#armys love each and every one of you to the sun and back and to the sun again

[hotteoki]

it hasn’t even been a day and i already miss my tannies how am i gonna last till 2025

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Harem in Reverse

"You're soon to be 26, Your Royal Highness. You must put together your harem soon or risk being married off to whomever the regent chooses for you." You sigh, nodding in agreement. Choosing a direct husband would be against the rules, and frankly, you weren't interested in interviewing for the perfect man. Choosing many for their adherence to various qualities, though. That would be a good choice. "Shall I put forth a call for certain attributes? Strong arms? Large chest? Impressive intellect?"

"No, I want to review the troops this week. I will find my consorts among the best our nation has to offer." The advisor looks stunned.

"Your Royal Highness, those are rough men. They do not have the breeding or training to handle you gently as a consort should. They are-."

"Advisor Williams, I know what attributes I am looking for. Schedule me to review the best of the troops, then. If none catch my eye, then I will consider others." The advisor nods, frustrated at not being heeded, but knowing they must follow a direct order.

The following week, you are almost nervous while getting ready, the beginning of butterflies in your stomach. If you weren't so tired, you're sure it would be worse, but the night before was yet another attempt on your life. They are becoming more frequent and more violent now.

Sighing, you hurry to the courtyard where your mount, Rosebud, is waiting. A gift that you feel had been meant to be another threat on your life. The mount was no ordinary horse or pony. Instead, it was the largest draft mule you had ever seen. If you had treated him like a horse, you're sure the thing would have stomped within minutes. He was a vain creature who had to be sweet-talked and treated with utmost respect before he would agree to do much of anything. He was covered in whip and spur scars, telling anyone that he was difficult to force submission from, despite their best efforts. Not that you thought anyone could force an animal born of a mammoth jack donkey and a Shire horse to submit physically. You loved each and every scar, the signs of his stubborn nature on display for all to see.

"Hello, sweet boy." You greet him and let him snuffle you over, waving off the over eager stable hand. "May I ride you today? I am to inspect the troops." He blows a huff of air and turns his head away. You slide your hand along his proud neck and across his withers to the saddle. Checking it over, you deem it done well enough and climb on his back. Your legs spread wide across his broad barrel. Your advisors turn away, knowing that you will refuse their most strident pleas to ride sidesaddle.

"Let us inspect the troops." With that, the company is off at a quick walk to the parade grounds. Your group of advisors and the personal guard that you only marginally trust join the General and his entourage at the front of the formation. You strongly dislike the General. He is somehow the worst mix of ass kissing and condescending.

"The army is excited to be inspected this morning, Your Royal Highness." You barely manage to cover your snort. There is no way they are happy to be here standing in the sun to be inspected on your whim. You move from company to company, looking over the men and pointing out individuals to be inspected, but seeing none you would consider as consort. Reaching the special forces, the rabid dogs as your advisors refer to them, the General is incensed to see that the leader of one is missing.

"Where is the Captain? This is not an optional inspection!"

A man steps forward, "He was injured in a skirmish this week and is still confined to the hospital, General Argus." Looking over the group, you see several still sport bandages and healing abrasions. You nudge your mount closer, his ears perked forward in a match to your curiosity. The General apologizes to you for the disrespect of the men for not appearing but is cut off.

"Your Royal Highness. Escaping the hospital took longer than predicted. For that, I sincerely apologize." You turn, seeing a man limping toward the formation at a quick pace. This must be the Captain. As he falls in, you dismount your mule, resting your hand on his broad neck. Your personal guard hurriedly surrounds you, standing much too close. Rosebud takes exception to being crowded, ears flattening against his head. He strikes out like a snake. His teeth click just shy of the nearest man, who stumbles back yelling and unsheathes a sword. Without a thought, you draw your own ceremonial dagger.

"Touch one hair on Rosebud, and I will gut you." Everyone around you freezes before slowly backing away. "I will not be crowded by your incompetent forms when I am here to inspect the troops." They retreat from your anger, not wanting to risk you calling for their death. Rosebud drops his head, relaxing, and you absentmindedly rub his long ear the way he loves. His lip twitches and his eyes half close for a moment before he pulls away. You step forward, and Rosebud matches your pace, keeping his shoulder just behind yours. It took months to build up a relationship with him, and now he is putty in your hands most days.

An advisor tries to signal you to stay back, but you ignore them, your eyes on the men, looking for the best of them. You memorize the name of the Captain and another likely candidate, signaling Advisor Williams to your side. He groans but carefully walks to you, eyes locked on the increased alertness of Rosebud.

"I will have an audience with this Captain Price and Colonel König. As soon as the men are dismissed. In private." You walk forward and give a cursory inspection to the man who had spoken on the Captain's behalf. His uniform is impeccable, you are happy to see. You don't want them punished on your behalf. The smirk on his face beneath his mask sends a thrill through you. Another man who is not cowed by your station. That is important in advisors. Lieutenant Riley, his uniform says. You nod and mount Rosebud again, rejoining the pack of advisors to inspect the remaining troops. No others catch your eye.

Walking into your State room, you signal for everyone except the two soldiers to leave. While unusual, they are compelled to do so by your haughty glares and Advisor Williams guiding them away, barring the doors behind him and standing guard. Sitting in your throne, you drag your eyes over the men. Colonel König is wearing his customary face covering, and Captain Price has the cover he is well-known for in his hands.

"I have a proposal for you both that I want you to carefully consider. This proposal will not be spoken of again if you decline and it will not leave this room." The men perk up, and you see heat in their eyes as they consider one of the possibilities of your words. "I need advisors who are not advisors." That throws them off, and you see the Colonel shift uneasily. "These advisors would be the closest of any man or woman to me. They would teach and protect me with their very lives. My life is under threat and has been since the King and Queen died, my uncle taking over as Regent. I need advisors who will help me oust him and take my rightful place on the throne without contest and without raising his suspicions. Thus, I need men who will join my harem." You pause, savoring the way their faces change as they process this.

"Your Royal Highness, are you asking us to find you men to join your harem? That is most unusual, but we will do our best." You shake your head at Captain Price.

"Yes, but not in the way you are thinking. I am asking the two of you to join my harem and to advise me on the best men to round out such a harem. To be advisors and leaders in removing the despot from his fake throne. To be my lovers, spoiled in every way and to guard me from all attempts on my life. I want you both, and I trust you to choose others and to bring them to me for approval. If you decline this position, we shall never speak on it again."

"Yes, I would be honored to be chosen for your harem, Your Royal Highness." Colonel König does not hesitate to agree. He feels he has loved you from afar for years, and this is an opportunity he will not squander.

"I would be as well, Your Royal Highness." Captain Price is confident that declining now would be a mistake, and he is not a man prone to mistakes. "I have a few men in mind that would be good additions. They are a bit of a package deal." You nod, expecting as much.

"Their names?"

"John MacTavish, Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick, Your Royal Highness."

"I have two in mind that would be good choices as well. Hiro Watanabe and Kim Hong-jin. They are foreign, but good, loyal and strong men, Your Royal Highness."

The smile you bestow them with is almost a surprise to the men. "Then, I wish for you to gather your men and their belongings. You will join me tonight, my consorts."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness." The men bow and leave, stunned at the way this meeting has gone. You order Advisor Williams to prepare the harem quarters and pack your own belongings secretly. It would be folly to live apart from the men who will be your new private guard and you would be lying if you weren't excited to see under those perfectly done uniforms.

[tenebrous-if]

LINKS:

🜲 Play the Game

Estimated Release: N/A

🜲 FAQ

🜲 Pinterest

🜲 Character Descriptions

🜲 Family Descriptions

🜲 Map of Arvandor

🜲 Genre(s): Fantasy, Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, and Action/Adventure.

🜲 Rating: Tenebrous is an 18+ Fantasy IF set within the mythical world of Arvandor.

The Kingdom of Aetheria, within the world of Arvandor, is a nation ripe with history. King Lysander du Aetheria rose up and led the fledgling Aetherian Army against The Forsaken One— Herald of the Abyssal Uprising— and came out victorious when everyone else had failed. With his victory, Lysander placed Aetheria as one of the key pillars of keeping Arvandor safe; allowing for peace to reign over the continent for centuries.

Peace, however, was never meant to last.

The Order of Netheron, Followers of The Forsaken One, had captured you at the tender age of fifteen, holding you captive for a decade within a tower only labeled as “The Spire”. All due to their wish of resurrecting their fallen deity— something that they believe could only be accomplished by using the blood of King Lysander’s descendants; it was a ritual that didn’t go as planned— one that did bring back their deity, but only for your eyes and ears only; the both of you attached to the other in a way that probably wasn’t intended.

And that’s how you spent the last decade of your life… Growing used to the presence that now appears whenever the time calls for it. It isn’t until your twenty-fifth year that you’re finally found and taken back to Aetheria, to everything you had long thought you’d lost.

Your time in the sun, however, was short-lived as the tidings of an even darker uprising was beginning to grow— one that threatens to demolish everything and everyone.

Can you figure out how to save your home?

🜲 Create your Aetherian Royal:

Name/Nickname

Gender [Male, Female, or Non-Binary]

Appearance

Hobbies

Personality [Mainly involving unique reactions to certain situations— the MC is semi-set in some ways]

🜲 Romance 1 of 4 potential love interests— each offering their own unique experience within the story and how the world at large will react to the burgeoning relationship.

🜲 Bond with your family after being apart for so long. They have missed you a great deal. [The MC is a middle child.]

🜲 Harness the magic that flows through your veins due to the gift of your blood.

🜲 Choose from a variety of skill sets that your MC may be able to acquire. [Note: This means you can choose something to specialize in, instead of having to constantly choose between being a diplomat or warrior. You can instead choose to be a swordsman while also focusing on the art of diplomacy.]

🜲 Build a codex from the various interactions that you can have throughout your story— from places, to people, to old legends that have tested the passage of time within Arvandor.

Astorian/Astoria du Aerilon: The Heir to Aerilon, and the person that was your betrothed from the time you were seven until your disappearance. Astorian/Astoria spent every winter with you, and you every summer with them, in hopes that a union between the both of you would bring your countries together. You remember many things from that time of your life: their warm laugh, brazen attitude, arrogant smirk, and their inability to stay still for long. Meeting them again? It simply proves how much can change in a decade. [Can choose to have been in an almost relationship with them or still rivals.]

William/Wilhelmina du Arvandor: A recent addition to the Holy Order, who has an iron-clad need to help and be of assistance to anyone that may require it. Being a Paladin has been something they’ve strived towards for the last eight years of their life; training being second to nothing. It’s simply a mere coincidence, or the Divine’s Will, that their first major mission was to rid Arvandor of the last dregs of Netheron… A mission that brought them to The Spire, with a small band of warriors, to carry out that very task— wherein they find the Lost Heir of Aetheria. You.

Gabriel/Gabrielle Adair: Being renowned within the arcane arts, having achieved the rank of High Mage within the Aetherian Institute of Magic, it’s of little surprise that the royal family of Aetheria would call on someone with their skill set— if it weren’t for the scandal that still plagues them. You’re not sure what could have been so bad that would force them to retreat within themself like they have, especially if your parents had seen them fit enough to tutor you, but it’s obviously something that weighs heavily upon them. Will it be possible to wrangle out the secrets of their past when you’re still trying to figure out your own gift?

Ilyran/Ilyria Caelestis: The Forsaken One, an individual that’s visible only to your eyes from a ritual gone wrong. There isn’t much you can glean from them, after all you can only take what they say with a grain of salt, but the shadows that lurk within their eyes has nothing to do with the darkness that now lives within them. It’s hard sometimes to look at what they’ve become when you’ve seen what they were in Old Texts, when they weren’t the Forsaken One, weren’t the Divine’s Disgrace… When they were simply Ilyran/Ilyria Caelestis, High Priest/Priestess of the Holy Order.

[idwt-money]

I See Through You.

MDNI 18+

3.2k words

Satan!Noah sebastian x Lost soul!Y/n

Christian/Religious themes, Satanic themes, Corruption kink, Mentions of death, Wax play, Oral sex (male and fem rec), Unprotected sex, Squirting, Dirty talk, Mentions of breeding kink

“The Devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel, and he used to be God's favorite.”

—

Noah's pov.

Fuck. It should be ME. I'm the fucking king.

—

Third person's pov.

He had been banished from the holy scene. His mind had been corrupted. He was God's favorite. The closest thing to becoming a god he would have ever gotten. Until…

His mind would run amuck at night. After the sun had set on the sacred land, laying in bed with his brethren just rooms away.

Day after day he had gotten sick of bowing down for the divinity. Growing like a disease. Growing and rooting itself deep within his bones, the veins that allowed his suborn blood to flow. Spreading deepest in the soul his God had granted him eternal life with.

Submitting himself to his almighty had become a tiring, weakening agenda. His hunger for power burned deep within his mind.

His position as the anointed cherub no longer satisfied his starvation for authority.

His attempt at dethroning God led him to be thrown, tossed, banished from the pearly gates every mortal soul had prayed to enter.

—

One of his now ex-brethren, bestowed a script to him. Curled together like an ancient pirate's map. On the scroll before him was one final message to the unholy individual from the Lord.

“Oh, my poor Samael. Where had I gone wrong? Pride, greed, envy. For how could you let them engulf your intelligence? To cause such rebellion? You, a lost soul, can no longer hold a position in my holy land.”

As he finished the script, he felt his soul burn and shrivel into complete nothingness. Nothing but a black void leaving him falling out of the sacred heaven he yearned to be the king of.

Falling through each layer of the Earth, he could feel his skin burning and aching as he did so. He landed in an unbeknownst hole, passing out on impact with rubble and dust falling upon him. On that cursed day, the eternal fire was born.

—

If you are cast out, what's your next move going to be? Will you return cold? Or will you turn up the heat?

Last thing I sold them, had been my dignity. But, the truth is the devil sold his soul to me.

To me.

To ME.

—

Noah's pov.

I had awoken in a displaced land. A funnel shaped cavern. Aggression and insanity ran cold through my veins. An inferno I was placed in.

If I wouldn't have an opportunity to rule the heavenly kingdom, I shall make my own. For lost souls, for sinners and those of who act upon blasphemy. For those who will not succumb to God. I will be the king of the mountain of purgatory.

For I will create a kingdom, not as its jailer, but as its healer. I will heal every soul that is not worthy of being in heaven. I will create an army, one so powerful that it can take down God and his disciples.

—

Third person's pov.

Noah, as he had renamed himself, had spent years stacked upon years building and crafting his domain. A safe place to heal broken souls that were undeserving of heaven.

He had now accumulated centuries worth of individuals who lost their spot in the promised land. They were all dependent on him as their ruler, their king.

He had rediscovered himself. He no longer was a spirit of God, rather the opposite.

He no longer had soft, white, pure feathered wings. Instead his back was adorned with a set of deep black wings. They were covered with coarse fur, rough to the touch. His once dark honey colored eyes were now pitch black. He had grown fangs that looked perfect to sink into a soft, flawless neck.

He had all he could ever imagine…except a love to sit beside his throne, to rule his domain with him.

His heart desired and thirsted for a true love. Although he had millions of souls in his kingdom, he hadn't met a single one that could give him what he needed.

They were all too much like him. He wanted someone he had coax upon him. Someone he could play a game with.

He hadn't taken a leave of absence since the day he decided to create his own space. Maybe it was time to change that. A trip to the mortal world.

—

Y/n's pov.

I sat upon a bench in the midst of a forest, taking in a deep breath of the midnight cool air. I had no place to go.

Parts of my soul, broken and seemingly unfixable. I was cursed to spend my days roaming the Earth as nothing but lonesome in my own purgatory. I would spend my day and night praying, atoning for my sins. Seemingly little, insignificant sins to anyone else were the reason I was stuck in this temporary state.

My Lord had promised if I could atone for my sins, I would be allowed into the promised land. I wanted nothing more, but my Earthborn body had long turned to dust, my hope slowly diminishing.

—

If God came down from his kingdom, he came down from his throne and we asked him if he'd take us back, he would surely tell us no.

We live and die in vain like treasure on a sinking ship. All in the name of a God we'd just abandoned and forget.

—

Third person's pov.

He had his eyes set on her. A lost soul, set in purgatory. Oh, how easy it would be to convince her to bestow her gift upon him.

She seemed perfect. Her skin having a soft glow to it. He knew if an Earth bound body could see her, they too would fall in love with the sight. Her glow gave off as a blue-ish tone, telling him all he needed to know.

As he moved through the trees, he watched as her panic became prominent.

“No one knows I'm here…unless?”

A small glimmer of hope shone through her sadness at the idea that her Lord had finally decided she was able to step foot into the holy divinity.

Her blood ran cold as a jagged finger ran across her skin.

She was so soft, the panic in her eyes set his body on flames. Her pure mind was one he could imagine 100 different ways to ruin.

—

Noah's pov.

“What are you doing out here by yourself, angel?” My voice came out rough and coarse, while hers was much flowy, softer than mine could ever be.

I took a stand of her hair, taking in her delicious scent.

“Wh-wha-! Who are you!?” Her chest was rising and falling like a scared little bunny, her eyes darting back and forth across my features.

“I know you've heard of me. The Prince of Darkness, Beelzebub, Lord of Flies, The Antichrist. Baby, I'm you're one and only-” I was cut off, her screech throwing her into a fit of madness.

“THE DEVIL!?” Her cry must have been heard for miles, to any other lost soul or angel that was Earthbound at the moment.

I pulled her to my chest, covering her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up. I'm here to make a deal.”

A deal with the Devil.

“I see through you, angel. I know exactly what you are. A lost soul, hoping to atone for your sins. Am I close?” I spoke my words slowly and calmly, not needing a miscommunication.

Her head weakly nodded against my heaving chest.

“I'm going to take my hand away, and you're going to let me talk. Do you understand?”

Another nod was given.

Removing my hand oh so cautiously, I let her sit back down, holding my finger up to my mouth, indicating she needed to be quiet.

“He won't let you in there, baby.”

“You don't know that.” Her words flew out of her mouth, cold and harsh.

“Oh, but I do.” My index finger softly gliding down her cheek. She must have been previously crying.

“I was his favorite, you know? I had more power than any other angel. I was second below God himself.” My hands now placed behind my back as I paced back and forth. I didn't miss the way she watched me like a hawk.

“I wanted more. I needed more. He was far too greedy. He casted me out, sending me falling through Earth's layers, down into the deepest parts of the plane. His sacred, holy land was too much to bear. So, I created my own. My own kingdom.” I watched the starry night sky, all the stars twinkling as I explained my story.

Looking down at her, her face was painted with many emotions. Confusion, anger. I smirked to myself, knowing I had her questioning the almighty spirit.

“B-but God is…is good. He's purity and kindness.”

I scoffed.

“Come with me, my sweet angel. Rule with me. You will have power and you can be your own divinity. I can give you everything he could and more.” I whispered the last part into her ear, letting myself smile against her skin.

“Why…why are you beautiful? I thought-”

“Thought I was red? With horns and an outdated tail?” My eyebrows furrowed together as I spoke.

—

I see through you, I know what you are. I see the devil more than I see God.

—

Y/n's pov.

He was beautiful. Gorgeously put together, with a black suit, dress shoes and tattoos staining his skin. He was so enticing.

My head was dizzy and I could feel my core slowly weakening. This was absolute insanity.

I had no idea why I felt the need to say yes to his offer. His words were smooth like fresh honey floating through my ears.

Although tempting, I had to be strong. He could be lying. I had read the bible 5 times before passing to know this is what he does.

He's seducing, he tempts your faith, your religion. He gets in your head. He tempts you with bad decisions. He had powers beyond man. He was the reason Eve sunk her teeth into the forbidden fruit. He was the snake that left hissing in your ears after you had committed a sin.

“Come with me, I can make all your dreams come true, little one. I can make you belong.”

Belong? Your soul ached and yearned to belong somewhere.

“You can give in to your sins, free of guilt. Free of shame. No worries of fear of punishment.” He made a tempting debate.

Is this what you wanted for yourself?

“He'll leave you alone, you won't see him like you'll see me. Is that what you would like? He'll send messengers to talk through. You won't catch even a glimpse of him.”

I couldn't stand the thought. My mouth spoke before my brain could speak.

“Okay. I'll come with you.”

—

Third person's pov.

A sinister smile spread across his lips.

“This will hurt a little.” He muttered as he tilted her head to the side. He sunk his teeth into her neck, covering her mouth as to muffle her cries. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he felt their minds morphing into one.

Giving her a mark. A mark to tell everyone how easily he had corrupted her mind. How she was now his.

Noah pulled away, licking away the blood that resided on his lips.

As for Y/n, she felt her body burn hot. Aching pain spread through her body, her soft blue glow now turning orange.

She watched as he cleaned up the mess, licking the blood away on her neck.

“Oh, my sweet angel. You've made the right decision.”

—

As the pair now made their way into the kingdom, innumerable souls congratulated their king on his new found love.

They soon after found themselves in the Devil's bedroom. She hadn't taken Satan for one to sleep much.

“It isn't for sleeping, I promise that, baby.” He chuckled at his own comment.

As soon as she took a spot on the bed, covered in soft, red sheets, he was attacking her lips.

—

Y/n's pov.

You weren't complaining. He had promised you an eternal life, free of guilt. What would be the point in worrying about it now.

You let his lips venture your body, his fangs gliding across your skin every once in a while.

He had started leaving purple marks across your neck, close to the freshly marked wound he had given you previously. A way to say you were his.

“Oh, fuck. Baby, I'm going to corrupt your precious little mind. Fill it full with sinful thoughts about me.”

He took your hand, moving it down his shirt, down to where his cock was painfully straining against his pants.

It caused you to ache beneath your own. Your mind went dizzy with the thought of him. He was gorgeous and was about to give you everything you could ever want.

You had taken some initiative and unzipped his pants while he took his tie off, throwing it somewhere unbeknownst to you. He undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt and you, quite frankly, gawked over his body.

He was toned. He had tattoos littering his skin everywhere. His dark eyes watched as you took a long once over of his body.

“Fuck, you're beautiful. Truly.” Your words were quiet, seemingly scared that God would somehow hear or see the activities the two of you were getting up to.

“As are you. You'll be perfect at my side. For the rest of forever.” His hand caressed your face. He did truly find you breathtaking.

Your big doe eyes were something he could find himself staring into forever.

You were now something the holy trinity could never take away from him.

You pulled his pants down, causing his cock to be set free. Something roared in you.

You licked your lips before devouring him.

You swallowed his cock, slowly taking more each time your head bobbed up and down. Soon, he was reaching the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him.

His hands were placed at either side of your hand, using it as leverage to fuck into your throat. You took it so well that he could lose himself in your touch. The way your arms were wrapped around his thighs, helping him go deeper into your throat made him weak and want to crumble.

You felt your cunt wetten for him. The sight of his hair falling out of place and his chest heaving through your teary eyes made you need him. You wanted him to enter your temple and destroy it.

His thrusts became sloppy, faltering here and there. You pulled away from his cock, muttering filthy sins as you stroked him.

“Let me taste you. Give it to me, baby.”

You were forced down onto him once more as he let his seed spray down your throat. Letting it coat your insides felt like bliss.

It was mere seconds before he led you to lay on your back. His hands were clawing and scraping against you, in such need and hurry to remove you of your clothes.

The second your panties hit the floor Noah was nose deep in your pussy, taking in your taste and smell.

Your eyes rolled back as your mouth was left gaped. A hand flew into his hair, pulling and tugging at it, causing his once perfect hair to now be disheveled.

“Oh- oh fuck-” You gasped as he licked and slurped along your clit. No man had ever pleased you as Noah was right now.

He wasn't a man. He was a fucking demon.

His middle and ring finger slid across your wetness before plunging into you.

Something in Noah felt like this is what he had been waiting for. This is what he was made for. He was made for you.

His fingers quickly found the right way to please you. The calloused pads of his fingers rubbing the right spot.

You bit your bottom lip and he somehow knew you were close to toppling over the edge.

“Do it. Let yourself go. Let yourself be mine.” His voice came out as a growl against your cunt as his fingers quickened.

“No- I can't I'm gonna-” You couldn't finish your sentence before your orgasm took over your mind.

Your orgasm left a mess everywhere. You hadn't known until you heard the wet sloshes against Noah's palm.

“Oh my- I've never done that before. How-how did you…?”

“Done what? Squirt? Fuck, angel. I'm Satan himself. Did you doubt me?” He had an shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Shut the hell up and fuck me.” Something took over you, all you could think about was his cock ramming into you. Destroying every thought you'd ever had of God and those “precious” pearly white gates.

“Look at you, mere moments ago you were trembling with fear. Now you're begging for my fucking cock.” He chuckled and crawled up your body, kissing and licking at your skin.

It didn't take long for him to position your legs over his shoulders, feeling his cock stretch you out as he entered you.

“Your body is a temple. And I'm here to fucking destroy it. I'm here to get in your pretty little head. Corrupt those holy thoughts with distasteful, nasty, sinful thoughts.” His words were venom digging into your brain, making your mind their home.

His thrusts were becoming faster, now that your pussy had gotten used to his size.

He had grabbed a candle that was permanently lit by his bed and watched the wax drip onto your skin. You hissed as each droplet made its spot on your skin.

Slowly but surely, Noah had made an upside down cross upon your stomach. You couldn't care for the dull burn the wax drips had left as they dried.

You could feel Noah's cock pushing its way into your fucking stomach. He was so inhumanly big, you almost forgot where you were and who you were getting fucked by.

Once the wax had set, you pulled Noah into you, clawing your nails deep into his skin. He growled over the feeling of your nails making dents so deep into his immoral skin.

