#Stars Above Ground Below Air Between | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kezzanza · 3 months ago

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EARNED IT.

Pairing: Jude x Girlfriend ! Reader Tags: Celebratory Sex, Established Relationship Word Count: 3.6k Content Warning: Smut, 18+ Jude celebrates winning his fifth trophy, the Super Cup, by fucking you.

Sex with Jude is amazing.

His strong body moves in harmony with yours, knowing exactly how to touch you to make you shiver with pleasure. His possessive gaze leaves no room for doubt or inhibition, piercing into yours, as if he could read your every desire and need. Each touch, each caress, each time he enters you, it’s as if he is claiming you all over again.

But after Jude wins a trophy, the sex is heavenly.

Jude strides to the edge of the pitch, a victorious beast of a man, his muscles rippling and damp with the sweat of triumph. He pulls you into an embrace, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he holds your body.

His eyes lock onto yours, you know what’s coming, you can see it in his gait, the way he moves like a predator—the rough post-win sex is as much a part of the win as the trophy itself.

You wouldn’t want it any other way—submitting to Jude after watching him dominating the game.

The ride home crackles with electric tension as Jude drives you back to his place. Every glance and fleeting touch hint at something known but unspoken between you. The air is thick with charged silence, each second drawing you closer to the inevitable passion you will share.

You step through the door of Jude’s luxurious penthouse, feeling as if the energy from the stadium still pulses through your veins. Jude, your boyfriend, the star of the game, is behind you, his presence a palpable force.

The door slams shut, and without a word, he spins you around in the entryway. The yellow light from the pendant above casts sharp shadows across his face. The warm glow highlights the contours of his cheekbones and the square jaw that had been clenched in determination just moments ago.

His strong arms, wrapping around your waist, feel grounding. Your heart races as his gaze roams over you. His eyes burn with a fiery intensity that surpasses the passion that you saw in him on the pitch.

“You've been my lucky charm tonight,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

You had been there through every moment—caring for him after training and encouraging him before the game. Your heart had raced in rhythm with the roaring crowd as he helped his team to victory. Pride surged through you when he was named ‘Man of the Match,’ especially as you wore his jersey—one he had personally given you—with his name written on your back.

Now, here you were, alone with him as the city lights twinkle below like a sea of stars. You step closer, your hands reaching up to cup his face, feeling the rough stubble against your palms.

“You were amazing.” you say, your voice soft yet filled with emotion.

Jude’s gaze turns intense, his eyes locked on yours with a dominant, smoldering heat.

“I dedicated that performance to you,” he whispers, his voice low and deep. “You deserve a prize for all your support.”

His hands pull you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours. His gaze is like a predator's stare, and you feel yourself being pulled into his world—a world of raw, unfiltered desire. He leans in, capturing your lips in a short, hungry kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

“When the whistle blew, all I could think about was you,” he confesses. “How I wanted to celebrate with you.”

Your heart races, overwhelmed by his words and the intensity in his eyes.

“I need you, Jude,” you breathe out. “I need to feel you.”

His hand is warm and firm as it wraps around yours, leading you through the entryway. You follow closely behind him, trying to keep up with his brisk pace, anticipation building with every step.

The kitchen is a stark contrast to the bright entryway you've just left behind. It’s bathed in only the dim glow of under-cabinet lighting.

Upon reaching, he presses you against the hard surface of the island, his body looming over you. The coolness of the marble island seeps through your jeans, a stark contrast to the heat emanating from his body.

Jude's hand rests gently on the small of your back, drawing you closer as he leans in for another kiss. You wrap your arms around his shoulders. His other hand lingers at your hips, tracing the curve of it before sliding up under your jersey.

His warm fingers brush against your skin, making you gasp softly. The kiss deepens, and you can't help but melt into him, his heat seeping into your very soul. The sound of your breaths mingling fills the space between you, the only noise in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

His hands roam further, exploring the contours of your body, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. You're lost in the moment, in the feeling of his fingertips all over you.

Jude's hands trail down your torso. His fingers undo the button of your jeans. He lowers the zipper, the sound echoing in the room.

With surprising gentleness, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your jeans and begins to tug them down. You feel the roughness of the denim give way as gravity takes over, pulling the fabric down to your ankles.

You lift one leg and then the other, helping him as he guides your jeans over your ankles, clinging to him as he drops the garment on the floor behind him.

Now, you are left in just your soft pink underwear and the jersey with his name on the back. His eyes darken as he took in the sight of you, his hands gently caressing your bare thighs. You look up into his eyes and feel yourself melting under his gaze.

“Kneel for me baby,” he commands, his voice a low sound that sends shivers down your spine.

Slowly, you obey, lowering yourself to your knees, hitting the cold black tiles with a soft thud. Looking up at him, you see the mix of triumph and hunger in his eyes, a look that both terrifies and excites you.

His hands reach into his shorts. The air is thick with tension, the kind that makes it hard to breathe. He pulls out his long and thick erection with practiced motions. His eyes never leave yours as he strokes himself, watching the play of emotions across your face—lust and need.

His cock, thick and hard, is a testament to his desire for you. You reach out to touch the warm length of him, feeling his pulse throb against your fingertips. You lick your lips, the hunger in his gaze making your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

“Open your mouth,” he orders, his tone offering no refusal.

His hand slides into your hair, gripping gently but firmly, guiding your head forward. Jude groans, his head falling back as you stroke him, your fingers feeling the texture and the shape of him. You lean in, your lips brushing the tip, tasting him—the salty flavor ignites a fire within you.

His grip on your hair tightens just a fraction, a silent demand that sends a thrill of excitement down your spine.

Finally, you do as he says, letting your mouth fall open. He presses the head of his erection on your tongue. You close your mouth around him, your tongue exploring the familiar contours of his length. His hands guide your movements as his breath comes out in rough groans.

The taste of him fills your mouth and you find yourself lost in the sensation of sucking him. Your own need rises with each passing second, the fabric of your panties becoming damp with desire.

“Fuck, yes,” he growls, one of his hands gripping the counter as you take him into your mouth.

He’s huge, filling your mouth, stretching you, but you revel in it. His hips moved with a slow, steady rhythm that built with each passing moment. Your tongue swirls around him. Your lips are tight as you move up and down his length.

His hips thrust forward quicker, pushing deeper into your throat. You suck harder, taking him deeper, eager to submit to all of him, to be the source of his pleasure and release. Jude’s groans fill the room, and you know he's close, his body taut with the tension of release.

Suddenly, he pulls out, his eyes dark with lust. “Not yet baby,” he says, when he sees your confusion. “I need you cumming on my fingers first.”

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming, igniting a fire that burns through you. You stand up, your lips finding his lips in a deep kiss. His tongue slides against yours. It’s a gentle yet demanding exploration that makes your knees weak.

Your hands reach for the hem of his jersey, slowly lifting it over his head. His skin was taut with muscle, evidence of the hours he spent on the field. You traced the lines of his chest, your fingers trailing the waistband of his briefs. You push them down and let them pool on the floor, leaving his muscular body bare.

His abs ripple with every breath he takes. The contours of his muscles tell tales of countless practices and games won. The light dusting of hair on his body travels from his chest to the V that points to his hips.

As the heat between you escalates, Jude's hand slides down your body, tracing the contour of your waist before dropping lower. His fingertips graze the waistband of your pink panties.

His eyes never leave yours as he says, "I love how you look in these," His voice is low and gruff with desire, sending shivers down your spine. “So innocent, yet so fucking tempting.”

You can feel your wetness seeping through the fabric, a silent declaration of your arousal. His fingers cup you through your underwear, his possessiveness making you ache for more, leaving you moaning breathlessly.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting to touch you?" he whispers, the question hanging in the air like a promise.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he hooks his thumb under the waistband, sliding it down and letting the fabric pool at your feet. Your gasp softly, unable to form words as his fingers finally make contact with your slick folds.

He groans at the wetness he finds. You can see his cock straining against his stomach, eager to join the intimate dance his fingers have started.

With the lightest of strokes, Jude's thumb grazes over your clit, sending a bolt of pleasure shooting through you. You moan, your knees buckling slightly, and he steadies you with his other hand on your waist, holding you in place as his thumb starts to circle with increasing pressure.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. “So wet just for me.”

Each pass over your clit sends waves of desire crashing through your core. You can't help but arch into his touch. He watches your reaction with hungry eyes and you know he's just getting started.

“I love seeing my name on you.” Jude admits, removing his fingers from your wet core. “But right now, I need to see you naked.”

Jude gently tugs at the hem of your jersey. You lift your arms as the fabric glides over your head, revealing the contours of your body.

Then, his lips are on you, making you gasp as he finds that sensitive spot on your neck. His hands move to your back, his fingers deftly finding the clasp of your bra, which yields to his touch with a soft click.

The cool air hits your bare skin. It is quickly replaced by the heat of his mouth as he bends down and his tongue flicks over your nipple, making you arch into him. His hands cup your other breast, thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples into peaks. You arch into him, a soft moan escaping your lips as he continues his exploration.

“Jude,” you gasp, your hands threading through his hair, holding him closer.

He moves his mouth to your other breast, his actions deliberate, each kiss, each nibble building the tension inside you. You could feel the ache low in your belly, a throbbing need that demanded release.

Jude seemed to sense it, his hand sliding down your body, his fingers finding where you are already wet and ready. He doesn't ask for permission; he simply knows. You moan, your head falling back as two of his fingers worked into you.

He moves slowly, deliberately. His fingers slide in deeper, filling you in a way that makes you feel vulnerable. Your breathing quickens, your pulse races, and you know that tonight will be one of those nights you never want to end.

His hands move expertly, finding your g-spot, his fingers building the pressure inside you. He seems to know exactly how to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and when to slow down or speed up. You gasp, your body arching towards his touch, your mind consumed by the pleasure he's giving.

"You like that?" he whispers, his voice a seductive growl in your ear.

You can only moan, your words lost in the whirlwind of sensation. His fingers delve deeper, hitting that sweet spot, and you feel the orgasm building, a wave threatening to crash over you.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice thick with desire.

You obey, your eyes locking with him. He watches you, his expression a mix of tenderness and raw passion. The sight of him, so focused, so intent on your pleasure, pushes you over the edge.

You cry out, your body trembling as your orgasm sweeps through you, leaving you breathless and weak. Your mouth forming a perfect 'O' of pleasure. Your breasts heaving with each panting breath you take.

But Jude isn't done.

He spins you around you, bending you over the counter, his body pressing against yours. You feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he pulls you closer.

He whispers in your ear, "You're mine," his voice a seductive growl that sends a thrill through your body.

Your heart races with anticipation, the room filled with the sweet scent of desire. He whispers your name, the sound sending shivers down your spine. You lean into his touch, as his mouth trails kisses along your neck, sending waves of pleasure that mingle with the lingering tremors of your climax.

You can feel his arousal pressing against your backside, insistent and demanding. His hands roam over your body, caressing every inch of your exposed skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touches. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him, silently begging for more.

The head of his cock nudges against your wetness, seeking entry, and you gasp as he slides into you with one smooth, powerful thrust.

The sensation is overwhelming, and you bite your lip to keep from screaming out his name. Your hands clutch the counter for support as he begins to move, his rhythm slow and deliberate, savoring every moment.

Each stroke fills you completely, stretching you to the brink of pleasure and pain. You know that he's holding back, keeping you poised on the edge, and the thought of what's to come makes your stomach flutter with excitement.

His grip tightens, and he pulls you back into him, increasing his pace, driving you towards another peak. You're lost in the sensation, the world around you fading away until there's only the two of you and the passion that fuels your every move.

Your breath hitches, and you moan, unable to hold back the sounds of pleasure that spill from your lips. Jude's breathing is ragged in your ear, his own passion evident in every pant and groan. You feel him swell inside of you, and you know that he's close.

You want to feel him let go, to be the one to push him over the edge. So, you push back into him, matching his rhythm, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The tension builds, coiling tighter and tighter, until you hear him groan, filling you with his release.

You feel the intense, almost painful pleasure of your second orgasm wash over you, as if the first one wasn't enough to satisfy the ravenous beast that Jude has awoken within you.

Your muscles clench around him, milking every drop, leaving you both panting and trembling. You rest against the countertop, your body feeling like a deliciously stretched canvas of sensation, pulses of pleasure still rippling through you from your last two orgasms.

Your eyes are heavy, and the room is a warm, soft blur. You're about to drift into a peaceful post-coital slumber when Jude's voice, thick with desire, brings you back to reality.

“Come on baby,” he whispers, his voice edged with a hunger that hasn't yet been satiated. “Just one more round.”

The way he says it, the promise in his voice, makes you want to give in. He kisses you then, a kiss that starts out as a gentle request and quickly escalates into a passionate demand, his tongue coaxing yours into a dance that leaves you breathless.

His hand finds your waist, his touch rekindling the embers of desire that you thought had faded. You feel yourself respond, your body arching into him despite your earlier exhaustion. He notices, his grin growing as he kisses you harder, deeper.

“You're still with me, aren't you?” he murmurs, his voice a seductive purr.

You nod, your breath still ragged, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure. He smiles, a genuine smile, and you feel a surge of love for this man— passionate and who wears his heart on his sleeve, especially after a win.

And with that, he lifts you up, placing you on the counter, his body fitting between your open legs.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands, his voice back to its rough, dominant tone.

You do as he says, your legs locking around his waist. Your hands reach for his shoulders, guiding him to you as he positioned himself at your entrance.

He pushes inside you again, filling you inch by inch until you are stretched around him, full and tight, his hands firmly gripping your thighs.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours as he paused, letting you adjust to him.

You moan in pleasure, wincing at the soreness. “Fuck me,” you urge, your voice a husky command.

He does, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a steady rhythm that builds with each passing moment. Your body arches into each thrust, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Your muscles quiver with each of his powerful thrusts, a delicious reminder of the two orgasms that have already claimed you. He's relentless, his eyes dark with need, as he drives into you, his rhythm unyielding despite your protests of exhaustion.

Each stroke feels like a battle between pain and pleasure, your body a canvas for his hunger.

He whispers, “Come on, baby, just one last time,” his voice thick with lust, and you know he won't be satisfied until he feels you come apart beneath him again.

Your heart races, your breath hitches, and you clutch his shoulders, bracing for the inevitable. The third orgasm begins to build, a crescendo of sensation that fills every inch of you, threatening to shatter you into a million pieces.

His movements grow more forceful, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. You could feel the coil inside you tightening, the pressure building, the need for release overwhelming.

“Jude,” you cried out, your body trembling.

“Come for me,” he whispers. “Show me how much you love this.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as the intensity becomes too much, evidence to the depth of pleasure he's coaxing from your weary body.

You feel the familiar rush of an impending climax, and you know this time, it'll be even more intense, a fitting end to tonight's victories.

Your eyes roll back in your head as your nails dig into his shoulders, desperately seeking purchase amidst the tumultuous sea of sensation. You orgasm as your body convulses uncontrollably, muscles tightening and releasing in rapid succession. Each stroke feels like a bolt of lightning, sending electric shocks through your core, making it impossible to distinguish where one climax ends and the next begins.

The room is a blur of sensation, the only thing in focus is the feeling of him inside you, the sound of your moans, and the wet slapping of skin on skin. The wave of euphoria is so intense that you can't help but scream out his name, the sound echoing off the walls.

Jude's grip on your hips tightens, his movements becoming more urgent, his breath hot and ragged in your ear as he whispers sweet nothings and dirty promises. He follows you soon after, his own release coming swiftly. His body tensing, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the pounding of your hearts, the sense of completion, of fulfillment. As the waves of pleasure subside, he kisses away your tears, his eyes filled with awe and adoration.

“I love you,” he says, his voice soft, tender.

“I love you too, Jude.” you say, smiling.

Your body is spent yet satisfied. And you know that in this moment, in this intense, intimate moment, you are exactly where you're meant to be.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x reader #kesswrites

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toruro · 1 year ago

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— ✧ devil by the window

temptation touched my tongue / spread the wings of desire (a friday the 13th special)

description: all your fairy friends warned you not to get tangled up with the demons that lurk on the ground, but you swear on every star in the sky that minghao is different.

warnings: smut (18+), consent is clear but reader is somewhat unaware of what sex is

tags: enchanted forest au, demon hao, fairy reader, corruption kink, loss of virginity, innocence kink, pet names (fairy, pretty), condescension, brief implied exhibitionism

w/c: 5k+

request: hiii for hao could u write fairytailesque theme umm like vibes of love between fairy and devil cdrama! mean dom hao secretly a softie for u<33 i feel like u would rock it!!

a/n: i got something out for friday the 13th! sorry to anon for losing the og ask, hope u see this! for those who saw the first version of this, i am sorry. i popped this out by listening to freefall while being high as hell

Joshua was the first to warn you about those who live below. Those who lurk in the shadows, waiting, and waiting, and waiting to pounce on the first naive soul to cross their path.

You didn’t quite believe him at first. Your head was in the pristine clouds that float above; living your little fairy life among the heights of the forest, days spent buzzing around with your friends, glowing smiles and shining eyes, petal-cloth dress flowing over your soft skin as you flutter from tree to tree—your life was perfect.

Seokmin tells you about it next. He recites a story of one of his friends, Chan, who got a little too close to the ground. The young boy hardly escaped the luring hands of a demon who crept up on him, and to this day, Chan has a scar on his left ankle.

Maybe catching sight of the little mark on the other fairy’s skin the next time you saw Chan was a little bit of a reality check, but still, you don’t worry too much.

After all, how could you? Your life was perfect, so what need was there for all this tension? All this trouble, worrying about a world so, so far away …

⟢

You’re falling.

You’re falling unimaginably fast.

You’re not really sure how it happened—you were floating through the trees and something in your magic spasmed for a second and the next thing you know you’re flailing around, unable to get those sparks flying again.

And you try to yell for help, call for Seokmin because he’s the last one you’d seen, a cold rush overwhelming your body when you realize you’re too far down for him to hear you anyways. You close your eyes tight and brace for the impact as you feel the bases of the trees grow thicker as you near the ground and then—

Wait, what? Why didn’t you hit the ground and—oh, you’re floating again. Reflexes must’ve kicked in upon realizing the difference in air pressure.

It takes a few moments to get yourself back on balance using what little energy you’ve got left. You’re dangerously close to the ground—mere meters hovering above it, really, but right as you think you’ve managed to flutter up a bit higher, you lose control again, dropping straight down with no luck on your side to stop you.

You crash down into the ground, letting out a soft shriek as your body thuds. It shakes you for a moment but as you look around, you’re endlessly grateful to have fallen on a relatively soft patch of grass. Dusting yourself off as you try to sit up straight, the fact that you are now on the ground without your magic is dawning on you.

You aren’t sure how long you sit there, just gazing at the thick, dark trees around you. It’s rather peaceful, you wonder if you landed on the same grounds that Chan did when he got that scar. You doubt it.

You gaze up at the sight, soft breaths and gentle eyes, and you start to think that the ground is much nicer than anyone has ever told you but suddenly, there’s a rustling in the bushes behind you. In an instant you feel cold.

Dreadfully cold.

So cold, you don’t dare to turn around, figure cowering in on itself as you shut your eyes tight when the rustling intensifies, turning into thudding footsteps that approach you. And then, it stops, and you believe for a gracing second if the thing has left you alone, but you know better than that because after just five seconds of silence, you hear it breathing from above.

“Wh—who are?” you murk up the courage to whimper, wincing as you hold a hand up to face your face.

Through the fingers, you catch the silhouette of a man. He doesn’t look much different from all the other boys you’ve seen before, and you wonder if you should take your chances and let your hands drop.

“Are you …” Your breath hitches in when you finally look at him—chiseled jawline and sharp, cold eyes that watch you carefully. You feel your palms sink into the ground as you try to scurry back, but suddenly, it feels as though your hands can’t move. “... a demon?”

The pretty man smiles, but some funny feeling in your stomach tells you he isn’t exactly happy. He smiles oddly, and then he chuckles. He chuckles oddly, and then he laughs.

“What do you think, fairy?” His voice is cool and crisp, cutting through you like a blade of ice. The chill is thrilling. You think back to the story Seokmin always tells you. The scar on Chan’s ankle. The words of caution Joshua is always careful to remind you of.

“Y-you don’t look l-like the other—” You stop yourself from speaking because the shake in your voice is too much. You never even knew you could produce such a sound so potent in … fear? Enthrallment? Heat? You aren’t sure.

“The other what?” Slowly, he inches forward, and still you can’t find it in you to move away. You’re starting to think that you simply don’t want to.

His long, black hair wisps over his forehead and a few strands sit above his nose, and you can’t help but admire his natural elegance. He’s standing right next to you now, and as you look up at him, something in the back of your head buzzes.

Your ears are flooded with a white noise and some part of your brain is telling you you should be scared. You should be terrified, and you should wail for Joshua or Seokmin or Mingyu to come help but a much more convincing part of your brain tells you to stay put. To look up at this demon with wide eyes and parted lips. To whisper, “Demons. The other demons.”

He crouches over you now, so close that you feel his warm breath on your forehead. “Have you ever seen a demon?” You shake your head no, too afraid of the sound your throat might make if you try to speak.

He grins, and this time you don’t question the sincerity. He holds out a hand, and you think to yourself that such beautiful fingers could never taint skin like Chan’s.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs into the hazy air.

You don’t hesitate to take his hand.

Your magic comes back by the end of that day, and you are able to flutter your way up with Minghao’s name and a bidding farewell on your tongue.

You don’t tell the other fairies about what you do at night now. You don’t tell the other fairies how after everyone’s settled into their little abodes that linger from the branches, you creep out of your own. You don’t tell the other fairies about the beautiful views you see as you wisp through the trees, catching cool leaves on your skin as you slowly start to flutter down.

You don’t tell the other fairies of the little, illuminated pond you dip your toes into, or how when you turn around as your feet plant into the soil, Xu Minghao is already slipping into your line of vision from behind a thick trunk.

Dark cloth hangs off his chiseled figure, loose ends flowing with the night zephyrs. He sits on a rock by the pond as you cross your legs over on the verdant green grass, light dress splaying thinly over your thighs, skin shimmering under the moonlight.

He talks to you, tells you about his life, his friends. Every night, you listen with your lips slightly parted as you watch him and his dark hair. He teaches you about the ground, about the soft soil you sit upon, he teaches you about the roots of trees, about the little animals that scurry by the trunks, he teaches you that there is so much that lies beneath the tree tops, that there is so much you still don’t know.

Seungcheol laughed at Minghao earlier when he crept away from where he and his friends usually spend the night. “Going off to see your little fairy?” (Minghao wonders if the weird feeling in his stomach erupts from embarrassment at Seungcheol’s tone, or from a growing warmth when he refers to you as his.)

His friends find it a little funny—a fairy and a demon conversing at the dead of night, but he doesn’t really find it amusing at all.

Enthralling, would be the right word actually, because you come down every midnight where he teaches you, and he teaches you, and he teaches you so much, and your eyes are so beautiful, your voice so kind, your smile so bright, and so you teach him what it means for his heart to race.

You two sit together tonight, your hands neatly folded over your lap as you sit on your knees; Minghao sits next to you, legs out in front of him as he leans back on his arms. Under the light of the half moon above, you’re both silent.

You don’t have anything to say, not tonight. The cool air that sits between says enough.

Some time through the moments you sit in silence, Minghao has a hand brushing over your knee. The touch is gentle and cool like the breeze that washes over your bodies. He leaves his fingers there for a few, graciously long minutes, watching you from the corner of his vision to see if you’ll turn away.

He thinks he might lose his damn mind when you don’t move an inch. And so he moves an inch up your thigh, another inch and then he’s under the pretty petals of your skirt, another inch and then he’s almost brushing against the soft fabric that’s nestled between your legs.

Minghao watches you carefully—the way you chew on your bottom lip and your hands squeeze each other a little tighter and then—fuck, you’re squirming already?

“W-what are we doing Minghao?” you ask him so sweetly he feels he might melt into the ground and take you down with him. You have the vaguest of ideas of where this is going to go, and the thought makes your skin bloom with shivers.

“I …” His breath hitches in his throat when you look at him with eyes that look at him like he holds the universe. “I can show you.”

When you flutter your eyes shut, nodding as you whisper, “Show me,” into his mouth, Minghao wraps his arm around your torso and pulls you onto his lap. His kisses are slow but telling; pressing his lips into yours, tongue lapping at your mouth until you gasp and open yourself to him again. Legs locked around his sides as his hands grip onto your waist, your noses against each other in tandem in hopes to dig deeper into the kiss.

You’re shy against Minghao, lips working fervently—you can tell just from the way his fingers glide up and down your sides, the way his tongue melts into yours, the way he holds you—you feel so safe with him.

And then there he is, hands sliding beneath the skirt of your dress and bunching the shining fabric up to your waist; the cool air hits your skin as you gasp into Minghao’s mouth, hugging him closer instinctively. In doing so, you shift forward, core brushing dangerously close to the hardness between his dark pants, and you swear you hear Minghao mutter a curse you’ve never heard before. The sound makes your tummy do tumbles.

“You’ll let me take this off … hm?” he murmurs as he pulls away, fingers toying with the sheen hem of your skirt.

“Y-yeah,” you murmur, shuffling backwards so you slip off his lap. You lean back on your hands in the grass with a deep sigh, legs spreading out in front of you as Minghao climbs onto his knees. His fingers start at your ankle, and the way his hooded eyes watch you lustfully has your breath caught in your throat.

He slowly trails his fingers over your legs, starting from your calf and moving up until it’s brushing past your knees and suddenly his palms are pressing on your inner thighs and shoving your legs apart to reveal the pretty white panties that sit in the middle.

Your core buzzes with a heat, and you find your bottom lip clamped between your teeth as you try not to whine when Minghao’s finger grazes over the thin fabric. “M-mingh—hao,” you breath out, when he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck and sucks hard against the skin.

Your skin flushes with heat and a sharp sting when his teeth graze over you, but the small moan that leaves your lips sings a melody of pleasure as he swipes his tongue over the bruising mark. Your mouth falls wide open, neck falling back, and Minghao slots one hand between your legs, pressing the pads of two fingers against that one bundle of nerves that has you squirming into the ground.

“O-oh,” you mutter as your hips start to erratically swivel against his in hopes for more friction.

“Patience fairy,” Minghao sings in that sickly sweet tone of his. You wonder if he dropped from the treetops himself from the way he coos so kindly.

“It feels—oh … Oh, Minghao—”

“Tell me pretty … tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispers in a dangerously low tone, breath fanning over your neck in a way that sends shivers down your spine. Minghao traces methodical circles around your clit, and you can feel a warm wetness grow beneath your panties, causing the fabric to stick against your slick core.

You want to thrash in his arms and squirm into his hold—you want to let tears well up in your eyes and cry because everything’s feeling so good and you can’t think … can’t manage a single damn word.

“Feels—feels good,” you manage out in broken huffs of breath, legs spreading wider than you thought they could. Minghao chuckles as he lifts his head back to watch the way you tremble in front of him, and if you weren’t so dizzy on pleasure, you’d be burning from embarrassment.

“Yeah? Can make you feel even better if you …” He shrugs casually and gestures towards your dress and panties. “If you move some stuff out of the way.”

You don’t hesitate to yank at the straps of your dress, shoving them down haphazardly with trembling fingers. You’re on fire, if anything, and Minghao grins widely as he helps you desperately shimmy out of your clothes.

