#but i can barely get to sleep at all these days and just bed ridding myself

[skyeateyourdonuts]

weeoo

[aliteralsemicolon]

Thinking about how Spencer takes care of you when you're too exhausted to take care of yourself.

He walks into your bedroom to find you on the brink of sleep, carelessly curled up on your end of the bed and his brows raise in slight concern as he scans you. You couldn't even be bothered to change out of your day clothes. He chuckles lightly at the sight, as he makes his way to you.

"Baby?" He gently calls to you, rubbing your calf with his hand as he takes a seat next to your legs. You're unable to respond to the sound of his voice despite hearing it. He tries again, this time kneeling on the floor next to your head.

"Angel?" His fingers lightly brush through your hair as he whispers near your ear.

"Hmm?" You reply hazily.

You wait for him to speak so you can go back to sleep but all that follows is silence. He resumes his motions in your hair and it keeps you aware of his presence. He's waiting for you to gain some more consciousness. You rub your eyes, fluttering them open and Spencer's quick to guide your hand away from your face.

Right. Your makeup.

"What's up?" You mumble, stifling a yawn.

"I know you're tired, and I'm sorry for having to wake you up," he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "but you do know why it's bad for you to fall asleep like this?"

This is a topic the two of you have discussed before. You're usually quite meticulous about removing your makeup before bed, but you're also no stranger to nights when you can't find any energy to do so.

"Mhm. Clogged pores, risk of infections, bacteria spread, discomfort…" You trail off, summarising his extensive research.

Getting you up and off this bed is a losing battle tonight and Spencer graciously accepts defeat, sporting an endeared grin.

"Can I at least help you get comfortable? Would it be alright if I took these off for you?" He tugs at your top and waits for your response. You nod, letting out a barely audible hum.

Spencer moves off the floor and begins to remove your clothing. "You're gonna have to help me just a little bit, Angel. Lift your hips for me."

You blindly follow his commands, wanting to get it over with so that he can relax and you can go back to sleep. He doesn't relax, though. As he rids you of the last of your clothing, he mentally fights himself on letting you sleep with your make-up. There are so many risks involved, but hygiene aside, Spencer knows that if you wake up with your pillow stained– or God forbid…a pimple– you're going to be beyond pissed with yourself.

The sudden dip in the mattress slightly startles you, as a cool feeling drags against your cheek and you whine.

"Shhhh, sorry, it's just me." Spencer coos.

"What're you doing?" You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, still in a sleepy haze.

"Just wiping off your makeup, sweet girl. You're going to thank me tomorrow." His finger hooks under your chin and he soothingly rubs his thumb just under your lips.

"Spence…" You begin whining but you're unable to pronounce anything else coherently.

He can tell you're slightly irritated, but he doesn't mind. He knows that it's the exhaustion talking.

"I know, I know." He sympathises with his continually gentle tone. "I'm almost done. You're being so good for me right now."

Your lips pout, but you don't complain any further, his words calming you. By the time he's finished ridding your face of cosmetic residue, you're knocked out again. Light snores can be heard from you. He chuckles to himself at the sight of you. So peaceful. So adorable. He leans in closer and plants a firm, lingering kiss on your forehead before he disappears to get ready for bed himself.

"Spence?"

He turns around at your groggy voice, still half asleep. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Anytime, my pretty girl."

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ take a seat ] q. hughes

day 3 of kinktober (face sitting w/ quinn hughes)

paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary: Quinn grows a playoff beard and his girlfriend loves it. the day he decides to shave it after the Canucks get eliminated, she tells him how she really feels about it and Quinn gives her the moment she’s been wanting since he started growing it before he shaves it

warning(s) : smut ! face sitting / riding, oral (f receiving), fingering

author’s note : been waiting to write this one hehe. it’s on the shorter side but i hope y'all enjoy anyway

kinktober schedule

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The playoffs have treated her and Quinn so well. Quinn because he got to captain the Canucks to the second round after a short 3 year playoff drought. Her because Quinn grew a playoff beard over the past month or so and she's barely managed to keep her hands off of him while he was playing.

She loves everything about the playoffs, but especially the fact that Quinn hasn’t shaved in a few weeks. He looks so good with longer facial hair and she loves the way it tickles her lip when he kisses her. She kinda just wants him to go down on her for as long as possible to feel it against her core.

The thought of Quinn eating her out with the beard is enough to soak her. The feeling of his beard on her core is something she thinks about an unhealthy number of times over the course of three weeks. She’s gotten off multiple times just at the thought alone, especially when he's away playing in Nashville and Edmonton. She’s wouldn’t know what to do if it happened.

But the Canucks were eliminated by Edmonton last night so it’s time for Quinn to shave off the beard he has spent the past few weeks growing. He doesn't do it the day after their season ends because he wants to just lay around and have the laziest day ever, so she gets an extra day to admire him.

The morning of the day Quinn wants to shave his beard though, she wakes up before he does. He stopped setting alarms once the Canucks got eliminated two nights ago but she is naturally an early riser. She doesn't dare move because part of Quinn's morning routine is shaving. If she moves and wakes him up, he's going to go shave and that's the last thing she wants right now.

She softly sighs as morning Vancouver sun creates a muted orange glow throughout the room. Quinn already looks so good and he's not even awake yet.

All because of that stupid beard he grew.

Quinn begins to stir moments after she wakes. His eyes flutter open and look bright in the morning sunlight.

"It's creepy to stare at people while they sleep, baby," he tells her, his voice slurred since he just woke up. Also kind of raspy, which she loves.

"Not my fault you look pretty all the time," she replies. "I also just woke up a few minutes ago so give me a break. I wanted to admire my boyfriend before he woke up and started making comments that ruined the whole vibe."

He groans and rubs his face. He touches his facial hair and hums. "I gotta go get rid of this mess," he says. "Then you can admire me all you want, okay?"

Her eyes widen and Quinn begins to move to get out of bed. She quickly grabs his arm to stop him from getting any further.

"I like that mess," she finally admits to him. He turns back around and looks at her. She begins to talk before her brain can catch up to what she's saying. "I mean, you look really hot with that mess on your face. Except, I don't think it's a mess. I wish you wouldn't run off and shave it first chance you get."

Quinn blinks at her slowly like he's processing what she said to him. A smile grows on his lips and she presses her lips into a line.

"Come here," Quinn tells her as he lays back down. She blinks at him, confused. "I know you've thought about it. I've seen the way that you would look at me then excuse yourself to go use the bathroom." She feels her face get hot in embarrassment. She thought she was more subtle than she actually was.

She plays with her fingers while she watches Quinn get comfortable. "Quinn, I-"

"Come take a seat, pretty girl," he interrupts as he runs his fingers over his beard. "Sit on and ride my face. I know you want to so I am giving you what you want before I go shave."

Who is she to say no to him? He's offering so she might as well take it.

Without anymore hesitation, she moves so she's kneeling above his face with her knees on the pillow on either side of his head. Lucky for her, she's only wearing one of Quinn's Canucks t-shirts and a pair of underwear. Nothing else.

Quinn kisses the inside of her thigh right by her core while he pushes the fabric of the t-shirt up. She hums softly as her body finally begins to wake up. She feels the gentle scratch of his facial hair on her skin and she gnaws on her bottom lip. "Oh my God," she sighs.

"I haven't even done anything yet," Quinn laughs.

"Shut up and do something then," she retorts. "Please, Quinn." She's not above begging at this point.

He licks a stripe over her panties, which are soaked by now. Like she said, the thought alone makes her drip. His finger follows his tongue and she hums. Quinn pushes the fabric to the side and runs a finger through her soaked folds. She bites down on her bottom lip to keep from making any loud noises since it is morning and their neighbors are probably still sleeping.

She grabs onto the headboard above Quinn's head as he runs his tongue through her folds. "Fuck, Quinn!" She cries out. "Oh my God."

The feeling of the gentle scratch of his facial hair is almost too much for her. Quinn wraps his lips around her clit and hums, sending a shock through her body. It almost jumpstarts her own movements as she begins to roll her hips.

"That's it, baby," Quinn says against her core. "Take what you want."

His hands rest on her waist and he pulls her down so she's completely sitting on his face but he's still able to breathe. His tongue continues to run through her folds as she rolls her hips. Her core grinds across his face and she feels the scratch of his facial hair with each movement. She welcomes the new feeling. It only adds to her pleasure despite the beard burn she'll probably have when all this is over.

Quinn hums every so often, and she groans with every hum. Her grip on the headboard gets stronger the longer she moves. She's almost afraid that she'll lose her balance despite his hands keeping her from falling.

One of his hands slides up under the loose t-shirt and cups her breast. She throws her head back and lets out a borderline pornographic moan as she continues to ride Quinn's face. One of her hands flies to Quinn's messy hair, fingers finding a home.

He slides his other hand so his thumb can access her clit. He rubs the sensitive nub while continuing to run his tongue though her folds with each movement. "Oh my fucking- Quinn," she cries out. "Holy-"

"Look so pretty riding my face, pretty girl," Quinn mumbles. His words shoot straight to her core. "Fuck."

His thumb moves and slides into her. She gasps and her movement falters for a second while she recovers from the addition. "Quinn," she groans, holding the 'N' sound.

Between his tongue, his thumb, and his facial hair, she's not sure how she hasn't come all over his face by now. Her legs are shaking so she has to stop moving, but Quinn completely takes over despite being under her.

He speeds up his thumb for a second before switching fingers, using his pointer and middle fingers instead. She welcomes the familiar stretch.

His fingers and tongue are enough to bring her to the edge. She's white-knuckling the headboard with one hand while her other hand remains in Quinn's hair.

"Gonna come," she pants. "Quinn. I'm close."

"Told you to take what you want," Quinn replies. "So take what you want."

Quinn speeds up his fingers and curls them in a 'come here' motion. The gentle scratch of his facial hair turns less gentle as he speeds up his tongue movements, but she still loves it.

She throws her head back and cries out his name as she comes. She involuntarily rolls her own hips so her core grinds against his face again. Her fingers curl in his locks so she has something to hold on to as she reaches her climax. She loses her vision for half a second because of how hard her orgasm hits her.

Her body turns to jelly as she recovers. With Quinn's help, she's able to lie back down beside him. Her breathing is labored and she stares up at the ceiling, unable to move to look at her boyfriend.

All this morning showed her is that Quinn needs to grow out his facial hair more often because it made her come harder than she ever has before. She can't move for about ten minutes after her orgasm.

When she's fully conscious again, she looks over at Quinn. He didn't go and shave yet.

"I think I'm going to keep this for another day or two," he tells her. "Just for you. That is going to happen a few more times before it goes away."

She smiles and rolls so she can touch his face. "I'm going to need you to grow it out like this again soon because holy shit, Quinn," she giggles. "So hot. Felt so good."

Quinn matches her smile. "Maybe over the summer," he tells her. "No promises though."

"Gonna need my favorite seat back at some point."

"Next year when we make playoffs against for sure."

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[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[1:11 am]

Husband!Jaemin was certain he was going to love you until his dying breath. He loved you so much that being away from you for longer than a minute, and he meant it. There was a physical ache in his chest when you were both apart, or arguing, or mad at each other.

You were actually arguing now, and he should have felt that ache, but he didn't. If this were a cartoon, his pupils would be in the shape of hearts and he'd be kicking his feet back and forth.

"Do you realize how gross it is to go to the bathroom and fall into the toilet water?!" You exclaimed, running a hand over your sleep-mussed hair.

Yeah, oops. Jaemin had an unfortunate habit of leaving the toilet seat up. He was good about remembering to lower the seat after he finished his business, but could you really blame him when it was the middle of the night? He was tired, he'd reverted to his old, single guy habits and he went right back to sleep with you in his arms.

You continued to rant, your voice raising and you recounted how you'd already tripped over one of his haphazardly thrown shoes on the way to the bathroom. You told him that you didn't even want to get out of bed until the urge became too much and how you were in the middle some of the best sleep you'd had all week and the cold water on your bare backside was a horrible wake up call. "And honestly, it would have been fine if it were the daytime, but I was sleeping so well. Now, I just feel dirty and cold," you sighed, crossing your arms across your chest.

Jaemin nodded, "you're right, honey."

"You're not going to apologize?" You ask in a calm voice.

Jaemin pouted empathetically, reaching a hand out to pull you back under the covers and press his forehead to your own, "Love, I am so sorry. I will regret this misstep until the day I die and work every day to make up for it. Can you find it in that big, beautiful heart of yours to forgive me?"

You snorted, shoving his shoulder lightly, "you're forgiven. I just need to go shower to get rid of this icky feeling. I want my spot warm when I get back."

He heard the water in the shower turn on as he fluffed up your pillows. He fell back against his own pillows with a sigh, he knew better than to leave the toilet seat up. It was a bad habit that you'd kindly spent many months reminding him to keep in mind. He just hated that it had ruined your sleep. You'd been tossing and turning, waking up early, and going to bed late all week except for tonight. He really did feel bad.

You reentered the room in a new pair of pajamas, smelling fresh and still looking sleepy. Jaemin held a hand out for you and clicked off the bedside lamp while you got comfortable against him once again.

Jaemin rubs your back slowly, his voice quiet and low "I'm so sorry I forgot about the toilet seat, honey. I know how poorly you've been sleeping."

"I'm not upset anymore Jaemin, I promise. I know you were probably really tired too, just try to remember, alright?" You ask while nuzzling against his chest "I'm sorry I raised my voice. I shouldn't have but I was feeling really upset."

Jaemin hums in acknowledgement, nothing the way your speech is slowing with fatigue, "I like when you yell at me."

You laugh in surprise, "w-what?!"

He keeps you in a calm state, continuing to lull you to sleep with the slow circular patterns against your back. He responds quietly, "well, no. I like your complaints and our mundane arguments. It reminds me that we don't have bigger problems to be fighting about. We have a good life together, we're lucky. I love the reminder that I'm not some stupid, single guy living alone now. I'm a husband, I'm your husband and this is our home. I love it."

"You’re such a sap at 1 in the morning," you whisper, your words slurred from sleep, "I love you though."

Jaemin feels his eyes getting heavy and can't fight the smile when he hears your breathing even out. You're fast asleep again and his heart soars, "I love you more, honey."

[eufezco]

BUCKY'S SECOND FIRST TIME

bucky x fem!reader (smut with plot) no use of y/n

All of this... Bucky hadn't had time to think about when it would happen again, he didn't even think it would ever happen again. He didn't even think deserve to have that kind of intimacy with anyone, didn't think that anyone would want to be in that situation with him.

It's been decades and now his head was full of bizarre thoughts. He had nightmares every time he tried to get some sleep, so the idea of spending the night with somebody was completely out of the table. He was witnessing a complete stranger take over his friend's shield and identity. He had not crossed a name off his list of amends for weeks, he had not answered any of Sam's messages and his psychologist was putting more and more pressure on him.

But in all that chaos there was you who always showed him a kind smile, who always asked him how his day was when you saw him come into the bar, exhausted. You who had his favorite drink ready before he arrived and who looked at him with hearty eyes. You thought you were being too obvious but it had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way that he didn't even notice it.

The day he took Sam to your bar was when he realized, and not even on his own. You were thrilled that he finally introduced you to one of his friends (his only friend in fact) and Sam was so funny and he was always picking on Bucky which made their dynamic even more fun to watch. They arrived almost at closing time so it was just the three of you. That night you ended up closing two hours later, inviting them for a few beers and being walked home by the two of them since it was already very late at night.

—Dude, she's so into you —. Sam huffed a laugh while they walked back from your house.

Bucky arched his eyebrows in surprise and then frowned. —What?

—Oh come on, you gonna tell me you haven't noticed?

Bucky was getting more and more confused. —Noticed what?

Sam stopped on his feet and looked at Bucky in surprise. —Steve told me you used to be a heartthrob back in the day.

—Yeah, back in the day. When I was seventy years younger.

Sam rolled his eyes. —Two things. First, as much as I hate to admit it, you don't look a hundred and seven, and second, I can assure you that this girl is head over heels for you. —Bucky was silent, thinking, so Sam spoke again. —Ask her on a date.

So yes, he asked you out on a date. Well, if inviting you to his house for a drink could be considered a date. He didn't like to be seen in public places too much and fancy restaurants didn't go with him, so while he thought of something better for the second date, his house would work for this time. Bucky shook his head as he found himself thinking about a second date.

Bucky always tried to keep everything tidy, clutter annoyed him and made him even grumpier. But now as he let you walk into his house first he realized how empty it was. He barely had any furniture, only one chair, a small sofa, and a TV. He hadn't even bothered to buy a bed because he slept on the floor. He wondered what was going through your head when you saw his home.

—This is nice —. You stated. At first, you didn't realize how empty his apartment was, you were just appreciating that he had trusted you enough to take you to a place as private and intimate as his home. Then you did notice that some things were missing but you assumed that's all he needed.

Bucky was relieved when he heard those three words come out of your mouth.

You noticed how he kept his jacket and gloves on while he took out two glasses to pour you a drink. Whenever he came home the first thing he did was to take those two things off but with you there, it was different yet when he thought about it, he realized that it was fair that you knew and ran away if you wanted to. So when he caught you looking curious, he first got rid of his gloves, and you could already see the metallic fingers of his hand. Then he took off his jacket, revealing how the metal shaped his left arm.

—You're not going to ask about it? —Bucky thought he was getting ahead of you, saving you from the awkward moment of asking about what happened to him. He poured some liquor in the glasses.

—Do you want to be asked about it?

Bucky looked at you and shook his head. You nodded, understanding his decission. You figured he wouldn't want to talk about it, much less on a first date. Your question caught him off guard yet his answer came almost automatically. He didn't want to talk about it and it was the first time he had been given the option of not doing so.

The rest of the night went great. Bucky was very interested in everything you said. He didn't talk much yet you managed to get some information about him. He had a sister, his favorite fruit was plums, he enjoyed 40s music, and he was a cat person. Every time he told you something about himself, no matter how irrelevant it seemed, you found it fascinating.

You noticed that he was very observant, his icy blue eyes never stopped looking at you for a second. You found it cute, intimidating at times not knowing what thoughts went with those long, intense stares. His eyes were beautiful, captivating, so you could tell every time he broke eye contact to divert his gaze to your lips and then back to your eyes.

Each was on one side of his kitchen island, that way you could look at each other's faces while talking. You were leaning more and more on the table that separated you, taking advantage of the moments of laughter to get closer to each other until that way you kissed him.

At first, you felt him a little stiff even though the sigh that he had let out when you had finally kissed his lips told you otherwise. You parted ways. —Is this okay?

Bucky nodded and immediately after, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours again. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone that he didn't know if his lip movements were being too clumsy, if the clash of his teeth with yours was bothering you, or if his tongue slipping past your lips was okay. He did not know how to control his breathing that's why he let out little moans against your mouth, trying to catch his breath without having to leave your lips.

He felt like a teenager again. The tingling sensation in his lower abdomen made him want to run away and hide but at the same time did not want to part from your lips for anything in the world. He was afraid of the way you made him feel but at the same time he didn't want that feeling to ever go away.

Didn't know how or when but he ended up sitting on his couch with you on his lap. Your lips and his had come into perfect synchrony and the kiss was getting deeper and wetter. Oh God and he wasn't gonna complain. Your hands were pulling from the root of his hair, your hips rolled subtly against his crotch, his right hand was resting on your hips. Bucky felt how his jeans tightened right where you were sitting.

Bucky tried to keep his left arm away from you, holding your body on top of his just using his right one. He was aware that the touch of the metal was not the most pleasant in the world. It wasn't soft, it wasn't warm, it was nothing like a flesh-and-blood hand.

—It's okay. You can touch me, James —. You moaned against his mouth. Yet he was still a bit reluctant to do so.

In the end, you would have to be the one to gently grab his metal arm and guide his hand to your waist. You kept your hand on top of his metal one while pressing down so he could hold you as tight as he was doing with his other hand, also to assure him that it was okay. You moved your hand from him once you felt his metallic fingers carefully close and grip your body. You smiled in the middle of the kiss, the firm grip of both of his hands encouraged you to grind harder against his crotch.

You pulled his t-shirt over his head and allowed your fingers to travel down his abs until you reached the button and zipper on his jeans. Bucky hissed at the sudden contact and held your hips tighter.

—Wait —. Bucky said against your lips. He pulled away and you were afraid that you had done something wrong. All you had to do was pull down the zipper, but your hands immediately stopped what they were doing when he spoke. You ran your tongue over your lower lip, already missing Bucky's, and you noticed how pink and swollen his were. —It's been a long time since I —. He confessed.

—Oh. —You said in a sigh. —We can't stop if you—

—No. I just— I just wanted you to know. —Bucky groaned. —I'm sorry. I've ruined it. —He let his head fall on your shoulder.

You giggled and you brought your hands to his cheeks so that he would raise his head and look at you. —It's okay, James. You've not ruined anything. I'm glad you've told me. —You gave a quick peck to his lips. —I was just saying that if you want to stop or need to slow down I'm okay with that.

—I don't want to stop.

—Good. Me neither.

And Bucky crashed his lips against yours again. You finished what you started and unzipped his jeans while he pulled from the hem of your shirt and threw it away. Bucky cursed and brought his mouth to the skin of your breasts, using his lips to suck and kiss on it and his teeth for small bites. You moaned and pulled harder from his hair, making him groan. His hands wasted no time and right after they were unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans while his mouth left a trail of kisses from your boobs to your neck and collarbone until he reached your mouth again.

Your lifted your hips from his lap so your hand could sneak inside his underwear. Bucky did the same with your panties. Your fingers wrapped around his hard dick and Bucky's found their way to your clit. You moaned and closed your eyes shut when he started rubbing your bundle of nerves and Bucky's lips parted and let out all the air that he had in his lungs when your hand moved painfully slow from the tip of his cock to the base of it.

You pressed your foreheads together. Your thighs closed around his hand but he continued drawing circles on your clit and his mouth reached for your lips again. Bucky's hips thrust into your fist while some of his moans died in your mouth. He felt a wave of heat running through his body and that sweet knot formed in his lower belly.

—I need you inside, please —You whined.

You didn't have to beg anymore. You moved from his lap so you both could get rid of your jeans and underwear. You straddled him again, using your hands on his shoulders for stability when your fingers brushed the scarred skin that connected with the metal of his arm.

You noticed the worried expression on his face. He was looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for a reaction from you. A reaction of disgust. He could feel his chest rise and fall slowly because of his deep breathing and he was wondering what was going on in your head at the time.

You pressed your lips against his one more time, your hands moved to cup both of his cheeks. —It's okay. Just focus on me —. You mumbled into his mouth and he hummed in response.

Without stopping kissing him, your hands began to travel down. First his neck, then his broad shoulders, feeling again those scars he was so insecure about, and then his arms. His right one was strong, with perfectly defined muscles and the softest skin. His left one was cold and hard, not at all unpleasant to the touch. Your lips moving on his kept Bucky from overthinking.

He gasped when you reached his well-defined abdomen. You would have spent the whole night caressing and feeling his body under your fingertips but you were getting impatient. Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock to line it up at your entrance and gently lowered yourself. Bucky's mouth opened in a perfect "O" form as he gripped your waist tightly. You had to wait a few seconds to get used to the sensation before you started moving, he needed those seconds as well to get used to your tight walls squeezing him.

You started by rolling your hips against his, it was the best way to adjust to his size. Despite how wet you were you could feel that sweet sting caused by his width. You rested your forehead against his, you both were panting when you began to lift your hips and drop them back onto his cock. The sounds that came out of his mouth were music to your ears, the grunts coming directly from his chest made you vibrate.

You hugged him to feel him even closer. Bucky tried to hold on as hard as he could, he kissed your shoulder and softly sank his teeth into your skin there, getting a whine from you, but it was too much. Every time he felt his dick going fully inside you, the knot on his stomach became tighter, every time he heard you moaning his name in his ear he did his best to last a little bit longer but in the end, he found it impossible.

Bucky emptied himself inside you while he dropped his forehead on your shoulder and apologized for coming so quickly. —Don't worry. We have all night —. You played with the hair on the back of his head and allowed him to come back from his high.

And you spent the whole night until you heard the birds chirping. The stamina he had thanks to the super soldier serum was truly something else and he made it up to you until you felt completely disconnected from your own body and Bucky had to snuggle you next to him on the couch to let you sleep.

Bucky didn't sleep that night. He was afraid that if he did, he'd hurt you or scare you with his nightmares so he stayed awake all night, but he didn't mind either. He had his right arm around you and he held you against his body, your head was on his chest as well as one of your hands. He felt the warmth of your naked body against his under the blanket.

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

Here's a little "nobody knows we're back together" ficlet that I definitely didn't write while avoiding the prompts in my inbox.😅🙊

---

"Buck! Where are you? I've been banging on your door for the last fifteen minutes, your neighbours are going to call the cops on me soon." Chim said when Buck finally answered his phone.

"Chim? What's going on?" He asked, still half asleep.

Two minutes ago he'd been warm and comfortable, asleep in Tommy's arms, planning on enjoying the fact neither of them had anywhere to be for the next three days, and now his brother in law was yelling at him over the phone.

"What's going on is that I'm outside your door and I need you to open up before I get arrested for disrupting the peace."

"That's not a thing." Buck mumbled as he reluctantly untangled himself from Tommy's grip and looked around for something to wear.

He put the call on speaker as he pulled a hoodie over his head and was vaguely aware of Chim telling him it was most definitely a thing while putting on a pair of sweats that may or may not be his.

"Where are you going? Come back to bed." Tommy mumbled, reaching out for him. His hair was a mess and there were pillow creases in his cheek, but Buck thought he'd never looked better.

"Someone's at the door. I'll be right back." he leaned down for a kiss and only just managed to resist the urge of letting his boyfriend pull him back into bed with him.

"Hurry back."

"Yeah, I'll get rid of him and then I'm all yours."

"I can hear you, you know." Chim's voice came through the phone. "And will you just open the damn door already?"

