#but i still am seen and treated as a women by strangers i guess

[littlestprince]

getting crossed on a tuesday eating a peanut butter honey sandwich all comfy in my bed and watching youtube <3

[starlightrosari]

Gender struggles from childhood to now (22)

I don’t look like the other girls

I don’t get along with other girls

I get along better with boys

I want to be one of the guys

I wish I looked more like a boy

I don’t feel I belong in women’s spaces

I feel uncomfortable with female gender expectations and experiences

I feel jealous of how my friends who are boys are developing into their bodies

I feel uncomfortable with my genitalia

I feel uncomfortable with my body

I want to look more androgynous

I hate my body

I don’t mind my name, but it feels too feminine. It’s okay on other people, but I’d prefer a nickname for myself

The first nickname was cool, but still felt too feminine. This new nickname sounds really androgynous though, it feels good being called it

I feel like a tomboy

Am I transgender?

Do I have internalized misogyny from having mostly male friends?

I wish I could get along with women so I was treated equally

I just feel small and infantilized, I have to dress more mature and womanly and then I’ll love my body

I’m depressed and dissociated from myself because of people pleasing and trying to fit in with heteronormative people

Who am I?

I’m just a lesbian having a hard time with my sexuality, that’s why I have these body issues and gender issues. And I just don’t know who I am because of depression and trauma

I stopped being called my birth name entirely. I guess family can still call me it even if it feels weird, but it feels good being called “Ari” at my college and by my friends

I stopped people pleasing

I feel better now that I’m dressing masculine

I feel better now that I’m not being called pretty all the time

Maybe I actually am trans?

I kind of like they/them pronouns

Maybe not, I’m okay with my body now and people think nonbinary isn’t real. This is too complicated

I still feel uncomfortable calling myself or being called a woman though

I don’t want to base my identity off the misogyny I deal with anymore, I feel most comfortable calling myself nonbinary for now, and it’s okay if it’s a phase, I just need to explore how I’m feeling

I don’t like using she/her pronouns

I’m terrified to come out to people, maybe I should just tell them I use she/they pronouns so it’s not as big of a deal

I came out to people, but now I feel like I shouldn’t have given them “she” as an option at all

I still wish I were more like a boy, but I don’t think I have gender dysphoria

I’m so envious of my favorite fictional boy characters, I want to cry, I’m nothing like them

I wish when I were out at night I didn’t look like such a girl. I want to look like the beautiful men and androgynous people I see. I want to cry, I hate my body sometimes

Actually I do have gender dysphoria and always have

I wish I were able to be androgynous in the way men can be

I feel uncomfortable being viewed as the feminine bodied person in a relationship. In fantasies I’m always masculine

I feel dysphoric every time I lump myself as sapphic, but maybe it’s just internalized lesbophobia?

No, I prefer calling myself queer. Just because identifying as lesbian stopped me from being cis/heteronormative and was an important part of finding my true self, doesn’t mean I have to keep identifying as it. Still don’t know if I’m attracted to men though

Actually I was attracted to men all along, I just wished I were viewed by strangers as an mlm couple and hated the idea of being viewed as a straight relationship. It was easy to mistake as being lesbian because it at least felt better being seen as a queer woman than a straight girl, so I avoided that possibility altogether by refusing that I was attracted to men because it felt too dysphoric to imagine

I often get really depressed being misgendered, and I feel really detached from myself most days. I don’t want to keep feeling this way

I definitely don’t feel good being called feminine terms or dressing feminine, trying to be more of a girl didn’t make me feel better about myself, I’m absolutely trans and don’t have to doubt myself anymore

I don’t feel dysphoric calling myself nonbinary and neutral language, but I don’t feel euphoric either. How do I identify and what do I do about my dysphoria?

Do I want to transition? It’s so confusing and scary, I wish I were binary trans so I wasn’t so afraid of the irreversible changes

Weighing out changes of the body on T and pros and cons of being off or on T, I’m definitely feeling like some of the changes would make me really euphoric compared to being without it

I actually kind of like calling myself masculine terms. I don’t feel like a man, but maybe I’m a demiboy?

I wanted an androgynous body when I was very young, and I still want one now. I was gaslit by cis people that how I felt about my body was just insecurity, when it was in fact gender dysphoria. I want to transition to a body that feels like me

I like he/him pronouns and feel affirmed being called masculine terms. I’m going to use he/they pronouns and I identify as a nonbinary boy

I’m terrified of having to deal with transmasculine erasure and transphobia coming out, but I can’t keep staying in the closet. It hurts too much. I need to come out

[icaruskey]

"Talking about trans men "playing up the F in AFAB" to access women spaces. Please someone send me an ask about this specifically so I have an excuse to go off tomorrow after work."

Fourth time's the charm right?

And I gotta disclaim that I'm one of them transes who sees his past self as the gender he thought he was. Little 11 year old me? Girl. I was a girl up to the point I wasn't and I don't really know where that line is. Somewhere between 19 and 25. But I do call myself AFAB and I do see a lot of my experiences as a child and teen as being both through the lenses of womanhood and closeted/subconscious transness.

So needless to say I'm a little biased and get a little angry when this argument that trans masculine people are trying to play up the F in their AGAB up.

First and foremost, the biggest push away from AGAB language I've seen is from nonbinary and trans masculine folks. So let's jot that down (again though, I have consciously put myself into spaces that allow me to hear these voices over trans feminine voices after nearly a decade of the reverse).

And there's the fact that trans people who present with traditionally "female" reproductive and secondary sex characteristics are typically more vulnerable in men only spaces... we gotta be realistic here. People who look like women are going to be treated like women by strangers and while I'm a firm advocate for not treating all men like dirt... well. We have statistics.

And that's even if there are men spaces... shit like shelters for domestic violence victims oh so rarely allow men in the first place.

Plus, let's not forget a lot of this "playing up the F in AFAB" talk is coming around during the repeal of Roe v Wade in the US, which brought up the discussion of reproductive healthcare and abortion access back into international center stage. We're supposedly leaning on our AGAB by pointing out that We! Need! Healthcare! And our healthcare needs generally line up with those seen as women's only.

A totally stealth trans man who is being denied reproductive healthcare because he's legally a man is going to have to lean on his AGAB to get a checkup with the ObGyn. Otherwise they're not going to see him... because he doesn't look like a woman to him. Sometimes, using your AGAB is necessary, if only because the largely cishet world doesn't get that sometimes women have dicks and men have vaginas, and there are some people who want both or neither.

Finally, and I guess this just irritates me the most because of the above mentioned bias... saying trans masculine and nonbinary folks are playing up their AGAB is outright denying the way so many of us grew up. I was raised as a girl. I was seen as a girl. I had expectations put on me that only women in my small part of Southern Baptist culture would have. I had a promise ring. I memorized the Proverbs 31 wife list. I had nightmares of my wedding night, and I was made fun of and belittled by my own mother for not liking makeup and not taking care of my appearance. My lack of sexual harassment, despite it being a super common thing for girls and women, still has me mentally fucked up despite now identifying mostly male.

I'm not playing up my AGAB by talking about these experiences and saying that I've experienced misogyny because of how I am seen. Claiming the trauma and benefits of womanhood when I saw myself as a girl and when the world sees me as a woman (as it oh so overwhelmingly does currently) is not me trying to play up my AGAB for victimhood points or to access women's only spaces.

Yes, there are trans men, masculine folks, and nonbinary people who were AFAB and currently enter women's spaces where AMAB folks aren't allowed. If I wasn't aware of them before, I certainly am after getting through the first few chapters of Whipping Girl because Julia Serano does not shut up about it. She's clearly salty despite pretending not to be.

But guess what! There's shitty trans women and trans feminine people out there too! Baeddels! TIRFs! The fact that there's shitty trans people like Buck Angel or Caitlyn Jenner is just because they're people! Who happen to be trans! And people will absolutely use whatever they can as leverage to be shitty! That's why there are gay and black Republicans. They leveraged their minority status to become figures in a group that hates them. Shocking.

But for fuck's sake, saying trans men, masculine, and nonbinary folks who happened to be AFAB are trying to express their victimhood through the F in their AGAB both reeks of ROGD as well as a clear yellow flag that maybe

just maybe

these people are trying to find the language to talk about the problems they're facing but people like Serano aren't letting them.

[thekimspoblog]

September, 2029.

*Iris playing video games*

*Jimmy sits down on the couch next to them*

Jimmy: Hey, it's a beautiful Saturday. Let's go do something. I found this place on the Delaware river where you can rent everything, even the fishing poles.

Iris: You want to go fishing?

Jimmy: I dunno. You said sometimes you felt more like a son than a daughter. This is me trying to do the father-son bonding thing. Am I doing it wrong?

Iris: You know what? I'd love to. Sounds fun.

----------

Supply Rental Cashier: Ok Mr. Polastri. You're gonna go down to the banks, between the rowboats and the kayaks. The safety instructor is going to give you a brief orientation about the life jackets and whatnot. Then you and your granddaughter can shove off!

Iris: Hey! That's my dad! (These kinds of misunderstandings were never not embarrassing)

Supply Rental Cashier: Sorry. In any case, enjoy your trip.

_________

Jimmy: Alright now I know you might be a little squeamish using live bait. But you know worms actually have nine hearts. And it's debated whether they even can feel pain in the same way that we-

*Iris stabs the hook clean through the worm perfect on the first try*

Jimmy: Oh look, you got it. Actually, can you do mine? Mine's off-center and it looks like it's already starting to wriggle off the hook. To be honest, I closed my eyes doing it.

___________

Jimmy: So I don't want to be over simplistic about it, but I have to ask. What does this mean in terms of... you know... bringing someone home? I mean girls? Boys? You're almost twelve; I assume you have some idea of who you like by now.

Iris: I dunno. There are some pretty girls I've noticed I guess... What's that look for?

Jimmy: I'm a little relieved, is all. If you had a girlfriend, I'd have advice on how to treat her. If you were my daughter and you had a boyfriend, I'd have advice on how he should be treating you. But two boys? I'm not homophobic or anything; I'd just be out of my depths. I've always gotten along better with women. All the relationships I've had with other men were...

*Jimmy trails off, laughing darkly*

Iris: Dad, I'm still figuring out what gender I am. Let alone whether I'm "gay" whatever that would mean in this context. And besides, I've got too much on my mind right now. Too many things I want to do with my life. Love would just feel like a distraction.

Jimmy: Yeah this is definitely a conversation you should be having with your mom.

Iris: *Loud sigh* You should have seen the look on her face when I came out to her.

Jimmy: You're more alike than you might think.

Iris: I can just tell she doesn't believe me.

Jimmy: Well she has less experience than I do dealing with freaks. And I mean that as a compliment! But seriously, I'd be lying if I said I fully understood it either. But I'm adding a 'yet' to that statement. I'm not a grammar nazi; you want to say 'they/them' is a singular pronoun, who am I to argue? I promise, your mother might not get her head around it, but she'll respect the ground rules you lay down. I think she's just scared. No matter how you look, I think she'd want to tell you not to walk the streets after dark, and to keep your hand over your drink when talking to strangers.

Iris: Her neuroticism is going to crush me.

Jimmy: She's not wrong though.

(Silence)

Jimmy: Come to think of it, I did have one male friend. I've told you about Marco, right?

*Iris nods*

Iris: I've always liked that ring. Can I have it? I mean... when I go off to college or something?

*Jimmy looks off into the sunset pensively, then begins to take the pinky ring off*

Jimmy: Hell, you can have it right now.

______________

*Both admiring the boney minnow they caught*

Iris: Those pole rentals are a rip-off. Next time, we should just buy our own.

Jimmy: You mean it?

Iris: Why did you wait for me to be tomboy before you thought to try this?

Jimmy: If you haven't noticed, I try to avoid the great outdoors whenever possible.

@richeeduvie @2entangledworms @mcwexlerscigarette

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

That's so weird because my reaction to S4 finale is it was the moment that convinced me Buddie was going to be endgame. Now two seasons later and we could be heading back to that same ending for the season depending on the events of the finale leaves me doubting things ngl. The only things I'm clinging on to are the couch theory, Eddie saying that relationships with people you meet at a rescue never works, and the fact that we're being introduced to these women so late in the season. It just seems like the writers even know they're giving this the most superficial things so that they can fix what they did in early S7.

To put it bluntly it just sucks that you know if this was gonna be the final 2 episodes that instead of going towards a story they've been telling since S2 they decide to put Buck and Eddie with women we don't even know their last name or anything about them. But they got renewed and will be moving to ABC so they can do the story they wanted to tell and I imagine these women will be kicked to the curb early in S7.

Okay, I'm gonna be real honest with you. I've seen that you've sent asks to a few of my friends, all generally saying the same thing. So to see you send me this ask makes me feel like you don't really want to have a discussion and aren't looking for actual support or positivity, you just want to keep being upset and tell people until someone agrees with you and tells you that your opinion that the writers made a shitty choice etc is valid.

So, to repeat a few things my friends have said:

They have not been doing Buddie since season two. I don't know why people persist on claiming this. Buddie was never the original plan. They did not decide to have Eddie get with Buck in season two. In fact in season two they seemed kinda unsure what to do with Eddie since he wouldn't be with Maddie any longer, but they still wanted the character, and Ryan, on the show. For my money, they started exploring the possibility of Buddie and discussing it seriously in season three, and season four was when they locked that in.

Now, I don't know about you, since you're a stranger on the internet, but to me, as a writer, it is a much, much better choice for them to have taken the risk rather than cram Buddie together, for a few reasons.

One: They cannot walk it back once Buddie is together. You're telling me you wanted them to sacrifice their story's integrity to give us a rushed unsatisfying get-together? Get out of my house. Watching television is, inherently, a gamble because it means you might get your stories unfulfilled. If you can't take that risk, then leave the casino. I am willing to risk it because I want a truly satisfying get-together, not something that was rushed and therefore isn't worthy of the delicious slow burn they're building.

Two: How many times do I have to scream at everyone to consider the behind the scenes issues before people start actually listening to me? Oh, forever? Because everyone is operating in bad faith and nobody wants to actually listen? Good to know. This will be the last I say on the matter.

We do not know what behind the scenes was going on in addition to the cancellation. What if certain Fox executives weren't supportive of Buddie? You're telling me that the writers and cast and crew should have, right when they'll need new jobs, guaranteed that their last employers will talk shit about them for disobeying orders and putting two characters together that they were told not to put together?

This is purely conjecture on my part, but I have seen time after time in fandom certain cast members and certain crew members and certain writers want a ship to become canon, and others not, and I have seen the way that back and forth played out, and guess fucking what? NOBODY WANTS TO LOSE THEIR FUCKING JOB. NOBODY WANTS TO BE PREVENTED FROM HAVING ANOTHER JOB.