You start with the dress, flowy fabric slipping off your shoulders and falling down your stomach, finally pooling at your hips where Minghao takes control and pulls it off your legs. You’re left clad in only your panties which are now sheen with arousal, cool air pricking at your bare skin under the moonlight.

“Oh fairy,” Minghao nearily moans when you finally lay back down on the grass, tits bare and spilling all over your chest as your naked legs make room for him to sit between them. “So pretty … so naughty …”

“‘m not naughty,” you try to mumble, but the hoarse desperation in your voice gives you away. “J-just, wanna feel go—oh—good,” you finish with a heavy sigh when Minghao’s fingers are at your core again but this time, sliding your panties to the side to reveal your folds.

“Feeling good, huh pretty?” Minghao murmurs, not giving you a moment’s rest as he plunges his fingers right into the dripping mess. You cry out, back arching off the soft grass as you feel the length of his long, thick fingers slide between your pulsing folds.

“Oh, f-fu—” Your eyebrows furrow when you feel one finger circle around your glistening hole, causing your whole body to twitch with an ache you didn’t even know was possible to feel.

“Say it fairy, say it,” Minghao groans, hearing the dying words on your lips.

“It’s dirty,” you whimper, one hand shooting down to circle around his wrist as you try to guide his finger into your throbbing hole, but Minghao holds his stature firm.

“Say it, or I won’t make you feel good,” he threatens, and your eyes widen as a complaint bubbles at your throat. The way Minghao gives you that warning, predatory look shuts you right up.

“Oh—oh fuck,” you finally mewl. The way your plush lips let the word fall so kindly from your lips has Minghao’s head spinning, and he can’t even find it in him to control himself when he finally sinks his fingers into your hot cunt. “Minghao—”

“So scandalous, huh pretty?” Minghao asks you with condescension dripping from his tone as your eyes roll to the back of your head when he rubs his fingers against your gummy walls. “The perfect fairy … messing around with some fuckin’ mean-faced, bad, bad demon.”

“‘s’not like that,” you try to gasp out, core throbbing when he somehow sinks his fingers in deeper. Your legs writhe around Minghao, but his firm hand plants itself on your right thigh, pressing you down and into compliance.

He hums lowly, the sound rumbling deep in his throat as he watches you struggle to keep your composure; Minghao can see it already—the way your forearms tremble under your weight as you lose yourself to him entirely. “You sure fairy? ‘cause from what I’m seeing … it’s exactly like that.”

There’s a protest right at the tip of your tongue but then he grazes against this one spot inside your hot, tight cunt that has you crying out, head thrown back, eyes rolling all over the place until you’re panting: “M-Minghao it feels—oh, don’t stop!”

There’s a dark sort of grin that tugs at his plush lips as those words leave your mouth. With one eyebrow raised, he starts to fuck his fingers into you faster, thumb toying roughly with your clit as you mindlessly buck your hips into his hand. “Aw, my pretty’s gonna cum? You gonna cum?”

There isn’t a single thought in your mind, and even if there was, you wouldn’t be able to comprehend what Minghao was saying, yet still there’s that funny, burning feeling building in your stomach as all you know is that you don’t want to let it—you can’t let it stop. “Y-yeah,” you whimper as your walls tighten around his fingers. “Yeah … H-hao—I wanna cum.”

Minghao smirks at the slurred words, placing a kiss on your shoulder blade when he feels you spasm under him. “Cum for me, fairy,” he murmurs when you cry out his name, hands flying up to grip his shoulders as waves of pleasure crash down on you.

Broken words die at your lips as you erupt into high pitched moans , orgasm taking over you; Minghao sucks and nips at your neck until finally tracing his lips up to yours, engulfing you in a deep kiss as you ride out the high.

“There we go fairy, pretty fairy … looks so cute when she cums …” Minghao says once he finally pulls away, gazing down at your blown out eyes as you struggle to sit up right. Steadily, he lifts his hand from between your legs, tracing the warm stickiness across the insides of your thighs before holding it up in front of your face.

“Th-that’s—” You inhale deeply before continuing, still staring at the glistening arousal that coats his fingers. “—that’s embarrassing, Minghao,” you rush out, reaching out to swat his hand away, but he dodges and instead plunges the fingers in his own mouth.

His eyes don’t break away from yours, staring down at you in a way that has your sensitive core buzzing all over again with that sweet excitement. “You taste so good, pretty,” Minghao says lustfully, finally pulling his fingers out with a loud popping sound. He watches you carefully for a few moments—the way your pupils are dilated, your bare chest heaving gently, skin wearing a glossy layer of sweat, face flush with swollen lips …

Minghao wants to ruin you.

“You’ll let me do more, pretty?” he asks, and the way he peers down at you with dark, alluring eyes has your head nodding before you can even think to imagine what Minghao means by more. “Good fairy,” he purrs, crawling onto his knees back between your legs, nudging your thighs apart.

“What—what are we doing?” you ask him innocently, eyes widening when he reaches for the dark, ragged shirt that hugs his torso and pulls it off. Your first instinct is to reach out and touch because fuck, he’s beautiful, and you’ve always been one to admire the beautiful.

His body is firm with muscle, heavy round shoulders shining under the moonlight as you back into the ground. Minghao is on top of you now, hands on either side of your head as he hovers over you. “You’ll feel good,” he tells you, watching how you run your hands all over his sides as if you were a child being shown candy for the first time.

“Again?” you ask innocently, eyelashes batting up to look him in the eye as your hands instinctively find the waistband of his pants. Minghao lets one corner of his lips lift up in a half smile, nodding his head as if to tell you to go on.

“Yeah, again,” Minghao reaffirms, and you’d be lying if you didn’t squeeze your thighs just a little closer together at the thought. “We’ll feel good together,” he says, and oh this will mark the loss of your sanity, because something in your blood buzzes at the thought of Minghao feeling good right alongside you and you spiral.

Suddenly desperate, you’re yanking down his pants—you don’t even know what’s coming your way (have no clue really), but you also don’t care because you’re just so needy and you know (you just know) Minghao will give it all.

“There we go,” he coos, helping you out with one hand to shove down the dark pants and black underwear that sits beneath. His length springs out in an instant, firm as it hits against your inner thigh with a loud slapping sound that rings in your ears.

Eyes glossy as you mindlessly gaze down at him, your mouth watering at the mere sight of the flush red tip, milky white oozing out from the top and glittering under the minimal light. “You like the sight, fairy?” he asks, reaching to pinch your cheek lightly. Your nose scrunches up for a moment, but you soon lean into his touch when your eyes trail back down to his thick length.

“Y-yeah,” you admit bashfully, letting him shuffle closer between your legs until his length sits on your stomach, balls pressed against your puffy folds. The light contact has your head going dizzy already, and takes every ounce of self restraint to not moan at the feeling.

“G’na be right here here,” Minghao mutters, running his wet fingers over the base of his length, holding it up just to tap it back down on the base of your stomach. “Cock’s gonna fuck you all the way here,” and the thought of being so deep seems to be just as numbing to Minghao as it is to you because you catch the way he gulps down hard.

“Please,” you choke out when he shifts against you, his cock brushing against your throbbing clit a bit harder. “Please—fuck, I need it now, Hao—please.”

“Poor fairy,” Minghao groans, pulling his hips back so his cock no longer rests against your stomach but now slides between your sticky folds. “Poor, poor baby … begging a filthy demon for his cock.”

The way your cunt tightens around nothing at his words has you questioning everything anyone has ever told you, but the thoughts are wiped from your mind when his fat tip nudges against your now aching hole.

“Oh fuck, it’s s’big Minghao,” you murmur when he presses himself into you. “O-oh, I don’t—I don’ think s’gonna fit,” you gasp out when he slips in further, eyes stinging with tears of both pain and pleasure.

“You want to stop?” he asks, stilling his movements.

“No!” you exclaim, a little too quickly maybe, because your excitement has Minghao’s eyes darkening in a way that tells you you’re really in for it now. “I-I—no … I don’t want you to stop.”

“Hm,” Minghao hums while nodding. “Then there’s nothing to worry about,” he says casually in that low, gravely voice that has your breath getting stuck in your throat. “I’ll make it fit.”

Your legs tremble when he sinks his length into you even deeper, punching moans right out of your lungs and squirming under his arms until you feel his pelvis brush against your clit. You’re a babbling mess right now, Minghao having his chest pressed against yours as you whisper into his mouth about how it “feels so good,” how you “feel s’full,” how you’re “in love … so in love.”

“See fairy,” he murmurs, dragging his length out at a dangerously slow pace before shoving back into you at once so fast his balls slap against your skin with a harsh sting. “Made it fit, didn’t I?”

You wanna cry out and say yeah, yeah he fucking did, but your tongue feels like lead when you try to speak, only moans and squeaks of pleasure escaping your lips as his cock fucks into you faster. Minghao’s got one hand by your head, the other trailing all over your body—tracing the curves of your torso, cupping the flesh of your tits, playing with the sensitive nub of your nipple—you might as well be insane from the way your blood rushes at the feeling.

It’s so much—so, so, so much and you aren’t even sure how your body is taking it all, but there Minghao is, whispering sweet, dirty nothings by the shell of your ear.

“You like it? You like it don’t you fairy?”

“Wonder what the other fairies would think of this …”

“Moan louder pretty … put on a show for the whole damn forest, will you?”

It’s a muddled mess in your head, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you dig your heels into the ground to help thrust your own hips upwards to meet the snap of Minghao’s hips. The sloshing puddle of wetness between your thighs lets out obscene sounds that bounce off the trees around you. You wonder if you should be ashamed by how the sound makes your cunt clench.

“Put your hands up pretty,” Minghao grunts through sharp, pointed thrusts. The words fly over you for a moment, not understanding a bit of what he’s saying until his movements still and your eyes widen.

“W-what—why’d you—”

“Put your hands up.”

“S-sorry,” you moan in blind compliance, quickly lifting your hands and crossing your wrists above your head. Minghao’s larger hand is over them in an instant, pressing them into the soft grass as he goes back to fucking into you.

It’s messy now; hips jamming into hips in a passionately frantic pattern that has your body throttling in all kinds of directions until that familiar feeling balls inside of you once more. “Hao, ‘m gonna cum—”

“Wait. We’re supposed to feel together, right? Isn’t that right fairy?”

“Fuck!” you whine, hands thrashing under the strong hold Minghao has on you, desperate to touch him. “Don’t think I can wait, Minghao—oh—”

“You can do it fairy, do it for me,” he demands, punctuating the last word with a deep thrust that has your stomach feeling like it’s being pushed just to make room for him. “Hold it,” he orders, and you would be damned if you disobeyed Minghao, and so you dig your fingers into his back and pull him down for a deep kiss, trying to hold off from your impending orgasm.

He kisses you sloppily, and there’s tongue and teeth and lips all over each other until you’re both pantining into each others’ mouths. “Are you gonna cum?” you ask frantically when he pulls away, eyebrows furrowed with pure desperation. “Please—please, oh my g—Minghao, I need a cum!” you cry out as your walls begin to flutter and your legs begin to shake.

“Cum fairy—cum all over me,” Minghao groans when you tighten around his cock as he rails into you relentlessly, feeling his own end come near. “Lemme cum inside, pretty, fuck—”

Your mind spins at the thought of Minghao filling your hot cunt up and you can’t even think straight before you start to beg, “Yes, yes, yes please.”

“Fuck, gonna let me fill this fairy pussy all the way up, huh? Oh—pretty, fuck I’ll cum if you keep squeezing me like tha—oh.”

Something warm fills your core, walls spasming in an overstimulated mess as Minghao continues to fuck the oozing liquid back into you with vigor. “Shit—Minghao,” you whimper once his hips finally start to slow and eventually still, softening cock flopping out of your drenched folds.

His eyes are sharp as they watch you look up at him hazily. “That felt nice,” you murmur, swaying a little as the aftermath of two orgasms leaves you a trembling mess. Minghao is quick to reach for you, steadying you in his arms and onto his lap, bringing you in for a kiss.

It’s soft and sloppy, and you can feel your senses getting muddled up all over again as you cuddle into him. Minghao chuckles softly, looking down at your figure and then the dark trees that are around.

“Fuck, fairy …” He grins when he catches a glint of a dark eyed demon in the shadows. “You really put on a damn show, huh?”

(Minghao wonders how many times he’ll get to fuck you before Jeonghan starts telling the other demons about your guys’ little secret. Not that that’ll stop him anyways—he’s got the prettiest fairy in the whole damn forest at the palm of his hands, and he’d be damned if he let you go.)

#svt smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #minghao smut #minghao x reader #xu minghao #xu minghao smut #xu minghao x reader #the8 x reader #the8 smut #minghao fanfic #svr fanfic #📝 writing

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hysteria-things · 9 months ago

Note

U SHOULD MAKE A SMUT W CHRIS OR MATT INSPIRED BY THE SONG CARNIVAL BY KANYE AND CARTIII

bonus!

CARNIVAL

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s always a fun time at the carnival, but what happens when you and your boyfriend have a little too much fun at the top of the ferris wheel?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, oral (male receiving), p in v, spit kink, choking, finger sucking, public sex

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,058

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i sincerely apologize if this sucks i struggled so hard on it for no reason😃

ib: @guccifrog you can check theirs out here :)

the giant teddy bear that chris won for you is held tightly under your arm. it’s almost as big as you for christ sake. usually, the carnival would freak you out because of the clowns and loads of people, but tonight was going rather smoothly.

he pointed to the ferris wheel, his hand gripping yours that isn’t holding a stuffed animal. “let’s do that.”

you groan. “chris, you know i don’t like heights.”

in boyfriend fashion, he ignores you and drags you to the growing line for the ferris wheel. you sigh, getting jittery as chris smiles like a fool beside you.

waiting very (im)patiently, it’s your guy’s turn to get on. you go first and he sits next to you, the worker locking the door and making sure the two of you are sealed in.

slowly, the ride starts going up, your heart becoming faster the closer it gets to the tippy top. this isn’t some small ferris wheel, it’s one of those big ones that are scary.

with your luck, you guys stop abruptly at the very top. the rocking of the passenger car doesn’t help with your jitteriness.

although, the view is breathtaking. people from below look like aunts as they walk around the concrete and grass. the stars and moon shine just above your head, mixing in with the rainbow flickering lights illuminating from the carnival rides.

voices and laughter flow around the air, and the sound of the carnival helps you relax. having fun with your boyfriend is the key for tonight, not getting anxious over a silly ride.

he admires the way you look right now, staring in awe at the action happening at all angles. scanning your body, he can’t help but think how good of an opportunity this is; being that nobody can see you.

you’re surprised when his lips press firmly on yours, moving in sync like he’s starving for your taste. you don’t stop him. instead, you pull him closer by the face.

both of your tongues swirl in each other’s mouths, saliva quickly coating your lips. moaning at the feeling, he pulls his head away to breathe. some spit is smeared on your chin.

he smirks. “get on your knees for me.”

your teeth are caught between your bottom lip with excitement, happily seating yourself on the ground. chris’ boner peeks through his pants. “well don’t just stare at it.” he mumbles, rolling his eyes.

you pull down his pants and underwear in one go, the way his dick springs out has your mouth watering for more.

starting to move your head to his tip, he grabs your hair to stop you. “spit.” he demands, and you look at him through your eyelashes.

you listen, spitting on him as he groans. “fuck yeah.”

he moves your head down his dick, gagging the further you go. once you’ve fit it in your mouth, he lets go and lets you bob your head.

each time you reach his tip, you smear more of your saliva to drive him insane. it’s sloppy, but it turns you on either way.

his chest heaves, groaning lowly when his dick twitches inside of your throat. the choking and gulping noises have him chuckling. “i’m— shit.” he pauses, rutting his hips upward. “i’m g-gonna cum down your throat, ma. you’d like that, yeah?”

you hum, the vibration shooting through his cock. he grabs your head once again and forces you to stay there when he cums. he bobs your head a little more to make sure you swallow all of it before pushing you so your lips aren’t around him anymore.

you waste no time to stumble to your feet, pulling down your bottoms until they’re in a pile with chris’. he cocks a brow at this.

straddling his lap, you align yourself with him while looking into his eyes with lust. “you have to be quiet. there’s still people on the ride, you know.” he teases, grabbing your hips to pull you down.

you moan loudly at the way he fills you, and he grabs your throat which causes you to stop immediately. “what did i just say?”

you pout, grinding your hips in desperation. “god.” he whispers, pulling you in to kiss you open-mouthed. you whine into the kiss, messily moving your lips on his as if this is the last kiss you’ll ever have.

“open your mouth.” he whispers against them, and you obey. “wider,” he says through gritted teeth, opening open as wide as you can go.

he spits on your tongue, shoving two fingers into your mouth, the three other ones still wrapped around your throat.

your hips now bounce up and down on his dick, rolling your eyes back at how fucking great it feels. your moans are muffled around his fingers, drool making a mess on his digits and the sides of your lips.

it doesn’t take long for his tip to reach your g-spot which has you moving at a more rapid speed.

he removes his fingers and drags them on your bottom lip, looking at how well you take him. either whimpers or high-pitched moans leave you. it gets so bad that chris now has to put his hand over your mouth. “shut up.”

“i-it feels so fucking good!” you whine in his hand. “cu-umming soon.”

because his hand covers your sounds more, you moan as loud as you can once your body starts to shake.

the whole upper half of your body leans back, chris having to hold you so you don’t fall.

he waits until you cum all over his cock to release inside you, slowing down the movements of your hips when he does so.

you collapse on his chest, but it doesn’t last long when the ferris wheel finally starts to move. in all honesty, you forgot you were still on the ride.

the both of you curse, gathering your clothes before the ride reaches the bottom.

when it does, the worker gives you a weird look before opening the door. you grab the bear that you placed across from you guys and walk down the ramp that leads to the ground.

you guys still look dazed, but try your best to hide it.

people may or may not have heard you, but one person saw you…

that poor teddy bear.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon @elliesturniolo1

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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certainlynotasimp · 1 year ago

Note

Okay, first of all, how are you? Hope you’re doing well! Drink plenty of water, stay hydrated- Second off, your Sunny fics? *chef’s kiss* so mainly, what if anybody made Sunny cry and Miguel had to find out about it? And Sunny’s trying not to make it seem like a big deal in order to keep Miguel from, you know, absolutely obliterating anyone.

Come on, Baby, Cry.

((Miguel O' Hara X Female! Reader))

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you so much for the compliment. All my readers? *Extra chef's kisses* I am very hydrated and I got so excited to write this for you and to add some angsty content lol. I hope you enjoy this and let me know if you are disappointed or if you love it.

A/N: I also wanna address two things before I post this too. 1) thank you so much to the anon who asked me to include translations for the Spanish phrases as I was honestly not thinking about doing that. I will do better to include the translations at the end of the fics. 2) There are gonna be some triggering topics explored in this one-shot so if you don't want to hear about near injuries to children or child loss, then I understand if you don't want to read it. Feel free to enjoy my other fanfics and here's the post where you can stay notified on happier Sunny and Miggy fanfics.

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barely using (Y/N) ((Sunny is just their nickname, not their actual name.)), Female pronouns, PTSD, Mentions of Child Loss, Endangerment of a Child ((No children were actually hurt, just traumatized)), Trauma, Comforting, Fluff, Angry Miguel, and Google Translate Spanish.

The room fills with squeals and giggles as the chase between the chubby toddler and the jumping spider. Mayday swings her little self around the corridor as the young woman follows behind amused by how agile the little tyke was.

‘Maybe she’ll make a good sidekick in the future.’ The smiling woman muses in her mind before a bloody image flashes in her mind. Shaking her head, she clears the idea out of her mind as Mayday reaches an open window.

Her quick scream of horror as she accidentally swings herself out of the window causes the woman’s blood to run cold as she flings herself out of the window after her. “MAYDAY!”

The adrenaline coming from her heightened fear causes the whole thing to appear to be trapped in time as the spider woman falls with the screeching infant falling inches away. Tears clouded her vision as she shoots out her webbing to the pillars around them as the images of flames lick at her eyes.

So many flames, and too many buildings at once. Screams and pleas from below as she tries to be there. They didn’t matter to her, not at that moment. The only one who mattered was him. Did he scream like that too or did he not even feel it?

Using her webbing, she quickly creates a hammock for Mayday to fall on a few feet from the ground, thankfully trapping the wailing infant so she can’t escape. Unfortunately, reality doesn’t set in time for the spider as she slams into the titanium flooring below, knocking the air out of her lungs.

Many spidermen gathered as they heard the commotion, but she could only focus her blurry vision above her as she tries to regain her sight. A familiar blur of bright pink swings up and grabs the ball of ginger hair in a muddled mess of cries. He quickly drops down to where the disoriented woman was splayed out below with the whimpering infant in his arms.

“Hey, Sunny, you alright?” Peter calls his friend. The damage didn’t look bad from the outside, but he was sure she had some nasty concussion with how she was looking at him.

Hobie crouches down beside the crumbled girl and carefully lifts her head up with one hand. “Oi, Sunshine, you there?” He mutters as he looks into her eyes. He holds up his hand and makes three fingers pop up. “How many fingers do you see, love?”

With a cough, the woman croaks out, “Three?” Her eyes begin to focus as her enhanced healing works out the stars in her vision. With the help of Hobie and Peter, she stands up with a whimper at the feeling of her shattered ribs forming back together. “Damn, I forgot that falling several feet actually hurt.” She attempts to joke despite her wheezing breath. The crowd around them laughs as Peter sighs in relief.

“Thank god, you’re alright.” Peter mourns as a glint of regret shines in his eyes. “I’m sorry for all this, Sunny. I shouldn’t have let her bring the web shooter here. She almost swings herself out of the window all the time and MJ told me that one day I won’t be there to help the next time it happens.” Mayday’s cries end as she sees her favorite play partner up and well as she shows off her gummy smile.

“Well, luckily I was here to save the day.” The disoriented spider muses as she returns the infant’s smile as the men chuckle. The crowd dissipates leaving the injured spider with her two friends.

“I’m still really sorry, P. I got distracted and didn’t see that the window was open.” She winces as she blames herself for being so neglectful.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. This little rascal will probably send me to an early grave with all the mischief she causes.” Peter jokes as he tickles his now roaming daughter, chuckling at her excited squeals.

“Good thing you don’t have a kid, Sunny.” Hobie chuckles. “You would lose them in a heartbeat.”

The bright atmosphere shatters as the woman abruptly pulls away from her friends. The men look at her confused until they saw the look in her eyes. The normal warm and inviting gaze that they all thrived under was gone, only a dark void was staring back at them. Their light now shining in hurt and sadness as memories cloud her mind. Her lip trembles in a tight line as tears begin to roll down her face.

Hobie looks confused at the sudden shift, but Peter realizes something as he looked at his trembling friend. Her eyes burned with tears as they locked with his. She had a haunted look about her. It's a look only parents can ever understand and fear. The look Peter himself almost experienced. “Hey,(y-” Before Peter can comfort her, she activates her mask and turns invisible before running off, her muffled sobs leaving them speechless.

Hobie groans as he realizes two things. One, he just made the sweetest person in the world cry. And Two,...

Miguel is gonna kill him.

~~~~~~~

The warm glow of the portal illuminates the surveillance room as the blue spider steps out covered in a musty yellow goo. Lyla smirks as she observes the little chucks slipping onto the ground as Miguel attempts to dust off the slime from his large shoulders.

“Was your mission successful, boss?” The assistant snarks as she sends out a little robot to follow the annoyed Spiderman. The little bug-like contraption eagerly swallows up the disgusting mess Miguel left as he walks up to the platform. “The anomaly was captured and disposed of. Next time, warn me if William Baker is made of anything except sand.” He grumbles as the sound of the little robot annoyed him even more.

“I’ll make a note of that.” The AI giggles as she downloads the mission info from Miguel’s gizmo. “Also ‘Miss Sunshine’ is here and she doesn’t seem too happy.” She says before fading out.

Miguel’s eyes widen upon hearing that his sunny partner was upset. She was never upset. Never. With concern eating away at him, Miguel shoots out a web and swings himself to the platform above. He lands softly as he sees the scene in front of him.

His sunshine sat in his usual seat in front of the monitor. Her costume was dirty with a chest compression brace wrapped around her ribs as her choked sobs wheeze out of her. Her mask was off as her head rested against the ice pack in her hand, her back leaned forward as her attention was focused on the image before her.

He already knew what was on the screen.

He knew that file name by heart just like how he knows Gabriella’s.

File SW-0001425

World 16457-0

Spider-Woman- (Y/N) (L/N)

Age of infection- 23

Occupation- Intern Medical Research Assistant in the Genetics Department of { REDACTED } working under Dr. {REDACTED}

Sacrifice: Ben (L/N), age 4, Son of (Y/N) (L/N), 1 year into being Spiderwoman

Cause of death: Blunt Force trauma and Smoke inhalation caused by a multi-location attack caused by { REDACTED}

Status of Universe: DESTROYED

On the screen, the laughing face of a younger Sunny shines as a chubby cheek of a baby boy with dark curls smooshes into hers. The faint sound of a child mimicking the smooch of a kiss can be heard as the overexaggerated gasp of the woman causes the toddler to squeal. “That was such a sweet kiss, Benny. Can mommy have another one?” The sweet voice soured the air as the sobbing woman mournfully watches her baby boy.

The baby she failed.

Miguel approaches behind her and slowly takes the mouse from her weak grasp. The broken woman sighs as she realizes her miggy is here with her now, but doesn’t turn to look at him as he pauses the video. Her baby’s matching eyes stare right back at her before Miguel turns the chair around to face him as his mask disintegrates. His eyes glow red under the light of the monitors as he searched her sore eyes. Her face was red with a noticeable bruise along the left side of her face. Tears and snot crusted over her soft features as her lips remained turned into a trembling whisper. Her pupil shone in self-loathing and searching for his comfort. He could tell that this episode isn’t just one of her low days, something happened.

Something happened and he wasn’t here to stop it.

Miguel closes his eyes as his hand caresses her cheek. The warmth of her flushing face nuzzling into his palm allowed him to ground his rage as he focuses his gaze back onto his beloved.

“Mi luz, ¿qué pasó?” He seethes as he looks deep into her eyes.

She shakes her head as she tries to avoid looking into his concerned ruby gaze. The glass bridge was already cracked as she internally debated with sobbing everything that happened into his warm embrace or to protect her friend from the wrath she knows Miguel will unleash if he knows what was said. The warmth of his other palm cupping her cheek, guiding her to a wandering eye to look at his frowning face nearly broke her.

“It was nothing, Miggy…”She whispered as her voice trembled again. She tried to control her eyes from unknowingly confessing while she tries to bite the wobbling pout. “It was an accident…”

“What.” Miguel runs his thumb under her abused mouth as a piece of her disheveled hair was swept back. “Happened?” His demand is punctuated as he holds her in his stare. His eyes burned with barely contained fury and protectiveness as he studied her reactions. “Odio verte como la suya, mi amor.” He admits with a sigh.

Leaning forward, Miguel places a firm kiss on her forehead as his beloved’s breath shudders at his touch. The gentle heat under his touch left her trembling as the glass began to crack. “Let me ease your pain…” He whispers as he trails his kisses down to her eyelids. “These eyes are meant to be filled with happiness, not sorrow…” The cracks deepen as he gently kisses her nose. “I can’t undo what has happened…” The corners of her lips were caressed by his as his nose brushed against her cheeks causing her eyes to meet his mirrors. Her sorrow and helplessness are reflected in his ruby eyes as he kneels on the ground between her legs. A silent plea breaks the resolve she built as he mutters into her ear.

“Please, mi sol, at least let me feel your pain too…It's me and you against the universe remember…Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo.” He begs as the tension shatters.

With her arms snaking around his shoulders, the little spider confesses all that happened hours prior into his ear. Each detail, each scar, burned into his mind as she clung to his neck and hair. His inferno of rage almost imploded until he looked back into her eyes again. The relief of letting go of all of her troubles made her face look years younger as she looked at him with her big vulnerable eyes.

Hobie will have to wait. His love needed him now.

In a silent nod, Miguel wrapped her weak legs around his waist before he stood up. Feeling her snuggling into his throat, he carries her toward her room down the hallway while the annoying robot follows them to clean up the mess. As he enters the room, he releases some of his anger by smashing the bug with his foot.

“What was that, Miggy?” She croaks as she weakly tries to look over his shoulder.

“Just a bug,” He sighs as he approaches her dresser and grabs his spare set of clothes from his drawer. “You want your clothes or mine?”

“Yours…” She shyly admits as he feels the heat returning to the cheek on his neck.

“Muy bien, niña bonita. Lo que quieras.” He whispers as he grabs another set of clothes that he knows will swallow her. With that, he carries them into her personal bathroom and spent the night slowly bringing back his sunshine.