"I'm coming, relax." Buck mumbled and dropped a kiss in Tommy's hair before making his way down the stairs. He hoped whatever Chim's problem was, would be an easy fix and he'd be back in Tommy's arms soon.

They'd been back together for a few weeks now, after Buck had finally decided to call Tommy, and then show up on his doorstep when he hadn't answered.

They'd yelled and cried until they'd both been exhausted and collapsed into bed together for the best night's sleep either of them had had since the break up.

The next morning they'd decided to keep things to themselves for a while, to actually enjoy dating and getting to know each other without friends and family getting involved.

As far as he knew nobody suspected anything, though that could be changing soon.

Buck rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened the door.

"Finally! Your neighbour from down the hall is this close to calling the cops on me." Chim held up his thumb and pointer finger, barely an inch apart, as he walked into the loft, followed by Jee-yun who was holding onto his other hand, looking unsure of what was going on.

"What? Which one?"

"Does it matter?"

"No I suppose not." Buck mumbled, closing the door behind Chim. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I'm here to drop off your niece, who you agreed to watch today while both me and Maddie picked up extra shifts."

"Wait, what? When did I agree to that? Why are you working an extra shift?"

"I don't know, the second child that's on its way maybe? Or the family trip to Korea we've got planned for next year? That I told you about. More than once."

"I... Uh... Yeah... Ok... Right."

And whoever you've got up there can either leave or get down here and deal with you watching your niece." Chim said, raising his voice slightly and yelling up the stairs." I heard you talking to someone so don't try the there's no-one there thing."

Buck sighed.

There was no way Chim was going to let this go. And if he was, Jee would tell him or Maddie by the time they came to pick her up.

"Babe, are you awake? Just put some clothes on and get down here a minute."

"Babe? You call your hook up babe?" Chim asked but Buck ignored him.

They heard the bed creak and there was some shuffling upstairs.

"I think I've got your sweats, just grab mine." Buck called out and did his best to ignore the looks Chim was giving him.

"You've got a guy up there? Well good for you, getting back out there after Tommy. You're not getting out of babysitting though."

Buck gave him a slight shrug and just kept watching the top of the stairs.

He could tell the exact moment Tommy came into view and Chim recognised him without even watching either of them.

Tommy slowly walked down the stairs, still half asleep, and wearing Buck's clothes. He gave Chim a half wave as he shuffled past him and over to Buck.

"Morning." he pressed a dry kiss to Buck's lips and then turned to face Chim. "Morning Howie. I hope you'll forgive me for not giving you a good morning kiss, I haven't brushed my teeth yet."

"But you will kiss me before brushing your teeth?" Buck teased and Tommy tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

"I think we both know I've done a lot more than that without brushing my teeth and you didn't seem to mind."

Buck laughed a little but decided not to argue with him.

"When did this happen? When did you get back together? Are you back together?"

"We are." Tommy confirmed, slipping an arm around Buck's waist and sleepily resting his head on his shoulder.

"We got back together a few weeks ago but we wanted to keep it quiet for now." Buck explained. "But I guess everyone will know within the hour now."

Chim looked at them, trying to process the information, until suddenly the loud music from one of Jee's favourite shows started blaring through the loft.

Buck kind of regretted teaching her how to work his TV.

"I... You... But..." Chim stammered then focused on Tommy. "Wait... When you blew me off last week when I wanted to take you out to karaoke..."

"I had plans with Evan."

"I can't believe it." he mumbled and turned to Buck. "But you're still baking."

"We bake together. And some of the stuff I've brought in the past few weeks was store bought." Buck explained. "We just wanted to enjoy being together without everyone else getting involved. I'm just... tired of everyone telling me what to do or what I feel. I want to be with him, I love him."

Tommy lifted his head and smiled.

"I love you too." he said and the two of them shared a kiss.

"I... am happy for you guys." Chim settled on. "and you're going to tell me exactly how and when this happened." he gestured to the two of them. "But I'm running late for my shift and we need the money so..." he trailed off and quickly walked over to Jee. "Sweetheart, daddy has to go to work now, ok? You be good for your uncle Buck and uncle Tommy."

Jee nodded, barely paying attention to her father, eyes fixed on the TV screen. Chim kissed the top of her head and turned back to Buck and Tommy.

"Maddie will pick her up after her shift. She'll text you when she's on her way." he told them, making his way to the door. "You owe me a drink and a night of karaoke, Kinard."

"Sure. Text me. We'll pick a date."

"Sure. If you think you can fit me in between work and making out with my brother in law." Chim joked. "Ok I have to go. Have a good day guys, and please don't traumatise my daughter." he laughed and walked out the door, only to come back in right away. "Don't think this means you can elope when you get married. I need to see you all dressed up and standing up in front of everyone. Just so I can remind you I got you together." he paused and looked at Tommy. "Just don't give him a clipboard."

[stars4ani]

i love ur blog ur writing is so good!!!! 🎀

Could you write for rafe x sub!reader who wakes up in the middle of the night crying for rafe bc she’s horny sjjskaks

thank u ur the sweetest ugh 🤍 and godddd anon this did something to me… i hope i did it justice

nsfw 18+

tw dacryphilia

maybe it was the weather, maybe everything was just too much, but today had gone so painfully slow. on top of that, rafe wasn’t home, out golfing with his friends all day. it was late and you decided to just sleep it off, but all you could do was toss and turn.

you awaken to the door opening, it’s still awfully dark out but you force yourself out of bed to greet your boyfriend.

rafe’s cologne intoxicates all of your senses as you hold him and take in his scent, the lump in your throat getting heavier. tears fall down your cheeks as you leave chaste kisses on his forehead.

“missed you so much, it’s so late now” you whisper, voice breaking.

he’s slightly taken aback by this, but he knows you’re emotional so it’s nothing he’s not used to by now.

“shit baby, was just a few hours…” he chuckles, raising an eyebrow as he takes in the way your nightgown rides up and hangs low at the neckline. “what’s wrong, you need somethin’?” his tone becoming more playful as he becomes aware of what’s really going on.

your lip quivers as you look up at him, pouting as he wipes your tears. “jus’ want you” you whine, barely audibly.

“cryin’ cause you’re horny? god, didn’t think it was that bad” he mocks in disbelief, large hands resting on your hips as he backs you up towards the bed, lightly pushing you down.

the feel of his slightly chapped lips against your warm plush ones sends butterflies straight to your core. you struggle to remove his pants as you claw at the zipper, amusing him even further.

“slow down, m’not goin anywhere baby” he smirks as he swats your hand away, getting rid of his own pants, followed by your thin nightgown.

you’re barely on all fours, your upper body immobile as rafe pushes himself into you, tight walls pulling him impossibly deeper. his large hand rests on your back, pushing you down and keeping you still. regardless, you find it hard to keep still because he’s just so big, tip abusing your poor cervix, causing you to cry out. you’re suddenly on your back, strong arms using your shoulders as leverage as he looks down at you, his coarse thumb wipes a tear off of your flushed cheek.

“wanted it real bad didn’t you?” he says, tone dripping with faux sympathy

you’re too fucked out to respond.. he pulls you up slightly by the neck, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

“didn’t you?” he repeats, his thrusts becoming sloppier

“yes- fuck rafe- yes, you’re the only one that can make me feel good” your voice trembling as you tell him exactly what he wants to hear

“good, keep talking, wanna hear your voice”

[jjscrybaby]

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (period, cramps, blood stains, loving bf but it should be the norm!)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Usually you’d know when you were coming to that time of the month, a day or two before you’d start to get cramps, your boobs would ache and you’d be extra grouchy, you’d be well prepared for Mother Nature to come knocking at the door. That’s probably why you were more so confused than annoyed when you woke up with a sharp pain in your stomach.

It was still dark out, you rubbed your eyes tiredly as you checked your phone for the time: 4:37am. You groaned quietly, moving to lay back down to go back to sleep when that familiar stabbing pain hit once again. You were more aware now, more conscious, and you knew exactly what that meant.

You pulled the covers back, ready to quickly go and put a pad on and get back into bed, when you spotted the dark red stain that had made its way onto the sheets. Instantly, tears welled up in your eyes and anxiety gnawed at your chest. You looked to your left, finding JJ sleeping soundly beside you.

JJ wasn’t a child. Deep down, you knew he would hardly flinch at the fact you’d bled all over his sheets, god knows worse has happened on that bed. But, your emotions were all out of whack and a sob ripped its way through you.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” JJ asked tiredly, instantly sitting up as if ready to attack.

“I’m sorry, Jayj,” you cried, covering your face with your hands.

“Why’re you sorry, baby? You cheat on me in your dream? It’s a’ight, ain’t real,” he soothed, arms wrapping around you as he tried to pull you back into the comfort of his arms.

“No— no,” you argued, pushing his arms off you. You let out another whine, feeling embarrassed to tell him what had happened. You wished you could just get him to leave the room so you could change the sheets and pretend nothing had happened.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he pleaded, leaving a kiss on your bare shoulder. “I can’t help if I don’t know.”

“I started my period,” you sniffled, a prominent pout on your face as your eyes shone with tears. “Got it on…” you trailed off, waving your hand towards the sheets.

He let out an ah sound, nodding. “Alright, baby. No need for the waterworks. Shit happens. Why don’t you go get cleaned up, do what you gotta do, I’ll sort the sheets out.”

“Really?” You asked croakily, looking back at him.

JJ let out a soft laugh, more like a coo, as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Yes, really. Don’t be silly, baby. You got cramps? Think there’s some meds somewhere around here.”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, your hand coming to cover your stomach.

“Go on, the quicker you get sorted the quicker you can get back into bed. Sarah’s got pads in the bathroom already, I’ll deal with everythin’ else.” With one last peck, he sent you on your way to the bathroom.

You had a quick shower, the flow was heavier than you thought and you couldn’t just get back into bed like this. You put your pyjamas back on and by the time you came back, the sheets were changed, there was a hot water bottle waiting on the bed, a glass of water and two little pills on the bedside table. Not to mention, your loving boyfriend sat up waiting for you.

“Better?” He checked as you took the pills, crawling into bed next to him. “Got you this.” He held up the hot water bottle.

“Thanks, Jay,” you whispered, a little tearfully. It wasn’t like he wasn’t always attentive when you were on your period, but something about tonight just made you feel extra lucky.

“Can thank me by getting your cute-ass back into bed with me,” he smirked, opening up his arms. “Let me know if those pills don’t work, there are other ways to get rid of cramps, y’know.”

“Mhm, rain check,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you closed your eyes. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he whispered back, hand resting on your back with the hot water bottle taking place on your stomach.

[quietstormxr]

Home

Part 2 of 'Forgotten'

Angst, Fluff

Poll Chosen : Xaden Riorson x Reader

Summary: After leaving Navarre behind, you promise yourself you will fight with or without your dragon and beloved. Fighting though, for some reason always leads you to Xaden.

A/N: FW/IF Spoilers.

Word Count: >28k (settle in and get comfy)

I really hope y'all enjoy this one. Let me know what you think.

Part 1

What does one do when they run away from their dragon and desert their war college? 

Hide, of course. 

Pausing at a copse of trees, you sink down to your knees and pull the now tattered cloak as firmly around your shoulders as you can. The bitter chill of the wind has begun to settle into your bones as you miss the warmth of a roaring fire and warm bed.

Days of traveling by foot have taken a grueling toll on your body. Though you haven’t gone hungry, thanks to your foresight of paying attention to infantry during RSC missions, the small game that you’ve caught and cooked over small fires has not done much to satisfy your hunger. The fire, in turn, barely warms your hands and feet when the night chill settles in.

As your head rests against the back of a tree, you take a deep breath trying to clear your mind. Even though you succeeded in your plan to slip away, it doesn’t take away the hurt that has twisted like a knife in your heart every step growing more painful than the last. Taking shallow breaths, you try to will away the devastation that seems to settle in your entire being.

The connection to your dragon has seemed to go dormant, a hollow feeling taking its place in your soul. You’re unsure if it will ever break completely, but you haven’t tried to pull towards it either. 

Reflecting on the bond, you can’t help but wonder if your dragon is glad to be rid of a rider that let themselves fall into the background. You feel a sense of cowardice and guilt wash over you at leaving everyone to fight the coming war. It’s that heartache of being a coward, for your dragon and beloved, that finally solidified a decision for your probably short future. 

As you were already in Poromiel, you knew there was no going back to Navarre. Besides, the Poromish have been fighting for much longer and are attacked more often if your experience in Resson was anything to go by.  

A few days prior you came across a small village, the people there wary of you dressed in all black leathers. Those reactions caused you to immediately find the nearest tailor and buy a new set of clothes with the little money you had with you.  The tailor was obviously distrusting of you, but no one was going to turn down coin when living in a small village, never knowing when your next sale would be. 

Although you purchased a wool shift dress, you didn’t have enough for a new cloak, hence the tattered holes that riddled yours from days of sleeping in the woods. 

Taking a deep breath, you lay down to get some sleep for the night hoping that the villagers were right, and you will arrive in Pavis in the morning. 

At the first sign of dawn, you sit up stretching out your back and muscles that have cramped during the night from sleeping on the hard ground. As soon as you feel blood flowing back into your extremities, you stand slowly wiping the sleep from your eyes. Staggering forward, you head toward the small stream you had noticed before picking this area to camp for the night. 

As soon as you arrive you drop down and splash the cold water on your face and drink your fill of the clean, cool water. The shock of cold sends a shiver down your body, doing wonders in pushing the last vestiges of sleep from your mind.

You begin walking in the same southeastern direction the villagers had directed you in just four days ago. Letting a small groan fall from your lips, you try to forget the sluggish feeling that has overtaken your body from so many days of travel. 

It’s as if Amari and Zinhal have finally thought to bless you as you finally see a large town come into view. A sigh of relief escapes you as you finally see a town that rivals Chantara and not just a small village with nothing there.

You drag your tired body to the first tavern you see and take a deep breath at the smell of spiced, roasted meats filling your lungs. A second later, your stomach growls loudly in protest of not being filled. Sitting down at the bar, you open your pack fishing for the remaining coin.

Pulling out your small purse, you drop the contents on the bar in front of the barkeep.

“What can I get for this?” You ask, hoping beyond hope that you can get something filling. 

“Not much. I can probably get you a small bowl of stew and a glass of wine.” The barkeep replies giving you a slightly suspicious look. 

It dawns on you that the man can probably hear the accent you have when you speak the Krovlish language. You may be proficient, but it’s been almost impossible to hide your accent.

“That would be lovely.” You say hoping that you can seem as harmless as possible. At least you know that no one will see the daggers that are strapped to your body since the shift you bought covers them well. 

As soon as you exchange the coins, you are presented with a small steel bowl filled with a delicious smelling stew of beef and local vegetables. You dig in, savoring every single bite that begins to warm you from the inside out, letting out a contented sigh as the food hits your empty stomach. As you continue eating, you can see the barkeep watching you from the corner of your eye. In order to beat some of the suspicion, you take the chance and begin talking. 

“Can I ask if you are currently looking for any help?” You ask as you begin to bring the wine cup to your lips. 

The barkeep, a middle-aged man with bronzed skin and dark blue eyes that are clearly analyzing your motives. “You don’t seem like you’re from here. Where are you coming from?”

At the question, you startle slightly but make sure to hide your surprise at the question. “I’ve been displaced since the invasion in Resson.”

You decide that being as truthful as possible will be the only way to go, hopefully garnering the trust of the man you are currently speaking with. The barkeep continues to look you over, but you don’t miss the pitying gaze that he gives you. You can’t help but scoff internally as you realize how in the dark the people of Navarre have become, but obviously venin attacks are openly spoken about.

“I’m looking for a bed and to make some money.” You begin to explain exactly what you’re trying to find. “Eventually, I hope to join the rest of your military to fight against the threat that’s being ignored past your borders.”

“And why would I believe that? You’re obviously Navarrian. What if you’re just here to cause trouble?” The barkeep drolls on, but the calculation in his eyes is obvious. “Besides, I thought only a riot of dragon riders helped to fight in Resson.”

The wince is impossible to keep off your face. Taking a large sigh, you let everything out. You tell the barkeep that you were a rider, having since left your dragon, Basgiath, and Navarre behind. You try to convey the conviction you feel about helping the people of Poromiel and the overarching continent, even recounting the tale of the little girl you saved. As you begin to finish, you can see the hard lines of the barkeep’s expression begin to smooth. 

“I’m not sure how you pulled off leaving a dragon behind, as well as Basgiath, but you seem genuine.” He says matter-of-factly. “Tell you what…We’ll have a trial. You help around the tavern with any tasks given and you can stay on the cot near the kitchens.”

“And, if you’re serious about joining the war effort, I’ll get in touch with those I know in the military and see if I can get you involved.” The thankful smile that falls across your face is a relief from the sadness and fear that had gripped you over the last few days. 

“That sounds wonderful.” There’s no way to hide the earnestness in your voice. “I appreciate your kindness and willingness to give me a chance. Things haven’t been easy the last few days.”

“Well, if you’re going to be staying here, introductions are in order. My name is Redvers, but you can call me, Red. Ceridwen is my wife, and she runs the kitchens.” Red holds out his hand to shake and you take it enthusiastically, happy to finally be able to have someone to at least converse with and give you a chance. 

“I’m Y/N. I really won’t be able to thank you enough for this.”

He chuckles. “Don’t thank me too much yet, you haven’t worked or have even seen where you’ll be sleeping.”

“I doubt any cot could be worse than the cold, hard ground.” You mutter ruminating on how nice it will be to sleep somewhere other than on the forest floor.

“Come, you can begin working tomorrow. Tonight, you can rest and get settled.”

Red leads you to a small room that is only large enough to house a cot and small table. You look back at him and smile as you take your pack off and place it next to the table. 

“Let me know if you need anything, the tavern is usually open late into the evening.” Red says before turning and closing the small door. 

You immediately try to light a mage light and as you try for the third time, it finally hits you. All the powers you had are now gone. You fumble in the room until you find a candle and a flint to light it. As soon as the small flame is lit, you fall to the cot and your head falls back onto the pillow. 

Finally feeling some semblance of safety, all the emotions you’d drowned out since a silver haired girl entered the scene crashes down at once. 

Staring at the beams of the ceiling, you try to normalize your breathing, but its useless. Your body has gone into shock, panic overtaking your every sense. Breathing is erratic, and tears are streaming down your face in a torrent as your body begins to shiver and shake in response to your breaking. You turn to the side and curl up into the tightest ball you possibly can and let yourself fall completely apart. 

You’re unsure of when or how you fell asleep, but as you wake with a pounding headache, you realize at some point in the night your body must’ve given out. The emotion that overtook you taking every ounce of energy you had left in your body. As you trudge from the bed, you look to see someone brought a pitcher of water while you’ve been out. 

Pouring yourself a cup of water and staring out of the small window you hadn’t noticed when you entered, you try to take a deep breath though all you feel is a hollowness. As you stare into the night sky, the sadness of now being alone settles like a heavy cloak. All you can do is count your breaths and hope that you made the right decision. 

A few days go by, and you find yourself getting into the groove of assisting in the tavern. You begin noticing the townspeople that seem to come in regularly. A few fliers have also made themselves known, although you know they have no idea their enemy is feeding them stew and serving them wine and ale. 

You grow close to both Red and Ceridwen, learning of their story and their families. You never thought you would find such wonderful and caring people, especially when you just randomly walked into this space. They welcomed you as if you were the daughter they never had. 

Ceridwen began taking you under her wing and helping cook in the kitchens, teaching you recipes you’d never seen before. It was there that you could hear the conversations and gossip from those coming through the tavern. 

“I don’t know what he thinks he’s going to accomplish with Sorrengail.” Your ears immediately perk up at the name going to stand closer to the serving window of the kitchen.

“Look Cat, it doesn’t matter what he’s doing either way. The betrothal is null and void. There is no reason for you to bother with Riorson any longer.” Your eyes flash as you realize who they are talking about, but then they furrow trying to place the name Cat. 

“You and I both know he’s not really in love with her. If there’s one thing that I learned being betrothed to the bastard is that he’s incapable of feelings besides calculation and revenge.” You’re unsure why but her words about Xaden make your blood begin to boil. 

“Just because he wasn’t emotionally available for you doesn’t mean he’s emotionless. Stop being so petty.” The other girl counters, obviously trying to put this Cat girl in her place.

“Secondly, if that is the case, what would you call the other girl that always had him distracted.” 

“Oh her, she was never a threat. Besides, look how easily she was left behind. The group didn’t even notice they were leaving with a riderless dragon when flying out of Resson. Some feelings he had for her if she was that forgettable.” The defiant tone in Cat’s voice causes a stone to settle in your stomach. 

With the last statement, you move out of earshot of anyone in the tavern. The knife that’s been embedded in your heart since you disappeared turns a little tighter making it hard to breathe. You can’t help but wonder when the knife will just explode and either kill you or leave you so emotionless you can’t be hurt anymore.

The rest of the day passes as if molasses through the eye of a needle. When you are finally able to retire for the night, you fall on your cot and try to breathe through the heartache that seemed to settle inside you, a tight band constricting further and further across your chest. 

When you rise the next morning, you are more set than ever that you need to get to the front lines of this war. If you are going to lose your life, you might as well lose it while trying to fight the real enemy, maybe then the hollow feeling in your chest will stop. 

As soon as you can, you go to speak with Red. “Have you had any luck finding someone to connect you with the military?”

The surprised look on Red’s face is almost comical, maybe he didn’t think you were serious about that part. He motions for you to sit down at a stool, and he sits next to you.

“I spoke with one of the commanders of the drifts. She has instructed that if you are interested, you will have to bring your supplication to Viscount Tecarus in Cordyn.” Red finishes and he looks at you directly as if to ascertain if this is what you want.

“How exactly do I get to Cordyn from here?” Asking that question makes his face fall slightly.

“Are you sure that is the path you wish to take? Ceridwen and I are more than happy to help you and let you continue living here. We’ve both come to enjoy your company over the past weeks.” The sad look that Red gives you causes you to let out a sad smile. You never thought deserting your position as a rider would end up leading you to people who had become surrogate parents. 

You get up and sling your arms around Red. Although startled, he wraps his arms around your waist in a warm hug. 

“You really have no idea how much it warms my heart to hear you say that.” You pause trying to find the right words. “But all my life I’ve been left behind. Now, I have the opportunity to stand up for those who cannot and if I fall doing so, at least I know I died honorably.”

You can see the sadness in his face as he comes to terms with the fact that you won’t be changing your mind. Red gives you a small smile and squeezes your hand.

“Give me a few days and I will help get you to Cordyn. On foot or by carriage it takes several days, but I may be able to get you a flight with one of the gryphons.”

Your eyes widen as you take in his words. “Would a gryphon even allow someone besides their flier on their back? Won’t they know that I was a dragon rider?” You can’t help the thought and fear that grips you. 

“Yes, you would be allowed to fly. And no, they won’t know you were a rider.” Red says with so much conviction your brows knit together. “You see I know a little about bonds, between gryphons and dragons.”

“When a bond is tested by the rider or flier, it can be broken if the gryphon or dragon chooses to do so. I’m unsure if your dragon has chosen to break the bond, as its hard for a human to decipher, but the gryphon won’t be able to sense it as it is buried.”

“How exactly do you know all of that?” You can’t keep the confused look off your face at the new information.

“Because back in my younger days, I was a gryphon flier myself.” Your eyes widen as you take in the new information. 

“Why didn’t you kill me on-site?” The question forms unbidden on your tongue and escapes before you can stop it.

Red gives you a warm smile before stating simply. “Because you fought for those who needed help. You chose to aid someone you were taught was the enemy without question and saved a young girl. Valor like that is worth more than just being classified as a dragon rider or gryphon flier.” 

Without even forming the thought, you find yourself back in his warm embrace. “Thank you for trusting me and recognizing something in me that most other people seem to take for granted.”

“I think you underestimate how many people see your loyalty, honor, and valor. However, I do believe that all those qualities can be taken for granted. It’s not uncommon to be left behind when you quietly lift people up.” He pauses with a thoughtful look on his face. “It isn’t usually until those people lose the person that held them high that they realize everything they had and lost.”

With those words, Red leaves you to get to work getting the tavern set up for the day. 

The parting words seem to continue to float in your mind for days. You never wanted to be taken for granted, but it seemed like your entire life people always just assumed you would be there. You knew that your nature to be a safe haven in the storms of life for everyone was something people loved. However, when it was calm, you always felt that people would let you drift behind. A forgotten force only needed to bolster someone in times of trouble.

Thinking your time at Basgiath over, you realized that you had always been a haven for Xaden and his group. You were constantly there trying to help them in every way you could. What you didn’t realize was that they played you for a fool, taking advantage of your willingness to help. 

Reflecting, you remember all the times you told them about the weapons that Emmetterio would have brought in and even showed them the forge at Basgiath. You had signed up for weapons maintenance, and they ended up having clear access to everything they were looking for from you. You shake your head as all the small things you missed come crashing down. 

Luckily today was a rare occasion where Ceridwen had you going to the market to pick up supplies, so you weren’t trying to serve anyone as the reality of everything began to crash into you. 

You stop on your way to the market and let yourself sink down on a large rock not far from the road. You want to cry, but you just don’t have any tears left to give. Time and time again you feel like you were just a pawn in someone’s game. 

Anger at yourself, Xaden, and everyone that you considered a friend at Basgiath begins to make your blood heat. How could you have been so naïve?

With a tumult of emotions roaring through your body, you head back to the tavern, the market all but forgotten. A new determination coils inside your mind as you realize the only way to get through these feelings is to be useful. You want to get lost in the adrenaline of war, of putting your life on the line and not caring the outcome.

As if Red can read your thoughts, the minute you return to the tavern he is waiting with a dark-haired man in form fitting brown leathers. You pull up short not expecting to have anyone expecting your arrival.

