth hanging open as I pushed him down my throat. “You don’t have a gag reflex? O-oh f-fuuuck.” 

Breathing through my nose, I sucked in my cheeks and wrapped my tongue as best as I could around the thickest part of his shaft. Pressing the wet organ up the length of the underside. 

The hand in my hair tightened and I felt his hips begin to rock forward, pushing the last of his shaft past my lips. Tightening my throat around him, I swallowed, and the sound he made nearly had me cumming on the spot. It was a choked sound combined with the most sultry, pathetic moan I’d ever heard. 

As I felt my throat ease into his size, I took a deep breath through my nose and looked up at him. I could feel a strain in my jaw, causing a sheen of tears to form over my water-lines, but I didn’t care. I want to please him, and focus on him.  

Pulling back slowly, I retreated until the swollen head of his cock sat solid and pulsing against the flat of my tongue. He shivered, before I sunk down quickly, hearing the heated squelch of my saliva coating his shaft as I pushed back down my throat. I kept up that rhythm, seeing how his body responded, and feeling just how much he was loving this down the bond. 

There was something about giving pleasure that had my body coming undone. Seeing the pleasure on his face, feeling it down the bond and in my mouth as his cock twitched and bucked in my mouth as I repeatedly bobbed over him, using my tongue and even, as lightly as I could, using my teeth over his length– causing him to cry out. 

I didn’t have much experience, but I felt like I was doing something right as I felt his hand pull my head forward, his back arching forward as his head fell towards me. His hair draped almost elegantly over his forehead as I felt his cock swell before tasting him on my tongue as he exploded into my mouth, down my throat. He tasted divine. There wasn’t a thing on the planet I could compare the taste of him to, all I knew was that I swallowed everything he gave me, sucking, licking and bobbing my head in that continued rhythm until he was gasping for me to stop. 

When I did pull back, I released him with a lewd pop before sitting back to look up at him while I licked my lips. My jaw was a little sore, but similarly to how I felt this morning, manageable. 

He was still panting, leaning almost languidly against the counter. Eyes shut for a moment as he regained his composure. When he opened his eyes, our colors met and I smiled at him. He exhaled shakily before reaching down to grip me under the arms and haul me off the floor. He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me high enough that my feet dangled off the floor. (Not a difficult feat.) 

He looked at me with wet, adoring eyes for a mere moment before he leaned his head in and captured my mouth with his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned his kiss with as much fervor as he gave me. 

When he pulled back, he was gasping for air just as hard as I was, leaning his forehead against mine, he whispered, “What did I do to deserve you? You’re perfect .” 

I smiled, “You lived .” 

He seemed so much more at ease once we cleaned up, and returned to the bike. At first he was concerned someone might have stolen the vehicle, but when we returned everything was surprisingly still there and intact. Thankfully.

He seemed back to his lighter, buoyant self. Singing random tunes he’d called earworms , as he drove. I laughed and commented on each of them as he sang them, saying how odd, catchy or even horrible some of them were. 

We drove through the night. We passed by three cities, one he’d called a capital, before he tapped my knee and pointed to a far off glow on the horizon. 

“There, see that, kitten? ” When I caught sight of what he’d pointed at, I nodded against his shoulder. “That’s my territory.” 

 We’d crested a hill as we approached a town he’d said had over half the population as shifters, while the remainder were humans who knew, didn’t care and had lived peacefully amongst our kind for several generations. The idea of humans and shifters living in harmony had a smile curling my lips. 

At one point, clinging to his back, I looked up at the sky and saw a shooting star just before we entered city limits.. 

“Sylus! Make a wish.” I said, rubbing a hand across his chest, resting my palm over the spot where I could feel his heartbeat the heaviest. 

I heard him chuckle through the helmet, “I don’t need to, sweetheart.” His left hand came down to rest over mine. “It already came true.” 

Ω   ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶   Ω

[delucadarlingwriting]

16 - barbie and felix pls!

😭I love Barbie and Felix. I do imagine their trajectory relationship-wise is...not strictly in line with how the romance goes canonically. I love canon, don't get me wrong, but I love to play with it even more.

Anyway, I'm throwing this in the AU I have with @crownleys where her MC Kira is the detective and Rebecca's kid, Barbie's been working for the Agency for a while and is in her mid-to-late 30s, which causes her a bit of friction with romancing Felix. They're in pretty different places in life and it's a struggle to get on the same page.

***

Felix/Barbie: 16 nose kisses

Wayhaven, post-book 3, a sunny beach several hours away from town

It’s been a few years since the last time Barbie was able to lay out on warm, sandy beach. She settles in on her stomach on her fluffy beach towel, using her arms as a cushion for her head. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore, gulls calling out, and children playing creates a lovely melody just for her enjoyment.

“I don’t supposed you’d need help putting sunscreen on?” Felix asks. Barbie lifts her head and her sunglasses to look up at him. The youngest of Unit Bravo’s team stands tall and proud, wearing a very loud pair of neon colored board shorts. No shirt.

Swallowing hard, Barbie says, “What are you doing here?”

“Wow, what a warm welcome,” he pouts, crossing his arms. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Barbie bites down on her lower lip to hold back a smile. “Of course I am, Felix. Just surprised. I thought everyone would be busy what with Kira’s training at the agency and everyone else doing…patrols and paperwork and such.”

“Ugh, yeah.” Felix flops down on the sand beside her, scooting close until he’s under the shade of her umbrella. He flashes a toothy grin. “That’s why I volunteered to come keep an eye on you.”

Barbie nearly rolls her eyes, but considering she’s still wearing a few bruises from that awful auction, she refrains.

“So I’m an excuse to get out of work, and you’re upset I wasn’t happier to see you?” Barbie arches an eyebrow, feeling a pang of genuine disappointment.

“Aw, Babs, it’s not like that,” Felix says. He wiggles so he’s laying out beside her, unbothered by the sand covering his skin. “You know how I feel about you.”

Yes, she knows exactly how he feels. He’s made it abundantly clear many times. The real trouble is her own feelings. She looks down and toys with a loose thread on her towel. He’d been open about having a sweet little crush on her from the moment they met while working on the Murphy case. What he’d said before they went to the auction though. That really threw her for a loop and she hasn’t quite stopped looping about it.

“Your hearts beating really fast,” Felix says. She swats his arm.

“Don’t tease me.” She wets her lips, Felix’s eyes laser focus on the motion of her tongue. No doubt her heard how that made her heart skip a beat. “Felix, I…”

He reaches out to squeeze her hand and says, “No, don’t. Don’t say anything.”

She blinks. “You…don’t want me to?”

“Nah, not until you’re ready,” he says with a soft smile. “You know, if you ever are.”

“I think I will be,” she says. “But, Felix, you don’t have to wait around for me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He brings her hand up and kisses her knuckles, amber eyes sparkling brilliantly. The warmth of his soft lips on her skin makes her ever whirring mind come to an abrupt stop. God, she wishes she was ready now.

Felix would be so easy to fall in love with. She already does love him, on some level, but it’s not the same as what Felix has expressed. What he wants. He wants to be her boyfriend, to jump head first into commitment but…

But despite being a vampire with several decades on her, he’s so painfully young. And he won’t ever catch up to her. She’s already been married and divorced once. If she has another relationship, she wants kids from it. She’s ready to settle in, whether with someone else or alone. Would Felix ever be content with that, having his wings clipped before he’s really gotten to soar?

“I just want you to be happy, and I want me to be happy.” Mustering up a smile, she says, “If we can both be happy together, then that’s when I’ll be ready.”

Felix takes this in with careful consideration, for longer than Barbie expected he might. For Felix, this all seems to come so easily. He doesn’t understand why it’s complicated, why Barbie makes it complicated.

His thumb soothes over the back of her hand, and he says, “Sorry, Babs. I just still don’t see why you think we wouldn’t be happy. I mean, I know you’re eager to see about sexual compatibility but…That’s not the only reason, is it?”

Barbie blanches. Sex has been a very fraught topic, and Barbie had certainly drawn her line in the sand about it. It’s an important aspect of relationships for her, for life. After nearly a decade of bad sex with her ex husband, she’d sworn to never put up with it again.

“If you’re asking whether I’d be willing to date if we have sex first, then no,” Barbie says. Wincing, she adds, “And…I’m sorry I said that in the beginning.”