~~~~~~~~

A deep scream rings out through the Lobby as they see a flash of blue fury tackles the residential metal head into the ground. Peter hurries to save his colleague along with a few other Spidermen as Mayday laughs at the anarchist getting thrashed by the clawed man spewing Hispanic curses at him.

~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Mi luz, ¿qué pasó? - My light, what happened?

mi sol - my sun

Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo. -Please don't leave me alone...I don't want to lose you again

~~~~~~~

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#spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fandom

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moonlitstoriess · 5 months ago

Text

Across the Universe-ch.10 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warnings: Depictions of violence, Blood, Suggestive themes but nothing explicit yet.

See masterlist

She was falling, and there was only darkness around her. The sensation of weightlessness gripped her stomach as the air rushed past her ears, drowning out all other sounds. Panic surged through her veins like a cold river, but she fought against it, trying to make sense of her surroundings.

Just as she felt herself descending endlessly into the abyss, a faint glimmer of light appeared far below. It beckoned to her like a distant star in the night sky, offering a glimpse of hope amidst the darkness. Instinctively, she began to reach out, desperate to grasp onto anything that could anchor her.

As she neared the light, its warmth enveloped her, dispelling the shadows that had threatened to consume her. She landed softly on solid ground, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the fall. Looking around, she realized she was in a vast, ethereal forest, where the trees shimmered with an otherworldly glow.

A gentle breeze whispered through the leaves, carrying with it a sense of tranquility that eased her troubled mind. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the fresh, crisp air of this mysterious place. Despite the initial fear of falling, she now felt a strange sense of peace settling over her.

In the distance, a figure emerged from behind a tree, moving gracefully towards her. It was Elara whom y/n had met once before in an illusion. Elara's eyes glowed with ancient knowledge, and her presence exuded a quiet strength that commanded respect.

"Welcome," Elara's voice was soft yet resonant, echoing through the forest. "You have arrived at the threshold between worlds. This place exists beyond time and space, where the threads of destiny intertwine."

Y/n hesitated for a moment, the memory of their previous encounter flickering in her mind. Elara had been enigmatic then, offering cryptic guidance that had puzzled her. But now, facing her again in this ethereal realm, y/n sensed a deeper understanding stirring within her.

"Who...who are you really?" y/n finally managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elara's smile was serene, her gaze unwavering. "I am Elara, keeper of secrets and guide to those who seek truth. You have been chosen to walk this path, where illusions and reality converge."

"But....I thought you were an Ironteeth Witch."

"That, I am. But I am also much more than just my blue blood. I have a gift. I am a chosen one, just like you."

Y/n felt a surge of curiosity mixed with apprehension. "Why am I here?"

Elara's expression grew solemn. "You carry a burden that spans worlds, y/n. The gates are weakening, and darkness stirs in the depths. You hold the key to restoring balance, but first, you must awaken to your true purpose."

"And what is my purpose? My true power? I need answers and I am running out of time, Elara."

Elara regarded y/n with a steady gaze, her eyes reflecting the weight of centuries of knowledge and wisdom. She spoke slowly, her voice carrying a mystical resonance that seemed to echo in the chamber.

"Your purpose, young one, is intertwined with the very fabric of existence itself. The gates between worlds, ancient and powerful conduits, are in flux. They respond to your essence, your unique connection to the Book of Breathings. It is through this connection that you hold the key to their stability."

She paused, as if gathering her thoughts before continuing.

"To close the gates, you must understand their nature. The Book of Breathings, entrusted to you, contains the knowledge needed to recalibrate their energies. As for returning home, it is tied to your mastery over these gates. With each gate closed, the threads that bind you to this world and others will align, guiding you back to where you belong. Your journey will test your resolve, but trust in your abilities and those who stand beside you."

She placed a hand gently on y/n's shoulder.

"Remember, your power lies not just in spells or artifacts, but in your heart's conviction and the bonds you forge. Embrace your destiny with courage, for in doing so, you will shape the fate of worlds."

Y/n cast her a questioning look. "What about the Valgs? Does the Book of Breathings contain a text telling how to end them forever?"

"It does but so does another book. You do not need to get the Book of Breathings in order to find out how to end them."

Y/n's eyes widened "What?! Which book is it?! Tell me!"

But Elara just stepped back, expression softening slightly, showing a glimmer of compassion in her eyes.

"Be careful. You were lucky this time that you fell here instead of wherever the Valgs intended for you."

Y/n's mind raced with questions, but before she could speak, Elara raised a hand, silencing her with a gentle gesture.

"Listen," Elara said, her voice tinged with urgency. "Time is fluid here. The path ahead is fraught with challenges, but trust in your instincts and embrace the truths that unfold before you."

With those cryptic words, Elara began to fade, her form blending into the shimmering foliage of the forest. Y/n reached out instinctively, but her hand passed through empty air.

And then....

It was bright. Too bright, in fact.

She could hear some noises around her, but she couldn't open her eyes. Her senses were coming back but why did her body feel this heavy? Everything felt really fuzzy. It seems like she has no energy because she can't even move her finger.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and even though everything was a blur, y/n knew that she was in her own room-

Oh, so that's why it is eye-blindingly bright in this room. Couldn't they draw the drapes over the window?

She grunted slightly and tried moving her arm to cover her eyes when a pair of hands gently put her it back down.

She said in a broken voice, "Bright. Water."

"Eva, pull the drapes over the window. Elide, go pour some water from the pitcher."

Her vision was still unfocused, but she could see a curly haired figure sitting beside her, caressing her hair gently.

As the drapes were drawn, the harsh sunlight dimmed to a more tolerable glow in the room. Y/n blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision as Elide returned with a glass of water, which she held out to her.

"Here, drink slowly," Elide said, her voice calm and reassuring.

Y/n took the glass with trembling hands, bringing it to her lips and sipping cautiously. The cool water was a relief against her parched throat.

Her gaze started focusing better and she saw that it was Yrene who was sitting next to her bed.

The healer leaned closer as Eva asked slowly, concern evident in her voice, "How are you feeling?"

Y/n managed a weak smile. "Like a large boulder was thrown at me," she muttered hoarsely. "What happened?"

Eva looked at Elide who in turn, looked at Yrene, both expecting the healer to explain the situation to y/n.

Yrene sighed before looking at her with a softened gaze, "A servant attacked you during dinner. We all tried fighting her, seperating her from you but she was very strong. As strong as someone who is posessed by a Valg could be atleast. She was too fast, but in the end, Fenrys managed to land a blow to her back when she was busy attacking Rowan. Even though she tried, she failed to choke you completely."

Elide sat near her on the bed. "But she did leave some nasty marks which is why Isolde had to bandage you up."

Y/n nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and bewilderment. "Thank you," she managed to say, her voice hoarse. She winced as she gingerly touched her injured arm, where the servant's claws had left angry marks. The pain was a sharp reminder of just how close the encounter had been.

"I tried to heal you but for some reason Isolde insisted on kicking us all out of the room and healing you herself."

Y/n smiled slightly, knowing the healer probably thought that she wouldn't want others to see her scars.

But, her gratitude soon turned into confusion. "What happened to the girl? Did she get away?"

Eva fluffed the pillows behind her and gently pushed y/n back down as she replied, "Oh don't worry, Aelin and the others are taking care of that as we speak. Yrene got the Valg out of her."

Before y/n could speak, he continued "Right after the attack, while Rowan, Aedion and Chaol managed to take her away with the help of other guards, Fenrys scooped you up in his arms and winnowed you to Isolde. He was livid! Absolutely crazy! Yrene left to help them the second Isolde kicked everyone out, Aelin and Manon followed after they were sure that you wouldn't die while Lysandra, Fenrys and I stood behind, with you."

"Fenrys stayed with me?"

Yrene nodded her head "Yes, he was acting like a madman. Even went as far as to threaten Isolde that if she failed to save you, he would personally kill the healer himself-"

"What?!"

"Yes, yes once we were sure that you were alive just unconscious, he calmed down slightly and ended up apologizing like a million times to her. Anyhow, for the past two days we have all just been looking over you. Fenrys literally lives at your doorway by now with the amount of times he stands or sits there while we look after you."

Fenrys visited her that often? The realization made a warm, comforting feeling make its way to her heart. A feeling she thought was dead after Azriel destroyed her.

Elide put her hand on y/n's stomach, caressing her gently as she said "He is either here or wherever they are keeping the servant, questioning her. Aelin says that the girl doesn't speak to anyone but Rowan so they are letting him do the questioning."

"And what does she say?"

Yrene just shook her head "She just began speaking this morning and everyone left the second Rowan called them. So, we stayed behind, making sure you were fine."

Y/n nodded her head, dizziness taking over her as she slowly let her eyes close.

When she opened her eyes once again, it was dark outside, dark everywhere and there was no one in the room-

No. There was someone.

She could feel eyes on her. His eyes. He was in the room with her, watching her from somewhere in the dark.

She could sense how Fenrys’ eyes roamed all over her, the intensity within them burning a hole through her. The tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

Heat began gathering all over her body, pooling in her lower belly. Well, if he is going to sit in the dark, watching her, she might as well give him a performance. She wouldn’t be the only one feeling this hot and bothered.

Y/n sat up and stretched her legs and arms out, arching her back. The tingly sensation of stretching out caused her to let out a satisfied moan, loud enough to be heard in this dark room. Loud enough for the scent of Fenrys’ arousal to reach her.

“Heard you had been by my side the whole time I was unconscious.”

She lit up the candle near her while Fenrys came into view as he took up a seat on the small couch near the window and looked at her with an intense gaze, his onyx eyes somehow seeming even darker.

“Couldn’t have you dead in our world.”

“So, that is the reason?”

“What other reason would there be?”

“Your arousal tells a different story, Fen.”

"The girl said that she remembers nothing. We also found no collars, rings or bracelets on her which meant only one thing, the Valg have changed their game and are infesting others with a different way."

So he chose to ignore her comment. Very well, then.

She sighed "Well, maybe they do not need an object to invade someones mind anymore."

At his questioning gaze, she continued "Do you all have mental shields? Maybe yours are just too weak, allowing the Valg to enter as they please."

"What is that?"

What? He didn't know what a mental shield was?

Her eyes widened "Now I think I know why those parasites were able to destroy you all easily from within. In my world, Rhysand taught me and everyone else how to create mental walls, to protect our minds from any enemy. The Valgs wouldn't be able to enter my mind even if they tried because of how strong my walls are. Maybe I should teach you all so that none of you will be under any threat."

Fenrys nodded slightly, his gaze not wavering from her "That would be very useful....thank you."

Y/n didn't know why she smiled slightly while blushing but she did and she couldn't stop it.

"You look very beautiful with your hair down."

She turned her head back at Fenrys who was staring at her with genuine adoration.

"You have never seen me with my hair down?"

When she saw him shake his head slightly, she scoffed "Of course you have. When I first fell into your world, my hair was all over the place."

He chuckled quietly "Yes, but it was still tied. Never fully free. And since then you never let your hair loose in here."

She looked down at her lap, covered in the bedsheet "I tend to tie my hair in foreign environments where I don't feel safe. Even in Velaris, it took me some time to let my hair loose in front of the others. Guess it was that instinct all over again while I was here."

She heard him get up from his seat and slowly step closer as he asked, "Why?"

Well, she couldn't tell him why. She couldn't tell him that it was something she had been doing since she was old enough to understand. That when she still lived with him, he would beat her up if her hair was free and unbound. It always triggered something in him. And that was something she could never get rid of, not even long after his death.

So she simply said, "I don't know. Just something I always did."

Fenrys sat on her bed, right next to her and when she lifted her head to look at him, her breath caught in her throat because of how close they were. Their arms were so close that, if any of them even moved an inch, they would be touching.

He whispered while not taking his eyes away from hers, "You look beautiful. You always did, but now, you look even better."

She raised an eyebrow "So you openly admit to that?"

His expression remained serious "I never lie. Even if we may not like each other, I will never lie to you. You are very attractive."

Y/n was genuinely surprised at his bluntness and he clearly must have seen it on her face because he just smiled slightly and said, "I think that I enjoy seeing you shocked."

Y/n slightly leaned closer and heard how he sharply inhaled as she said with a smirk, "Well Lord Fenrys, you are very attractive as well."

She saw the lust slowly return to his gaze as her own body began heating up, goosebumps rising all over her skin at the look on his face.

She came even closer, her arm touching his, as she whispered "Do you remember the time in the training area where I told you that ladies must be blind if they choose to sleep with you? I lied. You are very....tempting."

What was wrong with her? What was she saying? This was wrong. So very wrong on so many different levels but did she care at that moment? No. Not even a single bit.

Maybe it was because of the lack of any sexual activity in her life recently, or maybe it was because she was still slightly dizzy and probably needed to eat something to get into a right state of mind but she did not care.

Fenrys just admitted that he found her beautiful. Why not reciprocate the feeling? Why not tease him....and hope for him to do something about it to her? It was in the dark of the night anyway. Come morning, and they would both act like this never happened. Just for tonight.

You said that same thing when you were in the forest of The Whispering Path with him. When you cuddled him to sleep.

But y/n chose to ignore that little sensible voice inside of her.

Fenrys' eyes darkened as he said in a low voice, "Don't start something you can't finish, little trouble."

"Promises, promises."

He fully pressed his arm to hers as he came so close, their lips were merely inches apart "You are injured and need rest. Wouldn't want your injuries to hurt more than they already do because believe me y/n, when I fuck, I do it like a wolf. Rough and wild. No lady was ever left unsatisfied with me."

And with that, he immediately got up but before he could leave, she said loud enough for him to hear, "I- I mean, we may not like one another but that doesn't erase the clear fact that for some reason, we both desire one another."

He did not look back as he reached the door, but she could hear the smirk on his face as Fenrys said, "Check your night stand before going to sleep again." and then, he closed the door behind him, leaving her alone in the room.

Y/n let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and turned her head to the nightstand on her left to see a bowl of soup, warm bread and a glass of water near it. Did Fenrys just bring her food before she woke up?

Her lust turned into gratitude as her stomach grumbled a noise that informed her of her impending hunger. With a small smile, y/n took the bowl of soup with the bread, and began eating while overthinking what just happened.

But, she couldn't sleep. The fact that she had three days of sleep was enough to make her get up from bed and carefully change her clothes-

Mother above....the injuries clearly were bad if the amount of bindings on her shoulders, collarbones and neck were any indicator. Her neck? Really? It just got healed and now it is ruined again.

But apart from all that happened between her and Fenrys right now, she also had a million other thoughts. But the main one was 'How do the Valgs know of her?'

This whole thing was getting worse by the minute and she really was getting fed up with it all. If she couldn't sleep, might as well go out and explore the area. Find some answers, if she is lucky. It is the middle of the night anyway, no one will notice her flying.

Y/n winced when she moved her shoulder to flap her wings, but ignored it nonetheless as she flapped them a few more times before shooting up into the sky from her balcony.

She soared through the night sky, the cool breeze whispering against her wings as she glided over the palace rooftops. Her wings beat rhythmically, carrying her effortlessly through the darkness.

The forests here were truly big, seeming to go on for eternity which made her doubt if there even was a city here. But, all that suspicion got washed away the second she flied over the last couple of trees because what came after it made her eyes widen in awe.

From above, the city sprawled like a patchwork quilt stitched together by narrow streets and sprawling rooftops. Y/n's wings carried her effortlessly over the labyrinthine alleys, each one illuminated by the soft glow of flickering lanterns and the occasional dim streetlight. The city's heartbeat echoed through the night—a distant symphony of murmurs, laughter, and the rhythmic bustle of evening commerce.

Clusters of buildings rose in haphazard clusters, their architecture a blend of ancient stone facades and more recent timber constructions. Below, winding roads snaked through the city like veins, occasionally giving way to hidden courtyards and market squares that were currently empty due to it being late.

As she glided higher, the city unfurled beneath her—a living, breathing organism with a pulse all its own. The river that wound through its heart shimmered silver under the moon's gentle gaze, bridges arching gracefully over its tranquil waters. Beyond the city's borders, rolling hills and dense forests stretched into the horizon, their outlines softened by the veil of night.

This place reminded her of Velaris except it was much more quieter. Not in a bad way, no. Velaris was the city of starlight so it made sense why the streets there were always bustling, shops and cafes, music and art, everything was always open, lights were everywhere, making that place look like a giant lamp. This place however, seems to be more active during the day rather than night time, its residents would go back to their homes, leaving the streets mostly empty while fireflies would light up the way, creating a comforting glow. Seems like the residents of Terrasen prefer calm and quiet over loud noises and fun.

As she ventured farther from the palace, her keen eyes caught a glimpse of movement below—a figure moving with an eerie swiftness along the deserted streets. Curiosity piqued, y/n angled her flight path downwards, silently descending towards the shadowy figure.

With practiced ease, she landed on the edge of a rooftop nearby, her wings folding neatly against her back. Peering over the ledge, she watched as the figure navigated through narrow alleys and hidden passages, clearly trying to avoid detection.

Just as she prepared to resume her pursuit, another shape emerged from the darkness—a man with a cloak drawn tightly around him, his posture alert and purposeful.

As if he could feel her presence, the stranger lifted his head, their gazes colliding, and....she would recognize those gray eyes anywhere. It was that man, the messenger that appeared in her room when she first came here. Aelin said he was her messenger, what was his name again? Noah? No, but definitely something starting with N.

What was he doing here? Seems like he is also following this suspicious being. Whatever the case is, they both were after the same person, they could cooperate now, discuss later. Y/n gestured downwards, indicating the person she had been tracking. Nox nodded in understanding, silently joining her in the pursuit.

Together, they weaved through the night sky, maintaining a cautious distance from their target. Y/n's wings carried her effortlessly, allowing her to match the culprit's swift pace without alerting them to her presence.

As they followed the suspect deeper into the heart of the city, Y/n and Nox exchanged silent signals, coordinating their movements to avoid detection. They skirted rooftops and glided over bustling market squares, always keeping the suspicious person within sight.

The figure reached the outskirts where the city melded into the woods beyond. Without hesitation, she angled her wings and descended, aiming for a quiet landing on the outskirts of the city where the trees began to thicken and envelop the landscape.

The forest greeted her with a symphony of rustling leaves and distant nocturnal calls. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting ethereal patterns on the forest floor. Y/n moved swiftly and silently, her senses heightened as she navigated through the dense underbrush, careful not to disturb the nocturnal creatures that stirred at her passing.

Ahead, a flicker of movement caught her attention—a figure moving stealthily between the trees. Y/n approached cautiously, her heart pounding in anticipation. As she drew closer, she recognized it to be the messenger.

"It's you," Y/n said in a hushed voice, stepping out from behind a tree.

Nox turned sharply, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his dagger before he recognized her. He let out a breath before saying "What are you doing out here, y/n?"

She crossed her arms "Doing exactly what you are doing....?"

He saw her furrow her eyebrows, trying to remember his name and just smirked before giving her a mocking bow "Nox Owens, at your service, though, Aelin is the only one I serve."

She rolled her eyes playfully as his gaze took her fully in "Well, you are looking even more attractive than the last time I saw you, that's for sure."

"Um....thanks? You too?"

He let out a low chuckle at that "Very well y/n, I think we are both here for the same reason. We both think this person is Valg."

"How did you end up following them?"

He just smirked "A good spy never tells his secrets."

She raised an eyebrow "Spy? I thought you were a messenger."

He patted her shoulder before moving past her "A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Now, let's see where the weird suspect is going, yes?"

She sighed but decided to follow him. Two was better than one and its not like she could just go back to sleep after seeing this.

Y/n nodded, falling into step beside Nox as they quietly pursued the elusive figure through the dense forest. The canopy overhead filtered the moonlight into patches of silver on the forest floor, casting eerie shadows around them.

They moved with practiced stealth, their footsteps barely making a sound on the soft ground. Y/n kept her senses sharp, scanning their surroundings for any sign of movement or disturbance. Nox moved ahead slightly, his movements fluid and silent as he navigated through the underbrush.

Y/n and Nox pushed forward, their senses sharp and focused on tracking down the mysterious figure. The forest grew thicker as they pursued their quarry deeper into the night. Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy above, casting ghostly shadows that seemed to dance with every rustle of leaves.

They followed the faint sounds of movement, darting between trees and over fallen logs. Y/n's wings twitched with anticipation, ready to take flight if needed, while Nox moved with the quiet agility of someone who knew the woods well.

The figure they pursued seemed to be skilled at evasion, leaving behind only fleeting traces—a broken twig here, a disturbed patch of moss there. Each time they drew close, it slipped away into the darkness like a wisp of smoke.

After what felt like an eternity of pursuit, they found themselves at the edge of a steep ravine. Moonlight illuminated the chasm below, its depths shrouded in an impenetrable darkness. Y/n peered over the edge cautiously, scanning for any sign of movement.

Nox moved silently beside her, his gaze scanning the opposite side of the ravine. "They must have crossed here," he murmured, pointing to a narrow log that bridged the gap between the two sides.

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding with a mixture of adrenaline and frustration. "We can't lose them now," she said determinedly, preparing to cross the precarious bridge.

Just as she took a step forward, a low growl rumbled through the underbrush, causing both of them to freeze in their tracks.

Out from the dense foliage slithered a grotesque creature, its form a nightmarish amalgamation of human and beast, warped by the dark magic of the Valg. Its skin was mottled with sickly hues of gray and green, shimmering unnaturally in the dim light filtering through the canopy. Sinewy muscles bulged beneath its coarse, leathery hide, twitching with an unsettling energy.

The creature's eyes glowed with a malevolent light, pupils dilated into vertical slits like those of a predatory cat. Its elongated limbs ended in razor-sharp talons that scraped against the mossy ground, sending sparks of magic-infused energy dancing into the air. Fanged jaws parted in a hiss, revealing rows of jagged teeth stained with a viscous, black ichor.

As it advanced with a serpentine grace, the air around them seemed to thicken with dread. Nox instinctively drew his dagger, his knuckles whitening around the hilt. Y/n tightened her grip on her own weapon, heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. They exchanged a fleeting glance, silently communicating their readiness to confront the abomination before them.

With a primal roar, the Valg-spawned creature lunged forward, its movements unnaturally swift and erratic. Nox reacted first, darting to the side to evade its slashing claws, then swiftly counterattacking with a series of calculated strikes aimed at vulnerable joints and exposed flesh. His blade sliced through the creature's hide with a sickening squelch, drawing dark blood that sizzled upon contact with the forest floor.

Y/n's heart raced as she faced the twisted Valg-spawned creature in the dimly lit forest. With each swing of its monstrous limbs, fear and determination battled within her. As the creature lunged, she ducked and rolled away, narrowly avoiding its razor-sharp claws.

Adrenaline surged through her veins, heightening her senses. A strange sensation tingled in her teeth and fingertips, as if they were responding to some ancient call. In a moment of desperation, she gritted her teeth and felt the unusual hardness spreading through them. And just like the last time, her teeth elongated and hardened into gleaming iron fangs.

Her nails followed suit, transforming into formidable claws with a metallic sheen. The ancient magic of her bloodline awakened within her.

With newfound resolve, Y/n faced the creature head-on. Her iron teeth sank deep into its toughened hide, eliciting a startled roar of pain. She slashed with her iron claws, each strike delivering a resounding impact. The creature recoiled, its dark eyes filled with surprise and fury.

Beside her, Nox adjusted his stance and joined the fray. His dagger flashed with lethal precision as they fought in tandem, exploiting weaknesses and creating openings. Y/n's iron-enhanced strikes complemented Nox's swift movements, turning the tide of battle in their favor.

But, their luck was short lived as in an impossibly quick move, the creature managed to lunge for y/n, pinning her to the ground. She screamed in pain as her injuries harshly landed on the cold earth. When Nox tried to attack it, the creature used its long, slithery and heavy tail to push him into the rift.

"NO!"

Y/n's words were cut short as the horrifying thing bared its long, black and sharp fangs at her, readying to rip her apart. She would die now. It was time. She would die and no one would ever know-

In the blink of an eye, the horrifying creature was pushed off of her due to the force of something else. Something that was huge. She didn't see it at that second because all she saw was a flash of white fur but she saw it a moment later.

It was Fenrys. Or him as a wolf. His body may be different but she would recognize those dark eyes anywhere. Fenrys glanced at her only once before lunging for the beast. He teared and ripped through the creatures skin, even biting of one of its hands in the process.

Y/n's shoulder was fully bloodied now, causing her movements to slow down immensely. If she couldn't reach it in time, she would atleast throw the knife hidden in her boot at the creature. She was haphazardly trying to get her weapon out when she heard a loud roar of agony come from her side. She immediately turned her head at it and saw Fenrys was now on the ground, blood coming out of the side of his stomach as the ugly thing circled him.

Fenrys had endured horrors worse than this. He lived through and survived even harsher and more complicated conditions. He survived Maeve. He survived the first round of dreadful Valg-created monsters and he would survive this. He won't die because some new slithery Valg-creation managed to kill him. Never.

Fenrys kept telling this to himself as he managed to slowly get up, his energy slowly depleting due to the large cut on his ribs. He got into a defensive stance, baring his fangs as the dreadful thing stopped a few steps away from him, also baring its fangs. Instantaneously, they lunged for one another and Fenrys was about to aim for its neck when the monster fell back with a loud screech that sounded a lot like a cry.

Fenrys landed on the ground and barely managed to stand on his four feet as he saw y/n, with both of her hands right inside the beasts back. Her shoulder was bleeding nonstop, while her face was covered in dirt and blood. Yet none of those layers could hide that fierce, ruthless warriors expression as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath in, exhaled and then with a quick change of position, she had the creature on the ground as her hands finally ripped away from its chest and in them was......oh Gods.....she was there, all bloodied in both blue and black, her hair a complete and utter mess, her clothes ripped and dirty, her sharp iron nails and teeth shining under the moonlight and her hands, holding an old, rotting, black heart.

Fenrys' vision was getting blurry as he cast a quick glance at the now lifeless beast, with its mouth open and leaking black liquid. He heard the sound of squelching and slowly looked back to see y/n squeezing and destroying the heart before falling on her knees and squeezing her own shoulde-

He was swaying now, his eyes were about to close. Fenrys felt himself shifting before falling to the ground with a loud thump. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear her cry, he could feel a pair of hands on him as he managed to keep his eyes open for a little longer. Nox Owens. He isn't dead? He was saying something but everything was becoming a loud buzz in Fenrys' ears as dark spots began covering his vision.