Now, again, that's pure conjecture, but Fox really hasn't treated OG well for a while in terms of renewal, marketing, etc. And I have never, EVER, seen a show snapped up by another network so quickly. It's always "we got cancelled!" and then a few days or weeks later it's "we were saved by another network!" ABC was ON it. This gives me hope for a lot of things, like perhaps a 22 episode season. But given Fox's lack of promotion and appreciation for OG, it wouldn't surprise me if the cast and crew wanted Buddie and some people in the network didn't, and that is why we've been delayed on Buddie going canon. And while YOU may cry viva la revolution, it's much easier to have your principles when you've got a belly full, and while it may suck creatively there is no reason to piss off your bosses right when you need them to write you a recommendation for a new job because your show got cancelled - and while I'm sure they were hopeful, given the cast's social media I do not think anyone knew until it was publicly announced that they had, indeed, been saved and gotten another season.

My point is, this is just one theory I'm pulling out of a hat like a rabbit. We do not know what other BTS stuff is going on that made them choose to delay Buddie until season seven.

Three: To go back to point one, I do not think you've seen the reactions when a ship goes canon poorly. I was there, Gandalf. I was there the day that Booth and Bones got together. I was in the trenches. It soured SO many people, including me, on the show. To quote MBMBAM: YOU DIDN'T STICK THE LANDING! YOU JUST FLIPPED IN THE AIR FOR TWENTY MINUTES!!!

Sticking the landing when getting a ship together is possibly the most important moment in the couple's story. You cannot fuck up that landing. The writers chose to take the chance on it never happening in order to stick the landing the way they wanted. If that pisses you off, FINE. But stop coming into our inboxes to say the same thing over and over again about it, because we do not agree and we are never going to agree. We are at an impasse.

Now, to move onto some other points, WHY IS EVERYONE CONVINCED THAT EDDIE WILL STILL BE WITH SOMEONE WHEN THE SEASON ENDS!? WHEN DID WE DECIDE THIS!? He could be! But holy shit he could just go on one date with her that fizzles out! We have no clue! If someone in this fandom can see into the future and knows for sure this is going to happen then give me the winning lotto numbers right this second!!! Give them to me!!!! I need to fund my world domination campaign!!!

And finally, I feel like you've answered your own concerns, here. Given that you have sent similar asks to my friends, I don't think you're actually interested in allaying those concerns, because you keep answering your own questions and repeating yourself ad naseum. I could be wrong. Again, I don't know you. But this sure seems to be the case given that you're saying to me similar stuff you've said to my friends in asks they've already answered.

But to look at your own ask, you just said why we shouldn't be worried. "It seems like the writers even know..." YES. YES, THEY DO KNOW. I would love to know who the hell decided that television shows are made by the Television Fairy who creeps into the studio at night and waves her magic wand to create all the good stuff we see on our screens while the writers sit around with their thumbs up their asses.

Let's imagine you are a showrunner and you are going into the second half of your season, and you learn that it is extremely likely this season is actually your last. You guys start negotiating quietly with other networks to move the show, while hoping against hope this is not, indeed, the end. But this means you now have, what, nine episodes? To put all your characters in a place that is, if not ideal, at least somewhat positive for your audience?

You can't start any too-major arcs. You can't end on too bad of an emotional cliffhanger. This means some things will wrap up faster. Other things will get pushed forward. And some things have to be delayed, because they might never happen, and you can't give people a third or a half of an arc. Which means that you're going to be throwing in some filler for those characters instead, and doing things differently than how you might have wanted.

I do not know how many times I have to explain this, but television is not fanfiction. When I sit down to write a fic, there's not a damn person in the world who can tell me what to do. I write the story that I want, and if someone doesn't like it, they can hit the bricks.

Television is not like that. Television is one of the biggest group projects there is. Picture the worst group project you had to do in school and then times it by ten. Welcome to the television and film industry. The fact that any film or show, even the truly awful ones, gets made is nothing short of a miracle given all the people involved and all the ways the ball can be dropped. As a show runner, you are answering to multiple executives, to the creators, to the executive producers, to your own writers' room, and to the fans. You are trying to balance what everyone tells you to do, what the fans want you to do, and what you and your (hopefully trusted) writing team want and plan to do. I could never be a show runner and while there are quite a few with whom I've got bones to pick, I cannot deny that they all do a job I would never, ever be capable of pulling off. I'd quit on day three.

So, yeah, they gave Buck a temporary girlfriend as filler, to kinda cap off his current arc if this was the end, or to provide more layers to his full arc if they got another season. If you don't like that, then that's okay. Nobody is telling you to like it. When you come into someone's inbox like this, the assumption is that you're looking to be reassured, and so that's why you're getting the responses that you are. The previous people who've answered you have been trying to reassure you and allay the concerns you seem to have.

But it seems to me like you want a more full conversation, and possibly, that you just want to rant and vent. That's fine, but find a friend for that. Join a discord server. Because when you send the same stuff over and over again to different people, all of whom give you basically the same reply, it just makes you look like a very obstinate stick in the mud who wants everyone else to join them in being upset, and people don't much like having the same conversation multiple times, or being pushed into being upset when they're not.

You might just have to agree to disagree, and move on. Find other ways to get this out of your system, because my inbox, and the inboxes of others, is not the place for your venting in circles.

Now, in spite of my firm tone, I hope you will believe me when I say that I hope you're taking care of yourself, and that you are staying safe in this scary world, and that you have a good rest of your day.

[bythenineshards]

Omg what was up with that Feysand stan on ur post????? ITS JUST A THEORY. (Not to mention a MUCH better pairing) and lol if Feysand was always endgame why in the fck does Rhysie SA Feyre??? Did Sjm do that to build sexual tension (cause Feyre says in Acomaf she had "wanted him even then") AND THAT'S INFINITELY WORSE!!

Lmao they tried to fire up on one of my posts too and I immediately blocked them. Seen them one too many times fighting about posts that's none of their business. Like life is so empty u need to fight with strangers on the internet to feel something. I am literally so mad not them saying Tamlin Apologists deserve to be bullied?!?!? For liking a fictional character????!!

I took personal offence to that

Ha! See! I told you I would respond today. I totally didn't get sucked into Skyrim and my writing and nearly forgot.

Idk what their problem was. They blocked me like the first week I was on here so I didn't think much of them. I knew about them because there would be discourse on posts and an invisible opponent. So I guess they unblocked me to stir shit and idk, get more traffic to their blog? They rebranded with a name that is clearly meant to draw in Antis of Feysand. I think they're like 15 and so I guess they're in their "I'm edgy look at me phase" where they want to pick fights because they think they're always right and special. I'm so glad I didn't grow up with my cringe behavior on the internet.This is why we don't sell erotica or "dark romance" to children. They can't handle speculation or discussions. I bet they cry over Marvel's What If... series because it's not Canon. Like... the post that had them all fired up was speculation about something we have receipts for. And a lot of people liked the idea. All they do is make the books look worse.

And the way they talk about Feyre vs. Nesta is like they think they're written by two different people. This isn't Harry Potter (fuck you Rowling) vs. Twilight (fuck you Meyers). I don't think Feyre gets a free pass to transform into a person of another race just cuz Nesta and Gwyn modelled their stuff after the Valkyries. I think both are bad and icky because the same author wrote both and clearly doesn't see how offensive that could be. I do, however, think that there's a difference between what Feyre did and the Blood Rite. Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie were kidnapped and forced into the Blood Rite. They didn't actually choose to.

Side note though: Valkyries are from Norse mythology. It does chap me that she couldn't use a mythology or create something new for her Illyrians to flesh out their culture. She just used a primarily white culture for her non-white character's culture.

Sorry to rant about that. It just irked me.

I can't for the life of me understand why anyone would ship Feysand the way it's written in Canon. I can with 100% confidence say I've never written a romance that involved anyone SAing anyone. Hell, I don't feature SA at all really. I don't want it in my fantasy. I want people to find peace and love in my books. Men have written enough SA in fantasy, it doesn't need any from me.

But like... if you look at their posts, the reason I don't like Feyre is because I wanted "my fav" to end up with Rhys. They can't fathom that I don't like Rhys at all. I don't like any of her men. They don't appeal to me at all. The only one I might’ve had any inkling of interest in is Kallias but I'm sure if we spent more than a handful of pages with him, I'd hate him too. I think she'd eventually change all of them regardless of appearance to something shallow and toxic.The Bat Boys specifically are boring to me. Their designs suck, their personalities suck and the way they treat their women sucks. Nothing I see in her books is what I would classify as love. Her books aren't about love. They're about sex with hot dudes. But you know what? Other books do romance, love and even just sex better.

I'm glad you blocked them. Just know, they still spy on us.

Thank you for your ask. I hope you're doing well.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

"I think that lots of things that I thought were possible before that was posted, don’t seem possible now." This is really interesting to me, because I've been following you a while and I never really felt that I knew what you think was possible re Harry and gender?

From what I have seen and read, Harry has never expressed a nuanced interest in this topic more than "everybody should be kind to everybody, and that includes women". Even worse, there have been terrible, terrible takes last year. For me, the whole Pleasing nonsense is way worse than the Pilates stuff - is he seriously selling anti aging crap to teenagers??? And the way he talked about queer films? That still makes me so angry, to the point that I'd prefer not to have Harry speaking on politics, gender and social issues at all.

To me, the missing "there, there" is really important in this context, because I also think that he is closeted. 25 years ago, when I was 18 years old, I was absolutely okay with everybody thinking that my parents might be abusive rather than people knowing that I was getting love bites from another girl. Mindboggling now. I've always had a good relationship with my parents, knew even then that they would be fine with me being a lesbian and I didn't live in a conservative environment at all. Still the fear of being forced out of the closet made me oblivious to everything else around me, it paralyzed me and I had no space for thinking about collective social issues.

Obviously Harry's situation is very different, but I see myself (and a lot of my queer friends) in him waffling nonsense and making bad choices (subjectively 'bad' to me at least) from a frightening closet. When he talked about his panic about being perceived as "somebody who has sex" or "people seeing how he kisses", it was really painful to me, like him playing Tom was painful to me, too. I hope therapy goes well for him if he wants that.

Being a 'new, meterosexual' man, who is sexy but also detached, might be a kind of compromise for Harry. Which it obviously isn't, and that is why people are missing the 'there, there' at a closer look. It is lacking authenticity, which I've seen mentioned in the media for the first time this year. My guess is that Harry and his team are aware of it and playing for time (3-5 more fat years?) but what do I know...

Of course nobody is forcing him to endorse the Pilates studio, but maybe it's something like "Harry, we'll give a short clip to the pilates study so you can have a three week holiday with your partner safely, is that alright?". 18 year old me would have said yes and not asked more questions, I'd just been happy to have three weeks without fearing to be dragged out of the closet. Might sound dramatic, but to me Harry's anxiety is palpable a lot of the time in the way he treats his body and, more lately, the things he says (which, again, might be wrong and 100% projection on my part).

Making his choices under circumstances he doesn't choose from when he was 16 years old is a lot. Maintaining a closet is a lot, even if you're not a popstar with millions of eyes on you, hundreds of peoples' livelyhood depending on you, and a partner who is in a similar but also very different position. It's a lot and I feel for Harry.

--

Sorry for this novel, I just love to read your thoughts and am checking obsessively if you reply to my anons. Lately I've saved them so that I might re-read my own thoughts later, like a diary. Strange but I guess there are stranger things on the internet ; )

Thanks for your thoughts anon - it's so awesome to hear that asking anons helps you process stuff. I'm going to respond to a couple of different things in here, but if there's something that you're super interested in that I miss.

That's a great starting point - what did I used to think was possible when it comes to Harry and gender. To focus a little bit on the politics of it - so his response to gender in society - not just as it relates to him - I think there are a wide variety of options. To give one example - he could have a visceral aversion to statements that 'men are like this and women are like this'. He could also have a political understanding that statements that men are one way and women are another are quite harmful. I think it's unlikely that he would go even further and feeling like it's important that he's part of changing that, but I wouldn't have said it's impossible. He also could not really have any thoughts about it all - when he sees a sentence like 'It's not just for girls, it separates the men from the boys' - he could just think 'that sounds reasonable'

Obviously now I think the possibilities cluster much more strongly around 'that sounds reasonable', but before the interview any of those could have been true.

*******

I'm so sorry to hear about your experiences and the way that they have shaped you. I'm so glad to hear that things are better from you and you have a good relationship with your parents. I hope you are kind to your younger self - her anxiety was a reasonable response to the world she

I totally agree that Harry's anxiety is palpable in a lot of what he does and how he interacts with the world. I think the 'people will know how I kiss' comment is an excellent example as are much of the other things you mention.

But in this case, I think understanding this through the lens of the closet doesn't bring any insight. In particular, in the way that you frame it - as if someone is giving this clip so that he can have time with his partner - there's absolutely no reason to believe that's true. Harry can have three week holidays with his partner without anyone knowing (wealth buys you that). The idea that this video would be seen to directly matter by Harry, or anyone working for him, doesn't make any sense with how we've seen him navigating the closet

That doesn't mean that there's not some connection. Anxiety works in mysterious ways and there could be all sorts of things going on for Harry. But I think imagining a straight forward 'he's doing this because he's anxious that otherwise he'll be outed' - is an over simplification that probably reveals more about your anxiety than Harry's.

********

I do agree that Harry's closet is central to the question of 'is there a there there'. I remember listening to the Harry episode of Popcast - and it felt like they were dancing around the possibility of him being closeted - but I don't think they were - I think they were just describing the gaps they saw.

But I think it's easy for fans to assume that the feeling that there's no there there is entirely caused by the closet. I think it's far more complicated than that - because I think it's also something about Harry that enables him to be such a successful blank space - and that wouldn't suddenly change when he was out.

In particular, I don't think the fact that we're both 'no Harry, speak less about politics' would necessarily change just because he was out (there are plenty of out queer musicians who have said cringe things now and in the past). I think he'd probably be a little more articulate if he wasn't so afraid, but only a little. I think the way that he's unwilling to be clear about whether he's talking about himself or the world is shaped by the closet, but that doesn't mean that he would disappear. I think he could build up a centre, if he came out, but I don't think it's inevitable that he would.

**********

I've been really frustrated by the silence in response to that statement and that's led to me responding with the boldest, brashest version of what I think.

So here's another way of expressing the same idea. What if Harry did support the message of that video? What if it did reflect part of his worldview?

There are other explanations - but the fact that he agreed with something that he put his image to is always going to be the most likely one. And I think it's worth Harry's fans, particularly those who argue about what he's really like or talk as if they know what he's like, sitting with that possibility. And either including that view in what Harry might be like, or accepting that what they're talking about is not what Harry is like, but who they want him to be.