“Ah, just who I was looking for.” Red says as he gestures for you to join him and his companion. 

You begin forward hesitantly not really knowing how to proceed with someone that is so visibly a flier. All of your instincts from years of hearing they were the enemy causing your trepidation to rise, though you try to tamp it down as Red gives you a look of assurance. You take a deep calming breath and know that you must put your trust in the man that has helped you over the last two months.  

“Y/N, this is Drake Cordella.” Red says motioning to the man next to him. Drake immediately puts his hand out to shake yours and gives you a warm smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Drake says warmly, and you give him a small nod and smile in return while shaking his hand firmly.

“Pleasure to meet you as well. I’m assuming that Red has informed you on my want to join the war effort.” You decide bluntness about the whole situation is better than trying to skirt around the edges. 

“Yes, he’s filled me in on your situation shall we say.” A questioning look is immediately shot to Red who is still just smiling back at you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Drake is a close friend of mine. He won’t divulge any information if you wish to keep it secret.” Red reassures you letting your heart settle a little. 

“I assure you, giving up any information on you is the last thing I want to do. However, I am curious as to how things are for you since being separated from your bond for so long.” Taking a look around the tavern, you can’t help the unease that settles at talking about this topic in the open.

“Would you both mind talking somewhere a little more private? I haven’t gone this long without being discovered to out myself now.” You ask, hoping you can go to Red’s office that is at the back and soundproof.

“Of course, lets head to my office.” Red says leading the way to the back.

As soon as the three of you are inside and comfortable, you take a deep breath and share the details of the past two months with them. Divulging the way your bond seems to be underneath a glass layer or buried at the bottom of a clear lake, you can still sense the pull, but it has weakened enormously. Confirming that you haven’t been able to communicate with your dragon or even draw any semblance of power. Turning on mage lights, powering pens, opening and locking doors with magic, all seem to be lost to you with the bond being silent. 

They both seem to listen in rapt fascination. You realize it may not be ideal to tell the ‘enemy’ all this information, but you are certain that you won’t be seeing any Navarrians any time soon. While talking, you watch Drake move to brace his elbows on his knees as if you are telling the most fascinating story he’s ever been told.

“You were one of the riders that fought in Resson?” Drake questions, his face becoming one of contemplation. 

“Yes, I rescued a young girl and killed a venin before, as some would say, I deserted my riot.” You bring your head down to the floor suddenly ashamed of your actions. 

“None of that.” You catch Drake waving his hand off noncommittally at your comment. “You obviously don’t know this, but your disappearance is well known in Poromiel. I believe those in Navarre believe you are dead, at least I believe that is part of the story Riorson and Sorrengail spun.”

Your nose crinkles and stomach sours at the mention of both Xaden and Sorrengail, two names you hope you’d never hear again, let alone see.

“You see, I believe you have someone looking very intently for your whereabouts.” You can’t help the scoff that immediately leaves your lips. If there is anything you won’t believe its that anyone from Navarre is looking for you. 

“Besides, I believe your dragon has kicked up a bit of a fuss for those in the vale if the rumors are to be believed.” You stare back at Drake not believing how much he seems to know about you and your situation. Shaking your head, you decide its time to now get back down to the real business and not idle gossip. 

“Will any of that deter you from taking me to help the Poromish with this war?” You question. “You see, I don’t rightly care about parsing through any attachments to Navarre or any of the people in it. However, I do care about helping as much as I can to eliminate the threat of the venin.”

A sly smile marks a change in Drake’s demeanor moving past the questioning of your ties to Navarre. 

“I respect that is your decision. Red and I have discussed this, and I wanted to see if you would like to accompany me to Cordyn to meet my uncle.” Drake informs.

“If meeting with the Viscount is the only way that I can prove my intention to aid, then I’m ready to leave whenever you are.” The conviction in your voice makes Drake give you a curt nod, even as Red gives you a sad smile.

“Ceridwen and I are going to miss you, Y/N.” Red says sincerity lining every word. “Please know that you will always have a home here.”

Those words cause you to immediately stand and cross the room, wrapping your arms tightly around the man that welcomed you warmly into his domain. 

“No words will convey how thankful I am that you took a chance on me. Thank you for your loyalty, comfort, and love. Without those things, I’m not sure if I would’ve survived much longer.” You whisper for only him to hear. “I will be forever grateful to you for absolutely everything you’ve done for me.”

After giving him another tight squeeze, you head to your rooms to begin packing the few things that were yours. A light knock on the door brings your attention away from combing through the last of the items. Before you can say a word, Ceridwen comes in carrying a small box and a sad smile on her lips.

“Red told me that you’ll be heading out with Drake soon.” She says matter-of-factly moving to stand at your side while you give a small nod. “You may not have been with us long but know that you’ll always be like a daughter to us.”

As she finishes, she hands out the small box to you. You take it and can’t help the gasp that escapes you as you open it. Inside a black velvet box is a gold necklace with a small round pendant. You examine the pendant, and your eyebrow raises at the runes carved into one side. Ceridwen goes to take the necklace from you and places it on your neck. 

“Keep this on you at all times, especially in Cordyn.” She states firmly. “You may or may not know this, but fliers usually have gifts that entail mind work.”

She pauses as if thinking through her words as she grabs your shoulders and turns you around. “You can trust Drake, but there are those who – if they find out who you are- will do anything to make your life miserable.”

Staring back at Ceridwen, you know that the words she is giving you are for your benefit, not to scare you or coerce you to stay. 

“Thank you.” You begin as you wrap her in a hug just as fierce as the one you gave her husband. “I know we may not cross paths again, but please know how much you and Red mean to me. I told him already, but there aren’t enough thank you’s in the world to give you for everything that you’ve done for me.”

Ceridwen hugs you back just as fiercely before stepping away, you must take a deep breath when she steps back and you see the tears swimming in her eyes.

Not even an hour later, you’ve shouldered your pack and dressed in the only pants and shirt that you had which happened to be some old clothes of Red’s. As you walk out of the tavern, it’s impossible not to turn and give it a once over, committing every small crack, hole, and crevice to memory. Since you had started at Basgiath three years ago, you were unsure if you’d ever be in another place that hurt your heart so much to leave, but now here you are.

As you walk towards Drake, you can see the outline of his gryphon in the distance. The warmth and sadness that you felt leaving the tavern now turning into fear at the creature in front of you. 

Obviously sensing your trepidation, whether from your expression or the way your walk slowed, Drake holds out his hand as if in comfort. 

“I know this will be intimidating, but I promise he won’t hurt you.” Even though his words mean to placate your fear, you can’t help the raise of one of your brows in challenge.

“D-Does h-he know that I’m a dragon rider?” Your voice slides into a quiet whisper as you ask the last part of the question.

Drakes warm chuckle begins to ease the tension that has settled in your stomach. “Yes, just like your dragon, its impossible to get him out of my head.”

You look at Drake in fascination that he can seem to break the tension you’re feeling without doing more than say just the right thing.

“Are you always so comforting? Or do you have some sort of agenda here?” Your hand flies to your mouth in horror that you couldn’t stop your words. Worry is short-lived though when Drake lets out a warm booming laugh.

“I promise I have no ulterior motives.” A cocky smirk falling on his lips. “But I can’t help being born with such a charming nature.”

“And there it is.” You begin to tease as your tension continues to lighten. “I was wondering when your cocky side was going to come out.”

Without even realizing, his teasing had made you completely forget that you were headed directly for his gryphon. As you finally reach the animal, you can’t help but notice the amazing sheen to its feathers that still glints an impossible shade of gold in the moonlight. Everything about the creature seems softer than your dragon, although as you look at the talons below, you know that it can be just as vicious when it needs to be.  

Drake takes your hand and brings it to the gryphon’s face. You look at him uncertainly, your heartrate beginning to spike wondering if this is the part where you get fed to his talons and sharp beak. Although, your thoughts are cut short when the gryphon simply dips it and seems to sniff at your wrist.

“He isn’t going to bite. Gryphons just like to assess a person before they are allowed to ride. They, unlike most dragons, are willing to fly those in need of transportation, especially if their flier deems their purpose worthy.” Drake explains as he continues to hold your hand out. 

“Fascinating.” You say with no sarcasm in your tone. It’s not the first time since you left that you’ve wondered what exactly happened that caused dragons and gryphons to be so hostile to each other. However, you’re unsure if it’s the beings themselves or just the people that they bond with.

After a few minutes more, Drake drops your hand gently back to your side before taking your pack and securing it to his gryphon.

“if you don’t mind, I’d like you to sit in front of me.” Drake begins. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but the movement from gryphons compared to dragons is quite different and we don’t want you falling off.”

You shake your head and the next thing you know; he is hoisting you between the gryphon’s wings. 

“Now, you’ll need to scoot a little closer to his neck – yes – right there, perfect.” As he finishes, you are impressed with the ease in which he settles himself behind you. 

Without warning, they gryphon launches into the air, and you find yourself smacking directly into Drake’s chest. Your cheeks burning scarlet, you can do nothing but thank Zinhal it is already dark outside. 

“We’ll be flying at a lower altitude than you’re used to, so you should definitely be able to get some rest.” Drake explains, his mouth unnervingly close to your ear. 

You mentally slap yourself, but you can’t help the flush of your cheeks again. You close your eyes against the feeling, scolding yourself that it hasn’t been that long since a man has showed you attention.

You shake your head at his words and let your mind drift to the beats of the gryphon’s wings. Between the warmth of the lower altitude and the rhythmic flapping, you find yourself nodding off too quickly. 

Your consciousness slowly coming back, you snuggle into the warmth that has seemed to settle into your bones. It isn’t until you recognize the flapping of your wings that you are snapping to attention. Turning your head, you are met with Drake’s warm smile and a teasing glint in his eye.

“Have a nice sleep there?” He teases you. “I’m glad that I was a comfortable blanket.”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment as you quickly turn around back to the gryphon’s golden neck, the mortification burning in your cheeks.

Drake’s warm laugh breaks your embarrassment. “Don’t worry, it was pretty cute.”

Your head drops again in mortification, and you give a pout at his teasing, a frustrated huff leaving your lips. Though the feeling doesn’t stay around long when Drake begins to point in front of you.

Your eyes now widen, and jaw goes slack in absolute awe. Standing in stark relief to the blue of the coastline is a palace so intricate you have to pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming. As your eyes roam quickly, you can’t decide if you should focus on the intricate white walls of gleaming marble, or the pools that look as blue as the sky. Trying to count the seemingly endless number of terraces and small gardens that jut out in all directions, you have a hard time concentrating on any one piece. 

“You didn’t tell me to expect this.” Now looking down at the oversized clothes you are in, you can’t help but feel like a peasant waiting to be judged by royalty. You scoff in your mind because that is exactly what’s about to happen.

“Don’t let the palace and formality fool you. Besides, you won’t have to worry, you’re with me and I know Ceridwen gave you the necklace.” Drake’s tone is a cool calm and you try to infuse your feelings with the same. You are surprised to learn that Drake knew of the necklace but shrug your shoulders knowing that Red and Ceridwen trust him. At this point, you know there is no turning back, although there’s no certainty that you will like what will happen once you step foot in that palace.

Finally landing in a garden off to the side, you look around to see nothing but ornamental shrubs to your left and right. After years at Basgiath and life in Navarre, everything about this place seems overdone. 

Drake dismounts from the gryphon and immediately holds his hand out waiting to steady you as you dismount as well.

“Even though you aren’t a prisoner in any way. I need you to stick close.” Drake says with a serious tone. “You don’t need to fear for your life, but others may be inclined to harm you if they see you walking around by yourself in this clothing. Or at least make your life difficult.”

“What’s wrong with my clothing?” You ask indignantly.

“Nothing,” he says with slight exasperation. “You just have to understand that there won’t be anyone around the palace that doesn’t have a noble’s clothing on. Let’s just say my uncle is a fan of protocol.”

You shake your head understanding now what Drake is trying to convey. “I promise I’ll stick close by.”

Drake motions his hand for you to begin walking and he matches you stride for stride. The closer you get, the more in awe you find yourself. You come to an immediate stop as you look to your right and see nothing but a cloud of butterflies.

You hear a light snicker and turn to see Drake laughing gently at your obvious shock. “I know everything is a lot to take in on first glance, but I promise you can have the grand tour after we get you situated.”

Nodding, you continue walking into hallway upon hallway seeming to get more and more decorative as you descend into the heart of the palace. 

“Good morning, Sterling.” Drake says to a guard standing at two large wooden doors. “I assume my uncle and Syrena are behind there.”

“Yes, Captain. They are both anticipating your arrival.” As he finishes, Sterling looks back at you in judgment and you begin fiddling at his intense stare, but as a soldier he clearly knows better than have his feelings shown on his face.

Drake moves forward and opens the heavy wooden doors, moving them both to the side. You are met with an impressive study dripping with indulgences. There are crystal vases filled with exotic flowers, shelves with thousands of tomes, and fine carpets that have motifs you’ve never seen before.

The shocking details in the room cause you to completely miss the stares of the two other people. But as soon as you look back, you want to do nothing more than back away out of the room.

“Picking up strays now cousin?” The female in the room says. From Drake’s question to the guard, you realize this must be Syrena though you can’t help but bristle at her words.

“If by strays, you mean someone who has previously fought venin, then yes. If you’re just trying to be rude, then screw off.” Your eyebrows shoot up. Of all the things you expected, you never thought you’d hear someone who just met you defend your honor.

“Both of you are acting like children in front of our guest.” A clearly older voice rings out as you watch an older man step out from behind the large desk at the end of the room. 

“Uncle.” Drake says in a slow drawl. “I was in Pavis, and a friend made me aware of someone that was interested in fighting with us against the venin threat. She was there for about two months.”

“I see.” Tecarus says as he begins to walk around you as if inspecting a shiny new toy. “Does our guest possess any gifts or interesting talents?”

The drawl of his voice sounds a shiver down your spine before Drake speaks up again. “Besides combat experience, no she doesn’t possess any other talents.”

Drake looks at you as if wanting to confirm and you give him a small nod.  

“Drake says you’ve dealt with the venin before?” Tecarus asks as he continues to stalk closer to you.

“Yes.” The words leave your lips hesitantly. “I killed one in the combat that I have seen; however, I wouldn’t consider myself overly proficient.”

“Now, now dear. Don’t downplay your abilities. In fact, if the news Syrena has just brought to me is correct, you may have shown up at just the right time.” Drake comes to stand next to his uncle as he continues to make you uncomfortable with his piercing gaze. 

“What news Syrena?” Drake demands to the woman who has begun to step closer as well.

“The venin army is on the move and our intelligence tells us they may be making Zolya and the Academy their next target.” Syrena succinctly conveys the information, no emotion showing on her face.

All teasing in Drake’s face had long since disappeared. Everyone in the room tensed as Syrena continued to explain what the scouts had seen as the most recent movement. A shiver snaked around your body as the extent of the possible attack settled in your mind. 

“Are you planning on evacuating the cadets?” The question slipped from your lips before the thought even fully formed in your mind. 

The three people in the room turned to you seeming to finally remember your existence. You could see the hesitation in Syrena’s face to continue, but soon enough she was going over the evacuation plans for the Academy and the city overall. 

“I’m not a flier, but I would like to help in any way I can.” You hope that your voice is infused with the bravado that is flaring to life inside of you. 

After a few months of trying to bury your past, this seemed like the perfect way to carve out a new role for yourself. Try as you may, you hadn’t been able to get the phantom memories out of your mind. Phantom touches and small moments that had seemed so precious before only burned with dragon fire and stung as a scorpion’s tail. 

Shaking your head, you try to dispel the memories that had still been haunting your dreams. 

“If you’re willing to fight, I’m sure we can find a place for you.” Syrena confirms as Drake clasps a hand to your shoulder in acknowledgment. 

A little over a week later, you find yourself again seated in front of Drake flying towards Zolya. 

For the last week you had been working with Syrena and Drake on fighting, getting outfit in Poromish leathers, and learning as much as you could about the venin and their tactics in Poromiel thus far.

“Before we get to Zolya, we have a stop to make.” Drake says, though his tone belies there is more to this stop.

“Spit out exactly what you aren’t saying.” You spit tersely knowing there is something he isn’t saying.

“You’re going to want to stay with the gryphons and keep the hood of the cloak you have up.” He continues. 

“And you need to tell me exactly what the fuck is about to happen.” You toss back.

With an exaggerated sigh, he continues. “We’re going to pick up weapons from someone I don’t think you’re interested in seeing.”

There is no way that Drake can miss the way that your entire body stiffens like a wooden plank. Of all the things he could have told you, this was the last thing you could’ve possibly imagined. Your head whips around to look at Drake in the eyes.

“Are you telling me that you’re about to pick up weapons from Xaden Riorson.” Your voice comes out smaller than you want, but at this point you know that Drake knows exactly who you are. How would the Poromish not know when they have a bargaining chip?

Suddenly thoughts of betrayal flit across your mind, but before you can spiral too deeply, Drake breaks your thoughts. 

“I promise neither Syrena nor I will say anything about who you are. That is why I’m asking you to raise your hood, cover your face with your handkerchief in your pocket and stay with the gryphons.” You try to take a calming breath as you realize that they are both really trying to make sure that Xaden doesn’t know it’s you. 

Gods. Can you even shield anymore? You immediately begin to test your metal shields and try to reinforce them. The nostalgia that hits you at being back in your mind space is off-putting, the exercise being something you never thought you would do again. 

Sooner than you’d like, you feel the gryphons shift as they begin their descent. Without waiting, you take the handkerchief out of your pocket and tie it over your nose and mouth, after which you bring up the hood of your cloak as the gryphon hits the ground.

Drake easily dismounts and turns to assist you. “Remember, just stay here and keep your mouth closed and this will be over soon enough.” He gives your arm a small squeeze as he turns around and walks towards the small clearing. 

Your breathing begins to pick up as your eyes move to the distance in front of Drake and Syrena and see Sgaeyl and Chradh standing there, the imposing figures of the dragons causing your heart to flutter. All you can do is pray to Zinhal that neither dragon will be able to place your scent, be interested in looking too deeply into you, or tries to delve into your mind. Though no one can see you looking, you watch the entire scene take place. 

The breath catches in your throat as you lay eyes on the man that stole your heart in now what seems so long ago and in a completely different life. You keep your head angled down and let your eyes take in the sight of Garrick standing there next to him, studying them both for any injuries. You can’t say they would care if they knew you were here or not, but that doesn’t stop you from caring about their well-being.

Then the tone of Xaden’s voice brings you out of your reverie. “If you don’t stop with the attacks, we won’t have any choice but to stop the drops. Not only are the cadre already suspicious, but the higher rates in attack are making this harder to accomplish.”

“We are aware Riorson, but there is movement you are unaware of that we are currently on our way to try and contain. Actually, there’s plenty you don’t know, and frankly I’m unsure why the Assembly hasn’t been forth coming with what they know.” Syrena claps back, her tone just as menacing as Xaden’s. After spending time on the other side, you can understand the desperation the fliers are feeling.

“Look, we’ll do what we can.” Drake interrupts, breaking the tension between the two, trying to be the voice of reason. “Just know that the threat is getting increasingly worse. Besides, in two weeks’ time, we may not even be around to collect anything from you.”

“What do you mean?” Xaden asks forcing his tone to be a little calmer.

“I mean that we are trying to stave off an organized attack of a large city that will have more than devastating consequences. I’m sorry to be vague, but is your assembly’s job to inform you, not ours.” With that, Drake turns and continues back towards you.  

As if finally recognizing there is another flier in his midst, you watch with your hood covering your eyes as Xaden’s gaze flicks up to you. You don’t miss the uncertain expression on his face and the way he cocks his head slightly to the side as if trying to place you. If you didn’t know him so well, you would’ve missed the small twitch of his hand indicating he was utilizing his shadows. 

At that same moment, you blink down and see the shifting of shadows around your feet. Using every ounce of restraint, you make yourself stand completely still, letting the shadows coil around your feet in curiosity. Forcing breaths in and out, you solidify the shields you hope still work in your mental fortress as tightly as you can. 

The moment that Drake steps up next to his gryphon, you bring your head up fully and lock eyes with Xaden for one second before you turn and allow Drake to help you up. You keep your head firmly down as Drake mounts and just seconds later you are airborne.

As you drift from the meeting spot, Drake’s chuckle breaks your tumultuous thoughts. 

“Syrena is going to have her hands full the next time Riorson does a drop.” He gets out between fits of laughter. Looking over your shoulder, you give him a quizzical look.

“Oh, so you didn’t see then.” Drake explains wryly. “If I can read people as well as I think I can, Riorson either thinks he just saw a ghost or realized who you were and was so shocked he didn’t know what to do.”

Scrunching your nose at Drake’s comment you turn back to the front and let out a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m assuming that since you said Syrena, you don’t normally have any interaction with Xaden.” You ask, now wondering exactly how this whole operation works.

“No. I don’t usually have time for such things.” Drake huffs an almost indignant sound coming from him, it causes your eyebrow to quirk, but you know better than to pry too deeply.

Falling into comfortable silence, you scan your surroundings noticing the changes in topography as you glide closer to Zolya. If there is one thing you can say for flying on a gryphon is that the lower altitude gives much more visibility to the lands around you. 

As you continue to observe the landscape, the familiar sound of rushing water fills your ears between the beats of gryphon wings. Looking down, the Stonewater River flowing below you can’t be mistaken. As dawn begins to break, you take the opportunity to soak in the colors and sounds of the river below you before the chaos that you are sure will ensue. 

Before you have enough time to absorb the beauty of the nature around you, the feeling of descent makes your stomach begin to rise to your throat. As you bring your eyes to the horizon in front of you, you see the fortress of Cliffsbane Academy rising from the ground. 

The foreboding stone is reminiscent of all the times you flew into Basgiath, but for some reason the fear that used to immediately settle in your bones at Basgiath doesn’t come. Unsure if it is just you moving past the fight of living or just accepting today may be your last, you don’t know. 

As the gryphon touches down in the flight field of the Academy, you can’t help the way your head swings as if on a swivel trying to map out your surroundings. A sarcastic huff leaves your mouth as you realize you are a dragon rider now standing in the beating heart of enemy territory. You wrestle with yourself trying to figure out if this is the best idea you’ve ever had or complete madness. 

Drake immediately dismounts and pulls you down soon after. Not letting any hesitation settle into your bones, you take a deep breath and stand tall, following close behind Drake as he confidently moves towards the entry doors.

“I’ll remind you to stay close by while we’re getting directives and moving everyone into their places.” Drake warns as you both continue to stride down the halls.

“Don’t worry. I have no interest in becoming fodder for the students here who may prefer to see me dead.” You challenge back, although there is no malice there.

Before long, Drake stops in front of two large doors and looks back at you giving you a tight nod. As he opens them, your eyes widen as you take in your surroundings. The rotunda that you have entered is just as big as the one at Basgiath, but instead of dragon pillars, majestic gryphons in different states of flight line the interior. Golds, browns and whites highlight each other in alternating hues from floor to ceiling, where the colors fade into the painting of a beautiful blue sky. 

You aren’t awed for long when you hear a familiar sounding voice call out from the other side.

“Since when is picking up strays a new past time for you cousin?” A female voice purrs with a malignant sneer.

“Catriona, I’m only going to say this once.” Drake begins as he gives the similar looking female a stern look. “Play. Nice. This isn’t about you or some petty score over a man. She is here to help us, so you will treat her with respect.”

Catriona looks at you, eyes narrowed, while Drake continues. “That is an order, not a request.”

“Oh, I can play nice.” Catriona retorts though the mischief in her eyes shows you probably won’t like what follows. “Besides, what could be more of a punishment than being forgotten about not only by a man you thought loved you, but also your own dragon. You must really feel sorry for yourself to end up in flier leathers.”

You can’t help the slight flinch when she finishes her statement, though you can’t understand how she would even know what you looked like. And with that your entire being begins to feel the helplessness and utter betrayal of being left. A grief so sharp, it feels as if your heart may stop, hits you straight between the ribs causing your breath to hitch.

Drake must realize something because soon enough you watch as he grabs Catriona by the arm and gets into her face. “I said play nice. Quit it now.”

Catriona gives you one last glare before turning and walking away. You’re unsure what just happened, but the sting of her words slowly seems to lessen the further and further she gets away.

A clash of steel breaks you from your emotions at you and Drake both turn and stare at the doors you just entered through. A second later, a warning bell whistles out harshly and all hell breaks loose. You watch as flier cadets seem to come racing from all areas of the building.

“Come on, it seems we were a little later in the timing than we should’ve been.” Drake says ushering you towards the heart of the Academy. 

“It’ll be better if we separate. Where can I help in evacuating?” You say while running to keep up with Drake. 

“Follow this corridor and get out everyone that you can. Remember to use the two blades that I gave you if you come across a venin.” You nod your head sharply at the orders and immediately begin running toward the corridor assigned. 

As you go, you knock heavily on the doors before directing anyone coming out to head to the rotunda and towards their gryphons. You try to keep a tally in your head, but as you reach about twenty, your mind starts to spin. 

A dark cloud seems to enter your mind and no amount of shaking your head clears it. Continuing down the hall and constantly trying to clear your mind, you don’t notice the set of billowing robes that is at the end staring straight at you.

“Well, well. I didn’t expect to see you here.” A high-pitched shriek of a voice calls out as you open the door of the last room.

After ushering the last two cadets out, you finally look up and come face to face with the last creature you were hoping to see today.

Venin.

“See me here?” You taunt back in confusion. “You act as if you know me.”

“Oh, we always know a tortured soul when we see one. Especially one so exquisitely bleak as you.” The voice of the female venin shrieks. Your heart begins to race as you try to figure out your best way out of the situation, though things look disheartening when you realize you are at the dead end of a corridor.

“My Sage told me about the girl who was forgotten at the last battle he attended. He could feel the pain radiating off you in waves. He was very disappointed to have to leave you behind.” Everything the female is saying makes your head spin.