Before you knew it, Noah's shoulders were bleeding and you were both merging into one.

“Noah, please, please harder!” Your words were barely decipherable as your second orgasm was approaching.

“Now. Give it to me now.” His words were enough to send you into a spiral.

As you had your own orgasm, Noah shot hot strings of seed deep into your womb.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna put a baby here one day.” Noah said as he rubbed your stomach.

He took the blood from his bruised shoulder onto his thumb, placing it onto your tongue.

"Forever, we are one."

He finally had a respective queen to be by his side for the rest of eternity.

—

Woke up in the light convinced my life had made it to its end. Burning up beneath the sun, while my father drained of blood.

If he's there, I've got a message for the man that's up above.

Fuck. You.

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[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 4

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 5438 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

Dick stood on the pure white sands of Themyscira, though he did not recall how he got there. But he could not mistake the marble columns and houses higher up the mountain side, nor the crystal blue waters with the odd looking fish swimming. Without ever stepping on the great island before, Dick knew.

It felt like home.

Once Dick realised where he was, he realised another thing. He was alone. Where is everyone? he thought, deciding to walk along the beach in search of someone, anyone.

'Hello?' he called loudly, but the stone walls of the mountainside just echoed his voice back at him. And there were no stairs leading off the beach that he could find. He was truly alone.

Dick stopped when he realised it, accepted it. Devastation threatened to swallow him as the white sand did his feet. The ocean waves lapping the shore quieted for a moment, giving space for laughter and music to dance in their place.

Dick looked longingly up at the buildings on the mountainside. A childish want to join the party overtook him, and his mood soured even more, feeling left out of something huge.

'Nightwing.'

The call of his name cut through all other sounds, silencing the rest of the world so Dick could focus on the source of the call. He swivelled, hope pumping from his heart to the rest of his body, to find the most gorgeous of women standing before him. Only - her face was obscured so he could not make out her exact features.

'Nightwing.' Her voice was like smooth velvet, like soft thunder rumbling his name into the electric air.

'Y-Yes?' Dick wasn't sure how this woman knew his vigilante name. He wasn't in his Nightwing attire, just civvies.

The woman started walking towards him in answer. With each slow, deliberate step she took, her image changed before Dick's eyes. She started off muscular, then grew curves, then was small and petite, then grew to stand taller than Dick himself. One moment she was childish and youthful, the next a frail and wrinkled elderly lady.

Her hair changed colour and texture and style too, as did her skin - as if the light of the sun from different angles highlighted everything this woman was, and what she could be.

She remained faceless all the while, for not just one woman could be every woman all at once and have the same face, the same history.

But by the time she stood before him, she'd shrunk to just under his eyes, her hair morphed and her skin changed shades again until the woman started to look familiar.

Still faceless, the woman reached a hand up behind Dick's neck and brought him down so she could whisper in his ear. 'Wake up.'

'What?' He didn't understand. He was awake - wasn't he? But more importantly, why did the woman sound like Y/N?

'Nightwing.' Now that she was talking right into his ear, her voice was clear as day. 'Wake. Up.'

~~~

Dick's eyes flew open as he gasped, as if he'd been holding his breath for too long. He blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness flooding his vision. He quickly realised it was nightfall, and he was staring up at the night sky through a circular hole in the ceiling.

He sat up quickly and realised that was a mistake, as a throbbing pain pounded in his right temple. He hissed as he laid back down, gently brushing his fingers against the sizeable egg that had formed above the injury.

He was briefly distracted as someone removed his hand from his temple, and placed a cool cloth in his hand, then pressed it back on the source of his pain. Dick released a relieved sigh as the coolness eased the throbbing slightly.

'Thank you,' he half said, half whispered, tilting his head to the left to see his saviour.

The only light that filled the room were bowls of fire situated atop pillars all around the circular room. There was a slight breeze, making their flames dance and cast a myriad of shadows around the room. But from what Dick could make out, there were other beds like the one he was situated on - ones of stone, pillows and fabrics - and a table of instruments and tools beside each one.

He didn't recognise the place, which had him searching the face of the person at his bedside more earnestly, wanting answers. But he was not met with the gentle smile nor the soothing voice of an angel.

Instead, he made eye contact with a very stoic and silent Y/N, her bright (e/c) eyes cold and unfeeling. Not even the firelight could cast a flicker of warmth on the expression she looked down at Dick with.

'Y/N,' he groaned, trying to sit up.

'You shouldn't do that,' she said, and her voice was just as stoic and monotone. 'You were hit... quite hard.'

Dick ignored her and pulled himself into a seated position so his back pressed against the back wall. He was relieved to find he was still in his civvies from when he arrived on the island.

'You mean you hit me quite hard,' he countered, pressing the cloth once more to his temple with a slight hiss. 'Not the kind of welcome I was thinking of...'

'Well I certainly hope you didn't expect a big parade or fireworks in your name,' Y/N bit back, keeping her voice low and contained, something she never used to do before. 'Besides, Themyscira doesn't usually get visitors. let alone male ones.'

'In that case, I'm sorry to... disappoint?' Dick wasn't sure what to say. This was a far cry from how he imagined seeing Y/N again.

'A bit too late to be apologising now, isn't it?' Y/N asked, and Dick couldn't help but feel she was indicating to something else. But before he could answer, she continued, stoically, 'Don't worry about it now. Rest up. The Queen wants to speak with you as soon as you wake up. And believe me when I say she is not so easily charmed as other women.'

Dick's heart thumped faster with confusion and fear. This was all going so wrong. Where were the hugs, or even the slaps to the face and the screaming? Anything but this... coldness.

Just as Y/N was walking to the doors of the infirmary, Dick called out to her. 'Hey, wait.'

To his surprise, Y/N did stop, though she only gave him a slight turn of her head so she looked over her shoulder at him. He didn't care. He would take anything. 'It's good to see you.'

Y/N didn't respond straight away, but when she did, Dick questioned whether or not he should've listened to his friends' warnings.

'A sentiment that, I must say, is not shared,' she replied coldly, then proceeded to walk out of the room, giant wooden doors clanging shut after she left.

Dick suddenly became unaware of his throbbing temple as he stared at the doors where Y/N just was. Instead, he became increasingly aware of the twisted feeling growing in his stomach.

He wasn't sure what it was, but it kept him up until the early hours before sunrise, into which he had three hours of dreamless sleep before some women in white robes and pinned or braided back hair woke him up.

They greeted him with gentle smiles and soothing voices, checking he was all right before they prepped him for his chat with the Queen. Any other occasion he would've tried to charm the beautiful women who did not praise him, but treated him with an innocent kindness that he imagined they treated any and all with.

But he still felt as if he was going to throw up, and his mind was preoccupied by the startling image of Y/N's cold, unfeeling eyes staring back at him the previous night. She'd never looked at him that way before. Similar to M'gann, Dick wasn't even sure Y/N was capable of such indifference.

And yet, she'd looked at him just that way, and it stung more than any injury he could imagine.

He'd been allowed to wash and dry himself, and put his dirty civvies of jeans, boots, white t-shirt, and black bomber jacket back on. Then the women sat him in front of a mirror and combed his dark hair, tidying him up one final time before a guard of six strong women came to collect him from the infirmary.

The six women flanked him as they led Dick through the palace made of white marble. If it weren't for the rich colours in the rugs and the wall dressings, the place would be as cold as the sea water lapping the shoreline. Women of different sizes, skin colours, and ages milled about the palace, each of them greeting the guards warmly before looking curiously and even fearfully at Dick as they walked by.

Dick did not let their looks distract him from the real worry ahead of him, though.

Soon enough, the guards and Dick reached a giant set of doors with gold intricately painted over the door and on the archway around it. The front two guards stepped up to open the doors, and stepped aside to allow the rest of the party to enter a spacious room.

Actually, a room wasn't the accurate description for it. There was a ceiling and a floor, but the walls constituted of a few pillars holding the ceiling above the floor, allowing a stroking view of the rest of Themyscira to surround anyone in the room. From the city just below, to the mountainside further along, and then the sand and ocean at the bottom.

Every aspect of Themyscira could be witnessed from what Dick assumed was the throne room, for at the far side of the room was a simple but intimidating throne made of marble, intricately designed to have vines and fruit pop out along the arm rests, and swords and shields to support the back of the throne. Only two people occupied the room other than Dick and the six guards: Y/N - who stood beside the throne in the same leather uniform as the other guards, sword strapped to her hip - and a regal looking women with with ebony hair that billowed out behind and over her white cladded shoulders.

Grey streaks striped through her hair, and Dick could make out a few smile wrinkles on her forehead from where he stood. She wore a white cloth that wrapped around her body as she sat on the throne, pinched by a golden belt that matched the golden leaf crown holding back her hair from her face.

Though she sat down and looked smaller than Dick, she radiated a power that he even recognised to be respected. As the soon as the doors closed, the six guards kneeled to the floor and placed one arm over the chest as they bowed their heads.

'Our Queen,' the said in unison, and suddenly Dick felt very self-conscious as he looked around at the women then looked up at the Queen herself made eye contact with him.

Dick looked around at the women kneeling before their queen. Either he was hit harder in the head than he thought and he could somehow understand Greek suddenly, or they somehow knew English this whole time.

Either way, Dick rushed into a flimsy kneeling position. 'Y-Your Majesty,' he stuttered, hiding his cringe as he kneeled. The first time you meet a queen and you stutter? Good work Grayson, he internally berated.

The Queen offered a kind but hard smile. 'Please, rise, young man. Any friend of my granddaughter is a welcomed guest here on Themyscira.'

Dick's eyes widened, looking to Y/N for confirmation. 'Granddaughter? So... So that would make Y/N-'

'A princess of Themyscira,' Y/N answered monotone. 'But I can assure you, Nightwing, that I do not consider myself exempt from work because of the newfound title. I believe in strong connections, on working with others and creating a strong unit with which to fight alongside.'

Y/N looked directly at Dick, her eyes piercing his as if asking a silent question. What about you? Do you believe in the same?

Dick didn't know why he felt slightly ashamed, but he did, and feeling a great need to be rid of such a compressive feeling, he stood upright once more and addressed the Queen directly. 'I was informed by your Princess that you wanted to speak with me, Your Majesty.' Dick dialled up the charm - opened his arms in offer, and let a loose and charming smile curl his lips upward. 'I am yours to question.'

But the Queen only offered a half-smile in return, amusement never quite reaching her eyes like Dick was used to when charming other women.

'How... noble of you to think you are helping us out,' the Queen said, arms resting peacefully on the throne's armrests, but her eyes locked Dick to the ground with their intensity and fire. 'But let me make one thing clear. You are our guest because I deem it so. I'm sure you are well aware that our island isn't meant for man or mere mortals. You are not meant to be here, so it would be wise of you not to take our hospitality for absolute fondness or security.'

While always the usual jokester, Dick had always understood from a young age when someone was being serious with him. And especially when he wasn't the one in power in a situation such as this.

Dick nodded his head solemnly, and mustered up his most serious expression and voice to express his sincerity. 'Of course, Your Majesty. How can I help you?'

'Well, to begin with,' she said, pleased with his new compliant demeanour, 'you can start by telling us how you found Themyscira.'

'Through old sailing legends and odd encounters fisherman have had in this area,' Dick answered, briefly looking at Y/N as he continued. 'My friends and I collaborated and researched and came to the conclusion that this area - an area which has no volcanic or underwater mapping of any kind - would be my best bet at finding the island. That, and some reporting of odd-looking fish.'

Dick couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous he sounded. 'I'll admit that was a stretch, but one of my friends comes from the sea himself. I trust his judgement on all things sea-related.'

The Queen nodded her head thoughtfully, and Dick wondered if she was impressed by his deduction. 'But if others have been swayed for hundreds and thousands of years by our defences, how come you were not?'

Dick went to answer but quickly stopped himself. Blinked once. Twice. It was a good question.

'I-I don't know, Your Majesty,' he admitted. 'All I know is that, one moment I was talking with Alfred - a guardian of sorts, but he's pretty much family - and then I hit something invisible, twice actually, and my line to him was cut.

His gaze flickered between her and Y/N, who looked at him with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. 'We were discussing your Princess, actually. We were just hoping she'd be out here, that's all.'

'Is that why you've come, then?' the Queen asked. 'To speak to my granddaughter.'

'Well, not just speak, Your Majesty,' Dick said. 'I wanted to recruit her for a mission back home.' He spoke directly to Y/N then, eyes locking. 'We could really use your help. I could really use your help, Y/N.'

One of the guards beside him raised her spear to point at his neck. The tip of the blade was a hair's breadth away from his bobbing Adam's apple.

'How dare you talk to our Princess directly,' she growled. 'Show some respect.'

Y/N raised a hand up. 'Easy, Calliope,' Y/N said with a soft but commanding voice that resonated like a melody through the room. The guard - Calliope - looked long and hard at Dick until she eventually returned to her post beside him, quiet and still.

Dick allowed himself a steadying breath. How many times can I be almost killed in the shortest span of time? he asked himself, before looking back to Y/N.

'If talk is what you want, Nightwing,' Y/N said for the whole room to hear, 'then talk is all you shall get. But if you intend to take me back with you, then I am afraid your breath will be wasted on words I will not hear.'

'But, Y/N, you don't even know what I am going to say,' Dick objected, disbelieving that Y/N Prince - Wonderess, his best friend for nearly a decade, the one person he always thought would be there when he needed her - was looking down at him now with no warmth, no familiarity, no room for hope and belief.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, perhaps berate him and shun him more, but the Queen interrupted. 'He has a point, dearest,' she said, and gracefully rose from her throne.

Immediately, a guard was there helping her down the few steps from the dais that held the throne. Now that she was standing, Dick saw how her robes drowned her, and imagined how frail she was underneath it all. She spoke and appeared strong, but obviously immortality had its limits. Even the strong had to age at one point.

'We shall leave you and our guest to discuss your... personal matters,' the Queen explained further, looking between Dick and Y/N with scrutinising eyes. But she was quickly hurried out of the throne room, leaving Dick and Y/N alone together for the first time in two years.

Dick hated the silence that seemed to suffocate them, but he couldn't find the words to breathe new air into the space. So he just looked at her. She was both entirely the same and entirely different at the same time. She'd gained more muscle in her arms and legs, her face had sharpened with maturity but not to the point she looked harsh. She looked fierce, and the leather skirt, sandals, and plated armour top alongside her sword certainly added to that effect.

Dick had always found her fierce, the most fierce out of their entire team when they first formed. It had sometimes just got lost when she laughed, when she smiled, when she didn't know modern world slang because her mother never knew either.

But she wasn't smiling now, nor laughing. Now, she stood before Dick, the picture-perfect warrior, as if she was born to be as such.

As if it were her destiny.

'So...' Dick started, hoping Y/N would set the ball rolling.

'So,' she echoed back, her tone unamused and bored.

'So...' Dick found himself repeating, then realised she was never going to continue, so he did. 'There is a huge problem with the illegal trade of meta-humans and meta-human testing globally-'

'I am aware, I was fighting it when I was still with the team,' Y/N interrupted, her words unfazed, unfeeling almost.

Dick internally winced at his mistake. 'Of course you were, sorry. So anyways, there is this royal family who-'

'I don't care to hear about your problem, Nightwing,' Y/N cut in again, this time with annoyance and anger threatening to sharpen her words. 'Nor do I care that you infiltrated our island, crashed on our beaches, and waltzed into my people's home with swagger and self righteousness.'

Now Dick was getting annoyed. 'Stop calling me Nightwing, Y/N. You know my name, and I'm not even in uniform right now-'

'You've waltzed into my home,' Y/N interrupted, and finally, a spark of ire igniting in her previously cold e/c eyes, 'and have demanded I help you, when you couldn't even spare me one word over the past two years.'

Suddenly sheepish, Dick didn't know how to respond. Y/N finally stepped down from the dais and walked over to him. She only stopped when she was two steps away from him, and he could see it then, how she was straining against something internally. It was in her tight jaw - clenching and unclenching - and it was in her stiff posture.

'We might've been friends when you left,' she said softly, heatedly, 'but I found a new purpose, a new family - one that will never abandon me when times get tough or when I need them.' Y/N looked Dick up and down, then took a half step towards him so he could feel her breath. 'If you expected me to sit around waiting for you to come back like some lost puppy, you never knew me at all.'

Dick swallowed thickly as he kept eye contact with her. 'We were more than just friends,' he said softly, causing her angry facade to drop for a moment in confusion. 'We were best friends, Y/N, and I am sorry. For everything that I didn't do these past two years.'

The anger returned, and Y/N just pushed past him, knocking his shoulder hard in the process as she strutted towards the doors to exit. 'Best friends or not, sorry doesn't make up for your ignorance, Nightwing. Nor does it endear me to want to help you anymore than when you did when you entered this room.'

'Please, Y/N,' Dick said, racing after her and clasping his fingers around her wrist. He winced at how she tensed at his touched, but continued. 'I know I messed up. Believe me, everyone made me more than aware of it before I came here. But however you felt about me, I knew I had to come see you. Try and get you to come home.'

Y/N flung around with furious eyes, her h/l, h/c hair flinging as she did. 'This is my home,' she said with absolute resolve and conviction. 'This is my home, and by sundown tomorrow, you will be on a boat headed back to Gotham City or wherever you call home these days, and out of my life. For good.'

Dick's heart cracked at the insinuation. Had he really done this to her? His precious Y/N - kindhearted, welcoming, fun-loving, protective Y/N. Was he the reason for such coldness, such animosity?

'But, Y/N, the team-'

'The team were the ones who encouraged me to leave,' she answered. 'They saw I was meant for something more than just silly little missions that got us nowhere. They saw how much I'd given to the team, and saw I needed to go find myself again. They saw, because they were there.'

Y/N ripped her wrist away from Dick's reach. 'I am not some girl you can charm into thinking she is special and wanted. I know I am, and I know my place is here, with people who actually care about me. So do me and everyone on the island a favour and stay in the infirmary until your departure where you can't lie and hurt anyone ever again.'

Before he could reach out again - he wasn't sure what he'd say if he got her to stop anyways - she was opening the doors and slamming them shut again, leaving Dick alone in the throne room, the crashing of waves and the rush of wind the only sounds to be heard.

Dick stood looking at the door for a little while longer, the image of Y/N's hurt and angry eyes imprinted in his brain. He'd been warned, boy had he been warned. By Kaldur, Connor, M'gann. But he never could've expected Y/N to be so... hostile.

Are you really doing this for Y/N's sake, or for yours?

Connor's question echoed in his head as turned his attention to the ocean that lay outside of the room. Maybe he was right, Dick thought. Maybe this was all a big mistake. The biggest indicator had been in her eyes. She'd never looked at him, let alone anyone, like that before. Like she'd rather be anywhere in the world than be in the same room as him.

You're my best friend...

He raised his little finger to the door, though he was sure she was long gone. 'Alway have been,' Dick whispered, and some inner hope of his was waiting for Y/N to come back and finish their vow.

But she never did, and so he dropped his hand entirely.

After some time, his party of guards from before came back in to collect him and take him back to the infirmary. Feeling deflated and having no other reason to be there, he silently complied.

~~~

Y/N slammed the doors to the throne room so loud she was sure the whole island heard them.

She let out a controlled but shaky breath as tears threatened to burst from her eyes. Thank Athena Y/N escaped when she did, or she wasn't sure how much more slander she could throw at Dick.

She'd decided as soon as she saw him at the training field that she wanted nothing to do with him. That the best way to handle him was to give him no room to charm, to speak, to be his usual self and get under her skin. So she'd knocked him unconscious, been curt and unfeeling with him, denied him passage to her mind again.

She'd convinced herself that Dick Grayson was nothing more than a lying, self-centred and self-righteous boy - and yet she found her hands yearning to embrace him, her eyes wanting to inspect him and note all his changes, and her heart yearning for the unconditional love she knew Dick to be capable of.

'Princess?'

Y/N jumped at the call of her title, but when she noticed it was only Calliope, she relaxed. 'Yes, Calliope, what is it?'

'Queen Hippolyta would like to see you in her personal chambers.'

Y/N nodded. 'Of course, thank you.'

She quickly made her way to her grandmother's personal chambers. The first half of the chambers doubled as a meeting place on more than one occasion for Y/N and her grandmother, usually preferring to discuss important matters in the comfort of lounge chairs as opposed to stiff and cold meeting rooms made of stone.

Y/N entered the Queen's chambers, walking into an open floor-plan lounge and foyer entrance, with lounges and chairs draped in fine and rich velvets and satins. Attached to the lounge was a big balcony overlooking the city of Themyscira.

She found her grandmother leaning against the balcony's edge, looking over the island, when she walked out to join her.

Y/N braced for her grandmother's first words. Would they be harsh? Would they be enraged? Disappointed even? But they didn't come initially, and Y/N welcomed the peace that came with the silence. She looked over the balcony to the city below, and the forestry and ocean below that.

This is my home, she reiterated to herself, unlike how she'd talked to Dick just moments before. Even then, her gaze slipped to the horizon line far off in the distance where it became almost indistinguishable where the sky and sea met.

If she were being honest with herself, she hadn't thought about her old life, her old friends since she stepped foot on Themyscira. Guilt tugged at her heart, but she reminded herself that it was them that encouraged her to leave, to find herself again.

Even so, with Dick's unexpected arrival, Y/N realised one thing. She missed them all dearly.

But not Dick Grayson. Absolutely not.

'Your friend,' Queen Hippolyta finally said, eyes never leaving the view in front of her, 'he is... charming, to say the least.'

Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes. 'So he likes to think. And he's not my friend. Not anymore.'

It was silent again for a moment, and Y/N wondered for a moment if her grandmother had heard her at all. 'Either way,' her grandmother continued casually, 'he has certainly highlighted some weaknesses in our defences that we will need to remedy straight away.'

'I can get Cora and the rest of the Guard onto that right away,' Y/n said, grateful for the escape.

'Not just yet,' Queen Hippolyta said, bringing Y/N back to the balcony begrudgingly. 'Are you okay, dearest?'

Y/N scrunched her brows in confusion. 'I'm... fine? Why do you ask?'

Queen Hippolyta gave Y/N a knowing look that silently said Don't play dumb with me. 'Isn't he the boy who broke your heart?'

Embarrassment flooded Y/N's cheeks in a wave of red heat as Y/N shook her head furiously. 'He didn't break my heart. He made me realise I was better off without him.'

'Perhaps, but you are not better off without friends.'

The gentle touch of a hand on her arm brought Y/N's attention solely on her grandmother, who looked at her knowingly.

'I can see your love for this place, dearest,' the Queen said. 'From the moment you have arrived, you have thrown yourself into our way of life, into our community and given it your all.'

'Because this is where I come from, grandmother,' Y/N said. 'This is where I belong.'

'Right now it is, but it is not your home, Y/N.' When Y/N gave a confused expression, the Queen continued. 'The women all love you, so do the children, but they do not know you, you do not let them see you - the real you. Only the you that is Princess of Themyscira.'

Queen Hippolyta's hand travelled down to clasp one of Y/N's tightly, looking at her earnestly. 'Your real friends are the friends you left behind, the ones who have fought and lost and loved and laughed with you.' Her gaze flickered to the doorway briefly then returned to Y/N knowingly. 'And one of them came all the way across the world to find you, on the word of sailor stories and a lucky scientific guess.'

Y/N rolled her eyes again, and pulled her hand out of her grandmother's grasp. 'He is not my friend,' she repeated, turning her attention back to the sea, trying to focus on anything by Dick Grayson's stupid smiling face. 'He only came here to make himself feel better, not because he actually cares about me. Maybe once I needed his validation, but I know who I am now. And if he is what a friend is meant to be, then I think I am better off without them.'

'Y/N, dearest, just-'

'I would kindly ask that we never talk about Nightwing again, grandmother,' Y/N interrupted. 'Soon enough, he will be out of our lives - out of my life - forever...'

Queen Hippolyta remained silent for a moment, until she blew out a defeated sigh. 'If that is your wish,' she said, deflated.

'Yes, it is,' Y/N said with conviction, ignoring the painful tugging of her heart, ignoring the inner voice that wanted to scream otherwise. If Y/N was going to leave Dick Grayson behind, she needed to stop listening to her stupid heart and listen to reason. Like Athena, who was technically her ancestor in some respect.

Y/N turned back to the Queen and bowed a farewell. 'If you don't mind, I will go talk with Cora to discuss how to fix our defences right away.'

Queen Hippolyta gave a small nod, which Y/N took as dismissal enough, and so set a quick stride to the chamber doors. But just as she was about exit the balcony, her grandmother stopped her again.

'It's odd, don't you think,' she started, her tone coy, 'how, not even for a moment, he forgot his mission as he neared our island. Not once did he get deterred by our magic.'

Y/N turned around to face her grandmother, who gave a small knowing smile to her. 'He must have a strong will to resist such forces, or was motivated by something of equal power, don't you think?'

Y/N didn't say anything, her thoughts taking her back to the conversation they all had back in the throne room, when Dick was questioned about how he resisted the defences.

We were discussing your Princess, actually. We were just hoping she'd be out here...

Y/N rushed to exit the chambers, not even bothering to close the doors on her way out to fresh air.

What did Grandmother mean by that? she asked herself, and felt the tell tale signs of hope blooming in her. The increase heart rate, the tingles at the ends of her fingers, the small but warm ball sitting heavily in her chest. Surely she didn't mean...

Y/N shook her head; the tingles faded, the ball dissipated. I will not be tricked again, she told herself, proceeding to find her way to the training grounds, where she stayed until dusk fighting out her fears and squashing her childish hopes.