[bubble-you]

i didn't dress like anything recognisable as a respectable figure -- amorphous GNC alone in a park with her wild dog. i wore a collar and the black cargo pants which i belatedly realised makes me look militant, as if i could have a gun in my pocket. the jacket is a men's jacket, it was a gift to me. and i hadn't brushed my hair, i was walking my dog. if i had looked like a white woman like she is she would at least have said 'excuse me' before talking to me, before overwhelming me with demands i did not have the time to explain why i was not willing to fulfill and not in the habit of fulfilling, and explain that i was not in the habit of obeying orders from random strangers that are not immediately reasonable, and all while doing things that look a lot like kicking my dog. but aren't. she was just pushing the dog with her foot, but you'd be annoyed nonetheless -- nobody does that here. but being a white woman wouldn't stop me from daydreaming out on the playground, deep in my thoughts -- i'd still have to be aware of my body language and make distance from other people. being a white autistic woman i imagine i'd just look fey. i really don't know white women well and it's not that i desperately *want* to, but they're unavoidable in this country and i want to stop othering them -- do you know, when she talked to me i immediately thought her voice was demanding and bossy and i immediately did have a thought about the karen stereotype but it is harmful to think of stereotypes and act on them and all in all i was just gonna walk away and then she's like 'you're not gonna put on the leash'? 'don't you know this isn't a dog-off-leash area?' yes but we come here all the time, this little playground and surrounding greens were very important to me when i was sick and couldn't walk far but sure you don't know that and we come here to throw the ball all the time i'm not going to be evicted out of my favourite spot for some stranger in the 5-10 seconds she was talking to me -- get off my back! and we come here anyways, so i shot back something like yeah why don't you report us then? and as an afab i don't usually have this experience but as i have short hair now and all this masculine clothing and also my voice is pretty deep i think i fucking scared her. like okay maybe you were having a bad day -- can you not get off my back? i know my dog. she was just gonna come sniff the hem of your dress and then move on. stop talking to me and maybe i could get out of your hair. if she was aggressive i wouldn't let her around people. granted, my dog looks scarier to strangers than she looks to me. like fine maybe you clocked me from afar hanging around a playground with no kids on it and immediately went isn't that dangerous? you're not supposed to be on a kids' playground? and i have no retort for that, it is by council policy true, but where else am i supposed to sit and hang with my dog, walking distance from my house? and yes i'm not sick *anymore* so i could go to a different park. so yeah actually this stranger who i've never seen before is gonna change my behaviour i guess, despite how stubborn i felt in the moment. which my PDA hates. i don't personally know what it's like to be catcalled but i imagine this child-conscious woman is a mother and probably conventionally femme and is hyperaware of things like strange men-like figures hanging around dressed in black and acting ... you know, absorbed in their own heads, like some people are -- but you would be much more comfortable around a stranger who was aware of their surroundings and behaved accordingly. i don't like that presenting masculine makes me look like i should be treated with suspicion, that not conforming, not looking like something familiar and safe means i should treat myself as if i were a threat. it's new to me. i know men surely experience this all the time.

she really did pull out her phone and -- i don't know if she turned the camera on but -- she really did start speaking as if she was recording for facebook live, as if she were making a tiktok -- explaining the context from her perspective, that this person couldn't control their dog and they're on a playground and see? see they're still not on leash. and grr it's not fair that she can speak so much faster than me but i guess i would feel sadder if she was just intimidated by me and ran off. she has the sense of being used to having authority -- like she's ordering her kids or some people around. like okay you're having a bad day. but out in the park you are not entitled to authority over others, in ways that poc immigrants do not feel entitled to. and maybe i was fixated on newly immigrated issues that morning due to the fact that i'm a second generation immigrant and that's -- unchangeably, immutably -- part of my identity, and defines which social circles i belong to. i'm not the victim -- i think we both partly acted unreasonably and partly acted reasonably-- but after that encounter my hands trembled and i could feel my cortisol spiking. who would have thought some woman would have the same intimidating defensive reaction as a guy who would immediately pick a fight if you provoked him. honestly, good for her, power to her, but it means from now on i need to start avoiding white women. stickler to the rules in ways that the majority in this suburb are not. would absolutely join a HOA if those existed here. i did *not* want to go viral on tiktok in a biased fear-fuelled ragebait story. does *not* look good for the pocs or gncs. not a fan of someone being afraid of me -- but unfortunately this is part of my personality, i *am* loud and i do get irritable and overwhelmed easily and my energy does come out in forms that can be hurtful, and only recently did i start to look into how to manage these patterns so as to not hurt people in my life.

[diedbutterflies69]

Drunk in love- Bang Chan imagine.

This is pure imagination. Minors don't interct.

Contains: explicit stuff fingering, blowjob, sex etc.

Red lights mv is the reason for this imagine.

Being alone never bothered you until now. Being alone at a place you don't belong. Sitting in An expensive night club, after quitting your job you decided to have time for yourself and do all the things you missed out so and the sixteenthth goal of your list was drinking in the city's most stunning and expensive club, you decided to get Fully wasted while slurping various wines, champagne, sweet Mimosa etc. but after seeing the price you realised that the one shot of vodka's price was equivalent to your whole month's grocery budget.

So yeah this is how you were struck, with a beautiful woman who gave you rich CEO vibes slightly drunk and was ranting about some buisness stuff you barely knew.

And she was really something else so damn pretty, elegant even her voice was sexy even though you were quite straight you wouldn't hesitate to be her sugar baby cause Money .

You don't understand how a powerful women like her was being so vulnerable infront of you, maybe because you helped her fixing her expensive backless dress, which was on edge of tearing, who didn't expect her to give you such a great treatment and open up to you. It has been 2 hours since you have been with that stunning women, but now you were really tired and was just wished to go to your nest. While being deep in your thoughts that women whose name was Sana (pretty people have pretty name too) her phone ranged .

" hey, your phone is ringing", you said her softly resulting her in giving a whiny look.

" whoever that is calling can suck fuck itself, you hear me , ignore it", Sana said after silencing her phone and again giving you some great intellectual knowledge.

The phone may have vibrated more than 6 times before Sana decided to to pick it and you again knew however was on the other line will be hearing tons of unique insults now ..

"hello, Bang I am absolutely fine and just having drinks with my new found friend, you relax and go, bye" Sana said screaming her lungs out as the music was hella loud. You were quite surprise by how kind she sounded, She called someone Bang as far you remembered , Must be someone special to her you thought.

"who was it? ", You asked her cautiously trying to not appear too nosy. In answer to your question she gave you a big smile and continuing " My little brother, you already know what kind of shit I am going through so he just worried for me, I am lucky right?", While describing her little bro there was a big smile on her beautiful face and yeah she surly was lucky cause the brother you had was a druggist because of whom you used to get really low on money back in days. And now the phone again rung and she picked up guess she really hated how the person on other side of line was feeling.

"Hello again", Sana said her voice really tired and vulnerable. You guessed that person on the other side asked her where she was as she said the club's name next. You really hate this club from the depth of your heart, cause you didn't got any alcohol to taste nor good food. You were bought back to reality As Sana yelled at the person who was on phone.

"I will kill you if you come here", Damn Sana sounded 1999 times more dangerous now and you were scared to death. But a little glad as someone was coming to pick her up and that meant you can go back to your dead apartment too.

"Guess he will eventually come here, I should just get fully wasted than hearing his boring lecture" Sana said after cutting the call , she signalled a waiter to your table and ordering some great quality of alcohol. Yess finally you could too get a little raste too of that sweet paradise drink, you were internally screaming as the waiter bought some nice too good to be true shots. Sana immediately gulping down three shot one after another means she just swallowed your three months grocery.

Now pushing your urge to atleast try one shot, you stopped Sana from getting wasted and distracting . Once again you killing your desires, after about 20 minutes you saw a drop dead gorgeous Man approaching your and Sana's table . That man was wearing an expensive black suit you could feel his intimidating aura even from a distance, his eyes darker than your future, even in those blurry red lights you can easily notice every feature of that hot stranger. You were bought back to reality when that stranger straight up goes to Sana who was little wasted but still sane. You salute her alcohol tolerance level.

" you fine?" The man asked Sana, now you were sure that he was Sana's little bro but you didn't thought by little she meant such a great human with outstanding body proportions. He was so sexy you were internally drowling over that sexy human's visuals.

" You seriously came here? Damn I love my brother so much", Sana said in her voice clearly indicating how drunk she was. She was smiling adorably at her bro but he looked at her with a annoyed gaze.

"get up, let me take you to your house, come", the stranger said and helped Sana to get up from her seat, which made her stumbled and now you clearly knew her alcohol tolerance level was trash, she wasn't able to even stand without any support . Your hands reached her waist in attempt to save her from falling. And that action finally made the man to look at you . your heartbeat increased so much just by his mere gaze at you . And for the first time in night he talked to you.

"who are you", he asked you . Ouch, that was an obvious question to ask but you were disappointed because how boring and uninterested his tone was with you while with Sana he sounded so fuckin caring. But regardless gulping down your nervousness, you replied to him politely.

"umm, I helped Sana slightly and from then we are talking", you knew your explanation was just trash but it atleast made that man realise that you were the 'new found friend' who Sana described on call.

"Okay, can you help me carry her back till parking lot?", The Stanger asked you, his voice now laced up with little gratitude and expectation. You simply nodded your head and wrapped Sana's one arm to your shoulder and helped her walking while that man went to pay the bill.

At parking lot you were standing with a little dead women, while waiting for him , all you saw at parking lot was beautiful and costly cars, something which you won't be able to afford it this lifetime. You never felt this much out of place before. That man's presence bought you back to reality, again feeling insecure as you standed next to Sana. She was a goddess and her brother an alluring devil.

He didn't spoke much to you and simply helped you carry Sana to the Car.

Now, an overdramatic old aged man coming out of car, which you think you knew, her deceased husband's dad, Sana had gave you her whole family history , future and economic information, apparently that old man treated Sana as his own daughter and today Sana lost the lawsuit related to her late husband's death and that was the reason for Sana's mad women behaviour today. That old man looked as Sana and it seemed like he was controlling his urge to cry, but nevertheless got inside the car with her to tired to even thank you.

Now here's when the fun begins. You were left alone alone with that alluring devil. But you sadly knew he wasn't even interested in you even 1 % so you got ready to go back to your nest and started walking until..

"wait!, Let me drop you to your home please", he said and wooow how could you say no to that glamorous offer as it was too late at night to get a bus and too hard to get a cab. You acted like a little hesitant but eventually said yes, as you didn't knew how less time it will take him to take back his offer. Following him to his car And again your jaw almost dropped it was the hottest car you ever seen in your life. And it was honour for you to get a chance to be inside it. The man opened the door for you, you not being sure if he was being a gentleman or to was preventing you to touch his car, but nevertheless you got inside it the temperature was warmer inside the car and the air freshener was doing a great job. He got on driving seat next to you and started driving.

After exiting the parking lot he asked for your address, and you just told him to drop next to bus stop cause the building you lived was apparently more like a abandoned haunted place.

he didn't forced you for further answers and started driving to your direction.

You were lost in admiring the Stranger's car from inside and literally got startled by his deep voice.

"listen, can I please drop you somewhere , your place is too far from here, I need the go somewhere today", he said you and your mood literally dropped, yeah it was true that you lived far away from club it took you 3 hours to reach there in traffic, so swallowing your disappoint you replied.

"it's okay, drop me here only", you didn't knew why your voice was so weak at the moment maybe because you wanted a little bit kindness from that man but he just ruined your every expectation.

"I am sorry, but there is another option too" that man said to when you were getting ready to yeet yourself out of his useless expensive car.

"you gonna call cab for me, no thanks I will look for it " you Said and you didn't expect to sound rude. You thought now that man will now won't hesitate to throw you out of window.

But in response he smiled, for first time in night but his smile a little evil.

"no, I meant you can spend the night at my house", he said voice laced up with nothing but purness.

And your heart stopped. Spending a night at someone else house and that someone was a dangerous devil. You immediately said no to his tempting offer but

"Please,it doesn't make me feel good to drop off a such a fantastic women of my car and you even helped my sister, I should repay your kindness, please.."

You were more than just shocked, whatever he just said was something you least expected, he fucking called me gorgeous you thought and your heart literally flied in the sky.

"no, it's okay please drop me here", you said impatiently, the nervousness kicking you on head.

"Relax, I am not gonna do anything to you, don't be afraid" he said you in such a calm tone fully opposite of his devil like demonor, you immediately melted and tried to consider his offer, his house won't be less than any luxury hotel and you being you..

"are you comfortable, letting a stranger in your house?" You asked him honestly you didn't wanted to make yourself a burden to that man. In response to your question the stranger let out a soft chuckle.

"forget me,are you comfortable being in some Stranger's house?", He asked you with strange curious tone. You honestly didn't knew the answer.

"Yes, I am comfortable, you only told you won't do anything so", your voice coming out softer a little innocent. He smiled at your answer, somehow satisfied.

"So should I take car to my house?", He asked you again, damn you wanted to shout a big ass yes, but suppressed the desire by simply nodding. And so the stranger reversed the car back to his house direction.

"what's your name ?", He asked you, looking at you finally he initiated a conversation.

"Y/N, what's your name?", You asked him.

"Chan", he simply replied.

"nice", you said and again silence. You were a super awkward person and that fact wasn't hided from Chan.

"What do you do for living?", Chan asked after some second and you frowned upon hearing that question.

"I am sorry, if it was too personal", he quickly noticed your behaviour you tried to say something "No, I am just unemployed at the moment and I am writer, yes writer", you replied what you said wasn't completely a lie you used to write some articles back in past but your recent job from which you quitted was at a restaurant.

"Wow, writers are amazing, it's great make people connect to your work", Chan complimented you for something you really didn't did. Still you took it and smiled back.

" your work must be tough sir, balancing off an company ain't easy", you complimented Chan back.

" Sana must have told you about what I do, right?", Chan asked you to which you nodded.

Again silence and in 5 minutes the car stopped infront of a skyscraper.

Rich people really live in sky. You thought.

"here we are", Chan said after opening the door for you and handing off the keys to guard.your neck almost got twisted to see end of the building.

"Done looking?", Chan asked you slightly waving his hand infront your face and damn he was veiny. Having a thing for hands was definitely your thing and Chan must have noticed your hungry gaze on his hands but didn't said anything .

"yeah let's go", you replied and started walking with him.

You both entered in heavantor. And again the same awkward air surrounding you both. Maybe it was sexual tension in Chan's mind which you scrapped off as awkward.

"Do you perhaps... Have a boyfriend?", Chan asked with a little hesitation in his, and for the first time in your whole life you got this nervous, he didn't proposed you but his question was very suggestive.

"no I don't, do you have girlfriend?", You answered and asked back.

"No", Chan answered and again silence.

"why you asked?", You again questioned him

"To know if I can make you interested in me or not", Chan said back a proud smirk dancing on his face and you were dead. He said something bold so confidently your mind pure hazey now.before you could say something the doors of hellevator opened.