Suddenly awareness comes back to you, and you jerk in response to the now close proximity of the female. As you begin circling one another, the thoughts of the possible finalities of this predicament hit you. You don’t have time to dwell though as the female unsheathes a blade and goes to make the first strike.

Immediately parrying, you find yourself completely disadvantaged at the speed the female possesses. You utilize all the training you had done with Xaden and Garrick, but nothing seems to be enough to completely evade her blows. As you aim your own alloyed blade down to strike, you hiss as you feel a blade tear down your left arm. 

A fiery sting erupts from the wound as if hundreds of dragons are firing up and down your arm, but you don’t stop, you can’t. The female steps back slightly admiring her handywork which causes her downfall. You take the move for your advantage and charge directly at her. 

Even though she stepped back, your height made it easy to hit her right between the ribs. A shriek of a scream rends the air as she grabs at the alloyed dagger now protruding from her body. 

Watching as she falls to her knees, you find yourself backing against a wall, the sharp sting of scorpions radiating from your arm. Once the venin falls completely to the ground, you turn and look down. It is then you see the black that has begun to spider down your arm.

You begin to stumble back down the corridor towards the rotunda, hoping that you can drag yourself there. Movement begins to become sluggish as you get closer, hearing the battle still raging around you. Finally reaching the door, you look up and see people being directed out to the adjacent courtyard. Limping forward, you search for the familiar face of Drake.

As luck would have it, on the third pass of the hall, you finally spot him on the far corner. As if acutely aware of your stare, his head jerks up and his eyes land on you. Relief floods his face before it seems to turn to concern as you find yourself slowly sinking to the ground.

“Y/N!” You can hear Drake shout, although everything is beginning to sound far away. The harsh sounds of orders and footsteps seem to make up the background noise in your head, but nothing is clear anymore. Finally hitting the floor, you hiss out a pained breath as it begins to feel as if a thousand needles are running through your veins. 

“Y/N!” Drake shouts again and you see him materialize in front of your face. His voice is both a command and plea at the same time, though you’re unsure why.

As your vision begins to swim black, you think you hear him again. “You’ll be alright. We’re going to counteract the poison; you just need to hold on.”

The burning continues, your body convulsing with the heat of the venom in your blood. You can feel your whole-body tense as waves of fire rolls through. Darkness taking over your vision and your body beginning to slacken as the poison infiltrates your blood stream.

Each fiber of your body feels overloaded with fiery toxin and the loss of adrenaline. You try to open your eyes one last time, but your eyelids won’t obey your command, instead you find yourself slipping into oblivion.

----------

The first thing you notice is the quiet. Without opening your eyes, you listen but are only met with deafening silence. Continuing to lie unmoving, you take a deep breath before trying to open your eyes. Managing to finally get them open, though the effort seems unbearable, you are met with confusion as your eyes stare up at a beautifully decorative ceiling. 

Confusion tugs at your brain as you try to place this room that seems familiar, yet not. The decadence of the bedroom, even only by the ceiling you can see and the feel of the sheets on your bare skin, is something that seems familiar but not at the same time. Slowly, you let yourself move each one of your limbs, from your toes to your fingertips. 

You begin to move your arm and feel a lingering ache on your left. Bringing it up and over the covers your breath catches in your throat and your eyes widen at the sight. All along your arm are spidering black veins that seem to penetrate your skin.

“Don’t worry, eventually it will recede.” Immediately your head whips to your right towards the male voice. “It will take some time since we don’t have a mender and only healers, but it shouldn’t cause you any issues.” 

Your eyes encounter the warm gaze of Drake. Never before would you have thought the view of a flier would be a welcome sight, but your life hadn’t seemed to work out the way you’d thought anyway.

“H – How lo-long have I been out?” You rasp your voice scratchy with disuse and in desperate need of water.

While you finish your statement, Drake moves to the table next to the bed and brings you a fresh glass of water. You take the cup and drink greedily, the cool liquid calming the dryness.

“It’s been a week since the venin took Zolya.” Head jerking back towards Drake, your eyes widen at the revelation.

“Wh-what happened to all of those cadets?” Your heart begins to race as you panic over your life being saved over those fliers who were trying to learn and fight for their people. 

Drake gives you a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, we were able to evacuate Cliffsbane for the most part. Unfortunately, as with every battle with the venin, we weren’t able to save everyone.”

Your eyes immediately turn down at the news of the cadets that didn’t make it through the battle. This wasn’t the first time that you felt there was an unnecessary loss of life, and although you tried to make a difference, you always felt lacking.

A warm hand covers your forearm and gives a tight squeeze as you look up into Drake’s knowing eyes.

Days later, you’re finally feeling normal enough to get dressed and move about. Staring in the mirror after a shower, you begin to trace the lines of a particularly dark vein that moves across your chest to your left arm. Although you don’t feel the fiery pain that the poison elicited immediately, the phantom fire still seems to course through your veins as you trace the line. 

“It will fade soon enough.” A sharp feminine voice rasps causing you to whip your head to the right. Fighting the surprise that wants to plaster on your face, you turn to face the two women who are entering into the room you’re staying in. 

Turning around, you watch warily as Syrena and Catriona walk towards you. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company.” The saccharine dripping from your lips a stark contrast to your thoughts of the two women.

“Our Uncle seems to think we will be having Tyrrish company soon and for some reason he wants to dress you for the part of emissary.” The venomous tone Catriona adopts when telling you this information betrays her polite words.

“Dress me?” Your brows furrow at the thought. Hearing of such things happening was no surprise, however, not being part of a political family or born to royalty it was an action foreign to you. 

Syrena steps forward handing you the tunic you were about to put on. “Yes, even though he has more than enough gowns to alter in his repertoire, he wants to put you in something new.”

“Why though? What is he expecting from me?” You look back at Syrena hoping for some semblance of answers, though you’re unsure if she will provide any.

“Unfortunately, he hasn’t revealed what his plan is or what he seems to be expecting.” Syrena confirms. “Though if the consistent nagging I’ve been forced to partake in the last few weapons drops is any indication, I’m sure he’s trying to exploit Riorson’s weakness for you.”

You immediately scoff and roll your eyes at the comment. “Why would he be pestering you? He doesn’t even know I’m still alive, yet alone here of all places.”

“It seems the one look he caught at your eyes has reinforced his belief that you are indeed alive. And that I am more than aware of your whereabouts, which obviously is all correct.” Syrena gives you a deadpan look.

“But who knows why it would matter. He obviously couldn’t care less if he didn’t even notice your absence.” Catriona comments and you loathe to admit to yourself that she’s right. 

Your head begins to hang as the bitterness hardens in your heart at the thought of Xaden leaving you behind without even noticing. But wasn’t that the reason you ran? Didn’t you want him to forget? Didn’t you want to forget him? Unsure where these intense feelings of insignificance and uselessness have come from, your hand grabs at your chest as the ache intensifies feeling as if the organ may leap out of your chest. You try to calm yourself, but you can feel your breaths becoming shallow pants and the control it takes to hold in your sobs is immense.

“Cat!” You hear Syrena’s sharp tone in the background, though it seems like its underwater. “Leave her alone. She doesn’t even have her powers to shut you out.”

Words registering, you try to slam your shields up, but you can’t get past the ache and intense feelings of inconsequence.

“If she wants to be with Riorson, she’s going to have to be stronger than that.” Catriona spits back at Syrena. You try to drown the ache, but it isn’t until you hear the door slam that there seems to be a break in the intensity of the feelings.

Finally, you hear a set of footsteps approaching and look to the side to see Syrena looking at you with concern. 

“I’m sorry. I know Cat can be a piece of work sometimes, but I thought she could be more civil than that considering you saved her life at Cliffsbane.” As your breath finally begins to even out, you look to the side and chance a brow at Syrena’s words. 

“She was the last cadet you pulled out of the corridor you were in and watched you take on the venin. I thought between that and Riorson’s recent actions, she could have some compassion or at least understanding; but I see my darling sisterstill has some things to work on.” Syrena finishes as you finally have your breathing back under control.

“It’s not your fault.” You say as your breath catches again in your throat. “I know from experience how hard it can be to let somethings go.”

Syrena scoffs. “Empathy is not a quality my sister excels at, but it seems you have more than enough for the both of you. I can see why Riorson has lost any semblance of niceties now that you aren’t around.”

“I’m not sure that Xaden has a single nice bone in his body, that’s not exactly his strong suit.” You retort letting the sarcasm lace every word.

“Either way, how about you follow me, and we get you fitted for this monstrosity that I know my uncle is going to make you wear.” Syrena says while motioning you to follow her.

You try to keep your facial expressions neutral as the seamstresses begin their work, but it’s impossible. Every single emotion known to man must pass across your face because you watch as Syrena must hide her sniggers behind her hands at your antics.

“Clearly this isn’t something you’re used to.” Syrena muses as you stare down at the seamstress that is measuring from your waist to the floor.

“I would think that is obvious.” You retort as you move your arms as to not knock into one of the seamstresses scurrying around you.

“Well, you’ll get used to it.” That comment causes you to snap your gaze to the secondary heir to the Poromish throne. 

“I beg to differ. Besides, I don’t see why someone that’s fighting in a war will need a fancy gown again.” As the seamstresses finally step away from you, a deep calming breath and drop your arms as you’ve been wanting to do for the last half hour.

“You do know that Riorson is the rightful Duke of Aretia, correct?” Syrena continues as if you haven’t spoken. “When all is said and done, I’m sure he’ll regain the title, if not more. You’ll most likely be expected to dress the part next to him.”

Tripping over your feet, you barely catch yourself before you hit the ground. “What the fuck are you talking about Syrena?” You demand as your emotions begin to rise, clogging your throat with both fear and hope.

“I’m sure you’ll see.” Her cryptic response does nothing to quell the nauseous feeling that has now settled in your stomach. 

About a week later, you find yourself walking back to your room in the palace at Cordyn after your training session for the day. As you shuffle in, the armoire that houses your clothes that must be worn to formal events sits open. Walking towards the door, your eyes immediately fly wide.

Hanging in the open door is an emerald dress that is something you thought you’d only see in your dreams. The gown is made of layers of gauzy fabric with jewels encrusted over the entire bodice with twirling vines of ivy. You stare at the skirt, and you can’t help but wonder if the sheer layers will cover any part of your body. Vines run up and down the bodice with a few hanging into the layers of the skirt and fabric drapes from the bodice into a full skirt. As your eyes continue to trace the dress, you notice the sleeves that will hang off your shoulders and will at least cover some of the black veins that still spider on your arm.

Every ounce of the dress looks as if it is fit for a queen, not a mere soldier barely scrimping by. 

“I believe you’ll look absolutely stunning in that my dear.” The oily rasp of the voice behind you causes you to step back. You turn and stare back into the eyes of Viscount Tecarus.

“If my intel is correct, I believe we will be having a few guests join us this evening.” Tecarus continues coming to step in front of you. “And I’ve come here to tell you what you’re going to do.”

“I see.” You say but your trepidation is clear, even to your own ears. “And what exactly is that?”

“You will be escorted to dinner with Drake; however, you will not make your appearance known until after everyone has joined. There will be a guard to inform Drake of when to enter. You will keep to your chamber between now and then.” There is no denying the calculation that the Viscount has done.

“Once there, you will get the rest of your instructions. I’m unsure of how much Riorson knows about your whereabouts exactly, but from what we’ve pieced together he knows you’re in Poromiel. However, he has made no indication that he knows you’re here.”

“I’m not sure what exactly you think I can do for you with him. As you remember, I was left behind in Resson and from what I can tell, that was that. No one has tried to find me.” You try to explain and keep your voice level. 

As the conversation continues, it takes everything for you not to bolt from the fortress and not look back. Coming face to face with Xaden again is the last thing you want to do. 

“Yes, that may be what you think, but my dear, there are many things you don’t know.” With that, the Viscount walks out of your room but not before giving you a smile that tells you this evening isn’t going to be any fun. 

A few hours later, two ladies’ maids have come to take care of your hair, makeup, and dress you for the evening. Standing fully dressed and looking in the mirror, you are shocked at the reflection that stares back at you. 

The maids have curled your hair and left it half up and down, braids are intricately woven in and out at the top with golden chains woven throughout. Your eyes pop after having been lined with charcoal and the suppleness of your lips are highlighted the dark red of a ripe raspberry. Though the one thing that you can’t stop staring at is the dress that you now don. The emerald color complements your skin immaculately and falls to accentuate every curve of your body.  You’ve never seen yourself look so beautiful, regal even. 

“What my uncle lacks in battle strategy, he certainly makes up for in style.” Drake’s voice drips like honey behind you and you turn quirking your eyebrow. “You look absolutely beautiful, ever the regal queen.”

Even with the compliment, you give him a deadpanned look. “I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to survive this night alive.” He quips, chuckling slightly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your irritation barely contained.

“Riorson might just have my head for escorting you.” Drake continues with his jibes. “Especially when everyone’s eyes will be on you.”

“Ha. Ha.” You let the sarcasm drip from your lips like molasses. 

“Seriously though, I’ve already seen the riders that are joining us, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so tightly wound.”

“Him who?” The look Drake gives you makes it obvious that he knows you’re being ridiculous. Letting out a long-suffering sigh, you let yourself slouch feeling defeated even though your night hasn’t even begun.

Looking you over, Drake goes to the dressing table in your room and picks up the necklace that Ceridwen had gifted you. “I need you to remember to wear this whenever you’re around Catriona from now on, do you understand?” The serious look in his eyes causes you not to question his decree and just nod your head in confirmation.

A knock on your door breaks the silence and your heart begins to speed. Breathing has turned into a chore, and you’ve begun pacing back and forth, eyes trained down at the floor and shaking your hands as if trying to dispel the feelings you’re feeling. 

“Hey.” The sternness of the voice the only thing breaking through your reeling thoughts. 

“I know this is going to be a long evening, but I need you to breathe.” Drake soothes taking your hand in his and guiding you to slow your breathing. “Never forget that you don’t have to leave, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If anything, you should go down there with your head held high and show Riorson the strong and beautiful woman he let disappear.”

It’s all you can do to focus on your breathing and shake your head. Drake begins to walk towards the door and holds out his arm for you to take. Letting yourself move forward slowly and continuing to take deep breaths, you try to remind yourself that whatever happens this evening doesn’t matter. Soon enough Xaden will be on his way home and you’ll be free to throw yourself into the war like you’ve been wanting to, preferably as far away from him as possible. 

Letting your mind wander, you take in the scenery of the palace as you walk. Looking to your left, you watch the shimmering coastline that seems to sparkle with the night sky, though you can feel the heaviness that is settling in the air around you forecasting the coming rain. Watching the waves crash calms your racing thoughts as you continue to walk forward on Drake’s arm.

Far too soon, you stare at a familiar set of doors and your heart has now leapt into your throat. Before the guards open the doors, Drake turns to look at you, his expression serious.

“Before we go in there, I just want to say I’m sorry for whatever happens tonight. It’s important to me that you know I had no part in whatever plan my uncle intends to carry out tonight and I tried my damnedest to keep you as far away from this as possible.” The concern in his eyes shines as he finishes talking. You have no idea what to reply, so you just give his arm a squeeze back in acknowledgement before the doors are opening. 

Turning to face forward, you take a deep, shaking breath as Drake continues to guide you forward and down the stairs. Your free hand is now balled into a fist so tight, you’re unsure if you are drawing blood or not. Descending, you can’t help but feel the weight of the stares of all the people gathered at the palace. Searching left and right, you try your hardest not to encounter the onyx eyes that you haven’t seen in months, the anxiety eating at your very being. 

Drake’s warm hand falls over yours and squeezes bringing your gaze back to his, the gesture grounds you as you continue to walk forward. The small comforting smile that he offers you helping to bring your breathing back under control and alleviate a tinge of the anxiety.

A voice breaks your gaze from Drake’s as you hear the words uttered from further in front of you. “Ah, here’s the other guest that we’ve been waiting on.”

Whirling your head towards the sound of Tecarus’ voice, the breath completely leaves your lungs. In front of you is the last person you ever wanted to see again, but you can’t tear your eyes away. 

Standing before you in a tunic tailored to every line of his body is Xaden Riorson. His hair perfectly windswept and strong features on display for all to see. Though the thing you notice most is the taught lines of his body and the way his eyes look sunken and more tired than you’ve ever seen them as he stands in front of you. The rest of the room seems to fall away as you stare back at each other, him in disbelief and you in resignation.

A fire begins burning in your chest, one you didn’t expect. Anger that you hadn’t realized you were holding onto starts to blaze as you watch Xaden. Your nostrils flare in irritation as your eyes finally move to the woman standing next to him. 

Sorrengail. 

The sneer on your lips comes unbidden, though you don’t let your eyes linger on her before looking to the two others standing next to her. Gaze going between the three, the realization hits you as you notice the similarities in their features, her siblings.

Closing your eyes and taking a calming breath, you open your eyes and bring them to Tecarus, ignoring the way Xaden fidgets as if he is barely keeping himself in place. 

“I believe now is the time to discuss the business we have here.” The male Sorrengail sibling says, obviously trying to break the tension.

You keep your eyes trained on Tecarus, but it’s impossible not to notice the way that Violet tries to get Xaden to step back, as you notice he can’t stop himself from taking steps forward. You roll your eyes at the gesture, of course she would be the one to control him.

A chill crawling up your leg causes you to shiver and look down. Unsurprisingly, shadows swirl at your feet, and you know if you parted your skirt, you would find them shifting around your legs. 

Getting pulled back slightly causes you to look down and realize the tight grip that you had on Drake’s arm as he still held your arm in his. You give him an apologetic look, but it doesn’t last when a black tendril of shadow tugs at your arm as if to pull it from Drake’s grip. 

Pivoting, you send a sharp look to Xaden, a silent command to drop his shadows. However, he doesn’t see it as he is only glaring at your hand that is still holding Drake’s arm and then back at the man himself.

“Now that all our guests have arrived, Riorson, we can continue our discussions for the luminary.” Tecarus says as if he is doing something magnanimous, causing your eyes to roll. 

Violet goes to step up and begins to raise her hands to wield, but she is quickly cut off. “No, no, my dear. I want you to wield from the beautiful arena below. In fact, I have a few things to go through before we start.”

“You,” Tecarus says while pointing to Violet. “Will head down to the arena floor and I have a target I want you to hit with your lightning. If you’re interested in bringing anyone with you, you may - except him.”

Xaden goes to step forward, but for some reason you don’t understand, he seems torn. “Don’t worry Riorson, you won’t need to move from where you are. In fact, things will deteriorate if you do.”

Your brows furrow, but soon enough you have stopped paying attention when you’re grabbed by two guards. As your head swivels left and right trying to understand, you see the murderous look that is plastered on Xaden’s face and the undeniable anger on Drake’s.

“Tsk. Tsk. Don’t move any further if you want that luminary Riorson.” Xaden’s footsteps immediately falter, but his eyes turn to anguish. 

“Fuck the luminary.” Xaden growls as he goes to take another step towards you, but he stops in his tracks when you give him a look telling him ‘No’.

“You, dear Xaden, have one task.” Tecarus looks to you, a disturbing gleam in his eye. “You cannot move from this balcony. If you dare take one step towards the arena, our dearest Y/N will fall to the arena floor.”

As Tecarus finishes, the guards, that grabbed you, push you into a golden cage. You rattle the door you were thrown in, even though you saw it locked behind you. You can’t hide the betrayal on your face and at this point you’re unsure if there is anyone you can trust. 

“That’s what you wanted. To dress me up like a beautiful bird that lives her life in a gilded cage. To dangle me for what? To prove that I don’t matter to any of them? That I don’t matter to him?” The rage building in your heart at the betrayal you’re feeling, an overwhelming monster threatening to tear the entire palace down. 

“And what can I assume you will do if I don’t follow your instructions?” Xaden growls out, the blazing hot fury causing his voice to drop low. 

“You see that’s where the fun begins.” The giddy elation in Tecarus’s voice causes your glare at the disgusting man to intensify. “We get to see who is really more important to you and you get to see what happens when you don’t follow my commands.”

You look down at the arena floor where Violet now stands with her siblings. “Now remember, the minute you make a move towards the arena, the cage opens, and you are responsible for any consequences.” The danger dripping from Tecarus lets you know that he has no intention of letting Xaden get through this unscathed and is taking immense amounts of pleasure from his plan.

Taking time to look at the cage you find yourself in, you notice the latch that you are sitting on and trace the chain that falls from the bottom to a guard standing close to you. A jerk of the cage has you jostling from side to side as the cage begins to move. 

“This is ridiculous uncle. Bring her down right now.” Drake’s voice breaks from the din of whispers that have only gotten louder since your placement in the gilded cage. 

Eyes darting from side to side, you realize that you are now not only caged, but dangling above an arena that is soon going to be covered in lightning. 

“Oh Amari.” The words woosh from your lungs as the certainty of your imminent demise begins to settle in your bones.  

The certainty solidifies as you watch guards bring a chest into the middle of the arena. Watching wearily, your eyes bulge when you watch a venin tumble from the chest. Your gaze swings back to the balcony and watch a satisfied smirk plaster on Tecarus’s face. A movement to the left has you meeting Drake’s gaze, he makes a motion towards the bodice of your dress, and you look down. Unsure exactly how or when, you find yourself in possession of one of the alloyed daggers that you’ve killed the previous venin with. It’s then you know what you must do.

In lieu of Xaden losing his life because of Violet’s death, you make the decision that you’ve been dreading. Standing in the cage and picking up your foot, you drive it down as hard as possible, the heel cracking through the latch on the bottom. 

“Y/N!” A male voice roars your name, but you don’t look to see who it is.

The sensation of falling hits you immediately, but using everything you’d learned at Basgiath, you soften your blow to the ground just the tiniest bit in order to keep from breaking anything. You roll to your feet, and curse the ridiculous dress that you find yourself tangled in. 

Although you know your exit and landing wasn’t that quiet, the venin hasn’t seemed to notice your presence. Your eyes catch Violet’s as you begin to move forward, silently conveying your command for her to keep him talking. Unsheathing the dagger that was held at your ribs, you slowly make your way towards the creature trying to keep your steps measured and slow.

The venin begins to crouch to the ground, and you know you don’t have much time.

“Y/N! NO!” The same male voice repeats, though now there is a hint of absolute desperation and panic.

Running as swiftly as you can in the outrageous skirt of the dress, you bring the dagger up in preparation to strike. Right before you make your move, the venin turns his hand jutting out and grabbing you by the neck his read eyes bulging. 

“Quite the prizes I’ve been led to. The sage will reward me handsomely for bringing both the lightning wielder and the pained one.” He hisses, spittle hitting your face. For a monstrous creature that has been denied the ability to channel for so long, it strikes you how powerful he is still, even in a weakened state. 

“I may be full of pain, but I’ll never meet your master.” You hiss breathlessly as you bring the dagger to slash the venin’s arm. Hissing in pain, the venin drops you to the ground and you cough trying to get breath back into your body.

Taking one deep drag of air, you jolt up and slam the blade of the alloyed dagger into the venin’s chest. A triumphant smile crosses your mouth, but it is short lived when you see the venin raise a dagger that you were unaware he possessed. You take two steps back before the venin slashes the blade across your chest.

“Y/N!” Violet screams, as the awaiting storm finally breaks and soaks everything. As you both drop to the ground, the bright red of the venin’s eyes turns to a dull ruby and his skin begins to grey. Landing fully on the ground, the breath is zipped from your lungs and your hand instinctively goes up to cover the slash across your chest. 

The warm and viscous blood flowing from the wound coats all your fingers as you bring them up to your face to see, the metallic smell wafting to you through the raindrops. 

“Brennan, mend her!” Violet’s voice seems further away than it was before. 

Closing your eyes, you let yourself focus on the feeling of the rain falling down your face instead of focusing on the pain of your injury. Soon enough you drift off, a sense of contentment washing over you. You may not have saved yourself, but you saved those who can better save the continent.

“Y/N, please open your eyes. Please.” A familiar male voice says in a desperate, coaxing tone, though you can’t bring yourself to obey the command. You feel a large, calloused hand stroke your cheek and then card through your hair, finally coming down to lace with your fingers.

“She’ll be fine Xaden. Brennan mended her. You couldn’t ask for her to have been seen to sooner than that.” A female voice tries to coax who you’ve realized is now Xaden.

“You don’t know that.” You can hear the frustration in his tone back at the female. “She almost killed herself trying to save you.”

Reality slams back and you now know that you won’t be opening your eyes for the two people who have haunted you for months. The last thing you need to see is the man you love with the woman that caused you to be forgotten. 

“We need to go anyway. Tecarus is expecting all of us for negotiations.” Violet tries to reason with him.

“I don’t give a fuck.” Each word drips out of his mouth with vicious certainty. A knock on a door seems to halt their conversation.

“Your presence is required for our negotiations I’m afraid.” Your emotions settle as you take note of Drake’s voice breaking the conversation.

“You can tell your fucking uncle he should be glad I didn’t send him to meet Malek today for the stunts he pulled, and I’ll come when Y/N is awake.” Xaden replies in a menacing growl, his fingers tightening on yours as if afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Look Riorson, you may not believe me, but I agree with you. Everything that happened tonight is despicable.” Drake begins catching you off guard. “But you shouldn’t spit in the direction of Y/N’s sacrifice that she made tonight by not participating in negotiations.”

“If it would be any consolation, I can stay with her until negotiations are done. If for some reason she wakes between now and then, I’ll have someone fetch you immediately. However, in hopes to move things along, we all need this discussion about the luminary to be decided upon.” Drake explains with as much diplomacy as possible.

Silence greets your ears for a few minutes before anyone speaks. 

Drake must’ve given Xaden the confirmation he wanted as a minute later you feel the hand wrapped around yours squeeze tightly and a cool feeling whisps around your wrist, wrapping in tightly.