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

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ivory tower 18+ ASCENDED!ASTARION X AFAB!READER, 4.6K

Something deeply sordid, raw; ungodsly. There’ll be no Lathandrian blessing for your young, no gentle welcome into some family fayre on the outskirts of the city; but you want this.

woah boy! my first ascended astarion piece, so please be kind! dal is back babey! woooo! thank you to @bhaalism and @lipstickghoulie for dealing with me while writing this i love you both endlessly. wc: 4.6k cw: afab reader, female language used. breeding, mind-control, p in v, ascended astarion, public fingering, private banging, great times all round, as always if there are errors no there aren't, creampies, yippee

Baldur’s Gate doesn’t sleep. Not really.

She sometimes slows just enough to find some purchase amongst the muddle, though - tiptoes lazy through highsun in soft linens, the burgeoning swell of soap suds and sunny rosemary through wide open wooden shutters. Lingering - sweat-soaking worn leathers, the sore of the flex in the arch of your foot splayed over cobble. As if to grasp at the memory, your fingers stretch out from your side and on to the dark oak of the armrest, in a moment of sheer jubilance. Summer. The sun. Wide bright mornings. Hopeful and hot as a bated breath. 

The city ambles onward this evening, no different despite the inclement weather and the din of an early darkness. Half-lidded through dark streets as rain smatters the roofs with wet, glistening something dozy under the tall oil street lamps and swirls of ever-present heavy fog. Gurgling whilst each drain fills with water and swallows deep into the sewers. 

Scatters the hay, bears the slip; sings a slow drunken stutter of thunder-wind whiling at the windows into the small hours. There’s a comfort to be found in it. 

The harbour bell will go on to toll for every sail weary ship coming in from the fog; the crescent caress of the Gate’s waiting arms lit low with oily dots of amber. That even this late into the night the bands of trawlers on the dock work crates and barrels into cargo holds with worn hands and ruddy cheeks. The gulls and their scattering squawks. The flapping of their fat feathered wings up into the clouds. 

From where you sit in the Ivory Tower you can hardly see anything at all. Fog obscures the streets to a point, other than the light patches under the oil lanterns out on the ramparts. The window runs dripping wet with condensation. Pools under the pane. 

A hideaway of sorts within the manor. Newly reclaimed by Astarion in some deal with the quivering council in order to keep him sweet. Not that he has any armies of undead in his retainer to command as yet, but they don’t need to know that. There’s time. You’re still blessedly mortal and able.

Astarion. 

He should be skulking the halls somewhere below with that unnerving silent step he’s taken to using. Your cheeks grow warm, the blanket over your shoulders pulled closer into your chest as you allow your mind to run wild; the scald of bliss to your brain like that of some ironmonger’s poker, split straight to the core. 

Your love. Your lover. 

Amongst his many newfound desires and passions seemingly includes the impetus to redesign a centuries-old palace from scratch, and while you doubt he has the want nor willpower to take the project anywhere near to completion you’re more than happy to indulge him during this burst of creativity. A designer’s eye. Lavish yet not ostentatious, he tells you. Your own private wing of the palace, and one you’ll share together. He has no need for his own private chambers. You’re the only one he wants to be beside. You understand that at its essence, it isn’t even necessarily a want to design for creativity’s sake, it’s important to you both to have every memory of the residence’s former owner gone. Every threadbare tread of carpet, every scuff on the wall; every painting being demounted by workers downstairs and shipped to the auction house first thing in the morning. You can hear them if you still enough, heart still beating in your chest and the low chunter of layman gossip.

The version of him you knew before his ascension was so very scared. Beautiful, but wavering. You loved him of course; and you always will  - it was that version of him, the one lost in the wilderness that you fell for, and gods; you fell hard - frenetic and whiny, fleeting as light snow never to settle on the forest floor. Wild-eyed. 

But this Astarion - the real Astarion, as far as he is concerned - has you completely and utterly enraptured each day you wake together, the same as ever, from the second your eyes open. Wrapped in those Daerlunian-import plush linens atop your gargantuan newly-installed four poster bed. Face of marble with those cattish dark lashes and eyes of carnelian crush. Enchants every room he walks into, as he always has. 

You don’t know he’s with you until a hand ghosts your shoulder, sinewy; with those deft pale fingers deep encroaching on your collarbone in his grasp. 

“I didn’t hear you, lover.”

“But I heard you.’

He circles round the velvet armchair, resplendent in his home finery. Not a crease to be seen. Voice soft, yet laced with a bristling concern.

‘Why do you insist on sitting up here?”

You err for a brief moment. 

“I can hear the rain on the roof, here. See some bustle when the fog clears. The city goes on.” You shake your head with a smile as he crouches beside you, nestling his head in the crook of your arm.

“But it’s cold. Dark. Come down - I can light the fire in our sitting room if you like?” 

“We have so many centuries yet to see together! What sense is there in not observing the world as it is now? Keeping record of the city as we saved it?”

His head lifts and his eyes meet yours, some churlish quirk of a brow in the low light.

“An archivist, now? Is that to be your profession alongside me? Whilst you raise our young?”

“If I wish it to be, yes.”

He laughs, a gentle low hum.

“Then an archivist you’ll be - the most renowned in all the lands. We’ll make it so.’ He stands once more and takes your hands from your lap, bringing them clasped to his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. 

‘I’ll begin planning on your archives - I presume you’ll want a library? Or something similar in your wing, maybe even an office. Who knows?”

Astarion looks to the room around you, the shapes covered with old canvas and the rickety floorboards underfoot. Cobwebs in the corner. There’s no grimace nor displeasure. He simply surveys as cool as still water. Objective.

“I’ll have some of the merchants relay their contacts come morning too. If you insist on expanding your territory up here then it must befit you.”

“Befit me?” You grin now. His hold on your hands remains secure.

“If you want me to say it, then I suppose I will. As many times as it takes to get it through that heavy skull of yours.’

His smile reaches his eyes as he circles back behind your chair, fingers splayed over your shoulders once more in a deep round kneading pattern.

‘There’s nothing you won’t have if you want for it. Nothing too good for you to covet, my solace; Saviour to the whole Sword Coast and every plain mite within its bounds.’

There’s a small pause as he bows to kiss the top of your head.

‘And I thank the stars every day that I can provide for you. That you saw the potential in me and lifted me higher, to such profane glory amongst the swill of common man. That my gold, my influence, and terror, and each lift of my blade is at your command and yours alone. That you stayed at my side.” 

He doesn’t like to mention the gods, hence the stars. Pointedly brings the grimace back into play, occasionally even furrows with the slightest twinge of anger brewing at his brow. The gods had no role to play in your shared victories. No divine intervention saved him from two hundred years of torment, from certain death after the crash of the nautiloid along that sun-soaked span of rocky beach;-

You did. You with your strange inclination toward the weak man he once was. The shell he lived in like a hermit crab on the shore, nothing more.

-

On bright days, you thank him for giving you time.

Time to live, time to breathe with full lungs. Time to allow you to burn your eyes in the beating sun with a silver pot of fresh coffee and whatever ridiculous spew the papers hold between the pages today. 

You know as you sit in comfortable silence that your time dwindles, and that your turning is inevitable. Your eternal wedded bliss is to be alongside him and will be as vivid in nature as all the colours of the astral plane, if he’s to be believed - and there’s no reason not to see his word as gospel. You can see each moment as crystalline as sea glass on sand. Forever with the man you love more than you’ve ever felt inclined to love anything. The bridal ceremony is but a drop in the vast ocean of your lives together. 

He thanks you too. Often alongside you with eyes closed in some dozy recline, forearm hanging lazily whilst he takes the sun on his skin like a blessing. A loose linen shirt akin to the one he wore back at camp at the start of your journey together, strings wide open, a blaze of blinding flesh at the corner of your eye each time he shifts.

The veranda on a clear day. Astarion has assured you he’ll never take this from you. He’ll never take anything that you don’t willingly give him with a clear heart - and why would you give him your ability to bask in the sun, like a street cat in days-warm dust? What purpose does that serve either of you, beyond making you a less useful weapon in his prized arsenal?

At one point, all you wanted was to talk to him - and it rings true even now. The want to be the bearer of all his tales. To learn about him, to be close to him; to hear him tear the world apart with that dulcet snarl, walking alongside each other on the barren dirt trails out in the wilderness. Hop-skipping to keep up with his quiet gait. Giving him back as good as you got. The glimmer of his hair in the sunlight, the way he’d sometimes just stop.

Close his eyes. Feel the heat. The gentle burn of highsun on tender flesh. A soft inhale.

That morning out in the clearing after your first night together. Arms outstretched in a welcome to the light. It had taken a few minutes for it to click as you’d silently watched on, why his sun salutation was so fond. So open.

It’s to be a long engagement with regard to your transformation whilst the manor undergoes renovations. Reason after reason as to why now isn’t the ideal time to commit you to eternity. You know why he wants to keep a hold on your precious mortality for the time being, of course; and that keeps you from the forever embrace of his Dark Kiss. It never changes. 

You’ll allow him to sire your children. You want him to. Crave it. Him.

Your very own lineage together, he whispers; frenzied by your ear as his fingers crawl the bare span of your thigh. He can breed you full like fate intended and you’ll have something - besides him - that’ll also last forever. Something of your own surpassing the death of all of your contemporaries. The Vampire Ascendant and The Saviour of Baldur’s Gate, flesh-on-flesh, skin smacking skin; his debauched groans and lewd whimpers as he buries himself inside you, your cooing breaths;-

You’ll wed normally too, for the interested eyes of the city. Some dull ceremony with the elites adorning all tables as gilded pieces might some decorative chess board, deceptive vows. Legally it makes things easier should anything befall either of you but the hassle almost makes the whole thing undesirable - gods, especially because he already treats you as some smitten newlywed might. Adores you. Follows you around the manor, stalking; like some wolf cub after its mother. Carries you to bed each evening and ploughs you senseless, until spit gathers in the corners of your wet, wanting mouth and you can’t see straight through grey-blear eyes.

He likes the idea of you taking his name by law. Melds with your own like it were meant to be, from the starter threads of whatever cosmic tapestry pulled you together, the marriage of your first name to his last, interwoven by a scholar’s hand in gold-shining delicate point.  

Ancunín. The House of.

Tapestries. Large, spanning the halls. The Sarsantyr's over in Waterdeep - they’ll be able to create what you’re picturing. 

A familiar gaze meets yours. It’s then that you realise you aren’t alone in your mind once more

“If you want tapestries, you only have to ask.” 

“In fairness - you didn’t give me a chance to.”

He hums, tilting his head a little in the sun’s glare.

“I’ll send for them. The Sarsantyr's, yes? Have them pack up all their little-’

He pulls a face and lifts his hands in some kind of puzzled shake.

‘Sewing bits? Textiles? I’ll send carriages. They can come and stay in the lower rooms. Create the masterpiece you envision.” Astarion sniggers a little at the thought of putting them in the old dormitory while you remain lost in thought.

“Okay. Check them through first though, yes? 

The real event - the wedding - will give you total ecstasy beyond your wildest preconception, you know this. Unfettered and euphoric. Books and books on the topic stacked clumsily beside your bed, reds and greens; the turning of a vampire bride in leather bound prose. You know what to expect in florid detail. You know to trust your lover, that the rabid creature you’ll become is only a temporary mental state precursing an eternity alongside him. 

And yet, you wonder about the children. They’ll be here by then. However many he decides is enough, naturally; assumedly under the care of some hired help whilst you engage in your thoroughly bastardised pastiche of a wedding ceremony. You laugh now. He’s still in your head, mulling over your thoughts as soon as you can think them. 

Will you miss them? Will they be your last thought before you pass away; Astarion unable to complete this ritual alone as he was unable to before? Will your death lead to his, leaving your dhampir offspring to ravage Baldur’s Gate unsupported by the windfall of knowing parents? There’s still no hesitation, though. You will bear his young. You want to. The consequences either way are vast and long-lasting, and you’d rather be at his side than facing his ire- 

“Love, what are these thoughts? What on earth is going on in that very pretty head of yours today?” His voice is a low drawl, pitying yet laced with affection. He sits straight in his chair whilst a hand lazily searches for yours atop the sun-warmed table; beyond the scope of the ramparts wall the low meander of city life continues on.

“Mulling things over.”

“You don’t need to do that, pet. Come now.’ He beckons you onto his lap and wraps his arms around your middle, hand searching for the soft pillow of your chest as your ass backs up to his abdomen.

‘You want me to make it better?” 

You nod gently, the sun catching your eye in a particularly bright beam and making you squint. 

“Please.”

“Poor thing. It’s okay.” As he coos; one hand finds the curve of soft flesh at your chest, holding the weight of your breast firmly as he starts lightly thumbing at the nipple through your nightshirt.

“There, now. Good girl.” Your head falls back onto his shoulder, a deep sigh as he lulls you into a new state of calm astride him. Birds sing overhead whilst you nuzzle his neck.

“I will miss this warm flesh of yours, you know. Terribly so.’ His other hand moves to your nightskirt, gently hitching the material bit-by-bit up your thighs until you sit exposed to the air. Nobody can see you from here - the faceless crowd little but colourful dots below; Astarion giving a small tense laugh as he feels your pulse quicken against him. 

He toys with your skirt, edging ever nearer your exposed cunt; and your eyes flutter closed. 

‘But the greater purpose… I just can’t let it go. Us. Our lives together. I sincerely doubt you want to wither away to age; to lose your extraordinary beauty-’

A gentle groan as he feels your warmth.

‘Do you, my most precious flower?” 

“Of- Of course I don’t. I want to be with you, as we are; forever.”

“Then we’re going to need to make a concerted start on the only thing setting us back, are we not?” His fingers gently tap on the crux of your pubic bone, threateningly close to your clit. You feel the familiar seep of your slit leaking onto the bunched skirt fabric and you think of honey. Some kind of sweet glaze.

“Yes.”

As you sink further into him his fingers move down just a little to meet your clit; and in response to your delighted sighs he very lightly begins to stroke either side of the engorged flesh. There’s no urgency to his movement nor his demeanour; just a treacle-thick teasing grin as he turns his head to kiss your blazing cheek.

“Good.”

There’s something borderline celestial about the gentle way he touches you, coaxing more of your slick from you with every gentle jerk. He deftly motions ‘come hither’ with a soaking middle finger dipping lightly at your hole then brings your arousal up to wetten your clit once more.

“You want this, don’t you?” A finger slips down to your cunt, this time slipping and nestling deep inside as you feel yourself writhe on him. One arm scrambles around the back of his neck to support yourself while he begins to curl at your spongy spot, and the anchor of your arousal shifts free.

“I’ve been rifling through that glorious mind of yours these past few days and I see you now. You want comfort. To comfort. To seek shelter in those warm lights on the horizon, to know you aren’t alone in the late hours.”

You nod furiously, wincing, desperate to feel him deeper. Thicker. You need more, your fox-eyed paramour giving only the barest minimum he can do to watch you squirm.

“You, with my babe in arm;- oh the image alone does things to you, doesn’t it?”

It’s as if he’s creating the visions in your head as he speaks them, bringing them to the forefront of your mind in hushed coos and silent gasps. As if by magic, the only thing on your mind is a primal need for him to fuck you full. Nothing else, no mind for coffee nor completed manor renovations. 

You will be round. You will brim with life before he turns you, and you’ll take to his seed the minute he offers it to you. You’ll accommodate him like no other across Toril could hope to. You wonder if he has the power to decide how many, as he adds another finger to your unbridled torment. If he could choose to speed the process up with a celebration of twins, triplets. An heir and two spares. Maybe he’d wait instead until the first was born, just to ensure the viability of his bloodline. A test.

He’s doing this; you become starkly aware as he withdraws his fingers, spiderwebs of glistening drool clinging to your inner thigh as he brings them between his lips and suckles. He’s giving you these ideas of grandeur because he can. Because you are his. Because you wouldn’t want to belong to anyone else, to be tied to any other notion of whatever a fulfilling life is, if it weren’t one shared wholly by him. With him.

“Let me take you inside, sweet one. Let’s take care of you properly, shall we? Curb this fever, hm?”

Please, you think. Please take this burning hole in my womb and make it full with you. Extinguish the flame with your unholy spend and give me children. Give me oud and orchids and a life of warmth, however long we both may live.

“Use your words, my love. Tell me you want this.”

“I want this. Please.”

-

On the bed you now lie, the room cool and dark; balcony doors open wide with light-billowing curtains. Sweat consumes you as your thoughts run wild, the smell of your arousal, clammy hands and deep breaths in the low light. Astarion approaches like something from a dream, shirtless now; smirk plastered cheek-to-cheek as he leans over your trembling form with confidence - your lust-addled fingers reaching for his steady form like a ship to harbour. 

“You want to feel it, little dove? Feel how you set me alight?”

He pries your wrist from him with gentle urgency, taking your hand under his and skating both downwards; down the plane of his tight torso, slowing to a stop just above his pelvis.

“Tell me - do you want to feel it?”

A small smirk plays at the corner of your lips, but he doesn’t seem to notice - watching the way your hand twitches under his.

“Hm?”

His groan is guttural. Thick. He doesn’t even try to mask it, eyes wide as his hand shifts yours just a little further down and over the blistering burn of his heavy cock through loose linen trousers. A hazy sigh as he moans a small whimper at your touch.

“Please, Astarion. I beg you.”

It’s like his fingers are enchanted, the way they reduce you to this sodden mess. Unable to think unless guided delicately by his superior whim. 

“I need to bury myself inside you fully for this to take. I need your full attention, submission; your devotion to our lives together. Do I make myself clear?”

He’s giving you one final chance to withdraw. Your head clears for one sweet moment and you can do little else but stare at his bulge with heavy lids and your mouth agape.

“Crystal. I ache for you. Please, give this to me.”

You lift to meet him in a soft kiss, jaw slackened and cunt ablaze. Nothing else matters, no complications, nor possibilities of horribly mangled spawn from your womb as a result of your copulation. This scalding stupor that sends you insane won’t go away until he quenches it with his seed. 

Your response has satisfied him, if the way he stands sharpish and unties his trouser laces is anything to go by. The glassy head of his cock stands purple at his stomach, leaking wild at the slit and red-hot as your hand reaches blindly for him in your hunger.

He gently taps you away and back down onto the sheets. 

“Magic?” You hear yourself mumble, still amazed at how surely swollen he must feel with how sore he looks. Has to be. 

“Just me.”

There’s a tenderness in his eyes as he crawls back over you, legs instinctively parting and lifting at the knee to accommodate him. Something that compels him to hold your face in the hand that isn’t supporting his weight and just look at you, fondly; for what feels like an age.

Then he shifts once more to angle himself, decidedly spending no more time on preparation. The heat of his cock against your slit is unlike anything you’ve ever known, dizzying yet pleasurable; hard and yet still yielding, and as he thrusts a shallow dip into your core you swear you see angels overhead. Yes, you’re ready. You’ve never been more ready for anything than you are for the sheer ecstasy you know he’s about to give you, and he’s going to give you it in droves. Seismic tremors as he shifts a little and you adjust to him once again.

He nods. He hears you. 

Then, he snaps once more; and he’s lost.

Each glub of his cock meeting your spill as he ruts into you; the way you feel it running downward in long dribbles, with each and every mindless hump of his hips eking more honey from your cunt in spades. 

You hear the sounds of your shared carnal pleasure and it makes you clench around him in some kind of self-perpetuating cycle. Groans and whimpers and moans and hisses and the frequent egregious slaps to your thighs whilst he chases his high. 

He’s perfect like this. Halo of curls above you, voice silken as he calls you every pet name under the sun, his, always. Your legs ache already from being wound so tightly, interlocked around him, and you think of the prespill inside you already. How each fangy showman’s smile means he’s twitching at your cervix and leaking molten gold inside you with every thrust. 

It’s not until he nuzzles down to your neck that you remember to offer it, potentially for the last time on this mortal coil. 

“Are you asking?”

“Well, you didn’t offer.”

The immediate pang is one of violent nausea, subsiding quickly into a wooze coating the bottom of your stomach in black tar as he fucks upward. Unease. There’s something in his spit, you assume. Something that makes the gaping wounds a little more bearable, a little less raw as he kitten-licks the flesh between swallows. Ice courses your veins with adrenaline as it always does.

Astarion chokes down his first sip with an eager cough. The burgeoning panic wracking your limbs turns into a numbed haze as your lover feasts, big neat gulps whilst he clutches at your ribcage with fingers splayed deep and cock buried to the hilt, like a man starved. His hair tickles  at your jaw, the smell of something herbal. Slightly lemony. 

He splutters that he’s close and you feel yourself nearing your peak too.

There’s a profane desecration in what he’s doing, painting your walls in an attempt to get you pregnant. Something deeply sordid, raw; ungodsly. There’ll be no Lathandrian blessing for your young, no gentle welcome into some family fayre on the outskirts of the city. No villages to raise them, no cards nor flowers from friends or family; but you want this. 

You want him to taint you in his particular shade of crimson, visibly; so the realms know who made The Saviour of Baldur’s Gate come to heel. The man who compelled her through sheer love alone and to whom she gave everything. The indomitable force for whom you’ll die, only to resurrect forever as his.

Visions of your turning don’t scare you - all lightning and thunder, the cries of your dhamplings in some nursery down the towering halls of your palatial wing; and yet you’ll be safe in his caress. He wouldn’t let a single thing happen to you. He won’t. 

And as he cums; he calls your name.

Some rhythmic prayer over and over again; and with each kick of his cock he loses some of his bedroom charm and hurtles back to earth, humbly enraptured. More candid. His weary muscles tighten as yours threaten your own release around him.

“Cum for me, now. Milk me.” in a heavy whisper whilst he strokes the soft flesh of your cheek; and you do. You cum harder than you can remember ever before. Each wave of sheer pleasure some blackout tidal wave as you writhe, staccato in his arms. 

If you die during the ceremony, you’ll die happy. Should the younglings bite their way through your womb, it won’t matter.

You’re loved. He loves you, in soft kisses and gentle arms carried all the way to the waiting washtub. In the way he sponges your aching shoulders and brings a washcloth to your dazed face.

Baldur’s Gate doesn’t sleep, not really.

But tonight it will, in the patient, visceral bliss of calm before a summer storm.

[sarawritestories]

Dance With Me, Pretty Girl

Cassian X Fem (Plus size )Reader

Summary: Cassian has been away on a mission for over a month and Reader just misses him and she was having a low self esteem day when she comes home and finds a surprise for her

Content warning: Low self esteem, lonely, so much fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 1,199 words

ACOTAR Masterlist

 This past month has been exhausting. You had tried to keep yourself busy and Rhys and Feyre kept you busy with small assignments and watching Nyx, but you missed your mate. This mission Your High Lorrd had him on was the longest you’ve been apart since the war. You smiled at the memory of when the mating bond snapped for you.

It was something out of a romance novel you were on a ladder at the bookstore you owned, reaching to get a book at the top when your foot slipped. The next thing you knew two large muscular hands had caught you and were cradling you in his arms. Your eyes met his and the bond snapped. Heat crept up your face, “Thank you, you can put me down, I know I’m pretty heavy.”

The male chuckled and you caught gleam of a red stone on his chest and your eyes widened, you were mated to the General of the Night Courts armies, “Sweetheart, you are not heavy.” He puts you down, though his hand slid from your back and grazed your arm a shiver ran through your spine as goose pimples rose from your flesh. His calloused scarred hand lifts yours to his lips and plants a kiss there and electricity thrummed through your body. His eyes widened and you felt it, felt him tugging on the bond, “I don’t even know your name,” He whispered.

“Y/N my name is, Y/N.” He grinned and you couldn’t help but reciprocate one for him,

“Y/N,” he tries your name out on his lips and his voice makes your stomach flip. “What a gorgeous name,” His eyes rake over my body and my voluptuous curves. “For a gorgeous female. My name is Cassian.”

And you have rarely ever been a part since that day. Though you both agreed to wait to accept the mating bond until you got to know each other and the two of you ended up spending everyday together. And he made sure to worship your body and always made sure that you always felt beautiful.

He’s been gone for the month and the most you had gotten was small caress down the bond in the morning and before he went to bed. Just to let you know he was thinking about you. Today had been the hardest day though, you woke up and looking at yourself in the mirror had been hard. All your clothes fitted you in all the wrong places and every blemish was amplified. Your hair would not cooperate with you. So, your hair went up in a bun you wore one of Cassian’s T-shirts shirts closing the patches for his wings and placed on sweatpants.

Rhys and Feyre had let you stay in the river house while your mate was away. When you came downstairs, they smiled at you, “Morning, Y/N.” Feyre beamed.

“Morning, I think I’m going to go home today.” Rhys and Feyre exchanged a look.

Rhys nodded in understanding, “Sure would you mind stopping into the city and running some errands for us.

Errands turned into going from one end of the city to the other grabbing odds and ends things, Paint brushes, stationary, baby shoes for Nyx, okay you couldn’t resist stopping the baby store to shop for the heir they did not ask you to go, but you loved spoiling your nephew. By the time you finished shopping for them the sun was setting, and you were ready to sleep in your own bed.

Unlocking the door, your eyes widened when you saw rose petals all over the floor. The roses led a path to your living room. Once you shut the door you follow the petals and then you feel it. Feel him and you run to the living room where Cassian is grinning broad his wings tucked back is armor gone. He’s in dress shirt and slacks a bouquet in one hand a dress in the other, “Hi you.” His voice warms your skin like a tight embrace.

“Hi, I thought you were going to be gone for a few more days.” I move down and I get a smell of his scent of sandalwood.