"let's go", Chan said immediately getting out like he just didn't almost gave you heartattack. Nevertheless you followed him.

He put on the passcode and you both entered in his luxurious house. The house something you didn't expect. Dark, just as much dark as your future, but it looked freaking classy.

Chan showed you a room, to spend a night, but you noticed how he was holding back from something and as well as you. And you knew it was now or never.

"I am already interested in you, why would you want to make me though?", You asked if you thought it was bold but you stuttered as much as students who gave presentations.

But Chan find it alluring about you. Cliché but, he was too in daze after meeting you. And now finally his wish coming true. He smiled and come a little too close to you.

"Because, I am really interested in kissing your beautiful lips", Chan said , if this line would be came out of any normal guy then it would be to cringy, But Chan was your alluring hot devil and fantasy, someone so beautiful interested in me you thought. you tried to say the first thing that came to your mind.

"Then kiss.. me", You said the last word almost like a whisper , Chan smirked at you, you were literally his ideal type he knew you weren't innocent but ironically you were.

Chan's hand reached your cheek and made you look at him, being too embarrassed you avoided his eyes.

"Look at me, Y/N", Chan almost said as a whisper. Gathering your scattered courage you finally managed to look in to Chan's eyes and his eyes were .. scary.

"I can kiss you, right?", Chan again asked you and you sweared nothing is as hot as consent. You nodded a yes to him.

"Baby, use your words", Chan said the word baby rolled of his tongue so erotically.

"Yes", you said not breaking the eye contract.

"is it okay to Call me sir?", He asked you, now you were dead sure that this man was Kinky af. And you won't be surprised if he had a tons of chain in his bedroom.

"Kiss me, Sir", you said literally feeling so submissive to him. A last smile Chan gave you before his lips touched yours and the butterflies in your stomach exploded. His lips were soft, but the kiss wasn't he sucked at your bottom lip almost painfully and when his tongue entered your mouth, butterflies again exploded, his tongue doing wonders in your mouth , you didn't even knew a kiss so deep, so sensual can happen. With Chan's right hand at back of your neck ,the other one reached down to squeeze your hand in a tight yet sensual grip you finally feeling those veins and the kiss getting more heated.

"let's continue this in bedroom, Chan said after finally breaking the kiss to catch breath, he lifted you up in his arms and it felt so fuckin great, he was so strong even though you were little heavy Chan showed no sign of uneasiness. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and while he carried you to his bedroom, you never felt this much safe in anyone's arms as much as this hot Stranger's.

He put you down while unlocking his door, after unlocking he again carried you and softly laid you down on his grey bedsheets. His room was a mix of grey and blue a little weird but you didn't got much time to explore as Chan immediately started his ministrations on your body. He was a great man who believed in foreplay supremacy.

"Aah", you moaned a little as he sucked at your neck the little sound of yours making his dick painfully hard. He got on his knees towering your frame.

"Can your mouth handle this?", Chan asked you pointing at his memeber and were glad to give him a positive answer. Getting up, you undid his belt and removed both his pants and briefs simultaneously, Chan looking at you like a animal the whole time. The moment his erection was visible to you , you were beyond shock, he was so fucking big he won't obviously fit in your mouth, but you didn't wanted to disappoint Chan so you slowly entered the tip of cock in your mouth going little by little back and forth slowly till it was deep enough to hit the back of your throat. You slightly gagged and that sended shivers to Chan's spin ,to get that feeling again his hand wrapped around hair and detaching you from his cock.

"will you be comfortable, if I go rough?", Chan again asked you , and without any second thought you said yes to him. After being satisfied with your answer, he immediately tightened his grip on your hair and shoved you back on his cock, his tip directly coming in contract with back of your throat and a gagged being heard, you didn't expect him to be this rouf but it was such a turn on for you. You stumbled a little as he was ramming himself inside you hands gripping on to his thighs for support. He wasn't moaning too much but grunting and occasional deep breaths.

"Fuck, you have wonderful mouth babe, so fucking perfect", Chan praised you that resulted in your pussy skipping a heartbeat and encouraging you to go Even deeper.

Your one hand coming in contact with his balls which maybe was his string before cumming. He was grunting too much which meant he was close .

"keep going babe, I am gonna cum inside your mouth, will it be okay?", Chan asked and to affirm him you just increased the speed.

"don't let it fall" , Chan said and after a few seconds he bursted in your mouth, a warm feeling welcoming inside your throat and just as Chan commanded you swallowed it all without letting his seeds fall. After fully empting himself inside your mouth Chan removed his cock from your mouth.

"let out your tongue", Chan commanded you in his breathless voice you immediately following his words. Slowly removing your tongue.

You looked so submissive to Chan, the perfect person to fuck he wished to fuck. Chan spitted inside your mouth, your eyes widen on his sudden such a filthy yet hot action.

"Swallow it, babe", Chan said voice fully filled with lust. You obeyed him without any hesitation, whatever Chan was doing to you made you feel like being on cloud nine.

Chan again made you lie on the matteress , him staring at you from top, ever so submissive. Chan's hand directly reached your Fully clothed breasts his mere action made you whimper, your small little sounds were giving him so much satisfaction.

"so fucking sensitive", Chan said to himself as he his fingers were dancing on top of your breast. To eager to see your naked body, he slightly tilted your body to undo the dress zipper after successfully removing it he undid your bra next. Your breasts immediately being exposed to his eyes and Chan just lost his sanity, immediately slapping your right breast as an instict,. You moaned loudly at the sudden pain but it was pleasurable enough to make your panties wet.

"Do you like it, you like being gropped and slapped ,huh?", Chan asked you and your head in pure haze .

"yes sir I like it", you breathlessly said causing Chan to smirk , he loved to know what kind of effect he had on your body and mind. After twisting and slapping your nipples Chan finally decided to take them inside his mouth and paint them with beautiful marks. You were questioning his real identity at this moment his teeth felt like Some wolf was devouring you but it was damn pleasurable.

You were a moaner even a screamer during sex , which fueled Chan's lust to give you even more pleasure.

Being done with your boobs now Chan's hands reached your most sensitive part. He wasn't really surprised to know how much wet you were down there when his hands cupped your pussy through the panties.

"my baby is dripping, who caused her wetness?", Chans asked you in dangerous tone you just moaned at his words but he harshly slapped your cunt.

"I asked a question, answer it", Chan warned you his sudden rude tone again surprising you you stuttered as you answered him .

"you sir, I am dripping because of you", you answered Chan and he was satisfied. He entered his middle finger inside your pussy with through the cloth, the harsh texture of cloth making you moaned out. He removed your panties and without a warning entered his 2 fingers inside you and twisting them ever so harshly , Chan was a sex God.

And it was just the beginning of night.

Thanks for reading ❤️.

[endlessbittersweetdreams]

"Broken & Beautiful" Chapter 2

     I wake up slowly, finding myself in the same position I had fallen asleep in. Jake is still next to me, sound asleep. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the soft warm gushes of breath brushing my hair. I can hear the sound of his heart beat, and I find it soothing. This is a peaceful moment, though a tad too intimate for people who are merely co-workers. Still, it’s a peaceful feeling, and I hate to pry myself away.

     I prop myself up on my elbow and look toward the window, taking note of how bright it is outside. I glance at the clock on my nightstand and see that it is already 10:00 AM. I gaze down at Jake and smile fondly. He is sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly open. His right hand is tucked under his head, while his left arm is stretched out. I admit that I really do find him attractive, his dark hair a little messy and black lashes standing out against pale skin.

     If I didn’t know him better - if he had been a handsome stranger I had encountered in some random place - I could find myself drawn to him. But I have seen the way he is with women; how he treats them. To him, they seem to be nothing more than sexual conquests. Once he’s grown tired of one, he casts her aside and then moves on to the next. I swore to myself, long ago, that I would never allow myself to be treated that way again. And so, as attractive as Jake is, he is definitely on my mental list marked “Don’t Even Think About It!”

     I move out from underneath the covers and set my bare feet down on the carpet. Feeling groggy, I rub the sleep out of my eyes and then make my way over to the curtain that serves as a barrier between my sleeping space and the rest of my apartment. I pause for a moment and look back at Jake, relieved when I see that he is still sleeping. I know I should probably wake him, but I really don’t have the heart to.

     I go to the bathroom first to brush my teeth, splash water on my face, and run a brush through the knots in my hair. After tying my hair back in a messy ponytail, I go to the kitchen to prepare a bot of coffee. If I don’t have at least two servings in the morning, I simply cannot function. After all, “Coffee is Life,” according to my favorite mug.

     While the coffee brews, I lean against the counter and think about last night’s events. Why on Earth did I open up to Jake the way I did? What was it that convinced me to tell him things I’ve never even told Will, my best friend? Was I really so vulnerable and desperate for a listening ear?

     The coffee is ready, and I prepare my favorite drink just the way I like it: with two tablespoons of cocoa and some peppermint creamer. I guess you could say I like a little coffee with my sugar. Deciding to wait until 11:00 to wake my guest, I take my coffee into the living room and set the mug down on the table. Since I have less than an hour to kill, I might as well read a few more passages in my favorite novel.

     Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy are in the middle of yet another one of their verbal sparring matches when Jake walks into my living room, shoes in one hand while the other hand rubs at his eyes. He really is kind of adorable in a way, his hair still messy and his clothes rumpled.

     “Morning!” I greet him cheerfully, taking a sip of coffee and eyeing him over the mug. He makes a small, grumbling sound. “Sleep well?”

     Another grumble, followed by “Yeah. I guess,” as he sits down on the sofa and puts on his shoes. His voice is a bit rough from sleep, and I admit that it does have a sexy quality to it.

     I smirk at him, amused by his grumpiness. “I made some coffee. Want some?”

     No words. Just a nod. Definitely not a morning person.

     After book-marking the novel, I set both it and the coffee mug down and then venture into the kitchen. Retrieving a mug from the cabinet, I call out to him “How do you like it?”

     “Black,” is his response. “Do you have a spare toothbrush I could use?”

     “Yup. One toothbrush coming up.”

     I lead him to the bathroom and I pull open one of the drawers, which is filled with items I’ve procured from the dentist’s office. He chuckles a bit and makes a comment about how well-prepared I am, and I leave him to it. By the time he’s finished in the bathroom, a freshly poured mug of coffee is waiting for him.

     I am a little nervous and fidgety, not knowing if I should invite him to stay for breakfast or if I should let him leave after finishing his coffee. I’m not exactly certain what to do in circumstances like this, and I feel silly for feeling so awkward. I feel rather embarrassed, really, given how emotional and vulnerable I was last night.

     “I was about to fix breakfast,” I blurt out. “I can fix enough for you, too, if you’d like. You know, as a way to thank you for putting up with me last night.”

     He pauses mid-sip, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth as he looks at me over the rim of the mug. I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure he an tell I’m nervous. Knowing Jake, he probably gets a kick out of seeing me like this. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if were a smirk hidden behind the mug. “That would be great. Thanks.”

     “So, what would you like? I have waffles. Eggs. Bacon. Sausage. Pancakes. Whatever you want.”

     “Waffles and eggs sound good.”

     “Waffles and eggs it is.”

     While Jake sits at the table and enjoys his coffee, I set about cooking breakfast. We chat a little here and there, focusing mainly on work. Our schedules. What we need to accomplish today. And, of course, our favorite topic: the everyday drama at the restaurant. To be honest, it really can be ridiculous. There are moments when I feel I’m right back in high school.

     I set a plateful of waffles, bacon and fried eggs down in front of Jake and then wander back to the kitchen counter to fix myself a plate. Joining him at the table, I finally bring up the subject I honestly don’t want to talk about. But I find it best to address it now.

     I‘m avoiding looking at him, staring down at my food instead. “Jake, I really do want to thank you for what you did last night. I know it really wasn’t that ... convenient for you. You know, dealing with the mess that is me when I know you probably wanted to be anywhere else but here.” Finally, I look up at him. He’s taking another sip of coffee and looking at me intently, silently bidding me to continue. “But I appreciate it. I needed someone to talk to, and you were there. So ... thank you.”

     “Do you realize you’ve said ‘Thank you,’ like ... fifty times now?” he asks with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood a bit. It works, and I smile back in return. “You’re welcome. And thank you for breakfast. It’s been a long time since someone has done this for me.”

     “You’re welcome. I guess what my adoptive mother said is true: I’m never truly happy unless I’m cooking for someone or fixing them something to drink. Which explains why I tend bar, I guess.”

     “Well, there’s that ... and there’s the fact that you get to work with me.”

     Jake grins back at me, a sight I very rarely get to see. Usually, he remains stoic. Occasionally, I’ll see him give a little smirk to some random woman he’s interested in. But it’s not often that I get to see him smile. It’s nice, and I wish he’d do it more often. It looks good on him.

     “Oh, yes. That is the highlight of my day,” I quip back.

     We keep the rest of our conversation light until breakfast is eaten and it’s time for him to leave. I unlock the door for him and pull it open and, just before he steps out I stop him.

     “Jake, what I said last night ... All those things about my mom ... I don’t want anyone else to know. It was hard enough talking to you about it. I don’t want to have to deal with all the questions.”

     He gives me a nod of understanding. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” He makes a move to leave, but I put a hand on his arm to stop him again.

     “Not even Simone. I know how close you two are, and --”

     “My lips are sealed. It’s not like we tell each other everything, you know.” I give him a nod of acceptance. “See you at work?”

     I think about it for a moment, not certain if I’m ready to face my friends. Going by the amount of text messages I received, they’re all worried about me. I’m sure they have a lot of questions about what happened, and I don’t want to be bombarded with them. But I do have rent and bills to pay. I can’t just call in sick and loaf around the apartment, feeling sorry for myself. I’ll have to face things sooner or later.

     I nod, deciding that there’s no point in being a coward. “Yeah. See you at work.”

As predicted, I end up facing the fallout of yesterday’s incident. As soon as I walk into the locker room, I find myself swarmed by my friends. Sasha, who refers to me as his “Little Angel,” for some reason, is the one who fusses over me the most. And I thought I could be dramatic. Ari is quick to offer me a few of her “special treats,” and I’m only half-paying attention to Heather as she tells me about the calming effects of meditation. And Will, of course, is quick to offer me a hug and his usual “If you need anything, you can talk to me,” speech.

     I really do appreciate their concern, but I’m already feeling overwhelmed. I quickly assure them that I’m all right; that yesterday was just a fluke and there’s nothing to worry about. They seem to accept that and they leave, one by one. I watch the doorway for a few seconds, just to make sure that they’re truly gone, and then open my locker. A lovely floral scent wafts toward me, and that’s when I notice a small sachet resting on the shelf. I pick it up and bring it to my nose, closing my eyes as I take in the lovely scent of lavender.