“Fine. But I’m not leaving her completely. You’ll have to deal with a few shadows if you want me to participate in this bullshit.” Xaden says plainly, though his tone begins to darken at the end. “And you better keep your damn hands to your fucking self Cordella.”

You expect to hear the sound of retreating footsteps, but instead the bed dips and you feel warm breath ghost across your face.

“Y/N, Love, I need you to wake up for me. I promise you I’m not leaving this damned place without you awake and Malek will take me before I fly out of Cordyn without you. Please, my Blaze. Please wake up.” Xaden whispers in your ear before you feel him leave a lingering kiss on your temple. 

The bed shifts again and you hold your breath until you hear the door click shut.

“You aren’t very subtle you know. I can tell you’re awake.” The humor in Drake’s voice is dry. 

Your eyes flutter open and look directly at him. The eye roll and slight shake of your head doesn’t stop the way your mouth ticks up at the corner. 

“What can I say? I was just waiting to have you all to myself.” You tease but the smile doesn’t last as you wince in pain trying to sit yourself up. 

Looking down to the shadow at your wrist, you lift it up with a pointed look. “Did you really need to allow this?”

Drake’s laugh is cynical. “Allow? You may have heard the words Riorson just said but you haven’t been awake for the last 3 hours. If you’d seen what I have, you wouldn’t be pushing too many of his buttons.”

“I highly doubt he enjoyed watching his dear Violet’s life endangered, but I took care of it.” The flat tone of your voice giving away the hurt. 

Swinging your feet to the edge of the bed, you look down to see someone has changed you into a silk sleeping gown. Your hand then goes up as your eyes catch on the new raw scar that slashes across the left side of your chest. Trying to comprehend, you just can’t understand how you’ve evaded Malek’s grip once again. 

“Violet?” Drake chimes in as he walks closer to your side. “Is your whole existence now dependent on avoiding the fact that the man that just left this room is irrevocably in love with you?”

“Don’t.” Your voice drops to a deadly whisper. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to judge what I think. You haven’t been around for the last year and a half, or do you not remember that I fucking ran away from that man and my dragon.”

Your voice is gaining in its fire, and you can feel your body begin heating with the anger coursing through every nerve. 

“I-I’m sorry.” Drake hesitantly begins sounding suitably chastised. “I understand that with whatever happened between the two of you, he has a lot to explain and atone for, but did you not see how sunken in his eyes are?”

You drop your head down and let your anger fester. There is no way you’re going to let anyone make you feel bad for leaving, even though there was no mistaking the sallow color to Xaden’s eyes and deep purple smudges below them. 

“Will you at least let me tell you what happened on the balcony? At least let me give you some information before he inevitably comes back.” You give a curt nod, but only because you know that there isn’t any way you can completely evade Xaden, not now. 

“Besides, someone needs to chide you for being as reckless as you were.” Your head jerks up and the look Drake gives you shows he was vastly unimpressed with your performance. “Did you really need to try and kill both me and your shadow wielding, hot head by dropping yourself from that cage?”

You give him a dead-panned look. “What’s the difference? Your uncle dearest wanted to play games, so I bent the rules.”

With a roll of his eyes, Drake goes on to relay the chaos that you were completely unaware of, obviously too engrossed in dispatching a venin and then almost meeting Malek for the second time in just a few weeks.

 The male voice you heard shouting your name was apparently Xaden, both he and Drake, flew to the arenas edge once you started falling. Though Xaden’s focus didn’t stay long on the battle once you killed the venin and were mended, apparently turning to let his wrath at the situation out on the Viscount.

Drake imparts the threats Xaden carried out, wrapping his shadows around Tecarus’s neck and slowly constricting, and the bedlam that followed. He confirms you were mended by Brennan, as Violet had already stated, and then Brennan had carried you up the steps of the arena. 

Somehow Violet had broken through the spell of anger that Xaden was in, and he had immediately turned towards the Sorrengails. Seeing your limp form in Brennan’s arms, Drake confirmed he had taken you from him and stalked off not bothering to say anything to anyone.

“I’m unsure if I’ve ever seen the burning hatred in someone’s eyes shine as brightly as Riorson’s did tonight. I’m unsure of exactly what control he used, but if he had any less, he may have taken out the entirety of the line of succession of Poromiel.” Your head turns cocking an eyebrow at Drake’s words. 

“How exactly did I end up here? And where exactly is here? This isn’t the room I normally stay in.” You ask as you finally look around the room. 

“No, this isn’t your room. This is Riorson’s room from when he used to make regular visits to Cordyn.” Drake confirms.

“You mean when he was engaged to your cousin?” You snipe back, the bitter taste in your mouth causing you to scowl.

“Not engaged. Betrothed. Not something I chose.” Xaden’s voice causes you to jump and your head to turn swiftly towards the door that has just opened. 

The minute his eyes meet yours, the way they soften and swirl with a plethora of emotions, has your heart breaking in your chest. Your head drops down and you stand, immediately trying to leave the room. 

“No.” The word leaves his mouth breathlessly and he’s crossing the room quickly stopping you from going anywhere. “Please Blaze – please stay.”

Of all the ways you’ve heard Xaden talk, in the years knowing and loving him, you had never heard his voice so broken. 

“Why?” The word passes your lips before you can stop it, but now that it has you know there is no way to take it back. 

Pulling back from Xaden’s grip, you look up into the eyes you had been avoiding. A sigh leaves your mouth, though you can feel your chest tighten, as you see the anguish and sorrow clearly on his face. The man in front of you has never looked so lost, broken, and utterly defeated.

“Do you know how long I was waiting for you to sound so desperate for me in the last year?  To not feel like you had forgotten about my existence? Did you even realize the way you left me behind?” The questions rush from your lips in a torrent, and you have to bite down on your lips to avoid more from spilling.

Have you broken Xaden Riorson?

Is the only thought you manage to have as you watch the tears slip down his cheeks.

Your head is spinning with the emotion that is ripping from the man in front of you. As much as your brain holds onto the anger that had settled in you, your heart is shattering watching him crumble before your eyes. Your hand comes to your chest as your throat begins to close trying to hold back your own tears. 

Your vision begins to swim with tears as suddenly Xaden moves. He crashes to his knees as he grabs you by the waist crushing you to him so tightly you know there will be bruises there tomorrow, though you don’t focus on that when you hear the sob tear from his throat.

 Standing there frozen in place, your emotions war within you on whether to push him away or try to comfort him. In the end your heart wins out and you rake your hand through his hair. The gesture causes his breath to catch in his throat and his hold on you to tighten even further. 

Bringing your hand down and placing your fingers under his chin, you tilt his head up to look him in the eyes. As he does, you can’t help but trace the tears still falling from his eyes wiping them as they continue to dampen his cheeks.

“Xaden.” Your voice comes out as a calming whisper. “You need to breathe for me, alright?”

He gives a short nod as he tries to calm his breathing while still being plastered to you. Your fingers absentmindedly stroke his cheeks, keeping a steady rhythm to help soothe him. 

As his breathing begins to level, he takes both of your hands in his and kisses your palms slowly rising to his feet. 

Not letting go of your hands, he pulls you to the bed and sits you down next to him. You try to pull your hands away, acutely aware that Violet could walk in at any second, but he tightens his grip further. 

“Y- you d-don’t know h-how long I’ve been dreaming of seeing you again.” The confession comes out in a stuttered whisper as Xaden continues to pull your hands forward trying to tug you closer and calm his emotions. 

You can’t help the incredulous look you give him. After everything that had happened over the last year, you never believed that Xaden would even care about seeing you again.

“Forgive the brashness Xaden, but I have a hard time believing that with everything that happened at the end of our relationsh-.” As you finish, Xaden doesn’t try to hide the way his breath hitches as you draw a line in the sand of your relationship, but he quickly cuts you off. 

“Don’t.” The word comes out with such force you immediately rear back a bit. “That wasn’t the end. This isn’t either.” He says firmly brooking no argument. 

As he finishes, your head cocks to the side and the look you give him is filled with resignation. “I don’t think you’re allowed to make that call alone. Besides, I’m sure Violet wouldn’t want to hear that.”

At the mention of the silver-haired girl, Xaden picks up his hand and grabs your face with deliberate force, directing you too look candidly into his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck what Violet wants. My relationship is none of her fucking business.”

You scoff and try to pull your face away. “I believe it is her business if she’s part of that relationship.”

A frustrated growl slips from his lips as he gets a better grasp on your face. “I’m. Not. With. Violet.” Each word is punctuated through grit teeth.

“More fool me then. Left behind for someone you aren’t even with.” You can feel yourself getting nasty, the attitude and anger lying dormant rising to the surface.

“I’m sorry.” Between the words and the way Xaden is looking at you, it’s as if a cold bucket of water has been poured on you and doused the fire that had begun to race through your veins.

“Excuse me?” You ask incredulously, furrowing your brows because you’ve never heard Xaden say those words.

Xaden takes a deep breath, and confusion becomes shock as he grabs you and pulls you on his lap, his forehead resting on the side of your head as his hands wrap tightly around your waist. “I’m. so. fucking. sorry.” The words leave his mouth punctuated slowly as if to convey their importance. 

He raises his head, and you turn to look him in the eyes. “There aren’t enough words in this world for me to tell you how fucking sorry I am. I’ll apologize to you every damn day for the rest of our lives, but I need you with me.”

After being hurt so thoroughly by this man, you find yourself unable to stop throwing words in his face. “I’m certain that the last year has proven quite the opposite.”

Your words clearly strike a nerve when he flinches, though the movement doesn’t last long. 

“I deserve every ounce of your ire. All the pain you’ve felt tenfold.” He says simply. “And I will gladly accept every ounce of venom you can toss my way. Use daggers if you want to. Make me bleed. But please, come with me.”

“I can’t.” The words are out of your mouth in an instant. There is no way you’re just going to fold to the man in front of you. “Pretty words aren’t going to fix this.”

The look of anguish on Xaden’s face makes your gut twist and your chest feel too tight. 

“They aren’t just pretty words.” The pleading and anguish in his voice is on full display. 

“Your actions for the last year spoke louder than all the words you’ve ever told me. No matter how much I want to believe them.” An emotion flashes in Xaden’s eyes, but it’s gone before you can decipher it.

“Gods Xaden, we’re even having this discussion in a place that you’d been aiding for years, but did I know anything about it. No!” Your voice begins to rise as you gesture around the room. “You’ve been aiding Poromiel, been betrothed to an heir to the throne, and when things blew up in Resson did you even notice my reaction? Or was calming the lightning wielder down just that more important?”

“You think I don’t know how much I’ve fucked up? I’ll spend from now until I meet Malek showing you that needing you isn’t just pretty words. That all the things you didn’t know were not because I didn’t want to tell you, but because I wanted to keep you protected.” The words become harsh as Xaden’s conviction begins to solidify. “You are as vital to me as the fucking air that I breathe, and I haven’t taken a full breath since I realized you were gone. I know I fucked up for the last year. Hell, probably even longer than that, but nothing in this world is more vital to me than you.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between Xaden’s eyes looking for lies, but it hits you suddenly he looked at you the same way for years not giving away any of his secrets.

“I want to believe you. Really, I do.” You start. “But this time you’re going to have to show me, before we are anything again – if we even can be.”

“I’ll do anything you want me to do, but you have to come with me back to Aretia. I want to take you home. To my home and I want to make it yours.” Xaden has slowly walked back towards you leaving little space in between, the scent that you always associated with comfort, mint, leather and the essence of him assaults your nostrils and it takes everything you have to not bury your face in his chest.

“I’ll give you this.” You begin taking a few steps back out of his orbit. “You’ll have the opportunity to show me that what you’re saying is the truth, but I’m not coming with you to Aretia.”

His arm shoots out trying to drag you back to him, but you put up a hand to stop him. “No. If you want any chance at all, you’ll respect my decision.” 

Turning around one last time before exiting his room you look up at the man that brings you both comfort and tears. 

“I’ll always love you, Xaden.” Your voice is quiet as you leave him with parting words, sadness coloring the lines of your face. “But this time you’re going to have to be the one fighting, because I refuse to be forgotten again.”

With that, you let the door fall closed behind you but not before you see the absolute look of desperation on Xaden’s face. Walking away a few paces, you can’t help but overhear the shout of agony from the room you just left as you let the tears flow down your cheeks.

“Come on.” A gentle voice says as you continue down the corridor. Your head turns to the voice as a blanket is thrown over your shoulders and the now familiar warmth of Drake settles over your shoulders. “Let’s get you back to your room for some rest.”

Days later after the delegation from Aretia has left, you are walking in the garden trying to clear your mind from the reeling it’s been doing since Xaden stepped back into your life. As you walk, you let your hand trace over the beautiful roses that line the path, taking in the overabundance of colors that strike against the backdrop of the white palace. 

You close your eyes trying to absorb the smell of the roses and calm your racing mind, but the peace doesn’t last long. A shriek comes from inside the palace causing your head to jerk in the direction and your eyes fly wide. 

Coming in at a rate too fast to seem friendly is a dragon on a collision course with the palace. On your left and right you watch as gryphons launch in the air. You stare with wide eyes, you breath stuck in your throat, as the gryphons descend towards the incoming threat. 

Soon enough though the gryphons turn and come towards the palace as well in the formation of an escort. Your brow furrows as you wonder who exactly has returned to Cordyn so soon. 

‘No one, Loyal One. I’m here for you.’ A crisp female voice races through your mind. 

Your eyes flare as you look towards the incoming dragon, familiarity hitting you like a stone as you watch the coppery sheen of your brown swordtail coming closer and closer.

‘Dhìoch. H-how?’ You don’t need to finish the sentence of how she knew you were here.

‘Sgaeyl. You didn’t think the Brooding One was going to let you be alone with the enemy, did you?’ You mentally curse Xaden and his inability to leave well-enough alone.

‘There’s plenty he doesn’t know.’ You snark, although your mind begins to race as you realize your dragon just might burn you to the ground for your actions.

‘I see that, Loyal One. You have been busy these past months, even without any powers. I knew I was right in my choice, although many have questioned me since your abrupt departure.’ There’s no mistaking the anger in Dhìoch’s eyes as she lands in the garden, talons digging up the gently manicured bushes you were just admiring.

‘I’m sorry Dhìoch, but I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I figured you just severed our bond and found a more worthy rider.’ Even your mental voice becomes small, your own insecurities shining through.

‘You do not apologize.’ Dhìoch says surprising you. ‘Although you were reckless and abrupt, I understand why you did what you did.’

‘However, if you ever think you can leave me again, I will burn you and we will burn together.’ There’s no evading the scathing look from the beautiful, bronzed creature in front of you and there is no way you are going to challenge her threat.

‘I understand Dhìoch and I won’t allow myself to become that forgotten girl again.’ You confirm and Dhìoch sends an acknowledging hum through the bond.

With Dhìoch back at your side, you spend days working on repairing your shields and practicing your signet. It doesn’t take long as everything moves through you like a stream that had been denied water, the feeling of being whole again finding its way to you.

Syrena and Drake spend time training with you when they are in Cordyn and thankfully let you know whenever there will be a new drop of daggers. Between trying to avoid Catriona before she left for Aretia and then trying to avoid Xaden, you find yourself always playing a game of hide and seek. 

Unfortunately, when you are playing against a shadow wielder, you luck is more often than not, terrible.

“Blaze.” Your eyes immediately roll as you continue walking back to the training fields itching to get away from him. But the man of shadows will have none of it. A cool whisp wraps around your wrist and tugs causing your steps to tumble slightly backwards and into the chest of the man basically running you down. 

“Will you stop calling me that.” Your voice rasps in irritation at the man now holding you by your waist against his chest.

Before you can so much as turn, he buries his face in the side of your neck and his arms slither all the way around your frame before you hear a breathy response. “No.”

“Why?” You ask tersely as you try to pry yourself free.

“Because there is no alternative I will accept, then you burning with me. You’ve always been an all-consuming flame, whether passion or hatred and I’ll never let your blazing glory go.” Xaden says, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks.

Huffing, you are finally able to tear yourself from his grip. “Is there something you needed? Or are you just here to torment me?”

You don’t miss the way he flinches at your scathing tone, but you’re in no mood. 

“I’m making another drop.” He says simply.

“Aren’t there other people in this group of yours that could do such a menial task?” You ask as your hand gestures about showing your aggravation.

“Of course there is. This man just can’t help himself from being subjected to your company.” Drake interjects as he walks next to the both of you earning a glare from Xaden and an eye roll from you.

“Well let me not subject you to anything, I was just on my way out.” 

“Wait.” Xaden stops you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“What? Sgaeyl didn’t give you your report from Dhìoch?” His eyes flaring the only indication that he knows what you mean.

“Exactly. Don’t think I don’t know why my dragon suddenly knew where I was.” You say pointedly. “I’m going on patrol, Drake, I’ll be back later.”

“I’ll come with you.” Xaden says walking to your side.

You whir on him and a sneer leaves your lips. “You, sir, are not enrolled in service to the Poromish, so I don’t think you will.”

“No, I’m not, but I wasn’t asking your permission either.” Xaden steps into your space and you immediately let go a growl and stomp away in the direction of your dragon.

As you make it to the flight field of the palace you can’t stop yourself as you turn. 

“What are you trying to accomplish?” You challenge.

Xaden huffs his own frustrated sigh, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m trying to prove to you that you are my fucking world. But for some reason, you won’t give me the time of day.”

A humorless laugh leaves your lips. “I won’t give you the time of day. That’s rich coming from you.”

Xaden finally realizes exactly what he said and immediately turns sheepish. You just roll your eyes at the brooding idiot in front of you.

“Let’s go if you’re coming.” The exasperation in your voice is high as you acquiesce to Xaden. His eyes immediately light up and he pulls you to him placing a lingering kiss to your hair. A breathless ‘thank you’ leave his lips before he turns and seamlessly mounts Sgaeyl. 

You shake your head at the last few minutes and immediately mount Dhìoch for your patrol.

This process now seems to repeat every time Xaden makes a weapons drop to Cordyn. Though you get a reprieve for a week at a time when he is clearly stationed at an outpost. 

Walking into a strategy meeting, your brows furrow as you look at the serious looks on the faces of Syrena and Drake. Looking between the two, you know whatever they are discussing isn’t going to be good news.

“Some intel we have seems to point to them heading to Pavis for some reason.” Your ears immediately perk up at the mention of the town you spent weeks in after Resson.

“We are spread thin though, we can only spare one or two fliers to station there.” Drake says not taking his eyes off the map.

“Send me.” There’s no hesitation in your voice as all three heads turn your way. “I’ll be reinforcements. Besides, the only thing going on here seems to be wyvern patrols.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that? We won’t have much back up for you.” Drake questions as he studies you.

“I’m sure. I owe it to the people of the town that took me in without question.” The finality of your voice must convey your seriousness.

“Alright. Though you may need to go alone at first before we can split a squad.” Syrena says as if that would change your mind.

“That’s not a problem. I’ll go start packing.” Immediately rising, you walk briskly towards the bedroom that you’ve called home the last two months.

“Are you trying to avoid a certain shadow wielder’s drop tomorrow?” Drake says as he leans in the door frame. A huff leaves you as you shake your head at his question. 

“No, actually. This has nothing to do with him. I owe Red and Ceridwen more than they’ll ever realize.” You stop packing to look back at Drake. The thought of seeing the people who became surrogate parents spurring your rush. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure they are safe.”

Drake gives you a knowing smile while pushing off the door. “I know you’ll take care of them the best way you can.”

As he turns, he throws over his shoulder, “though I don’t know how we’ll survive when your incendiary loverboy finds out you aren’t here.”

The comment causes you to burst out in a fit of laughter before replying. “Oh, I have faith that you can figure it out.”

Drake waves you off as he continues down the hallway and you go back to packing.

A few hours later you find yourself taking a deep breath and enjoying the freedom of flying, while trying to stop from thinking about what you may be walking into. As Dhìoch begins her descent, you cannot help the beaming smile that lights your face seeing the tavern in the distance.

‘Do you think you’d be willing to meet the people who took me in?’ Hesitently asking Dhìoch down the bond.

‘I’d be willing to show my appreciation to the people who looked after you.’ Dhìoch hums in response and your smile grows a little wider.

Dhìoch comes to a stop not far from the front of the inn and you dismount quickly hoping to alert the owners inside without drawing too much ire from the rest of the residents. As you step into the tavern, the smell of roasting meats and stale alcohol hit your nostrils and your nose scrunches in memory.

Noting the lack of either of the people you are looking for, you knock on the bar and call out in a harsh voice. “Can’t anyone get some service around here.”

The heavy thump of a cup hitting a table makes you smirk as you watch Red come from the back, a look of irritation on his face. Though the look doesn’t last long as the minute he recognizes you he smiles widely almost as if welcoming hope his daughter. The warmth that settles in your chest has you smiling right back to him. 

“Ceridwen.” He calls to the kitchen. “Come and see what the gryphon dragged in.”

“What are you talking ab-“Ceridwen’s words are cut off as she sees you standing at the bar. “Oh, my dear, I’m so happy to see you.”

It takes less than ten seconds to be swept up into Ceridwen’s hug as you hear Red’s warm laugh behind you. You haven’t smiled so much in the last few months, let alone the last year. 

Your heart continues to warm hours later as you sit at a table in the tavern deep in conversation with the two.

“If I would’ve known that introducing you to Drake would put you in so much danger, I would’ve contacted someone else.” Red grumbles next to you. 

“You can’t blame it all on Drake, I did ask and require him to take me.” Your reassurance does nothing to quell Red’s thoughts on this issue if his huff is anything to go by.

“So how long will you be here?” Ceridwen asks though you can see the worry in her eyes.

“Hopefully not long, and if we are lucky, the intel that was given is false.” You say as you smile, but this time it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Either way,” Red says, clapping you on his back as he begins to walk towards his chambers. “We’ll sleep better at night knowing that you and your dragon will be here watching out for us.”

You squeeze Ceridwen’s hand and send them both a small smile as you begin to turn and walk to your own bed. As you sink into the mattress you can’t help but take a deep breath, relishing in the warm feeling of familiarity and comfort.

True to their words, a few days later a pair of fliers come into the tavern looking for you, relaying your orders from Drake. Though you look up in shock when the man himself walks into the tavern not long after they had finished.

“Why are you here?” You ask in obvious confusion. “Jesper and Tusarr just told me everything I needed to know as far as orders.”

“Wonderful.” He clasps his hands, and you can see the agitation rolling off him only causing your confusion to continue. “I’m glad that has been cleared up, but that isn’t why I’m here. Unfortunately, I’m here on a personal matter regarding you.”

You quirk an eyebrow in invitation for him to continue.

“I don’t know what magic you’ve used, but it seems we’ve almost had another international incident with your rabble-rousing paramour.” You honestly feel like you’re in some sort of book, shaking your head slightly, Drake must be joking.

“The shadow wielder just about tore down the entire palace when he learned you weren’t in Cordyn. Though with his temper there was not time to explain to him that we knew where you were.”

Now a humorous smile is stretching across your face, and you can’t help when the laugh you’ve been trying to hold in bubbles out.

“I knew that you could embellish things, but this seems extreme, even for you Drake.” You say between laughter as your hand comes up to grasp Drake on the shoulder. Though your laugh begins to die down when you see the look on Drake’s face.

“O-Oh.” You stutter in amazement. “You really are serious.”

The indignant scoff he gives you is only broken off by the slamming of a door against the tavern wall. You both turn your head quickly as the air in the tavern turns icy with anger. 

“Why are you always with him?” The question comes out in a growl as the disgruntled man stalks towards you as if he’s the predator and you’re his prey.

Your eyes flash in challenge, after everything over the last year, you refuse to back down. 

Turning away from Xaden, you direct your next statement to Drake. “Thanks Drake. I’ll take it from here and I’ll speak with you again before you leave regarding the next few weeks.”

Drake gives you a curt nod and a small uptick of his mouth, turning away from Xaden and back out the door of the tavern. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turn your head and look up to meet the stare of the most insufferable man in your life, at the moment at least. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You snap at Xaden while straightening your spine. You relish in the surprise that flashes in his eyes when you step up into his space. 

“My problem. You just fucking left Cordyn and didn’t say a fucking word.” Xaden gets out between grit teeth.

“Here’s the problem Xaden.” Your tone short. “You think you have a say in where I go. You aren’t my wingleader anymore. I do not report to the cadre at Basgiath or in Aretia or whatever the gods names you are part of, so I don’t see where I’m stationed or move to is any of your business.”

You watch as his jaw ticks and you can feel the tension in his muscles from where he stands close to you. 

“I am more than aware of all of that. I am aware that I have no right to know where you are.” The anger in his voice is present, but his eyes tell a different story. In his onyx depths you can see the fear and panic swirl in and out of their golden flecks. “But for my own fucking sanity, I need to know.”

The last part comes out as little more than a whisper. An admission that looks like it may have cost the man in front of you his entire being. Xaden takes a shaky breath before closing his eyes.

“I have no right to demand anything from you, and I know that. But I about went out of my fucking mind when I searched for you, and you were nowhere in Cordyn.” He takes a small breath before the emotion clogging his throat stops him.

An arm shoots out and forcefully pulls you forward, his arms wrapping around you in a vice grip. “I ca- I can’t lose you like that again. You can’t just disappear.” The last part is a whisper in your ear as his face comes to burrow in your hair.

You stand there for a few moments unsure exactly what to do. After the night in Cordyn, you thought the way Xaden acted was just from the shock of finally seeing you again, but with this, you realize there is something more to it.

Finally giving in for just a moment, you bring your arms around Xaden’s waist and return the hug. You hear his breath hitch from where his face is still buried in your hair and his arms hug you tighter. 

“Truthfully, I wasn’t trying to hide from or scare you.” You tell him, your tone gentle. “There’s been intel given and I chose to come back here. This place is special to me.”

Xaden picks up his head looking at you with furrowed brows as you finish and give a labored sigh. 