Felix gives her a weak smile. “It’s alright.”

She hadn’t known about Felix’s own hang ups when she’d first insisted on sleeping together before any kind of commitment, how he’d been left feeling used and abandoned by previous lovers.

They lay there for a while, hand in hand, listening to the ambience of the beach. A warm breeze runs through, washing over them with the scent of salt, seaweed, and…something sweet. Felix glances at her.

“Recognize that?” he asks. Barbie nods.

“Waffle cones,” she says.

“What’s that?”

Barbie sits up, eager to explain. “It’s a thin, sweet batter that’s pressed then molded into a cone. You usually put ice cream in them.”

“Oh! Yeah, I’ve seen those.” Felix sits up and dusts his chest free of sand, a motion Barbie tries really, really hard to not stare at. He catches her doing it anyway and gives her a smirk. “You want some?”

“Huh?” she asks, jerking her gaze back to his face. After what she just said about not only being interested in sex, she really can’t keep ogling the man. At least he doesn’t seem to mind, if the way he angles his body as he leans back is any indication.

“Ice cream?” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Barbie considers it. “Have you ever had it?”

“Once, and it was way too sweet,” he says, wrinkling his nose. Then he shrugs. “But you like it, right?”

“I love ice cream.” Barbie reaches into her bag and tugs out her wallet. “I’ll get you one as well, if you want to try again.”

“Nah. Let me get it though,” he says. Barbie arches an eyebrow.

“Do you have a wallet?” she asks.

“I do,” he says, but as he pats his pockets, his expression goes sheepish. “Uh, back at the warehouse.”

She giggles and slips a few bills from her wallet and hands it to him. “Mint chocolate chip."

He gives her a wink and a salute (with the wrong hand), then darts off in the direction of the sweet smell. Barbie chuckles, noting that there are a few children all heading in the same direction with money clenched in their fists. No doubt on the same mission.

She settles back in and takes a moment to let her mind settle as well. Oh Felix. If they’d met when she was younger…But Felix wasn’t in this world back then. Maybe the timing would never be right for them, no matter what. That’s just not fair. Barbie would be okay with knowing love isn’t in the cards for her, but having Felix so determined that he wants to wait for her, putting so much into his feelings isn’t right.

No. She won’t let him waste his time, waiting around only to be left broken hearted. Even if it means maybe she won’t get exactly what she wants. Compromise has never been easy for Barbie, but Felix is worth it. He seems to think they can both be happy, at least. Maybe she can trust him enough for that.

As she’s still in the midst of trying to make things work in her head, Felix comes back. She moves so they can both sit on the towel, grimacing when he tries to hand her the ice cream cone. Long, green rivers of ice cream are dripping down the entire thing.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know they would melt so fast.”

“I’ve got it,” Barbie replies, taking his wrist delicately and leaning in to suck at the melted liquid at the top of the cone. Felix’s eyes are wide when she sits back and takes the cone. At least, she tries to take it. He pulls it out of reach when she does.

“I can keep holding it,” he says. When Barbie gives him a look, he waggles his eyebrows. “What, it’s a good look on you.”

“Didn’t I say no teasing?” Barbie huffs. Felix bats his eyelashes innocently.

“Well, it’ll also keep your hands from getting sticky or dirty,” he points out. Barbie makes a considering noise.

“That’s true,” she says, tapping her chin. “Very well. You can hold it.”

“Thanks so much, Babs,” Felix coos. Barbie rolls her eyes.

“I suppose you’d like a thank you as well,” she says. Felix brightens. She crooks a finger and, hesitantly, he leans forward. With careful movements, she presses a gentle kiss to the bridge of his nose. Felix sits back, a bit dumbfounded.

“I was definitely expecting something different,” he admits.

“Disappointed?” Barbie asks before grabbing his hand to get another taste of her ice cream. Felix laughs.

“Nah Babs. Never with you,” he replies.

Despite it all, Barbie feels just the same.

[spankingwishes2-longerstories]

Happy "Birthday Spanks"!

It was a few months into our relationship when Allie introduced “birthday spanks” – not spankings in general, she hadn’t waited two weeks for that.  “Otherwise you won’t be as mature at 25 as I was at 15,” she’d claimed, and if this thrilling 28-year-old was going to date – and sleep with – a 23-year-old “girl,” as she referred to me, she said she needed to be free to “address” my behavior when it conflicted with her “expectations.”  The first thing I learned under her hand was the difference between being spanked for fun and being spanked for correction – she seemed to take equal satisfaction in each, while I developed a definite preference for the fun ones – and even some of those were a bit challenging.

My birthday fell on a Tuesday but she decided we needed to celebrate over the weekend, when we had a lot more time.   “How old will you be?  Twenty four?  Perfect for birthday spanks!” she crooned happily as we made our plans.  As a cocktail waitress she couldn’t afford to take both Friday and Saturday nights off so she opted for the later and we started celebrating early Saturday morning, though not with a spanking but rather a teasing unfinished bout of oral pleasure.  “That’ll keep your attention on me," she explained as she stopped with painful abruptness.  I knew from long experience that arguing – even begging – would prove fruitless.  With a delicious fast-food breakfast under our belts we headed up the river for some kayaking.  Allie couldn’t resist some over-the-top threats – “oooo, this is just what your bottom needs” – as she fondled the paddle but, noting my shocked concern, she quietly reassured me that “we’ll save the birthday spanks for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow was a long way off, however, and after kayaking there was more teasing (of the manual kind this time) and camp-style showering off, where she flashed me twice, not only her boobs but by bending over and pulling her swimsuit aside so that I could see right up her shorts.  She was guaranteed my constant attention just like she wanted.  After a trip to the house and  real, nearly chaste showers we grabbed some dinner at a fun little restaurant, very casual, then off to some dancing and drinking with some friends of mine where she hung all over me and made sure to convince them how sexy she thought I was.  She’d even arranged a designated driver (not hard in my crowd) so we could have a few drinks without worrying about it.  On her part, all the attention had her returning home ready to be fucked six ways to Sunday, which is what we did.

Sunday, therefore, I woke up to my birthday spanking, which I was by no means dreading.  She makes it clear when I’m in trouble and I wasn’t, so I had nothing to worry about.  Grateful for the lack of a hangover (I’m not an experienced drinker, even now) I climbed cheerfully across her lovely legs as she perched on the edge of the bed.

“How old are you again?” she asked and when I answered she said “Twenty four little spanks – and one to grow on!”  With that she began smacking me playfully – two swats in a spot, then alternating cheeks.  “Hap-py birth-day to you, hap-py birth-day to you…” she sang, accompanied by smack-smack smack smack smack smack.  “Happy birthday dear Taylor, happy birthday to you!  Perfect!  Twenty four and one to grow on!” she declared of her musical performance.  I must admit I was a bit surprised, if not disappointed, by this little affair, not that I complained and in any case it was quickly forgotten as she immediately began to see “what else I’d like for my birthday” that she could provide with her mouth.

I wasn’t surprised (and didn’t dare complain) when she didn’t finish this, either – no doubt she wanted my full attention today as well, even if it was our day to catch up on things around the house so we wouldn’t have to worry about them during the week.  Along with that, I suspected she might have some more spanking play in mind and doesn’t usually let me climax first.  Still, it can be difficult, having to hold back so we can play more later – sometimes I’d rather just finish and stop, you know?

I didn’t have long to wonder about her plans – as soon as I started to pull on some panties she said “No no no… no underwear.  We have lots more birthday spanks to get you.”

“Nice ones?”  I couldn’t help asking, even though I’m not supposed to.  I figured I might get away with it on my birthday.

“Have you been good all year?” she asked to my immediate panic.

“I like to think so,” I lied shamelessly – or maybe not shamelessly, exactly, since I quickly added, “Haven’t we taken care of things as we went along?”