Cassian places the flowers and dress down and scoops you in his arms. His fingers digging into your soft flesh. Rhys said you were feeling lonely and that I did enough. Told him I would come home straight away. Though I needed my girl distracted for a little bit to make her feel extra special.” He kissed your nose, and it caused you to giggle.

That would explain why Rhys sent you all over the city you nuzzled into his neck, “I missed you.” You whispered.

He squeezed you lightly, “I missed you too.” He put you down and handed you the flowers and the dress. “Will you get dressed for me, Sweetheart? We are having a date night in.” He smiles, “But I want to dress for the occasion.”

You nod your head, and he pressed his lips to yours. When you pull away and turn, he takes the opportunity to slap your ass and you glare his way and he simply responds with a wink.  You ran upstairs and got changed.

The dress was an evening gown that looked like it was dipped in starlight and the front had a deep V that accentuated your full breast and hugged your hips, it made you feel womanly and when you walked downstairs Cassian was pouring the wine. He looked up and his mouth dropped open. You felt self-conscious and hugged around yourself. “Don’t.” Cassian scolded walking over and pulling your arms from your body. “Don’t hide, you’re the most beautiful female in Velaris.”

I snort, “I’m sure Feyre and Mor would hate that you said that.

“I could care less about them. To me, you shine brighter than all the stars in the sky. I’m lucky to bask in a small fraction of that light.”  He held out his hand. “As a matter of fact, dance with me, pretty girl.” You placed your hand in his and he pulled your hand close to his chest his hand enveloping over yours. The other hand wrapped around your waist until your stomach meets his toned chest, “Stop it.”

“Stop what,” You asked sheepishly.

“Stop comparing your body to mine. I have always found your body sexy. Always found you sexy and now I’m dancing with my sexy wife.”  He pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes closing as the two of you began to sway with no music playing.

Your eyes fluttered close and gone are the self-doubt and concerns about life as he holds you close and swayed. The two of you spent hours just swaying around the kitchen where he whispered how much he loved you and was happy to be home. And in one swift move he pulls you put, spins you in and dips you, where he trails kisses from your neck all the way up to your lips where he lays so much passion and love in the kiss and down the bond. He was home and, in your arms, you were happy. Nothing else mattered.

[prime-adeptus]

the lucio nation army has decided to back off (same anon as before- hiya~) and now we feast. how about some cassidy cuddles?

FIVE MORE MINUTES – COLE CASSIDY X READER

Soft is the very last word he’d use to describe himself, but you know it for sure: your Cole Cassidy is a total softie. 

CONTENT.⠀gender-neutral reader. just fluff. Cass calls you 'sweetheart' and refers to you as his partner. ~0,6k words

NOTES.⠀I'm so sorry for this horrendously late response LOL it's been a busy week. Here's a sleepy, clingy Cassidy for the soul <3

You don’t think Cole realises just how affectionate he is.

A pat on the back, a gentle clasp on the shoulder after a job well done, a noogie if he’s feeling playful. He’s changed a lot over the years, but he’s still the same man you love. He’s carefree, keeping tension off the air with his chatter. He’s close to the rookies, putting up with Hana’s teasing jabs or going through one of Zarya’s ‘easier’ regimens. He trains at the shooting range with Fareeha every Thursday. He tries to help Baptiste with whatever he can, even if he’s more distracting than helpful.

He’s not shy with physical affection—that much is obvious. He’s more careful with his superiors (as he should be, you think bemusedly) but with you?

Total free rein.

He kisses your cheek every morning, greeting you with a good morning, sugar that never fails to elicit a reaction from you. He kisses your forehead every night, holds you close against his chest as his fingers dance across your skin until you both fall asleep. He likes having his arm around your waist, loves letting your hands brush together when you walk side by side.

Soft is the very last word he’d use to describe himself, but you know it for sure: your Cole Cassidy is a total softie. 

If it were any other time, you’d tease him for it, but your love for him consumes your being entirely. You let the innate desire for him to be yours, heart, mind and soul, grow stronger every time he glances your way. You want to be the only one who gets to see him like this—asleep, at peace, at home. He’ll call you a sap if you ever say these things out loud, but the redness at the tips of his ears will betray him. Much like the smile on his face will.

The morning sun shines and peeks through the gap between the curtains as the day begins its course. Cole grumbles something in his sleep, not quite ready to start the day just yet, and languidly pulls himself closer to your body. You can feel his chest against your back, rising and falling with each breath he takes. It falls into a rhythm that lulls you into a state of tranquillity, but as much as you’d like to stay here, there’s a lot of work to catch up with today.

Begrudgingly, you push yourself into a sitting position. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can rest, right?

“Cass,” you whisper, gently shaking him awake. “Get up.”

He blinks one eye open, his brows furrowed until his gaze lands on you. Relaxing and sinking deeper into the sheets, he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you back down. An endearing chuckle rumbles in his chest at the surprised yelp you let out.

“It’s our day off, sweetheart.” Sleep is still evident in his voice as he speaks. He leans forward to press a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “Work can wait.”

You sigh in mock exasperation, though you don’t make an effort to pry his arm off your waist. “You promised to help out Torbjörn and Baptiste today, remember?”

“No clue what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Cass.”

“Hmm.”

You bite back a smile. “You’re gonna prove Hana right, y’know. About you being a lazy bum.”

“Can’t I just spend the morning in bed with my partner?” His complaint is more playful than it is of genuine upset. With how close you are to him, figuratively and literally, you can just tell that he’s in a good mood. “Come on, sweetheart. Five more minutes.”

And his five more minutes will turn into ten more, fifteen more until someone inevitably comes to look for one of you and rings the buzzer at the door. It’s never five more minutes with him, but as he peppers soft kisses from your neck to the curve of your shoulder, you think you don’t mind spending the entire morning like this.

[drghostwrite]

Out at sea…

Disclaimer: So a long time ago I read a fic about Emma having her and Hooks baby on the boat and thought I might twist it a little and give us another chapter to our Regina x reader stories.

Pairing: Regina Mills x reader

Summary: After a hard stretch of weeks the family has a day out but what happens when one member decides to finally make an appearance.

******************************************************** You stood on the ship deck near the bow watching the sea roll out in front of you, being 8 1/2 months pregnant most people would get sea sick but instead you stood letting it calm you. Being commander of armies in the enchanted forest you did a lot of traveling and you grew up on a boat your mother being a notorious pirate, so it always had a way of taking you back to your roots. You felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind and someone’s chin rested on your shoulder, “enjoying the view?”

“mmm…” you said in response pressing you head into her cheek. “It has a way of taking me back.” You then fully turned in her arms allowing your body to relax into her, taking in the sight before you long black wind blown hair with her deep brown eyes, she didn’t wear makeup and you smiled at how she let out a smirk her perfect white teeth peaking through.

“Do you ever miss it?” She asked holding you the best she could your bump in the way.

“The enchanted forest? Sometimes.”

“Really?” She asked and you pulled back slightly looking over each other features.

“Yea but that’s not my home anymore, I’m not that person.”

“I can understand that.”

“Regina, listen to me love, I wouldn’t go back to how it was, coming here gave me this beautiful life, and friends and most importantly you, I would never go back if it meant losing you or this baby.”

“You are both my entire world and Henry, I couldn’t lose any of you.” Before you could both say anything else you heard clashing of wood behind you, turning around you watched as Henry and David fought with wooden swords, Emma laughed with Snow as Hook stood managing the helm.

“Hey Y/N care to join?” David called to you, as Henry ran towards you with and extra sword.

You laughed as you and Regina made you way towards the group, “You know its a good thing I’m pregnant otherwise I would come kick your butt.”

“I’d like to see that.” Henry said as you rustled his hair.

“Soon buddy, and I’ll show your grandpa how it’s done.”

“Oh yea!” He said excitedly running back towards the action. Regina had found a spot next to Emma and Snow motioned next to her. You made your way over and slowly lowered yourself.

“So how you feeling mama?” Emma asked.

“As can be expected.” You shrugged.

“I’m sure you’re ready to go though.” Snow mentioned.

“Oh you have no idea.” You shifted uncomfortably in the seat, Regina eyed you carefully.

“how much longer?”

“Depends they said 2-4 weeks Zelena is thinking I’ll be overdue.”

“I’m sure it’ll work out, Charming babies have a tendency to come early.”

“Well luckily she’s not a Charming.” Regina laughed, but you shifted uncomfortably again.

“let me tell you though I don’t think I can do another month, every muscle aches all the time and don’t get me started on the smells, I feel superhuman some days.” Everyone laughed, you all sat and enjoyed the sun before the sky started to cloud over slightly making a cool breeze blow, you let it soothe you but it wasn’t long before your muscles started to ache and you were shifting again, you decided to walk it off. Making your way towards the helm to talk to Killian the other three ladies talking, Regina kept a close eye on you, watching you talk to Hook.

“Hey love you okay?”

“Good as I’ll ever be, just a little sore.”

“You don’t get seasick do you I mean with the baby and all.”

you chuckled, “No I was practically raised at sea so I find it calming.”

“raised at sea?”

“My mother was a pirate, I was her only daughter and she wasn’t going to stop for anyone.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Yea well everyone has their skeletons.” You felt a hand come to your back, you turned being met by Snow.

“Hey you okay, Regina is down there watching you like a hawk.”

“That’s my wife… I’m just really sore and sitting there wasn’t helping, besides like I said earlier Zelena thinks I have at least two weeks.”

“True but babies come on their own time, she’s just being careful, she cares for you and this baby a lot.”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve her.” You both smiled, you watched as the sky was still cloudy, one wave rolled just enough and came up over the side of the ship splashing Henry and David below Regina and Emma laughed at the boys but you were preoccupied by the puddle at your feet.

“Only our boys, am I right?” Snow laughed, but got no response from you, she turned and saw the puddle at your feet.

“Wait that splash wasn’t that big…Y/N?”

“Okay scratch the whole two week thing I think my water just broke.”

“Oh god okay, Regina!” As soon as Snow called she was bounding up the stairs Emma hot on her heels.

“what’s going on?”

“I…uh… mm… my water just…uhhh god here comes one.” You said reaching out, Regina catching you as you dug your nails into her forearm but she didn’t care.

“Looks like another family member wanted to make their appearance today.” Snow said a hand on your back as you leaned into Regina both of them trying to guide you down stairs, you heard Hook call to Emma to put you in his chambers as they’d have more room.

You could hear everyone frantically moving around and it wasn’t helping as you tried breathing through contractions.

“Wait…” you said making it into the large room the bed in the middle, hook redid the inside after permanently moving in with Emma and made this more of a luxury boat, on with large ornate rooms made for comfort which right now you had mixed feelings about.

“What wrong?” Regina asked looking at you.

“Zelena…” you said trying to catch your breath, “You need to call Zelena.”

“Why… aren’t we going to make it back in time?” Emma said looking between the three of you.

Regina and Snow shared a look, “Emma were 6 hours off shore, this baby might not wait that long.”

“Um….hhhnghhh…” you tried speaking another contraction interrupting you.

“it’s okay love.” Regina said feeling your nails dig into her arm again, grip tightening as you battled another contraction that brought you to your knees beside the bed.

“No….no, Zelena thinks there’s complications with the…I…she needs to be here…please you need to call her.”

“Comp…complications?” Regina said, she was so focused but you saw the war starting behind her eyes, she thought about losing you or this baby, she couldn’t do that not again, she’s fought so hard for a happy ending.

“Regina…baby?” You said squeezing her hand and pulling her out of her ugly daydream, “it might not be anything but…” you winced through another contraction.

“Better safe than sorry…” another female voice filled the room and everyone turned their heads.

“Zelena?” Regina looked at her sister, hopeful and confused.

“Hey sis, Hook called,” the redhead looked sympathetically at the younger raven-haired woman who was still guarding you with her body. Before anyone could say anything else you let out a loud guttural moan filling the room. Zelena quickly rushed to your side, placing her bag on the bed in front of you, as you were currently knelt down gripping the blankets on the edge not wanting to move.

"Okay mama just breathe through it... how long has she been contracting?" she looked around the room, all faces showing that no one was sure.

"I've been having braxton hicks, or that's what I thought they were, they started around 8 this morning, and my water broke about 20-30 minutes ago."

"It's 4pm... you've been contracting for 8 hours."

"Y/N, why didn't you say anything?" Regina asked concerned.

"I didn't want to worry anyone and you all were so excited about today, and after the past couple of weeks we really needed it... besides I've treated so many first time moms and they always mistake pre-term contractions for the real deal."

"Darling..."

"I...mnhnhhh...I promise it wasn't...hnhgnhhh."

"Okay mama, these babies aren't waiting I'm going to need to check you out." without thinking about it Zelena let out the little secret you’d both been keeping, helping you drop your pants and get up on the bed she covered your legs with a blanket as you fell back against the pillows.

“Zelena did you just say babies?” Snow asked shocked.

“Um…what’s she talking about? Zelena what does she mean?”

“Twins… we’re having twins.” You strained out sitting up on your elbows.

“I’m sorry I only found out a few weeks ago and Y/N had me promise.”

“that was before she was going to go into labor 6 hours from Storybrooke and on a boat!” Regina yelled.

“Babe… I didn’t wanna get your hopes up, not until we were sure…gahhhhh.”

“She’s right we weren’t sure how it happened but after the run in with our mother something with our magics altered the pregnancy, I wanted to make sure everything was okay with the babies.” Zelena explained as you fought through another contraction.

“Talk later… these babies are coming now.”

“Okay breathe I need to check how dilated you are,” Regina moved to your side while Zelena dug through her bag pulling on gloves, “okay mama little pinch and pressure, just gotta check here.” You nodded letting out a small whimper as you felt her checking you out. “Okay Y/N you’re a lot farther than I thought.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means that your baby’s head is almost crowning so this is typically when you start pushing.”

“Wait I thought we had a couple hours?” Regina asked worried, her worst fear was coming back, she couldn’t lose any of you and being out at sea was amplifying all those fears.

“Right now that’s not the issue, these babies are coming whether we want them to or not.” Zelena said trying to snap Regina out of it.

“What do you need from us?” Snow asked into the room.

“Well Snow I’m going to need your hands, Emma I want you to take care of everything above deck, I don’t care what you have to do get us back ASAP…” both women nodded and moved quickly. “Okay now Y/N I need some pushes from you so we can deliver baby number one.” You nodded and some screaming a pushing and a little blood later and cried filled the room as your little boy was born, things moved quickly Snow wrapping him up and holding him while more contractions rolled over you.

It wasn’t long before you felt baby two getting ready, but you watched as she leaned and said something to Snow “Wh-What’s going on?”

“Y/N I need you to…” Zelena started.

“Wh-What’s going on with my baby?”

“Your baby is breech, which worries me with being on a boat and far from the hospital.”

“S-so whagahh- does that mean?”

“Y/N…”

“Zelena do what you need to do, if you need to cut, cut.”

“WHAT NO!” Regina yelled.

“No no nobody is getting cut, I’m not doing a cesarean on a boat, I can do an external version but it’s going to hurt like hell.”

“Do it!.. whatever you need to do, do it.” She nodded and placed her hands on your exposed bump feeling for the baby, she had one hand higher and one lower and tried rotating the baby and she wasn’t wrong it did hurt, Regina was on the bed next you and you turned clinging to her, face pressed against her chest, one arm folded under you as the other gripped onto her bicep, nails digging into her arm as she held you.

“Okay I think baby’s turned, Y/N I need some really big pushes from you.” Two pushes later and you were so close to holding your baby but instead another complication.

“hold on, don’t push, stop pushing.”

“bu—but… what’s wrong?” Zelena looked up at you sympathetically, she placed a hand on your knee.

“The baby… it’s the cord, it’s wrapped around its neck.”

“Zelena save my…nnnghh…save my baby…”

“I will…err… I am.” You could feel pressure and she tried maneuvering your baby and getting the cord loose.

“okay im going to need a really big, big push to help your baby… can you do that for me?” She asked and you nodded, “okay on count of three, 1…2…” you pushed with everything you had, delivering your baby and she quickly started working you sobbed in your wife’s arms as you didn’t hear anything.

after what seemed like an eternity a strong cry filled the room, “yes baby girl, yes, oh God okay… congratulations you have a beautiful baby girl.” She said handing her to the both of you, tears rolled down your faces.

4 hours later you found yourself laid up in the maternity suite at the hospital Zelena was evaluating you to make sure everything went okay as your babies got checked it by the nurses, Regina sat next to you filling out their names on the birth certificate, refusing to leave your side.

[multific]

Love As Deep As the Ocean

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Mermaid!Reader

Warnings: Simon's past, mention of blood, murder, abuse

Inspired by @halcyone-of-the-sea's work.

Word Count: 3K

Summary: Being one of the retired Knights of 141, Simon's only request was a small cottage close to the Ocean, when the King granted his wish, Simon hoped he could finally have the quiet life he longed for. But fate had other ideas.

Merfolk are incredibly curious and beautiful creatures.

Simon can recall hearing the stories about them when he was growing up.

Men warned each other about the creatures that lured men to danger and then killed them.

Simon heard stories as a young man that men hunted these creatures down. It was said that their scales are worth more than gold.

But then, as if they never existed, they disappeared.

Everyone assumed they killed them all, that every merfolk was gone.

Extinct.

Simon never believed in fairy tales.

He believed his eyes, not drawings or tales about creatures.

He believed what he saw.

And he never saw a mermaid in his life.

---

You thought he was a demon.

Always dressed in dark, covering his face.

You watched him as he walked along the beach every day. You saw him watching the sunset.

He was a strange man.

But again, all humans were strange to you.

Yet, somehow, this man captured your attention.

Every afternoon, he would come, walk along the beach to the rocks and sit there for hours, watching the sunset before leaving.

You heard that many humans enjoyed the sound of the water hitting the rocks.

You stayed far from him.

Always hidden, but you were also curious.

Then, one day, he arrived with a boat. A small fishing boat, you have seen many of.

He wasn't fishing, he was watching the water and the sky.

One day, you felt brave, you heard him snoring, which you knew meant he was sleeping on his ship.

You gripped the edge of the ship and pulled yourself up, Just below your belly button, your scales shined in the sun.

The man was lying on a chair, facing away from you.

You moved as quietly as you could, looking around his ship, you noticed something shiny not too far from you.

You reached over and touched the item before quietly falling back into the water with your newest item in hand. You quickly swam back to your underwater cave and looked at the item.

You have never seen such a thing before.

It was so shiny and weird.

You thought you had seen people with this item before, if you were correct they used it for eating.

A spoon?

Perhaps.

What a weird name for something.

The next day you found the man on his boat again, with the object in hand you swam up the surface and placed it back where you found it previously, or you tried to. It was difficult with him walking around the ship.

But you did give it back. And your mother taught you to not take things which don't belong to you.

Simon swore he had the spoon on top of the box, he swore he left it there before he fell asleep. And then, somehow, the same spoon appeared the next day on the other side of the ship in his basket.

He was going mad.

He bought this boat as a way to relax.

When he left the King's army, he knew he needed to take a step back and possibly stay away from people. So, he got a house with a small farm by the Ocean. The King gave him a piece of land of his choice, Simon found himself to be interested in the Ocean since he was young.

He often found himself wandering the sand as a child. Given how terrible his father had been with him, constantly abusing him, the Ocean calmed him.

Then he purchased the boat, giving him access to the deep blue.

He thought he could live his life like this. Quietly, in a nice secluded area.

But he kept noticing his things disappeared and then showed up on different parts of the ship.

One time he specifically tested it. He left a pair of glasses on his chair, the next time he saw them they were on the edge of his ship.

He suspected the birds, but the fact that his things got back to him was strange.

A week later, Simon was fishing from his boat near the rocks, it was a lovely sunny way.

He heard some water splashes. A weird sound, not the water against the rocks or his ship. It sounded as if someone jumped or dropped something into the water.

He recalled hearing this sound before, but now he was curious.

He quietly leaned back in his chair, looking at the back of his ship, he saw no one.

But then, the noise came again and it sounded closer. And this time, when Simon looked, he saw a young woman, leaning from the edge of the ship and reaching into his box, the box where he stores his tools.

He swore he stopped breathing and the woman looked at him, they locked eyes and she froze.

With her head stretched out, she just kept looking at him.

He caught her!

She was the one stealing from him all along!

But... how?

Then, Simon's eyes moved down her side and he saw the scales, and then he noticed the shine of her tail.

As if she sensed his thoughts, she moved quickly back into the water. Simon jumped up and rushed to where she disappeared, but he saw no one.

He swore she was only a fraction of his imagination. She had to be.

Simon never felt so confused in his life.

All those stories... were they true? Could they be true?

He looked at his toolbox and found nothing missing, then his eyes caught something shimmering on his boat.

A scale.

A beautiful, shiny scale.

He knew what it was worth. He knew what the King would give if he brought her to him. The King would give him his title back, he would be a noble knight.

Simon tried his best to remember her face. Hoping he would see her again.

He needed to be sure that he wasn't going crazy. The scale should have been enough, but no. He wanted to see her eyes again.

He put the scale into his pocket before heading home.

He couldn't sleep.

But neither could you.

This was the first time you saw his face.

It had been many many many years since a human saw you.

He was handsome, you concluded. But the fear in your heart didn't let you sleep.

You worried he would call people or hunt you down alone. You got too close and now, you feared the consequences.

You found yourself looking up at the surface of the water a lot.

But the next day, he didn't show.

Which really worried you.

But then, the next day, there it was.

The boat.

You debated swimming up or not.

It could be a trap.

You ended up going, very quietly you surfaced and looked at the side of the boat, you heard him wandering about, this is when you noticed an item on the very edge of the ship, the same one you tried to reach out for days before.

You looked around but saw no ships, no one was on the beach and he was alone on his ship judging by the footsteps.

You moved your hand and grabbed the object, swimming away, but staying on the surface.

As you swam back he came into view, he was looking at something in his box, now, he had his mask covering the lower part of his face, much like before.

He didn't seem to notice you for a moment but then he did.

You just watched him as he looked at your face.

"I'll need that for eating, lass." he said, his voice deep. He moved to the edge and you moved backwards. Keeping your eye on every movement, he reached out. "I need the fork."

You looked at the object in your hand then back up at him.

"Yes, that, now, give it to me, please?" you reached out your hand with the item and he took it. He moved back and grabbed his food, sitting down with his back to you, he started to eat.

What an interesting human he was.

You swam under his boat and grabbed the edge, coming up and looking at him, he stopped for a second.

"Can I have it once you are done?" you asked and you saw the shock in his eyes.

He didn't expect for you to speak.

"Why do you want it?"

"It's shiny. I will give it back later."

"And what if you drop it? It will go under the water and- oh, yeah, you could get it... Once I'm done, I'll wash it."

But then, you saw something better.

Around his neck. The shiniest silver you have ever seen. Simon followed your eyes and he soon realized.

"No, I'm not giving you that."

"It's a necklace. I like it."

"It's mine." you made a face of disappointment before going under. A couple minutes later you came back. He was now washing his dishes. You placed a beautiful shell on his deck.

"Trade me." you said and Simon almost laughed.

"No. It's not for sale." he said as he walked over, offering you the fork.

You thought about snatching the necklace but you rather not anger him, so you took the fork.

"Two shells?"

"No." Simon sat down and watched you admire his fork. "Are you not afraid of me?" he asked.

"Will you hurt me?" you asked and he shook his head, no. "I'm scared. But I feel like I could trust you."

"I thought mermaids were only a tale."

"Why?"

"No one has seen a mermaid before. Only the old stories lived."

"We hide, humans hunt us. They sent men like you, big, scary. The water was always red with blood. Every wave screamed with fear. Times changed, I might be the last one. I like you." you tilted your head before you handed him back the fork.

You turned to go back into the water when he spoke up.

"Will I see you again?" you looked at him and nodded.

Then, you left.

Simon looked at the shell on the deck of his ship before he looked at the water.

"Fuckin' hell." he said before he too, went home.

---

The next day, Simon found himself on his ship close to the rocks earlier than usual.

He wanted to see you.

And he didn't have to wait for long.

You showed up and sat on the edge of his ship, he nearly fell back when he saw you.

You talked a lot. He learned the fishes and sea creatures weren't much of listeners so you enjoyed talking to him very much.

This went on for weeks now.

Simon sailed out and sometimes, you were already waiting for him.

"There will be a big storm tomorrow. You should stay in your home." you said as he sat down on the edge beside you.

"How do you know, the fish told you?" he was joking but you had a serious expression, it was no joke.

"Not with words though. They swim differently when there is a change, which means a big storm."

"Will you be fine?"

"Of course. My cave is safe." he nodded.

"I won't see you tomorrow then."

"The day after, you will." you smiled before jumping into the water. "Stay safe," you said before swimming down.

Simon found himself watching the water after you left for longer each time.

---

The next day, it was indeed a huge storm with a strong wind.

Simon could hear the waves from his home.

He just hoped that you were safe.

Storms underwater are very different.

You felt the change in the weather, you felt the waves.

You worried for Simon.

You don't know what got into you, swimming out in such a storm was a terrible idea.

But your gut told you to go.

As you came to the surface even you struggled with the waves, thankfully there was no sign of him.

You wanted to head back to your cave when another wave pushed you and soon, you were too close to the beach. A huge wave pushed you against a rock which knocked you out.

You woke up on the sand with a terrible headache.

You sat up and looked around, you needed to head back to the water, you spent too much time out of it, your tail disappeared and now you had legs.

Legs you couldn't use and you were completely nude.

Instead of panicking, you took a deep breath.

You always knew that you could have legs, you could have learned and lived amongst the humans, you just chose not to.

You looked behind you and saw Simon's house.

With extremely wobbly feet, you walked over. But as soon as you stood up, you felt a pain in your ankle. You let out a groan as you continued, leaning against anything that came your way for support.