     Attached to the sachet is a hand-written note: To help you get through your day. It’s not signed, and I don’t recognize the hand-writing, which means I have no idea who to thank. But I still appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

     I scramble to get ready, practically choking myself when I pull my tie a little too tight, and then discreetly stuff the sachet inside my bra before leaving for Family Dinner.

     I need all the help I can get.

The rest of my day flies by in a blur. While Jake and I work different ends of the bar, the job often requires me to venture over to his side. As always, we keep the conversation light. Not once does he ask me the dreaded question: “Are you okay?” I’m grateful for this because if another person asks me if I’m “okay,” I might just scream.

     The only real low-point is being called into Howard’s office halfway into my shift. I can already feel myself begin to tense up with worry, and I hope the anxiety pill I took earlier will work its magic. Turns out I really have nothing to worry about. Howard is merely checking up on me, and I assure him that I’m fine. Even though it wasn’t my fault, I do offer him an apology for any embarrassment I caused yesterday. He assures me that no embarrassment was caused and then sends me on my way. When I come back, Jake and I exchange a look and I just give him a small smile before I go back to my end of the bar.

     Needless to say, I’m grateful for the end of my shift. Now I can get out of this ridiculous uniform, put on my comfortable clothes, and relax. Normally, I would participate in Shift Drinks. It’s Howard’s way of thanking his employees, and it’s our way to unwind. The customers (or “guests,” as Howard calls them) don’t realize it, but our jobs can be extremely stressful at times. We deserve this chance to decompress and be ourselves without Howard breathing down our necks.

     But thanks to my need for a second anxiety pill, not to mention my desire to be alone, I instead find myself leaning against the wall in the alley outside the restaurant and enjoying my second vice: smoking. I don’t do this often. If not for the prescription medication flowing through my veins, I’d probably be enjoying a nice glass of wine or even a beer. But I’m not taking any chances. And so, smoking it is.

     I’m in the middle of blowing out smoke circles and staring up at the stars when Jake’s voice catches my attention.

     “There you are! I thought you went home.” He leans against the wall across from me, cigarette in his mouth, and I toss him my lighter when he realizes he doesn’t have his.

     “Nope. Not yet,” I respond, taking back my lighter and stuffing it into my coat pocket.

     “Look at you. I didn’t know this about you,” he comments, his tone sounding kind of proud. “You are a rebel,” he teases.

     “Yeah. I can’t drink ‘cause I just took an anxiety pill. So ...” I hold up my cigarette for emphasis and continue to blow out little smoke circles.

     “Long day.”

     “The longest.”

     “I take it you’re not going to Home Bar?” He leaves his side of the alley and moves to my side, leaning against the wall next to me.

     “No.”

     I try to ignore the way I feel with him so close; the way my heart rate seems to pick up and little tingles seem to dance throughout me. My body seems to be betraying me. I’ve worked with Jake for two years, and I’ve never reacted to him like this. It’s not that I don’t find him attractive. He’s downright gorgeous! There’s no doubt about that. But I’ve never allowed myself to think of him in that way. But now, after last night and this morning, my body seems to ... come alive whenever he’s close to me.

     Wanting to put some distance between us, I toss what’s left of my cigarette to the ground and put it out with the sole of my boot. “Well, I think I’ll head home. See you tomorrow.”

     I walk away as fast as I can, hoping I’m not too obvious, and silently berate myself for my sudden and unbidden attraction to someone I know isn’t good for me. I’m almost at the end of the block when I hear footsteps behind me. Suddenly, Jake is walking next to me.

     “Umm ... Home Bar is the other way, Jake,” I comment, and my voice shakes a bit. I try to cover it up by feigning a cough.

     “I know. But your apartment is this way, and I thought I’d keep you company.”

     “Jake, I’m fine. Really. Why don’t you go to Home Bar? Have fun. Drink one for me.”

     But he remains stubborn, and we cross the street together. “If I wanted to go to Home Bar, I’d go to Home Bar. Come on. How do you think I’d feel if you ended up kidnapped?”

     “Jake, I’ve walked this very same route for two years. I’m perfectly safe.”

     We come to a stop now, and he’s giving me that look. The look that I now find insanely attractive. “Come on. Indulge my conscience.”

     I’m not winning this argument. Am I? “Fine. Just to the door.”

     “See? That wasn’t so hard. Was it?” he teases as we continue walking.

     I keep my tone light as I respond with a very mature “Shut up!”

@anastacia-lynn

[sarah-bae-maas]

Gwyn wants to explore, and Azriel needs a friend - a Gwynriel fic - Part 1

In honour of this blog turning five years old, I thought I would treat you all to a two part/chapter Gwynriel fic that has been wandering around in my brain throughout countless days of lockdown and tortuous university classes. 

I’m already well underway with part 2 of this fic, but I do have some assignments coming up, so expect it within the fortnight! 

So please do enjoy this nearly 15k words worth of Gwynriel goodness <3

Masterlist Ao3

_____________

She was staring at him.

Again.

Azriel had always paid special attention to Gwyn – not that he would tell her that, of course. It was a secret held deep in his shadows that she was his favourite Valkyrie, the one he thought the most brave and resilient. It would not be an unpopular opinion if he did share it, the other women looked at her with great admiration, and Nesta often sung her praises when the female wasn’t there to refute her words. But Azriel knew the presumptions people might make if they knew he thought it, and the last thing he wanted was for a misunderstanding to make Gwyn uncomfortable.

Gwyn was holding a bag for Emerie to kick, her stance strong enough that she didn’t flinch at all with each pummel. Her focus should have been on Emerie’s form, but rather her teal eyes were glued to him. Every time Azriel looked over at her, she quickly shifted her gaze to her friend, but his shadows constantly reminded him that Gwyn was once again paying her attention to him.

Cassian called the end of the session. Azriel was grateful, he was finding it harder and harder to train the women effectively when he knew Gwyn was right there.

He practically fled the scene, his cheeks brushed with red, barely nodding to the women who said their thanks to him as he passed. It’s not that he didn’t like her attention, but it made his stomach feel heavy, his hands shake, and he didn’t like how out of control he felt whenever she looked at him like that.

He settled in the dining room. Standing, he braced his hands on the table, a bead of sweat dripping off his forehead and tarnishing the wood. Nesta wouldn’t like if he got his sweat all over the table, even though her and Cassian had coated it in far more scandalous bodily fluids. He should do something productive, like work or eat or pester Rhys and Feyre to have Nyx for the afternoon, but instead he chose to close his eyes and picture the person who’d been haunting him.

He and Gwyn were friends. She was over nearly every night to eat with Nesta, their dinners a sort of lively Azriel hadn’t experienced since he’d lived in Illyria with Rhys and Cas. It was joyful to live in a space filled with such light, but also overwhelming. Azriel found that as much as he loved the time with the rag-tag team they’d made for themselves, his social timer still clicked in his mind as a constant reminder that sometimes dealing with people, even the ones you loved, could be utterly exhausting.

Not with Gwyn though, his shadows lamented, setting him straight. No, Azriel never felt tired with her.

“Az?”

As though his thoughts alone had summoned her, Gwyn’s voice startled him out of his reverie. He turned, his lips parting slightly at the sight of her.

She was still in her training gear – a shirt and pants lovingly stitched by Emerie with embroidered flowers decorating the seams – her neat braid falling around her face, framing her pearlescent skin in fire.

“Gwyneth. Do you need something?”

Her eyes were wide, her hands clasped in front of her as she wrung her fingers. It made Azriel tilt his head in confusion, not understanding why she was so nervous. They spoke every day, she mouthed off at him often, and her shift in confidence had him surprised.

“I have a proposition for you, but you must promise to not tell a soul.”

Azriel raised a brow, leaning back into the table. He spread his hands before him. “I’m listening.”

Gwyn swallowed, her cheeks turning the same shade of red as her hair.

“Imsturbalt,” she squeaked.

“What?”

“I masturbate a lot!” She smacked her hands over her mouth, as if betrayed at the words they spilled.

Azriel’s jaw went slack, his eyes near bugging from his skull. “Okay… that’s good? Self-exploration!” He half-heartedly waved a celebratory fist in the air, not sure what to say to her statement.

She groaned louder than a stabbing victim. “I was thinking that, I didn’t intend to say it aloud.” She rubbed her hands over her face, peeking at him through her fingers. “Please don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Your secrets are safer with me than they are anyone else.” Azriel smiled, trying to diffuse the obvious tension in her body. “So, your proposition?”

She tensed her jaw, moving her arms behind and looking at the ground as she spoke. “I guess my previous statement that will never be mentioned again to anyone if you like having the functional use of your organsperhaps wasn’t entirely irrelevant to what I’m going to ask you. But I beg, please let me finish before you say anything, and also don’t feel pressured to say yes.”

“Okay.”

“Silence.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She grinned at him, her eyes finally meeting his again. “As you know, better than anyone really, I have a difficult past.”

Azriel wished he could burn the images of finding her on that table from his mind. He’d had to actively teach himself not to envision her crying and screaming for her sister when she’d first became a permanent fixture in House of Wind. He’s seen many horrific things in his time, was no stranger to the worst humanity had to offer, but it was different when it was someone so vulnerable, so selfless, so important to him. It might have made him a bad person that he didn’t equate people’s trauma accordingly, but how could he possibly care for a stranger as much as he cared for Gwyn?

“What happened to me made me fear my body. Fear the sexuality I see women like Nesta and Mor own. They’re so powerful, and the things that have happened to them… They’re not broken. They’re not less. They’re not afraid.” She paused, sighing deeply. “I would never look upon anyone in the library as lesser than because of the things that have happened to them. It wasn’t until I met Nesta and Emerie that I realised I didn’t give myself the same grace. I want to own the parts of me that were stolen. I want to feel like my body belongs to me. I didn’t even know where to begin, but then the House gave me this book, some fluffy romance novel, and the girl in it was just like me. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I just felt so seen. Like the Mother herself had handed this smut piece into my lap to make me feel better.”

Gwyn moved to one of the lounge chairs that Cassian had haphazardly shoved into a corner one night when Nesta didn’t feel like moving from the dining room. Gwyn was effortlessly graceful as she sat and curled her legs up, her head resting on her fist.

“That’s where the masturbating comes in.” Her eyes avoided his again, focusing on patterns her fingers drew in the velvet material of the chair. “The girl in the book did it. She’d never had an orgasm either. So, I did too.” She laughed quietly. “It made me feel good. Not just the physical pleasure part, but the part where it was just me, empowering myself at a pace I was comfortable with.”

Azriel wished he could say something, but one, he knew to be silent and let her have this moment, and two, he didn’t know how to tell someone he was proud of them for touching themselves without it sounding weird. He was proud though, extremely so, at how strong she felt from acting on her wants. Her resilience had always astounded him.

“In the book, the girl meets this man.” Her voice lowered, barely more than a whisper. “He treats her so kindly, in a way that I’ve seen Cassian treat Nesta a million times, in a way I yearn to be treated. I’ve given myself a clean slate. This body, my body, has only been touched by me. I am whole. I was never broken, just healing. And I’m at a stage where I want more. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Azriel wished her could say yes, please the eager note in her voice that hoped he was on the same page as her, but even his shadows were silent to her desires.

She glanced at him just long enough to see him shake his head. She tipped her head back. “When Nesta first started sleeping with Cassian, I was so curious. What were they doing? What was he doing to make her look so satisfied? But when I tried to picture it, my stomach would churn. And then time passed. I grew stronger. I became a Valkyrie. And like many others before me and many more in the centuries to come, I walked in on Cassian and Nesta fucking.”

Azriel inhaled sharply. To hear the vulgarity fucking from a mouth so pure sent a bolt through him, and he chided himself for his inappropriate thoughts during such a serious conversation.

“They don’t know I saw, not that I think they would have minded. I would bet good money that if I asked for a demonstration on pleasurable acts Cassian and Nesta would be more than happy to comply. Where I might have once felt sick from seeing them, instead I felt-”

She cut herself off, looking for the right words.

“I felt burning desire. I’ve never been so envious of someone in my life. I didn’t want to have sex with Cassian, but by the Cauldron I wanted to feel the way that Nesta did. I wouldn’t tell you this if I didn’t know you were such a good secret keeper. Or such a good friend.”

Azriel couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “Gwyn, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to have sex with me.”

***

Azriel stared at his ceiling, his shadows dancing and rolling around him.

I want you to have sex with me.

He tested the words on his own lips. They tasted sweet. They also brought an uncomfortable amount of pressure to his cock. He refused to touch it though and kept both his hands firmly behind his head.

He’d told Gwyn he needed to think about it, and she understood. She said she didn’t expect an answer from him straight away.

Azriel had a lot to consider.

He was practically titillated that when Gwyn had decided she wanted to explore herself with a male, it was him who she thought of. She expressed that it was because she knew he’d care for her, that he’d respect her and because of how much she trusted him. There were not words to express how hearing such things felt to him. It made him want to do this for her, because his soul be damned he knew he would do right by her. Make her feel good, feel special, feel appreciated.

It would be amiss though not to acknowledge that if he did do this, let her warm his bed while he tasted her, it could ruin not just the friendship they had established but also the dynamic of the house. She had assured him that if his answer was no, they would continue their lives as if the conversation never happened.

Which brought a darker thought to his mind.

If not Azriel, then who? She would surely approach someone else. Someone not deserving of her, who might not treat her how she deserved to be treated. That was not to say Azriel thought that in all his bastardly ways he was what Gwyn should have – no, she deserved more than he could ever give – but at least he knew that she would be safe with him.

The thought of another male’s hands on her made him see red.

That was answer enough.

***

Nesta and Cassian were gone for the weekend, caring for Nyx while Feyre and Rhys had a romantic getaway for the weekend. Azriel secretly thought Nesta was using this as a trial to see if her and Cassian were ready for a baby.

It was the perfect opportunity to have Gwyn join him.

The day after she’d approached him, he’d slipped her a note after training to say that he was all in, and to meet him the next night. He tried not to watch her face as she read the note but couldn’t help it. She went bright pink, but she seemed exhilarated.

And now she was standing in his room.

They nervously looked at each other. Azriel wanted to give her the chance to speak first other than their obligatory greetings, but she was tongue-tied.

“I was thinking we should take this in steps,” Azriel said, sitting on the edge of his bed, watching her refrain from pacing back and forth.

“That seems logical. What sort of steps?”

“I was thinking tonight we take sex off the table.”

“What?” Her face fell, hurt evident in her expression.

“Just for tonight. Gwyn, have you had your first kiss?”

She shook her head no.

“Then maybe we do that. And anything beyond only what you want. I need you to know that you’re in control here. Whatever we do or don’t do is completely your decision.”

She nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. “That sounds reasonable. Like you’re my little puppet.” Her hands mimed using a marionette, and Azriel found it easy to reciprocate her smile.

She moved to his side, planting herself on the bed next to him. He couldn’t help but notice the how good she smelled, how carefully her hair had been arranged and how she’d worn her nicest dress. She had wanted to look good for him, and the thought made his heart squeeze.