“Most things – but a few always slip through the cracks, don’t they?  Still, I think we can manage at least half ‘nice.’”  This was little relief because I had a premonition of how many she had planned, and half of that number was still an awful lot of “not nice” ones.  Unless she meant each spanking would be half-nice…

While I didn’t find out immediately which she may have meant, my guess as to the count was soon confirmed, or nearly so.  We rounded up some breakfast and as I began to sit down Allie announced “Birthday spanks first!” as she offered me her lap.  My look of alarm led her to explain “We’ve got a lot to get through.  If it was only one an hour we’d be up all night and besides, we’d be way behind!”  She very cheerfully took me over her knee (sliding down my pants as she did so, revealing my panty-less bottom) and sang her birthday song again, tapping out my age (plus one) with sharp slaps to my backside.  This time I was appreciative of her brevity since she announced “Only 23 more chances.” (I hadn’t counted on a whole extra one “to grow on.”)  I also appreciated that she again wanted to see how ready she could make me using only her mouth though with my balls already aching I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through the day.

I won’t bore you with the repetition – though in practice it was anything but boring – we went from hourly in the morning to half-hourly later on.  Though I had to wait until Tuesday to get my “good girl” presents (all the sex I could handle, a couple of really nice tops, and a dozen coupons for “love on demand,” like a striptease, outdoors, and many unmentionable ones) but she said it just wouldn’t work to wait on my “naughty girl present” - a short over-the-knee strap with a wooden handle that turned out to pack a powerful sting.  Needless to say it was put to immediate if not extended use and she promised to keep an eye out for a chance to “give it a real workout.”

I soon had proof positive that Allie’s birthday song was not quite so happy when accompanied by a hairbrush.  She could make even a single rendition of the double-swat, four-swat sets really sting!  On top of that, my reactions just made her more anxious to deliver the next one.  I had made it almost to lunchtime with nothing but hard hand spanks, wondering if they all counted as “nice,” when Allie, or I should say, Ms. Allyson, announced that “now we’ll deal with a thing or two.”

The first issue that had slipped through the cracks, she informed me, was my tendency to look at other girls (her term, not mine).  “I’ll give you a choice,” she offered.”  “You can deny it and get the rest of your birthday spanks with the hairbrush for lying, or admit it, have it taken care of, and we’ll move on.”   I didn’t see where I’d come out ahead denying it, so my fifth birthday spanking of the morning left my eyes brimming with tears in only 24 swats. 

Previously I had comforted myself that there couldn’t be many unresolved issues from our first five months together, but this approach sort of blew that theory out of the water.  I got to choose between being jealous – or not being jealous – over the attention she got at the bar where she works (I chose jealous), for wanting to force myself on her when I watched her naked in the shower (guilty), and for thinking she was silly for crying at happy movies and for disapproving of some of her favorite get-ups, none of which had gotten me spanked when they occurred (though I was told I would be if (that is, when) they happened again).

I was pretty well aware that I’d been running ahead on the nicer spankings as we got into the evening and, with me almost babbling from all the edging, my lovely tormentor offered to finish up all at once.  I readily agreed and upon getting in position learned that I’d get two of each – the last two nice ones, two hard by hand, two with my present, and two with Allyson’s hairbrush.  She sang sweetly throughout, though I was long past ready to be through with that song.  She paused only to mention that the strap was meant to restore my focus after the hairbrush (unfortunately, I now know what she means – a hairbrush session broken up with the strap is not only longer but much more effective than an uninterrupted one).  And much as my butt throbbed from the day’s accumulated activities, she made it more than worth my while in every way we could think of.

After that day, whether she's being Allie or Ms. Allyson, she has referred to “a birthday spank” – such an innocent-sounding term, but meaning twenty five with the implement of her choosing and seldom in the singular.  A corrective spanking where she thinks we need to begin with “a few birthday spanks” gets off to a very difficult start indeed! 

A whispered “does my girl need a couple of birthday spanks?” is met with both a stout denial and angelic behavior – which occasionally even keeps her from delivering them.

[miu-the-moose]

❝Nanami takes a step forward. The distance between them is now so scarce that she has to tip her head upward to account for the height difference. She raises a hand to his face, cupping his cheek with her petal-soft palm. He breathes her in, memorizing the way she smells of marzipan and pink Starbursts.

“You’re not a disappointment or a waste, Komaeda-kun,” she avows in a low, half-exasperated whisper.

The sentence sends a tremor up Komaeda’s spine, and he restrains himself from pushing further into the softness of her touch like a needy cat.

“Such sweet praise, coming from someone such as yourself…” he trails off, momentarily distracted by the caress of lithe fingers along his jawline. “You shouldn’t waste it on no-good lowlife garbage like m—”

Komaeda’s oncoming tirade of flagellation is cut short by the touch of velvet-smooth, glossed lips on his slightly chapped ones. Shock and warmth flood his system, and he intuitively squeezes his eyelids shut, feeling caught off guard despite all preconceptions. The kiss all but trips a breaker in his head, and by the time it resets, Nanami has already pulled away.

“D’you remember what I said to you by the fountain during our sophomore year, right before Summer Break?”

Nanami’s abrupt question catches him by surprise. However, it isn’t long before the memory of a lazy Thursday afternoon floats to the surface of his murky mind:

“Most people don’t know this, but a big part of being a gamer is calculating the risk-reward ratio, and I’m positive being your friend has a greater reward than risk, Komaeda-kun.”

After months of keeping Nanami at arm’s length, hoping to distance her from his vortex of death and destruction, those words were a catalyst. They gave him the courage to let Nanami in.

“I remember,” his throat tightens, and he finds himself suddenly unable to meet his class rep’s intense stare. “Nanami-san, I—”

“You don’t have to respond to that, actually.” Nanami placates him, her hand migrating from his cheek to the side of his neck. “This is what I want. What about you, Komaeda-kun?”

He nods jerkily, not needing to give the question another thought.

“Alright, then.”

This time, he hears the smile in her voice and anticipates the incoming kiss.❞

—Whispers of “Are You Sure?” (Never Have I Ever Before)

[trohpi]

@regulily-microfic • september 6: fire • 933 words

cross-posted on ao3

It was stupid, really. Just an offhand, innocent offer of help with the laundry, and yet that was all Lily needed to explode.

There was no build up, no steadily rising anger. There never is. No, it’s always zero to one hundred, a spark to an inferno, and she has no idea why. Maybe she’s broken. It certainly feels like it.

A pit of guilt churns in his stomach at the memory of Regulus’ face, the frustration and hurt there. He must hate me now, he thinks. I’d hate me, too.

A knock on their bedroom door startles Lily from his spiral and he sniffles, quickly wiping at the tears on his face.

“Lily?” a gentle voice says on the other side. Regulus. Her heart aches.

There’s a shuffle, then a throat clearing. “I’ve put the kettle on.”

Lily’s breath hitches at the care in his voice, and that’s all it takes before she’s ripping open the door. Regulus blinks at the abruptness for just a second before his eyes settle on the form of his upset partner. His face falls slightly at the swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks, concern brimming in silvery grey eyes. Lily feels more tears welling in her own, and she bites the inside of her cheek to hold back a nasty flood of emotion.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks softly, and it was useless. All at once, the feebly-built dam breaks open with a sob.

“I’m sorry,” Lily chokes out, hands trembling.

“Darling.” Regulus reaches out to steady his hands, slender fingers cradling his own gently, delicately. Tenderly. He shutters, his chest aching.

“I don’t know why I got so angry,” Lily stutters through tears. “I don’t— I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

“Love.” A hand comes up to cup her cheek. She nearly flinches at the contact. It’s too soft, too loving, too much. More than she deserves.

“I ruin everything.” His voice is a near-whisper, thick with tears and tension. “I’m sorry I do that, I don’t know why I do that.”

“Lily,” he cuts her off with a firm voice, and this time she really does flinch. She’d been expecting this, of course. The anger, the disgust, the disappointment. Any negative emotion, really. After all, Lily is a fire. It was only a matter of time before Regulus got sick of being burned. She just… didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Not now, not yet.

“Lily,” he says again, voice softer now. “Look at me.”

Lily sniffles as he meets his boyfriend’s eyes, which are gentle and full of love.

“I don’t care that you got angry,” Regulus says, running his thumb along his partner’s cheekbone. “And I don’t care that you needed space. The only thing I care about is the fact that you yelled at me, but I also know you didn’t mean to. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Lily leans into his touch, sighing shakily. “I don’t know why I got so mad, and I’m so sorry I took it out on you.”

“I know, darling. It’s okay.”