The last thing he thought of before passing out was y/n. At that moment, she may have been covered in absolute filth but she was still the most enchanting, beautiful being across the universe. Something within him came to life, something he coudn't decipher. But......

Fenrys felt himself slip away completely as darkness enveloped him whole.

When he awoke again, everything was still blurry. But he could hear some chatter near him as his eyes slowly began clearing and Fenrys could see that he was on his bed, in his room. It wasn't night anymore, if the small hints of sunlight invading his room from under the curtains were any indicator.

With a low groan, he turned his head sideways and-

"Dorian?"

The room went silent as the king looked at him with wide eyes before quickly stepping towards his bed as Aelin exhaled a loud "Finally!" and Rowan said to Eva, "Go get Isolde."

Dorian came and pushed Lysandra off her chair near Fenrys, sitting on it, which earned him a glare from the shifter.

"Fenrys! You are alive! I knew my amazingly magical presence alone would bring you out of your unconsciousness!"

Lysandra smacked him on the head as her gaze turned softer the second she looked at Fenrys.

"We are all glad you are finally conscious."

Rowan sat on his bed with a small smile "It has been a day. That stuck up king came early this morning."

Dorian scoffed loudly as Lysandra and Aelin laughed "Look in the mirror, birdie, I am not the only 'stuck up' one."

Fenrys saw how these two were about to start a whole bickering session so he interfered quickly with a question that was on his mind from the second he awoke "Where is y/n? Is she well?"

And by the looks on the faces of his family members, the answer wasn't going to be a good one.

Y/n lost blood. Too much, in fact. First, she got attacked by that servant girl who wounded her shoulders and neck. Then, right after that, her healing wounds were reopened when that monster attacked her.

When Fenrys fell unconscious, y/n was busy ripping out her shirt in order to create a temporary bandage for her wound. Thank the Mother for Nox because she wasn't sure that she would be able to carry Fenrys all the way back to the palace with a bloodied shoulder and a completely drained body.

Nox himself had scratches all over him with a few small tree branches sticking out of his hair as he managed to lift Fenrys up, taking him from one side while y/n slowly got up and took his other side, getting under his arm. Their walk was made shorter thanks to Nox who knew secret shortcuts to reach the palace.

When they reached the residence, she was on the verge of collapsing but managed to force her eyes open as healers were called, as everyone got up, as Fenrys was taken into his bedroom. She barely remembers Manon's wide, worried eyes as she tried pulling y/n into her bedroom with Yrene so that she could also get healed. Y/n also remembers snarling at the witch, threatening the queen herself that she wouldn't leave until Fenrys was well.

She remembers not moving an inch from his bedside, displaying her sharp iron teeth at anyone who dared to even suggest her to go and get cleaned, get healed. But y/n could only hold out for so long before succumbing to her body's pleas. Before she too, fell unconscious on the floor, right next to the bed containing the male who fought for her.

She has been in and out of consciousness in the hours since then. Y/n slightly remembers her room being full with Aelin and her court, she slightly remembers Manon being by her side everytime she would wake and now, as her eyes slowly opened for the hundredth time, she thought the creature must have bitten her mind off, causing her to surely imagine the picture in front of her.

Lorcan was here. In her room. Standing face to face with Manon who was glaring at him while saying something. Yrene was also here with Chaol by her side, holding her hand as he tried to step between the witch and the man. Aedion was shaking his head while pointing his finger at y/n.

When Yrene saw that she was awake again, she quickly gasped "Y/n,"

That made the four others shut up and immediately look at her. Manon quickly ran up to y/n's side and gently brushed her sweaty hair back as she turned her head and told to Aedion, "Go get some water, the pitcher is empty."

Well, she was clearly going mad because what? Manon actually being caring? Lorcan being in her room again?

Yrene and Chaol also came to her side as the former had a soft smile on her face, "Y/n? Do you hear me?"

She slowly nodded her head, not taking her wide eyes away from the giant man standing near the door. What was he doing here again? If he came to fight her, now is not the right time. She might just take out her iron claws and rip him apart. An apology to Elide could come later.

When the others saw her glaring at Lorcan, Manon cleared her throat as she said in a frustrated tone, "He came and insisted on seeing how you were doing. Apparently he is worried but I could gladly tell him to fuck off if you wish."

And she probably would have. No, she actually should have let Manon tear him apart, but....the genuine look of concern and shame sparkling in his eyes made her sigh and say the next words, "It is alright, let him stay."

Manon looked back at her with wide eyes, "Are you sure? I know what he did to you, you don't need to-"

Y/n weakly put her hand on the queen's arm "Manon, please. I think me and him need to have this talk. Alone."

She saw how the witch was about to open her mouth to protest when Yrene just cleared her throat, nodding to the doorway while Chaol gave y/n a small smile.

As the three walked past Lorcan towards the door, he said, "We are outside if you need us."

She nodded her head at Chaol as they left the room, closing the door behind them.

Awkward silence stretched between them as Lorcan cleared his throat and came closer to her bed while softly saying, "I....I know that ever since the time you came here, I haven't been the nicest to you. In fact, I was horrible to you. I just....with the life that I have lived through, it was not easy for me to even trust someone, let alone a stranger from another place. I saw you as an enemy, a secret Valg, the root of all the problems and I was beyond mad when I saw how everyone was starting to slowly warm up to you. Thought of them as blind fools for not seeing you for what you are,"

A deep inhale and exhale.

Then, his mouth moved again, "I thought I did the right thing when I pinned you to the wall and said all that. But then, after Fenrys beat me up in his study, when I was getting healed, and scolded by everyone, I realized what a fool I have been. This is not easy for me to say but-"

"Lorcan-"

He fell on his knees, looking up at her "Y/n, please. I put you through hell so the least I can do is apologize. I am sorry, y/n. So ashamed and so guilty for what I did. I know that you won't forget it but I atleast hope you could forgive me for it."

He was actually sorry. In fact, he looked like he had the word 'miserable' written on his forehead. And while it is true that she would never forget all that he did to her, just like she never forgot anything else, y/n could still find it within herself to forgive him.

She sighed but gave him a small smile "I see why you may have seen me as a threat, Lorcan. In fact, I would have done the same if the roles were reversed and you suddenly ended up in Velaris. But, I am glad you owned up to your actions and apologized. You are right, I won't ever forget it but I can forgive it. I just hope that this means a friendly truce between us. Now please do get up, you are making me feel uncomfortable."

Lorcan smiled. He actually smiled while getting up again.

"Yes, Yes of course. We have peace, you and I. Thank you."

She smiled just as the door opened and both of them looked to see.....Fenrys being held up by Rowan enter the room. He was half naked, his torso completely wrapped up in bandages and bindings, his messy hair stopping right over his chest, his loose pants hanging over his hips. Lorcan immediately went up to help him but stopped when Fenrys cast him a glare before looking between him and y/n.

Y/n said, "Fenrys, we are fine. Lorcan and I made peace. You may relax now."

His body loosened a little but he still kept his glare on Lorcan as Rowan carefully brought him to sit next to her on the bed before dragging the giant man out of the room with him.

When the door was closed and they were alone, he let out a breath and closed his eyes.

He looked so tired, and his body seemed to have even more scratches than the last time she saw it. Y/n sighed but moved to the side, creating some space for the large male to lie in.

He opened his eyes at the sound and cast her a questioning gaze.

Y/n just smiled as she said, "You are tired. Come, let's lie on the bed. If you are comfortable with it of course."

What did she just do? Embarrass herself that's what. Did she truly think that what happened that day in the woods would happen once again here? Out in the open, in her room? In the middle of the day? While his family was just outside this door? He will laugh at her. He won't lie down because he would be embarassed-

Fenrys shifted his body very slowly, hissing at some point, probably due to the pain, before putting his head down on the pillow next to her and taking some of the bedsheet to cover his own body too.

"Your bed is much more comfortable than mine."

She just stared at him, not moving, not blinking and when he saw this, concern stretched all over his face as Fenrys asked "Y/n? Are you well? Should I call Isolde? What-"

"Azriel was embarassed."

His concern turned into confusion as she simply whispered, "After...um- after the war against Hybern, I was seriously injured on the battlefield. I managed to hide my whole blue blood secret by covering my wound with black bandages and when the healers were helping me, I made them swear never to say anything about that. So when I was lying in my cot, Az came to visit me, he was also wounded and tired just like you. When I told him to lie down next to me, he said that there are soldiers that are currently dying or suffering in other ways while I am asking him to cuddle. That it would be embarassing for him to do such a thing."

He slowly lifted his hand and let his fingers gently caress her cheek as he whispered back, "I would never be embarassed of you, princess. That Azriel is a damn fool for ever saying that. It was never your fault that he is a coward."

She felt such comfort. Never in her life has she ever felt this level of safety and bliss. She felt to peaceful that her eyes began to slowly close again. That is when she felt Fenrys gently pull her to him as he whispered, "You are truly one of a kind."

And as they both lay there, in each others arms, healing, their last thoughts were of each other as sleep sang its sweet melody into their ears, lulling them into dreamland.

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

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brownskinlemon · 6 months ago

Text

Midori Sour pt.2 (d.f.)

pairing: dominic fike x (photographer fem! reader)

word count: 3,347

summary: you attend your friend Omar's pool party. what happens when liquid courage and a certain curly-haired boy combine to change your perspective on LA?

warnings: (18+) explicit language, smut, smoking of maryjane, unprotected s3x (kinda?),

author's note: Let me know down below if you guys would like a part 3 with the morning after. It would be such an adorable way to end this little mini series <3

It seemed he was thinking of you too, because soon after blue light flooded a small part of the room from a text, an unsaved number.

It read: “Can’t sleep. Come watch tv with me?”

You all but ran to the door, hopping up and making your way across the hall with no second thoughts. You lightly knocked, peering down the empty hallway, blanketed in silence as you waited for him to answer.

Your heart caught in your throat as the door swung open, and there he was. Clad in nothing but pajama pants, towering over your heated frame, he looked like everything you needed in this moment.

“One second..” He turns to walk back to the bed briefly, grabbing a freshly rolled joint and returning to meet you back at the door frame. “You down to come smoke this with me first?” He tilted his head slightly as he waited for your answer. You nodded, a small smile making its way onto your face.

You stepped aside, letting him lead you down the dimly lit hallway. The scent of his cologne followed behind him as you both made your way to the backyard. It looked so different out here when it was empty. Neon lights gently blanketed the large pool, pool floats drifting aimlessly, and the moon reflecting delicately in the calmness of the pool. You and Dominic walked to the edge of the water, sitting criss-crossed aside on the warm ground. The silence was a sharp contrast to the overstimulation of earlier, save from the quiet flickering of Dom’s lighter as he lit the joint. You watched closely as his pink lips parted, ghosting the smoke effortlessly.

“So..”He took an additional hit before handing it to you gently.”How long have you been like..in LA full time?” His eyes traced your features as you took a hit, waiting eagerly for your answer.

“Almost..6 months just about.” You blew out a bustling cloud of smoke, handing the joint back.

“You feel like you’re adjusting well?”

“Can you ever really feel adjusted to LA?” You sighed. He chuckles dryly, smoke coming with it.

“I’m with you on that. I've been here for a few years now, and shit, it still feels like sometimes I can’t ever keep up.” He shook his head, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he titled his head back to gaze up at the blanket of scarce stars blanketing the dark sky above you. The joint was at its near end, and after taking a final hit, he looked back towards you.

“Finish it off for me hm?” He held the small remnants of the joint in the air near you, watching you closely as you leaned forward to take a generous hit, not breaking eye contact. You pulled back, coughing at the smoke filling your lungs, and you both broke out into giggles at the choked sentence you attempted to get out mid cough.

“Holy shit.” You finally began to catch your bearings.

“You good?” He leans forward, one hand reaching to grab the underside of your jaw gently.

“Yeah..” Your breath stalls at the sudden contact. “Do you…should we go inside and get snacks or something?” You mentally facepalm yourself.

Snacks? Seriously Y/N?

“Oh uh..sure.” He hops up, offering his hand down to you, and hosting you to meet him on your feet.

You are once again trailing behind Dominic as you both make your way back inside. The kitchen is just as stunning as you remember , draped in marble countertops with a large island in the center. The pool lights crashed through the glass wall overlooking the backyard, serving as the backdrop to you and the tall boy’s silhouettes.

As he opened the fridge, you went to the candy drawer, remembering it from last time you came over.

“Y/N I’m not gonna kill you for grabbing a snack you know? Look through the drawers hunny, I can’t even finish half the shit I buy anyway.” Omar stated.

“Yeah-sorry.” You stumbled out.

“You know, one day soon, you’re gonna come out of that shell of yours.”

“Maybe for the right amount of liquor and a miracle." You sigh.

You chuckled at the memory, settling on a pack of sour patches to sooth your munchies. You padded over lightly to the island, leaning back up against it. Dominic made his way across from you, leaning against the counter opposite you. You were too focused on opening the package to notice his gaze trained on your face.

After finally getting it open, you finally looked up at him. “Want some?” You raised an eyebrow.

“For sure.” He leans forward, opening his palm as you shake a few into his hand.

A comfortable silence fell over you both, as you briefly turned your head to look out the window. Being alone with Dominic was strangely comfortable, almost like you two already knew each other. You returned your gaze to him, surprised to find him still taking glances at you, seemingly deep in thought.

“What?” You broke the silence.

“What do you mean what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again?” He asks, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“Your eyes, that thing you do. I feel like you’re looking too deep into me. Like you’re gonna see something you don’t like if you stop prying.” You state dryly, peering down at your feet that have become the most interesting things in the world.

“I haven’t been able to stop looking at you all night, don’t you realize that? If there was something about you I disliked, which there isn’t, I’d know by now.” You couldn’t help the heat spreading through your cheeks, and more importantly the schoolgirl-like smile fighting its way to your face, tilting your head down to your feet in an attempt to hide it.

Your breath stalls in your throat as you see him stand up from his leaned position on the counter, walking closer and closer to you until there was nothing but a few inches between you too. You could feel the heat blazing from his skin, and you had no choice but to face him as he caged you in against the counter with his arms on either side of you. He was towering over you, bringing his face so close to you that the faint smell of mint and weed was faint.

His doe eyes were blown, and you couldn’t help yourself from utterly and completely drowning in them. A small smirk made its way to his face as he took notice of your shaky breathing, your own eyes mirroring his.

“Dom..” You muttered weakly.

“What is it?’ He asks, feigning ignorance. “You have me out here about to kiss a girl I just met today, you realize that?” He sighs.

Please do something, anything.

You nodded, begging him silently to do it. Just as you stood on your tippy toes to hover your lips closer, he lunged forward gently to connect your lips. You had been aching for this feeling all day, and the pleasure surging through your veins was even more euphoric than you could’ve imagined. It started out gently, testing the waters as you both sank deeper. You and his hands began to make their ways to explore each other, making your kiss deeper and more intense.

You gasped as he lifted you onto the counter, and he replaced his mouth in no time. Your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer as you began to slyly grind up into him. It took everything in him to pull back from you, and you almost chased his lips as he began to speak.

“How far do you wanna go?” He pulled back from you, raising his eyebrows, rubbing circles into your hips.

“I want you to take me all the way Dominic.” You breathe out.

Holy shit this cannot be happening.

Without missing a beat, he lifts your heated frame into his arms, resuming your kiss as he walks you back to his room, closing the door behind him. He places you down gently on the bed, crawling over you between your thighs, using his arms to hold him up above you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He says breathlessly, pupils blown out from the adrenaline pulsing through him.

“Hm you think so?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah I do.” He smiled at your coyness, diving back in to connect your lips. His warm hands made their way under his hoodie on your body, making you gasp as they came in contact with your stomach. You began to rid yourself of it, and he leaned back to help you finish, tossing somewhere in the room haphazardly.

He kissed down your jaw, kissing and sucking lightly across your neck, tilting your chin back gently for access. A whimper broke from your lips, cutting through the silence in the room. He continued his torture down the expanse of your chest, leaning back to play with the edge of your tube top.

He tilted his head to the side at you adorably, “Is it okay if I take this off?”

“Mhm.” You nodded.

You pulled it over your head, the both of you now only clad in bottoms. You instinctively rush to cover your chest, and his intense gaze softens for a moment. He gently grabs both of your hands in his hand, removing them from your chest to push your hands above your head. He dips his head down, peppering kisses all over your chest.

“So so pretty.” He says between kisses. His mouth trails over to your nipples, eyes locking with yours as he wraps a mouth around your nipple. A whine rips through your throat, echoing a little too loud. He pulls back, whispering near your ear while nipping at it.

“I need you to be quiet for me babydoll. You think you can do that for me?” His voice sends a lightning strike of pleasure down through you and to your core. His eye contact found its way back to you, the depth of his stare drowning you. With the way he looked at you, he could convince you to do anything.

You nodded, eyes glazing over.

“Good girl.” He nods back at you, humming in approval. “Lift up your hips for me.” He slid your underwear and pajamas off of you gently.

A chill ran through you as you realized you were completely and utterly bare to him, and he had the same realization. His eyes raked over your frame, mouth slightly agape as he took you in fully.

“Jesus christ you are perfect.” He rasped out, heat flushing your features at the compliment.

“Dom..” You cover your eyes with your hand, turning away from him as a smile breaks out on your face.

He silently slid down the bed, finding a place between your thighs as he hiked your leg up onto his shoulder. Your breath began to become unstable, your brain unable to catch up to your body. You felt his soft lips gently kiss the inside of your thighs, and he leaned his face onto your thigh.

“Hey…look at me baby. Please?” You couldn’t resist the sickeningly sweet rasp of his voice, and peeled your arm away from your face to look down at him. His puppy eyes were impossible, brown and deep, silently begging you to fully give yourself to him.

You watched as he hovered over where you needed him most, finally connecting his mouth to your core. You threw your head back at the contact, the weed and buildup from today combining to make you more sensitive than you’ve ever been in your life. Your breath stalls, and you grip onto him for dear life, suppressing the moan that threatens to spill as he works you over with his tongue.

He begins to slide a finger into your entrance slowly, gripping onto your hip to keep you still as your hips jolt at each brush of your g-spot. Your hips grind up into him, small whimpers and heavy breaths racking your chest. He hums in appreciation, selfishly relishing in how hard you were fighting to stay quiet. The plateau you had been on was now turning into an incline, and you felt yourself becoming closer and closer to tumbling over the edge. Your legs shook uncontrollably, stiffening as your hands searched wildly for something, anything to bite down on.

You settled on a throw pillow, bringing it to your mouth as you sunk your teeth into it. Your eyes rolled as a sob racked your chest into the pillow as your orgasm suddenly washed over you. Dominic watched uninterrupted as your back arched, and you gave into him shamelessly, convulsing underneath him with your hand laced in his near your hip.

He let you ride it out before pulling back as you whined at the sensitivity, wiping his mouth of you and bringing himself back above you.

“Hey..” He cupped your face gently, trying to coax your eyes back to him. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, still finding your breath. “Holy shit.”

He chuckles at your dramatics, leaning down to kiss your forehead. When you finally open your eyes, the fire behind them is burning bright, pupils blown from your recent rush.

You peer down between you both, noticing the tent in his pants that’s poking lightly against your thigh. He follows the path down to where you’re looking, taking in the way your mouth was slightly agape.

“Hey.” He calls your attention back to him, rubbing his thumb gently at your cheekbone. “Are you okay if I-”

“Yeah!” You clear your throat. “Sorry. Yeah. That’s fine.”

He flashes you a look of gentleness, moving back from you to rid himself of his pajama pants. He groans at the relief, his manhood stiff and taunts against his stomach, precum glinting in the lights of the room. You can’t help when your eyes widen at the sight. He climbs back over you, pulling the comforter over you both up to his hips.

“Dom..I don’t…I don’t think that’s gonna fit.” You weren’t a virgin, but the sheer size of him compared to what you were prepared for was making your mind race. His eyebrows raise, as he smiles down at you.

“I’m flattered that you think I’m well endowed. But I promise you, it will. Trust me.” Sincerity danced around the rings of his irises, leaving you no choice but to believe him. You nod slowly, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Are you on birth control baby?” He continues. You nod again. He kisses your nose. “Good.”

He finally settles between your legs, beginning to rub his tip between your dripping folds, making both you and him gasp. “Holy shit baby you are soaked.” He groans, squeezing his eyes together to find his bearings. He pauses for a moment, massaging your hip bone as he begins to speak again.

“You are beautiful, you know that?” He looks down your frame, taking in you again once again, relishing in the compromising position you both found yourself in. “I need you to let me know if it's ever too uncomfortable, I will stop anytime. I mean it. Can you do that for me?”

“Mhm.” You nod, unconsciously grinding your hips up into his in impatience.

“Ok. Ok. I get it.” His breath stalls at the contact, turning his attention back to between your legs. He finally begins to push the head in, both of you gasping again. “Hey. Breathe.” He nodded down at you, taking in your still chest. You attempted to oblige, short, harsh breaths leaving your nose in an attempt to relax yourself. Your eyes rolled as he worked into you inch by inch, the slick walls of you welcoming him in effortlessly. Your hips jump as he finally presses fully into you, brushing your g-spot and making him near whine as you fully sheathed him.

“There we go. Atta girl.” He praised raspily, delighting in how your legs began to wrap around him and your eyes found him in a sultry and desperate spell. When you fully adjusted as he moved slowly, a tame moan broke through the barrier of your lungs, and he ducked near your ear once again. “Shh baby, you gotta be quiet for me remember?”

“Dom I’m trying- it’s so hard.” You whimper pathetically, sounding almost on the verge of tears as you wrapped your arms around his toned back.

“I know baby I know.” He tuts in mock sympathy, picking up his pace slightly and pressing deeper into you with every thrust. “You can do it though, I know you can.” You threw your head back, clenching down onto him, your hips jolting as he prodded at the one spot you needed him over and over.

Your hands dug into him harshly, sure to leave some marks in the morning. Your best efforts to conceal your noise were no match for the torturous pleasure washing over you, coursing through your veins. The boy between your legs seemed almost hellbent on making you wanna scream. A guttural moan flies from your lips, and his hand flies up to catch in its path, cupping your mouth.

His eyes lock onto yours, watching as they roll, just as his hips rolled fervently between your own. Your legs began to shake around him, cueing him into your impending release. Another breathless moan is muffled against his palm as he reaches his free hand between you both, using the wetness there to circle your sensitive bud.

“You gonna be a good girl and give me another?” He watches as your wet eyes fight to look back at him, groaning as you begin to clench down on him relentlessly. Before you both knew it you were flying over the edge for the second time, holding onto the man for dear life as silent sobs wracked through your whole body. “There you go. Give it to me.” He rasps, biting down on your shoulder lightly when his own release begins to creep up.

As your orgasm begins to wane in intensity, his own finally approaches, both of you a desperate mess as you hold onto each other like your lives depend on it. You feel him fill you up with one final pump. You would have to grapple in the morning with the fact that you had sex with a man on the first day of knowing him, and welcomed his eager release into you so willingly. However, said man was Dominic Fike, so any residual regret would be very limited, if at all.

He gently pulls out, the emptiness a sharp contrast to the depths of you he has just reached. His mop of curls was flush against your chest as he laid his head down on you. You both laid wrapped in the comforter and the warmth of one another, letting your breaths catch up with you. Your nails scratched his scalp lightly, curls slightly damp, and a hand ran down his overly warm back. Your eyes were barely open, but you peered down at him , noticing his fluttering closed.

“Y/N” He grumbles lightly, almost startling you.

“Hm?”

“Can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?”

A tired smile breaks out on your face. “Do you want to?”

“I do.” He shuffles closer to you, burying his face in your neck. “Don't want you to think this is all I wanted you know? You are amazing, from what I can tell. Wanna keep talking to you.” You feel him smile into your neck, pecking a light kiss after.

“I’d like that.”

“Also want you to keep making me midori sours if that's okay.” He says, wrapping himself impossibly closer as if being in your skin wouldn’t even suffice.

“Mm. I can do that.” You sigh comfortably.

You both fell asleep, limps wrapped up haphazardly around one another. The serenity of the night blanketed you both, both of you blissfully unaware of the chaos that Dominic’s story had caused.

While you drifted deeper, a blue notification lit up the entire room:

“Instagram: 1000+ notifications”

TO BE CONTINUED: I have made the executive decision to make a finale: part 3! It will be very fluffy and a bit comical, I look forward to wrapping this up in a really sweet way. Thank you all, enjoy!

#dominic fike #dom fike #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike smut #part 2 #midori sour #omar apollo

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hotgirlbedtimescenarios · 15 days ago

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hellloooo kt 💖

for a blurb: joel and reader on a camping trip. maybe they go swimming in a lake and watch the stars at night time :)

fluffy or smutty idc i just love how u write joel! 🤍🤍🤍

Hello sweet Lali! ❤️ Your compliment goes straight to my heart; thank you so much. 🥹 I’m equally, if not even more, obsessed with how YOU write, Joel. Anyways...

So, I kind of got carried away with this one, and it turned into much more than a blurb. Once the fluff began, I couldn't stop it. Whoops. I hope you like it :)

Forever Like This

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Words: >1k

Vibes: fluffy & flirty

———

“Are you sure about this, Joel? Where are we going?” you call out, your voice a little breathless as you trail behind him along the thick forest path.

The sun is low in the sky, casting long shadows between the trees. You've been walking for what feels like ages, your legs sore from the hike, and the soft rustling of leaves around you makes it feel as though you're stepping deeper into the heart of the woods. You can’t help but wonder if you’re lost.

Joel glances back over his shoulder, his brown eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of mischief. He shifts the overnight bags in his hand, effortlessly transferring their weight to one arm before reaching out to take your hand. His touch is warm and grounding. “We’re almost there,” he says with a grin that only makes your curiosity grow.

Minutes later, the forest parts, and suddenly, you step into an open meadow. The sight takes your breath away. Sunlight filters through amber and gold leaves overhead, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. A soft breeze stirs the tall grass, making it sway. The leaves above rustle gently, sending a flurry of them dancing in the air, floating slowly to the earth below.

In this picturesque clearing sits a small log cabin, its wood weathered with age. It's tucked away into the corner of the clearing. A sparkling lake stretches out to one side, the water mirroring the clear blue sky. A little john boat lies tipped on its side at the water’s edge, its wood faded from years of use.

Your heart skips in your chest, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the scene. “What is this place?” you ask, your voice soft with awe, turning to look at Joel.

Joel’s gaze is already on you, watching the wonder in your expression. He smiles, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “This cabin’s been in my family for years,” he explains, leading you toward the clearing. “Tommy and I used to come here to hunt or fish when we had the time. Haven’t been in a while, though.”