“After I left Resson, I traveled on foot for a few days and found myself here. I worked in this tavern for a few months before the owner, Red, put me in contact with Drake to assist with the war effort.” Xaden watches you explain, and you see the hurt on his face at your tale of your own exploits after Resson. 

“Someone could’ve killed you if they knew you were a rider.” Xaden’s panic is palpable, and you huff a laugh.

“At the time, I didn’t really care.” Xaden’s eyes flash before he’s dragging you into another hug, crushing you even harder than before.

“Though I have to ask one question.” You say as you pull away from Xaden’s hold. “If I didn’t disappear, would you be acting this way? Would you be fighting for me like you are now?”

The look on Xaden’s face makes you shake your head and move a few steps away putting much needed space between the two of you.

“Exactly.” Resigned, you continue, maybe because you want to add salt to the wound making him suffer like you did. “While I was here, I was welcomed. Hell, I’d go out on a limb and say I’m loved. And you dare to be jealous of Drake, when he’s done nothing but look after me for the last few months.”

“Gods Xaden. Is there any us to go back to?” The bitterness in your voice cutting like the blade of your sheathed dagger.

“Don’t say that.” Xaden utters, a quiet plea.

“Why? It’s the truth. You’re trying to atone for something that I don’t even know if we can get past. How can I trust that when push comes to shove, I’ll be your priority?”

“Fuck! I know!” He says, his anger getting the best of him. “Do you not understand how angry I am at myself for the way I treated you. For the way I let you be left behind.”

Xaden begins pacing franticly in a way you’ve never seen before. “I’ve woken up every fucking day – when I did even fall asleep - replaying all the fucking ways I’ve failed you. The one person I never wanted to neglect; is the one person I wholeheartedly failed the most.”

“And no, I can’t change all my shitty actions. I can’t do anything but try to gain your trust back for the rest of my fucking life. I would gladly take a scar for every way that I’ve hurt you than lose you forever. You are the only sunshine I’ve found in a life that’s been filled with nothing but rainstorms and darkness. I’ll do whatever I can to prove to you that I’m worthy of you. That you are my only priority.” As he was speaking Xaden grabbed your hands in his and continued to drag his thumbs over your wrists, grounding you to the feeling of him. 

Tipping back your head and closing your eyes to take a moment for yourself, you try to clear your mind from all the hurt that you’ve felt. To wade through the overwhelming swath of emotions. 

But your head jerks up and eyes go wide as you hear the sirens blare. Pulling your hands from Xaden, you yell for Jesper and Tusarr telling them to find Drake.

As you sheath the few weapons you had left behind the counter, you look back to Xaden. “We can discuss this more later, but you need to leave. That’s the attack siren and if Dhìoch is correct we only have about twenty minutes.”

He looks at you with steel in his eyes. “I’m not fucking leaving.”

“Yes, you are.” You say back with finality. “You aren’t even supposed to be here and this isn’t your fight. You need to get back to your own riot.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you here to fight alone.” Xaden hisses through grit teeth as you both walk out of the tavern.

You turn and pull him down by the lapels on his jacket. “Yes. You. Are.” Steel in your gaze and words. “This is not your fight. This is Poromiel, not Navarre, not Aretia, not Tyrrendor. Go home and defend it.”

You let go and get two steps before his hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you backwards. 

“I’m going to get the rest of my riot from Draithus and will be right back.” He explains, his face directly in yours. “Do not be reckless.”

Before you can give him a sarcastic sass back, you are plastered to his chest, his hands in your hair at the nape of your neck, and he’s kissing you with a ferocity you’ve never felt from him. You gasp as the kiss ends as quickly as it began and he’s tearing himself away and mounting Sgaeyl.

You blink a few times and then shake your head, trying to clear it before running for Dhìoch. 

‘You need to clear your head for battle.’ Dhìoch sasses, clear amusement in her tone.

‘And you need to learn to tell me when Sgaeyl is here and bringing around her infuriating rider.’ You snark back with an irritated sneer to the back of your dragon’s head.

‘He may be infuriating, but he still has your heart racing.’ You roll your eyes at your dragon’s need to maneuver in to your personal life. 

Your banter with your dragon is cut short when you see an entire hoard of wyvern in the distance heading straight towards Pavis. 

‘Are you ready for this Dhìoch?’ You ask, your mind calculating on the best ways to strike.

‘We will not fail. Now brace yourself Loyal One.’ Dhìoch says before shooting straight towards the hoard.

Your heart rate kicks up as the prospect of your first battle back with your dragon begins. 

‘Can you relay the information to the gryphons to help evacuate the citizens and we’ll handle the hoard?’ You direct.

‘Done, they are working to put them in the safe houses.’ Dhìoch confirms as she cuts through the air with a precision you admire. 

As you get closer, your eyes widen at the amount of venin atop the wyvern. You try to count, but you lose it at five. Gears clicking in your mind, you take a mental tally of the alloyed daggers you have on you and know you must keep them close. Having only three will limit your ability to throw. 

‘Are you ready Dhìoch? I’m going to need you to fly as close to the wyvern as possible.’ You ask as you go over the plan in your head.

‘I don’t believe the Brooding One would agree with your plan, but yes we will take these abominations down.’ You ignore Dhìoch’s tease and reach for her power.

As you feel the sensation of her power fill your veins you look down to see your fingers disappear from view. Once you can feel yourself fully cloaked, you carefully stand and walk as close to the juncture of Dhìoch’s leg and wing. As Dhìoch begins to hover, you duck to avoid scorching blue fire as it sizzles through the air above you and immediately slide down off her back.

Landing on the back of one of the smaller wyverns, you crouch and try to gain your balance as best as possible. The small form in front of you wears purple leathers and you assume this must be one of their students. Without giving the venin time to turn around, you fling one of your three daggers and hit it in the back of the neck. You watch as the blood flows and the venin goes limp. Before you can jump, you feel the wyvern you are on begin to rapidly descend. 

Immediately rising to your feet, you don’t think and just jump though you know you are too close to the wyverns falling body.

‘Dhìoch!’ Your mental voice is panicked as you are unsure where your dragon is currently. The panic doesn’t last long as you suddenly feel talons wrap around you. Drawing a ragged, grateful breath when you see the coppery sheen above you.

‘You should trust me more than that.’ Dhìoch says in an offended tone as she tosses you up and catches you on her back.

Scoffing, you can’t help but roll your eyes. ‘Yes, well I wasn’t expecting that wyvern to go into freefall.’

You get back into your seat and Dhìoch begins to climb above the battle again. Looking down, you can see a venin on the way into the heart of town. Panic begins to rise when you realize that Ceridwen and Red are in the perfect collision course for the venin.

‘You must take me down Dhìoch. I won’t let anything happen to them.’ You can feel your terror begin to take over at the thought of something happening to the couple that took you in.

‘Get them out and then come right back. I will not let you get drained on the ground.’ Dhìoch growls, her disapproval evident. 

Dhìoch begins her descent, and you know this will be a running landing. Throwing up a quick prayer to Zinhal, you rise from her back and head back to her shoulder. As she hits to the perfect height, you let yourself fall and with more ease than you expected, you are immediately running towards the tavern. 

“Red! Ceridwen! Get out now!” You yell at the top of your lungs racing for the front of the tavern. 

Ceridwen darts out of the front door with a small satchel in tow. Behind her your eyes widen as Red dons his brown leathers and is sheathing a sword to his back.

“You should be taking shelter with Ceridwen!” You yell at him as soon as he’s in earshot.

He gives you a look that shows he is anything but impressed. “No, I should be fighting for you and Ceridwen both and that is what I intend to do.”

Ceridwen comes next to you and puts a hand on your forearm. “You’re fighting a losing battle my dear, so instead of wasting any time, let’s go.”

You shake your head and begin pulling Ceridwen along. ‘Dhìoch can you tell Tusarr to help get Ceridwen to safety.’ A low growl in your head is the only response before you hear the screech of a gryphon landing. 

“Go with Tusarr, she’ll take you to the others. I’ll take care of Red the best I can.” You say to Ceridwen before she tugs you close in a tight hug.

“Take care of yourself, my dear, and don’t worry about Red, he can take care of himself.” She says before letting you go and repeating the same process with Red.

‘Alright Dhìoch, let’s take down some more of these dark wielders.’ You say as you run towards an opening for Dhìoch to land.

As you see her scales come into view, you turn, and your eyes fly wide. In the few minutes since leaving Red behind a venin has materialized and is staring him down. Letting Dhìoch’s power flow, you mask yourself and begin sprinting toward Red’s side. 

Getting closer you see him locked in battle and as much as you don’t want to admit it to yourself, his strength seems to be waning. 

Your heart stops and eyes go wide as you watch the venin slash down Red’s arm with a dagger that was just dripping with a green liquid.

“NO!” The scream rips from your lips as Red slashes his sword towards the venin slashing at its throat. As you slowly get closer you can see Red’s movements becoming sluggish.

Please Malek, no! Take me instead!

‘Dhìoch you need to get Red to the healers and tell Drake to get him healed.’ You demand of your dragon. 

Not taking your eyes from the venin still managing to stand, you stalk forward, cloaked and invisible. Your face contorted in rage, you continue running and pull the alloyed dagger from your ribs. Without stopping, you barrel into the venin with your dagger leading straight into his chest. The venin hisses at the impact and the dive of your blade. Blood rushing in your ears, you fall with the venin, and it isn’t until you roll, now looking up at the sky that a familiar burning pain breaks through at your wrist.

You don’t need to look down to know that some of the poison is now in your system, but you won’t let them win. You won’t let the venin take Pavis without a fight. Slowly rising to your feet and looking at your surroundings., the town that you have loved is now alight in flames surrounded with a thick smoke, suffocating the beautiful town center. 

‘I am on my way to you, Loyal One.’ Dhìoch confirms as you begin to jog towards an area for her to land.

As soon as you see Dhìoch’s talons hit the ground, you start running for her leg. Your breathing is coming in rapid pants as you try to ignore the burn in your arm. 

‘You need to be seen by a healer as well.’ Dhìoch growls as you tear a strip from your shirt and wrap your wrist.

‘No. I will save these people first, with or without your help.’ You demand without feeling any remorse for your biting tone.

You can feel Dhìoch’s displeasure at your response down the bond, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she flies back into the din, the stifling smell of smoke rising from the ground and clouding your vision. As though Zinhal hears your pleas, there is a break in the smoke on the horizon and you spot a venin with its robes billowing in the wind.

‘That one’s next.’ You refuse to hear any argument from Dhìoch as you set your sights on the enemy in front of you. Dhìoch slices through the air and as you grow closer to the venin, you can see the brilliant red that spiders from the creature’s eyes down the sides of its face.

Dhìoch clearly has read your intentions and begins her ascent to hover over the massive wyvern that has your next target. As she levels out, you begin to lower to her shoulder but can’t bite back a sharp intake of breath when your wrist moves, the poison making its presence known. You try to avoid the sting and crouch before launching yourself from Dhìoch’s back.

For a few seconds you are airborne and hoping that you estimated the correct spot. You don’t have long to worry as you feel your feet hit the leathery surface of the wyvern. You let your entire body drop as you try to gain your balance on the creature. 

Looking up, your eyes fly wide realizing that the venin can see you and is looking directly into your eyes.

“Ah, the pained one again makes an appearance. Tell me, do you really think you can win this challenge?” The oily voice that drags from the venin in front of you draws shivers down your spine.

You don’t respond as you know there is no reason. The venin slowly stalks towards you, wind whipping at their robes with two blades drawn. Assessing the way the venin moves; you know that you’ll have to be quick.

‘Make sure you’re below me Dhìoch, just in case.’ You hear the hum of agreement in your mind as you draw your blade.

‘Dispatch the dark wielder quickly. You need to get back to the flyer captain.’ You hear the slight concern in Dhìoch’s voice.

You continue using Dhìoch’s power to remain cloaked, although you’re unsure of how much use it Is against the venin. Creeping forward you hold an alloy hilted dagger in your right hand. Letting the thought linger too long, you must go on the defensive when the venin strikes first, and the bite of a dagger slashes close to your face. 

Ducking down, you feel your foot slip slightly on the leathery back of the wyvern. Without thinking through your moves, you slam a dagger into the back of the wyvern to avoid falling. The minute it embeds, the wyvern bucks and you can do nothing but hold on as best you can, your wrist burning with fury. Regrettably, the venin does not seem to be affected by the wyverns thrashing. You watch as they continue to get closer and try to throw your right leg up and regain your balance. 

Pulling yourself up, you don’t see as the venin brings one of its blades down and though you move quickly, it isn’t quick enough to evade the blade completely. An agonizing scream tears from you as the blade pierces your side.

‘Loyal One, finish it!’ Dhìoch demand is covered in icy dread as you try to push past the pain. 

Taking as deep of a breath as you can, you gather your remaining strength and duck as the venin goes to slash at your other side. A loud roar sounds that causes the venin to turn its head and you take the opportunity to bury your remaining alloyed dagger into its throat. 

The venin coughs and sputters grabbing at its throat, but you watch as the skin around it begins greying and shriveling.

“You bitch!” The venin gasps and lunges towards you. Losing your balance, you trip backwards and find yourself falling from the leathered surface of the wyvern. A particularly fiery jolt of pain slashes through you as you begin falling and you watch as your arms raise, and you can see you are no longer invisible.

“Y/N!” A voice calls in the distance and you turn to see a blur of blue. As your mind is drug down with poison, you barely have the cognizance to call out for Dhìoch. 

You hear air furiously whipping around you and all the breath tumbles from your lungs when you hit a rough surface hard. The impact has your vision going completely black as your body jerks from the impact. 

With all the poison coursing through your veins, it proves impossible to open your eyes, but you can feel that your body is still rolling. The only thought left is that those you care about are safe before you succumb to the darkness.

You feel your consciousness pull forward, even though your body feels like a thousand weights are tied to it, even your eyelids feel tethered. The roughness that you remember last seems to be replaced with something soft and the fire in your veins only a light hum. The exhaustion of your mind and body don’t keep your conscious state around long as you feel yourself drift again. 

Unsure of how long you’ve been in a state of poisoned dissidence you finally feel as if you can move your small extremities. You take the time to try and wiggle your fingers and toes, but your eyelids still feel like they have anchors attached. You try straining to hear any sounds around you, but everything still feels slightly muffled.

“How long is this going to take?” An impatient male voice penetrates your ears.

“That’s not something I can predict. I can’t mend the poison from her system.” Another male voice replies in exhaustion.

“It’s been over a week. It didn’t take this long when Violet was poisoned.” Confusion swirls in your brain as you try to place the name that seems so familiar. 

“I understand, but poison doesn’t affect every person the same. Besides, from the light discoloration from her veins on her left arm, it seems like this has happened before.” The exhausted male voice replies.

You can hear as the pacing footsteps suddenly halt. “What?!?” The other voice says a tone that seems slightly panicked but also filled with fury.

“Didn’t you notice the black veins running down her arm while we were in Cordyn. They stood in stark relief to her skin and that dress.” You’d give anything to move your body, wanting to wrap your arms around yourself in soothing gesture at the conversation you’re hearing.

“I was a little busy trying to keep myself in one place and not forcefully pick her up and leave with Sgaeyl, so no, I suppose I didn’t notice.” Realization hits as now you realize its Xaden’s voice you’re hearing. “Besides, why would that matter, that was over a month ago now.”

“Yes, but her body obviously wasn’t recovered from that poisoning, so now it’s taking longer.” The other male in the room has a voice that sounds familiar now, but you still can’t place it.

“And I’m going out of my fucking mind. I’m being ordered to Draithus again tomorrow and I can’t leave not knowing if she’s going to be okay.” Xaden’s voice becomes tight with worry and frustration.

“Unfortunately, Lieutenant, you don’t have much of a choice. You’re going to be leaving tomorrow with Sgaeyl and you’ll have to deal with it.” The voice has grown hard, both with weariness and aggravation. 

“Don’t fucking try me, Brennan. You won’t fucking win.” Xaden challenges.

“Oh, I don’t have to try you. Lieutenant Colonel, remember?” With that last statement, you hear as footsteps sound and a door clicking shut behind them. 

As you begin to feel the eternal pull of sleep weighing on your body again, you notice the bed you’re in dip down slightly. 

“Blaze, I need you to fight this. I need you with me. You can’t leave me again, not like this, not before I can show you how much I love you.” There’s no mistaking the pain in Xaden’s voice and the way it breaks in and out. It’s clear that he’s barely holding himself together, but the pull of darkness is too sweet to deny.

 

Taking a deep breath, you finally feel the ability to flutter your eyes open. Though as you do and stare up at the ceiling, everything still feels foggy. You’re unsure of how long you just lay there with your eyes open, but eventually you gather enough strength to sit up. 

Looking around, your brow furrows trying to place the room you are in. It’s well appointed, but there’s no white marble and blinding gold, this chamber is pure stone with tapestries lining the wall generating some warmth to the space. You look up at an armoire that is at the side of the room and turn to see a door that you assume must be a bathing chamber. 

There is a large green chair that has been posted next to the bed as if someone was sitting there waiting for you. You close your eyes as you try to clear the fog that still clings to your brain and memories. The action feels like wading through waist deep water, and you can’t help the confusion that seems to settle.

Brows furrowing you try to remember the last place you were, because you know it wasn’t wherever this is. Looking down, you see that you’re in a pair of loose-fitting black pants and oversized shirt. Running a hand through your hair, your nose scrunches at the greasy feeling of your hair. Whatever has happened in the last few days, the only thing you want right now is a nice long shower.

Slowly picking your overtired body from the bed, you shift to a standing position. Trying your best not to wobble, you walk into the bathing chamber and immediately spot the shower and take a deep breath. Hobbling straight over, you turn the taps and let the warm water run through your fingers relishing in the feeling. You let yourself relax into the shower and hope to Amari that the water will wash the fog of your mind. 

Grabbing a towel and drying yourself, you walk towards the mirror and place your hands on the sink sucking in a breath and letting the granite hold your weight. The peace that settled into you during your shower is short lived as you look up into the mirror. 

Gasping, you fumble backwards, and your hand flies up to your chest. You watch the mirror as your fingers trace the scar on the left side of your body and the lingering blackness. Eyes flying wide, the memories of the battle rush back in a torrent causing you to move. 

You go back into the room, the peace of the shower completely gone, and search for clothes. You see riding leathers that look to be about the right size and immediately begin tugging them on your body. Lacing your boots with as much efficiency as you can master, you are shooting up, not concerned about your hair or the fact that you don’t even know where you are. 

Only one thought is pulsing through your mind. ‘Is Red alright? And where is Ceridwen?’ The thought leaves unbidden, and you pull up to a halt at the bottom of the stairs when there’s a response.

‘They are both safe and resting in a small cottage in town.’ Dhìoch’s voice slithers quietly into your mind.

‘Can you take me to them?’ You ask as everything hits in succession.

You know you must look like a crazed fiend, but your emotions are hitting you from every side and you need to see they are safe for yourself. There’s a minute where you think Dhìoch will deny you, but then you just ignore her and begin back down the stairs and sprint out large doors. 

Unsure where you are and where you are going, you turn and see a small town in the valley below. Turning back your eyes widen at the stone fortress that you just exited from. 

I’ll worry about that later. Is the only thought you have as you begin walking towards the town below. You have no idea where you are going, just that you need to lay eyes on the two people that saved you from yourself.

As you begin to enter the thick of the town, you wrap your arms around yourself as you brace from the cold wind that has begun whipping around you. Arriving at the heart of the town, you enter into one of the taverns. 

“Excuse me.” You say as you walk up to the barkeep. “Do you happen to know if there was a couple that was brought to this village from Pavis a few days ago? Their names are –.“

“Y/N!” You cut yourself off as you hear the familiar voice yell your name.

“Ceridwen!” You yell back and instantly run towards her and embrace her in a bruising hug. 

“Thank the gods! We’ve been so worried about you.” She gets out in a rush parsing over you as if looking for injuries.

“I’m fine. How are you? Is Red alright?” The rush of your words and panic in your eyes makes Ceridwen soften her eyes at you.

“Thanks to you.” She says as she grabs you by the arm. “Come. I know he will be ecstatic to see you finally awake.”

She leads you back out into the town and the tension in your chest begins to ease slightly at her warmth. A small smile spreads on your lips as you get closer to a small cottage closer to the outskirts of the town. Hope fluttering in your chest as Ceridwen goes to open the wooden door and you can’t help but notice the green roof that seems to line every house you’ve passed.

“Ceri did you happen to get any eggs while you were out.” A male voice calls that immediately has you taking a breath of relief. 

Walking further into the room, a beaming smile spreads across your face that you can’t control. 

“Thank the gods!” Red says in a breathless whisper before tugging you into a fierce hug.

You let your body slacken as the relief of seeing them both crashes over you, Ceridwen coming up behind you and hugging you as well. You let yourself melt into the warmth of their hugs and take the first deep breath you’ve had since you’ve woken up in this strange place.

An hour later you find yourself drifting, your eyes involuntarily closing as the exertion of your day begins to hit you full force.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s get you in bed.” You hear Ceridwen whisper softly.

“I don’t want to intrude.” You say though it comes out in a yawn.

“My dear, you saved our lives, the least we can do is let you rest.” You don’t argue with her logic and slowly follow her to one of the bedrooms. As soon as you step next to the bed, you fall into the mattress and your eyes slide closed.

The next day, you feel at least some of your energy has returned to its normal state and take a short walk into the hills surrounding the town. As you sit with your back on one of the trees, you breathe in the clean air and let the calm of the forest wash over you.

‘Why are you always such trouble?’ Dhìoch slides into your mind a hint of amusement in her tone.

‘Excuse me. How exactly am I trouble? And hello to you too.’ You don’t try to hide your indignation. 

‘Always the one to jump in and save others. Then taking two weeks to wake up.’ You scoff at your dragon, especially when she is intruding on the little solitude you seemed to have found. It isn’t as if you asked to be poisoned again.

‘You could’ve found another rider. I gave you the opportunity to leave me behind.’ Your dragon’s snarl curls around your mind and you know she would be knocking you to the ground if she was in front of you.

‘That isn’t what I was implying. You aren’t the trouble for me. Sgaeyl is.’ Dhìoch says, her tone bored. Though you can’t help but send your confusion through your bond. In the back of your mind a faint whisper of someone talking while you were poisoned flits in your mind, but you can’t quite place it. 

‘Dhìoch, where exactly are we anyway.’ You look around and there is something so familiar about the land, but the answer seems to evade you.

‘I believe the answer to all of that will be coming very shortly.’ You roll your eyes at your dragon’s insistent use of non-answers to your questions. 

Beginning to feel your body tire again, you slowly rise to your feet to begin the trek back to Red and Ceridwen’s cottage. You didn’t ask them where you were, but you were so concerned with their safety, you didn’t care. Knowing they were both safe was the only thought that crossed your mind. 

As you get closer to the cottage, your body begins to feel to heavy and when you go to take your next step, your knee gives out. Expecting to crash to the ground, your eyes snap closed and you brace for the impact. When impact doesn’t come, you open your eyes back up and they flare as they lock with onyx ones.

With two long strides you find yourself gathered tightly in Xaden’s arms and his head buried in your hair. 

“You’re going to send me to Malek one of these days.” He whispers in your hair, though there’s no bite to his tone. You huff a humorless laugh at the statement while still being crushed to the chiseled lines of his chest.

“For some reason I think I have an appointment with the god of death before you do.” You sass back at the insufferable man that has your entire being plastered to him. As if in offense, his arms tighten around you further.

“Don’t even fucking joke like that.” His words come out hard a biting tone to every syllable.

He suddenly pulls you back and stares intensely back into your eyes. He continues searching yours before the exhaustion of the day starts to seep into you again. You let out a large yawn and begin to pull away from him.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” Before you can get further than two steps ahead, Xaden has grabbed your wrist and whirled you back around.

“Then come with me.” His tone now soft as he looks pleadingly into your eyes. 

“Come with you where? I don’t even know where we are. All I know is there are two people that are grateful for my existence in this cottage that offered me a warm bed.” You continue as you gesture towards the cottage. 

“You’re in Aretia. I took you here after Pavis was evacuated.” He says as if that is an entire explanation.  

“While I appreciate everything you’ve done for Red and Ceridwen, I’ll only be staying until I feel back to myself fully.” You say turning again to walk away.

“You are staying here.” Xaden states with finality and you whir around fully intending to give him a piece of your mind at his overbearing insistence. Your plans however are dashed when the world begins to tilt, and your eyes roll skyward.

“Y/N, Love.” Is all you hear before you feel weightless and find yourself wrapped up in Xaden’s arms and he begins to jog. Unsure of what is happening, you try to let yourself relax as breathing becomes more of a chore. 

Seeming to fade back in and out, you suddenly feel the sharp sting of wind at your face, though Xaden tries to fold you closer towards his chest. “You’ll be alright love; you just need to hold on for me.” Xaden whispers, his mouth grazing your ear with every word. His words may be steady, but there is no mistaking the dread laced in their tone.

As your breathing begins to grow shallow, you’re jolted in Xaden’s arms. Trying to open your eyes, you are met with the looming shadow of the fortress that you had left from a day ago. Though that isn’t what shocks your system.

Your eyes catch Xaden’s for only a heartbeat, but the absolute terror swirling in them puts a crack in the wall that you’ve had up for months. 

“Where’s Brennan?” Xaden barks, between the force of the command and the panic you can only imagine the way people part for the man.

“Wh-what the hell Riorson?” Another male voice questions from further away.

“You need to help her. She fainted and she’s barely breathing.” Xaden explains as you can feel him climbing and hear as a door is kicked open. 

“Stop standing there and fucking help her!” The roar leaving Xaden’s lips has your pulse jumping at the threatening tone.

“You need to calm down. Most likely it’s just the aftereffects of the poison trying to leave her system.” The calm male voice says as you feel Xaden place you down on a soft surface.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down.” Xaden growls. “She’s been out for two fucking weeks and then disappears and no one fucking tells me! You want me to calm down, then fix her!”