“It’s not, though. Sometimes, it’s like a switch flips, and all of this rage that’s just…” He gestures vaguely in the air. “Simmering inside of me, all of the time, suddenly comes to a boil. I hate it.”

Regulus knows all of this already, to some extent. He’s been dating Lily for over a year, after all, and they’ve been friends for even longer. He’s seen her struggle with this more times than either of them can count, and yet he still wants to be with her. Lily has a hard time understanding why.

The hand on her cheek migrates to her hair, fingers running through the short locks of auburn. Lily sighs again. “I wish I wasn’t like this.”

“But you are.” It’s not said unkindly, but it still hurts just a bit. Regulus’ honesty can be brutal sometimes, but that is part of why Lily appreciates it so much. He is willing to cut the bullshit when no one else is.

“I know, I just—” Wish I was better for you. Wish I was better than this. “—Wish I was better at being in control of my own emotions.”

“You’re not gonna like this, but you could always try seeing a Mind Healer.”

He almost groans. They’ve had this conversation before, but Lily’s always shut it down. He doesn’t need a Mind Healer, his childhood was perfectly normal— the standard suburban Muggle family. Sure, his mother was a bit overbearing sometimes and his father a bit too lax, and there’s all the baggage with his sister, but nothing even close to what Regulus went through. No, Mind Healing is for people with real problems, not people like Lily.

But, Lily considers, perhaps it could be.

“I don’t know,” she mutters. “Maybe.”

Regulus’ fingers pause in their movements. “Maybe?”

“Maybe,” she confirms as she pulls back, wiping at the drying tears on her cheeks. “I’m just so tired of this. I’ll still feel stupid, like I don’t belong in a Mind Healer’s office, but I’ve tried everything else I can think of.”

“You’re not stupid for wanting help.”

“No, but I’ll feel stupid for needing it.”

“Just because you haven’t been through a major trauma doesn’t mean you have to be this perfect, undamaged person. You are allowed to not be okay, you know.”

“I know.” He smiles tiredly, reaching out to tangle their fingers together once more. “It’ll just take me a minute to believe it.”

Regulus squeezes her hand. “Well, I’ll be with you when you do.”

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : Available on Ao3

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

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Chapter 22: I'm sorry, this directory is encrypted

Chapter title is lyrics from "DIg It"

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Drip.

While registering that something had just connected with my face, I only felt annoyance – the urge to continue sleeping overriding any coherent thoughts about it, or the ability to question why something wet was running down my cheek out of nowhere.

Drip, drip.

My features shifted into a frown as even more droplets began smacking against my skin, causing my consciousness to swim back to me. Suddenly, the warm and solid body next to me was in motion, a hissing noise surrounding us, growing louder, more intense.

“Fucking hell.” Oli uttered, as the very abrupt downpour pelted us mercilessly, rudely interrupting my deep sleep.

While snuggled up last night in silence, we must have drifted off under the stars on the rooftop of the hotel. And now the weather had decided it was time for us to wake up.

We shot up quickly with a yelp, legging it towards the exit, trying to avoid getting completely drenched in the process.

But it was too late; we were soaking.

Our mutual panting echoed in the stairwell after Oli slammed the door shut behind us.

Eyes wide as saucers met mine as he leaned against the door, clearly also pumped full of adrenaline from being awoken so unexpectedly by the icy shower.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I shivered, and he quickly joined in.

“That’s one way to wake up.” He said before taking my hand and pulling me up against him, his arms wrapping around my waist. All of which would have been heavenly if it wasn’t for our cold and soaked clothes, plastered uncomfortably to our bodies.

Smiling down at me, his eyes had softened, and his wet locks had taken on a darker shade as they clung to his temple in little circlets.

“I had a nice time last night.” I said without thinking, feeling rather stupid, knowing the date hadn’t gone according to plan whatsoever. Yet despite starting off rocky, the sex and the long talk afterwards had been nothing short of incredible, leaving me with an odd sense of hope for the future. Which was strange considering the gloomy and uncomfortable topics. 

Thankfully it seemed the man holding me agreed with my statement.

“Me too.” He whispered before leaning in for an unusually chaste and short-lived kiss. Pulling away he uttered what had been on my mind as well, “I don’t know about you but I’d really like to get changed, this feels fucking horrendous.”

I huffed out a laugh, fighting my shivers, “Yes please, let’s go.”

Taking Oli’s hand I started descending the steps.

But he didn’t follow.

“Shit, my phone’s still out there,” he looked towards the fire door then back to me, “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Disappointment settled in me, having expected us to spend the morning together for some reason.

Which surprised me. Not just because of the expectation, but because I wasn’t overcome with panic at the mere thought of casually spending so many hours in a row with a man who had a romantic interest in me.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” I responded after a moment, trying not to let the disappointment be evident in my tone of voice. But when I attempted to let go of his hand, he held onto me. 

“One more thing,” he said, appearing slightly nervous, “can you start wearing underwear again?”

For some reason his question made me uneasy. 

I couldn’t tell if it was because of Mat – because of everything we talked about last night – or because he was trying to abstain from sex with me. It also made me worried that I’d done something wrong, similarly to how I felt last night when he’d been reluctant to open up about his nightmares – something I’d asked about twice now.

“Sure.” I finally settled on, not wanting to pry, not wanting to push him.

He visibly relaxed. Whatever the reason for his request, it was clearly important to him.

“Thank you.”

Letting go of my hand he took a deep breath before disappearing back out into the loud rain. I sighed deeply, trying my best to let go of the uncertainty our short morning interaction had brought on. Hoping it was just my anxious thinking patterns playing tricks on me.

Descending the steps, I made my way back to mine and Liam's room where a robed Liam was snuggled up in bed with a large sandwich in hand.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in–” He started teasingly, smiling from ear to ear, but confusion quickly claimed his features when he took in my appearance, “What the fuck happened to you, love?”

Laughing, I pointed towards the window, at the downpour outside, “We fell asleep on the roof.”

“With… Oli, I presume?” 

“Yes, with Oli.”

“Sorry it’s hard to keep track of all your lovers.”

The grin was back on his lips, but I just glared at him.

“I’ve only been on one date with Mat– and we only kissed,” I started but quickly remembered that’s not quite true, “Oh, wait, I guess I may have maybe also seen him cum...” I continued under my breath as I began digging around for my toiletries in a rush so I could disappear into the bathroom, feeling both embarrassment at my admission and surprised I had somehow momentarily forgotten all about that incident.

Liam, who had previously been lounging – relaxed as could be – shot up into a sitting position, looking stunned, “Listen, I was just joking around– you what!?”

“I’m gonna go shower.” I quickly mumbled before running off.

“Okay, but you better tell me everything afterwards!” I heard him yell as soon as I shut the door behind me.

When I came back out I was also wrapped up in one of the lush robes the hotel had to offer. Liam scooted over as soon as he saw me, patting the space next to him on the mattress, indicating for me to join him.

I paused, wanting to talk about everything that’s happened – maybe even get some advice. But I was nervous, still not used to talking about my feelings with others, and only really having opened up to Oli so far.

Only Oli, huh? Sounds like I’m getting pretty invested in him already.

Shaking the unpleasant and unnecessary thought out of my head, I instead walked over to the large tray of room service, filled with breakfast foods, attempting to avoid both my own mind, and Liam, all at the same time.

“Yay, you got bagels!” I said with a bit more enthusiasm than the ordinary food warranted, but Liam was having none of it. 

“For the love of god, Alice. You can’t leave me hanging like this.”

I took a deep breath.

Okay, I can do this.

Abandoning the plethora of foods for now, I made my way over to Liam and joined him on the bed, feeling like a pair of gossiping teens at a sleepover. 

While I left out most of the explicit details, Liam’s jaw was still on the floor for most of it. Once I came to the part about Fay I learned that Liam already knew of the love triangle, which made sense as he started working with them right after it all happened – right after Oli’s recovery.

When I got near the end of the story, in the middle of telling him that I’d developed feelings for Oli – that I craved the emotional connection with him despite my commitment issues – I realised how effortlessly everything had flowed out of me, how easy it had been to talk to Liam, and I wondered distantly if it was because Oli had inspired me, pushed me, opened up whatever part of me that I’d sealed shut so tightly for everyone else in my past.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Liam asked once I was done naming all the reasons I felt pressured into dating Oli and Mat at the same time; how all of this was happening too fast, at a time in my life when I felt so very lost.