You stopped by the door and tried to open it but failed.

"I told you I'm not buying anything from you!" his voice came from inside and you wanted to laugh.

He thought you were someone else, the annoying man who came by every month, trying to sell him things.

"Too bad, I have great shells to sell." you replied as you tried the handle again. The door suddenly opened and you nearly fell inside. Thankfully you were leaning against the doorframe. "I think I broke my ankle."

Simon's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Since when do you have ankles?!" he asked as he scooped you up and walked you inside his house.

He put you on his couch before leaving for his bedroom, he grabbed some clothes and helped you put them on.

"You have a nice home."

"Since when do you have legs?"

"I always did, once I completely dry, I-"

"Why did you let yourself dry?"

"I didn't. Last night I got worried that something happened to you, so I swam up but the waves were too strong. I got washed out of the water and knocked out."

"You could have died."

"Why? I can't drown."

"What if someone saw you?"

"No one lives here but you. The man you complain about lives in the village near the mountain, he comes to the beach to collect shells." he finally looked into your eyes and you lifted your hand and placed your palm against his cheek.

"I will take you back to the Ocean. It is where you belong." he said as he stood up and walked into his kitchen.

"I belong with you." you said once he returned.

"You don't want to. I'm a terrible man."

"It can't be that bad."

"I killed people, for the King. I was one of his knights."

"Okay, so?"

"You are perfect. Your hair, your skin, your eyes, your shape, your tail... everything about you is perfection. You are so pure, I don't deserve something so pure."

"You told me you have felt a pull towards the Ocean ever since you were a child."

"So, you will tell me that I was drawn to it because of you? I was drawn because I had an abusive father who drank and beat me, not because of a fairy tale." he moved closer to you, it made you grab the silver around his neck. He could see the anger in your eyes as you stood up.

"What happened to you is terrible yes, however fairy tales keep people hoping, keep people going, believing. You rather see the dark in the world and people but what did you see in me? What made you come into the sea, day after day? What made you buy a house here? I was ready to give up the Ocean, give up my tail so I can be with you, but it looks like I misjudged you." you snapped the dog tags off of his neck. He was too stunned to speak or to move. "I love you. And I know you know that I love you. You can keep running away, calling yourself a monster, stuck in your past, crying over it." you walked out of his house, it took a moment for Simon to follow you, by the time he rushed after you, you were gone, he only saw the ripple in the water.

He reached up and touched his neck where you took the silver from.

You took a piece of him with you.

---

You cried your heart out.

You weren't even sure anymore why you took the necklace.

Simon Riley Knight Lieutenant 141

You looked at the engraved letters for hours. The pain in your chest never subdued.

A couple of days later, you heard his ship, the unmistakable noise of the metal and wood was loud and clear. You swam up.

"Are you here? Can you hear me? How does one reach a mermaid?!" he grew frustrated within the minute. "If you can hear me, I'm sorry. I truly think you are too pure for me. Every night, when I fell asleep I saw the blood, the bodies and the horrible things I had done. But not lately. Lately, ever since I met you, I dreamt of you. Your beauty and your scales, your smile and your excitement when I talked with you. I love you too. It's just... I'm afraid I will ruin you, I'm afraid that I will make you miserable. I cannot let myself ruin such an amazing thing like you." you heard him drop to the floor, you moved and pulled yourself up against the side, you found him sitting across from you, looking at the floor, you threw the necklace at him, it landed in front of him and he quickly looked up and looked at you.

"You have bad excuses. I forgot I have a tendency to lure men with my song and then drown them for fun. I'm not as pure as you say. I stole things from people, I sleep in a cave filled with gold and things I took. I stole men's hearts, making them fall in love and follow me into the dark depths of the water. I didn't know humans found their pasts so... important."

"You are right. I shouldn't find it so important. But I'm afraid I will end up like him." he said as he picked up the silver and ran his thumb along the letters.

"How many people did you help? When you were a knight, how many did you help?"

"I don't know."

"A few? A lot?"

"Probably a lot."

"Then why not think of them instead of the bad?" you had a point and he knew it.

After a minute of silence, you pulled yourself up and onto his deck, you crawled over to him, he pulled you into his chest, hooking his arm under your tail, he held you close as his head moved to your neck.

He took a deep breath.

"Can I still have you?" he asked and you ran your hand from his chest to his neck.

"I think you always had me. Even before we met. You might not, but I sure believe in fate." he squeezed you tighter as you moved your nose into his hair and smelled it.

"I cannot give you a bed of gold, but I can offer you my humble little cottage. I wouldn't force you to live like a human, stay a mermaid, please." he pulled back and you looked into his eyes.

"Then how would we make love?" his eyes widdened as you smiled and kissed his lips.

It felt so right.

So right to be with him, so right to kiss him and become his.

And you knew, that this was only the beginning of your life with your retired Knight.

A/N: Hi All! I really hope you enjoyed this piece. I left the ending open for potential continuation, let me know if you have any ideas. Please also check out @halcyone-of-the-sea's amazing piece with John Price! I did talk with her and she approved of me writing this piece.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

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DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[pedrointofolklore]

Rosebud

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: carnations bloomed when you saw joel. too shy to admit your feelings, but too overcome to not, you began leaving flowers at his doorstep. 

warnings: very brief but graphic depictions of violence, mentions of death/grief, tragic backstory, emotional processing, reader is a loser who falls in love in two seconds, lots of metaphorical language, swearing, mostly just self-indulgent fluff, joel is soft, big age gap (reader is in late 20s), no smut, no use of y/n (reader has a nickname), jackson era.

word count: 6k

a/n: hey y’all. i’m delving into the world of fanfiction writing and i’m tentatively posting this as my first story. this story by @army-author is what inspired me here—i read it years ago and loved the concept ever since. i also super don't know much about flower gardening so apologies for any inaccuracies.

Your earliest memory was sitting in the garden with your mother one September. You were small then, no more than three years old, covered in soil and some residual stickiness from whatever fruit you’d just devoured, watching with a curious eye as your mother pruned her roses.

When you thought of her, you thought of that garden. In your memories, it was a labyrinth. Flowers, shrubs and vines overflowed the yard. You used to fear getting lost in the brambles, but at some point, you started to crave their thorny embrace.

It was a pink rose, so bright and intense, like a painting come to life. She shed the thorns, tucked it behind your ear and pinched your chubby cheeks. That was the first time she called you ‘Rosebud.’ Nobody ever called you anything else.

You couldn’t have known then that you were just a few Septembers away from losing her.

She died on the first day, in the centre of the garden. Your lasting memory of her was your father driving a pair of garden shears into her jugular. She collapsed to the ground, blood as dark as a crimson rose pooled around her as your father wept over her lifeless body. You sprinted inside and threw up.

She died a stranger. You didn’t understand what was happening to her then, but you understood that she was gone before the shears even entered her neck.

It haunted you for the next twenty years—but that person was not your mother. 

Whenever the wound opened, and that memory came flooding back, you closed your eyes and thought of her as she truly was—kind, gentle, passionate. You recalled her soft smile, her musical laugh, the books she read, the flowers she loved.

When you were a kid, you thought of her as the sun that kept those flowers alive. As you grew older, she became the sutures that kept you from falling apart.

You knew your father had no other choice, but you could never quite look at him the same. Still, he was all you had, and he kept you safe until the day he died.

It was your mother’s leather-bound notebook that kept you going. She listed every flower she could think of, and wrote the meaning next to it. That notebook went with you everywhere, all across the country. Every new species you came across, you found it in the book, memorised its meaning, and crossed it off your mental checklist.

Flower seeking had to be the most frivolous thing one could do at the end of the world, but it kept you close to your mother, and gave you some semblance of purpose. Each new flower felt like something blooming inside you—your own secret garden that grew from the depths of your soul.

Carnations bloomed when you saw Joel.

He first came to Jackson in December with a girl by his side. They were gone by the next morning, but you saw him. He was coming out of the bar, tugging his coat back on when you spotted him through the crowd of carolling townspeople.

Even from a distance, you noticed the pain in him—a pain similar to yours. There was a wistfulness in his face, a longing for something he missed, and a fear so intense it seemed paralysing. He clutched at his chest, holding in the marigold that grew where his heart should have been.

You wanted to know him.

He came back that spring with the same girl, and this time, he stayed.

It was a while before you spoke with either of them. Everyone who arrived in Jackson had a tendency to be closed-off at first, and you couldn’t fault them for that. You didn’t know where they’d been or what they’d done, but you knew they’d gone through hell.

You met Ellie first. She came by the greenhouse one day, arms crossed and face vacant. Her reticence might have been mistaken for hostility if you didn’t relate so much.

You tore your soil-covered gloves off and wiped a hand over your cheek, probably just further smudging whatever dirt was caked on there.

“Hi there!” You did your best to sound cheerful, to come across as someone who was definitely okay with unexpected visitors. “What can I do for you?”

“Maria told me you might need some help around here.”

You didn’t think you needed help, and it seemed like the girl wanted to be anywhere but here. But as you pondered her, you started to recognise what she was actually getting at.

She didn’t know what to do, but she needed to do something.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Ellie.”

“Nice to meet you, Ellie.” You held out your hand, which she stared at for a good couple of seconds before shaking. “Call me Rosebud.”

“You’re a florist named Rosebud?” She was incredulous, and you didn’t even care that she was making fun of you—it was the first time you’d seen her smile during this entire interaction.

“It’s a nickname,” you told her, “and I'm more of a floriculturist. If you want to help me out, grab some gloves and a trowel.”

“What the fuck is a ‘trowel’?”

You spent the next few hours with her digging holes in the soil, un-potting flowers and planting them in the ground. As apprehensive as Ellie had been to begin with, it didn’t take her long to warm up to you.

The first thing you learned about her was that she asked a lot of questions.

“Why do we have to move these?”

“It’s spring. They’ll do better in the ground.”

“Why didn’t Maria show us this place when we first came here?”

“It was winter. Half the flowers had gone to shit, so there wasn’t much to see,” you replied, flattening the soil around a sunflower plant.

The greenhouse had been established before you got there. Nobody ran it, it was something for everyone to tend to, but nobody cared enough to do so. The gardeners of Jackson preferred to focus on crops that could actually feed them. But then you arrived, and you knew how to grow a thriving flower garden, and with all the bees it brought, it only helped the agriculture. It also meant that Jackson had honey.

“This one’s cool. What is it?” Ellie asked. You looked over at the plant she was settling into the ground—a grassy little shrub with white flowers blooming at the ends.

“Starwort. It means ‘Welcome to a stranger.’”

“Appropriate,” Ellie said. “I didn’t know flowers had meanings.”

“It’s called floriography,” you replied. “I have a book all about it.”

Ellie stayed until the sun began to set, leaving in much better spirits than she arrived. You were used to working alone, and you thought you preferred it that way, but she turned out to be good company. You sent her home with a starwort blossom and a jar of honey as a thank you, and told her to come back any time. You really hoped she would.

You met Joel the next morning. 

There was a knock at your door, which you expected to be Ellie back again. Instead, you opened the door to find her guardian standing on your front porch.

Your eyes flicked shamelessly over his form. He was broad, strong, with plaid sleeves hiked up to his elbows—you didn’t know it was possible to be attracted to someone’s forearms. His features were beautifully angular, especially his nose. But it was his eyes that really got you. They were dark like coffee, deep and intense. You could fall into them and never stop.

The garden you carried in your soul had never felt more alive. It was weird you hadn’t spoken yet, but you worried if you opened your mouth, the brightest, reddest chrysanthemums would come bursting out.

“Good mornin’. Sorry to bother you,” Joel finally said, with the rehearsed politeness typical of a Southern man. There was still an earnestness to him, like he didn’t quite remember how to do this but he was determined to try. “I think Ellie was here yesterday?”

“That’s right.” You internally cheered when your voice didn’t fail on you. “Is that okay? I know I didn’t get your permission. She just kind of showed up.”

“No, that’s okay. I just came by to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“She's been struggling to…adjust, I guess,” Joel explained, “but she was in a good mood when she came home yesterday. I think being here helped her, so thank you.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say. People silently appreciated what you did for the commune, but nobody had ever gone out of their way to thank you for anything. It was a little overwhelming.

“Well, she’s welcome here any time.” You didn’t think Ellie was particularly interested in gardening, but you could see that the girl just needed to feel busy, and maybe needed some company. You were just glad she could find that with you.

“Thank you,” Joel said again. “What was your name, darlin’?”

“Just call me Rosebud.”

You expected a laugh, a mocking jab of some sort, but instead he just tilted his head and looked at you with complete sincerity. “Pretty. It suits you.”

Your cheeks were embarrassingly warm.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” Joel said. Your heart fell. “It was nice meetin’ you. And, uh, thanks again.”

He started to leave, but you weren’t ready for him to go. Before you could think it through, you called after him, “Wait.”

You might have imagined it, but for a split second after he turned back around, you could've sworn you spotted an eagerness in him, like he was hoping you’d say that.

“You can come inside,” you offered, “if you want.”

He did.

Five minutes later, Joel was standing in your kitchen, leaning against the counter. You could feel his gaze on you as you moved, getting the water ready and setting out two mugs.

“How do you like your coffee?” You were already sure of the answer.

“Black. No sugar.” Yep.

You poured the coffee into a mug, absent-mindedly blowing on it as you handed it to him. He didn’t wait for it to cool down before taking a sip, not even flinching at the heat.

You opted for tea with a generous amount of milk and honey.

“Thanks for the honey as well,” Joel said. “Ellie loves it. She’s never had anything so sweet.”

“That doesn’t surprise me if she grew up in a QZ,” you replied, turning to face him with your mug cradled in both hands. “I think I cried when I first got here and they actually had sugar.”

“When did you get here?”

“Around two years ago. My dad knew Seth—you know, from the bar—got in touch with him, and he told us how to get here,” you explained. You truly hated Seth, but he did save your ass and that left you obligated to be nice.

“Your dad’s not here, is he?” Joel spoke without any particular sentiment. It was an observation, plain and simple. You didn’t mind, you just shook your head. It felt normal to talk about your dad. You missed him, but his death wasn’t horrifically tragic to you—the man had a heart attack.

“What about you? I mean, how’d you end up here?” You were nervous about prying, or accidentally chasing him away before you really got to talk, but Joel had fascinated you since December. You needed to know more.

“I was in the Boston QZ for a while, left to look for my brother, found him.” He wasn’t going to get more detailed than that. Too much had happened that was difficult to talk about, and you could see that, because it was the same for you.

No matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t let yourself ask anything more. You didn’t ask why he’d been here in winter, why he left so soon, why he came back, why he didn’t come sooner if his brother was here, how Ellie fit into all of it. You didn’t ask, and you wouldn’t ask. All you could do was hope he’d open up in time.

It occurred to you just how different Joel looked now than he did in December, and not just because you were actually seeing him up-close. His whole spirit had shifted. Back then, he’d been like an open wound, barely being held together by exposed, bloody tendons that threatened to snap at any moment. He was different now—still wounded, but no longer in pieces.

There was something else in him too. Something dormant, but always on the verge of springing back to life. A quiet guilt.

“Flowers always been your thing?” Joel asked. You were grateful for the subject change.

“Pretty much. I used to know someone who loved them. Made me love them too.”

He nodded with an unexpected softness in his expression. It wasn’t pity, or even sympathy, but a warm kind of understanding.

“I know the flower stuff seems silly,” you said, looking down into the milky beige of your tea, “but it really is useful.”

“I know that,” Joel said. “I don’t think it’s silly.”

You could practically feel your chest split open that very second. Flowers sprouted from your heart, and they bloomed for Joel. They longed to reach out, wrap him up in their stems and vines and pull him into you.

Carnations. Chrysanthemums. Vervain.

You kept your composure until Joel left. You said your farewells, waved him off, shut the door, and immediately collapsed on your couch in a lovestruck heap. It was all so dramatic, the sofa may as well have been a bed of roses.

It wasn’t just that Joel was attractive—and fuck, he was attractive—it was the way he wholly and truly respected you. Respect was something you’d had to earn from everyone else around here, but Joel didn’t need any convincing. He saw your worth right away.

He was all you thought about for the rest of the day, the evening, until you went to bed that night. Even then, your mind wouldn’t stop racing.

These feelings were big, too big. Keeping them inside hurt, but you feared letting them out would be agony. They were safest with you, blossoming into flowers in your soul, where only you knew about them.

But still, you were wide awake, consumed by the urge to do something, say something.

So you got up, pulled your shoes on, went outside and picked a flower from your garden.

Jackson was desolate as you wandered down the street. The only residents awake at this hour were those on patrol. It might have been eerie if you weren’t so wound up. 

You scanned each house as you passed by, looking for Joel’s. Your heart pounded in your chest when you found it. You didn’t need to be so nervous, the lights were off, but you kept imagining someone walking out and catching you in the act. But you’d come this far, and his front door was just a few yards away.

You climbed the stone steps with a quiet urgency, twirling the flower between your fingers one last time before dropping it just outside his door.

A single gardenia.

You were going to leave it at just one flower—you didn’t want to be weird and scare Joel off before you really got to know him. But then Ellie came by the greenhouse again.

“Did you leave a flower on our front porch the other day?” she asked, watering a yarrow seedling.

“What? Why?” You felt so lame, and so stupid for forgetting that Ellie lived there too. Your gesture was bound to get intercepted.

“There was a white flower out there. I showed it to Joel, and we figured it was from you.” It was a very reasonable thing to figure considering it was from you.

“What did Joel say?” you asked, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt.

“He said it was for him.”

“So he took it?”

“Yeah,” Ellie said. “Don’t know what he did with it.”

Ellie wasn’t nearly as invested in this as you were, but it still sounded promising. Joel had accepted the flower, maybe even liked it. The thought made your stomach feel strange, like a bunch of petals were flurrying around in there.

“Well, it was for him…” you mumbled.

Ellie glared at you in feigned outrage. “I’m insulted.”

“What are you complaining about?” you laughed. “I gave you a flower.”

“It’s wilting.”

“Fine then”—you handed her a pair of pruning shears—“go cut yourself a new flower.”

She wandered around the greenhouse for about five minutes and came back spinning a flower between her thumb and index finger. It had pure white petals and a bright yellow pistil. “I chose this daisy.”

“That’s a cosmos,” you corrected. “It represents harmony and balance.”

Ellie assessed the flower in her hand, genuinely mulling over the meaning of it, and you realised how much you appreciated her. She saw value in something you cared about. 

“What did Joel’s mean?” she asked.

“I’m actually not sure about that one.” It was a total lie, but you sounded convincing enough that Ellie shrugged it off and carried on watering flowers.

You couldn’t help yourself after that. Knowing that Joel accepted your gift made you want to do it again. And again.

So you did. Every few days, when you were sure he and Ellie were asleep, you sauntered down to their house and dropped a flower outside the door. An aster, agapanthus, camellia…

Joel never mentioned it, and you never really expected him to, but the nods and soft smiles he gave you when he saw you around were enough to let you know he appreciated you.

But Joel would never know the true meaning of your flowers. It was better that way.

Maria and Tommy’s son was born later in the spring, and your garden had never seen so many visitors. The new parents were practically drowning in congratulatory flower arrangements, and eventually Tommy had to tell you to start turning people away.

One of these visitors happened to be Joel, and he was the one person you couldn’t turn away.

Unlike everyone else, Joel came to your door first. The slight nerves he’d had the first time he came over were gone, but so was the facade of sociability. Maybe this uncouth version of Joel should have irked you, but seeing him comfortable enough to drop the pretence just made you like him more.

“I need help with something,” he said, not even bothering with a hello.

“What is it?”

“A gift for the happy family,” he spoke bitterly, like he was actively trying not to grimace as the words came out.

“Flowers?”

“Flowers seem appropriate.”

Joel was strangely upset for someone who was welcoming their nephew into the world. You didn’t know the story between Tommy and Joel, just that they hadn’t seen each other for years before Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, and that Maria really disliked him.

But despite his sour attitude, it was clear Joel was trying. Whatever was weighing on him, he was pushing it down and choosing to be thoughtful for the sake of his family. Tommy could deal with one more bouquet.

You walked down to the greenhouse with Joel trailing behind you, his hands shoved into his pockets the entire time. On a better day, you would have tried to make conversation with him, but he obviously didn’t need that pressure right now.

He finally spoke up when you arrived at the greenhouse. “This place has seen better days.”

It wasn’t the flowers he was talking about, it was the structure itself. The contractor in him must have noticed the rusted metal pipes holding everything together, the holes and tears in the plastic sheets, and the fact that there was almost no room to walk.

“I know it’s bad,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It was built before I got here. I don’t think they used their finest materials.”

It was always cramped in here, but Joel being so broad and having such a presence made it even worse. He was closer to you now than he’d ever been. He smelled warm, like fresh coffee and leather and musk. It made your head spin.

“So, what kind of flowers are you thinking?” You needed to change the subject before you threw yourself at this man.

“Uh...pink?”

You laughed—you couldn’t help it. He couldn’t have been more vague if he tried.

“Why’s that funny?” He wasn’t mad, but he did seem impatient.

“Sorry,” you said, fighting back a smile. “Maybe you could elaborate on that?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned, running a hand over his prickly beard. “This is why I need help.”

You felt bad for laughing when he was so stressed out. He was overthinking something that should have been simple, and it made your heart ache for him. He was looking for guidance.

“We’ll do peonies for good fortune,” you told him, “and daffodils for new beginnings.”

His shoulders relaxed as some of the tension left him. Whatever was weighing on him was still there, but this was one thing that made it bearable. 

You walked back to your house after cutting the flowers, where there was actually space to work. You expected Joel to leave then, go home and wait until the flowers were ready like everyone else did, maybe even have you deliver them on his behalf, but he stayed by your side.

“How do you know all this stuff?” Joel asked, sitting across the table from you as you worked. “About flowers, I mean.”

You never got into this with anyone, but your inexplicable attachment to Joel compelled you to open up. Whatever pain resided in him reminded you of your own. He understood you.

“My mom had this book. She wrote down the meaning of every flower she knew of, and I guess I’ve memorised it all over the years,” you explained.

Talking about her didn’t hurt like you thought it would. It was actually a relief.

“When did it happen?” You knew what he was asking.

“First day,” you replied.

He nodded solemnly. “Me too.”

This wasn’t the first time you had seen through the gaps in Joel’s armour, but it was the first time he’d made the choice to let you. You didn’t know his limits, if those two words were as deep as he could get, but you wanted to see what would happen if you just asked.

“Joel?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t seem happy about this,” you said, straightforward but still cautious.

“I guess I’m not,” he admitted, looking down pensively.

“Why is that?”

“Just don’t understand bringing a kid into all this.”

You agreed with him. The people of Jackson were as safe as they could be, but outside the walls were infected, raiders, FEDRA, and a multitude of horrors too awful to speak of. It would only take one mistake for Jackson to be completely wiped out. You wouldn’t want to bring a child into a world like that either.

But you also knew that most people who had kids post-outbreak hadn’t done it by choice.

“It’s not as if people have access to birth control,” you pointed out, stacking peonies onto a piece of tissue paper. “But I don’t disagree.”

“It’s just a lot for me to wrap my head around,” Joel continued—or maybe he was starting on a completely different train of thought. “Tommy’s the uncle. He’s always been the uncle. I’m…“

He couldn’t say it. He didn’t have to.

“You still are,” you told him. “Tommy’s still an uncle.”

Joel was silent, letting your words sink in. It was cold comfort, and maybe you shouldn’t have said it, but it was what you believed.

“Why do people call you Rosebud?” The question took you aback. It was completely unrelated, yet felt so important. He was the first person in twenty years to ask you that question.

“My mom came up with it when I was little. It’s what everyone’s called me since.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Joel asked. “Seems like a constant reminder of what you lost.”

It was hard having to live without her, but you never wanted to forget what you lost. “I guess I like the reminders.”

His hand absent-mindedly fell to the broken watch on his wrist, and for a fleeting moment, you were seeing the man you first saw in December. An open wound. Marigold.

“She didn’t stop being my mom,” you said quietly. “I didn’t stop being her daughter.”

And as quickly as the wound opened, it was once again sewn shut. He even managed a smile. “You’re wise, kid. You know that?”

Kid.

Ouch.

It felt like a kick to the stomach. In an instant, the carnations that bloomed when you first saw Joel all those months ago, that had been so red and vibrant, faded into yellow.

You held yourself together until he left. You finished arranging the flowers, wrapped them up, handed them over to him, said goodbye and wished him luck, then trudged over to the couch and flopped down onto it—this time in a dejected heap.

It wasn’t as if you thought you had much of a chance with Joel, but this just felt so awfully final. It didn’t matter that you were basically thirty years old—in his mind, you were a kid.

It was embarrassing. You thought about the flowers you left—a quiet admission of feelings—and prayed the couch would swallow you whole and suffocate you. 

You’d gotten it all wrong. Joel never appreciated it. He probably thought it was weird and pathetic but didn’t have the heart to tell you. You wondered why he even accepted the initial flower, and if you weren’t feeling so spurned and humiliated, it might have dawned on you that you were overreacting.

You still left a flower that night, if only to get some closure. It would be the last one you ever left him.

A red tulip.

Joel came to your door one day in July.

You’d come to expect Ellie on your front porch at least once a week, but Joel wasn’t a surprise either. You were friends now, even after such an embarrassing rejection.

Joel still never mentioned the flowers. He was probably relieved when you stopped leaving them and wanted to pretend it never happened, and that was fine by you.

Being friends didn’t help matters though. He was always rough and grumpy in his Joel way, but he was sweet too. So sweet. It felt impossible to move on.