He reached out and held the hands she clasped in her lap. It made her look at him, her teal eyes flashing in the room only lit by his fireplace.

“You’re a very good friend, Azriel.”

“Do you want me to kiss you, Gwyn?”

She nodded, turning her body to face him.

He brushed her cheek with his thumb, then her lips, before he settled on cradling her face. She leant her head into his hand, so trusting as she looked at him. His hand was so big that the fingers that lay on her neck could feel her hammering pulse.

She leant in the same time he did.

At first it was just a peck. Their lips brushing against each other’s so gently it made Azriel ache. He pressed his lips to her again, and again, getting her used to the feeling of his lips on hers. She enthusiastically reciprocated, her slender fingers running up his chest before meeting behind his head, tangling themselves in his hair. He smiled against her mouth, pleased at such a reaction when the real kissing had yet to even start.

His grazed his tongue along her lip, and she eagerly opened her mouth, letting his tongue slip inside her. The noise she made at the contact buzzed straight through him, and he was pleasantly surprised when Gwyn, in all her eagerness, took control of him.

She kissed him as though she had done it her whole life, like her mouth belonged on his, and the feel of her delicate tongue made him deepen their kiss, angling her head so they could better feel one another. She was practically leaning back, and if this had been a meaningless one night stand she’d have been on her back by now with Azriel’s mouth between her thighs.

She broke away from him, his mouth instinctively following hers as it wanted more, making her gleam in pride.

“I want to change positions,” she said, her hands still wired into his hair.

“Anything you want,” he replied breathlessly.

Azriel didn’t know what to expect, but it was not her getting up and crawling into his lap. She straddled his thighs, and there was no way she wouldn’t be able to feel his erection pressing against her. He did with his hands what any male would do in this situation, and her giggle was enough to know that she’d wanted him to do that.

“Your hands are on my ass,” she laughed.

“Is that okay?”

“Very much so.” She took a deep breath. “Take your shirt off. Please.”

He obliged.

“And you should – you should take off my dress too.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have a slip on underneath.”

His hands shook slightly as they ran up her sides and to her back, undoing each button on her dress. To give her a more authentic experience, he decided to lean in as he did, kissing a new spot on her neck with each button that came undone.

She raised her arms so that he could slip the dress over her head, and he averted his eyes when her slip rode up with it. He didn’t look back until she had adjusted herself. When he did, he nearly fainted.

She was divine in her beauty. He always saw lovely she was, anyone with eyes would. Her body was lean and tight. Her uniform may have hidden it, but she had the power of any warrior in her body. Azriel wondered if she purposefully hid her strength so that it was a secret part of her arsenal. Smart female.

He ran his hands up her spread legs before planting them back on her ass. Unable to resist, he squeezed his hands, making her groan.

“Your hands feel so good,” she gasped. “Do everyone’s hands feel like that, or is it just you?”

He snickered. “Anyone who is worth their weight knows how to make a female feel good.” He bumped her shoulder with his nose. “What would you like me to do now? Do you want to keep kissing?”

“Fuck yes I want to keep kissing.” She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest as she playfully nipped at his bottom lip. “But maybe we could do other things. Even better things.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Gwyn reached behind her and grabbed one of the hands resting on her behind. For the first time since they’d started, she looked nervous. Her legs were shaking, and Azriel was unsure if it was anxiety or anticipation for whatever she had planned.

She guided his hand under his slip until he was cupping her sex.

“You aren’t.” He swallowed hard. “You aren’t wearing underwear.”

She shook her head playfully. “I didn’t think I would need to.”

She pressed his hand into her, and he moaned at the wetness he found. She was so slick for him already, and all they had done was kiss. He did an exploratory brush through her folds, and as at the tip of his finger grazed over her clit, she arched into him, holding on tight to his shoulders.

He started teasing her, obsessed with the little noises she was making at the back of her throat as he did, but he soon realised something.

Usually, when Azriel was with a female, they got progressively more… turned on. Their bodies would react to his touch, and his fingers would be coated in their juices before he even attempted to enter them with either his fingers or his cock.

Gwyn was not.

It seemed the more he touched her, the more it was like her body didn’t want this. For all intents and purposes, she was… drying up?

His hand went still, and he could feel her body instinctively relaxing as his hand left her pussy.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, clinging to him.

“You don’t enjoy this.” He made her look him in the eye, and his throat tightened at how she looked. There were tears lining her eyes and a deep furrow on her forehead.

“I do, I promise I do. I’m just nervous. If we – if we just overcome this one thing-”

“No, Gwyn.”

“Please Azriel,” she said desperately, trying to guide his hand back between her thighs.

As gently as he could, he lifted her from his lap and placed her beside him on the bed. Her breath shuddered, and he couldn’t bear the shattered look on her face.

She didn’t say a word, just stood up and tried to locate her dress. Azriel didn’t even know where he had thrown it, but he stood and stopped her from looking anyway.

“Gwyn…” He grasped her hands in his, towering over her as they faced each other. “I want to do this for you, please believe me when I say that. But maybe we just need to take a few more steps first. Do something else before that.”

“What else is there?” She was dejected, her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what I’m doing Az. And I swear on the Cauldron I want this. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. I’m just so nervous, and I get in my head about everything I do-”

“Hey hey hey, stop that.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and the ropable tension in her body started to ease out. She slumped against him, his arms wrapping around her in an embrace. “This is fine. Great, even.”

“You are such a liar.” She sighed, but at least she returned his embrace, tucking herself into him so they were as close as possible.

He tried to think of ways to salvage the night for her, to give her at least a little bit of what she wanted.

An idea sprang to mind.

“Gwyn?”

“Mmm?”

“Get on the bed. Lie down.”

She looked up at him hopefully. She didn’t need to be told twice. She practically flung herself at the bed, laying down on her back and resting her arms above her head. She grinned at him, and he didn’t miss the way she clenched her thighs together than spread them apart like a silent invitation.

Azriel couldn’t help but brighten at her enthusiasm. He undid the buttons on his pants and kicked them down so he was naked before her.

“I thought we weren’t having sex!” She jolted to her side, holding herself up on her arms and staring at his penis, her eyes practically bulging out of her head at the sight of it.

There were many things Azriel did not like about himself. But he had a damn fine cock.

He laughed at the look on her face and shook his head. “We’re not having sex. I’m not even going to touch you.”

She deflated. “Really? Not even a little bit?”

He followed her to the bed, climbing over her without touching her and planting himself next to her so they were lying side to side. He turned his head to her, and she looked at him curiously.

“We’re not just going to lie here naked, are we? It’s a bit cold for that.”

It was a little chilly. Her nipples were hard under her slip, which had ridden up to her stomach.

“No, but we can get under the blanket if you want.”

Her gaze raked up and down his body. “I’m happy above the blanket.”

They laid in a comfortable silence for a moment, happily taking in each other’s bodies. She was the most exquisite thing he had ever seen, and he was glad to see that their kissing antics had left her dishevelled. He liked that look on her.

“Are you actually not going to touch me?”

“I’m not. I think you should touch yourself.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll touch myself, too. It’ll be a way for us to be more comfortable with each other. For you to be in control of your pleasure.”

“Will you watch me?” she murmured.

“If that’s okay. You can watch me, too.”

She considered his words, and Azriel wondered if this was in fact not the good idea he’d thought he’d had. She pursed her lips, and he knew her answer when she grabbed the hem of her slip and pulled it off, leaving her naked before him.

They stared into each other’s eyes as her hand brushed over her exposed breasts, and Azriel had to hold himself back from taking them in his mouth, from pinching her perked nipples with his teeth. Maybe later, that could come; he thought she would quite like it.

Her right hand kneaded her breast and tweaked her nipple while her left dipped down between her legs. Two fingers ran over her core, and he studied the way she massaged herself so that he could do it to her in the future. At the sight, he tentatively grasped his cock, wanting to make sure that she was truly okay with him touching himself at the vision of her with her fingers dipping inside her, moistening herself before focusing on her clit.

Her eyes flickered to his stroking hand, and her response nearly made him finish then and there like a teenager exploring themselves for the first time. She’d seen him, and lifted her leg so that it was draped over one of his, giving her a better angle on her clit and twining them together.

“I’m used to being quiet,” she shuddered. “So that no one hears me.”

“Be as loud as you want. Scream for me.”

Her hand quickened, and his sack tightened as he matched her speed with his own hand, gripping himself tightly. He moaned so loudly that he was once again thankful that Cassian and Nesta weren’t in the house. Even the magic of the walls mightn’t contain the pleasure pulsing through him as he watched her.

Her legs started to shake, and the little noises she’d made before were no more. Her voice was loud as she no longer held herself back from feeling even ounce of her impending orgasm.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, her hips starting to gyrate against her hand.

“You. All I can think of is you,” Azriel moaned. He pumped himself quicker, his grip becoming harder.

“What about you,” he whispered in her ear. “Are you thinking about what you saw Cassian do to Nesta?”

Her toes curled at his words. “I’m thinking of what I saw them doing, but it’s you and me.”

“What are we doing, Gwyneth?”

Her eyes fluttered shut. Her tongue licked her lips before she bit down on them. “We’re in the library. You have me bent over one of the desks, and you’re taking me from behind. One of your arms is around me, and you’re flicking my clit as I scream your name. You’re so deep in me, Azriel, I can feel every inch of you as I clench around you. Cauldron, you feel so good. The best thing I’ve ever felt, Az.”

His breath hitched, and he felt himself on the brink of coming. What finally did him in was her teeth biting down on his shoulder as she screamed his name, her orgasm making her whole body shake as it overcame over.

When they had both come down from their highs, they laid trying to catch their breath, both their bodies covered in sweat.

“That was amazing,” she sighed, turning to face him.

He grabbed a corner of the unused blanket beneath them to wipe himself off, then turned to face her, an arm going around her waist and his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead and cheek.

He wanted to look at her body, finally relaxed and languid, but his shadows had another idea. They bathed over her like silk, dancing over her curves and crevices, making her laugh.

“I quite like them,” she said, her eyes starting to drift closed.

“Are you tired?”

“Mhmm.” She snuggled into him further, stealing his warmth. His cock responded to her touch, but it was too soon yet to do anything meaningful.

“Move up for a sec.”

“Is that you trying to hint that I should go?” Her voice was joking, but the look on her face said that she’d go if he wanted her too.

“Absolutely not, you’re staying here with me. I’m just grabbing the blanket.”

She moved away just long enough for him to pull the blankets over them and pull her to his chest again.

She made a content noise and closed her eyes to sleep, and Az thought to himself that he didn’t care if this one day ended their friendship, because it might very well be the best time of his life anyway.

***

The next two weeks were filled with them sneaking away and feverishly touching themselves in all sorts of ways. Once, Gwyn sat in his lap naked while they stroked themselves, kissing each other the entire time. Another time, she pleasured herself by grinding against his thigh and he palmed himself – they hadn’t even bothered to take their clothes off. A late-night training session had led to her using a particularly shaped massage tool on herself in very a scandalous way while he watched, near feral at the sight of her pumping into herself. He did not return that item to the training ring, instead he kept it in his bedside drawer for future use.

It wasn’t until sixteen days and countless orgasms into their agreement that Azriel was finally able to touch her.

It had been a busy night. Rhys, Feyre, Nyx, Mor and Emerie were over for dinner, and it had been the most fun Az had had in a group since last solstice. At the table, he’d had Feyre on one side and Gwyn on the other, and her little secret touches to his thigh made him feel warm all over.

It wasn’t necessarily an arousing touch, just an affectionate one. When the group had started to disperse to drink, Nesta the sober adult taking care of Nyx, Az noticed Gwyn sneak away. He promptly followed her, making sure everyone was distracted as he did so no one noticed what they were doing.

Within a few minutes he was between her thighs tasting her. She had mentioned the night before that she wanted his tongue on her, and by the Cauldron was he happy to oblige. She was sitting on the edge of desk in the library that she’d described to him all those weeks ago, and whilst on his knees before her, he jerked himself off as she crumbled beneath his mouth.

Thankfully, by the time they returned, people were far too tipsy to question where they’d been.

Except for Nesta, who looked suspiciously between the two of them. Whatever she was thinking, it was at Gwyn’s behest if she knew anything. It was her decision, always, what happened between them, and if she wanted people to know about their sneakiness, that was for her to decide.

Seven days later is when she first touched him. Until that point it had all been about her, which is what Azriel wanted. They were on his bed, his fingers deep inside her as they kissed, when her hand brushed against his cock. He moved his hips aside, and she broke their kiss off with a noise of indignation.

“Stop swatting my hands away!” She flicked his nose with her finger.

“Huh?” He was still dazed on the sound of his hand gliding through her dripping wet core.

“Do you not want me to touch you?” Her voice was curt.

“I just want this to be about you. I don’t want you to think that I’m only with you for my own sexual gratification. The only thing that matters to me is your happiness, my soul purpose is you. You’re my priority.” He kissed her neck. “My desires are your desires.” Another kiss. “I can’t focus if you’re anything less than panting and satisfied.”

She pursed her lips, a familiar expression at this point. It turned into a joyful smile, and she smacked a kiss to his lips. “That was actually very sweet. After I get you off, I’m going to sit on your face.”

What was even better than the heavy petting and intense make out sessions was the talking. Sometimes for hours they would just tangle themselves together and divulge their life stories. Azriel knew all about her sister and mother – Gwyn confessing that she felt guilt when her twin wasn’t on the forefront of her mind, but sometimes she pushed her away because the memory of her was overwhelmingly devastating. Az wiped her tears away, desperate to see her smile again. But he also knew of all the good times she’d had growing up, and it made him feel alight inside to know how loved she was. Az told her mostly of Rhys and Cassian and the family they had made for themselves, about how it was so hard to be away from his mother, but he wouldn’t have survived another day in his father’s presence. Gwyn cried for him sometimes, and Azriel had never known such empathy from another.

When they were alone in the House, Nesta and Cassian off on one of their sexcations, Gwyn would spend her evenings and nights with him just as a friend, doing housework and menial tasks that she didn’t have to while humming various tunes. Az would tell her to stop working, but she would just grin and say she liked feeling like part of a home too much to not pretend that she lived there too. So he would just hum with her, his shadows dancing and swaying the way they always inevitably did around her. Then they would fall into bed together (or any surface really) until they were spent and exhausted.

Azriel had never known happiness like this.

***

Azriel was buzzing with excitement. He’d left Gwyn wrapped up in his bed, the sun not yet risen, and made sure to leave her some breakfast on his nightstand and the fire burning to keep her warm without his body next to hers. Usually he would wake her up early with his head between her thighs so she could go back to the library, but she had already told the acolytes she roomed with that she would be staying with Nesta, so no need to sneak around when no one was expecting her.