“I think I have to see both of them until I can figure things out. It’s all just horrible timing though, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have to do anything, love – you don’t have to date either of them, but I’ll tell you this much; there’s no such thing as the right time.”

I frowned, knowing damn well this couldn’t be happening at a worse period in my life, “What do you mean?”

He paused, considering his words, “I think the universe has a way of pushing us when we need it most. So a lot of the time the right people will enter your life at the worst possible time, but if it’s meant to be then you will still manage to keep them around. Mostly because you will feel the urge to fight for it, to make it happen even when everything goes against you.” His sympathetic eyes grew questioning, “Do you feel any of that?”

I thought about it for a beat, recapping all the discomforts I had put myself through – and continued to put myself through – in order to cling onto the things I wasn’t ready to let go of, “I guess I do. I think I would’ve gone home by now if I didn’t.”

He smiled at me, “Well I’m very happy you’re still around, regardless of the reason.”

The talk had left me feeling lighter than expected, and with a lot less panic about the situation. Which thankfully made the prospect of running into Mat today a lot less daunting.

Or so I’d thought, until it actually happened.

A couple of hours passed and it was time to set off; to drive the two hours back to the venue and begin all the preparations for tonight's show. But once we were done packing the van up with the essentials for the gig, I realised I’d forgotten my bag in my room, so I ran along to quickly retrieve it.

I was locking the door behind me, holding my previously missing bag, when I saw the elevator doors starting to glide shut in the distance.

“Wait!” I yelled, sprinting down the corridor. I was incredibly grateful to see a hand appear on the door, holding it open for me. Once I got to the open elevator I was wearing a smile, ready to thank the kind stranger, but my smiling lips were quickly joined by wide eyes.

“Hi.” Mat said calmly, grinning at me as he held the elevator doors.

I knew I’d have to face him any moment now, but I’d been hoping it would’ve been in the van, surrounded by everyone else, effectively removing any pressure to hold a conversation. Instead it had to be in a claustrophobically small metal box, with just me and him.

“Hi.” I eventually responded before coming to stand next to him, facing the door, finding it nearly impossible to maintain eye contact after what happened last night; after he watched me melt from Oli’s fingers moving over my pussy, after spanking me.

I guess it’s only fair that we’ve both seen each other's expression when we’re deep in uncontrollable pleasure.

The tension between us was unbearable as the elevator moved from floor to floor, at a pace that convinced me the passing of time had been tampered with – now very clearly moving in slow motion. 

When there was only one floor left, Mat launched forward to press the Stop button, causing the elevator to halt with a jolt.

My heartbeat was already in my throat when he turned around to face me, giving me a stare that felt intimate despite the distance between us.

“I don’t want things to be awkward between us.” He sounded nervous.

“Me neither.” I quickly responded, even though I didn’t have a single clue how to make things any less awkward.

My response caused all of the evident nerves to promptly fade away from him. 

He took a step closer to me, some of the unreadable emotion from last night now on his features, “Spend tonight with me, at the club.”

Since we all had tomorrow off, the VIP section of a local club had been booked for all the bands that were performing tonight, as well as their entourage. Considering what happened at the last afterparty we went to, I had my reservations about even attending now when the Mat spanner had been thrown into the works. But since I was the designated driver I didn’t have much choice.

“I don’t know.” An involuntary smile tugged at the corners of my lips, feeling quite intrigued by this unexplored version of him.

He took another step towards me, slowly stepping into my personal space, “Cause of Oli?”

Something was different about him, he wasn’t usually this demanding, this intense – no, that was Oli’s domain. Mat was always the laid back one, the patient and polite one.

“Yeah.” I breathed, looking up at him as he pinned me with his unreadable eyes.

“You can spend time with him too.” His voice came lower, quieter, due to our close proximity.

The eye contact that had seemed hopelessly awkward just moments ago, was suddenly unbreakable, the tension between us growing more magnetic, surrounding us with a sense of desire.

“Your friendship is odd.” I said distantly, feeling equal parts nervous and excited.

“Can’t argue there– what do you say?”

A smile spread across his lips as my expression gave away my intentions before speaking. I already knew I wanted to agree to his proposal, wanting to spend more time with him in hopes that it would help sort out the tangled mess inside me.

“Alright.”

“Looking forward to it.”

His smile grew momentarily before his gaze fell to my lips, his demeanour shifting, growing dirty, determined.

I felt myself hold my breath as he leaned in, so convinced he was about to kiss me that my mouth fell open. But instead he stepped back and reached for the elevator controls, ready to end our intimate moment. I was about to exhale, to relax and fight the sense of disappointment I was experiencing, when I noticed his fingers hovering, never actually connecting with the button. 

I swallowed.

Suddenly fiery, filthy eyes shot back to mine before he grabbed me, crushing my lips to his, pulling me flush against him. 

I dropped the bag in the process, struggling to form any type of coherent thought as his hands raked over my body – until he got to my very sore behind, which pulled me back to myself enough to feel torn in half, both finding this morally wrong – like I somehow belonged to Oli, like I’m already his girl... Yet the other half of me wanted nothing more than for his rough hands to touch my bare skin, hating the layers between us. 

But my moral dilemma was short lived. Paying more attention to how he was handling me I noticed the sharp sense of urgency in his kiss, in the way he tensed beneath my fingers that were digging into his shoulders, how tightly he was pressing me against him, how his hands were studying my shape as if trying to almost memorise it for later. 

As if he might not get another chance to feel me in this way. 

Whatever the reason for his desperation, it felt like more than lust, more than being rushed due to having stopped the establishment's only elevator.

Oli had told me he falls too hard, too fast – was Mat the same? Was this an emotionally indulgent moment?

He let go of me as quickly as he had grabbed me, and there was suddenly several feets worth of space between us. I hadn’t realised, but he’d pushed me up against the back of the elevator during our brief yet passionate embrace. Which I was now thankfully leaning against, feeling disoriented and incredibly overheated.

Mat wiped his bottom lip with the back of his hand, appearing barely contained as he started the elevator again, his dark eyes eating me up, clearly wanting a lot more than these short, stolen moments between us.

I was speechless, merely a receiver of the energy he was aiming my direction like a laser beam before the doors opened. Wordlessly, he broke our eye contact and stepped out of the elevator, leaving me to gather myself.

But sadly I never got a chance to.

Only seconds after leaving me, an elderly couple joined me in the small metal box, forcing me to use my legs prematurely, which now felt more like spaghetti than flesh and bone. 

Another unfortunate consequence of not getting a chance to pull myself together, was the fact that the first person to lay eyes upon me as I stepped out of the hotel was Oli. 

I knew he could see it on me, how flustered I was. He’d seen it on me an endless amount of times.

The only difference being that this time he hadn't been the one to cause it. And since I had been right on Mat’s heels, it was pretty obvious something had just transpired between us.

I wanted to disappear, to simply run away. Maybe just dash into the woods behind them to never be heard from again. I could find a cabin somewhere and just enjoy life as a hermit, forage for berries and learn to catch fish in the lake. 

While it was just a wild fantasy, it felt infinitely more compelling than spending the next two hours stuck in a van with the two of them.

Kicking myself mentally I lowered my head and quickly made my way to the driver's seat, which Liam was already occupying.

“Get out, I’m driving.” I muttered before essentially pulling him out of the van.

He stepped out, slapping my hands away, “Alright, alright– I just thought I’d drive since you drove us here yesterday.”

“No worries, I’m fine to drive.” I shot him pleading eyes, hoping he’d catch the hint.

He squinted at me, “Okay, but if you think this will get you out of driving us back tonight after the club you’re mad – I was promised I could have a drink.”

I hesitated for a moment, looking over to the passenger seat which was already taken by Matty, knowing that if I didn’t drive I’d have to sit in the back with the others. At the same time I knew how much driving this route had exhausted me yesterday, and doing it twice in the same day would be pushing it, especially considering how much work we had ahead of us.

I felt myself deflate.

“Fine, you drive.”

Dread filled me as I walked back around the van, trying my best to not catch anyone's eye when I opened the van door, only to find that I was faced with yet another problem.

There were two rows worth of seats in front of me; in the front row Lee was sitting near the window furthest away, with Mat in the middle who was watching me with anticipation, clearly hoping I’d take the seat next to him. 