No words are exchanged before you hear footsteps coming closer to the bed and then a warm sensation seems to wash over your skin. As the warmth begins to fade, you finally take a deep breath and exhale out of your mouth, eyes fluttering open to the familiar stone ceiling you had woken to before.

“Thank the gods.” A breathless whisper comes before Xaden is kneeling next to the bed you are in, closer to your head. Your head turns and you’re met with the eyes that you can never seem to get out of your mind. He brings a hand to your head and cradles your cheek, rubbing his thumbs back and forth in a soothing motion. 

“What happened?” Your brows furrow as you blink your eyes trying to clear the fog in your head.

Another figure catches your attention, and you look down to see a man you’ve never seen before sitting at the base of the bed. 

“I believe it was the last remnants of poison pushing through your system.” The man with auburn curls tells you. 

Your eyes don’t stay on him long as you feel your body begin to drag you down again. Looking back up to Xaden, you slowly blink, the heaviness of sleep beckoning you. “I’m tired.”

“I know, my Love.” Xaden murmurs as his hand continues to stroke your cheek. “Sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You blame it on the exhaustion pulling at you when his words cause your entire body to warm and a spark in your chest begin to ignite, though the flicker grows hotter when he leans in and gives your forehead a lingering kiss. Not letting yourself dwell on your feelings, you close your eyes and let yourself drift. 

Unsure of how long it’s been since you’ve drifted, your eyes blink open to darkness around you. Trying to roll to your right and out of the bed, you are immediately stopped by hand that is firmly gripping yours. Turning your head, you see a large figure slouched in sleep in a large armchair brought as close as possible to the bed. 

You slowly untangle your fingers from Xaden’s and continue your roll out of the bed. Heading towards what you think are the windows, you silently let yourself lean into the wall. Pulling back one of the curtains, you let yourself relish in the bright light of the moon that highlights the town below. You take in all the little things you can see by the light of the moon, including the way the moonlight glistens over the green rooftops that dot the town.

Caught up in your perusal of the town, you jolt when you hear the quick snap of the chair on the floor and turn as the occupant jolts up and begins striding towards the door.  

“Xaden.” You murmur in bid not to scare him, and his head immediately turns towards your voice. Without responding to you, he meets you in two strides and turns you to face him. 

“Are you feeling alright?” The concern in his eyes and tone is evident, even in the soft way he holds you. 

“I’m…better. Not sure if I’ll ever be alright.” You reveal quietly which causes Xaden’s arms to tighten slightly around you. 

Resignation tearing at you, there’s no way to stop the words from forming. “What do you want Xaden? After living through the last few months, I need to know. What do you want?”

You let the seriousness of your question leech into your stare, not willing to pretend any longer.

“I want everything you’ll give me.” Xaden says bringing both hands to cup your face. 

“I can’t fucking let you go. I refuse.” He continues fervently his eyes blazing with conviction. “What I said back in Cordyn, I meant every godsdamned word. I just need you to believe me.”

Xaden continues to stare back at you his brows furrowing and eyes turning sad. “I need you to give me another chance. Just one. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

Your eyes slide closed as your head battles with your heart. Your head tells you that you’ll never be the priority for this man, but your heart screams for you to give him another chance. It isn’t either of those things that win out though, it’s the words that Red and Ceridwen left you with when you talked last night.

“No relationship is perfect, especially when you’re young. Life is always going to throw different problems in front of love, that's what makes finding it so special. But, if you find the one person that will fight tooth and nail to love you, you hold it close, because no relationship will succeed without the will to fight for it – you can’t just let it go.” Ceridwen finished while she gave Red’s hand a squeeze.

Opening your eyes, you can see the expectant look on Xaden’s face and the stiffness of his arms, even though his touch is still gentle on your cheeks.

“Are you going to fight for this like you will for the continent?” Your question comes out quiet, almost afraid of the answer.

“I will fight with everything in my being, until my last dying breath. I will always fight for you harder than I would ever fight for the continent.” The fiery conviction is only met with absolute certainty as his arm tightens snuggly around your waist tugging you against him. 

Your own hand comes up and pulls his other from your cheek. As you bring it down, you turn his palm and give it a lingering kiss. His breath hitches as his hand tunnels into your hair drawing you fully against him. 

After some time, Xaden’s hand moves to your neck and angles it to look up into his eyes. The moonlight seems to cast them into pools of gold, a swirling mass of love hidden in every corner.

“May I kiss you?” Xaden breathes out in a whisper as if he’s afraid to speak too loudly.

“Only if you promise it’s only the first in a lifetime’s worth.” The smile that he gives you is brighter than the sun before he tugs your face forward and his lips crash to yours.

Caught off guard at the ferocity behind the gesture, you can’t help your smile and the small laugh that bubbles up. You feel as Xaden’s lips curl into their own smile before the kiss turns languid. 

Xaden continues to kiss you slow, as if he’s trying to re-memorize every single corner of your mouth. You feel yourself melt into his arms as he slowly backs up and sits down on the bed. Without breaking the kiss, he pulls you down onto his lap while tightening his grip as if he can’t stand to have a single bit of space between you. 

You gasp into his mouth as you feel every inch of his body press into yours. He pulls away slightly giving your neck a lingering kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“Gods, I missed you. Your taste, your lips, the way you fit in my arms.” Xaden says as he punctuates each one with a kiss. 

“Missed me enough to always put me first?” The seriousness of your voice and conviction in your eyes showing through.

Grabbing your face with both hands, Xaden’s eyes seem to search every corner of yours. “No one and nothing will ever come before you again. That is the easiest promise that I could ever make.”

His hand slides to your waist and pulls you flush against him and for the first time in months, you let yourself relax into his touch and breathe him in. As he feels your body soften against him, he brings your head to rest in the crook of his neck and leaves a lingering kiss on your temple before burying his face in your hair.

“You are the light to my shadow. The only home I’ll ever find rest in, and I’ll spend the rest of my life more than satisfied if I always have you.” He whispers in your hair, and in the darkness of his room, in the middle of the night, you breathe deeply and your heart settles as you find your own home in him.

Taglist: @honethatty12 @motorsportloverf1 @annthepenguin @dragonsandrinks @acourtofsmutandstarlight @minidemont @bookishcait

[robo-writing]

Could I request headcanons or a fic with Logan x reader who loves to nap? Like takes a daily nap? How would he react? Would he get annoyed? Would he snuggle up and nap too? Would he just lay there and snuggle you while he reads or does something? Thanks! ♥️

Logan with a sleepy reader, coming right up!

As usual, he returns to find you buried deep into the couch, blanket draped over your body as you count sheep. At one point he’d be concerned, but nowadays he’s more or less used to the sight of you fast asleep in the middle of the day.

Quietly, he steps around you, making his way to the kitchen where he tries his best to keep silent, even if he knows you sleep like the dead anyway. You don’t so much as stir when he drops a spoon on the counter, but he jumps anyway, guilt written on his face before uttering a silent apology. A few minutes later and he’s finished, walking back to your sleeping form.

Your eyes firmly shut, messy-haired and puffy faced—you look like you’re having an excellent dream, based on the way the corners of your lips curl as you wiggle about. Some might call him creepy, but he really can’t bring himself to care, not when you look so adorable.

This next part is what always trips him up though, gently tapping you on the shoulder. As usual, you grumble in your sleep, but he’s got this down to a science, coaxing you awake with the sound of his voice.

“Darling, it’s me,” he whispers, pulling your hair from your eyes. “Y’don’t gotta wake up, but you’re gonna get a crook in your neck if you keep sleeping there.”

A mumble of something under your breath, one eye barely opening before closing once again. You hum your approval, and within seconds he’s got you gathered in his arms, blanket and all.

“Sorry honey,” he apologizes, and your half-hearted it’s fine has his conscious just that bit lighter.

A couple steps later and he’s got you nice and situated on the bed. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm.”

“I’ve got some snacks for you on the nightstand when you wake up.”

“Mhm…”

“Need anything else?”

He can practically see your ears perk up, already aware of what you’re gonna ask next. Without a word, you open up the blankets to him, grabbing hands tugging at his flannel as he chuckles to himself.

“Yeah, okay doll,” he smiles. “Just lemme get comfortable.”

You nod, half-asleep. “Hurry up.”

True to his word, he rids himself of his shoes, his pants, leaving him in nothing but boxer and a t-shirt—he knows to keep the shirt on, because you’ve mentioned multiple times that you like the smell of him, helps you fall asleep—then he pulls himself under, right next to you.

Arms wrapped around your torso, you instinctively crawl to his side, face pressed into his chest, legs tangled in his. Your face is that of pure content, one that makes his heart swell every time he sees it.

“Good night doll,” he mutters, and you do the same.

[valentine-cafe]

. ˚◞♡ top rockstar boyfriend x bttm male reader x switch naga boyfriend ꒰ kinktober: phone sex ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 1311 jingyi / reader / alessio ꒱ one of your boyfriends goes out of the country and calls you up. yet it would seem your other boyfriend is already taking advantage of the situation and fucking you as much as he possibly can.

𖹭. content warnings◞  explicit content . penetrative sex . hand job . phone sex . rough sex . degradation . dumbification . creampie . threesome . multiple orgasms . jingyi is playing switch & is whiney . 1.6k

𖹭. receipts◞  yk what I'm actually happy that I fucked the prompts up because then I got to write this amazing piece hellooooo

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

“Are you touching yourself, hermoso?”

The deep, grave rumble of his voice stiffles your own in your throat. You swallow, trying to get rid of the lump of mewls and whines that settled itself. Alas, all you could do was buck your hips meekly as your hand presses the phone closer to your ear.

“H-Huh? Course not - of course not. . . Alessio. . .”

You sure did a poor job at convincing him. The strain in your tone combined with your stuttered pants did little to shoot down his accusations. Well. He is still only half right.

“Yeah?” Muses the voice on the other end. You hear the creak of a chair and assume he’s settled in his hotel for the night. While you were less than keen at the idea of Alessio leaving for a few days to handle ‘business’ - you failed to realise what the ramifications of that would entail.

Your ass plaps softly. Just missing the line of the call. A large hand grips onto your hips and yanks you back again. So that your back flushes further into a cold chest. Another arm wraps tightly around your middle, holding you still as slow yet powerful thrusts shake your body and the bed.

Jìngyí always had quite the appetite. Especially now that Alessio was away and he had you all to himself. Of course he wasted no time in pushing into you when you were on the verge of sleep. What a way to wake you right up and keep you in his company for longer.

“So what’s with the panting then, amor? Or are ya that happy to see me, eh?”

Alessio’s croon makes you click your tongue. Bite on your lip and try to keep your hips still as your other boyfriend abruptly speeds his thrusts up. A feral wet slapping fills the room as his hand slips to your thigh, shoves it open - and the other reaches down to palm at your spurting dick. A whisper of hushes, hissed praises meets your ear to top it off.

With a gasp and a choked cry - you barely have time to answer Alessio. Instead, your head falls into the pillow and you whine out oh so loudly. A stammered - “J-Jìng - Jin - yí-!”

You hear the other’s breath hitch over the line and at last, Jìngyí speaks up with a breathless chuckle and words tightened by a clenched jaw. “Pretty lil’ thing’s so messy when you’re not here - fuck - you should see him.”

To accentuate the wet slaps - Jìngyí angles his thrusts and shoves your thighs together. A cold grin falling to his lips when you buck back into him and sob his name down the phone. He can already see Alessio burning green yet painfully hard. He knows his fiance well enough by now.

“Oh,” hums Alessio. You can hear the faintest clear of his throat and another creek of the chair over the line. “Oh I see how it is - you’re both having fun in my absence yeah?”

Jìngyí rolls his eyes. Hands promptly grabbing onto your body and roughly shoving you into the sheets. His weight cramped down on you so that you have no choice but to melt into the sheets as he starts pounding your pretty little ass. Until you are whining out sobs and hiccups through the room and down the phone. His cock stretches your rim out so perfectly - and his aggressive thrusts make you see stars.

A hand tightens around your head. Pushing it down into the plush of pillows as he pours the pure frustration of this week out onto your poor thighs and shaking body.

“A-Ah - ah - ah - ah!”

You slur into the casing. Fingers tight around the fabric. For a moment you had completely forgotten about your other boyfriend over the phone. Until you hear his low grumble.

“Jìngyí.”

The name makes the one above you falter. But he bites down on his lips and narrows his white eyes. Slamming his hips forward so that he might fuck into you shallowly. But it is evident with the sudden atmosphere dripping from your phone’s speaker - something has stirred within him.

The click of a tongue is what sounds through next. Followed by a tutting noise. “Tan lindo ( cute ) . . . what didya think you’d have us both?” Alessio grunts over the line. You hear the shuffling of fabric — and the idea of him sitting there. All alone and stroking at his hard dick leaves you drooling even more. If the way you were squirting over the sheets wasn’t doing enough for you.

“Shut up,” hisses Jìngyí. His body cranes over yours and he continues his movements without falter. Although with a few more whining moans. “You’re not taking lead when -” a clear of his throat. “Y-You are fuckin’. . . countries away.”

Another croon. This time Alessio’s voice takes on a sweet lilt. “Won’t I baby? You might be fucking him sore but I know that whine from anywhere. You’re not getting your way this time.”

That’s how it is with these two. A constant fight for domination and control. Suppose you expected that when you entered a relationship with two tops. If you were not sprawled out on the mattress and being fucked raw - you might have teased Jìngyí for losing this time.

His pace becomes a little sloppy. A bit haphazard the more that Alessio speaks to him. He has the need to claw at you. Control you. But he cannot help but abide by some of the commands thrown his way.

“That all you can do baby? Oh come on, know you can pound him harder. Or are ya playing the pathetic slut t’night?”

And so Jìngyí’s hips somehow gained even more power. Crushing yours into the sheets as he brings his forearms own on either side of your head. His noises both guttural and whiney all the same as he starts fucking into you wildly. Faster. Harder. In every way that makes you whine out his name — and Alessio’s while you’re at it.

All you can do is roll your eyes back. Part your lips and let out your own slew of whines when his rough, large hand cups around your jaw. Forces your head to the side so that he can kiss you all messy. His elongated tongue shoving past your quivering lips and down your throat. So that he might at least have some kind of advantage.

The thin sheets cling onto your body. Like a second sheen of sweat that coats you full. The front of your thighs roughly hump against the mattress, creating the perfect friction for your throbbing, wet dick.

You try to whine for him. Tell him to slow down a bit; but is that really what you want? After all it was you that sleepily grinded into him with all your little whines. It was you that started all of this.

“What ‘bout his cute little dick? You playing with it enough?”

A small rasp of air leaves Jìngyí from the voice of his lover. His hand immediately scrambling to hook around you. Palm and fingers wrapped around your quivering cock once again and pumping messily. His thumb swirling at your tip as though to apologise for his neglect.

The sudden sparks of pleasure to your already overstimmed body makes you cry out. A slur and confused mixture of both of their names pouring from your moist lips as you squirt into the sheets again. And again - and again.

All the while, Jìngyí refuses to let up his thrusts. His whines and groans catching the attention of Alessio who you can already hear palming at his own dick. Probably squeezing around his tip and trying his utmost hardest not to cream himself from the slew of lewd noises pouring out of his phone.

“You gonna cum, cariño? Yeah? Gonna stuff them full?”

“A-Alessioooo,” whines Jìngyí, he cannot stop himself from doing just that. His thrusts faltering and dick tensing for but a moment before he snaps and spurts ropes of icy, cold cum into your awaiting hole. The way he collapses into you with a gasp and starts aggressively, shallowly, humping into you again and again spurts out the thick substance down your thighs.

Not to worry. He’ll stuff you full even more.

Of course you follow quickly after. The feel of him painting your walls has your head dizzy and you can only clench. Squirt yourself. And whine down the call.

“Looks like the little whore couldn’t help himself either - hah,”

Alessio’s degradation makes you bite your lip. If only for your head to limp when another order meets Jìngyí’s ears and he’s following like an obedient puppy. Rolling over and pulling you onto his lap. His face flushed and eyes glossy but his expression ever as cold when he takes control over you.

His hips snap up in quick succession to his fiance’s command. Making you bounce like a ragdoll on his throbbing cock that forms a ring of cream at the base. The prominent veins thrumming against your gummy walls. Clawed hands dig into your soft thighs and he grunts up at you.

“Th-Thatt’ssss it - that’s it - yeah, th-that’s it pretty boy.”

His grunt strains a whine. You can all but limp into him. Try and fail to keep up with his rough pounds that send ripples through your plush ass.

Through it all you hear a stiffled sound over the call. A grunt followed by a long groan. You can only imagine that Alessio has stained his hand at last. His hips messily bucking into his own palm. But the both of you are well aware of his insatiable libido. So it is no surprise when his voice drips out of the speaker. Low and raspy.

“Put camera on. Wanna see you fuck and cream our slutty boy full.”

𖹭. taglist◞ wanna join the taglist? fill out this form

𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[werecreature-addicted]

i love the idea of a werewolf best friend who is totally in love with you and keeps trying to court you but since you're human you're just thinking he's being thoughtful or something

but he busts every night to the thought of you crying into the pillow, his heavy body pressing onto you and pushing you to the mattress, as he fucks his fat cock into you, trying to knot you and knock you up

want so badly to mark you as his that when he even gets a glimpse of your neck/shoulders he salivates and gets hard

werewolf courting is a subtle thing- really it's more about keeping others away from you than winning you over. you don't see all the sharp glares he sends to other people. or the way he snaps at his other friends for mentioning how cute you look.

he's sweet to you. he gives you bites off his plate. and almost always brings you a drink or snack when you hang out together. he'd be leaving kills on your doorstep but apparently it "freaks out the neighbors" and "you don't know what to do with a whole deer carcass" or whatever. humans are so hard to please. those silly little candies you like can't be very filling but he can't shake the urge to feed you. so he does.

He's also very protective. he always walks/ drives you home at the end of the night. he'll be by your side in an instant if you call for him and god help any idiot who tries to fuck with you.

Also, his home is always open to you. if you ever want to come over randomly or borrow something- what's his is yours. you don't realize how territorial he is with everyone else because he's always so generous and giving with you. especially with clothes!! if you want a sweatshirt or a pair of shorts, they're yours. he loves little things like that to make you smell like him.

To any other werewolf, any one of these things would be a clear indication of romantic interest. I mean- the guy lets you eat off his plate! do you have any idea how territorial wolves are with food? No! Of course, you don't you're human. all of it feels normal to you. there might be other things that you take for flirting that he's doing on accident. but really you think of him as a really good friend.

it's hell on your werewolf. He doesn't know what he's doing wrong. he's a perfect mate for you, but you never seem to acknowledge his flirting as something romantic. he hates it when you stretch your head to the side, baring your neck to him, it's like you're begging to be marked. and by "hates" I do mean it gets his mind spinning. it's like you have no idea how hard it is not to bite you sometimes.

He can't help himself. he will keep going until you accept him because he knows that you're the one for him. so he walks you home for the night then goes back to his place, alone, and lays in bed thinking about you.

at first, it's nothing dirty. he's just wondering what the two of you will do when you hang out next, then he's wondering what you're doing right now. did you take a shower? did you go straight to bed? what do you sleep in when you're all alone? what if you sleep in just your underwear- or naked.

he's hard. he always is when he lets himself think about you too much. he can't help it. so he starts touching himself while he lets his mind wander.

it would feel good to bite your neck. it would feel better to bite the soft sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he wants to mark you while he fucks you. he wants to own you inside and out. he knows you'd take his cock well. it's big but you don't mind, right? you'd like a little pain with your pleasure.

he thinks about all the different positions he could put you in. he thinks about you ridding his cock, about flipping you over and pinning your knees to your chest so he can see your face as he ruins you.

he cums all over himself imagining you screaming- begging him to knot you. he can only hope one day his little fantasy will become a reality.

[slut4monsterz]

Yan!wolfdog hcs ᰔ

yan!wolfdog that practically towers over you, a big burly guy with a thick coat of black fur and huge fluffy ears.

yan!wolfdog that you picked up from your local shelter life was getting kinda boring so why not foster a hybrid?

The shelter informs you that yan!wolfdog probably wouldn't be the best choice. Something about not liking men and having aggression problems...but if you didn't take him who would? The thought of leaving him there all alone made you a bit sad, so even with the staff trying their best to advise you to pick one of the softer, smaller hybrid you walked out with him in hopes of finding him a forever home.

yan!wolfdog who has no intention of ever leaving you once he sets his eyes on you. he decides that day that you're his and he's yours. no human has ever been this nice to him before :(( he basically struts into your house like he owns the place and makes himself comfortable.

yan!wolfdog that refuses to sleep in the very expensive bed you bought him. he just likes yours better. the first few nights you let it slide..but then it becomes a problem. he basically takes up the whole bed!! so you start locking your door at night, he does not like that one bit. he scratches, barks, and whines at the door all night. for days. has a smug little look on his face when you finally give up and open the door, now contemplating buying a bigger bed.

yan!wolfdog that doesn't believe in personal space. he will he snuggled up to you 24/7, def makes you late for work all the time bc he likes to just flop on top of you and refuse to get up

yan!wolfdog that you tried to get used to men, but he absolutely hated it. every time you brought another man over he would bare his teeth and bark like a madman, but then they would leave, and his demeanor would completely flip and he'd be your sweet boy again.

yan!wolfdog that loves going for walks w you = scary dog privileges. people usually avoid you at all costs when you're out in public with him especially because you don't leash him (more like he refuses to wear one and you don't have enough strength to wrestle it on him)

yan!wolfdog who's just the biggest sweetheart ever!! how can you ever get rid of him now?

this turned out to b more fluffy then i wanted might write smth else later :3

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

Can you write abt after care and acts of service jaemin ? I need a cute fluff rn (also i love ur writing so much )

thank you babes!!! hope you enjoy <333

(cw: implications of sex but not explicitly detailed)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Jaemin's arm was looped around your shoulders as you both laid back and tried to catch your breath while staring at the white ceiling of your shared bedroom. The cotton sheets felt fresh against your sweaty back, sheets that had just been freshly washed.

It shouldn't have been as attractive as it was to walk into the bedroom to catch Jaemin fluffing the pillows. It shouldn't have been so attractive to see all the pillows in the exact arrangement you liked them. Jaemin doing the bare minimum, changing the bed sheets, should not have been that attractive. Before you knew it, the sheets were tangled around the both of you in a heated intimate exchange, ruining his work.

Jaemin pressed a kiss to the side of your head, exhaling contently, "you through a wrench in my productive plans for the day. I was about to finish our vacation itinerary. Then I was going to start on dinner for tonight. Now, I just don't feel like leaving your side."

"But tonight is my turn to make dinner," you add while turning on your side to look up at him.

"Well, you did laundry all day and I had this great idea for those potatoes we've had sitting on the counter," he counters while running a slow, gentle hand down your bare spine.

"Jaemin," you drawl out, "I had to do the laundry anyway. Tell me what you have planned and I'll make it. Ok?"

Jaemin groans dramatically while kicking off the sheets and standing from the bed, "let me do something for you! Just this once!"

He grumbles all the way to the bathroom and has an angry pout on his face as he reenters the room with a warm towel to clean you up while you pull his discarded t-shirt over your head. Your head pops through the hole, hair a mess which he lovingly fixes. You keep your eyes locked on him, "you do stuff for me all the time. You changed the sheets, you refill the gas tank in my car, you put my phone to charge, you take over making dinner like 90% of the time. Let me do stuff for you too. I feel like I'm the lazy one in this relationship."

Jaemin's jaw drops in shock, "I do these things because I want to. I like helping you out in any small way I can because I love you. I'm going to love you until I'm wrinkly, old, and gray. You can't get rid of me-- ever. And you're not lazy, you do lots of stuff for me."

You raise your brows at him, asking him to continue, "well, you kiss me whenever I want, you play with my hair when I want you to, you cuddle me to sleep, you get me my favorite snacks when you go to the store even when I don't ask you to. I just like doing things for you because it makes me happy, and more importantly, it makes you happy. You're not lazy because we each have different strengths in this relationship."

"Geez, for a second there I was almost certain my love language was just acts of service but words of affirmation just climbed its way up. You are like the perfect man."

He shrugs with a laugh, "I'm your perfect man. Let me go get started on dinner."

[girlgenius1111]

nerves

sol's masterlist ☀️ 2nd grade shouldn't be as scary as it felt, but sol was quite used to things feeling scarier than they seemed to feel to other people. even if her parents weren't worried for her growing anxiety, though, ingrid was. [sol is 8 in this, and ingrid is 16] warnings: descriptions of anxiety + symptoms of anxiety.

------

Your chest felt tight, tears falling quickly down your face as you sobbed into your pillow. Fear was gripping you, making it so that you couldn’t breathe right. It wasn’t a new feeling, it was one you’d experienced before, though you couldn’t quite put a name to it. You felt sick, sicker when you remembered what the following day was. You’d only been able to get a few hours of sleep before the feeling woke you up, and soon after, you were trembling in your bed, clutching tightly to Snø. 

The feeling was becoming overwhelming, and you were suddenly worried you were going to throw up or stop breathing or something. It was this terrifying thought that had you pushing the covers back, and creeping out of your room. You went down the hall, passed your parents room as quietly as you could, before you pushed Ingrid’s door open. 

“Ing?” You whispered, the low volume of your voice not disguising how shaky it was. The light clicked on, and your sister sat up in her bed, hair all messy. She blinked at you groggily, and you took a tentative step closer. “Ca-can I sleep in here?” 

Your sister seemed to wake more, concern replacing the sleepy expression on her face. “Of course you can.” 

She’d barely gotten the words out before you were scrambling forward onto her bed with her. Ingrid’s arms were already open, and you curled into her, allowing her long arms to wrap around you. This was where you undoubtedly felt safest, and it wasn’t surprising when the bad feeling dulled, just a bit. 