Before they’d gone to sleep the night before, Gwyn said something to him that left him smiling even now as he made his way to Rhys.

I want to have sex, Az. I’m sure. I know I’m safe with you.

Az didn’t know why Rhys needed him, but if it involved leaving Velaris, he would barter for a few more days so that he might be with Gwyn before he left. An odd feeling entered his chest at the thought. He couldn’t name the feeling; he just knew he didn’t want to leave Gwyn alone.

He landed on the doorstep of Feyre and Rhys’ home. Before he had the chance to let himself in, Feyre opened the door, a grave look on her face.

“Quick. Before they start yelling.” Feyre pinched her nose, the other hand holding Nyx on her hip.

Azriel pushed past her, and it wasn’t hard to find the source of Feyre’s frustration.

“Once again you fucking asshole, you need to back off. How dare you-”

“Nes, calm down-”

“Tell me to calm down again Cassian and I’m out of here. As I was saying, how fucking dare you accuse her of such things, Rhysand, High Lord of Shitting me up the Wall.”

“Nesta, for fuck’s sake you’re getting defensive for no reason!”

“No reason?!” she spat, Cassian holding her back before she lunged at Rhys.

“Too late,” Feyre muttered at him as she walked into the office, sitting at the desk to remain neutral in Nesta and Rhysand’s pissing match. Azriel would love to know what had riled them up so much that they were nearly screaming at each other, but any guidance from his brothers was not there.

“You have to admit that it’s suspicious, Nesta!”

Rhys threw his arm at Azriel as he approached, looking triumphant. “Azriel will agree with me.”

“He will not.”

“May I ask what I might need to agree to, or will it remain a mystery as to why you’re yelling so early in the morning?” Az crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for them to stop acting like children.

“Rhys accused Gwyn of being a spy,” Nesta growled.

“You’re twisting my words! I said I’d had reports of her acting strange, of her behaviour being completely different, and I suggested that it was worth looking into. We have to consider the safety of Velaris, and Gwyn would be the perfect plant.”

Azriel was sure Rhys was going to say more, but he was interrupted by Azriel’s uncontrollable fit of laughter. His laughs shook his whole body, and he felt tears in his eyes from how hard his fit was hitting him. He had to bend over to try and catch his breath, clutching at his chest as though his lungs might leap out of it.

“What’s so funny,” Rhys deadpanned.

Azriel shook his head and walked to Nesta, putting an arm around her shoulder.

“Are you serious, Rhys? Gwyn? Gwyenth Berdara?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Both Clotho and Merrill have approached me. Clotho, because she was worried, and Merrill, because she thought that Gwyn was being insubordinate. Clotho has had multiple girls come to her in fear for Gwyn, saying she’s been disappearing at night and coming back early in the morning. They she’s tired, unfocused, and that she’s exceeding every expectation they had for her in training and acting like a different person in the library. This has all been reported over the last month.” Rhys picked Nyx out of Feyre’s arms to calm himself before continuing. “Gwyn knows incredibly sensitive information about us. She helped us with the Trove, she treats the House of Wind like she bloody lives there. She’s awfully comfortable for a person who previous to knowing us refused to leave the library.”

Any humour Azriel felt had been leeched from his body. Nesta’s verbal beating of Rhys had been justified and then some.

“With all due respect, you can go fuck yourself,” he bit at his brother.

Feyre made a noise in the back of her throat and took Nyx back from Rhys before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

Too much swearing for such little ears! she said into their minds as she was leaving.

“What the fuck, Az?” Rhys looked startled.

“I knew he’d side with me,” Nesta said smugly.

“She’s ‘awfully comfortable?’ Yeah, she is, because she found a fucking family. Nesta is like a sister to her, and she’s over at the House a lot not because she’s entitled, but because we want her there. You might not make that much of an effort with Nesta’s friends because of your own personal shit, but Cassian and I consider her a close friend. Accusing her of anything unbecoming, to me, is as bad as if you’d dragged me in here to tell me Cassian was working against us. You sound ludicrous. Also, need I remind you, it’s not your fucking House anymore. Who we have over is none of your damned business.”

Rhys scoffed. “It’s not your House either.”

“Sorry, High Lord Rhysand, I’ll manage my expectations.” Az clenched his jaw at Rhys’ words. He was right. Azriel didn’t technically have any property, neither had Cassian until Rhys had given Nesta the House as a mating gift. Azriel didn’t technically have a home beyond the sky, nothing worth giving to or sharing with another person. Even now, Gwyn was waiting for him in a bedroom that technically wasn’t is. He wouldn’t dare leave though, not when he knew it was one of only two places that Gwyn felt safe in.

“Why are you getting so defensive? You know what I’m saying is reasonable.”

“It would be if we didn’t know her. She is… there are not words to describe her.”

“Yes, there is,” Nesta piqued. “She is competitive. She is feisty. She’s a Valkyrie. She is the kindest soul in Velaris. She is so brave, and strong, and the most selflessly loving person I’ve met in my entire life. If you weren’t so thick headed, you would see that she’s like Feyre in a lot of ways.” Nesta paused. She left Azriel’s side to stand in front of Rhys, her shoulders back and her head high. “If you accuse her of something it would break her heart. I won’t let you hurt her.”

“I would never hurt her, Nesta.” Rhys rubbed a hand over his face. “If you’re so convinced that nothing is going on, can you explain her strange behaviour.”

Nesta turned away from Rhys, so that he couldn’t see her face. When Nesta looked over at Azriel, she didn’t need to say a single word for him to know that she knew the exact reason Gwyn was acting different.

It was because of him.

“I don’t need to explain it because I trust her. I’m also with her nearly every minute of every day. Do you not think I would not notice if she was conniving against us? Or are you truly that foolish?”

“I agree with Nesta,” Cassian said. “She’s either with us training the Valkyries, or she’s working with Nesta in the library. Who cares if she’s a little distracted, we all are sometimes.”

“And you’re sure of this?” Rhys directed his question at Azriel, almost as if he couldn’t trust Cassian and Nesta to be impartial because of how close they were to Gwyn. Huh. If only he knew.

“I have never been surer of anything.”

***

“Azriel, wait.”

Azriel was stalking through the front gardens. He would walk until his head was clear, then he would go home – go to the House of Wind – and spend the morning with Gwyn. Nesta had other plans.

“What is it?”

“Gwyn-”

“-will be safe. I won’t let Rhys near her.”

“I’m not worried about that. What is going on between you two?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not blind. All the things Rhys described? Sure, might be espionage, but it might also just be someone falling in love.”

“We’re not together.” Love? What a preposterous thought. Gwyn had been very clear from the beginning in what she wanted from him. She needed someone to fulfil her physical needs, and Azriel was happy to do so. All the other stuff, the talking and friendship, was just icing.

“Then what are you doing? Setting yourselves up to get hurt?”

“This is a conversation you should have with her.”

“She trusts you so much, Az. Please, don’t do anything that would hurt her. She’s come so far since we met.”

“Nesta, I promise you I couldn’t dream of hurting her. The thought alone makes me feel visceral pain. What we do, what we are, is just her making decisions and doing what she wants. How did you even know there was something going on?”

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I guessed she had a flirtation with someone. I knew it was you from the way she started saying your name.”

Azriel felt his eyes burn, but he did not know why. “The way she says my name?”

“I’ve heard the way she says it a million times. From Cassian and I. From Rhys and Feyre. I can’t describe it beyond that.”

Azriel shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted where he stood. “Have you told Cas?”

“I don’t need to, he knows.”

“So you guys have talked about it?”

“No. I haven’t told him that I know. But I know he knows. And he also knows I know.”

“So he knows you know even though you haven’t told him you know and you know he knows even though he hasn’t said he knows?”

“Exactly,” she laughed. Her smile was more genuine now. It was a look she’d only had since her mating ceremony. It sung contentment, something she, like him, struggled to have.

She came to him and linked their arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Her friendship was invaluable to him, as much as it was a surprise when it first started to form.

“I have one other thing to say, and then I’ll let you go home to Gwyn.”

“Yes, Nesta?”

“The House of Wind is as much as your home as it is mine. You can stay there forever if you want. It is your home, Azriel, and I wouldn’t dream of it being anything else.”

***

Gwyn was awake when Azriel returned home. She was humming a song to herself in bed, wrapped in his blankets like it was a cocoon. She had the breakfast he made for her in her lap, and when he entered the room, she pulled the blanket aside and opened her arms for him to fall into to.

Maybe he still looked stormy after his talk with Rhys, or maybe she just wanted to hold him. Either way, he fell happily into her embrace.

***

Gwyn had set a date. She did not intend to be so clinical about it, she just wanted to give herself a chance to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and she needed a few days to do so.

The month she’d had with Azriel had been… Cauldron, she did not know how to exactly describe it. When she had approached him, she honestly did not think that he would say yes to such a ridiculous idea. But he had, and he’d given her nothing short of the best month of her life. Her cheeks ached from how much she was smiling, and even if she was tired when she worked, she wouldn’t give up her restless nights for anything.

It would also be remiss for her to not acknowledge that perhaps what she had with him was more than an arranged bargain, but any time the thoughts propped up she promptly put them to the side.

She had not gone to see Az last night, needing the time to do extra work so that she could be missed for a day. Or two. Maybe even three.

Gwyn didn’t know how long this marathon might last, but if it were anything like Nesta and Cassian’s, it could be a while.

She had also warned Clotho and the females she shared her room with that she would be staying at the House of Wind for a few days. When asked why, she just said she was doing something with Emerie without going into any detail.

So, tonight it was. She was ready.

She was so fucking ready.

The moment dinner was served in the library she made a run for it, having to physically restrain herself from skipping out of the library. She was so excited, her body literally vibrating with energy, that she didn’t even see Nesta before their bodies slammed together.

They went to a ground in a tangled fumble, and Nesta was too busy laughing to listen to Gwyn’s repeated apologies. The brisk evening air greeted them, the stars starting to peek through the violet dusk as they laid on the path that took them from the library to the training area to the House.

“Well, you made looking for you much easier,” Nesta said, brushing off her dress as she stood. She offered Gwyn a hand, which she gladly took. Nesta started walking towards the House, their hands not dropping as they swung them between them like children.

“Why were you looking for me?”

“Emerie is here with Mor and Feyre. I wanted you to join us for dinner.”

“I have dinner with you every night.”

“I know, but I wanted you to know that you’re not just welcome but also invited.”

Gwyn smiled at Nesta, love for her friend filling her heart.

They approached the House, Nesta’s face falling as they walked in and saw Rhys standing in the middle of the room, confused looks on the faces of Mor and Emerie as everyone just looked uncomfortable.

Nesta’s hands squeezed Gwyn’s, and for just a second it felt like Nesta was about to pull Gwyn right back to the library.

“I’m not sure what the problem is,” Mor said slowly. “We go out in Velaris all the time, why can’t we tonight?”

“You’re more than welcome to, I would just rather stay here,” Azriel replied.

Gwyn knew the look on his face. It was the same look he’d had a few days ago when he’d returned from Mother knows where after Rhys summoned him. Gwyn assumed Azriel had just had to do one of the many hard tasks expected of a spymaster, but perhaps there was something else if his face was a mirror of that again now.

“What’s going on?” asked Nesta.

They all turned to look at them like they were surprised to see them. Not even Azriel had noticed their entrance, although Gwyn self-admitted that Azriel tended to be surprised by her sudden appearances quite often. She didn’t know for sure, but she thought maybe his shadows didn’t bother warning him when she was near. It’s not like she was a danger to the guy.

“Rhys came and said we should try the new restaurant on the Rainbow! The one near Feyre’s studio? I’ve heard really nice things about it, and the family that opened it are really beautiful.” Mor beamed at them all, trying to disperse the odd tension. “And then maybe we could go dancing.”  

The idea sounded wonderful, and Gwyn wistfully wished she could join them. In reality, just the thought of going into the city set her heard racing. The only time she had ever left the library or the House, other than to go to Emerie’s house which landed them in the Bloodrite, was to officiate Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony. Although the memory was one of her most treasured ones, it was not something she thought she would be able to do again. Not yet.

“I’ve heard great things about that place,” Nesta replied, her stomach audibly grumbling at just hearing about the exquisite food it might receive.

“You are all more than welcome to go.” Azriel swept a hand out between them. “But I don’t want to.”

His gaze flickered to Gwyn, and suddenly the eyes of everyone were on her.

A blanket of understanding washed over the room. Most eyes were understanding, Mor’s held the pity that Gwyn hated, and Rhys looked indifferent, if not satisfied.

Azriel’s resistance became evident. It wasn’t just that it was the night, their night, but he didn’t want her to be left alone whilst everyone else galivanted through the city having the time of their lives when they knew she wouldn’t be able to join them.

“I don’t want to go either. It’s been a long week and I’m tired,” said Nesta.

Gwyn narrowed her eyes at her lying sister but couldn’t hold it in her heart to be angry. In face, she had to stop it from swelling with how loving their words felt. They didn’t want her to be alone. They wanted to stay with her.

“You know,” spoke Emerie softly, “I can’t imagine anywhere making food as well as the House.”

Mor’s eyes shot to Emerie, and Gwyn wondered if she was imagining the slight betrayed look in them.

“Guy’s, c’mon. Rhys and I made a reservation, they’re expecting us! It would be rude not to go,” Mor pleaded.

Azriel opened his mouth to snap back, but Gwyn interrupted. “She’s right. You should go enjoy yourselves.”

“But Gwyn-”

“It’s okay, Nesta. Please, I really think you should all go.” She made a point to look at Azriel. “It sounds like it would be a lot of fun.”

“It’s not fair to arrange activities that we can’t all participate in.” Azriel’s voice had softened as he looked at her, and if she didn’t have better self-control she would stride over and plant a kiss on his pouting lips.

“How could Mor have known that Gwyn would be here? It’s not her fault,” Rhys interjected.

“That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard-”

“Stop, just stop.” Gwyn clutched her hands in front of her and stepped away from Nesta. She needed them to see her as an adult, as someone who was strong and to be taken seriously. “It’s fine. Really, truly. I have a lot to do anyway.” She turned to Feyre and waved her fingers at Nyx. “If you would like, I can take care of him so you can enjoy some grown-up time.”

For a second Feyre looked hopeful, but then she schooled her face into neutrality. Rhys stepped between the two, and Feyre had to put an arm on his shoulder.

As if to stop him stepping any further.

Gywn blinked, feeling like she should blanch away but not sure as to why.

“That won’t be necessary,” Rhys said. She’d heard him use that voice before. It was his political voice. His I-have-an-agenda voice. Now it was her turn to look confused.

“No worries,” Gwyn whispered.

She looked away from the High Lord’s searing gaze and back to her friends. She hoped her face didn’t speak of her sadness.

“Please go. I would feel awful if any of you stayed on my part. If anything, by going and having a great time you’d be doing me a favour, because I wouldn’t feel guilty.”