In the back row however, Oli sat all alone, staring distantly out the window. 

And while the energy from the front row was warm and welcoming, I knew I’d have to pick the back seat.

I told myself that it simply made more sense this way – there was so much more room in the back row after all. But somewhere in the back of my mind I knew my subconscious was calling out to Oli. I just couldn’t tell if it was due to guilt, or because I wanted to be closer to him, having missed him this morning.

As soon as I shut the van door behind me, Oli looked in my direction. His large eyes locked with mine and I could tell he was happy I was back here with him, despite the sadness in them, despite the defeat in his posture. And while there was an entire empty seat separating us, I felt the comfort from his presence, confirming I’d made the right choice.

It scared me, terrified me even, how attached I was growing, how much I seemed to crave his presence around me in more and more ways each passing day. How quickly it was happening, and mostly how powerless I felt against it.

It struck me that I’d never let myself get this attached to anyone before, having chronically kept everyone at arm's length my entire life. Even my mother. 

I was so uncomfortable with the idea that I started regretting coming back here, wishing I’d just taken the driver’s seat and dealt with the exhaustion afterwards. All of which was made infinitely worse as I realised the sheer amount of ‘firsts’ Oli had been for me; first to open up to about all my fears, all my struggles; first to explore my kinks with; first to pull me in like a magnet, occupying my mind and heart so many hours of the day.

First person I couldn’t seem to get enough of.

Suddenly I was feeling nauseous as we drove along the winding road, and I knew it wasn’t because of the road, or the amount of bagels I’d had this morning, but because of all the inner demons I couldn’t seem to fight off any longer.

Terror began to press in from every direction, and before I knew it a panic attack was building inside me. I could tell it was going to be an unusually bad one when my breathing sped up, rapidly turning into hyperventilation.

That’s when I saw Oli’s open hand resting in the middle seat, reaching for mine.

My wide eyes shot to his worried ones; they were so tender, filled with the softness I craved, my heart ached at the sight.

He shoved his hand closer to me, pleading for me to take it, to let him comfort me.

Somehow it felt like a trust-fall to take it, like jumping out of an aeroplane with Oli being my untested parachute. All I could do was hope his touch would settle me, when I knew it had the potential of making me infinitely worse.

I didn’t even consider if anyone could see us as my fingers intertwined with his, too preoccupied by my narrowing vision, my speeding pulse, how I felt like I couldn’t get a full lungs worth of air.

Once he had a good grip on my hand, he squeezed it, rubbing his thumb on my skin slowly, silently letting me know he was there for me.

I focused on his touch, his presence, as I began taking deeper and deeper breaths, my heart rate dropping slowly.

It was working, I felt the parachute open before my face hit the ground. Ironically the man that had caused the sudden and severe onset panic was now the one to ease it away from me.

We held eye contact as my body slowly returned to normal, a glowing, affectionate smile making an appearance on him as he noticed how I was calming down, coming back to myself.

I was bewildered, amazed at how well such a simple gesture had completely disarmed the bomb inside me. Looking down at the hand still tenderly holding mine, brushing my skin lovingly, I had to fight back tears for what felt like the hundredth time around the man next to me.

He must have noticed my struggle, uncertainty making an appearance on him. Squirming in his seat, his eyes darted to check what the others were doing, then began untangling our fingers. But I stopped him, holding his hand tighter, determined to not break whatever spell that had managed to stop my panic attack dead in its tracks. I had never been able to stop one myself once it had reached that stage, neither did I know it was possible.

The vulnerability on his face once he realised what I was doing should have startled me, should have sent me right back into my spiral of panic, but instead I just smiled at him, feeling rather calm as his gaze flickered between me and our hands.

I don’t know if anyone noticed what we were doing in the back of the van, but we continued to hold hands for the rest of the journey.

It was such a simple gesture, yet it somehow felt like the most intimate thing we’d done so far. 

So why am I not terrified all of a sudden?

My mind kept attempting to race with these thoughts, touching on the things that usually triggered me, but every time I felt the pressure build inside me, I would just squeeze his fingers, and they’d squeeze me right back, pumping my veins full of his comforting energy. Making me feel safe.

Once we got to the venue, parking up next to the tour bus we’d left here overnight, we let go of each other. My fingers had completely cramped up, hurting as I stretched them, but I hadn’t even noticed during the long drive.

We wordlessly parted ways for the day, right as Liam showered me in the usual tasks. And before I knew it, my feet were hurting almost as much as my butt did.

When all the opening bands had performed for the night, I was with Liam backstage, making sure all the props were in the correct places for the stagehands, when Mat tapped on my shoulder.

“Are you alright to stand a bit further out than usual? I’d like to see you during the show.”

He was bouncing on the spot, clearly pumped up for the impending performance. Yet the laid back demeanour still somehow remained.

How odd.

I considered his request, still a bit taken aback from what happened in the elevator earlier, but also unsure how to respond considering there was a reason I kept to the shadows when I could; I don’t particularly enjoy the public attention.

“Maybe.” I responded teasingly, trying to keep the mood light.

He just smiled at me, knowing there was no time to argue.

“I’ll take it.” He said before walking up on stage with the rest of the guys. 

Well, everyone except the lead singer, who entered the stage last, on a later cue.

I was looking around for the man in question in the hopes of catching a glimpse of him before his performance, knowing he’d be close, but I wasn’t expecting him to appear right in front of me as I turned around.

“You look lovely.” He purred, coming to stand only inches away from me.

I was about to thank him, compliment him back, but he spoke almost immediately, clearly rushed – which made sense considering we only had about 30 seconds before it was his turn to run up on stage.

“You sticking with me later tonight?”

My heart sank.

“Some of the time.” The face I wore was apologetic to say the least, not wanting to admit I’d already agreed to spend time with Mat at the club – not after the expression Oli wore when he saw me leaving the hotel this morning.

His hand reached for mine, holding it in his with a surprising tenderness considering the high energy that was radiating off of him, also clearly ready to expel a high amount of it for the crowd in a moment.

Distantly I wondered how much energy he had when not on tour, when he didn’t spend so much of it on performing.

“Am I bad company?” His eyebrow raised, turning his grin more questioning, yet flirty.

“No, you’re great company.” Even though I really didn’t want to tell him, I knew there was no point in trying to hide it, especially since he’d see us together tonight anyway, “Mat’s already asked me.”

The smile fell away from him completely, almost as if it had been a facade entirely, and whatever urgency there had been in Mat’s behaviour earlier completely paled in comparison to whatever had just taken hold of Oli.

Regret washed over me for not waiting till after the show to tell him, made worse by the music starting – meaning we only had around 15 seconds left together. 

Throwing a quick glance towards the stage, he pinned me with all-too serious eyes and let his hands rest on my arms, as if wanting to hold me in place, causing worry and confusion to rush over me at the immediate shift in behaviour. For a brief moment he appeared uncertain, questioning whether he should speak or not, but his decision was made clear by the rant that followed.

“The nightmares, they started when I was a teenager; my girlfriend at the time killed herself, slashed her wrists one night,” he spoke so very fast, saying things I didn’t have a chance to even begin unpacking. All I could focus on was the fact that he needed to be on stage in mere seconds, yet he was opening up to me out of nowhere, not leaving any room for me to react or respond, “I know it wasn’t my fault, but it messed me up, made me real scared of some things – made me real hard on myself in many ways.”

“Oli!” A stagehand yelled next to us, interrupting him.

“Wait!” He barked, then immediately threw him an apologetic look before returning his intense attention to me, “I’ve dreamt about you for a month now, most nights you torture me, try to kill me–” He shook his head in distress, seemingly out of frustration due to the time constraints, “I know I’m not making a lot of sense – I can explain much better later, but my point is–”

“You really gotta get on the stage man.” The poor stagehand continued, only trying to do his job, but Oli’s attention remained on me, talking over him entirely.

“I don’t open up to people a lot, and I know you don’t either,” he searched my face for a split second, his eyes darting all over it, sheer panic in his stare before he gently shook me in his hands, “You’re very special to me too.” 

He let go of me and shot up the steps leading to the stage so fast I barely had time to realise he was gone.