“Hey, Joel,” you said. “Need help with something?”

“I wanted to help you, actually.”

“Me?”

“I can’t keep lookin’ at that greenhouse,” Joel said. “It’s a piece of shit.”

You had to laugh at his honesty. “You want to patch it up?”

“Was thinking of taking the whole thing apart and rebuildin’ it.”

The offer stunned you. It was so generous and so out of nowhere. Your first instinct was to say no, that it wasn’t worth the trouble, but something stopped you. It was Joel coming to you in earnest and saying he wanted to help. It felt like an insult to deny him.

You smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay.”

“When can I get started?” he asked.

Shit. You had dozens of flower pots you didn’t know what to do with. “Uh, I’ll have to empty the greenhouse first. I guess I'll bring the flowers here in the meantime.”

“Ellie and I can help with that,” Joel said. “I’ll go get her.”

You blinked at him. “Now?”

“You got other plans?”

You absolutely did not. “Ah, no. Now is good.”

“Great.”

That was how you spent your day, lugging flower pots from the greenhouse and unloading them in your front yard with Joel and Ellie in tow. It was so lovely it bordered on being painful—pink roses unshed of their thorns pierced your heart.

You let yourself imagine for a moment that this was reality. That you, Joel and Ellie were a weird, happy family. The carnations in your soul had never been more yellow, and you instantly regretted indulging in that particular fantasy.

Joel was already at the greenhouse when you went there the next morning. He was up on a ladder, and half of the structure was already torn down. Rusted metal pipes and discoloured, ripped up plastic sheets were piling up a few feet away.

“Need any help?” you called out.

He looked down at you and smiled—a real, wide smile you hadn’t seen on him before. “You know what you’re doin'?”

“Not really.”

“Then, no,” he replied. “Don’t want you droppin’ anything on that pretty little head.”

Huh?

You flushed all over, wishing your couch was here so you could collapse onto it. Less than two months ago he was calling you a kid, and now he thought your head was pretty. The thought crept in that maybe he was purposely messing with you, but you liked Joel too much to entertain the idea.

“Well, I probably can’t help with the physical labour,” you said, cursing how nervous your voice sounded. “But if there’s anything else…”

“You’re a sweet one, Rosebud,” Joel said. He had to be doing this on purpose. “You just let me do my thing, and we’ll leave it a surprise.”

You laughed. “In other words, you’re telling me to get lost?”

He grinned at you fondly. “Just trust me.”

It only took one exchange for that hope to come back to life. You tried to stop it, tell yourself he was just teasing, that he didn’t mean it that way, but it was too late. Those carnations were already morphing back into a searing red.

You wanted to come by everyday and watch him work, but you stayed away and waited for him to come to you. It only took a few days for him to show up at your door, looking infuriatingly hot covered in blotches of sage green paint.

“Is it ready?” you asked.

“It’s ready.”

You followed along behind him, keeping your eyes down so you didn’t accidentally spot the new greenhouse before he was ready for you to look. You ended up just ogling his ass, which was a decidedly better and much more pinch-able sight than the ground.

“Look now.”

You lifted your gaze, and your hands flew up to your mouth as you let out a dramatic gasp.

It wasn’t just good, it wasn’t just an improvement, it was beautiful—masterfully pieced together with timber and painted the same sage green that Joel was sporting on his clothes. And it was bigger. There would actually be space for you to walk around inside.

Joel started to panic from beside you, and you realised you were crying. “Is it the green? I can repaint it if you hate it.”

You seemed to have lost the power of speech to reassure him, so instead, you threw your arms around him and held tight. The suddenness of it shocked him, and his hands found your waist. You weren’t sure if he was about to push you away or pull you in.

“So, you like it?” he asked.

“I love it,” you snivelled into his shoulder. “Thank you, Joel.”

He hugged you back then, caging you in with his big arms and making you feel so safe. You felt a prickly sensation on your temple as he brushed his lips against it. 

Red tulips were threatening to burst out of you in droves. You didn’t want to let go, but you were seconds away from making a confession you couldn’t take back if you spent too much longer in his embrace.

You pulled yourself away, and even with the sun beating down on you, you missed his warmth.

He walked you back home, came inside when you offered him iced tea (you were out of coffee), drank it all even if it was too sweet for him, and all you could do was thank him repeatedly for what he’d done.

“Don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I wanted to do this for you.”

What did that mean?

“I’m sorry I never said anything,” Joel continued, a pink flush apparent on his cheeks.

“About what?” You knew exactly what.

“The flowers. I wanted to thank you, but I didn’t know how. I’m not used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“Kindness.” He almost winced, like it hurt to say.

“It was weird. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t weird,” Joel assured you. “It was…nice. Bummed me out when you stopped.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I get it.”

You didn’t know what to say at this point. You didn’t want to be talking about any of it, and you were about to tell him that, ask him to move on from this, until he decided to put you on the absolute spot.

“What did they mean?”

Fuck. “Hm?”

“The flowers,” he said. “You said flowers have meaning. What did they mean?”

“I actually don’t know those ones.” That harmless little lie worked on Ellie, but Joel saw right through it.

“Why are you lying to me?” He didn’t even sound angry or annoyed, just genuinely curious, and a little sympathetic.

You considered doubling-down, insisting you didn't know, but you couldn’t do that him. It was a vulnerable conversation for not only you, but Joel as well. You understood how hard this was for him, and you cared for him too much to shut him down.

But you couldn’t say it, not verbally. Instead, you grabbed the notebook that was laying on your coffee table and held it out to him. There was a split second as he was reaching for it where you imagined yourself tugging it back out of his reach, forgetting about this entire thing, but then it was in his hands and it was too late. Nothing would ever be the same.

You held your breath as he flipped through it, his eyes flicking over the words. His face gave nothing away, but his finger was tracing over something.

Red tulip - declaration of love. 

He gently shut the book and set it down, and your eyes stayed firmly on the floor, hoping if you stared at it long enough it would split open and consume you.

“Are you surprised?” You couldn’t project your voice above a whisper.

“I guess not,” Joel said. It was the honest answer, and the one you most expected. “I thought you were just bein’ nice, then Ellie kept insisting you were interested.”

That girl was smarter than you gave her credit for—and you already thought she was very smart.

“I thought there was no way,” Joel continued. “You’re sweet and young and so pretty. I’m just an old man.”

“I don’t care how old you are,” you replied.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things...”

“I don’t care what you’ve done. I care who you are now.”

You were looking at him now. He looked moved, rapt, and not at all like someone about to deliver a devastating rejection.

“And you want me?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause where neither of you said anything, but the air was thick with an unspoken question: Where do we go from here?

“Can I kiss you, Rosebud?”

You nodded, and he did. It felt like dozens of chrysanthemums, camellias and carnations all springing to life under your skin.

He was gentle in a way you never could have imagined, cupping your cheek with his palm and holding your waist with the other. It was reminiscent of the hug you’d shared earlier, and you wondered if he’d wanted to kiss you then.

His lips were rough, a little chapped, but soft in the way he moved them. This wouldn’t be how he always kissed, you were sure of that. Someday it would be messy, frantic, all-consuming. But this careful, slow movement of his lips against yours was all you needed right now. 

He wanted to be gentle with you, because he cherished you like a rosebud.

flower translations:

rose (pink) - perfect happiness

rose (dark crimson) - mourning

carnation (red) - admiration

marigold - grief, despair

starwort - welcome to a stranger

chrysanthemum (red) - i love you

vervain - enchantment

gardenia - you’re lovely

yarrow - healing

aster - symbol of love

agapanthus - secret love

camellia (pink) - longing for you

peony - prosperity

daffodil (bunch) - new beginnings, hope, good luck

carnation (yellow) - rejection, disappointment

tulip (red) - declaration of love

rosebud (red) - pure, lovely

[echantedtoon]

Valtor x Reader Oneshot

A nightly visitor visits his lover once more.

The darkness of night was always dangerous to those whom did not heed the warnings of the monsters whom lurked within the abyss and shadows.

The woman knew that more than anyone else very well. Often finding herself confined within it's hold. Innocence ensnared like a bird within it's cage. Singing it's innocent melodies despite being condemned to be surrounded by cold iron bars. Forever ongoing. Swirling, swirling around 

The sun sank beneath the horizon to make way for his sister the moon to take her rightful place upon her throne of darkness surrounded by her army men of stars and comets. 'Cone out!' She cried out to her dark children that hid from the light. 'My brother and his infernal light is gone. Once more come out to greet your mother and wreck discord upon thine earth. Have your fun dancing in my gentle glow and bask in the darkness that I reign upon as I watch over you.' The monsters woul answer their mother's cries. Dancing. Reigning havoc over the darkness. Bringing entropy to every household they manage to invade. 

A fire warmed up the skin as your lazy eyes watched the dancing flames in the pit. The flickering lights casted dancing shadows the lonely still walls. They frolicked in tune with their own rythme in their own universe. However the warmth of the fire kept your body warm and toasted from the cold outside. No doubt crawling with monsters and demons of the abyss walking forth towards you with every step they took. In tune with every breath you took. But you didn't mind. Infact within the darkness the maiden embraced their outstretched embrace. 

Step. Step. Step.

Closer and closer.

Breaths of sins clawed their way from a maw that swallowed more innocent lives than the mind cared to remember. Smiling at a wicked whom remembered or a sinful taste that it could still taste on the malicious tongue. Running the muscle along fangs sharp and destined to rip magic from mere soul. However the sins of that life would be forgotten in exchange for the comfort of innocence that the night allowed him to have once every moon. Footsteps soft yet loud enough to echo through the darkness and approaching fast the house with remaining light. Light that offered warmth and comfort but not protection.

F/c eyes opened slightly and turned. A door normally provided comfort and protection was no match for the class that ensnared it and pushed it open allowing the night and shadows to spill inside. The sinful, wicked smile was delighted to see the one of innocent happiness smiling back to her.

"Well now. Hello, Beautiful.~ Do you mind if I come in and warm myself by your fire?"

A giggle all too sincere made the monster's undead heart beat against his own ribcage in anticipation of her answer.

"Come right in, Sir. Heaven knows how cold the night must be for you."

The monster did not hesitate given the permission. Coming inside to receive his reward for the sinful deeds he had done in the form of an embrace of the warmth she gave. The embodiment of darkness was enticing to say the least. Especially with herself entangled within his grip. It felt...

c o l d.

So cold, so frightening. Yet so familiar. The blood ran cold yet so warm upon the strong arms around her. Eyes deeply staring through the soul wriggling, squirming in its hold. Gleaming  teeth beside the eyes in a smile that was promising sin yet a love no one else gave. There for her, the one caught up into the grip of the night. the only thing they could do for them was finish them off — even if it was they who would have to suffer then.

"It's been far too long. You have no idea what you do to me. Making me feel things a sinner like me has no right being happy to have."

Neither spoke for a long moment just staring into each other's eyes before a cold hand reached out to run his knuckles along her chin causing her to shiver before leaning into that hand that switched to caressing the soft warm flesh. A strong arm pulled her forward until they were chest to chest. His sinful freeze and her innocent warm glow. A sturdy arm held her close, the other cracked the back of her head gently as worlds apart connected in the ultimate declaration of affection between two partners.

Lines were blurring. Obsession with love. Madness within clarity. Starvation of touch with longing of burning loneliness. Passion and poison. Breaths were warm despite his cold body. Eyes soft despite their own desire filled look. Grip firm but restrained so much it hurts him how cautious he was being to not harm. Her soft skin burnt him! It burnt, it burnt-

It lit up his soul with unresolved longing he was never able to fulfill like this with anything else in his life.

He pulled her closer deepening the connection for a blissful moment before slowly pulling away just a smidge. Their lips still touching as warm breath gently caressed his face as his dark eyes looked back in narrowing into possessive slits. Words whispered against lips as he spoke.

"You really shouldn't really be letting me come back over and over. It's addicting... Intoxicating to me to not have you right where I need you. My mind clears when you are the only thing it can think about."

A shiver ran over her body so close and it sent a smile against her lips from him. It pleased him so.

"Maybe I like it when you only think about me though. Would you really leave me even if I were to dismiss you?"

Whispered murmurs against lips. Close as lovers could ever be. Arms around each other's bodies like a whirlwind would pull them away. Eyes closing with one last murmur against her lips.

"No. But I don't mind if you took my body and soul because you already have my sanity. Now love me. Love me like I'm going to die."

[redheadspark]

Hello! I am a creeper who LOVES your work! I have had this idea for an Az fic, but as I am not a writer, I cannot do it justic!

So its an Azriel x Reader. They both have a thing for each other but obvi neither know about it, but the whole Inner circle know . So the inner circle are having fun and some shenanigans happen, and somebody asks the reader about the person that she likes. Reader gets flustered, Az gets ✨jealous✨ and says screw it and kisses the reader. Im talking the kind of kiss that makes you forget everything and your brain melt. Lots of fluff, some angst because they are silly and maybe some smut at the end? 😎😎😎

Youre incredible!

Happy New Year!

A/N - HOORAY! I am so sorry for writing this BEYOND late, I'm battling a sinus infection and was in no mood to write when I was hurting, but I finally finished it and I hope you like it!

Intertwined

Warnings - Fluff with a some smut towards the end, so 18+ for this one!

“Okay, now that we have the presents out of the way, I think we should move onto a hot topic,”

“And what would that be?”

“A certain person’s love life,” 

You saw several pairs of eyes looking over at you as you were mid-sip with your glass of wine.  It suddenly felt like you were the topic of conversation, much to your dismay as you slowly lowered your wine glass down and stared at the others that were gazing at you.  As if you weren’t in on the joke.  Perhaps you weren’t, and clutching your wine glass a bit too tightly you looked to your right to see Nesta grinning at you.

“Nesta…..what’s going on?” You asked her tentatively as she linked arms with you.

“Nothing at all,” She replied smoothly as she gave you her signature smirk, “We are just inquiring about your personal life since you never tell us, your friends and found family, anything about your love life,”  

Of course, this was not how the night was going to go.  It was the Annual Winter Solstice Party amongst the Inner Circle in Velaris, the second one you have been a part of since you were the newest member of the Inner Circle.  Nesta became fast friends with you when she walked into your little bookstore, striking up a conversation with you about new books that caught her attention.  

You showed her a few titles, and you two have been friends ever since. 

After Nesta came her mate Cassian, the suave and yet kind Commander of the Illyrian Army.  He was dragged in by his mate, amused at the sight of Nesta almost sprinting to the New Arrivals section and he hung back and started a conversation with you.  You liked his attitude, the calm to Nesta’s storm, the sun to her moodiness, and he almost seemed like a lovable younger brother to you.  

Not too long after that, you were surprised to see Nesta again, but she was not alone.  She brought along both the High Lord and the High Lady of Night Court.  It never occurred to you that she was sisters with High Lady Feyre, to which you were beyond entranced to meet her.  Feyre was beyond kind, wishing to find art books and some other novels for her.  High Lord Rhsyand was more curious about the historical novels you had, along with adventurous fiction pieces to help him pass the time.  

You gave him a great recommendation, and your life was forever changed.

Rhysand hired you to help fill his personal library with books from the bookstore, paying you handsomely for your assistance and recommendations.  You were shocked to see the mass sum he placed in your hands, to which you were able to not only get more books for the store but to get a bigger apartment for yourself since you were living in a cramped hole in the hall.  After stocking his library with novels and volumes in every genre that he could ever want, Rhysand kept you in the Inner Circle.  Being alone for some time and having to survive with no one to lean on, it felt surreal to have a new family.  

A support system, and lifelong friends, it overwhelmed your heart tenfold. 

Nesta brought you around the first Winter Solstice party with the Inner Circle, you were wearing a modest yet captivating dress.  You were beyond nervous to meet the rest of her friends, but Nesta reassured you that you were going to mesh well with the group.  So when you and Nesta walked in together and you saw the rest of the guests, you felt so small compared to the rest of the beings there.

Especially with Azriel, the Illyrian Spymaster.

He took your breath away from the moment you saw him perched by the fireplace.  He cool demeanor contrasted with the roaring fire, the brooding stare he had on his face, and even the small licks of shadows that were hovering against his body and his wings that were tucked tight against his backside.  Nesta spoke plenty about him and his duties for Night Court, Being the Spymaster of Rhysand and seeking out information from other courts.  To anyone else, he would be intimidating and almost frightening to gaze at.

But not to you, you weren’t frightened at all.

Nesta introduced you two, walking you over to him and saying your name to him.  He simply stared at you, you seeing the bright hazel eyes he had brightening from the cracking fire as he held out his hand for you to shake.  You took it instantly, feeling the warmth of his hand and the scars that were etched along his skin as well.  

“Pleasure to see you,” He said to you, his voice deep and soothing like a balm against a fresh wound.  It felt it along your own skin, the tremor of his tone and how he was gazing at you with both intrigue and interest.  You couldn’t help but smile, something inside of you told you not to be afraid of him.  No matter that he could be a killer or someone who brings torture.  That’s not what you felt in that moment shaking his hand, and you always relied on your intuition in the past. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” You said to him, and you saw him smile.  It was the most beautiful smile you have ever seen from another being in your life.

Since then, you have been taken by him.  The way he walked into a room and was cool and collected, how he would conduct himself in conversation and with the others in the Inner Circle.  Although you never saw with your own eyes how he would conduct himself in meetings or during his missions, you knew he was someone not to be trifled with.  But then again, anytime you two were in the same room, he showed none of those. 

He was introverted at best, willing to watch from a distance as the rest of the group would joke and chit-chat.  But he was also consistent in his opinions and banter with Rhysand and Cassian, showing the long relationship he has had with them.  You admired it all the more, seeing the love they shared for one another, not to mention the kindness that was laced with his stubbornness and determination.  

Something drew you to him, like a moth to a flame, wishing to discover him more and more as you two became friends over time. He never minded talking with you, wishing to know more about your knowledge of books and history and even coming to your shop every once in awhile to purchase something for himself.  He looked over very book that intrigued him, taking his time with the purchase that he wanted to do.  It showed that he was not going to waste his time in anything he did, he took precision and never jumped to chance.

Another trait that drew you in more with Azriel was his attention to detail.  He could analyze a person for a certain amount of time and get more information about them than anyone else can do.  It was a true gift, one you wish you had since his ability was more advanced.  He knew the precise information to give to Rhysand, the right paints to gift Feyre for her birthday, even the exact number of soldiers to tell Cassian in one of their Illryain training sessions.  It was his way in showing that he cared for the other person, listening to them and picking up and what they would say in passing.

He did that with you one time in the summer, hearing you talk with Mor about a broken window pane at the shop and some creaking floorboards that were on the verge of snapping.  You were mostly venting to her, knowing that you were going to have to fix it yourself since you weren’t going to overpay someone to fix it.  But the next morning, you heard Azriel knocking on your door with some tools in hand.  

“You don’t have to fix it for me, Azriel.  Honestly, I can—“

“It’s not trouble for me.  Better for you to be safe than an injury happening,”

He fixed the floorboards and the window pane within a few hours, you paying him with a homemade lunch and you two perched on the front porch of the bookstore gossiping about Cassian and Nesta’s upcoming wedding.  You hear him laugh from a comment you made, a whole-hearted laugh with his eyes crinkling and his teeth glistening in the sun, making you fall for him harder.

As the months passed, your friendship deepened and your crush on Azriel was still present, but it was placed on the back burner.  It felt like a fever dream for you to be on the same platform as him, only seeing yourself as a bookkeeper and nothing more important than that.  Azriel had power, he had a past of using that power on others to gain knowledge and intelligence.  His cool demeanor and uneasy stature would make others flee and run away, but you felt closer to him than anyone else in the Inner Circle.  Even with Nesta, who would tease you about how you two would be perfect together.  But of course, you would push those possibilities and dreams away with a wave of your hand.

“I don’t think he would be interested in someone like me,”

“Like who?!  Someone kind, intelligent, and beautiful from the inside out?  I think he would, and he would be a fool to think otherwise,”

Leave it to Nesta to build you up when you feel low.

This led you to this night, a snowstorm roaring outside the Townhouse while you were all sitting together in one of the casual sitting rooms.  With all eyes on you, you were still looking at the wine glass in hand as you were now the center of conversation.

“My love life is…..complicated to say the least,” you said aloud to the group, all of whom were simply smiling as you spoke again, “I am interested in someone, but nothing past that,”

“Oh, do tell!” Elaine said in glee as she was perched on a loveseat with her Mate, Lucien.  Feyre and Rhsyand too seemed interested, wrapped in each other’s arms while Cassian was grinning widely from his perch in an armchair.  You didn’t see Azriel, who was over on the other side of the room leaning against the wall, clutching his whiskey glass in a death grip as his hazel eyes were drilling into your own orbs.

“I doubt she wants to talk about it in a room filled with gossipers,” Cassian joked as Nesta glared at her mate.

“As if any of this will leave the Townhouse,” Feyre countered with him, though she gave you a knowing look, “You don’t need to tell us if you don’t want to.  I know how secretive you are,”

“Yes, she does!” Nesta said with a smirk as she clinked her wine glass with yours, “I know you far too well, and you are in need of some love in your life.  So tell us, what is he like?”

“Or she,” Rhysand hummed, though you rolled your eyes, “I’m only leaving it open, who are we to judge?”

“It is a male,” you corrected, seeing some smiles all around as you blushed.  Once again, without you knowing it, Azriel was standing so still as he was drinking in this information of you being smitten by someone else.  It was making his cool demeanor almost snap.  You had no idea that he was fuming inside, the thought of another capturing your heart and making you feel loved and adored, the notion that another could take you away from him and leave him high and cry.  

He was using all of his willpower to not stalk across the room to claim you as his, having months of practice in him pining over you and wishing you to be his.  

He found you infectious to his soul, whether it was your laugh or your smile that made your freckles pop and your face light up in joy.  He would find reasons to visit you at your little shop, just to talk to you for minutes at a time because it would fill up his soul with hope and love he missed out on for years.  Azriel thought of you as beautiful in both image and in heart, a shining ray of light in his dark world.  Yet he knew deep down he had to be careful, letting in people who were close to him would automatically link them to his dangerous life and his dangerous job.  The last thing he would ever want is to bring potential danger to someone he loved.  

It would kill him to bring you harm, the one person he would face danger for.

“All I will say is that this male is someone I feel will not wish to be with someone like me,” You said to the group with a shrug, Nesta rolling her eyes as Elaine looked at you almost in remorse.

“You speak so low of yourself!  You are far too beautiful and intelligent for any male to pass on,” Feyre reasoned with you as she smiled sweetly at you, “That male is a fool to pass you by,”

“You are a catch,” Cassian agreed, then throwing up his hands in defense, “And I say that as a friend!”

“And I agree with my mate,” Nesta said to you, “I find males who cannot make up their minds on what they want to be fools,”

“Babe,” Cassian sighed as she gave him a knowing look.

“You are no longer a fool, sweetheart,” She said to him as she winked at him before looking back at you, “Your heart is far too sweet and far too kind for any male, no matter how they are, to simply cast by.”

Perhaps it was the one thing that Azriel needed to hear, the one phrase that made him throw out the rational side that he was trying to hold onto.  The thought of some other male casting her side, or using her as a pawn in their game, it made his blood boil.  The affection he felt for you over the year grew day after day, and it got to the point of it coming to a head at any moment.  No matter the scenarios he played in his head in how he would ask you to dinner or to an outing in the park, nor the talks he confided in with Cassian in how he wished to talk to you about his affections for you.  All of that was out of the window.

He had to act, and he did just that.  

He moved before he could stop his feet, walking across the room with his eyes on you like you were a target for his mission.  Everyone was floored by how fast he was moving, you were almost spooked by the way he walked swiftly and his shadows were attempting to catch up to him.  He took your hand in his own, making you stand up from your spot on the loveseat and look at him with shock and worry.

“Azriel? What is—“ you were about to ask him.  But he instantly silenced you, reaching up to frame your jaw in his hand as he kissed you.

Nothing else mattered, everything ceased to exist, and you felt your heart bursting.

His lips, soft and yet firm in how he was kissing you, ingested a fire in you as you were still frozen in your spot and in his embrace.  The thoughts and daydreams of kissing Azriel were all out the window since this was real, breathing in his cologne and the scent that was etched on his skin and feeling his body temperature mingle with yours.  The way he kissed you was both gentle and possessive, maybe he was claiming you as his and at the same time wishing to show his affection to you.  Either way, you were filled with love with that simple kiss, filled to the point of almost overflowing, and then some.  

Before he could pull away, thinking he made a huge mistake in kissing you in front of all of your closest friends in such a brave declaration, you kissed him back.  He heard the others intake a short breath from the gesture, your fingers reaching up to touch the front of his shirt to feel his rapid heartbeat that was threatening to burst out of his body. His mind was on overdrive, not believing what was occurring.  You kissed him, and the gentle kiss against his lips unleashed a new sensation deep within him that he never felt for another.  Affection, protection, possession, and most importantly love.

He loved you.  Cauldron he loved you. 

It didn’t occur to either you or Azriel that the rest of the room was watching on bated breath, both in shock and in pure happiness as you two finally pulled away from one another and gazed at each other.  The realization of what happened sunk in, but in the best way possible.  There was a glow about the two of you, almost like a new shade of emotion over the pair of you like a blanket to shield you from the rest of the world.  Azriel smiled, in which you grinned in return as he laced your fingers together and gulped.

“Come with me,” he said, you nodding without you realizing it.  He then moved, having you follow him like a puppy as he led the two of you out towards the hallway.  Yet he looked over his shoulder at the rest of the group, all of whom were still looking in shock at what happened.