You look up at him, your eyes catching on his rugged features, the rough stubble along his jaw, the intensity in his dark eyes, and the way his dark hair flips slightly at the nape of his neck. You feel an undeniable sense of peace just being here, beside him.

“C’mon,” he says, guiding you toward the cabin. “Let’s get settled.”

The cabin’s door creaks as Joel unlocks it, revealing a small, cozy interior. The air smells of pine and wood, with the faintest trace of something earthy. As you explore the cabin, you notice little wooden carvings scattered throughout the room, birds, bears, and tiny trees, all crafted by hand. You imagine Joel sitting here by the firelight, carving late into the night.

Joel opens the windows, letting in the cool autumn air, and begins to unpack the bags. “Spent a lot of nights here when I was a kid,” he says, his voice softer now. “Tommy and I used to fight over who got to steer the boat. I learned how to hunt here, shot my first deer in these woods.” There’s a faraway look in his eyes as he speaks, lost in the memories.

You listen intently, feeling the weight of his words, then glance around at the tiny cabin. The wooden walls, the faded rugs, the firewood stacked neatly by the door, it all feels so personal.

Joel offers you a smile and gestures toward the lake. “Come on.”

You follow him, shoes and socks quickly discarded as you step into the soft, cool grass. The lake stretches out before you, its surface smooth and inviting. You dip your toes in, and a burst of laughter slips from your lips when tiny fish begin to dart around your feet. They nibble lightly at your skin, and you shriek, pulling your feet out of the water in surprise. Water splashes onto Joel, who’s sitting right beside you.

You glance at him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but when you see the damp patches on his T-shirt and the playful glint in his eyes, the teasing smile on his lips, you know exactly what’s coming.

A huff of laughter rumbles from his chest and he smirks, “I was just thinkin it might be nice to take a dip.” Before you can scramble away he’s pulling you into his arms with a swift move, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

You squeal in surprise, trying to wriggle free, but Joel just chuckles as he carries you toward the water. “Joel! No, don’t!” you laugh, your voice half-pleading, half-giggling, “Our clothes!”

Your struggle is futile. Before long, he’s wading into the lake, the cool water quickly rising to his knees. He releases you when the water’s chest-high, and you find yourself drenched, laughing helplessly as Joel grins at you, clearly pleased with himself.

“Refreshing, huh?” he smirks, his voice deep and amused.

“Yeah,” you say, sticking out your tongue at him, “I guess it’s not too bad.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes wading and splashing, playfully dunking each other in the water, until you both end up stripped down to your underwear, your soggy clothes thrown onto the shore. You float together, bodies pressed against each other in the water, content in the intimacy of the moment.

Joel wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He presses a soft kiss to the tip of your wet nose, his breath warm against your skin. “Did I do good? Like the surprise?” he murmurs, his voice tender, hopeful.

“Perfect,” you whisper, and then kiss him. It starts off innocent and slow but builds, passion quickly catching flame. Beneath the water you wrap your legs around his torso, anchoring yourself to him and his hands cup the cheeks of your ass, kneading the flesh. His tongue sweeps against your bottom lip, begging for entrance and you allow it as your fingers tangle in his hair.

A groan rumbles in Joel's chest; it vibrates against you where yours is pressed up against him. His fingers skirt at the edge of your panties, asking for permission. To his surprise, you pull away from the kiss, and he watches you with a puzzled look, confusion in his lust-filled eyes.

“Not here,” you breathe, nodding toward the water. “Too many fish... and who knows what else is swimming around in here.”

Joel’s eyes narrow in playful frustration, but his lips curl into a grin.

“That cabin got a shower big enough for two?” you ask, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

He groans low in his chest, his eyes dark with desire. “We’ll make it fit,” he grumbles, giving you a squeeze that makes you laugh.

“Well, what are we still doing out here?” you tease.

“Fuck if I know”, and before the last syllable has left his mouth the both of you scramble out of the water, dripping wet and laughing as you race toward the cabin.

———

Later, after the sun has set and the stars begin to twinkle against the clear night sky next to a thin sliver of the moon, you and joel lie on a blanket in the meadow, the cool grass beneath you.

The sounds of the forest are a backdrop to the two of you, an owl hooting and insects humming in the distance. A cool wind skirts across the meadow, and you lean into Joel, the warmth of his body blooming beside you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave,” you sigh dreamily, perfectly content at where you find yourself, resting your head on his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Joel wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, planting a kiss on the crown of your head. He grins to himself secretly, thinking about the diamond ring in a tiny blue box hidden in his suitcase just a few yards away in the cabin.

“You're right,” he murmurs, his voice equally content, “I could do this forever.”

#joel miller x reader #fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro characters #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #game joel #one shot #joel miller drabble #asks #request

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b00kdiary · 10 months ago

Text

A Ballad of Flame & Shadow | Azriel

Alex was falling between worlds- falling through worlds- until she landed with Bryce someplace that was definitely not Hel.

And now there was a male before her, the most beautiful male she had ever seen and something other than fear sparked in her heart.

Wattpad & Ao3

CHAPTER ONE:

One moment Bryce and I were running toward the Gate, leaping through the Gate into the chasm of darkness beyond, Rigelus screaming at our backs.

And then the next we were falling.

Not through the worlds but across – as if some God had gripped us by our hair and yanked us sideways, pulling, pulling, pulling, our screams greeting nothing but stars and darkness and emptiness.

There was a pressure in my brain like someone had wrapped their hands around my throat and squeezed, a tightening that felt like fingers pressing down on my eyes to cave them in.

And so much screaming.

And then... grass.

I panted, a burst of pain lancing through my right shoulder as it collided with the ground, as it collided with the green grass below me. Though my head spun so wildly that for a second, I wondered if it was even real.

But I felt it, under my hands, beyond the Harpy's blood coating my palms and fingers, crusting under my nails- grass, dense and damp with condensation.

Hel had grass.

"Hel," I breathed, and it was pure panic that overrode the spinning in my mind, the pain in my body. Pure and undiluted panic as I realised where we had appeared, what likely prowled these lands. "Bryce-Bryce!"

My knees shook as I rose onto them, and I could feel my body begging me to stop- stop moving, stop fighting, just stop. But I didn't, couldn't, not as flashes of Hel's pets passed my mind's eye, those horrific creatures that had attacked Lunathion that day.

Deathstalkers, Kristallos demons- they would rip us to shreds before we even found Aidas.

"Bryce!" I called again- not too loud. I lifted my chin and I saw the Starsword, a few feet in front of me and then I glanced back- to where Bryce lay groaning on the floor. "Shit, shit-"

The air felt different here, thinner, and as I scrambled over to Bryce, half-crawling, half-stumbling, it took all my strength to make it those few feet before I dropped to my knees at her side.

"Alex," Bryce gritted her teeth as I rolled her onto her back, her tan skin ashen her body convulsing. Running from Rigelus's power, opening the Gate with the Horn, getting us both through to Hel- it was all too much for her.

"We need to go," Her amber eyes darted frantically, to and from my face to the darkening sky above. But even her hand clasping mine felt weak, and I knew that she was on the verge of passing out. "Death-deathstalkers, they'll kill us, Alex, we need to go."

"I know, I know," I rasped and something helpless burned behind my eyes as I held her hand, and watched her sneakers dig into the ground for leverage before giving out a second later. "We're not going to make it far with you like this Bryce, we need shelter, we need-"

The mists before us parted and the words died on my tongue as I beheld the land before me- beheld a sight of beauty. A flowing, crystal blue river, a lawn of verdant green grass, kept green grass, and beyond.

"A city," I gasped, and Bryce must not have heard me, not as she tried and failed to bend her knees under her. But I saw it, saw a city of stars and moonlight and prosperity, the kind that Ruhn had shown me pictures of when he had travelled across the Continents.

But there, through the mystified fog and past that winding river- movement. Demons of Hel.

"Bryce, I know you're tired, but you need to get up," I grab her limpening arm, tucking it against me and something twists in my gut at the wet feel of the Harpy's blood on her clothes and mine, the smell that thickened as I grabbed Bryce by the waist to haul her to her feet.

Her amber eyes opened; her head tilted back against my forearm blinking up at my face. And then her eyes widened.

"Alex-"

Too late.

Steel slid against my throat, cold and sharp and I froze.

A male spoke, like death incarnate against the shell of my ear, so close that I felt a tremor ripple across my skin. I didn't recognise the language, but with the hushed tone and the press of that blade against my carotid, I knew not to move.

I didn't even dare breathe.

Bryce grunted as she slipped from my grip and back to the grass, and as her eyes flashed to whatever demon stood behind me, I saw it in her face- her calling to her powers, just as I did now. But it splintered and cracked, shards slipping through my fingers.

I had nothing left to defend with, and if the dull star at Bryce's chest told me anything, it seemed we were out of luck.

That male voice spoke again, demanded something in that foreign tongue and when I still knelt on the ground, palms exposed, begging any who listened for even a flicker of magic to ignite in me, he growled.

Bryce gasped as his large hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I saw her fighting to rise as he hauled me up and twisted me to face him. "Don't fucking touch her."

But I didn't react. Not as I was met with something, unlike any demon I knew existed.

A male- the most beautiful male I had ever seen before. Golden skin, carved bone structure, raven hair. And those eyes were hazel, a sunburst of honey and whiskey, even if they seemed to gleam with violence.

The sight of him surprised me enough that I stumbled back a step and like the warrior he seemed to be, he reacted, his hand falling to my curved waist and gripping me. Something sparked, like a match being lit, at the touch.

And for a second, I think he felt it too, it seemed like those hazel eyes cleared and his tall, muscular form shivered at that spark. Just for a second and then it was gone.

He released my waist, instead wrapping his hand around my wrist, a glint of a blade shining in my peripheral. He spoke again, a quiet voice that seemed to hold no mercy. But I was dumbfounded as I stared at him.

The scale-like obsidian armour, crafted over acres of lean, corded muscle, and so tall I craned my neck to meet his eyes. And those wings, nothing like Hunt's, no, these were vast, black, leathery, tipped with talons that peered over his broad shoulders.

Hunt.

Ruhn.

Something squeezed in my chest and that beautiful face twisted, brows knitting and soft lips tilting down as tears filled my eyes.

"Take us to Aidas," I begged, and I couldn't stop how my body was shaking now. I glanced back at Bryce, braced on her palms and mascara running down her face- as if she too remembered all we had left behind. "Take us to Aidas, Prince Aidas!"

I couldn't stop the tears as they fell and when I jolted forward, curling my hands into the solid, intricate armour he wore, his eyes flashed in warning. But he didn't pull away. I leaned against him, knees near giving out and he seemed to recognise how desperate I was.

He spoke again, softer this time, that rough hand still holding my wrist.

"What the fuck is he saying?" Bryce choked, and I could hear rustling as if she was fighting with everything, she had in her to get up. I could practically hear her screaming in her mind get the fuck up.

"I don't understand, please, just take us to Prince Aidas. We came to Hel; we came for his help-"

"Hel?" He echoed the word sounding jumbled on his lips. I nodded frantically, my nails breaking against his armour, half my body flush against him now and he held my weight up with ease.

"Yes, yes, Hel!" I looked around, gesturing at the misty surroundings, the sky-scrapping trees, the darkening night sky, "What level? What Pit? What Chasm?" But my words seemed to just confuse him even more, dark brows furrowing.

My eyes screwed shut with frustration and I opened my mouth again, to repeat those same words, hoping this time something would click- and then I felt it, felt them.

"Fuck," I gasped, launching back, my fingers untangling from the male before me as I scrambled away. His hand- brutally scarred, I realised- squeezed, but when he saw the fear and panic sullying my eyes, he reluctantly let go.

And I inched back and back and back until I felt Bryce beside me- and she was shaking just as much as I was. Because stood behind that male, were three more... demons? No, no, Fae, two of them were Fae.

We were surrounded now, outnumbered.

"Shit, shit," Bryce hissed and when my eyes met hers, half-risen, legs knocking together as she tried to stand, I saw it on her face- we were fucked, royally fucked. "We can't fucking take them all."

I sucked in a shallow breath and with it, I steeled my spine and forced the alarm to clear from my face. The first male's eyes scrutinised me, observed as I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, refusing to cower- and I swear his lip tilted at the corner.

"Prince Aidas, we're looking for Prince Aidas," I looked past him, to the two Fae females, beautiful Fae females and another handsome male with wings standing beside them. "Is this Hel?"

One of the females stepped forward, petite in every sense of the word, her dark, cropped hair so at odds with the gleaming silver in her angular eyes- eyes that seemed to look over me, over Bryce, and narrow.

I didn't blame them. We were covered in blood, seeping through our clothes, sticking to our skin, coating our hands and neck, and speckled against our faces. Blood that was not ours.

The other male spoke, just as tall, if not taller than the first with those same hazel eyes and those dark, foreboding wings. He shook his head, long raven hair shifting from his bun, and I watched as the female beside him, pretty and fawn-haired, pursed her lips.

Bryce bared her teeth, red hair swinging in her ponytail as she stepped forward and I fought against my instinct to help, to grab onto her to stop her tumbling over. But we were the prey here, they were the predators and we had to do everything in our power to not become food.

"Is this world Hel?" Bryce asked and something shifted in the air at the sound of the Old Fae Language on her tongue, that petite female flinching at the words. "We need to see Prince Aidas."

The others gaped at the smaller female as if her shock was the most alarming thing about this situation. But I sagged in relief- finally, someone who fucking understood us. But that seemed secondary to her, as that female glanced from the Starsword on the floor at her feet to the first male's dagger at his side.

He slid it free, and it was as if someone had ripped the ground out from under our feet.

"Oh my fucking Gods," It was a twin to the Starsword, a mirror with its dark hilt and engraved blade. And Bryce's hand found mine, tugged me back with her as the Starsword began to glow, vibrating with white magic.

And almost as if in answer the dagger pulsed black.

It fell from the male's hand, alarm breaking through the pure ice hardening his eyes and I would have laughed under different circumstances- laughed at seeing these fully grown, powerful creatures flinching from these weapons.

Except I was fucking terrified too.

"Gwydion," The dark-haired female gasped, red-painted lips parting in shock as she stared down at the Starsword- known by a different name here, a name I had never heard before.

"Please, is this Hel?" I stumbled slightly over the language, unused to the mother tongue of the Old Fae, but still, I locked my intreating gaze onto that female and demanded again, "Is this Hel? We need to find Prince Aidas."

She pursed her lips and Bryce's nails dug into the skin of my palm, her body stiffening under that stare. She looked over us- the mess of make-up smeared across our faces, the clothes and shoes caked in blood, and the bruises and cuts looming over our skin.

So at odds with them, with their outdated attire. For some reason, I thought back to the old fantasy movies Danika used to drag me and Bryce to, just so she could laugh and throw popcorn kernels at the screen.

My heart burned in memory of her.

I saw a blare of blue, bright enough that it had me blinking through the tears that lined my eyes in memory of my friend. As the haze cleared, I locked onto that beautiful male and saw something solemn in his face- like he had felt my grief at that moment.

I didn't have the time to contemplate how.

"No one has spoken that language here in over fifteen thousand years," She spoke, tone clipped and chin high, "I do not know any Aidas here."

"Apollion then," I swallowed, and I felt Bryce sway beside me, hands rubbing at her face, muttering incoherently under her breath. "You must know the Prince of the Pit."

"I do not know of such people," She shook her head, her eyes weary and something in my chest caved, "This is not Hel."

This is not Hel.

Not Hel.

Where the fuck where we?

"Oh Gods," Bryce gasped and this time when she swayed again, I did hold onto her, wrapping her arm over my shoulder and baring her weight. I didn't let the calm mask I donned slip, didn't let them see me as anything other than strong. I couldn't afford to.

"Then where are we?" I asked, voice shaking as I looked between the two females, then the other swaggering male and then finally to the first. And my eyes now noticed the blue jewels embedded into his armour, blazing like sirens.

I locked my gaze on him and for some reason, whatever reason, I felt like he of all of them might take pity on us, have mercy on us. And I let him see that in me, that hope, strong enough that something unreadable whirled through his eyes.

"What world is this?" I breathed, just looking at him and I saw his throat work, that powerful body going unnaturally still. His lips parted as if to speak, but then something happened. I felt it again, that shift in time and space and air.

And then there were two more of them, two more Fae as if they had just appeared- from thin fucking air.

"How fucking many of them are there?" Bryce scoffed, and something like a chuckle rose in me, at how ridiculous this was, how unbelievable. Did the Gods truly hate us so fucking much?

I eyed the female first and watched her wade through the others to the front- lovely, fawn-haired, and her eyes a cloudy blue. They widened slightly at the sight of us, but they held little threat, only weariness.

And then two black, ominous wings erected high behind her, and the breath ripped from my lungs as a third male stepped out- midnight hair, and violet eyes, breathtakingly lovely.

"Ruhn?" My voice broke, and it was Bryce who had to hold me up now, had to keep me from falling to my knees at the sight of that male, so much like the Prince I had left behind on Midgard.

He blinked at me, likely as confused as I was.

And then he turned to the first male, the one with the scarred hands, and they spoke between them. Something almost akin to worry flickering through those hazel eyes as he watched me, the tears now leaking down my face, the haunted expression I wore.

"He-he looks like Ruhn," Bryce gasped, voice barely above a mutter and I heard the emotion clogging her words- for her brother, in the hands of the Asteri, so similar to this male that it physically made us hurt. "Why does he look Ruhn?"

"I don't know, I don't know-" Once the tears started it became hard to stop and Bryce, was beginning to sag in my arms, she was starting to drift in and out of consciousness now and I couldn't hold her for much longer I knew that.

"Please," I looked to the dark-haired female again, and I would be the prey, I would be food, I would chattel if it meant getting them to help us. "My sister is weak, she needs help and-and our world, our home... Midgard, it's in grave danger-"

Hunt, Bryce's mate. My friend.

Ruhn, Bryce's brother. My family and yet so much more.

"Don't- don't tell them anything, Alex," Bryce rasped into my ear, and I was starting to buckle now, teeth gritting as her body got heavier and heavier. "Don't tell-"

"Bryce!" She crumpled to the floor, and I fell with her, knees giving out, slamming into the grass hard enough that I felt the pain through every inch of my body. The Fae before us seemed to startle, but only the first male stepped forward, grass crunching under his boots.

Scarred hands reaching out as if to catch us. Catch me.

"I don't have any magic left, it's-it's depleted, more than depleted," Bryce rested her sweating forehead against my shoulder, and I bit my lip hard enough to taste metal as her eyes fluttered.

"Mine too," I whispered back, and the muttering amongst the others told me they were confused, that us speaking in our native tongue did not sit well with them. They didn't like not knowing what we were saying. "It's going to take a long time for it to come back, we need them to not kill us before then."

"C'mon Alex," Bryce lifted her eyes to mine, dry amusement in them, "Flutter those lashes and throw them a pretty smile, works with the males back home."

Their muttering got louder, and more voices joined in.

"These definitely aren't the males from home," I scoff- only Bryce could make a snarky quip at a time like this. "We don't have this kind of eye candy back home."

"Speak for yourself," Bryce's lip tilted. "Hunt Athalar happens to be my mate."

Her mate. I felt her chest seize in memory of him.

And it's that, that awful hurt in her eyes that makes me exhale with resolve. I draw on every ounce of exhaustion and pain and suffering we had endured these last few days, these last years- and I look back to those Fae with unveiled desperation.

"Please," I say again, and when I picture Ruhn and Hunt, when I picture our parents and our friends, my tears become real, "You have to help us."

The dark-haired female seemed to translate my words to the others, and something almost softened across their faces- kind, these people, they seemed kind. The fawn-haired female, who I noticed had a tapestry of dark whirls tattooed up her right arm, smiled sadly at me and spoke.

"She wants to know your name," the petite one relayed.

I could taste the salt of my tears in my mouth and my throat worked as I searched across all those lovely faces. I stopped at the first male, something tugging at me, an incessant throb that only settled when my eyes found him again.

There was a tense silence as we stared at each other, my arms wrapped around Bryce, holding her weak body to mine, no longer able to open her eyes much less speak. The male saw that, saw that we weren't a threat, at least not right now, and he dipped his head in the barest nod.

As if to say- we won't harm you.

"I'm Alexis Quinlan," I met those violet eyes and tried not to shudder at the thought of Ruhn. I cleared my throat, looking down at Bryce in my embrace, her chest rising and falling- just barely. "This is my sister, Bryce Quinlan."

"Hello, Alexis Quinlan," He stepped forward, a small smile tilting at his gorgeous face and the sound of the Old Language on his tongue was as glorious as night and space itself. "I'm Rhysand."

One moment, Rhysand was smiling and then the next something wholly dark and terrifying eclipsed us.

And then there was nothing but oblivion.

***

Alexis Quinlan- that's what Rhysand said she introduced herself as.

Even the sound of her name made something in my chest spark, a call in answer to her.

I felt as if I knew her somehow, felt as if we had met before- it was that feeling that stopped me from sliding Truth-teller into the junction of her throat when I found her earlier. It was the shiver that ran down me when I grabbed her waist that made me stop.

Made it impossible for me to harm her despite every instinct in me screaming that she was a stranger, a threat against this Court, against my family, against everything I held dear.

Even if another instinct in me whispered that she was anything but.

"Azriel," Rhysand's voice broke through the wall of confusion and intrigue that had erected the moment I laid eyes on her, and it took all my power to slide my gaze to his and look unfazed. "What are you thinking?"

I glanced at where the two females lay, nestled together on the small cot, faces calm as they slumbered. My lips pursed at the first female, Alexis, and the blood that caked her- matted in her long, chocolate hair, crusting against her tawny skin, staining the tight, unusual clothes she wore.

Not a threat and yet she was covered in blood that was not hers.

"They said they came from another world- Midgard- how?" I forced away the incessant thoughts of her, jaw locking as my shadows danced across my form- whispering, whispering, whispering, just about her. "They possess Gwydion but seemed surprised by Truth-Teller."

My hands clenched at my sides; the dagger sheathed at my hip no longer pulsing with that dark, unnatural energy in answer to Gwydion. It was alarming, seeing the blade I had cherished and wielded for so many years suddenly become unfamiliar to me, become other.

"She said their world was in grave danger, that they needed help," Amren mused, her slender arms folding over her chest as she stood beside me and Rhysand, her eyes assessing those females with lethal scrutiny. "Who's to say whatever they fear hasn't followed them straight to us, if the danger even exists."

I thought back to first discovering them- weak, no power left in them, if they had any at all and she had cried- amber eyes welling with tears as she held onto me. I felt it as sure as if it were my own, her grief, her desperation.

It had felt real.

"They did not seem disingenuous," Rhysand's violet eyes moved between Amren and me, the cavernous walls so at odds with the stars in his eyes but seemed to match perfectly with his deep-set frown. "And if they were going to attack, would they not have taken their chances against Azriel, before reinforcements arrived?"

"Whatever they endured has left them defenceless, they couldn't have taken Azriel even if they wanted to," Amren examined her sharp, glistening nails, her tone almost bored, "Wake them Rhysand, all these assumptions are pointless. We need them to tell us the truth."

It seemed unlikely they would tell us anything, not willingly, not if the way Alexis had steeled her spine and raised her chin as my court surrounded her was any indication. And her sister, Bryce, had bared her teeth, enough ire in her eyes to translate the curses that fell from her lips.

These were not weak females, not feeble by any account. My power seemed to rally at that reminder, that they were the enemy until proven otherwise. And as Rhysand let a wave of his magic brush over them, pulling them free from their unconscious- I let my mask slip back into place.

Shadowsinger. Spymaster. Darkness incarnate.

The females stirred, dark lashes fluttering and the three of us braced ourselves as they both sucked in sharp, lungfuls of air and shot up. Bryce, red hair swinging violently, and teeth bared, reached back- for Gwydion- and her painted nails met nothing but air.

But the other female, Alexis, sprung out of the cot and to her feet- but she didn't reach for a weapon. No, my brows rose as her hands curled, palms exposing and- nothing. Nothing came from it.

"She reached for her magic, but there isn't anything left," Rhysand muttered, interest lacing his tone and I nodded gravely in agreement, watching her breath stutter from her in realisation. "They have power, enough that it's her first instinct to call for it."

"And they're trained," I said lowly, watching their eyes flicker over themselves, over each other, and the cavernous walls that surrounded them. "The sister went for Gwydion first, and now they're assessing the space- these are no novices."

Their eyes slid to us as if knowing we spoke about them. And rightfully so fear crept up their faces as they took in the scene, the three of us, the cell they were trapped in and not a weapon or a speck of magic left in them.

The grate behind us hissed and Alexis groaned, muttering something in her language, amusing enough that the female behind her cracked a dry smile. They shifted to stand before the cot, their eyes unflinching upon us.

Rhysand stepped forward and I didn't miss how Alexis stiffened and shifted in front of Bryce- her protector perhaps? Or maybe whatever they were, she thought her sister's life more valuable than her own.

Rhysand spoke in that Old Fae language, translating mind to mind. His hand extended, wreathed in stars and moonlight, two small beans lying in his palm. "Here, swallow this and it will translate our mother tongue to you, allow you to speak it too."

Bryce scoffed, looking at the bean as if it were a vial of poison. My head cocked when Alexis folded her arms across her chest, her dark brow raising at Rhys and she spoke, something sardonic crossing her lovely face.

Rhys laughed- and I glanced at him in surprise. Even Amren's lip quirked at the corner.

"She said," Rhysand's eyes met mine and danced with enough amusement that my shadows hushed, "That she doesn't swallow- no matter how nicely a pretty male may ask."

I chuckled quietly at that, and something akin to approval hummed in my chest as my gaze shifted to hers. And it blared brighter when she tilted her chin in challenge, every inch of her soft body turning still at my attention.

"If we were going to kill you, we wouldn't need to use poison," Amren drawled, Rhysand translating again. The females met each other's eyes and Bryce said something, something that made Alexis flash her a smile- a devastating smile.

Bryce's hand trembled barely as she plucked the beans from Rhysand's palm, careful not to touch him and there was silence as they slipped it between their parted lips, grimacing as they swallowed it dry.

They gasped- in pain I realised, and it became increasingly difficult to stay rooted in place as they bucked, as she writhed, body convulsing, eyes screwed shut. I gritted my teeth as Bryce slumped back onto the bed, reeling, Alexis now bracing her palms against the cave walls to keep herself steady.

"If you were trying to hurt us a fucking knife would have done the job just as well," Alexis scowled, panting as she held the wall. My shadows skittered at the sound of her voice- soft and melodic to my ears.

"Poison might have been better than... whatever the fuck that was," Bryce said, husky voice half-muffled by the hand at her mouth as if she was forcing down bile - an answer to the pain that had thrashed her insides apart moments before.

"My apologies," Rhysand smiled, sounding anything but apologetic and their eyes narrowed as if they knew that. "But the language barrier was growing tedious, wouldn't you say?"

Bryce mumbled something incoherent, and we watched as she rose to her feet again, both their faces tight with discomfort as they steadied themselves, standing side by side as they had before and faced us.

They wanted answers as much as we did it seemed.

"You said your names were Alexis and Bryce Quinlan," Amren took a step forward, and her gaze slid over them, unimpressed. But to their credit they didn't baulk, if anything Alexis mirrored that look, taking in Amren's clothes with veiled humour. "You say you came from another world- if you are to be believed, how did you come here? Why?"

"Where is here?" Bryce swallowed, gaze flickering over the space again, "What world is this?"

"Why do you speak the Old Language?" Amren argued, eyes narrowing.