I was left standing alone in the dark, completely stunned, as the man that had just dumped a ton-of-bricks worth of intimate and bewildering information on me, started singing the words of the first song in the setlist.

... Subscribe to the story on Ao3 for future updates

[read-chill-wine]

Welcome to reviews of...

✨️Books Liz Loves that you should buy if you are in the US before the orange one takes office✨️

Warnings - slight spoilers, mention of misogyny, mentions of smut, a little bit of SJM criticism.

A/N - To those who may be disappointed, I do not discuss SJM as a person, deep plotholes, full character assassinations, etc. In short, I am not going in on glaring issues from this series or her writing. I have a huge post I have been working on for several months where I am addressing these things, but I will not be posting it until I have all the quotes and exact page numbers I am referencing.

The Banned Booklist

See Liz's original Banned Book Post here

As voted by so many of you, we're talking about the ACOTAR series today

**not my picture, but I'd do some bad things for these first editions. Mainly ACOFAS**

The ACOTAR series is a growing series of romantic fantasy, commonly called Romantasy, novels. The series centers around the three Archeron Sisters as they navigate a new life as made high fae after their own series of traumatic events. It spanned into a whole multi-verse connecting ACOTAR into Maas' beloved Throne of Glass and Crescent City series with many fans accrediting Feyre to being what saved both of those worlds as well. The argument has been made that without Feyre, Rhys would not have been freed to save Aelin. Without Feyre, Nesta would not have been made High Fae to collect the dread trove and help Bryce. This is something I do agree with since it does appear that everything in these three worlds is being shaped up to center around Rhysand's family and, in turn, Feyre. I am open to discussion on this, though!

Books 1-2 (the ones mainly beginning to fall under the book bans and challenges) center around the youngest sister, Feyre. In book one, A Court of Thorns and Roses, we open with Feyre hunting to help her family survive a hard winter. Feyre on this trip kills a wolf that turns out to be a high fae male (and unrated self-sacrificing hero) beginning our story. After this happens, the Archeron family is visited by 1 of the 7 High Lords of the fae lands, Tamlin, and she is forced to leave with him under the guise of a treaty between the fae and mortals.

We get to witness a delicious slow burn, almost enemies to lovers situation between Tamlin and Feyre that is littered with hints of something much more dangerous at play. The first book is filled with a lot of whimsy and reads like a very magical world fantasy novel where we see things like a night based in sex magic and fertility, holidays celebrating the arrival of the seasons, and the stunning scenery of the Spring Court. Without spoiling too much, Feyre's time with Tamlin in Spring comes to a very abrupt holt when we get our second glance into Rhysand and his discovery and confirmation of Feyre's existence in Spring and her relationship with Tamlin. Tamlin, in a delicious act of "I'm going to let the world burn for you," sends Feyre back home to the mortal lands for her protection.

Once Feyre discovers her man, male, something (depending on what SJM felt like calling the fae on that page) had been taken by the blight, Feyre gives chase, following him down under the mountain leading to us getting to meet the "Blight" Amarantha and the 3 challenges Feyre is forced to endure to free all of Prythian from the Queen Under the Mountain. Book one ends with Feyre's death and revival at the hands of the High Lords. The now high fae female meets with Rhysand, who may actually not be a bad guy, one last time before heading home with Tamlin to Spring.

Book two essentially picks up where books 1 leaves off. Feyre is back in Spring with Tamlin and struggling deeply. She is scarred from her time under the mountain and it shows through her outward appearance and inwards anxieties that we are a reader experience with her. I will be honest, A Court Of Mist and Fury is my least favorite of the series. I feel it was riddled with plot holes, character assassinations (Lucien, Feyre, and Tamlin) and I do feel SJM killed the very fantasy world based vibes she created with the Spring court once we as readers arrive with Feyre in Velaris. So, to cliff notes this, Tamlin turns into an abuser out of left field, Rhysand is Feyre's mate, they get dirty in some paint after Feyre gives Rhys some canned soup, and her sisters Nesta and Elain are turned High Fae after being kidnapped by Hybern after, and I cannot stress this enough, IANTHE not Tamlin IANTHE sells them out, they get thrown into the Cauldron, Feyre plays dirty little actress, has the King of Hybern (what's his actual name Sarah Janet) break her bargain bond with Rhysand, and we end up back with Tamlin in Spring.

From here, this series is filled with a lot of plotholes and twists that genuinely do not make sense, some poor character development, some good character development, some what the actual hell moments from Rhysand, and a beautiful story in A Court of Silver Flames that centers around Nesta and her growth and journey with addiction and mental health. In short, there are many good things and bad things SJM does, and while the hype around the books may be a little much, it is definitely earned. I do recommend this series to all of my friends in a reading slump.

ACOTAR has created a cult like following with readers ranging from their teens all the way to my 75 year old grandmother borrowing it from me and becoming a huge fan (she's a Helion girlie - I got my love of thighs from somewhere.) That fandom has spanned around the world with many readers in many time zones connecting on levels some argue has not been seen since the start of the Supernatural fandom.

The fandom is filled with controversy, love, drama, and some absolutely talented artists and writers who have all worked their booty off to keep the magic alive while we wait for what is going to be a high anticipated 6th book that many hope will be centered around the middle sister, Elain Archeron. It has helped a lot of readers get back into reading and has landed SJM on the list of top fantasy authors of all time *something I don't agree with. Romantasy, yes. Fantasy, no.*

SJM quickly became one of the most common newly banned authors in 2022-2023 lists with over 13 districts and states banning ACOTAR and ACOMAF with the rest of the series slowly beginning to trickle in. The reason these books are becoming challenged may not shock you all. The first and most common reason is smut. While ACOSF is definitely the most smut heavy, all of these books feature sex scenes. Are they the spiciest books I have ever read? No. Absolutely not. However, it has caused some pearl clutching, causing groups to question if they are appropriate for children and in public spaces. The second reason is ✨️magic✨️. The magic in the book shows "unchristian values" because, evidently, Jesus of Nazareth is the only person allowed to perform magic in books.

There are several common themes in banned romantasy books out side of smut and magic that many against censorship have brought up, and they do appear in the ACOTAR. The most common link in a lot of these novels is strong female leads. From Blood and Ash, Throne of Glass, the Hunger Games, and so many more have potential misogynistic views causing them to end up on these lists.

I don't have a golden way to wrap this one up. I love this series, especially for the fandom. I truly do. I have formed an amazing platform of friends, readers, moots, and connections I treasure dearly. It would genuinely break my heart if this book were to be banned from public libraries. It brings forth so much discussion and beauty, especially when you over look the bad.

[baileypie-writes]

Hello! is it too late to submit a request? I keep forgetting to ask this one, but I was wondering if you could write about a platonic reader + Twilight from Princess Precure as the reader's wingman/wingwoman/wingbestie or something- ya know, just the reader being Twilight's bestie but also she's their wingbestie who sometimes calls her for silly stuff- I hope that makes sense and if it's too much to ask, I'm sorry! Also here's a Twilight photo so you don't gotta search for one!

I'm obsessed with her plz help lol /j

A/N ~ Sure! I unfortunately couldn’t save the image provided, but I was able to find another one, so it’s okay:) Also, I hope I used the “wingbestie” term correctly. I’m not too familiar with the term haha. Hope you enjoy!

~Wing-Bestie~

Twilight + GN!Villain!Reader

~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~

Fandom: Go! Princess Pretty Cure

Fanfic Type: Oneshot

Reader: Gender neutral, a villain

Relationship: Platonic

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,422

Synopsis: Twilight was ordered by her mother not to leave the castle. Though, being a good friend, you helped her sneak out.

Warnings: Mention of the possibility of Dyspear destroying Reader, kind of abrupt ending

~Masterlists~

~Go! Princess Pretty Cure Masterlist~

~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~

As you wondered through the dark palace, your annoyance only became more definite. The one person you were looking for was nowhere to be found. In fact, it seemed as if the only times you couldn’t find her was when you actually needed her. Her mysteriousness could be highly inconvenient sometimes.

Though to your relief, the start of a somber, lonely violin solo began echoing throughout the halls. You followed the sound, almost as if the music notes created a physical trail for you to follow. Soon enough, the song led you to a large, open room. There, standing in the center, under a large crystal chandelier, was Twilight.