“Thank you for the party,” he said abruptly, and then you two walked into the darkness of the hallway before the faint sound of him winnowing was heard.  You both were gone in a second.

Silence was heard in the room, everyone looking at each other.  The only sound heard was the fireplace, but it only took a few solid seconds before Cassian gulped down the last of his whiskey and placed the glass on the mantelpiece.

“Fucking finally!” He said in a sigh of relief, the others grinning as Nesta shot up and glided over to her mate, “I swear to the Cauldron, It took too damn long for them to get together!”

“Aren’t they simply lovely together?” Elaine asked with a sweet grin to Lucien, who nodded at his mate in agreement, “They both deserve to be happy together!”

“It was getting them both to realize it that took too long,” Rhsyand snorted as Feyre slapped his arm, “What?  It’s true!  Cass and I had a running bet on how long it would take for them to get together.  Which reminds me, you owe me some money, Cassian!”

“Damnit,” Cassian groaned with a rub of his eyes with his fingers as Nesta grinned in victory.

“Well I am glad they finally realize they are meant to be together,” Nesta said with her smile, “Those two are meant to be.  I know they are.”

“To the lovebirds!” Rhsyand announced, raising his glass in the air as the others did as well, “And a life filled with happiness and love for the two souls who deserve it the most out of all of us!”

The group raised their glasses, knowing deep down, that your future together was bright and full.

“Here, for you,”

“Thank you,”  

You sat up in the bed, your bare body covered by the bedsheets as Azriel fell back into bed with you with no care of covering himself up while he handed you a plate filled with some fruits and crackers.  You were blushing like mad as he played kisses along your skin and shoulders, you giggled as he wrapped you in his arms.

“Are you going to let me eat?” You asked in a teasing tone, though he passed and stared lovingly at you.  Just being there, bare and glowing in both bliss and happiness after spending a few hours in pure pleasure and euphoria, it was all life-changing for him.  Even with his hair askew and a thin sheet of sweat on him, there was no sign of fatigue on him.  He was far too happy, too energetic even, to have another moment without you.  After a year of pinning over you and seeing you from an arms’ reach, he would never let you go from now on.  

“Are you willing to share?” He teased back, you rolling your eyes as he fed him a few grapes.  You loved seeing this side of Azriel, the playful and gentle side that you knew was buried deep down under his tough exterior.  But Hours before when he winnowed you both to the House of Wind, pressing you against the wall and kissing you deeply, you were unraveling with no sign of resistance.  If the kiss in front of the Inner Circle erased your mind, the kisses he gave you when you two alone erased your sanity.  He was possessive with his arms around you, his kisses along your neck, and your pulse racing.  

No longer were you two just friends, you both knew it.

He flipped your world upside down, it was no simple fuck.  No, with Azriel, he was precise in how he brought you pleasure and made you moan his name like a prayer.  From the way he undressed your and perched you on the edge of an ottoman at the foot of the bed, to the way he licked your folds with his wicked tongue and made you watch his lips and tongue get your beyond wet just for him.  You were on fire, chanting his name and tugging at his locks as his hands were bracing your hips to keep you still, even with your thighs perched on his shoulders and shaking in pleasure and madness.  

There was no daydream that you ever had that would compare to the real thing, even when you came in a shout and Azriel grinned against your now sensitive pussy before he ascended to stare at your blissed-out face. He kissed you softly, you trembling against his lips while your orgasm was slowly coming down, but you moaned once again as his fingers sunk into you.  It made you realize he was simply warming up, and the night was just getting started.

That night was the best night of your life.

“How long have you liked me?” You asked as he placed the now empty plate away and had you snuggle in his arms, you half on top of him as his fingers were tracing your bare back and along your spine.  He grinned at you, scanning your eyes and your messy hair.

“Since the moment Nesta introduced you to me,” He answered, you blushing like mad as he kissed the tip of your nose, “I knew then, even in that smile on yours, that there would be no one else for me in this life.”

“From a smile?” You asked.

“You can tell a lot from a person in how they smile,” Azriel explained, “Those who force a smile are not to be trusted.  But those who have a real smile, a kind smile, are those who can depend on in hard times.  Your smile entranced me, and I never wished to see another smile since it would never compare to yours,”

“Well, for me, it was when we shook hands,” You explained, reaching over to take his spare hand and lace your fingers together gently and look at the scars along his skin, “Your hands were warm, and you were gentle in shaking my hand.  I knew then, because of the warmth I sensed in you and the goodness you had in you.”

Even bathed in the moonlight, bare with no abandon, Azriel’s smile he gave to you was beyond beautiful.  Your love for him was shining bright no sign of darkness or blemish, it was making everything else in your life seem dull in comparison.  He made you feel loved, not just with the physical pleasure he gave you but the emotional too.  You knew he adored you, loved you beyond reason, and you were feeling just the same.  He would walk through fire for you, experience pain so you wouldn’t, and there would be no hesitance when It came to bringing you love.  All because you loved him for who he was and brought him pure joy.    

And as he sat up with you in his lap, guiding his cock into you to make you cling onto him and moan in bliss, you both knew there was no going back as your lives were forever intertwined.  

The End

[midnightsslut]

Since you’re so good at connecting songs (I’m still in awe about how you made me realize that atw and illicit affairs are about the same subject), what is your most big brain/audacious/out there theory/connection about Taylor’s songs?

first of all, thank you! i have to say, I’m not the first one to get the idea that there are parallels between those two songs, but I’d never really sat down with them line by line. this ask really got me wondering because i feel like there are a lot of parallels I can think of but idk how out there they are. here is one that i don’t see people talking about a lot:

coney island feels like the other perspective of the story in you’re losing me, especially when you consider that taylor asked matt berninger about writing songs that deal with their own relationship issues with his wife. of course, coney island and you’re losing me were written at different points in their relationship, but the sentiment appears to be the same.

this got long, so I’m putting a cut here.

first of all, here is how taylor described coney island in her evermore interview with zane lowe (around the 37-minute mark)

The perspective I was coming from was like a male perspective of regret or guilt after a lifetime of apattern of behavior, and i've been kind of touching on sort of things like that on the song tolerate it where there's this person one side of the relationship who's felt like they've just… Their partner's been there, but they haven't *been* there. They've been there, but they're just sitting next to each other, eating breakfast, but they haven't they haven't been there […] I really loved writing, ‘we were like the mall before the internet / it was the one place to be.’ I was trying to reflect on the coney island visual of a place where thrills were once sought, you know, a place where once it was all electricity and magic, and now the lights are out, and you're looking at it, thinking ‘what did I do?’

‘break my soul in two, looking for you, but you’re right here’ —> ‘you say “I don’t understand,” I say “I know you don’t”’

‘and if this is the long haul, how’d we get here so soon?’ —> ‘how long could we be a sad song before we’re too far gone to bring back to life?’

‘did I close my fist around something delicate? did I shatter you?’ —> ‘my face was gray, but you wouldn’t admit that we were sick.’

‘over and over, lost again with no surprises / disappointments, close your eyes / and it gets colder and colder when the sun goes down’ —> ‘i’m getting tired even for a phoenix / always rising from the ashes, mending all her gashes’

‘what’s a lifetime of achievement if I pushed you to the edge, but you were too polite to leave me?’ —> ‘fighting in only your army, frontlines, don’t you ignore me / I’m the best thing at this party’

‘do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?’ —> ‘and the air is thick with loss and indecision’

‘will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?’ —> ‘now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time’

‘the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams’ —> ‘remember looking at this room? we loved it cause of the light’

‘sorry for not winning you an arcade ring’ —> ‘choose something, babe, I got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me’

‘did I leave you hanging every single day?’ —> ‘every morning, I glared at you with storms in my eyes’

‘did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray a universe away?’ —> ‘my face was gray, but you wouldn’t admit that we were sick’

‘and when I got into the accident, the sight that flashed before me was your face’ —> ‘now you’re running down the hallway / and you know what they all say / you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone’

‘but when I walked up to the podium, i think that i forgot to say your name’ —> ‘don’t you ignore me, I’m the best thing at this party’

you’re losing me is key to the entirety of ttpd, really, so this gives us the ability to draw parallels to sooo many songs on the album. coney island is a goldmine actually. no wonder she’s mashed it up with so many songs on tour.

my next post will be connecting right where you left me and chloe et al whenever I get around to it (to be clear, I don’t think they’re about the same person).

[canadianfangirl-95]

A Bahamas Bet

Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader

Summary: Going on vacation to the Bahamas with your friends could only call for sun, fun and a sweet vacation hookup. Nothing could ruin your enjoyable time, not even your childhood friend’s obnoxious army buddy, Frankie Morales. Right?

Original characters- Wendy (Will), Blaire (Benny), Sofia (Santi)

Two-part series warnings and info: 18+ Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, one bed left at the inn trope, alternating povs, Frankie doesn’t have a child, brief mention of therapy, reader nickname Birdie, alcohol, smut, protected p in v, hat stays ON, oral f receiving, swearing

Part 1 Word Count: 8k

Part 1

Thursday

Your eyes burn by the sudden brightness of the sun as you step out of the airport lobby. Throwing your hand over top of them so you can peer out and take in the surroundings. A beautiful tropical escape calls for you as you pull the strap on your backpack tighter and step in line with your group.

A fun in the sun friend trip to a Bahamas resort. What could go wrong? You were accompanied by your childhood friends Will and Benny, Will’s wife Wendy and Benny’s girlfriend Blaire. As well as their friend Santi, Santi’s girlfriend Sofia and their other friend. Upon their discharge from the army, they and their two friends settled right back into your hometown in North Carolina. Santi, who became a trusted brother-like figure, was equally as lovely as his girlfriend Sofia whom you introduced him to upon moving to your humble abode. She was a distant friend of yours from high school who you happened to reconnect with all these years later and they fell head over heels for one another the first time they met.

Their other friend, Frankie, was not someone you were looking forward to spending a long weekend with. While the rest of the group felt like a found family, Frankie did not. He was stubborn, rude, and was just, let’s be honest, a fucking dick to you since you met. You have asked Benny and Will countless times why they attached themselves to someone like him and every time you get the same answer, “You just don’t know him like we do, there’s more to him, give him a chance,” blah blah blah. You would absolutely give him a chance if every time you spoke his face didn’t ooze with annoyance. 

Frankie dickhead or fishhead or whatever they call him aside, you were determined to enjoy your weekend and maybe even have a vacation fling. Why not right? Getting drunk and messing around with a cute guy would surely distract your single heart from the painfully in love people you choose to spend your time with.

The group locates the shuttle from the airport to the resort and quickly haul your bags in. Each couple taking a bench together while you and Frankie take your decidedly separate benches on opposite sides of the bus.

Sofia turns in her seat to catch your attention from your phone, “I can’t wait to see the resort, and check out the excursions. There’s supposed to be a really romantic waterfall nearby that I wanna take this guy to if he’ll let me. They say it’s for lovers.” She says with a wink, nudging Santi’s shoulder.

This earned a cheeky smile from Santi, “I’ll take you wherever you want baby.”

You roll your eyes at the lovesick display in front of you with a grin and return to your phone. You can hear Frankie and Benny talking across the bus and even just his voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Thankfully this is a huge resort and the proximity you will be required to keep with him will be a few miles at most.

Everyone eagerly hops off the bus and bound towards the resort entrance to check in. Each couple steps in line together to get their room keys. You stand at the back of the line scanning the hotel lobby intently, when Frankie slides in the space between you and Will. You shake your head and grunt out an “Excuse you.” With an eye roll.

Frankie swiftly turns his head towards you with a grin, “Sorry did you say something?” His smug look amplified with his quick tap of his ear just below his stupid Standard Heating Oil hat that was seemingly glued to his head.

Shaking your head in annoyance you reply, “Isn’t it ladies first?”

He pulls his lips tight and squints, “Uh, sometimes but last I checked I don’t really see a lady here.” His cheeky smile earns nothing more than a huff from you as you fold your arms and ignore him once again.

The 3 couples complete their check ins and Frankie saunters up to the counter. You follow a few steps behind.

The clerk checks her computer and turns back to Frankie, “Yes, Mr. Morales. Will you and your significant other be needing two keys or one?”

He looks at her perplexed, “Uh, no it’s just me.”

She checks her screen again, “No, I have you and another guest in the same room.” She says your name and you perk up from behind Frankie’s broad body.

Frankie stands confused as you push forward and shove him slightly out of the way. “No, we booked 5 rooms. He and I each have our own.” you state matter-of-factly.

The clerk wrings her hands together nervously, “I’m sorry miss but the rooms were booked by Mr. Garcia and the reservation is only for 4 rooms, and unfortunately, we are booked solid right now.”

Your eyes widened and mouth slacked as you pieced together the puzzle. “So, what you’re say is, we-,” gesturing to you and Frankie’s stunned expression, “have to share one room…all weekend.”

She nods shyly, “Yes, I am so sorry, but I can throw in a complimentary beverage package for the inconvenience. I do just need a credit card for the room though.”

Frankie looks at you and you roll your eyes, whipping out your wallet and handing it over. “You’re gonna pay me back half.” You say sternly as he pulls his lips tight.

The clerk runs your card and offers an unnecessarily pleasant smile to you while placing the room cards and resort maps on the counter. Dumbfounded, you and Frankie both take your packages and turn to the group whose worry lines were greater than the waves crashing on the beach behind you.

Both of your faces turn to Santi and he sucks his teeth, “Uh, sorry about that guys I guess I didn’t double check the booking. Must’ve made a mistake.”

You look to the group, “Okay so who’s gonna switch with one of us because this is NOT happening.” You declare.

“Soooo, not happening.” Frankie confirms.

They look at each other in desperation for one of them to volunteer, but to no avail they all remain silent. Will pulls his lips into a thin line, “Look guys, I know it’s not ideal, but it’s just a long weekend. You can manage.”

Blaire comments, “Yeah, we won’t even be spending any time in the rooms anyway, we’ll be too busy. You’ll only be in the room at-,”

“Night, yeah that’s kind of my biggest problem here.” You interject, running a distressed hand through your hair. “Come on, one of the guys can bunk with Frankie and I’ll go with their girl.”

Benny shakes his head, “Birdie, hate to break it to you, but none of us are giving up sex all weekend to change rooms with you.” The couples all nod along in agreement as Frankie taps his knuckle against the room card in his hand that feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. “I’m sure you guys can manage to not rip each other apart for a few days for the sake of the trip, right?” He continues.

Sofia looks up at the ceiling of the grand lobby and mutters under her breath, “Or maybe ripping each other apart is exactly what they need to do.” She smirks at Santi who suppresses a chuckle.

Both pulling their humorous demeanor flat when your stern eyes burn into them, “Not funny, or helpful.”

Santi steps inward, “It’ll be fine guys, okay? Let’s just go to our rooms, get settled and meet back here in half an hour to start exploring alright?”

Everyone gives a meek nod and follows Santi’s lead towards the elevators. You grab your luggage handle and look up at Frankie who gives you a tight face, “After you, roomie.”

Thankfully, you were all still in the same hallway so you could have a quick escape from your hellish roommate situation if need be.

Stopping in front of your room, you pull the swipe card out of your pocket and slide it in. The green light flashes and you push forward into your jail cell for the weekend.

Both of your mouths drop as you discover the thing that neither of you had even considered.

One. Fucking. Bed.

Dropping your luggage, you step towards the large bed in the middle of the tropically decorated room, “No, no, no, are you fucking kidding me?” You ask the world, as your hands come to your face. Turning in your spot you see Frankie standing there with a smug grin on his face, suppressing a giggle.

“You think this is funny? Sharing a bed all weekend. With someone you hate.” You ask through grit teeth.

He steps forward, “No, but I think your reaction to sharing a bed with someone you hate all weekend is pretty funny.”

“Hah, well laugh it up army boy, you’re sleeping on the floor or in the tub.”

He scoffs and pushes past you to throw his lean body on the king-sized bed, resting his arm underneath his head, “Not happening pigeon, I paid for a bed, and I am using a bed. If you don’t think you can control yourself sharing with me, then you’ll be the one on the floor.”

Taking a deep inhale you reply, “First, it’s Birdie, which is rich coming from someone who’s nickname is literally Fish, and if you think I can’t control myself around you, you’re more delusional than I thought.” You say, sauntering over to the bed and tossing yourself down on the other side with a cross of your arms.

Rolling onto his side to look at you, he grins, “Please, I see the way you look at me.”

“Like my lunch is gonna come hurling through my mouth?” You say, refusing to meet his eyes.

“No, like you want me.” He says with a wink.

Your face finally turns on the pillow, “Me? Want you? To fall off a cliff maybe.”

He chuckles, “You’re funny when you’re flirting.”

Your whole-body rolls with your eyes as you pull yourself off the bed and onto the palm tree leaf patterned carpet. “If anyone is gonna have a hard time keeping their hands to themselves, it’s you.”

Leaning on his elbow to raise himself up, “Alright, I’ve got a bet for you. First one to make a move loses.” He says with a shit eating grin on his face.

You bite your lip with intrigue, “What does the winner get?”

He hums to himself for a moment, “Are bragging rights not enough?”

“No, no it’s really not. Whoever loses, pays for the room.” You say, crossing your arms and smirking at your prospect of a free vacation.

Frankie squints and looks around the room for a beat before turning back and replying, “Deal.” He raises his hand, and you step in to shake it.

Giggling, you comment, “Hope you’re looking forward to the bluest balls you’ve had since high school Morales.”

“Oh please, everyone knows I got laid in high school.” He grins and rolls off the bed.

The two of you unpack quietly while he offers you countless eyebrow raises and air kisses, to which you swiftly brush past, doing your best to ignore the slight heat coming from your gut and your sudden need to breathe out of your nose.

A fun in the sun friend trip to a Bahamas resort. What could go wrong?

After hours of exploring the resort and dinner, the group finds themselves in one of the resort bars. The guy’s crowd around the bar tv to watch whatever sporting event they were missing back home after bribing the bartender to change the channel.

You and the girls relax at a table sipping your fruity cocktails and taking in the guests enjoying the dance floor.

Wendy leans into the group, “Soo, how’d it go with Frankie in the room?”

You take a long sip from your drink before answering, “Oh get this. HE thinks I want him. HE thinks I can’t go all weekend sharing a room with him without catching feelings or making a move. Can you believe him?”

The girls look at one another with a thought that you were seemingly excluded from. “What?” You ask, perplexed.

Sofia shifts in her seat, “It’s just, to be honest none of us can really believe the two of you haven’t gotten together already.”

Your eyebrows crease, “Why on earth would I wanna get with Frankie?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, you two just seem to have this chemistry. We thought the weird anger you both held towards each other would have run its course by now and you would see that you’re, well, you’re kind of perfect for each other.”

Sputtering on your drink you can’t believe your ears, “Seriously, him and I? Perfect for each other? The same way that a lighter is perfect for dynamite maybe. He actually made a bet with me who would fold first. Can you believe him? Well, he’s got another thing coming.” You say into your drink, staring at the back of his head with a plan plotting behind your eyes.

Blaire laughs, “But what about your plan to get laid this weekend?”

“Oh, I’m doing that too. I have all weekend to mess with Frankie AND find a guy to have a vacation romance with. Maybe even go to that waterfall with. Don’t you worry about me.” You say with a wink.

Little did you know, the guys were having a similar conversation just across the bar.

Frankie continues, “So we made a bet who could make it the longest without making a move on the other one. Whoever loses pays for the whole room, I think I’ll get a seadoo with the money I get back.” he says, shoveling peanuts into his mouth.

Santi laughs and holds his beer close to his mouth, “So you’re definitely hooking up this weekend then?”

He shrugs, “Why would you say that?”

“You just said who could make it the longest, not who could make it the whole weekend without trying something. Let me ask you something man, if she genuinely tried to hook up with you, would you stop it and accept your win? Or would you do it?” He asks and takes a long sip from his drink.

Will and Benny turn towards Frankie and await his answer. The answer Frankie wishes he had. He drums his fingers on the wood bar top for a moment, “Uh, I don’t, - I didn’t think about it, I guess. I know you guys have known her since you were like, 6 but have either of you, ever, you know?” He asks Benny and Will with confusion in his eyes.

The brothers look to one and another and back to Frankie before Benny replies, “Her and I messed around a bit when we were teenagers, but we never slept together. Just kids figuring things out. That is about the time our parents realized we were a tad bit too old for slumber parties though.” He says with a laugh.

Will nods, “Nah, we’ve never. Just see her like a sister I guess.”

Frankie accepts their answers and continues his thoughts. What would he do if he found himself in that situation. Would he shut it down? Would he go with it? Shaking his head and returning his focus to the game, he reminded himself he can’t be having thoughts like that. He had a bet to win after all.

Saying goodnight to your friends, you stumble into the hotel room with Frankie sliding behind you. The buzz you had given yourself was keeping your spirits high at the thought of what you can do with this weekend. As you start collecting your pjs to retreat to the bathroom with, Frankie rounds his side of the bed and quickly starts undressing right down to his boxers. You throw your hand up to shield your eyes from the sight, “Whoa whoa keep your fucking pants on.”

He shrugs and climbs into the bed, “I sleep in my boxers at home, I’m gonna do it here. Unless, you know, this is too tempting for you.” He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Dropping your hand you offer him an annoyed look, “Hardly.” You say before heading to the bathroom.

When you return with your clean face, hair pulled into a bun and your fresh pjs on, you crawl into the other side of the bed.

Frankie stares at you, “Wow, really making it hard for me huh ostrich?”

All that you can muster at the late hour is a swift flip of your middle finger and then you turn on your side, facing away from him. Without so much as a goodnight, you drift to sleep to the sound of his deep breathing.

Friday

Your body feels heavy as you slowly wake up, as if something is weighing you down into the mattress. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the light peeking through the blue curtains of the room. Still laying on your side, you slowly turn your head to find the source of your discomfort. Frankie’s limp body clung to you while his morning breath penetrates your nostrils. His bare chest warms your back and his thick arms wrap around your waist holding you in place. Giving a huff you use your arm to shove him off you. He rolls onto his back and startles awake, “What, what happened?” he asks, looking around for the cause of his abrupt waking. His curly brown locks thrown about in an admittedly cute way.

“You were literally sleeping on me. If I weren’t such a nice person, I’d count that as making a move considering how close your hand was to my tits.” You answer as you crawl out of bed and towards the bathroom.

A meek “Fuck off” is all Frankie is capable of verbalizing in his sleepy state as he lays back down in the bed, pulling his pillow over his head to shield himself from the rays breaking through the thin curtains.

You look in the mirror at your tired appearance. Pulling at the skin on your cheeks you remind yourself of your prerogative for the weekend. Free room, hot date. Is what you needed to prepare yourself for as you start the shower to prep yourself for the day.

Frankie’s incessant knocking comes 45 minutes later with a “Hurry the fuck up.” and “How long do you need in there?”

With hair and makeup perfect and a freshly shaved body you look at your naked self in the mirror and smile. These men were not gonna stand a chance with you. You grab the towel you had used to dry yourself and wrap if around your body, curling the top a few too many times so the hem sits just below your ass and the top providing an added amount of cleavage to complete the look.

Opening the door, you are met with a disheveled Frankie leaning with one hand on the door frame and an unamused look. He has thankfully put on pajama pants, but his tan chest still stuck out at you like a bright sign on the interstate. He opens his mouth to speak before taking in your appearance as you strut past him. He watches as you return to your suitcase and start pulling various clothing options out.

He looks at the bathroom and then back at you, and then back again before commenting, “I see what you’re doing.”

You look over your shoulder with a flip of your hair, “What am I doing Frankie?”

He grits his teeth, “You think you can saunter around here in next to nothing and because I’m just a guy who thinks with his dick, I’ll fall for it. Well, it’s not gonna work missy. I’m stronger than that.” He says with a finger point. His voice only cracking once during his speech, which brings you utter amusement and him a sense of embarrassment.

“Aw I’m sure you are sweetie.” You say with a bite of your plump lip before turning back to your suitcase, reaching a little farther than you need to so the hem of the towel raises just enough to reveal the swell of your ass.

Frankie’s eyes widen at your tease and quickly stumbles into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

When he reappears, you are dressed in a tank top, tennis skirt and running shoes. He chews the inside of his cheek taking in your little skirt and pushes past you to readjust himself before you can notice.

“What’s on the agenda for the today?” he asks, trying to be as casual as possible.

You check your phone, which has a text thread of all the activities you and the girls had put together for the weekend. “Uh, we’ll go meet up for brunch and then we’re going on an ATV tour of the island. Sounds pretty cool.” You say nodding. “I’m all ready so I’m gonna head down there.” You say before swinging your backpack onto your shoulder and walking out the door.

Benny and Will are already seated at a table when you arrive, so you greet them brightly before getting your food from the buffet. Upon returning you find yourself at the end of a pointed arrow or should you say look from the pair.

“What?” You ask, shoveling your scrambled eggs into your mouth.

Benny takes a deep breath, “Frankie told us about this bet of yours.”

Your eyebrows pop up, “Did he now?” You ask, mouth still full of eggs.

Will nods, “Do you know what you’re doing here? With him.”

Waving his worries aside with your hand you respond, “Guys seriously, it’s no big deal. Nothing, and I mean nothing is gonna happen between Frankie and I this weekend. A little teasing and annoyance are all that is gonna occur. You should be happy we’re getting along well enough for this bet. If anything, I think we’re fighting less.” You shrug.

The brothers look at each other and offer meek smiles. Their other halves suddenly appear and take their seats.

Blaire offers Benny a loving kiss before turning her attention to you, “So, how was your first night with Frankie?” she asks, clearly loving the drama of it all.