"Why do you?" Bryce countered, jerking her chin and Alexis rolled her pretty eyes, already tired of the back and forth- it nearly made me smile.

"Why are you covered in blood that is not your own?" Amren's red lips tilted into a cruel smile and- silence. They didn't speak for several moments.

And then something else overtook them. Panic overtook them. They looked down at the blood, covering them and whatever had happened, whatever they endured at home, those memories came back with a vengeance.

Bryce began to hyperventilate, her breath sawing in and out and she looked around the room, eyes wide, as if the walls were beginning to close in.

"Bryce," Alexis grabbed her sister's hand, silver-lined her eyes as she looked at her, "Bryce, don't think about it, don't think about them, please Bryce-"

"We won't harm you," Rhysand frowned, and they seemed to realise the comfort in the words, and the warning too. My throat worked, my head spinning with so many thoughts as she grabbed her sister's hand, anchoring her, and met our eyes again.

"What world is this?" Alexis demanded, and I could see it, as she looked at us one by one, the power she might wield, the magic lying dormant in her veins. She looked to Amren, unafraid. "You said no one has spoken the Old Language here in fifteen thousand years. Why?"

"How did you come to be in possession of the lost sword Gwydion?" Amren countered and this time Alexis bared her teeth, sharp canines exposing with a soft snarl. That sound glided down my spine and over my wings.

"I thought we agreed that we didn't want to have tedious conversations?" She said, and Amren's smile broadened- as if recognising a worthy opponent. "Or should we keep asking each other questions while giving no fucking answers?"

"You mean the Starsword?" Bryce rasped, giving a hint of an answer- but none of us spoke. Her eyes rolled, a mirror to the face her sister had made minutes ago, and she sighed. "It's a family heirloom, It's been in our world since our ancestors brought it over...fifteen thousand years ago."

Alexis met Amren's eyes, and something whirled in them, something sarcastic- as if to say see, that's called answering the fucking question.

My shadows crooned at that look.

"How did you find this world?" Rhysand asked, and rightfully so, they both seemed uneasy in his presence, seemed to recognise that he was in charge.

"We didn't," Alexis sighed, "Like we said: we wanted to go to Hel. We landed here instead."

"How?" Rhysand's voice sharpened and they both grimaced at the sound that came hissing from the grate, as if sensing their High Lord's anger and pleading for a taste.

"How much do you wanna bet they're gonna feed us to whatever the fucks hissing in there?" Bryce mused, wincing at the sound and Alexis nodded, looking at the grate with dread.

"We're not exactly the most palatable females, Bryce," Alexis tucked her long, dark hair behind an arched ear and chuckled wryly, talking as if we weren't even here, "Maybe it'll taste the sarcasm in our blood and be uninterested?"

She quirked a brow, teasing her sister- at a time like this they were teasing each other.

"I can assure you that that they don't discriminate," I flashed my teeth in a wicked smile, and Alexis's eyes locked with mine at the sound of my quiet tone, hands clenching at the cruel amusement in my eyes. "They like the taste of a pretty female, sarcastic or not."

She sucked in a shallow breath at that, her shapely chest rising and falling in waves as she stared at me. There was silence, and I knew the others were looking at us, between us, sensing the battle of wills that raged.

"Look, I just watched my mate and my brother get captured by a group of intergalactic parasites," Bryce snarled, and I straightened at the anger in her voice. "We have no interest in doing anything except finding a way to help them."

Her brother. Not our brother.

I narrowed my eyes and looked between them then- they didn't look remotely alike that much was obvious, nor did they smell alike, their blood completely different. Sisters, but not by blood, sisters in the same way that Rhysand and Cassian were my brothers.

"Explain." That's all Amren said. And they looked at each other, seemed to read the words on each other's faces and then turned back to us and said nothing. Amren sighed, "Just look into their minds already, Rhys."

"Don't even think about it," Alexis hissed, angling herself before her sister again and she glared at Rhysand with true terror in her eyes. A mirror to how Bryce looked at him.

"I do not pry where I am not willingly invited," Rhysand said quietly, his face not yielding even an inch of how he felt. Bryce's eyes narrowed, and Alexis showed another sarcastic smile.

"Gods be good, there are some decent males left in this galaxy," She drawled, utterly unimpressed, "However may we thank you for not invading our minds and rifling through them. Should we bow in the face of such virtue, Bryce?"

"It's definitely something to revere," Bryce looked at her sister, and chuckled, "A male with a code of mind-speaking ethics."

Rhysand paused, entertained if the constellations in his eyes told me anything. And even I fought back my astonishment, my smile, surprised by these females.

"Then we'll have to rely on your words," Rhysand grinned, snapped his fingers, and then settled onto one of the three chairs that appeared behind us, crossing an ankle over a knee.

"I was wrong before Bryce, these males are just like the ones back home," Alexis muttered, rolling her eyes at Rhysand's dramatics, before dropping onto the cot behind her with a sigh. "Beauty and arrogance, nothing new here."

Bryce fought a smile, sitting beside her sister, so close their thighs brushed, as if needing the other for comfort, for support.

"Amren," Rhysand smiled lazily at the frowning female, gesturing to the chair and then to me, "Azriel." I dropped onto the chair, tucking my wings behind me, and bracing my arms on my knees.

Her eyes were on me. As if hearing my name had the same effect as when I had heard hers.

"You say your sword has been in your world for fifteen thousand years?" Rhysand asked, and if I knew Rhys then he was more than pleased that she thought him beautiful, liked that she considered him arrogant.

My stomach lurched at the thought for some reason, her thinking him beautiful. I shoved it down, deep within me, not daring to think of it again. Think of why I even cared.

"Brought by our ancestors- Queen Theia or Prince Pelias, depending on what propaganda you hear." Bryce said a shade hesitantly, but upon seeing Amren stiffen, seeing her react, her brow rose, "You know of them?"

"No one has spoken those names here in a very, very long time," Amren swallowed, and Rhysand had gone still- if Amren was worried, then we all should be. "They once dwelled here."

"So, this is it, this is where we- the Midgard Fae- came from," Alexis was breathless, like the piece of the puzzle they had been missing slid into place. "Our ancestors left this world and went to Midgard, but we forgot where we came from."

Rhysand looked at me and I shook my head, lips pursing, never before heard of such stories involving our people migrating through worlds. But then he looked to Amren- and Cauldron, she looked shaken.

"It's murky, I went in before-" Amren glanced to the girls and didn't continue that sentence, "But when I came out there were rumours- many people vanishing, some said to another world, others said they'd moved to distant lands, rumours that they had been chosen by the Cauldron and spirited away."

Something cold lit through me at her words, getting colder still when Amren lifted her eyes and sharpened them upon the females. "What I want to know is why you came here when you meant to go elsewhere?"

"Join the line, Amren," Alexis said, biting down on her name sharply. She wasn't afraid, stupid, or brave, I couldn't tell but my shadows seemed to enjoy it all the same. "We want to know the same thing- we have no desire to be here."

"You wish to go to Hel," Rhysand said, not a shift in his tone, "To find this Prince Aidas."

At his question, they again glanced at each other and knew just from each other's faces, their eyes, what to do. It was intrinsic, just as I was with my brothers, on killing fields, in council meetings, in situations of peril, I could see exactly what my brothers thought just from something as simple as a blink.

"Allow me to lay out the situation for you, Bryce and Alexis Quinlan," Rhysand leaned forward, and they both met his stare- warriors, fighters, survivors, that's what I saw in them. "We will not torture you or pry into your mind. If you choose to talk or not, is indeed your choice."

"Let me guess," Alexis cocked her head, silken hair sliding over her shoulder as she met those star-flecked eyes, "Just like it's your choice to leave us down here to rot. Until these four walls drive us fucking crazy and we have no choice but to tell you whatever you want."

"That's torture, isn't it, Alex?" Bryce mused sarcastically, her brows furrowing in faux perplexion.

"Yes, it is, Bryce," Alexis drawled, locking her ankles and meeting Rhysand's gaze again, "Chivalrous torture though- because you know, they have a code to follow after all."

Cauldron, under different circumstances these females, I think I would rather like them. Rhys seems to share my sentiment, a rumble of laughter dancing through my mind. Rhys smiled- and snapped his fingers. In an instant, they were clean- of blood, of gore, of whatever else they had been coated in.

Beautiful. That's the word that sprang to me first at the sight of her, just beautiful.

"To incentivise you," Rhys gave a half smile, more menacing than anything else. Another shared glance between the girls and then a defeated sigh.

"The Asteri are ancient, tens of thousands of years old and they arrived in our world fifteen thousand years ago," Bryce said, and something sullen flashed through her eyes, as if in memory.

"What do you mean by arrived?" Rhysand pushed.

"Honestly, we have no idea how they first got to Midgard." Bryce shrugged and Rhysand's face softened at the agony in her eyes, her scent turning cold, as if she could still feel them, whatever they were.

"The history has spun them as liberators, they found Midgard little more than a backwater planet inhabited by humans and animals and they created a perfect empire- a place where creatures and races from other worlds came to through a giant hole called the Northern Rift." Alexis continued, frowning, "It now only opens to Hel, but it used to open to everywhere, anywhere."

"What happened when these creatures arrived from other worlds?" Rhysand asked, his voice tight now.

"The official history is that Hel tried to invade Midgard but the Asteri in all their glory unified these people under one banner and banished the Princes back to Hel. The Northern Rift was fixed, with its destination set on Hel. A massive wall was built to keep out any demons that come through the cracks and the Asteri's indomitable empire lives happily ever after."

"And the unofficial history?" Rhysand asked, a shade more quietly.

Alexis looked at her sister, saw the question in those eyes- and then nodded, solemnly. Bryce turned back to us, bracing herself with a shaky inhale and exhale.

"The Asteri are ancient, immortal beings who harvest off the magic of a world, of its people and then eat it. We call it firstlight, it fuels our world. We're required to hand it over when we reach immortality, we seize our full power through a ritual called the drop and they siphon off pieces of it- like a tax on our magic."

"A tithe," Amren gasps- I've never heard Amren gasp before, even Rhysand looks alarmed by the soft sound. They furrow their brow but when Amren doesn't continue, Alexis swallows, continuing the tale.

"Midgard is one of many in a long line of worlds invaded by the Asteri. They have an entire archive full of planets they've conquered or tried to conquer- we saw it before we came here." Alexis clenched her eyes shut, haunted by the memory, "There were only three planets that managed to kick their asses to the curb- Hel, a planet called Iphraxia, and a world occupied by Fae, the original Starborn Fae."

"My sword- you know it by a different name," Bryce looked to Amren, who nodded slowly, "I think it came from this world- was forged here. It was a part of your history and then vanished, right? Hasn't been seen in fifteen thousand years? It lines up with the timeline of the Starborn Fae arriving in Midgard."

Worry- it bloomed over us, all of us like a phantom touch. And something uneasy furled in my gut, the way these females had appeared, the light and dark call and answer between Gwydion and Truth-teller- it was not right.

"We learned that long before the Asteri found Midgard, they were here- but you kicked them out, you defeated them," Alexis's face turned pleading then, desperate, "How? How did you defeat them?"

"Our history doesn't include any such event like that," Rhysand said- but the look he gave Amren, spoke of something more.

"The Asteri remember you- and they're pissed off," Alexis scoffed, and my shadows lurched at her words, at the threat these Asteri posed. "Rigelus, their leader, basically said it's his personal mission to find this place and fucking destroy it. You're number one on his list."

Alexis trembled as she said his name- Rigelus, and her scent darkened in fear, in repulsion. And something awful rose in me at the smell, at whatever he had done to make her shake that way- something dark and terrible and deadly.

"It is our history, Rhysand," Amren said gravely, and we both went still, "But the Asteri were not known by that name- we called them the Daglan." I jolted, wings rustling, and Rhysand's face turned ashen, golden skin leeching of colour.

Cauldron fucking spare us, the Asteri are the Daglan.

"How did you defeat them?" Alexis tried again, hope beaming in her eyes now, "Do you have any record about how they fell?"

"Nothing beyond old songs of bloody battles and tremendous losses," Amren frowned, and that hope, fuck, it dimmed and dimmed and then completely vanished from her eyes.

"You think that these Asteri want to come back here for revenge?" Rhys asked, shaking his head like he didn't quite believe it. "After fifteen thousand years?"

"These are petty, arrogant bastards, fifteen thousand years is like five minutes when it comes to Rigelus when it comes to his revenge," Alexis said, her face twisting with ice, "He has infinite time and resources to-"

"What resources?" Rhysand cut in, and now, there was not an inch of amusement to be seen on his face. No, his High Lord's instinct had taken over.

"I don't even know where to start explaining it," Alexis shook her head, looked at her sister, frowned and then turned back to us, reaching out a small, shaking hand to Rhys. "I'll show you."

That darkness twisted in my gut again, at the thought of his hand touching hers. I thrust it down with the other ludicrous emotions and thoughts that plagued me.

"One moment," Rhys frowned, knowing better than to fall so easily into a trap. He vanished, and an emotion akin to relief filled me, as she lowered her hand back to her lap with a dazed blink.

"You can teleport here?" Bryce asked, but not really asking.

"We call it winnowing," Amren said, and my lip tilted at their reactions. "Can you two, do it?"

Another short glance- and two heads shaking no. My smirk widened.

"No," Alexis squared her shoulders, meeting my eyes and raising a brow at me, "There are only two Fae who can."

"On your entire planet?" Amren started, "Only two?"

Liar- I let her see that word in my eyes, even as she bared her teeth slightly at me, before turning away, dismissing me.

"Let me guess," Bryce smiled barely, "You have more?"

"Only the most powerful, but yes. Many can here." Amren's words cut off as Rhysand appeared between us again and I lifted a brow at what he held between his hands. "The Veritas Orb?"

"Hold it, think of what you want to show us, and the memories shall be captured within for us to view." Rhysand nodded to the orb at his feet. The girls frowned, muttered something, a word I didn't understand- camera- I think and then nodded in resolve.

Alexis rose on stiff legs, tugging at her clothes almost subconsciously, and no one spoke as she waded forward on silent feet. She paused before it, glanced at Rhysand, then Amren and then me- I tried not to appear like I wanted to kill her.

She bent down, short fingers curling around the orb and my throat worked at the slip of flesh that was revealed as she leaned forward, my eyes averting away from the display of golden skin and full breasts.

She rose, top mercifully slipping back into place and my eyes met hers- they danced with humour, knowing what I had seen, knowing that I had chosen to look away. My shadows flanked me excitedly, even as my face remained a sheet of darkness.

"Here goes nothing," She muttered, stepping back and then she closed her eyes and held that ball. It was a few seconds, if not more, before she fluttered her dark lashes, and then rolled the ball back to Rhysand.

He picked it up, touched the top and everything, all the horrors within began to play out.

Dread, pure fucking dread lined us all.

"Guns," Bryce said pointing to a human man holding some sort of weapon in his hands, hitting a target from miles away. "Brimstone missiles." A furious explosion, a flash of blinding white light and then... everything was in ruin, rubble. "Omega-boats." Some sort of underwater ship, with more of those weapons within.

"Asteri." Alexis breathed and when the male came onto the screen, dark-haired and gangly, she looked away, couldn't face him even in her own memories. And as a white-hot power blasted from him, shattering stone and glass and everything in his way, I could see why.

"You live in such a world?" Rhysand swallowed thickly, and they just nodded. "And they wish to bring all those things here?" Another grim nod.

Her eyes were on me, observing me but I didn't meet them, pushed the feel of them away. I stared at that orb, at the horror shown within and I knew that we were fucked, that against those monstrosities, Prythian would stand little chance.

Guns, missiles, omega-boats, the Asteri- it would be a catastrophe beyond anything that the Hybern war had seen.

"Bryce-" Her voice shook suddenly, panicked and my gaze tore from that orb. To where the other female hunched and groaned- to where her back glowed- "Bryce- Bryce, stop!"

Rhysand's magic pulsed and so did mine- and before they could strike, I lunged.

"Stay the fuck away from her!" Alexis snarled as I stood before them, Truth-teller in my hand, poised to attack. I inched closer- but then that darkness began to leak from the blade again, and I stopped at the sight.

"Put it away," Amren hissed, "It sings for her, and by bringing it close-" It was gone whisked away by my shadows within a blink.

Alexis glowered at me but then she turned and met her sister's pale face and concern softened her expression. But that light still pulsed- bright, shimmering, iridescent- and the panic in both their eyes, told us everything they had tried to hide.

"The glowing letters inked on her back," Amren muttered, Rhys stood by my side now, watching those closely, "They're the same as those in the Book of Breathings."

They seemed to notice the shift in the air, the power rumbling through the stone and the way they stared back, the way she stared back, told me that they wouldn't go down easy.

"Explain or die."

____________________________

A/N:

HERE WE HAVE IT, CHAPTER ONE OF MY AZRIEL FANFIC!

This is a little sneak peek into what's to come but if you want to read the rest of this fanfic I am uploading it on Wattpad and AO3 (linked) My Wattpad handle is @itzwhatever and my ao3 handle is @b00kdiary

So excited to continue this story, I've been thinking about it for MONTHS.

@hellodarling1357 @charlineraven @starrystarkey93 @mockingjaytributes @nelapeach14 @alessiazeni @bishhh2003 @impossibelle @firebreathingbishqueen @lovely-susie @sarawritestories @hellowinterlane @minnieoo @charlineraven @acotarfics-mharmie009

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shadowdaddies · 10 months ago

Text

Existence

Lucien x f!Reader smut

A/N: this is just really fluffy/romantic pwp because Lucien has been on my mind

Warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, semi public sex?, overstimulation, p in v sex

Strolling along the bank of the river, you held your shoes in one hand and Lucien’s arm in the other. The grass was soft under your feet, crickets chirping as the sky continued to darken, and the stars brighten.

You sighed contently, leaning your head against Lucien’s shoulder as you paused to enjoy the view. You felt the press of his warm lips against your hair, a deep satisfaction settling over you as a broad arm tightened around your waist.

“I love you,” you whispered, hardly realizing that you had said it aloud until Lucien drew back. Heart thundering in your chest, you looked up at the striking male standing before you, his hair like molten fire in the moonlight. A hand moved to cup your chin, thumb stroking your cheek affectionately as a bright smile graced Lucien’s face.

“While it goes without saying, I love you. As evidently as the leaves need the trees, as the flowers need sunshine, I too, would be nothing without you. To say I love you is an understatement. I exist for you,” he breathed, pulling you against his warm body, his lips ghosting over yours in a way that set your nerves on fire.

The kiss was slow, precise, as Lucien often was. You mewled against him, grabbing at his long hair as you grew desperate for more. The scent of your arousal filled the air, earning a growl from Lucien as you arched against him, feeling his hard length straining against his pants.

“Please, Lucien,” you breathed. “If you want me... I want all of you.” Lucien’s restraint snapped, the kiss growing hungry as he guided you to lay in the grass, his golden-brown arms caging you in beneath him.

“I will take all that you will give me,” he breathed, voice strained as his gaze darted to where your dress had slipped, revealing your bare shoulder. Swallowing thickly, Lucien’s head dipped to your neck, licking and sucking slowly down to your exposed shoulder, licking a stripe down your clavicle as he left a dark mark over your heart.

“Mine,” he breathed.

“Yours,” you confirmed.

You tugged the ends of Lucien’s tunic, the male smirking as he stripped it from his body. Growing dizzy with desire, you rolled your hips up towards his as you marveled as his physique in the moonlight. Lucien leaned down, slipping the other sleeve of your dress over your shoulder, dragging the fabric down your body, exposing your chest to him.

He rutted against your covered core, your lover swearing under his breath as he cupped one breast, head lowering towards the other. A gasp left your lips as he tweaked your nipple between his nimble fingers, his tongue flicking out and swirling against the other sensitive bud. Head thrown back in pleasure, you wrapped your legs around Lucien’s waist, desperate for more of his touch.

“Show me... Tell me where you like to be touched,” Lucien ground out, eyes dark as his hand moved to slide up the skirts of your dress. You moaned, eyes rolling back as his hand lightly grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teasing just below where you needed him most.

“I don’t know, Luc. I’ve never...” you drifted off, red flushing your cheeks as a wave of embarrassment washed over you. Lucien’s eyes grew soft, his smile only growing as he looked up at you with an endearing admiration.

“No male has made you orgasm?” he whispered, still rubbing encouraging circles on your skin. You huffed, head thumping down against the grass as you stared at the stars, too mortified to look at him.

“Hey, look at me, angel,” Lucien murmured, his voice like velvet as he appeared above you. “It is nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, those males should be ashamed. You are perfect,” he whispered, thumb brushing lightly over your clothed center, eliciting a small moan from you.

“Good girl,” Lucien cooed with a smirk. Sitting up, he stripped you of your remaining clothes, his own cheeks growing red at the sight of your body, your full beauty on display for only him. Flicking his tongue over the dark bruise he’d left on your sternum, Lucien continued his descent, worshipping your body while he grew closer to your core.

Your breaths grew rapid and infrequent, struggling to catch your breath as his teasing grew tortuous. “Lucien, please. I need you, now,” you whispered. Golden eyes flicked to you, his scar crinkling against the dimples of his wolfish grin.

“Patience, angel. I am here to make up for lost time. For every male who has failed to satisfy you, I will give you pleasure tenfold,” he swore, eyes glowing in the darkness as he continued his descent.

Hovering over your core, Lucien looked up, his gaze locking with yours as he licked a stripe through the fabric of your panties. Lips parting in an ‘O’, your hands wove through Lucien’s hair as you fell back against the soft grass. You felt the warmth of his tongue press against your clit, soaking through the fabric of your underwear before he flicked up, thrusting against the sensitive bundle of nerves in between your thighs.

Groaning at the taste of your slick through the fabric, Lucien ripped the underwear from your hips, the ruined cloth carelessly discarded to the ground as he focused on you. Large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wide as Lucien’s tongue repeated the same movement from a moment ago - without the fabric between you, his warm mouth collecting your wet arousal.

You caught a glimpse of yourself gleaming on your lover’s tongue before Lucien spat it onto your clit, diving in to suck a pulsating rhythm against the swollen bud. You gasped, writhing in his firm hold as he repeatedly brushed a spot that sent shockwaves through your body, pleasure rippling down your spine.

Lucien was carefully watching your expressions, your reactions to every movement as he moved in calculated strokes against your body. A smirk formed on his lips as he watched your back arch, how your chest heaved while you forced air to your lungs, barely able to function under the intense pleasure.

He held you down, tongue flicking out against that same spot until you felt your pussy clench around nothing, body tightening before every muscle fell loose. A small scream may have left your lips as you rolled against Lucien’s face, the ecstasy unlike that which you’d felt before.

“Luc...” you babbled, hands tugging his long hair as you battled your incoherent bliss. A tongue flicked out against your sensitive clit, your hips bucking in reaction at the overstimulation.

“I know, baby. I know it feels good,” Lucien cooed, his breath warm between your legs. “You can take more, can’t you?” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your dripping pussy as his hand drifted further up your leg.

“I want you,” was all that you managed to whisper, still high on the cloud of satisfaction from his touch.

“You have me, always,” Lucien murmured, a finger prodding at your entrance before he pushed in, a smile gracing his lips at the lewd, wet sounds from each thrust. He added a second finger, the slight stretch pleasurable as you moaned lazily beneath him, relaxing in his hold.

Lucien chuckled, the only warning you were given before his fingers began curling inside you, hitting a spot in your walls that you had never felt before. You twitched and flailed in his firm grasp, his free arm pinning you to the grass as you were subjected to his skillful fingers.

Lucien continued his work with his tongue on your clit, sucking and licking as he stretched and stroked your pussy, wringing countless orgasms from you until you begged for mercy. His eyes softened as he took in your disheveled appearance, hair splayed in the grass below, flushed cheeks and darkened eyes peering up at him.

“Lucien, I need you. I need you to be one with me, please,” you begged, arms reaching out to haul his shoulders closer to you, lining his body up with yours. “I want to be intimate with you,” you confessed.

Lucien paused, looking thoughtful as he brushed the hair from your face, idly stroking against your bare skin while he spoke. “You think that because we haven’t fucked, that we are not intimate? I know the number of breaths you take as you flush when my fingers brush yours under the dinner table. I know your favorite breakfast, even though you insist that you’d prefer a cup of tea. I know what makes you excited to wake up each morning. Is that not intimacy in its finest? I know you - your body, your mind, and your heart - more intimately than any male every will,” he punctuated with a hand over the bare skin covering your rapidly beating heart.

“I want to be with you in every way, but do not mistake that I already know you in more ways than most would ever dream,” Lucien murmured, his lips pressing softly to yours as you savored the sweetness of him. His hand worked to untie his pants, shuffling them down before he settled above you, biting back his smirk at the awed expression that crossed your features when you realized his size.

“I’ve got you,” Lucien whispered, a kiss to your cheek as he slid inside of you, the missing puzzle piece you’d thought you would never find. With a nod, you gave Lucien permission to move, his gaze intent on watching your reaction with each thrust. Only moans filled his ears, scratches from your nails filled his back, praises filled his esteem as Lucien rolled against you like the tide along the shore - natural, fulfilling, so right.

You tapped Lucien’s back, the signal that you were soon to reach your countless high for the night, and his thumb found your clit. Rubbing in the way he had learned you liked, Lucien whispered sweet nothings in your ear, encouraging you as you crashed into your orgasm, legs shaking as your vision drifted in and out of focus. Lucien followed closely behind, one final, strong thrust sending you reeling before he spilled inside of you. One in every way.

“You are right,” you whispered, hands moving to cup Lucien’s confused face. “‘I love you’ does not do justice for how I feel about you,’ you breathed, unshed tears shining in yours eyes as Lucien smiled, bringing his forehead to rest against your own.

“I agree. For now, I will say that you are my existence. Because without you, I am undone,” Lucien whispered, stealing the breath from your lungs as his body tangled with yours, his kiss speaking for words that one never could.

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nyehilismwriting · 4 months ago

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called home

@childofthemoonandsun's prize for the palestine gfm raffle - the request was for a moment between nash and their siblings before joining scytha :-)

Sunset on Koreth. The sky bleeds. The air bleeds. The sands, stained red, reflect off the clouds, a feedback loop in sanguine. Her star, her sun, drags itself hand by bloody hand towards the yawning horizon, a wounded creature crawling home to die.

As above, so below: you bleed. The doctors say it's normal; that your bandages need changing, that the IV takes care of the electrolyte imbalance. That the blood is just a side effect of the surgery.

Nash takes your hand, and finds it cold. Finds it, like your bandages, stained red. The light is crimson, dripping through the narrow window: it spills across the white linens, and they say out loud:

“it'll be fine.”

“It'll be fine,” they say, again: again, again, until it feels like the only thing they remember how to say. It'll be fine. I'll be fine. You'll be fine.

Everything will be—

They grit their teeth, force a smile. Punch Shayan on the arm, a little too hard. Watch him flinch; swallow back a hot flash of guilt. Eighteen and terrified, and already unwilling to show it.

“Don't worry so much.”

He frowns; they swallow.

“You'll stay in touch, yeah?”

Sullen. Looking away. He doesn't meet their eyes. They rub their hands together, fingers against their palms. The air is thick and still; the air conditioner whines, strains against the copper-tinted atmosphere of outer Koreth. The sofa creaks as they shift, knock their knee against their brother's.

“Always.” They swing an arm over his shoulders, drag him into them: curve their body into his, hold him close for a moment. His breath is warm in the warm air; his shoulders shake. In the kitchen, their mother drops something; both of them laugh at the sound of her swearing, Shayan's tension shuddering briefly out of him.

Light spills across the ground, red and slick.

Later, in their memory, it's painfully vibrant: the colour of blood under fluorescents, a slit across the throat of the room.

It wasn't, of course: it was just the sunset. The sky red, the air stained with it, reflecting the clouds and the sand outside.

Nash knows that.

Their mother, cooking dinner. Not watching her eldest child leave, her goodbyes said.