“Solstråle, you’re shaking.” Ingrid murmured, frowning at the quiet whimper you gave in response. “What’s wrong, huh?” She wondered, tucking your head under her chin and rubbing your back. 

You were sniffled, hiding your face in her neck and gripping her shirt in your fist as you snuggled even closer. “‘M Scared.” 

“What are you scared of?” 

Only here, in the dark and curled up against your favorite person, could you admit what was really terrifying you. “Don’t wanna go to school.” 

“School is scaring you?” Ingrid wondered, not knowing you to have struggled with this in the past. 

You nodded, the steady thumping of your sister’s heartbeat in your ear grounding you. 

“Why?” 

A shrug, this time, with you only speaking when Ingrid tried to extract your face from its hiding spot. “Don’t know. Just scared.” 

You really didn’t know. No matter how much you tried to figure out why you were so terrified, nothing came to mind. There was no explanation. All you knew was that this feeling was sticking around, and you’d do just about anything to get rid of it. 

“Is someone at school bothering you?” Ingrid asked, her voice dropping to anger at the mere thought. 

“No.” You weren’t lying. Sure, the kids at school could be mean sometimes, but your biggest bully lived at home with you. You dealt with her every day, and the mean kids couldn’t hold a torch to your mother when she decided she’d had enough of you. The social aspect was a stressor, for sure, but it wasn’t the cause of the pit in your stomach. “It’s… it’s new. It’s different.” 

“It’s not new, not really!” Ingrid tried to rationalize. “It’s the same school, you’ve been there before. You know how everything works. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” 

“It’s still new. A new year and a new teacher and a new class and new people and… I don’t wanna go. I want to stay here. Please.” You looked up at your sister, eyes wide and watery, and her heart truly broke. She hated that you were so upset, and she hated that she didn’t have the power to tell you that you didn’t have to go. 

“School is important, Solstråle. You’ll be okay once you get there, I promise. It’s just the anticipation that’s causing you trouble.” Her voice was encouraging and kind, but you were merely puzzled, the word being unfamiliar to you. 

“What is anticipation?”

“It’s like the waiting before something happens. It’s always worse than whatever actually happens.” 

“What if it’s not better once I get there?” Ingrid was the person you trusted more than anyone in the world, but even she couldn’t put your nervousness to rest with just a few words. It was too intense for that to work. 

“You go to the nurse, and you tell them you don’t feel well, and they’ll call Mamma. She’ll come get you, and we can try again tomorrow.” Ingrid explained rationally, believing herself that you’d be completely fine once you got to school. 

“Mamma won’t come get me.” You murmured. At this point, Ingrid was used to the tension between you and your mother, and she knew that, likely, you were right. “She has a meeting with your manager. Pappa’s taking me in the morning because she’ll be gone all day, and then he’s going to work.” 

Your sister remembered now. She was supposed to pick you up after school, because no one else would be home. When her mother had told her, she’d been a bit sad; it was your first day of school, and neither of your parents seemed to care very much. 

“Then I’ll come get you.” Ingrid promised, making a mental note to cancel the plans she had with various friends, and the lunch date she was supposed to go on. If no one else would be there for you tomorrow, then she would make sure she was.

“Really?” You asked quietly, glancing up at her hopefully, and then looking away quickly, as if your hope would jinx it. 

“Promise. You promise me to try your best to go and stay, and if you don’t feel better by lunch, I’ll come get you.” 

Until lunch was a long time. A whole morning with the icky feeling in your stomach didn’t excite you, but Ingrid was already going out of her way to help, so the least you could do was accept her deal. “Okay. Promise.” 

“Good. Now it’s bedtime, okay?” 

“Kay.” You mumbled, closing your eyes tight to appease your sister, though your tight grip on her shirt didn’t relent. Ingrid turned the lamp back off and settled back under the covers, this time with you held close to her. She hoped that would be the end of it. When she woke the next morning, though, and you were already awake, staring at the ceiling with tears falling from your eyes, she knew it wouldn’t be. 

-------

Your hands were shaking as you brought the little spoon to your lips, and your tummy twisted at the thought of putting food into your mouth. You’d managed a couple mouthfuls of cereal, but suddenly, it felt like another would make you sick that instant. Putting the spoon down, you reached for your glass of water, only your hand was still shaking, and the glass slipped from it, shattering back down onto the table. You jumped, startled. The water quickly ran off the table and down onto your father’s lap, as he swore. You shut your eyes tightly, awaiting the inevitable yelling that was sure to follow. 

“Shit!” Your dad shouted, pushing his chair backwards and rising from his seat. His pants were soaked with water, and you knew he was wearing a new suit for an important meeting he had today. 

“Sorry!” You cried, grabbing a napkin and weakly trying to mop up some of the water. “Sorry, Pappa.” 

“Look what you’ve done!” He shouted, looking down to glare at you, only softening slightly when he saw your tears. 

“It wasn’t on purpose.” You mumbled, shrinking into yourself in your seat. If you’d felt sick before, you felt like you might just curl up into a ball and die now. 

“It doesn’t matter. You need to be more careful. Now I have to change, and you’re going to make both of us late.” Your father scolded, apparently oblivious intense distress. 

“What’s all the yelling for?” Ingrid wondered, walking past her father as he stormed upstairs to change. You were crying silently, cleaning up the water as best you could. You didn’t respond to Ingrid’s question, though your dad did stop and turn to address your sister. 

“Your sister is being clumsy, again. Can you take her to school, Ing? I have a meeting and I’ll be late if I take her.” 

“Yeah, I can.” Ingrid agreed easily, still looking between you both with uncertainty. 

“But… you’re supposed to walk me to my class and help me find my cubby. It’s my first day. Mamma said, you’re supposed to come with me.” You whimpered, your lower lip wobbling. 

“I don’t have time for this.” Your father sighed, turning around and walking out of the room without another word. 

“Pappa,” you called after him, really starting to panic now at the thought of having to manage everything all by yourself. Your Mamma had promised that Pappa would come with and help you get to class. It was the only thing that had stopped the absolute tantrum you’d thrown the day before when she told you she had to go to a meeting instead of taking you. You started to cry, for real now, bringing your hands to your face and instinctually trying to swallow your tears, to no avail. 

Within a few seconds, though, there were hands on yours, pulling them away from your face, and you opened your eyes to see Ingrid kneeled in front of you. Unlike your father, Ingrid was deeply concerned with the way you were acting. It seemed to her to be more than just the regular first day butterflies; you were properly panicking now. 

“Don’t want to go, Ingrid, I can’t do it by myself,” you sobbed, leaning forward until your sister wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into a nice, tight hug. 

“Shh, shh.” She soothed, running her fingers through your hair, noting that your father hadn’t even bothered to put it up into a ponytail like he was supposed to. “You won’t be alone, I’ll take you in. We’ll find your cubby, and meet your teacher, and everything will be fine, Solstråle.” 

Leaning back, you looked at your sister skeptically. “Really?” 

“Of course!” Ingrid said with a smile. She wiped a few tears from your cheeks, and straightened your shirt. Checking the clock, on the counter, she made an executive decision. “Let’s get your face rinsed off, and your hair braided, and then I’ll take you.” 

With your hand in hers, Ingrid brought you to the bathroom, and for the first time that morning, you thought that things might be okay. 

------

You walked into the school like you were heading for your own funeral, trudging along and dragging your feet next to your sister. Ingrid stuck by your side, though, as she’d promised to do, but the time for her to leave came all too soon. Seeing the tears welling in your eyes as the teacher called for everyone to say goodbye to their parents, she took your hand and led you over to the corner of the classroom. She knelt down in front of you, trying to seem relaxed and calm, hoping you could pick up on it. 

“I’m gonna go now, Solstråle, but remember our deal?” 

“I remember.” You mumbled, scrubbing your fist over your eye, desperate not to cry in front of your classmates. 

“Okay. Just try for me, yeah? Until lunch, and if you’re still feeling nervous, go to the nurse and have them call me.” You nodded dutifully, leaning forward for a hug. Ingrid gave you one, squeezing tight. “Just try your best for me. I know you can do it, yeah?” 

“Okay.” You didn’t think you could do it. In fact, you were almost sure you couldn’t, but disappointing your sister wasn’t an option, and surely she’d be disappointed if you didn’t hold up your end of the deal. 

“I love you. I’ll see you soon.” Ingrid said, kissing your forehead and giving your hand one last squeeze. 

“Love you too.” You watched your sister leave, feeling the lump in your throat grow as she headed out the door. You sat back down at your desk, fiddling with your pencil case instead of talking like your classmates were doing. 

Pausing in the door to look back at you, Ingrid had to force herself to continue to walk out of the room. You looked so small, sitting at your desk all by yourself. Too shy to talk to your classmates, having found yourself in a class with none of your friends this year. There was nothing Ingrid hated more than seeing you crying, and she’d have been lying if she said a few tears didn’t slip down her face on her walk back home. 

------

As it was, Ingrid hoped deeply that she wouldn’t get a call from the school. When she did, though, it wasn’t a call that she was expecting, aside from the fact that it was still hours until lunch time. 

 The nurse called your Mamma first. She didn’t answer, and then the nurse called your Pappa. He answered, quickly instructing the woman to call your Mamma again, and then Ingrid if she didn’t answer. He couldn’t come get you, he explained. He didn’t even ask to talk to you on the phone. Not even when he heard what happened. 

It was your worst nightmare come true. The horrible feeling had just grown and grown and grown. You just wanted to go home. That was all you kept thinking, repeating it over and over to yourself. 

Your teacher was going around the room, having each student introduce themselves and say a fun fact. You knew what to say. Your name, and then your fun fact, which was that your favorite color was green. Only, when the teacher called on you, and you opened your mouth, it wasn’t words that came out. 

Instead, you leaned over and threw up all over the ground. The class gasped around you, and a few of the boys began to laugh. You were mortified, sure you’d never been this embarrassed in your entire life. The teacher was trying to quiet the class back down, while walking over to you. Getting sick hadn’t made you feel better, either. You felt just as icky, and even more embarrassed. The assistant teacher led you out of the classroom, your gaze fixed intently on your feet as you were sure everyone was staring at you. 

You’d resigned yourself to silence once you arrived at the nurse’s office, only answering her questions with nods or shakes of your head. If you didn’t talk, you wouldn’t embarrass yourself further. All you could think about, as the nurse called your Mamma and talked to your Pappa, was that you hadn’t done as Ingrid asked, and waited until lunch to go to the nurse. You hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed; you’d tried your best, it just hadn’t been good enough. 

Finally, your Mamma answered, telling the nurse that she couldn’t come get you either, but that your sister could. You breathed a sigh of relief at that, because you knew Ingrid would be the nicest of anyone, even if she was mad that you hadn't made it till lunch. 

Your sister practically ran the few blocks to the school as soon as she hung up with her mother, feeling absolutely horrible for you. She only felt worse when she made it to the school and walked into the front office, seeing you through the doorway, curled up in a chair in the nurse’s office. She couldn’t tell if you were ill or not, but you had a sickbag next to you, and you still looked very pale. Quickly, Ingrid signed you out, before she made her way over to where you were waiting for her. 

And though you were too old for it, the second you saw Ingrid you were launching yourself into her arms, wrapping all of your limbs tight around her body. 

“Oh, liten.” Ingrid sighed. She’d expected you to be upset when your Mamma had called to tell her what had happened, but her expectations didn’t prepare her for how completely broken you seemed. You sobbed quietly into her neck, holding on so tightly she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get you to let her go.

“I think we might have a case of nerves on our hands. She doesn’t have a fever, or any other symptoms, and her teacher said she seemed very teary all morning until she was sick.”

At the reminder of what happened, you cried harder. Ingrid shushed you gently, her hand soothingly circling your back. The nurse continued, a sympathetic expression on her face. “I tried to explain to your mother, but as soon as I said I thought it was nerves, she didn’t seem to be very worried.” 

“And we should be worried?” Ingrid wondered, sounding much older and much more concerned than a 16 year old should sound. Exactly how worried the nurse had expected your mom to sound, though she’d been disappointed. 

The nurse nodded. “This is more nervous than an 8 year old should be for school. I think having your sister evaluated might be a good idea. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but anxiety can be hard for a child to deal with if they don’t have the tools to do so.” 

Ingrid agreed, internally, but knew it would be a challenge to get your Mamma on board with it. When it came to you, Mamma always seemed to be doubtful of the truth of any issue you might have. If it had been Ingrid, the older girl knew she’d have had the first available appointment with the best psychologist in town. But because it was you, and Mamma seemed to have so much less patience with you, Ingrid knew it would be a challenge to convince her there was a real issue here. 

“Ing?” You whispered, still attached firmly to your sister. She hummed in response, leaving a kiss on your temple. “I wanna go home.” 

“Let’s go home, Solstråle.” Ingrid agreed, moving as if to release you and stand up. You were having none of that, though, and Ingrid smiled despite herself, lifting your small body easily into her arms. You couldn’t bring yourself to care if your classmates saw you, if your teachers saw you, being carried by your sister out of the school building. 

Although school was only a few minutes walk away from home, you could feel the icky feeling coming back as you got closer and closer. Your Mamma was going to be so mad at you for not making it through the whole day, you just knew it. She was going to be mad, and yell, and Pappa was still going to be mad about when you spilled on him, and he was going to yell too, and home didn’t feel like the place you wanted to go anymore, though you’d been wishing for it all morning.

You knew it was going to happen again, this time trying to give your sister some warning. 

“Ingrid,” you whined, trying to breathe deeply in through your nose and out through your mouth, coming to a complete stop on the sidewalk only a block away from home. “Feel sick.” 

Your sister looked down at you in alarm, your face alarmingly pale as your lips pressed together tightly. 

As quickly as she could, Ingrid grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards the grass. 

You retched onto the ground, though there wasn’t much to come up other than bile that burned at your throat. You were crying again as Ingrid rubbed your back, handing you your water bottle when you were done. “Sorry.” You managed in between small sips, feeling guilty for probably embarrassing your sister by throwing up on the street. 

“Don’t say sorry.” Ingrd frowned. “Maybe you are sick, huh?” She brought her hand up to your forehead, not finding it any warmer than normal. You shrugged, not sure how to convey your fears. Ingrid seemed to pick up on your unease, though. “Are you still nervous?” 

You gave a small nod, slumping into your sister when she stood and pulled you in for a hug. 

“Why? We’re going home.” 

“Mamma and Pappa are going to be mad. About school and about spilling the water and for interrupting their meetings when the nurse called, and making you come get me and-” 

“Slow down, slow down.” Ingrid told you calmly, crouching down once again on the sidewalk, uncaring that several people had had to cross the street to avoid your traffic jam. “No one’s mad, Solstråle, you didn’t do anything wrong. Mamma’s coming home from the meeting early to check on you, she just wants to make sure you’re okay.” 

“She’s not mad?”

“No.” Ingrid promised. “We’re gonna go home, get comfy on the couch, watch a movie, and wait for Mamma. And then we’ll figure out how to make you feel better, okay?” 

You liked that. The ‘we’ Ingrid used. Sometimes it felt like you could do anything if she was with you. Privately, you hoped that you’d never have to do much without her. Ingrid was your very best friend, and best friends were supposed to stay together. 

She was with you when you walked home, did exactly as she promised and got all bundled up with you on the sofa and put on your favorite movie. She was with you when your Mamma came home, who fussed over you right away, only scolding you lightly for working yourself up so much that you were sick. 

It felt nice to be cared for by your Mamma, even if she seemed a little exasperated with you. Really, when was she not? After that comment, though, Ingrid decided to wait to talk to your parents until you were in bed. She was more sure than ever that getting you the help you needed would take a lot of convincing, and she didn't want you to have to hear her argue with your parents on your behalf. 

The raised voices coming from downstairs woke you, however, only a short time after you’d been put to bed. Intrigued, you’d followed the voices, freezing when you overheard your name. 

Sat on the top step of the stairs, you listened as Ingrid talked to your parents. Your head was swirling with contradicting and confusing emotions. On one hand, it felt good to hear Ingrid stand up for you. On the other, though, it felt like a punch to the gut everytime one of your parents said something that completely dismissed the issues you were having. 

“She is just nervous, Ingrid, don’t stress about it. All kids get like this, she’ll be alright.” Your mother sighed, annoyed with having to repeat herself; Ingrid just wouldn’t let up. 

“No Mamma. It is not normal! You didn’t see her last night when she came to me having a panic attack, and you didn’t see her today when I went to get her from school. She needs help, this isn’t fair on her. She shouldn’t have to struggle with this.” 

“Ingrid, there is nothing wrong with your sister. She just likes the attention.” Your father cut in, repeating something he’d heard his wife say over and over whenever you got into arguments with her, and ran off to him in tears. 

At the same time that tears began to well in your eyes, Ingrid snapped, her voice raising. “Quit saying that! It’s not true. She’s shy, she doesn’t like attention, and she certainly didn’t want the attention of her classmates while she was getting sick in front of them. Mamma, please. She needs help.” 

You could imagine your parents exchanging looks with each other, a silent conversation being had. 

“Alright. We’ll take her to see someone, if only so you stop stressing yourself out about this. I don’t want you to worry about your sister, Ingrid. She’s fine, we’ve got her. You need to focus on football.” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes. She’d never put football over you, never. It was her passion, her favorite thing, and while it messed with her social life and made things complicated, she would never let it tear her from you. Not when you needed her. 

“I will stop worrying when a doctor tells you that there is no problem.” 

“We’ll take her, Ingrid, I promise. Everything will be fine, your sister will be fine. If she needs help, we’ll get it for her.” 

You wondered if they were doing it for you, or if they were doing it for Ingrid. Like everything, like always, it was probably just for Ingrid. You were used to that; being less important than your sister. And as much as you wanted to be angry with your sister, you just couldn’t. Not when she was the only one who did things for you. 

Once, Ingrid had promised that she’d always be on your side. So, while you weren’t sure your parents would ever be on your side, or if they ever had been, you knew you could count on Ingrid. No matter where she went, no matter what you did, Ingrid would always have your back. She’d promised, after all. 

------

it's been a while! hope everyone hasn't minded the long wait, and enjoyed this sol installment 🫶🏻 she really is my favorite to write for.

[tell me if you see typos okay byeeee]

[sinofwriting]

All Relaxed - Jenson Button/Reader/Logan Sargeant

Words: 1,698 Summary: Jenson sees how stressed Logan and his girlfriend are and just wants to get rid of it for them. Note(s): Slightly NSFW, Dom/Sub Relationship/Dynamics. Dom!Jenson, Sub!Logan, Sub!Reader. Don’t be like them and approach a brand new dom/sub relationship like this, I beg of you. Also, no one ask how this ship popped into my head, I can’t be held accountable for my thoughts.

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Jenson watches as both Logan and Y/N practically stumble into where the fan stage would be happening. You’d think they had just woken up, but he can tell that still sleep is invading them. The circles under their eyes have worsened and his worry grows when he notices them both shake their head at food being offered. The same thing they did yesterday as well.

He more than knew how rough Formula 1 could be and that was before they made the calendar twenty-four races long. But he never had been that exhausted. Some of it was without a doubt the treatment of Williams affecting him and Jenson had tried alleviating that, trying to somewhat step into the mentor role, but it was obvious that he wasn’t doing enough.

And poor Y/N had broken down in his arms the last time they saw each other about everything going on with her family and school.

He wants to fix it. To see them without any worries, to see them relaxed. All loose limbs, no tension, eye bags and circles gone. He’d like to see them not look so gaunt as well. He’s sure Elias is fine, but it’s obvious he doesn’t know Logan. Benny would have straightened Logan’s current less than stellar eating habits in a few days and Jenson knows it’s been at least a month of Logan barely eating anything unless it’s one of his premade meals.

It’s the thought of wanting to see them all relaxed that has him begin to plot. It would be far too easy to invite them to his house in California. Undisturbed, no close enough neighbors to really bother them, not that he planned on really having them leave the house. If anyone spotted them it would be the end of a peaceful trip. And he knows that they are both free for the next two weeks. He had heard Logan mention it just the day before.

He starts making a list of groceries that need to be ordered, then he makes an email to a friend who owns a private jet and owes him a favor. He texts his housekeeper, asking if she wouldn’t mind going to his house today if she has time and straightening up the place.

As he starts to order the groceries, his attention is drawn away by the sound of a breathless sort of sigh. His eyebrows quirk up when he notices that it was her and he follows her eyes and fully understands, his throat going a little dry.

Logan had been put into a tight-fitting team shirt, something either tailored to him or knowing Williams and their budget they had just given him a smaller size and it looked good on him. The thin fabric clinging to every muscle and inch of his upper half. Jenson hadn’t realized that Logan had gained that much muscle since last year, even despite not eating it seemed he was keeping it well.

He watches as Logan smiles at him before looking at his girlfriend, sending her a small wink and Jenson can’t help but look at her, see how she reacts, and he shifts in his seat seeing the grin on her face, the way her shoulders have slightly relaxed.

What he wouldn’t give to see them both all relaxed for him, laying flat on their backs in his bed, letting him take care of them. He nearly drops his phone as the thought strikes him. Fuck.

—

Jenson watches amused as they walk around his house. Perhaps it was stupid to still invite them to his house after realizing he wanted them both in his bed. But he couldn’t continue to let them go about running on fumes.

“You guys go get settled, take a nap, rest, and I’ll cook dinner.”

“Let me help, Jenson.”

He shakes his head at her offer, “I’ve got it, sweetheart. I’ll come and get you both when it’s all ready.”

She looks ready to protest again, Logan as well, but he gives them both a stern look, and a simmer of arousal hits him as they both immediately start walking to the guest bedroom with quiet thank you’s. This might end up being a bit harder than he thought.

It does end up being harder than he thought, a lot harder in fact. It seems him realizing he didn’t just find them both attractive but also just plain and simple liked them had opened the floodgates. And their responses to him taking care of them was certainly not helping either.

It was only the third day of them being here but Jenson was sure he was going to cause a bit of an issue with the water with how many cold showers he might end up taking. His satisfaction of them letting him take care of them instantly turned to arousal.

That same day however after dinner as they laze about in the living room while he cleans up the dishes he realizes that they might feel the same way. They can’t stop looking at him. At first, he thought maybe they wanted something but were too shy to say something but when he looked over, they both looked away, clearly flustered at being caught and when he went back to cleaning up, their eyes were on him again, lingering.

It’s confirmation, but he doesn’t plan on doing anything about it, not until hours later as he does his rounds in the house, making sure everything is locked up and he passes their room and he hears them both.

The light sound of skin coming together, small whines and breaths that are more like gasps. His hand palms himself before he can stop it and then he hears it. His name. He freezes, thinking he must have misheard, but then he hears it again, the both of them moaning his name.

He barely makes it to his bedroom, back against the door as he presses his hand into his bottoms and jerks himself off, finishing quickly and making a mess of his sweatpants.

Jenson of course brings it up the next morning. The two are so flustered that even if he hadn’t heard he could guess that something happened.

“Good sleep?” He starts off with, hiding his smirk by taking a drink of coffee.

They both nod, shoulders tensing a little and that has him frowning, setting his mug down. He just started making progress on their tension. “You both sounded lovely.”

Logan’s head snaps up, eyes wide as he looks at him while she gasps, hands coming up to cover her face.

His eyes flicker between the both of them. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you both say my name like that again. Maybe with the visuals as well.”

She makes a squeaky noise at his words and Logan’s cheeks have managed to turn more pink.

“And just to be clear, I wouldn’t want it to be a one time thing, or just sex.”

“But, you want the both of us? I mean more with the both of us?”

Jenson smiles gently at Logan’s nervousness. “Yes, the both of you. I want to take care of you two. And sex doesn’t have to be on the table, I’ll still happily do it without anything sexual, but I figured I’d put it on the table.”

Logan looks a little confused but before Jenson can say anything else, she’s giving a slight tug to Logan’s shirt.

“He’s offering to be our dom.” Her voice is quiet, the words clearly meant for Logan, but her eyes flicker over to him as well.

The American’s eyes widened. “Oh. I, we’ve never,”

“Done this before?”

They both shake their heads.

“I sort of figured. It’s not something I’ve done lots of either to be clear and never on this level. The last time I dommed was years ago and it was just sex. What I would like with us would be more than sex if we even agree to have sex be a part of it at all or to do this.”

“Why do you want to?”

Jenson smiles at her question. “I like you both and want to take care of you. You’re both stressed, spiraling. Barely sleeping or eating. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears with how much tension you both are carrying. I want to ease that, take everything off your shoulders, make it better or rather easier to deal with.”

“And you like taking care of people.”

“Not everyone.” He corrects. “I’m a bit too selfish for that, but certain people,” and his eyes flicker between them. “Absolutely.”

It’s not a very long talk, not as detailed as it should be. But he promises himself that he will sit down with them tomorrow to talk everything out, but they’ve got the basics down. They all are interested in the sexual and in private, like Jenson’s home, are happy to be submissive but don’t want it to bleed into their work/student life as much as they can. He makes sure they know to tell him no. He doesn’t foresee himself pressing too hard about taking breaks and such that it would make their work and student life suffer, but it’s always a possibility and he is far from perfect.

And now not even two hours after waking up he’s got them both in his bed and he can’t help the slight amusement he feels seeing them both wearing Logan’s boxer briefs, he’ll have to see about getting them in his next time. His amusement doesn’t last long however as he takes them in, both laying flat on their backs, upper halves completely bare, both stunning.

“Gorgeous.” He murmurs, sitting at the end of the bed and pressing a kiss to Logan’s calf and then hers. “Both of you look gorgeous for me.”

Her breath audibly stutters, while Logan lets out a keen, fingers twisting in the sheets.

He tuts at the tight grip, running his fingers over the younger man’s until he loosens it. “That’s better. Let’s get you both all relaxed for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Jenson.” They say together and his cock twitches. Fuck is he lucky.