You roll your eyes with a laugh, “I wake up and his face is literally right behind me just breathing all over me. It was disgusting. And then he was pounding on the bathroom door while I was trying to get ready like an animal.”

They all laugh as Santi, Sofia and Frankie come into the dining area to collect their meals from the buffet.

Once everyone is fed and you are overall annoyed with Frankie’s version of your first night together, you all depart to the front of the resort for the ATV tour. The tour guide shows you to the parked ATV’s near the entrance. 5 in total, 1 for him and 4 for you. Only 4 for the group. Huh, you look at the guide and said, “Actually we need 5 ATV’s, I’m not sharing one with him.” You say, gesturing to your roommate.

The guide apologizes, “I’m sorry ma’am but we only have these ones available right now, the rest are booked.”

“What is with this fucking resort, okay fine, let’s just go.” You say in a huff, not wanting to take up any more of your friend’s time with your exasperation over the scheduling of this place.

Frankie takes a helmet off the seat and passes you the other, which you accept begrudgingly.

He slides onto the ATV and revs the engine. You secure your helmet and climb onto the back of the vehicle, holding onto the sides.

Frankie looks over his shoulder at you, “Hey, goose, you’re gonna have to hold onto me you know. I’m not stopping to pick your sorry ass back up when you go flying off.”

Taking a deep breath in your nose you inch forward on the seat until you’re flush with his back, wrapping your arms coyly around his stomach and latching your fingers together. His stomach feels soft and his back is warm against your chest. It could almost be a cozy position to be in if it were anyone else. You try to compose yourself from the slight tingling that has arose in your stomach and place your chin on his shoulder, “If you crash this thing I’ll kill you.”

He chuckles, “Baby if I crash this thing we’ll both be dead so it won’t really matter now will it?”

Baby? Yeah okay, get over yourself buddy. “I’ll find a way to kill you again. And I’m not your baby by the way.”

A grin spreads across his face at your annoyance, “Whatever you say.” He says before taking off behind the rest of the group.

Your bodies bumped against one another the entire ride and the bumps from the road did little to help your core which was already struggling to stay calm with your arms wrapped around Frankie’s firm physique. The sleeves of his t-shirt were stretched tight on his biceps and his curls wrapped up under the brim of the helmet. You did your best to ignore the smell of his cologne and focus on the stunning landscape of the island. The waves crashing onto the beach as you ride on the sand was like a scene out of a rom com. You peer over Frankie’s shoulder at the rest of your friends. All the happy couples snuggling and taking in the scenic view. You haven’t been in a relationship in so long and your heart ached for that sense of comfort and passion that they all held. A vacation fling was all you could manage right now, but you think that you should really start trying to find that special person to spend your Sunday nights watching The Last of Us with.

The group returns back to the resort and you clammer off the back of the ATV and remove your helmet. Frankie leans into you with a sly look on his face, “Did you enjoy the ride? Could’ve sworn I felt your hands venturing a little farther than they should have. If I weren’t such a nice person, I might count that as making a move.”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “In your dreams fish head.” Before thrusting your helmet into his chest and turning to join your friends.

Standing in the lobby of the hotel, the couples all decide they are going to go back to the rooms and take naps as the mid-day heat has worn them all out. Hanging out for 2 hours in the room with Frankie is not how you intended to spend your afternoon, so you bid your farewells and head to the outdoor bar to sip from your complimentary package and read your book alone.

Not 2 paragraphs in and you hear the screeching of the chair across from you pull out. Lifting your head from your book you huff at the sudden intrusion of none other than Frankie fucking Morales.

“I was actually planning on being alone.” You say sternly, folding your book in your lap and taking a long sip from your entirely too sugary drink.

He drums his hands on the table, “Don’t you get enough of that at home? I thought you’d like the company from your handsome and charming roommate.”

You grin sarcastically, “Well if I had one, I would certainly enjoy that. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Also, you’re one to talk calling me lonely. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a girl on your arm longer than a night since you moved.” Crossing your arms you look him up and down and raise a brow with your statement.

He huffs a breath out his nose and pulls his sunglasses off his face to fiddle with them in his hands. “Just haven’t found the right girl yet I guess. We’re not all lucky like Will who met his wife when he was 18.”

“Yeah, I remember when they met. He was so giddy; it drove Benny nuts. Him spending all his time with her and not his little brother.” you comment, reminiscing on the memories.

“What was it like growing up with them?” he asks intently.

You were slightly thrown off by his sudden interest in your life. The Frankie you knew typically dismissed everything you said with a grimace. Maybe vacation Frankie was a little softer, so you oblige. “It was actually really fun. They’re such great guys and since I was an only child, it was nice having them across the road. Never felt like a burden, or like I annoyed them.” You say, peering up at him pointedly over your sunglasses.

He smirks and takes a sip from his beer.

“Why do you always treat me like that?” You ask with a quiet voice.

Looking back up at you he leans forward against the table, “Like what?”

“Like I’m annoying. I get along great with Santi, but not you.”

Frankie clears his throat and passes his sunglasses back and forth between his hands. “You’re like Benny and Will’s kid sister, how I’m supposed to treat you.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh that’s bullshit. You do not treat me as rudely as you do simply because you see me as some annoying little sister of your friends who always wants to play x-box with you guys and eats your candy.”

He chuckles, “I don’t know what to tell you, duck.”

Throwing your hands up in exasperation you laugh, “Seriously, like that. How much effort do you put in just to not call me by my real nickname. I feel like you had to buy a bird book, so you’d have enough to switch between.”

Matching your laugh, he smiles back at you, “I mean I might’ve taken a peek at a book my mom had from her bird watching days.”

Laughing with Frankie felt easy, you almost forget all the snarky remarks he’s made to you these last few years.

He hums to himself, and stands, “Um, I think I’ve interrupted your reading time enough, so I think I’ll go back to the room and get a quick nap in.”

You nod and wave him off. Finally, returning to your book. Rereading the same sentence four times before realizing you were held up rethinking the conversation you just had. Not being able to imagine the scene laid out before you on the page as you couldn’t get your mind off the way Frankie’s shirt was open at the top, revealing a small view of his strong chest. Taking a deep breath, you figure it’s no use working on your book. Maybe a walk on the beach would be a better way to spend your time as you wait for dinner.

Creeping into the room as quietly as possible you spot Frankie still asleep in the bed. The small act of kindness he had shown you this afternoon had made you look at his sleeping state with a warmer heart than normal. It’d be nice to be a good roommate and not wake him, so you retreat to the bathroom right away, not even sliding off your sandals or putting your bag down to begin getting ready for dinner, starting with a nice relaxing bubble bath.

30 minutes later Frankie stirs in the bed and sleepily pulls his head up off the pillow to rub his face in his hands. He had been asleep far longer than he thought he would he thought to himself as he checked the time on his watch. Looking around the room he notices your apparent absence, assuming you are still out enjoying your alone time. He slinks out of the bed, only in his boxers and heads to the bathroom to freshen up in the shower.

After sufficiently soothing your tired sun kissed skin in a long bubble bath, you put your phone down on the floor to pull yourself out of the tub.

Just as you step out of the tub, your body dripping wet and covered in bubbly suds, the door swings open and your eyes widen as Frankie’s eyes suddenly catch yours. You, stood completely naked covered in bubbles, and him, with his boxers halfway down his thighs as he was pulling them off.

Both of your eyes trail the others bare body as you jump in your skin, quickly grabbing a towel off the counter and throwing it over yourself. Frankie nearly falling over as he fumbles to pull his boxers back up.

Your mouth gaps as you yell, “What the fuck Frankie?”

He steadies himself, putting a hand on the door frame, “What? I thought you were still out!”

“Well obviously I’m not! I’ve been back for like half an hour.” You state, working to secure the towel around you without flashing anymore of yourself than you already have.

“Well why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks with distress in his voice, his curly brown locks still tousled from his nap.

“I was trying to be nice and not wake you up. How was I supposed to know you were just going to barge in here?”

“Why not lock the damn door then?” he asks, tapping his knuckles against the open door beside him.

You take a deep breath in and out of your nose, trying to calm yourself down and ridding yourself of the mental picture of Frankie’s flaccid but admittedly still large cock. “Can you please, just close the door. I’ll be out in a minute, and you can a shower and then I’ll come back in to finish getting ready for dinner.” You cross your arms and try not to meet his gaze.

With a meek and embarrassed voice, he says fine, and closes the door as he turns in his spot.

Your hands fall to the countertop immediately, trying to compose yourself. That was either the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to you or the sexiest. You couldn’t ignore the humming coming from your core as you imagine him again. Looking up in the mirror you map your face. How are you going to go the rest of the weekend now that Frankie fucking Morales has seen you naked?

Frankie and you get ready for dinner in utter silence. You come out of the bathroom fully clothed and in an A-line dress with a bright pattern that has a neckline that falls to just below your sternum. If you had actually been making eye contact with him you would’ve noticed the way his breath hitched and his eyes raked over your body, taking in every sexy curve. You would’ve seen the way his eyes glossed over as he thought about your plush breasts covered in bubbles and way your thighs looked shimmering with water.

You walk into the hallway to find Wendy and Will waiting for the group to head down to dinner, Frankie following closely behind you in a Hawaiian themed shirt and green shorts. You immediately pull Wendy in for a chat, actively avoiding her questions about how you and Frankie spent the afternoon while you waited for the rest of your friends.

The group seats for dinner, unfortunately for you, you are seated right across the table from Frankie. His face looking equally as bashful, and his ears turn a certain shade of pink as you quickly make eye contact before abruptly turning your attention to literally anybody else who would talk to you.

The overall energy of the evening was off, everyone could tell. The way you and Frankie drank from your drinks when the other was speaking or would look intently at the ceiling for an unexplainable reason.

Santi finally leans into the table after another awkward moment where one of you was too busy avoiding the other to actually provide your attention to the group. “You two have been acting weird all night. What’s up?”

Slightly choking on your drink, you and Frankie reply at the same time.

“Nothing.” You both say before making a wide-eyed gaze at him from above your glass perched comfortably in your hand.

Santi chuckles and looks to the group, “Wow, that was convincing am I right guys?”

They all laugh to themselves and offer you pointed looks.

Clearing his throat Frankie offers up, “Don’t know what you guys are talking about, emu and I are talking about as much as we normally do.” he says with a slight laugh under his breath.

Will interjects, “We know you guys don’t talk, but you also don’t sit there as quiet as church mice. What happened?”

“Ouu did you two fuck?” Bennys laughs.

Your eyes bug out of your head and Blaire offers him a swift strike to his stomach.

“Fuck sakes, Benny no of course not I’d rather roll off the back of one of those damn ATVs.” You say with disgust written all over your face, a convincing mask.

Your quick dismissal has Frankie narrowing his eyes and finally staring at you, “Really? Road burn would be better than sleeping with me? Because, if I think about it enough, maybe you left the door unlocked on purpose.”

Your jaw drops at his accusation, “Seriously? You think I would leave the door unlocked just for you? Well, maybe you did know I was back, and you played it off as an accident, so you could get a peak.”

“Oh yeah, I faked being asleep for 2 hours so I could sneak up on you, yeah okay. I saw the way you looked at me by the way so don’t even start with that shit.” He exclaims, hands on the table and pressed forward.

Letting out a huffed laugh you retort, “How I was looking at you? Speak for yourself I can’t believe you were able to get your jaw off the ground after the way you looked at me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart, any shock on my face was purely from the situation not from what you’ve got going on over there.” He says, crossing his arms firmly on his chest.

You chew your bottom lip and look up at the ceiling, steam surely piling out of your ears.

Everyone else at the table sits still, eyes wide and jaws slack after watching the display you and Frankie have just put on. They look to one another before Sofia waves her hands in the air to track her thought process, “So, wait, what happened?”

Rolling your eyes you reply coldly, “Frankie went back to the room to take a nap, I came back and as I was trying to be a good roommate for the sake of the trip, decided not to disturb him and went to the bathroom to take a bath. He walked in on me when I was getting out of the tub and he was-,” You pinch the brim of your nose to collect your thoughts, “and he was pulling his boxers down to take a shower. I didn’t know he was awake, and he didn’t know I was back. So, he says at least.”

“Lock. The. Damn. Door.” Frankie states through gritted teeth.

Blaire perks up in her seat, “Wait, so, you two saw each other naked? That’s hilarious.”

To your dismay they all come together in a laugh that makes you roll your neck on your shoulders before returning to your drink.

Seeing your discomfort Will settles the group, “Okay guys, let’s all calm down here. It’s no big deal. Hey, raise your hand if you’ve seen Fish naked.” He says before raising his hand prominently in the air. Santi and Benny offer their hands up as well. Benny gives you a glare, to which you begrudgingly oblige and raise your hand above the table from its settled position on your lap with a roll of your eyes.

Will smiles, “Okay now who’s seen Birdie?”

Sofia and Wendy raise their hands, having spent a drunken weekend together last summer where you all partook in skinny dipping in the rental houses pool. Frankie shrugs and raises his hand from his side. Bennys hand creeps up from below the table and everyone turns to look at him with confused eyes.

“Benny I was like 16, looks a lot different now.” You state gesturing to your body, declaring it doesn’t count and he shrugs before pulling his hand down.

Will pops his eyebrows up and down, “See, no big deal. Just move on and keep enjoying the weekend. Alright?”

Through pursed lips you and Frankie both hum an alright back to Will and do your best to engage normally before heading back to the room to freshen up before the bar.

You storm into the room with Frankie hot on your tail. “Thanks a lot for that.” You say, going to your suitcase to collect your outfit for the evening.

Frankie pulls his shoulders up to his ears, “The fuck do you mean by that? You’re the one that was acting weird.”

“What you got going on over there? Real nice.”

He huffs, “Rather fall off the end of an ATV? Real nice.”

You turn where you stand and pinch your nose, frustrated and exhausted by the whole thing, “You know what Frankie, let’s just call this what it is. A shitty situation that is getting us both a little worked up.” You say, trying to diffuse the situation, “Can we just, go back to what we were doing before?”

Somewhat shocked, Frankie nods his head and rests his hands on his hips.

“Okay,” you say, putting your outfit into a bag and going to the bathroom to collect your makeup and hair products. When you return Frankie is still in the same spot, watching your figure move around the room with his eyes. “I’m gonna get ready with Sofia, Santi will be over soon.” You slowly creep closer to Frankie, causing his eyes to flick between your eyes and your mouth. Bringing your hand up to toy with the button his shirt you whisper, “So you should have time to rub one out thinking about how much you liked seeing me naked this afternoon.”

Frankies eyes flash bright white with arousal, his eyes crawl down to your chest heaving just a few inches from him. He slowly starts to lose his resolve as his head leans down slightly. To your dismay however, he suddenly jerks back and points a finger in your face again. “Nice try, I see the game is back on.”

“Bring it on, Morales.” You say with a click of your tongue on the top of your mouth before turning on your heels and walking out of the room.

The guys head to the nightclub of the resort early to save a booth for the group. You and girls arrive later and head straight to the bar to get some drinks. Your confidence was at an all-time high wearing a short black mini dress with a slit and red heels. The bartender swiftly gives you your drink with a wink and you knew the night would be a good one. As you and the girls were heading to the booth, Frankie was on his way to the bar for his own drink. The club was a tight squeeze as it was already filled with hundreds of people. As he approaches, he turns slightly to move past you. You casually turn as well so your back is to him and then slowly brush past him, rubbing your ass on his crotch as you pass. You look over your shoulder and bat your lashes offering an innocent, “Oops, sorry roomie.”

The sound he makes can only be described as a growl as he stares you down as you walk away and to the booth.

The night wears on without incident. You and the girls dancing on the dance floor, when the guys join and the couples began pairing off, you take it as an opportunity to retreat to the bar and get another drink.

Sitting on a cozy plush bar stool, waiting to get the bartender’s attention, when a hand suddenly lands at the bottom of your back. You turn to look and are met with an incredibly handsome man. Dark hair and features, tall and broad shoulders with a thin waist. He was wearing an open white button shirt and tan shorts that were a touch too short for your liking, but he was gorgeous, nonetheless.

“Hi.” He says with a charming smile.

You turn in your seat to him, “Hey.”

“I’m Juan.” he says, offering his hand.

Shaking his hand and giving him your name, he smiles at you. “I’ve been watching you dance. You’ve got great moves.”

Blushing, you reply, “Didn’t I see you at the beach today? Playing volleyball?”

He nods and you continue, “So what are you stalking me?” You ask with a cheeky grin on your face.

Juan drops his head with his laugh and then lifts it back up to meet your eyes, his chocolate brown eyes sending heat down to your core with every blink. “I wouldn’t call it that, maybe lusting after you, admiring you.”

Your chest flushes with his charm and the two of you dive into a back-and-forth retort of flirting and questions. Your hand finding his chest from time to time, his finding your bare leg and rubbing tiny circles into it with his thumb.

All the while, Frankie is back in the booth with your friends, watching the scene unfold.

Blaire leans into the group to shout over the music, “Looks like Birdie found herself a match for the weekend.”

Wendy and Sofia giggle together, while Frankie chews his bottom lip.

Santi looks over at his friend and pats his shoulder, “Hey, you alright?”

Frankie nods, “Oh yeah, just feeling a little stuffy. I think I’m gonna go outside and get some air.” He says as casually as possible.

He rises from the booth and slinks past his friends to head towards the door, not before looking over his shoulder to see Juan close in on you and take your chin in his finger, tipping your face up towards his. He turns on his heels and bounds out the door into the humid air outside the club before he sees anything else. Frankie leans his back against the cool wall and rests his head back before taking another long sip from his drink.

When he returns, you are back seated with the group at the booth. He gives a meek grin as he slides back in and into your conversation with the girls.

“So, his name is Juan and he’s from New Mexico. He’s here with a few of his friends for one of their birthdays for the weekend.” You continue.

Sofia inches closer to you, “So, are you gonna, you know tonight?”

Frankie’s breath catches in his throat as he waits for your response.

“No, today is his friend’s actual birthday so he doesn’t wanna bail on him, but he promised to find me tomorrow.” You say with a wink. “He did kiss me before he left and that was fireworks so I’m pretty excited.” Taking a sip from your drink as the girls all squeal with their excitement for you.

Not long later, you and Frankie are sliding into your room to end the night. You hum in your drunkenness and fall onto the bed.

Frankie stands above you looking down at your state and grins to himself. You perch up on your elbows and whine, “Frankieeee, can you take my shoes of they’re fucking killing me.”

He crosses his arms, “Why can’t you do it?”

“Frankie!” You snap, “Please I can’t do it I’m too tired.” Swatting your hands down on the bed like a brat.

“Too drunk is more like it.” He says before leaning with his knee on the bed and grabbing your leg. He slowly pulls at the straps on your ankles and does his best to ignore the way your silky-smooth skin feels to his touch, how it makes his cock twitch in his shorts. Try not to think about bringing it up to his mouth to place supple kisses to it.

Once your feet have sufficiently been freed from their pain you roll under the covers and pull the pillow tight into a snuggle.

“You’re not gonna get changed?” he asks, rounding his side of the bed.

Your eyes held tight you reply, “Nope, too comfy now.”

He smirks and slides into the bed after undressing. Rolling over he turns off the light and lays with his back flat on the bed before turning slightly to look at you. “G’night.” He mutters under his breath. He waits for your answer, but you’ve already fallen deep into a drunken sleep, so he rolls over onto his side facing away from you and pinches his eyes closed, willing the images of you from today to escape his tired mind.

Part 2

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 49 - Fin

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 1.2K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

Once the decision had been made, everything seemed to speed up at a frantic pace. Rhysand sent word swiftly, his efficient fae couriers relaying your decision to return to the Autumn Court and making arrangements for your move. Packing was simple, as you didn't have much to bring with you - just a few belongings that held sentimental value and reminded you of your past life in Velaris. Instead of focusing on the logistics of moving, you spent the next two days soaking in every moment with Azriel and Nesta, cherishing the time you had left with your loved ones.

Nesta promised to write to you frequently, though she acknowledged that her letters may be screened by the Autumn Court couriers, who were most likely under orders from their High Lord to monitor any correspondence coming in or out. In defiance, Nesta declared her intention to include scandalous descriptions of taboo encounters from her books, relishing the thought of making the snooty old males reading her letters blush. You and Nesta also avoided discussing the fact that you would not be present for the birth of her child, a painful reality that lingered in the back of both your minds. Instead, you reminisced about old memories, now tinged with a bittersweet awareness of an uncertain future.

Azriel spent most of his time by your side, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if he could keep you from being taken away. In whispered promises and hopeful declarations, he spoke of a future where he would come storming into the Autumn Court Manor, fighting through armies to rescue you and bring you back home to Velaris. But there were moments when these dreams felt like nothing more than childish fantasies, and deep down, you knew better than to blindly hope for such a fate.

The morning of your departure arrived all too quickly. Neither you nor Azriel had slept much the night before, choosing instead to spend every precious second in each other's arms. As the sun rose over the mountains, Azriel pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, and you tried to imprint every sensation onto your memory - the softness of his lips, the warmth of his love, the weight of his body against yours. But as soon as he pulled away, a hollow emptiness settled in the pit of your stomach, a physical reminder of the distance that would soon separate you both.

As you met with Nesta, Cassian, Rhysand, Feyre, Nyx, Elain, and Lucien at the gates of the grand city, your family surrounded by gifts and love. Elain had lovingly hand-embroidered the night sky cast high over Velaris on a royal blue scarf for you to keep with you, a reminder that no matter where you traveled, the stars would remain constant above. The fabric was soft like a cloud and glimmered in the light as if touched by magic. She also slipped a few of her famous treats she had baked into a basket for your trip, smacking away Lucien’s hand as he attempted to steal one of the scones. Nesta arrived with a trunk of clothes, declaring that the House had plopped it at her feet right before she left. Inside were lavish dresses and gowns fit for a High Lady with accented notes of the Night Court mixed in with autumnal tones, a perfect fusion of your heritage and new home. Feyre presented you with a small painting, no larger than the size of your palm. It depicted your family at the dinner table, all smiling faces and happiness captured on canvas. Each brushstroke reflected the love and bonds between all of you. As you looked at the faces of these females who had taken you in as though you were their own sister, you saw the resilient spirits that would not allow you to be forgotten easily. Each one was a force to be reckoned with, holding within them a power deeper than anyone could imagine. Cassian enveloped you in a bear hug so tight you worried it might crush your ribs, his strength and warmth engulfing you. Rhysand's embrace was gentler but just as meaningful. He held you there for a few moments, whispering words only meant for your ears. An apology and a promise to work towards returning you to your home.

The last two days had been a blur of bittersweet goodbyes between you and Azriel. Each moment was filled with kisses, tears, and time spent wrapped in each other's arms, trying to hold on to every precious second together. As he held you close, his only words were whispered promises that echoed in your heart, "I will endure each day without you until I can suffer again by your side." His hazel eyes gazed into yours with a fierce determination, promising that this separation would not be the end. And as you reluctantly pulled away, you chose to believe in the unwavering love and hope shining in those eyes.

Lucien had promised to take you to the Autumn Court, acting almost as a guide and diplomat to the odd customs of his home court. As he pressed a kiss into Elain's rosy cheek, she gave him a look that seemed to threaten him: if you weren't taken care of, he shouldn't bother coming home. As you mounted the brown mare, its coat warm and soft beneath your hands, it chortled happily under your weight. With each step outside the city walls, the air grew colder and crisper. You turned your head to see the faces of your family, tears staining their cheeks as they waved goodbye. But Azriel, glorious Azriel, did not wave. He merely smiled, his piercing eyes betraying a burning rage within. A rage that told you he would burn heaven and earth to bring you home. And you believed him. Despite the fear knotting in your stomach and the uncertainty ahead, you refused to let this be your defeat. This journey was your choice, and with a plan that would take months to take place, you were determined to come out victorious. The Autumn Court may be a place of strange customs and danger, but it would not be where your soul would be crushed. You were prepared for whatever lay ahead on this path you had chosen.

As the hour passed and you began your ascent up the steep mountain, you couldn't help but steal glances down at your beloved city below. The familiar buildings and streets that had once been your home now appeared small and distant, causing a deep ache to stir in your heart. But this would not be the last time you laid eyes on your home. The Autumn Court was unleashing a tempestuous storm upon themselves, a storm cloaked in delicate lace and ferocious power. You were determined to show them that even as they might try to break you, you were not the same female that left that cabin so many months ago. You were stronger, more sure of yourself, and you would not let this break you. As you climbed higher, the air grew thinner and colder, but your determination burned brighter. You would keep moving forwards, continue your climb until you saw the other side of the mountain, until you saw home. The glorious shining city of Velaris and the one you could call your own. Your destination lay beyond the Autumn Court, and you would not stop until you reached it.

To my beloved readers who have been with me every step of the way. Your unwavering support and encouragement has given me the courage to push through self-doubt and write about topics that are difficult and challenging. You have left me heartfelt notes that fuel my passion for writing, inspiring me to keep creating and sharing my work with the world. I've dreamed of being a writer since childhood, crafting stories on the family computer and declaring that one day I would share them with others. And now, thanks to your love and support, I have over 600 pages of this fic that I poured my heart into for over a month, honing my skills and finding my voice. I plan to have it printed and bound as a reminder that I can do this, that people enjoy my writing, they want to read it, they want to hear what I have to say. From the depths of my soul, thank you for being there, thank you for reading, thank you for helping me make this dream a reality. This is not the end of our journey together, but for now, it's all I have within me to tell. My beloved character needs time to live her life while I live mine, but we will meet again in the future and she will shine brighter than ever before.

With infinite love,

A Court of Fics and Errors

P.S. This isn't the end of my random little fics, just a break from the long form for a while :)

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