They don't remember saying goodbye to her; nor to their father, nor their other siblings. Younger, busier: still at school. Still so young. In their memory, Nash has always been as they are now, their mistakes unforgivable, their brother trapped in murky amber. A sullen teenager and his closest sibling, a jaded, bloodied adult who doesn't remember their other sibling’s faces. Doesn't remember saying goodbye to their mother.

Just Shayan.

Just that moment, his shoulders caved in toward them, that slash of bloody light across the white tiles. They'd squeezed his shoulder, patted his arm.

They'd stood.

They'd said:

“it'll be fine” (again)

and they hadn't met his eyes. Outside, someone starts the shuttle engine (and in their memory, Nash leans in and kisses their brother on the forehead) and they take a step back from him.

“look after the others,” they tell him, another step back. Shayan still won't meet their eyes: Nash remembers the hangnail he's picking at, the strip of raw red skin against his nail. His hair, thick and dark and worn longer than theirs, hangs over his face. Stop it, they want to say; shout it echoing back through the memory, like if they think it hard enough he'll hear them. Still aged sixteen: still leaning into their side, still listening to their every command.

Still in that bright living room, watching the sun bleed across their white tiles. Still waiting for the call for dinner.

It's been a long time since they let themself look him up. Last they heard, he was off-planet, working on a space station; a promising mechanic. Nash is proud.

Later still, Nash will be relieved.

Always, always, Nash will be guilty, painting that red slash across every memory they have. Placing their brother in that moment in their every memory of him: every conversation, every shared joke, wherever and whenever, now locked in that white room with that red light.

They should have said something else.

Now, with your hand cold in theirs, your hair (thick and dark and pushed back from your face), they find themself unable to think of anything else to say.

They squeeze your knuckles, place your hand back on the cool sheets, and stand.

Step away (you don't meet their eyes) and say, quiet:

“it'll be fine.”

#writing #snippets #oh no i forgot my 'tagging' 'system'#anyway. this was a pleasure and a joy thank you for participating!!

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ghostlysoaps · 2 months ago

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Misfortune is no lonesome creature

[part 1]

A series of rapid knocks startles him from his work-induced concentration. He blinks at the door for a moment in sluggish incomprehension before he reaches for the handle. The people who know the unmarked slab of wood is anything but a forgotten supply cupboard can be counted on one hand and, sure enough, when the door swings open Gaz is the one to greet him with a smile.

“Garrick.”

“Ghost.”

He steps aside to let him pass. Gaz nods his thanks, hand coming to rest on Ghost’s bicep for a fleeting moment, and then he’s zeroing in on the huddled figure in the corner, smile dropping in a heartbeat.

“Tav, you fucking whore,” Kyle hisses and Ghost turns to stone, mouth inching open in preparation to defend Johnny and, by extension, himself. There’s nothing to it, regarding Johnny’s flushed cheeks and the sheets twisted below him or how he’s bare-legged in a bed not his own. That he’s burrowed into Ghost’s hoodie like he wants to drown in it. Realises that maybe he won’t have to when Johnny’s face splits into an exuberant grin, smiling at Gaz as if it’d kill him not to, eyes half-lidded and hands rising to entice Gaz forward with a deliberate flutter of fingers. Clutching at air like a child reaching for the spinning stars above.

“Mo ghràdh,” Johnny croons in a tone as rich as the scent of freshly ground coffee, husky from the lingering effects of his cold.

“Don’t be sweet with me when I’m mad at you,” Kyle says, falling into Johnny’s open arms with a series of sneezes muffled into Ghost’s bed.

Ghost has to look away.

They’d been subtle about it to the point where even Ghost is impressed by their discretion. Well… subtle might not be the correct choice of words. The two sergeants played up their friendship the way two closeted frat boys would, with touches and jokes bordering on the obscene before skittering away, laughing the interaction off as a joke. Kisses planted on cheeks, hands grappling flesh, sweet endearments thrown around casually with batted eyelashes to boot. The beauty of it meant they’d been hiding in plain sight.

In here though, neither of them had seen a reason to keep the charade up. Their touches linger in eternity. The terms of affection are sincere and saccharine – each and every one sending another ugly, dark tendril of emotion to tear at the base of Ghost’s larynx, urging him to spit abhorrent words until they pull apart to look at him.

The truth, no matter how he loathes to admit it, is that he’d never had a claim on Johnny in the first place.

He glances up at the sound of rattling coughs and frowns when he realises their origin is not Soap, sorta wishes he hadn’t when he sees Kyle sprawled chest-to-chest with Johnny, laying between his spread legs with nails scratching across his scalp and at the receiving end of sweet nothings being murmured into his ear. Doesn’t know whether he’s jealous of Kyle, or of Johnny. The thought, unexpected and unwelcome, doesn’t stop his body from moving on autopilot.

“Turn your head a bit,” he says quietly and Johnny guides Kyle until Ghost has unobstructed access to his ear. He delicately introduces the digital thermometer, holding the button down until it clicks. The numbers on the screen flashes and he frowns behind his mask. “Other side too.”

The process repeats itself and Gaz looks up at him with his warm, brown eyes. Lighter in shade than his own. Prettier too.

“What’s the word then, doc?”

“You’ll be dead by nightfall,” Ghost deadpans reflexively, and gets twin snorts for his efforts.

“Well, fuck,” Kyle mutters, the expletive rolled on his tongue as if he’s tasting whiskey. Ghost tamps down a shiver at it, busying himself with watching another smile form around the edges of Kyle’s lips. “Guess I’ll have to make the best of the time I have left.” His gaze drops to where Ghost’s mouth is, darting back up a split second later. It’s a joke, he knows, but that doesn’t stop him from considering the proposition for a moment too long. Soap must realise it too because he’s staring at Ghost with an unreadable expression on his face, head tilted in question and chin leaning on the top of Kyle’s skull.

Ghost steps back too quickly to be anything other than an admission of guilt.

“Don’t fuck in my bed,” he says.

Then he turns tail and runs.

Whilst mechanically preparing tea for the three of them, the good stuff he has hidden in one of the smaller kitchens on base, Ghost barely resists the urge to bang his head against the overhead cupboards. Not too long ago he’d come to a realisation; that he cared for Soap in a way unbefitting their difference in rank. Knew he’d burn buildings to the ground or botch assignments if it meant Soap would live to see another day. Drag him through hellfire kicking, cursing and screaming if that’s what it took to keep his heart beating for both of them.

Ghost fell for him fast, caught up in his whirlwind antics, easy laughter and barely contained violence. Found himself wishing to trace the scars on his skin with his lips. Ached at the thought of those hands being the first to cradle him gently. Wanted to hold him, keep him close for as long as Johnny would have him.

Perhaps that’s why he hadn’t seen it until now. Soap had a way of shining brighter than the sun, of eclipsing anyone who dared stray too close. Ghost enjoys the safety of his shadow, revels in the added anonymity it brings, how no one thinks to look twice at him if he stays a step behind.

Now he feels as though he’d blinked the afterimages from his eyes to learn that Gaz had been there too. At his side, enamoured with the same brilliant being, and occupying an equally large part of Ghost’s thawing heart.

He thinks he might have loved Kyle long before he knew himself capable of tender emotion.

Ghost slinks back into the room and plays nurse to the best of his abilities. Rolls his eyes when Soap jeers and wheedles him about wearing the proper attire while playing dumb as to what that would entail. Plies Gaz with fluids, food, medication, never once allowing his hands to linger on fever-warm skin. Takes on the bulk of their duties, delegating the rest to whomever is capable of doing a decent enough job of it. Returns to his room to find more things have appeared to breathe life into the dreary space.

Additional toothbrushes on the sink. Products for curly hair on the shelf in his shower – the expensive stuff he can’t be bothered to buy for himself, preferring instead to shave it all off when the strands grow limp, frizzled or dry. Graphite pencils. Sketchbooks. A tablet with Gaz’s initials scratched into it filled with reading apps and romantic novels. Clothing thrown haphazardly over the back of his desk chair and tossed in alongside his dirty clothes in the hamper.

His eyes sting whenever he thinks of his sergeants returning to full health since they’ll take it all back with them, leaving him to rot in his concrete coffin with only the echoes of them to cling to.

Whoever said it is better to have loved and lost must never have felt love like this, alternatively hollow and all-encompassing, tinged with bitter regret – having lost without ever knowing what could have been.

#this was supposed to be lighthearted #...yeah #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #soapgaz #gazsoap #ghostsoapgaz #ghostsoap #and #ghostgaz #unrequited if simon is to be believed #call of duty #ghostly writes stuff

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siriusleee · 1 year ago

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23:20

a/n: please reblog I love this piece.

pairing: ghost x medic!reader (hazy) tags: not really romantic, religious symbolism and imagery, dying, gunshot wound, blood, lots of cursing, lots of switching between character pov, obvious ptsd

Part 2 1.8k words

Exodus 23:20 Behold, I send an angel before you to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared.

He's going to die in this alley. Simon lets his head fall back against the brick behind him. His comms are lighting up - Johnny screaming on the other end for backup, for an exfil, for Simon to fucking answer him. But Simon can't; he doesn't know how much blood a human body needs to lose before it stops functioning - (cut through the femoral artery, hit the ribs just right and it doesn't matter because they'll be dead before you can even think about the blood) but he knows he's getting close to it. It's ironic, he thinks, that this is where it happens: some quiet alley in some fucking city a thousand miles from home and not face down in the desert somewhere. A quiet death for a man who doesn't deserve it.

It would be poetic if he had the brain for poetry.

Simon Riley has never believed in angels. He's seen too much to believe in them. there's been too many he's been too late to save who needed an angel more than Simon ever will - the angels never appeared for them. There is no divine savior coming for him. Johnny isn't going to sweep in and take him to safety. No Price to shake him sober. No Gaz to be the eye in the sky. Simon wouldn't deserve it anyway.

"-are you ok?"

"-the fuck is that?"

"-grab under his shoulders we can-"

Two sets of small hands grab Simon. He tries to tell them to go away - Johnny'll be here any moment to get him, but he can't articulate the words. Above him, the stars spin in a dizzying array. His feet stumble beneath him; when his knees hit the ground it doesn't hurt. The hands grab at his vest and haul him up. The voices merge around him - he can't make out what they're saying through the ringing in his ears.

Sorry, Johnny; I won't be here when you come looking.

He can feel his boots catch on the concrete below him as he's being dragged - he tries to get his feet beneath him, but they won't listen. His toes are freezing, but the air against the exposed part of his face is warm.

Can you guys fucking slow down?

The sound of a fist on a door rips through his skull. Shut the fuck up.

Simon Riley doesn't believe in angels, but one opens the door.

***

He stumbles on your doorstep, barely held up between the two boys on either side of him. One of the boys you recognize from the neighborhood - you had stitched him up earlier this year after he cut himself in a skateboard accident. He looks at you and then at the giant of a man he's struggling to hold up. A tactical vest - a skeleton mask - a patch that you don't recognize. Maybe you do, but it's unrecognizable beneath the blood spatter and viscera.

"I think he needs your help."

It takes two seconds for your years of training to kick in. You can feel your shoulder screaming at you - an old injury that never healed quite right - as you help the two boys drag the guy across your small townhome, a bloody trail left in the wake of the hurricane.

He's fucking heavy and you wonder what a miracle it was that the two boys could even drag him any distance to you. You're not sure what miracle worked to get him onto the kitchen table.

"Leave," you tell the two boys, "go home and lock your doors and do not open them for anyone do you understand me?"

They understand you.

The man on your table is barely breathing.

***

She's on top of him - he wants to make a quip about it, but his brain isn't connecting enough with his mouth. Johnny would be able to think of it faster than him. He knows she's talking to him; he can see her mouth moving, but her words are a soft hum. He can't tell if she's beautiful, her halo is blinding him.

Take it off.

"-name. What is your name?"

A breakthrough. A crack in the static.

"Come on dude; you cannot fucking die on my kitchen table."

I'm already dead sweetheart, otherwise, you wouldn't be here.

She curses more than he thought angels would be able to. Maybe it's not in their by-laws to keep a clean mouth; that must be reserved for mortals.

She's rough as she pulls off his tactical vest, her hands sliding underneath his drenched t-shirt. I don't fuck on the first date, sweetheart.

Can angels fuck?

It seems like the kind of thing that would be forbidden.

Her hands are so fucking soft and warm; Simon didn't realize he was freezing until she touched him - her skin is like fire against him. Her hand traces up his bicep, to his neck. She grabs his shoulder; maybe he needs to roll over for her. That's stupid though because he can't. His shoulder lights on fire as her nails dig into the shoulder there. Stop that.

The kitchen ceiling above him comes into sharp focus until she fills his entire vision. Her halo is gone.

"What is your name?"

She's begging him to answer.

I like that.

His lips are like sandpaper; his tongue is glued to the top of his mouth. His lips form around the word, but he can't make himself say anything.

***

His eyes light up when you pinch his trapezius muscle; beneath his mask, you can see his face rearrange in a grimace.

That's good.

He's not dead yet.

Your medic bag is dusty beneath your bed, but everything inside of it is still good. His shirt is drenched in blood; you drag off the tactical vest the best that you can do after cutting the thick canvas on the side. The shirt cuts off easier, so blood-soaked that the blood drips onto your knee..

Through the blood you can't tell where he ends and the injury begins. You think as you press the Quikclot to the wound that you should have put on gloves - who knows what this guy could have. But you never had time for that out in the field either. What difference is this? It was one of the first things you learned as a medic. Every battlefield is the same, every victim is just another body beneath your hands.

Keep 'em breathing. Keep it moving.

You hold the gauze with one hand, the other trailing down his arm to his wrist to take his pulse. 120.

Fuck.

You hear your old captain in your ear, walking you through all the steps.

Feet up.

Blanket on top.

Pressure on the wound. Add a new bandage on top of the one if the one below becomes saturated in blood.

Pray.

Fuck.

Beneath your bare feet, the floor is slippery with blood.

Fuck.

The comms on the guy's vest lets out a hazy sound of static and you reach for it, running off instinct and adrenaline. British voices explode on the other end - angry and searching.

"This is call sign Hazy looking for exfil. Last townhouse on Miller Avenue. I've got one down and bleeding out - he's going into shock."

The words slip out of you and for a moment you're back to mortar shells and blood on the sand. Dust in your mouth. Screaming in your sleep with blood caked underneath your bitten-down nails.

"Who the fuck 'r you?"

You repeat yourself, hand slipping on the button from sweat and blood, yelling over the voices on the other side.

"This is call sign Hazy looking for exfil. Last townhouse on Miller Avenue. I've got one down and bleeding out - he's going into shock."

A hand reaches up to wrap around your wrist. The guy on your table is looking at you, eyes alert but searching. When he speaks, it's barely a whisper.

"Ghost."

His hand shakes where he holds you.

"This is call sign Hazy looking for exfil. Last townhouse on Miller Avenue. He's dying on my kitchen table. Please."

***

She's hurting him. It fucking hurts when she presses down on his side. If Simon could open his mouth, he might scream at her. Might beg her to stop. His heart feels like it's about to break out of his chest; he can't breathe through his stupid fucking mask. He's gasping, hand reaching out to grasp her wrist. He doesn't remember trying to do what.

"Ghost."

He doesn't want her to not know his name. If she's his angel, she needs to know what to call him when she delivers him to where ever they're going together. What kind of first date would it be if he didn't at least tell her his name? Aren't angels everlasting? Are they going to be together forever?

That might not be too bad.

"This is call sign Hazy looking for exfil. Last townhouse on Miller Avenue. He's dying on my kitchen table. Please."

Hazy. What kind of name is that? Fitting though, he thinks, because he can't make her features about above him as she presses on his side.

Hazy.

Hey.

Hazy.

That fucking hurts.

***

They don't even attempt to just open the front door - it shatters off of its hinges as their boots connect with the flimsy wood. They come in guns pointed; it's not the first time this has ever happened to you. Might not be the last.

They're screaming at you to put your fucking hands up, and you're screaming at them to get you a fucking towel because he's bleeding through and you don't have anything else to put on top. It is a cacophony of noise; your ears are ringing, and your hands shaking against Ghost's side.

This is exactly why you left in the first place.

This shit fucking sucks.

One of the men - the youngest-looking one - finally listens to you and snatches a towel you have laying on the back of the couch. Outside you can hear an ambulance screaming; intermingling with the men screaming into their comms, screaming about getting someone there now.

Thirty seconds.

Thirty seconds and he's gone - loaded onto a stretcher and rolled out of your townhouse, the remnants of your broken front door slamming against the wall behind them. One man is still screaming at you, hand grabbing your shoulder roughly as the blood from your hands drips to the linoleum below.

***

Her hands are replaced with rough ones; they drag him away from her - he tries to stretch his hand out towards her to grab her, to bring her with him. Guardian angels have to come guard. He can't get anything to work.

It nearly fucking kills him, turning his head back towards her to catch a glimpse of her standing there, hands bloodstained and dripping. Johnny's screaming at her; he reaches out to grab her shoulder. Simon wants to tell him to take his fucking hands off of her - she's here for Simon anyway. Johnny doesn't get the girl this time.

She doesn't look at Johhny - she only has eyes for Simon.

That's good.

She disappears around the corner, her halo the last thing Simon can see in the darkness.

Hazy.

Fuck.

#my fics #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod x you #ghost #simon riley

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novaursa · 2 months ago

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The Price of Fire (17)

- Summary: In the shadows of the Red Keep, the daughter of the Mad King, Princess Y/N Targaryen, finds herself caught between duty, love, and survival. As her father’s madness deepens and political intrigue swirls, she seeks solace in a forbidden romance with her sworn protector, Ser Arthur Dayne. With King Aerys plotting to use her as a pawn and her brother Rhaegar maneuvering to shield her from their father’s grasp, Y/N must navigate a web of deceit and desire. As tensions rise, secrets ignite into fierce passion and dangerous alliances, where the wrong move could mean the end of them all.

- Paring: targ!reader/Arthur Dayne

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 6 000+

- Previous part: 16

- Next part: 18

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @lightdragonrayne @onlyrealjoy @hajmola-vs-aamchaska

The wind tore at your hair and clothes as Terrax flew through the night sky, the stars above a blur of distant light as the dragon carried you farther from familiar ground. Your hands, slick with blood from your wounds, trembled as you gripped Terrax's spine, the jagged edges of his scales digging deeper into your flesh with each passing moment. The sharp sting had become a dull throb now, but the pain was constant, a reminder of the unnatural bond you shared with the creature beneath you.

The air was cold, biting at your skin, and though the world below you seemed vast and endless, you were beginning to feel the weight of exhaustion creeping in. The blood loss had sapped your strength, making each breath more difficult than the last. You pressed your forehead against Terrax’s warm scales, your vision blurring as you fought to stay conscious. The dragon’s massive wings beat steadily, each stroke carrying you farther from safety, farther from Starfall, and closer to some unknown destination.

"Broken wings, falling stars, mother sings, father scars."

The voice in your mind was louder now, more insistent, its disjointed phrases swirling like a storm. Terrax’s thoughts were bleeding into yours, the fragmented remnants of the dark magic that had brought him into the world. You could feel the chaos in his mind, the way his thoughts twisted and tangled, a reflection of the madness that had been bound to him in the ritual.

"Fire burns, blood flows, mother weeps, father knows."

"Terrax," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the howling wind. "Please... take me back. I need to go back to Starfall."

But the dragon did not respond. His golden eyes were fixed ahead, his massive wings carrying you farther into the unknown. He was driven by something beyond your understanding, something that had brought him to these unorthodox places, far from the comfort of home. You had already flown past the ruins of Meraxes, and now, as the land shifted beneath you, the terrain below became more desolate, more barren.

Your head swam, the dizziness growing stronger as your blood continued to seep from the wounds Terrax’s scales had inflicted. The cold was seeping into your bones now, making it harder to think, harder to hold on. You clung to Terrax, your grip weakening with every passing moment.

"Terrax..." you murmured again, your words slurring as the world spun around you. "Please... take me back..."

The dragon’s thoughts continued to whisper in your mind, fractured and unhinged.

"Mother cries, father burns, all the world returns."

"Grave is near, fire is here, blood is clear, nothing to fear."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the madness of his thoughts, but the connection between you and Terrax had grown too strong. It was as if the dragon’s mind had become entangled with your own, a reflection of the dark magic that had bound you together.

You tried again, desperation filling your voice. "Terrax, please. I need to go back."

For a moment, there was silence. Terrax’s wings continued to beat, but the chaotic swirl of his thoughts seemed to quiet, as though he had finally heard you. The dragon’s massive body shifted slightly beneath you, and you felt the subtle change in his flight path as he turned, angling his wings toward the direction of Starfall.

Relief flooded through you, but it was short-lived. The exhaustion from blood loss was catching up to you, and your vision blurred once more, the edges of the world fading into darkness. You clung to consciousness, but it was slipping away, your strength ebbing with each passing second.

"Mother sleeps, father weeps, the blood runs deep."

The voice in your mind echoed one final time before the world went black, and you felt yourself slipping away into the darkness, your body limp against Terrax’s warm scales as he carried you back toward Starfall.

You could only hope that you would survive the journey.

You woke slowly, the haze of unconsciousness lifting like a fog, but with it came the dull ache of your body, the raw sting of wounds that still hadn't fully healed. The unfamiliar scent of spices and sea salt hung in the air, and the warmth of the room felt too dry, too hot. You blinked, trying to focus as the room swam into view. This wasn’t Starfall.

The bed beneath you was soft, covered in richly woven blankets, but the architecture around you was distinctly Dornish—the arched windows open to the breeze, the light sandstone walls, the distant sound of the sea crashing against the shores. You were in Sunspear.

Confusion rippled through you, your heart pounding as the memories of the last hours—or had it been days?—flooded back. Terrax had taken you, carried you through the night sky, ignoring your pleas to return to Starfall. You had fainted, your blood loss too much to bear. But now you were here. How had Terrax brought you to Sunspear?

Before you could make sense of it all, the door to the room creaked open, and a familiar figure entered with a graceful stride.

"Ah, you’re awake at last," Ellaria Sand said, her voice carrying a soft note of amusement as she stepped closer. Her dark, sun-kissed skin seemed to glow in the warm light of the room, and her dark curls fell loosely around her shoulders. She wore the loose, flowing silks of Dorne, and her expression, though friendly, held a hint of curiosity.

You tried to sit up, but the effort made you dizzy. Ellaria quickly came to your side, her hand gently pressing you back against the pillows. "Take it easy. You’ve been through quite an ordeal, my dear. It’s good to see you finally awake."

Your mind spun, the weight of your confusion and worry pressing down on you. "What… what happened? How did I get here?" you asked, your voice still weak and hoarse.

Ellaria smiled faintly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Your dragon brought you here," she said with a slight chuckle. "He gave us quite a bit of trouble when he arrived. Terrax isn’t exactly subtle when he decides to land in the middle of Sunspear. You were unconscious when we found you, and it took a great deal of effort to calm him down. He didn’t seem too pleased with anyone touching you."

You blinked, the memories coming back in fragments—Terrax’s wild flight, the pain, the disjointed thoughts that had filled your mind. The dragon had brought you here, to Sunspear, but why?

Your heart suddenly clenched with fear as your hand flew to your abdomen. "The babe," you gasped, your voice laced with panic. "My child—"

Ellaria's expression softened as she placed a calming hand over yours. "Your child is fine," she reassured you, her voice soothing. "Don’t worry. You’ve lost a lot of blood, but the babe is unharmed. The healers checked on you as soon as you arrived. You’ll need time to recover, but you and your little one are safe."

The rush of relief that flooded you was almost overwhelming. You sank back against the pillows, closing your eyes for a moment as the worry drained from your body. The weight of that fear had been unbearable, but knowing your child was safe—knowing that despite everything, they were still with you—was enough to soothe your racing heart.

"And Arthur?" you asked softly, opening your eyes to meet Ellaria’s gaze.

She smiled warmly, her tone reassuring. "Word has been sent to him. He’ll be relieved to know you’re safe, I’m sure. He’s probably already riding this way. It’s not every day a knight finds out his lady has been flown to Sunspear by a dragon."

You let out a weak, breathless laugh, though the exhaustion still clung to you. Arthur. You knew he would come, but you hated to imagine the fear he must have felt when Terrax took you from Starfall. The bond between the two of you had always been strong, but now, with the child growing inside you, you could feel his presence with every beat of your heart. He would come. Of course, he would.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.

Ellaria tilted her head, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. "There’s no need to thank me. You’ve brought a bit of excitement to Sunspear. Besides, it's not every day we have a dragon princess among us." Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Just promise me you’ll keep that beast of yours under control next time. We had quite the spectacle when he landed."

You managed a small smile, though your body still felt weak, the lingering pain a reminder of just how much you had endured. "I’ll do my best," you murmured. "But Terrax has a mind of his own."

Ellaria chuckled softly, her fingers brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as she stood. "Rest now. You need your strength. Arthur will be here soon enough, and we’ll make sure you’re well taken care of in the meantime."

As she moved toward the door, you closed your eyes, the exhaustion finally pulling you back into a fitful sleep. But even in your dreams, the voice of Terrax still echoed in your mind, the disjointed words flickering like flames in the distance.

You sat near the open windows of your chamber in Sunspear, gazing out at the endless horizon. The sea beyond shimmered in the midday sun, and though the warmth was comforting, your thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in the events that had unfolded in the last few weeks. Terrax’s unpredictable behavior, the constant threat looming over your house, and the uncertainty of what the future held had left you feeling like a ship without a course.

A soft knock echoed from the door, and before you could respond, it swung open with a sudden force. You turned, startled, just as Rhaegar strode into the room, his silver hair catching the sunlight. Without hesitation, he rushed toward you, his arms open. The sight of him—your brother—flooded you with a wave of emotions, and before you knew it, you were on your feet, rushing to meet him halfway.

“Rhaegar!” you breathed, your voice catching in your throat as he wrapped you in a fierce embrace. It had been many moons since you had last seen him—since you had fled the chaos of King’s Landing—and now, here he was, holding you like he had feared he might never see you again.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Rhaegar whispered into your hair, his arms tightening around you, his voice thick with relief. He pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cup your face, his violet eyes scanning your features as if searching for any sign of harm. “Are you all right? I’ve been so worried...”

You nodded, your hands resting on his arms as you gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Rhaegar. Terrax brought me here, but I’m safe. I’m safe now.” You reached up, resting your hand over his as he continued to study your face, his brow furrowed with concern.

He sighed softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “So many things could have happened, and I wasn’t there.” He shook his head, his gaze still lingering on you as though trying to memorize every detail. “When I heard you were here in Sunspear, I had to come. I couldn’t stay away.”

You smiled again, though the tension in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. “What are you doing here, Rhaegar?” you asked softly. “I didn’t expect you to come to Dorne.”

He released your face, stepping back slightly but still holding your hand. His expression darkened, and you could see the weight of the world on his shoulders, the burden of the rebellion and everything it had torn apart. “Most of the men who followed me have now joined Robert Baratheon,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with frustration. “He intends to remove our House from the throne—completely. All of us.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The thought of your entire family being wiped out, the Targaryen legacy erased, was unbearable. “All of us?” you whispered.