She continued playing, her bow moving in a perfect, natural fashion, almost as if the song was playing her. You knew she knew you were there. She always did. Though you didn’t mind being ignored. It was always a pleasure to hear her breathtaking violin skills.

After the song concluded, you gave her a round of applause. She lowered her bow, while keeping the instrument tucked under her chin. She gently lifted her dress a bit, giving a tiny curtsy. “What is it you need me for, (name)?” She asked after coming back up.

“Aw, c’mon Twi. Don’t you think it’s kinda rude to assume I only come to you when I need something?” You laughed, acting hurt.

“I’ve told you before to not call me that. If you wish to refer to me, use my full name.” She said, lowering her violin to rest at her side.

“We’re friends, aren’t we? A lot of friends have nicknames for each other. You can make up one for me!”

“I refuse. And again, call me ‘Twilight’.”

“Aww, you’re no fun.” You slumped. But you knew she could’ve been meaner. Not too long ago, she completely denied the idea of being friends. So you at least had that.

“I still suspect that you need something from me. If you don’t tell me now, I’ll be going.” Twilight turned her back to you, preparing to leave the room.

“Okay, you got me.” You laughed. “I was wondering if you’d wanna come to summon a Zetsuborg with me?

She sighed. “I suppose. I will have to get my mother’s approval though.”

“Yay!” Your excitement was through the roof. Twilight usually didn’t agree to leave the castle with you. However, your victory was short lived.

“But Mother-“ Twilight said, but was cut off.

“No buts. I said I don’t want you going out today. Don’t make me say it again.” Dyspear said, her calm face contrasting with her chilling voice.

Twilight sighed. “Yes Mother. I’m sorry.” She then walked away, hiding her annoyance and disappointment. “Sorry (name). We can’t go.” She told you once she left the room.

“Aw darn. Why is she so controlling all the time?” You rolled your eyes.

“She’s just trying to protect me. Though I admit it can get overbearing at times.”

“Well…” You gave a mischievous look.

“What are you planning?” Twilight said, already sensing a bad idea.

“I could sneak you out.” You offered.

“No way. My mother would know.”

“Not if we’re careful! And we won’t be gone long!” You pleaded.

Twilight crossed her arms in thought. Her eyes closed her a few moments, and then she sighed. “Alright. But if we get in trouble-“

“-all the blame will go to me!” You finished the sentence for her.

She cracked a small smile, and you swore you heard a chuckle. “Well then, shall we go?”

You nodded, then snapped your fingers, summoning a keyhole shaped portal. You looked to your left, then your right, before taking her hand. “Okay, quickly!” You then both jumped into the portal.

When you reached the other side, you were on the rooftop of Noble Academy, the Pretty Cure’s school. You immediately began scanning the area below you, looking for a victim.

As if she read your mind, Twilight began looking as well. It didn’t take long before she pointed to a girl next to a flower bed. “How about her?”

“She looks interesting! Thanks Twi!” You said. Twilight simply rolled her eyes at hearing her disliked nickname.

With a snap of your fingers, you teleported a few feet above the girl. “Hey! Lemme see that dream of yours!” You demanded.

“Huh? Who are you?” The girl asked. But no answer was given. You took a glimpse inside the girl’s dream. She held up a unique looking flower, while everyone around her cheered. The words “I wanna breed a new type of flower!” echoed in the picture.

“Huh, what an interesting dream. Too bad it’s mine now.” You said in a teasing tone. “Go forth, Zetsuborg!” You commanded. A lock wrapped around the dream, and took the form of a giant, thorny flower. The girl was then put in a cage that suspended in the air. “Go on, Zetsuborg! Have some fun!” You told it. It did as it was told, firing giant thorns from its body. All the nearby students began screaming and running away. With a chuckle, you turned to Twilight. “And now, we wait.”

“Do you think you’ll defeat the Pretty Cure this time?” She asked.

“Eh, not sure. But I don’t really care about that right now. I’m more in it for the fun!”

She simply hummed, and continued watching the chaos unfold.

~~~~

Unfortunately, your fun didn’t last long. The Princess Pretty Cure defeated your Zetsuborg in no time, freeing the dream from your grasp. “Darn. Oh well.” You shrugged. “C’mon Twi, let’s-“ A sudden voice in your head interrupted your sentence.

“(name), Twilight, see me immediately.”

It was Dyspear. And from the town of her voice, she was not happy.

“Mother…” Twilight whispered to herself, implying that she heard it too.

“Hey, it’s okay! Remember, I’m taking all the blame!” You placed a hand on her shoulder as an attempt to comfort her. Though, she didn’t seem convinced.

A portal sent the two of you back to the castle in no time. As expected, you could tell Dyspear was furious, even though her face appeared neutral. “Twilight, I believe I told you that you were not to leave the castle today.” Her voice was eerily calm.

“I know mother, but-“ Twilight began, though you cut her off.

“Dyspear, if I may. I was the one who took her out. I wanted to summon a Zetsuborg, and thought it would be good for her if she watched. Y’know, to get some experience. It was truly my fault. I’m very sorry.” You got on your knees, bowing lowly.

Dyspear hummed, and tapped her fingernail on the armrest of her throne. “Whether your intentions were good or not, you convinced my daughter to disobey my orders. And on top of that, you failed to defeat the Pretty Cure. So I’m sure you’re prepared for a punishment.”

“Yes, your majesty.” You remained bowing.

~~~~

Your punishment was surprisingly not too harsh. You were simply temporarily banned from going out and creating Zetsuborgs. You were also not allowed to be around Twilight for a while.

You were simply amazed that your life was spared. Though, you knew that Twilight most likely had something to do with it. And for that, you were eternally grateful.

A knock came from your bedroom door, so you went to see who it was. A piece of paper was slipped under it, so you picked it up. It was a note.

“Dear (name),

I’d like to sincerely thank you for taking all the blame. It was very kind of you. In return, I had convinced my mother to spare you.

You’re surprisingly enjoyable to be around, so I figured keeping you around would be better than having you destroyed.

I await for more of your ideas after your punishment has ended.

~ Your friend, Twi”

You were ecstatic at her note. Not only did she admit to being your friend, but she used her nickname! You hastily looked around for a piece of paper, eager to write her back.

“Dear Twi,

Thanks for getting me out of trouble! I guess we’re even now!

But I’ll still always be there for you. I’m your wing person and best friend. Your ‘wing-bestie”!

~ (name)”

You slid the note under your door, and eagerly waited. The clicks of heels signaled that Twilight was there again, and just a few moments later, another paper was given to you.

“Dear (name),

I appreciate your loyalty.

But please don’t use the term ‘wing-bestie’ ever again.

~ Twi”

~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[plushchimera]

I am deleting veilguard spoilers tags from my blacklist, I am free!

can't believe I actually guessed the twist x) I was fully prepared for it to be another byproduct of the unfortunate development hell this game went through

and as great the satisfaction of being right is, I have a hard pill to swallow: Varric was *like that* on purpose. Like every time he said something vaguely inspirational and meaningless at the same time, and it was pissing me off. I hate to admit that it makes sense, in the context of him being magically amplified memory of a guy you knew for 6 month who elected himself to be your life coach mentor after you were kicked out from your previous job for being a loose cannon.

You know, I did have fun. I think it's all more disappointing to me because I booted the game with 0 expectations, but then while playing I started to expect certain things. Like you can see all those interesting hooks and questions in front of you only for them to be quietly dropped or resolved instantly. man I'd really love to see regional\factions storylines to be expanded and given more time and care, while axing all those meaningless go-kill-stuff-get-a-chest side quests.

okay it's not even worth mentioning really and I attribute it to the development hell as well, but the really bizarre moment when the characters were short of looking straight into the camera, at the player (and I swear Isabela did at some point), saying almost in gaming terms "hey it's time to do our personal quests now!" And then they repeated it 2 or 3 times like I'm a 4 year old. That felt surreal x)

Also the ending crawl. Like please hold the shot for 1,5 seconds longer! It was so quick and abrupt can't even look at the art properly.

Loved companions overall. The codex notes about lighthouse were very cute and I loved them too! wish I've gotten the 3rd book club meeting note but alas.

Lucanis' romance was mostly implied but I can live with that x) I left Emmrich in my og save, I'll watch it on youtube probably.

I need a "do it for her" wall with pictures of Bellara