Rhaegar nodded, his jaw tight. “Every last one. He won’t stop until there is nothing left of House Targaryen.” His gaze flickered, darkened by the weight of the news. “That’s why I came here. Dorne offers support.”

Something in his eyes, something unreadable, caught your attention, and you frowned, stepping closer to him. “There’s more, isn’t there?” you asked, your voice soft but firm. You knew your brother too well to miss the unspoken tension in his posture, the way his eyes shifted slightly as if he was holding something back.

Rhaegar’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “They want something in return for their help,” he admitted, his voice quiet.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you swallowed hard. “What is it?”

He looked away for a moment, his gaze distant as if he was struggling with the words. When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with frustration and sorrow. “They want me to marry Elia,” he said, the name hanging heavily in the air between you. “Like it was planned, before Aerys refused.”

A silence fell over the room, the warmth of the sun suddenly feeling oppressive. You knew the marriage had been arranged long ago, and that Dorne had always wanted the union between the two great houses. But hearing it now, in the middle of this war, with everything that had happened—it felt like a betrayal.

Rhaegar turned back to you, his eyes filled with both defiance and tenderness. “But I won’t do it,” he whispered, his hands reaching out to take yours. “My betrothal to you still stands. You and I are the last of our line. We have to stay together.”

Your heart raced, but you couldn’t ignore the implications of his refusal. “And what about the support from Dorne?” you asked quietly. “If you don’t marry Elia, will they still help us?”

Rhaegar looked conflicted, his gaze shifting as though weighing a decision he had already made. Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I’m still in contact with Varys. The Spider has promised to take us away—both of us, and Mother. To Essos, where we’ll be safe. Away from Robert’s reach.”

“Essos?” you murmured, the word foreign and distant. The idea of leaving Westeros, leaving everything behind, was both tempting and terrifying. But the thought of leaving without Arthur—without the man you loved—was unbearable.

“I won’t go without Arthur,” you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Rhaegar’s face softened with understanding, his hand squeezing yours gently. “I know,” he said. “We’ll find a way. But we may not have a choice. The war is coming, and we have to survive, no matter the cost.”

The thought of leaving everything behind, abandoning the fight for the throne, and fleeing to a foreign land filled you with a strange mix of hope and fear.

But the shadows of the war loomed ever closer, and in the distance, you could still hear the whispers of dragonfire, calling you back to the flames.

The warmth of the Dornish sun bathed the stone walls of Sunspear as Rhaegar and Oberyn led you through the winding halls toward the courtyard. The breeze carried the scent of citrus and spices, and though you had been recovering from your wounds, the fresh air felt invigorating after the days spent resting indoors. Rhaegar walked at your side, his arm lightly supporting you as you moved carefully, still feeling the dull ache of the gashes Terrax's scales had inflicted. Oberyn walked just ahead, his usual swagger tempered by the seriousness of the moment.

As they guided you to the courtyard, the sound of rustling wings and agitated growls reached your ears. Terrax was there, his massive form restless as he paced, his golden eyes gleaming with a wildness that had only grown since his unpredictable flight. The dragon's agitation was visible, his claws scraping against the stone floor as his tail lashed behind him.

You swallowed, your heart tightening with a mix of affection and apprehension as you looked at him. Terrax was a creature of raw power, bound to you in ways you still didn’t fully understand, but today there was something different in the air.

"Don’t worry," Rhaegar said softly, his voice calming as he glanced at you. "He knows you're here. He’ll settle."

Oberyn smirked from just ahead, his usual devil-may-care attitude on full display. "Though I’d keep my distance while we fit him with what we’ve made. Dragons have a temper, and I’d hate for him to take it out on the wrong person."

You gave a small smile at Oberyn’s jest, though the thought of Terrax’s growing restlessness did nothing to ease the tension in your chest. As you approached the courtyard, you finally saw what Rhaegar had brought you here to see.

In the center of the courtyard, laid across a low stone bench, was a saddle—no, the saddle, the one Rhaegar had been working on with the help of Sunspear’s leatherworkers. It was unlike any saddle you had seen before, clearly designed with the unique needs of a dragon in mind. The intricate leatherwork, the reinforced straps, and the careful stitching were all signs of skilled craftsmanship, but what made it truly remarkable was its size and shape. It had been built to fit the ridges of Terrax's back, the design functional yet elegant in a way that suggested both utility and royalty.

Rhaegar gestured toward the saddle, a slight smile on his face as he glanced at you. "I found some old writings about saddle designs in books on the Conquest here in Sunspear’s library," he explained, his voice filled with pride and warmth. "Saddles like this were used by our ancestors during Aegon’s conquest. They were meant to help dragonriders better control their mounts during battle. I thought it might help with Terrax, especially after what happened."

You blinked, momentarily speechless as you took in the sight. The saddle was more than just a tool—it was a symbol of your bond with Terrax, a connection that ran deeper than blood, deeper than even your heritage. Rhaegar had gone to such lengths to make this for you, to ensure your safety and strengthen your bond with the dragon. It was humbling.

"Rhaegar..." you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. "You did all this?"

He smiled, the faintest hint of pride in his eyes. "For you. And for Terrax. I know how much he means to you—and what he represents for all of us."

Oberyn grinned, his hands resting on his hips as he looked between the two of you. "It wasn’t easy, I’ll admit. Getting a dragon to stay still long enough to measure him for a saddle? Quite the challenge. But we managed. Somehow."

Your gaze shifted back to Terrax, who was still pacing restlessly in the courtyard, his wings twitching slightly as if he could sense the attention on him. There was an air of unpredictability about him today, a wildness that made your stomach churn. But you had to trust that the saddle would make a difference—that it would allow you to ride him without the pain and danger that had come before.

Rhaegar stepped closer to the saddle, motioning to the leatherworkers who had been waiting nearby. "We’ll put it on him now. You’ll see how it fits." His voice was steady, but you could see the tension in his posture. Terrax was not an easy dragon to handle, especially when agitated.

The leatherworkers moved with caution as they approached Terrax, the saddle held carefully between them. The dragon’s eyes tracked their every movement, his golden gaze sharp and unblinking. His massive tail swayed behind him, the muscles in his body coiled with barely contained energy.

You held your breath as they moved closer to him, murmuring soothing words to calm him, though you weren’t sure if Terrax even heard them. Rhaegar watched closely, ready to step in if needed, but his focus remained on you, watching your reaction, ensuring you were comfortable.

Terrax let out a low growl, his wings flaring slightly as the leatherworkers lifted the saddle toward his back. But he did not lash out—did not burn them with fire or snap his jaws at their hands. Instead, he allowed them to fit the saddle over the ridges of his spine, though his body remained tense, his muscles twitching beneath the leather straps as they fastened them securely.

The saddle fit perfectly, its shape and size molded to Terrax’s form in a way that seemed almost natural. You could see the relief in Rhaegar’s eyes as the last strap was secured, and Terrax settled slightly, his wings folding against his body. The dragon’s agitation had not fully faded, but he was calmer now, his gaze shifting to you as if waiting for your next move.

"It’s done," Rhaegar said softly, turning to you with a small smile. "The saddle should make things easier for you. You won’t have to worry about his scales cutting into you anymore."

You took a step forward, your heart pounding as you approached Terrax, your hand brushing gently against his warm scales. The saddle felt sturdy beneath your touch, the leather smooth and well-crafted. You glanced back at Rhaegar, gratitude shining in your eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the wind.

He gave you a gentle smile in return. "You’ve always had a special connection with Terrax. I just wanted to make sure you could keep riding him—without getting hurt."

Oberyn chuckled from behind you, his tone light. "It’s not every day you see a dragon tamed—or saddled. I must admit, I didn’t think we’d pull it off."

You turned to face them both, a smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering soreness in your body. "I’m grateful. To both of you."

And as you looked back at Terrax, now fitted with the saddle that would help you ride him without fear.

The air in the Water Gardens was warm. You sat on a stone bench near the edge of a shallow pool, the cool water reflecting the bright Dornish sun. The sound of children laughing in the distance, running and playing under the watchful eye of attendants, was a soothing backdrop to the quiet conversation shared between you, Ellaria, and Elia.

Your hands rested on the small, but unmistakable swell of your abdomen, a sign of the life growing inside you. The soft fabric of your gown flowed around you, the heat of the sun tempered by the shade of the lush green trees that lined the gardens. You felt more at ease here, far from the chaos of the rebellion and the constant threats that loomed over your house. Yet, the lingering weight of your recent ordeal still clung to your thoughts.

Ellaria sat beside you, her dark eyes sparkling with their usual mischief, though her tone was soft today. "You seem to be healing well," she said with a gentle smile, her gaze drifting down to your stomach. "And the babe? No more complications?"

You gave a small, contented nod, your fingers tracing the slight curve of your belly. "No, everything is as it should be," you replied softly. "The healers say I’m making a good recovery." Your voice wavered slightly as you spoke, still overwhelmed by everything that had happened.

Elia, sitting across from you, her delicate features shadowed with a quiet concern, nodded in agreement. "It’s good to see you outside again. Sunspear has done wonders for you, princess," she said gently, though her eyes lingered on your abdomen with an expression that spoke of her own unspoken worries.

You smiled at both women, appreciating their company more than words could express, but before you could continue, the sound of hurried footsteps caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned toward the entrance of the gardens, where a familiar figure was striding through the arched doorway.

Arthur.

Your breath caught in your throat as you saw him, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His face was drawn with worry, but the moment he spotted you sitting safely by the pool, his expression softened with overwhelming relief. Without hesitation, he moved toward you, his long strides urgent, yet careful.

Ellaria glanced between you and Arthur with a knowing smile, her hand resting lightly on Elia’s arm. "Perhaps we should leave you two alone," she murmured, rising gracefully from the bench. Elia followed suit, offering you a small, reassuring smile before they both stepped away, giving you the space you needed.

Arthur rushed toward you as soon as they were out of earshot, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. He knelt beside you, his hands immediately reaching for yours, his touch warm and trembling with barely restrained emotion. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice hoarse with relief. "Thank the gods… I was so worried."

You smiled weakly, your own hands gripping his tightly as your heart swelled with love and relief at seeing him. "Arthur," you breathed, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. "I’m here. I’m all right."

He stared at you for a long moment, his violet eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and anguish. His fingers trailed down to your abdomen, where the gentle curve of your stomach pressed against your gown. His hand rested there, his thumb brushing over the fabric as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

"The child?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

You nodded, placing your hand over his. "Safe," you whispered. "Our child is safe."

Arthur exhaled shakily, his head lowering as he pressed his forehead against your stomach, his hands cupping your belly with such reverence that it made your heart ache. "I thought I’d lost you both," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "When Terrax took you… I didn’t know if I’d see you again."

You gently stroked his hair, your fingers running through the familiar strands as you tried to calm him. "We’re here, Arthur," you said softly. "I’m not going anywhere. I promise."

For a moment, the two of you remained like that, the world around you fading into the background. The distant sounds of the gardens, the soft trickling of water, all seemed to blur as you held onto each other, your bond unspoken but unbreakable.

Arthur lifted his head after a moment, his eyes still shining with unshed tears. He leaned forward and kissed you, his lips soft and urgent against yours. It was a kiss filled with longing, with relief, with the promise of everything that was still to come. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still gently cradling your abdomen.

"I won’t let anything happen to you or the babe," he whispered, his voice fierce with determination. "No matter what comes, I’ll protect you. Both of you."

You nodded, your own heart echoing the promise in his words.

And hope was enough. For now.

The sky was overcast as Rhaegar and Oberyn rode out, the distant mountains casting long shadows over the barren borderlands where Dorne met the Reach. Behind them, the Dornish army stretched in disciplined rows, the sun-and-spear banners of House Martell flapping in the wind. The sound of hooves on dry, cracked earth was a steady rhythm, but the tension in the air was palpable. Ahead, King Aerys and his army were approaching, their banners dark and foreboding. It was a rare thing for Aerys to leave King’s Landing, especially at such risk, but his obsession with your whereabouts had driven him to the edge of reason.

Rhaegar’s face was drawn, his jaw set as he rode in silence beside Oberyn. His thoughts were dark, his heart heavy with the knowledge of the confrontation ahead. It was no longer just a matter of rebellion or loyalty. His father’s madness had spiraled into something dangerous, and Aerys’s fixation on you—on his own daughter—had only grown with each passing moon. The rumors had spread fast, whispers that you were with child, whispers that Aerys was determined to have you and the babe for his own twisted purposes.

Oberyn glanced at Rhaegar, his expression unreadable, but the flicker of amusement in his eyes was unmistakable. "Your father has lost what little remains of his sanity," Oberyn said dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. "And now we meet him here, on the brink of war, while Robert Baratheon likely marches on King’s Landing. Madness has never been so well-timed."

Rhaegar said nothing, though the truth of Oberyn’s words gnawed at him. By leaving the capital exposed, Aerys had all but invited Robert’s forces to strike. But that was the price of his father’s obsession. Aerys cared for nothing now except you and the child he believed was Rhaegar’s.

As they crested a low hill, Rhaegar spotted Aerys’s forces—thousands strong, their black and red banners stark against the gray sky. At the front of the formation, Aerys sat on his horse, his silver hair wild in the wind, his eyes burning with manic energy. His presence was unmistakable, a figure of chaos, dressed in dark armor that gleamed with the reflection of wildfire in his gaze. Even from a distance, Rhaegar could see the twitch of his father’s lips, the erratic movements that betrayed his instability.

The two forces halted, and a tense silence followed, the wind whipping between them as Rhaegar and Oberyn rode out to meet Aerys, the armies watching from a distance.

As they drew closer, Aerys’s gaze locked on Rhaegar, ignoring Oberyn entirely. His lips curled into a sneer, and his voice cracked as he spoke. "Where is she?" Aerys demanded, his tone sharp, biting. "Where is my daughter? Where is Y/N?"

Rhaegar met his father’s wild gaze without flinching. He had known this question was coming. "She is safe, away from you," he replied, his voice steady, but there was an edge of defiance in his words. "You will not have her, Father."

Aerys’s expression twisted into one of rage, his hands gripping the reins of his horse tightly, knuckles white. "You dare defy me? You—who stole her away from me?!" His voice grew shrill, his eyes wide and gleaming with madness. "She belongs to me, and you will bring her to me, or I will burn the world to ash!"

Oberyn, sitting astride his horse beside Rhaegar, looked utterly unbothered, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He watched Aerys with a kind of amused detachment, though he made no effort to intervene. The Dornish prince seemed content to let the mad king rant, his dark eyes glimmering with quiet amusement at the scene unfolding before him.

But Aerys ignored Oberyn entirely, his fury focused solely on Rhaegar. "And I’ve heard whispers, rumors," Aerys hissed, his voice lowering but no less venomous. "That my daughter is with child. Is it true?"

Rhaegar’s heart clenched at the question, though he had prepared for this moment. He knew what Aerys wanted to hear, what madness would drive him further into obsession. With a calm he barely felt, Rhaegar met his father’s gaze and lied without hesitation. "Yes," he said, his voice firm. "She is with child."

Aerys’s eyes blazed with manic excitement, but before he could speak, Rhaegar continued, his tone cold and final. "But the child is mine. You will not touch her, and you will not touch our babe. You will never see them."

The words hung in the air, heavy with defiance, and Aerys’s face contorted in a mixture of shock and fury. "Lies!" he shrieked, his voice cracking. "You dare claim what is mine?! You would steal from your own father—your king?! I will burn you, Rhaegar. I will burn you and that bastard child in her womb!"

Rhaegar remained calm, his expression hardening. He had expected this, but the depth of Aerys’s madness still sent a chill through him. "You will not touch them," Rhaegar repeated, his voice low and filled with quiet menace. "No matter what you do, you will never have them."

Aerys’s fury boiled over, his whole body trembling with rage. "I’ll see you dead!" he screamed, his voice echoing across the battlefield. "You and all your traitors—burned in dragonfire!"

Oberyn finally spoke, his voice calm but mocking, his amusement at Aerys’s tirade evident. "You may want to rethink your strategy, Your Grace," Oberyn drawled, leaning slightly in his saddle. "You’ve left your capital wide open for Robert’s men. While you chase after your daughter, King’s Landing may not be so forgiving of your absence."

Aerys turned his wild gaze on Oberyn, his eyes narrowing in hatred. But he said nothing, as if the words of the Dornish prince were beneath him. His obsession with you had consumed him to the point where the fate of the capital, of the Iron Throne itself, no longer mattered.

"Enough!" Aerys barked, his voice ragged. He turned back to Rhaegar, his face twisted in fury. "I will have her, Rhaegar. One way or another, I will have her. And if you stand in my way, I will see you burn."

Rhaegar’s eyes met his father’s, filled with a quiet, unyielding resolve. "You will never touch her, Father," he said once more. "No matter what you do."

Aerys’s expression twisted, and for a moment, his hands shook on the reins of his horse, his entire body trembling with the force of his rage. But then, without another word, he yanked the reins and turned his horse around, riding back toward his army in silence.

Rhaegar remained still, watching his father retreat, knowing that this was far from over. The mad king’s obsession had only deepened, and there was no telling what he might do next.

Oberyn let out a low, amused chuckle, his eyes glinting with mischief as he turned to Rhaegar. "Well, that went about as well as expected," he said with a smirk. "Though I must admit, I was hoping for more wildfire."

Rhaegar gave him a small, grim smile, though the weight of the encounter still lingered. "It’s not over," he said softly. "Not yet."

#game of thrones #got #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf #arthur dayne x y/n #arthur dayne x you #arthur dayne x reader #arthur dayne

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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

Text

❝lemme spoil you babygirl❞

✭ pairing : earth 42 miles morales x reader

✭ fandom : spiderman into the spiderverse

✭ summary : miles enjoys spoiling his girl with anything her heart desires, and whiles she may not always voice what she wants he can tell simply by her eyes. After all the eyes are the window to the soul right?

✭ authors note : don’t take offense to half the shit I said in this, I’m Black and half Asian on my grandfathers side. This is written in good fun if you can’t take a joke kindly fuck off :)

✭ spiderman into the spiderverse masterlist

The streets of Brooklyn buzzed with life as Miles swung effortlessly between the towering skyscrapers, and buildings. The city was his playground, his domain, and he couldn't have asked for a more thrilling existence.

But amidst the whirlwind of his double life as both a high school student and the enigmatic Prowler, there was one constant that grounded him, that gave him a reason to fight the good fight every day – you.

(Y/N) had been in his life for as long as he could remember, but it was only recently that they had taken their friendship to the next level. The two of you were inseparable, and Miles couldn't help but fall head over heels in love with you.

As the Prowler, he had the means to spoil you, and he did so with a actual genuine smile on his face. He didn't ask for much in return, only your radiant smile and the joy that being with you brought into his life.

One evening, Miles and you found yourselves on a quiet rooftop, away from the chaos of the city below. The night air was cool, and the stars twinkled above, as if they were celebrating your presence.

Miles wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. "You know, I'd give you the moon if I could."

You chuckled, leaning into his warmth. "I'm happy with just you, Miles."

His uncle Aaron, who had become something of a mentor to Miles, had been watching from the shadows. He couldn't help but grin at the scene before him. He stepped out, causing both you and Miles to turn your heads in surprise.

"You treat that girl like she's your world, Miles," Aaron said with a teasing glint in his eye.

Miles laughed, his voice full of affection. "I got to, Uncle Aaron. Otherwise, some small-time punk's gonna come around thinking he can take what's mine."

Aaron chuckled, clapping Miles on the back. "You've got that right, nephew. But you know, it's good to see you happy."

Miles and Aaron shared a genuine laugh, the bond between them stronger than ever. The Prowler had a reputation to uphold, but he also had a heart that beat for the people he loved, especially for you, (Y/N).

As the night continued, you, Miles, and Miles uncle Aaron sat on that rooftop, sharing stories, laughter, and a love that could withstand even the most challenging of circumstances. In the heart of the city that never sleeps, this was a night to remember – a night that reminded Miles why he swung through the city, risking his life as the Prowler, because he had something worth fighting for, something worth protecting. And that something was you, his world.

It was another day, which meant another day of spoiling his girl. (Y/N) strolled through the bustling mall, her fingers interlaced with Miles'. The afternoon sun filtered through the large glass windows, casting a warm glow over the shoppers. Miles carried an array of designer shopping bags, each filled with luxurious items that he had picked out for her.

"You know you don't gotta buy me all these things, baby," (Y/N) said with a soft smile as she looked at the bags bearing the names Chanel and Balenciaga.

Miles grinned down at her, his eyes filled with affection. "I know, baby girl, but seeing your eyes light up when I get your pretty ass a gift just makes my day."

(Y/N) couldn't help but blush at his words. "That's so corny," she teased, though her heart swelled with warmth.

Miles chuckled, his deep voice resonating in the bustling mall. "Well, it's true, baby girl. Now, give a kiss."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully but leaned in and planted a sweet peck on his cheek. It was moments like these that made her realize how lucky she was to have Miles in her life.

“Naw baby girl, give daddy a real kiss.”

With a roll of your eyes again, you leaned forward and gave miles an another kiss on his check this time just inches away from his luscious plump lips.

Miles wasn’t having that though and pulled you forward once more by your throat, his grip firm but still gentle enough to not hurt you. Your lips met, and for a moment, the bustling mall around you faded into oblivion. It was just the two of you, lost in each other's affection.

As he pulled away, a mischievous glint in his eyes, he whispered, "Don't go rolling those eyes at me, babygirl, otherwise, I'll give you a reason to be rolling them."

You chuckled, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your lips. "You're impossible, Miles Morales."

He grinned, his love for you written all over his face as he continued to carry your shopping bags. "And you love me for it."

Hand in hand, you both continued your leisurely stroll through the mall, knowing that your love was the most precious gift of all, and the fancy bags filled with designer items were just a sweet bonus.

“Hurry your pretty ass up I wanna take you to get your nails done, it’ll go pretty with your next gifts.”

Miles and (Y/N) entered the nail salon nestled within the mall, the serene atmosphere a welcome contrast to the bustling shopping floors. Miles guided her to one of the plush salon chairs, and she settled in, eyeing the array of nail polish colors displayed before her.

"Go crazy, baby girl," Miles urged with a playful grin. His eyes danced with anticipation.

(Y/N) bit her lip, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Don't you think you've spent enough today?" she asked, her gaze shifting to the designer bags still in his grasp.

Miles leaned in closer, his voice low and filled with affection. "For you? Never."

With that, he called over one of the salon workers, who approached them with a warm smile. Miles wasted no time. "Give her the whole spa treatment. I'm talking massages, a full set on both her nails and feet, and include that gel set you ling lings always be trying to sell your clients. Touch up the brows, and if she wants, wax her, too. I want her pampered and happy by the end of her session."

(Y/N) looked at Miles with wide eyes, a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "Miles, stop it, that's too much and definitely rude," she protested, her cheeks flushing.

Miles waved her off, his eyes filled with adoration. "It’s true though! And nonsense, baby. You deserve it all. Now, enjoy yourself."

The salon worker nodded though offended at the long long comment they ain’t take it too personal, they’ve been called worse, and with one final nod they began to prepare for what promised to be a luxurious pampering session for (Y/N) or in their eyes the dark skinned fellow sugar baby. As she settled into the chair, her heart swelled with appreciation for Miles and the love he showered upon her. She couldn't help but smile as she realized just how lucky she was to have him in her life.

(Y/N) and Miles left the nail salon with her feeling like a queen after her pampering session. She couldn't stop admiring her perfectly manicured and xl full set of nails and her silky smooth skin. Miles had a way of making every moment special, and today was no exception.

As they strolled through the mall, they made their way to Footlocker, a store that always got Miles excited. He was a sneakerhead, and (Y/N) knew he couldn't resist the lure of fresh kicks.

Inside the store, the scent of new sneakers and the sight of rows upon rows of colorful shoeboxes greeted them. Miles was like a kid in a candy store, and (Y/N) couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"Baby, what are you feeling today?" Miles asked as they browsed the selection of sneakers.

(Y/N) considered the options and then spotted a pair of sleek white Nikes that caught her eye. "I think these would look great," she said, holding them up for Miles to see.

Miles nodded in agreement, a smile spreading across his face. "Good choice, baby girl. Let's grab those."

They each picked out a pair of matching Nikes, and then Miles, with his discerning eye for style, spotted a pair of limited edition Jordans on display. He knew he had to have them.

"Check these out," Miles said, beckoning (Y/N) over to admire the Jordans.

(Y/N) couldn't deny that they were impressive. "Those are fire," she admitted.

Miles decided without hesitation. "We're getting them."

After some time spent trying on shoes, making their selections, and chatting with the friendly staff, (Y/N) and Miles left Footlocker with matching Nikes and the limited edition Jordans in hand. The excitement of getting new kicks and the shared experience of picking them out together added to the bond they shared.

As they walked hand in hand through the mall once again, Miles couldn't help but glance at (Y/N) with a loving smile. Every moment spent with her was a cherished memory, and he was grateful for the happiness she brought into his life.

“Now onto your final surprise before I take your pretty ass to get some food.”

Miles and (Y/N) ventured further into the mall, their bags all held in the strong hands of miles morales. The next stop on their shopping adventure was Pandora, a store known for its elegant jewelry. Miles had a mischievous glint in his eye as he led her inside.

Once they were surrounded by displays of intricate bracelets and shimmering charms, Miles gently took (Y/N)'s hand. "How about a little something special from Pandora?" he suggested with a warm smile.

(Y/N) was both surprised and delighted by the idea. She nodded eagerly, her curiosity piqued. "Fine, let's see what they have. But I’m only agreeing because i know you’ll drag my ass in here anyways.”

Miles guided her to the charm bangle bracelets section. Each bracelet had a unique design, and the charms ranged from adorable animals to elegant gemstones. He handed her a bangle bracelet adorned with a star charm and said, "For our shared love of Star Wars."

(Y/N) grinned as she accepted the bracelet. "I love it."

Miles then picked out a few more charms, each with its own meaning and significance to their relationship. He selected a heart charm, a symbol of their love, a travel-themed charm for their shared adventures, and a pair of intertwined rings as a symbol of their commitment to one another.

With each addition, (Y/N) was touched by Miles' thoughtfulness. However, as he handed her the last charm, which looked strikingly like an engagement ring, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Miles, this one looks like an engagement ring," she commented, her voice laced with amusement.

Miles chuckled and winked at her. "Well, until we're a bit older, it's just a promise ring," he said, slipping it onto her finger. "One day, though."

(Y/N) blushed at his words, the promise of a future together warming her heart. She accepted the charm bracelet and the promise ring, feeling grateful for the love and dedication Miles poured into their relationship. As they left Pandora, hand in hand, she couldn't help but smile, knowing that their journey together was just beginning.

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