“You could always just come with us,” Mor said, tucking her hair behind her ears in a way that was comically similar to how the ‘popular’ girls in her smutty books would behave.

Gwyn bit her lip, thinking about it. Of course, logically, she would be safe. They would all be there, Azriel would be there, but she genuinely felt like she might vomit at the thought. A bead of sweat dripped down her back, and she despised how her eyes stung with tears. She breathed the way her and Nesta had learnt from Valkyrie texts and pulled herself back to reality. Sometimes the logic of actions did not dictate how you would feel, or react, to a situation. Gwyn reminded herself once more to be kinder to herself.

“Thank you for the offer, Mor, but I am happy here.” Gwyn smiled brightly at them all, and they seemed to relax – all but Az and her sisters.

She shooed them out of the House, hoping that one day she would be able to join them.

***

It was odd. Gwyn had spent much time over the last few years alone, but it had never affected her. And although the House was quite good company – it had dinner and dessert ready for her with a box of tissues and chocolates even before Cassian had finally flown off with the resistant Nesta – it wasn’t the same as spending time with someone who could talk back to you.

She only just made it through her meal when she crawled into Azriel’s bed, hoping the scent of him would make her feel better.

It didn’t, but the sight of his room did. There were unlit candles lining the room, and flowers adorning every surface. The cheeky male had even installed a mirror on the ceiling above the bed, and she blushed profusely at the implications.

He had tried to make it romantic, and she adored him for it.

She had no idea when he would be back, and she scolded herself for wishing it would be sooner rather than later. She wanted him to be out and about with his family, even if it made her burn with envy that everyone would be able to enjoy him but her.

She rolled over, stuffing her face into his pillow and groaning. She should take off her day clothes and resign herself to pyjamas. Maybe she should sleep in a different bedroom so as to not torture herself with what this night could have been.

Her night with Az. The night with Az.

“That’s it. I am so over this,” she said aloud before springing up. She stomped out of the room and towards Nesta’s, flinging her closet open to inspect her clothes.

It was just a restaurant. It was safe. She would be fine. Besides, how could she overcome her fears if not to face them? She had gone to Emerie’s and survived. She had gone to Nesta’s mating ceremony and survived. She had won the bloody Bloodrite!

As she looked through the dresses, she quickly realised they wouldn’t fit. They would hang loose at her hips and chest, where Nesta was beautifully endowed and she was not.

“Not to worry, I’ll just take a coat then.” Taking the first one she saw, light but soft enough that warmth wouldn’t be an issue, Gwyn shoved her shoes on approached the door that led to the ten thousand steps that would take her to Velaris. She didn’t know where to go from there, but she knew in her heart of hearts that she would be able to find her friends with enough willpower. And since meeting Nesta and Emerie, since being empowered by the strongest females she knew and since empowering herself, she knew she had that willpower in abundance.

“Let’s fucking do this.”

***

She didn’t know at what point the House had left her, its omnipresence not connected to the stairs, but she was doing just fine even if she felt its absence. She counted in her head to keep track of where she was.

One thousand. Feeling good. Coat in arms.

Two thousand. Out of breath but in a good way.

Three thousand. Fucking shit.

Four thousand. Maybe she should turn around.

Five thousand.

Six thousand. How has Nesta done this multiple times?

Seven thousand. She had this! This was easier than Ramiel!

Eight thousand. If she died here no one would find her.

Nine thousand.

Ten. Fucking. Thousand.

Gwyn realised that there was no way she’d be able to eat with them. They would be having dessert if they hadn’t already moved on. She just needed to find them.

As Gwyn took the last step, her toes touched the streets of Velaris for the very first time.

It was so beautiful she thought she might cry. There was colour everywhere, the laughter of adults and children alike, and she could smell delicious food as the many restaurant’s wide-open doors let the scents pour into the streets. The faelights lining the streets reminded her of the stars she often gazed at with Azriel, the thought of him like a caress to her mind.

Azriel loved Velaris, would die for this city if he had to. How could she been afraid of something he loved so much?

She took one step. Then one more. She was sure to anyone that glanced her way she must have looked like a lunatic, her eyes wide in wonder as she moved at a snail’s pace, Nesta’s coat bundled in her arms because after all those steps she didn’t need it.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, equal parts fear and excitement, as she walked through the city. She got a few odd looks, but she could see it was out of curiosity for a newcomer in a city that had been locked down for centuries, and not for violence. She wasn’t leered at or bothered. In fact, the only time someone even talked to her was when a toddler sprinted from his mother’s side, his legs too quick for his body to keep up, and he fell into her.

The mother apologised profusely but Gwyn didn’t care at all. How could she be mad at the pudgy little baby?

It was easy to find her way to a district clearly dedicated to all things food. If possible, she slowed down even more. She peeked inside every restaurant looking for the four sets of wings that would set her friends apart from everyone else.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of searching but was probably closer to forty minutes, she saw them.

Azriel and Rhys were standing outside the restaurant Mor must’ve been talking about. Light and music drifted from its open windows, the streets still full of roaming people. Gwyn knew they wouldn’t be able to see her yet, and she wondered how she should approach them.

Azriel… did not look happy, and the tense set of Rhys’ shoulders and back let her know that his face likely looked the same, even if he was facing away from her.

Before she could think of a strategy, Azriel looked up, his eyes meeting hers.

Gwyn could not describe the feeling that filled her as they drunk in one another. Still standing twenty steps from him, his gaze made her feel like she was wrapped in his arms.

She raised one hand in a wave, and it was like Rhys didn’t exist at all.

Azriel shoved him to the side, Rhys making an indignant sound as he did. He ran to her, and she dropped Nesta’s coat so she could wrap her arms around him as they crashed together. People in the streets backed off at Azriel’s display, and in that moment she couldn’t have cared less about where she was, as long as she was with him.

His wings wrapped around her, creating a shield between them and the outside world.

“Gwyn.”

“Hey Az,” she whispered, her arms around his neck and his face tucked to her shoulder.

“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He straightened and brushed the hair from her face. It had stuck to her skin from how much she had sweat while taking the stairs, but she didn’t care how she looked. She knew he certainly never would.

He looked ready to fight an invisible threat, and it made her throb in unspeakable places.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just – I. Um.” She hadn’t rehearsed what she would say to him, but it’s not like she could blurt out Hey! Just wanted to near you at all times and rub my body against yours!

“Did something happen? What do you need me to do?”

She shook her head. “No, no, Az, really, I’m fine. I just regretted not coming out with you all.”

He must have been able to see the honesty on her face and smile, because he relaxed, his wings folding back.

The look on his face was adorable as the realisation dawned on him that she was here for him.

“Did I miss everything? Are you all done?”

He didn’t answer, but he did look behind him. Rhys was standing there with his mouth open, his face laced with something Gwyn couldn’t put a name to. Before she could greet him, Rhys stormed back into the restaurant.

Azriel turned back to her, and he didn’t hesitate when he lifted her chin and kissed her.

She gasped but reciprocated zealously. She pushed her body into his, and his arms went around her as he lifted her off her feet, cradling him to her as he kissed her like she was the wind that let him embrace the skies. He tasted like air, like gold, like this was his final breath and he was he was sharing it with just her.

***

Azriel sat with Gwyn while the rest of their friends danced. She hid it well, but he could tell that she was nervous being in this new environment.

She had been so good, so brave when she went into the restaurant and greeted Azriel’s family. Nesta and Emerie jumped up when they saw her, and Nesta held her tightly while Emerie rushed to get another chair. Nesta was trying to be subtle, but Azriel saw the happy tears she shed as she held Gwyn. Emerie then insisted that Gwyn sit and eat her strawberry and mango cheesecake with her, which earned an inexplicable scowl from Mor. Interesting.

Once Gwyn was satisfied and protesting the consumption of more food, they all walked together to one of the classier bars Nesta used to frequent so they could go dancing. Everyone was light as a feather, except Rhys, but life was hard as a fucking asshole, so Az wasn’t surprised he was feeling surly.

And now here they were. Azriel and Gwyn seated with the others dancing to their hearts content. Mor was spinning around with a giggling Nyx, Feyre and Rhys were swaying but it was obvious they were speaking to each other through their daemati bond, and Emerie and Nesta were terrorising Cassian in a three-way dance.

“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked, his shadows silent to her moods. If it had been anyone else, he would have known she was coming to the restaurant before she’d even left the House. But his shadows didn’t like to spy on her and revelled in him being surprised by her.

“I feel good.” Her gaze was focused on the dance floor, and Azriel glanced over to see what was so entrancing.

Nesta and Cassian were finally dancing alone, Emerie now with Nyx and Mor. The way Cassian and Nesta were grinding on each other was nothing short of pornographic as they moved into the shadows of the dance floor. Nesta’s back was to Cassian, his hands clasped on her hips as his lips were on her neck as she pushed her ass back against him.

Azriel snorted. They’d be fucking in an alley within the next fifteen minutes.

“Do you want to dance like that, Gwyneth?”

She turned to him, a lovely flush spreading from her face to her chest. “No,” she said unconvincingly. She slid her chair closer to his, the bar stool so high she had to hop onto it to sit. It was frightfully cute, and Azriel had to restrain from kissing her again.

He couldn’t help it in the street. The sight of her – rumpled, breathless, her face alight with joy – was too much for him.

She was beginning to be too much for him.

The longer he was with her, the more of her he was allowed to have, the more he feared he could never go back to just a simple friendship. This female would either be his salvation or his ruination, either of which he would happily accept if it meant he could savour every minute he had left with her.

Under the table, she linked their hands, and Azriel thought he might very well die from the touch.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to enjoy our plans.” He rubbed his thumb against her finger.

She smiled his way, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “It’s okay.” She looked down, biting her lip. “I went to your room. I saw what you had done.”

He swallowed hard. “Did you like it?”

She removed her hand from his and placed it on his thigh. “I loved it.”

He shifted in his seat, glad that the tablecloth was long enough so that anyone around, if they looked, would only see their ankles. “You’re playing with fire right now,” he chucked under his breath as she continued to stroke his thigh.

“I especially liked the mirror on the ceiling. May I ask, what purpose does it serve?” Her smile may have been all innocent, but the way her hand was moving was anything but.

She leant against him so they were touching shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.

“It was for your pleasure.”

“Is that right?”

He brushed his lips to her ear, grateful that the dim lights of the bar kept them in the shadows and that the dancing bodies kept their scents hidden. And over the live music, no one would hear them. “Mhm. It was so that, no matter what position I put you in, you could watch me.”

She tipped her head back, humming in acknowledgement. Her hand, already in dangerous territory, swept down his increasingly hard length.

He grunted, laying both his hands on the table and fisting the cloth.

“Is this okay?” she asked, breathless.

He nodded, taking a swig of his drink to distract him.

She brushed her hand down again, bolder this time, and he squirmed in his chair.

“I would take it out, but I fear it would be seen over the table. So inside it stays,” she sighed. “It must be hard being so large.” She put her lips to his ear, mimicking what he had done to her. “I do love it though. The size, the taste, I think about it constantly.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he choked out. “But at least I’d die happy.”

Her hand slipped inside his pants, and he couldn’t help but thrust up into her hand. He tilted his head back in pleasure as she worked him, getting the angles just right as she pumped him. He was unbelievably aroused by the public act, barely able to believe that she’d do something so audacious. But Cauldron have mercy, he would do anything if it meant she was touching him. She could ask to ride him right now in the middle of this bar and he would blissfully indulge.

“I’m going to finish soon,” he warned her.

“I can’t wait for you to finish in me.”

Her words were his undoing, and he felt the edge of the table splinter under his grip as he contained his moan of pleasure.

He stared at her as she pulled her hand from him, offering him a serviette to clean himself like she hadn’t just given him a mind-blowing orgasm where anyone could have seen.

“Az?” she asked after a few, content minutes of silence.

“Yes, Gwyneth?”

“Do you think we could go dance?”

***

Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she had been this relentlessly happy. Azriel flew her and Emerie back to the House of Wind, the latter looking forlorn as they finally left the bar in the small hours of the morning.

Rhys and Feyre had left much earlier, Nyx too small to stay up that late, and if Gwyn was being honest she was surprised they lasted as long as they did. Feyre seemed fine, but Rhys was in a shocking mood. Every time she asked Azriel about it, he just muttered about Rhys being a jerk without elaborating. She could tell that whatever it was, it was sensitive, so she didn’t push him.

Her and Nesta put a very intoxicated Emerie to bed, stripping her and putting her into some pyjamas before tucking her in nice and tight with some herbs on her nightstand that would help her head in the morning. Azriel and Cassian had already gone to their respective bedrooms, and Gwyn contemplated how she was going to sneak into Azriel’s room when Nesta stopped her.

“Can we talk for a second?”

“Of course.”

Nesta led her to the library, and they plopped themselves onto one of the plush couches. Gwyn faced her as she sat, tucking her feet under Nesta’s thighs to keep them warm.

Two hot chocolates appeared to them on a table, a dish of marshmallows to the side. They whispered their thanks to the House, claiming the warm drinks. Gwyn pressed hers up against her face, liking the warmth on her skin.

“What do you want to talk about?” Gwyn asked, taking a sip.

“Azriel. You. You and Azriel.” Nesta patted her shin, and Gwyn put her drink down. This wasn’t a hot chocolate kind of conversation.

“I don’t know what you’re talk-”

“Do you love him, Gwyn? Because if you did, or even if you don’t, you don’t have to sneak around Cassian and I and pretend nothing is happening. You can live here, forever if you want. All four of us in the House.”

“Nesta-”

“Imagine if we both had our families and babies here. It’s a big place, we wouldn’t get in each other’s way. And maybe Emerie could come too and she could fall in love too and we’d all be so happy. Okay, I’m rambling and that was weird. What I’m trying to say is – is that you can Azriel are so obviously together and I’m wracking my brain trying to figure out why you’re keeping it a secret from us, not that I care that you have secrets you’re an adult and you don’t have to tell me everything, and I’m so fucking happy for you, Gwyn, and I want you to know that you can be publicly happy, if you want.”  

“Nesta…”

“I just love this. You and him. I’ve never seen Azriel so happy and you just smile all the time. And, oh, it reminds me of Cassian. In the way that I can see ourselves reflected in you two, and I wonder if maybe if I hadn’t been so,” she gestured at her head, “you know, then I could have just been this happy from the start of us, with him, like you two. So I need you to know that if you want that, if you want him, I am so incredibly supportive and I will do anything you want if it means you get your happily ever after. Okay, I’m done.”

“Nesta.”

“And I also would just love to know how this all began. Like the secret little smiles and observations that I’ve had for as long as I’ve known you just changed one day. And I know you guys used to train alone sometimes and I know you were always here with him, and me and Cas but I can’t pinpoint when your friendship turned into this.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I really am done now.”

“Are you sure?” Gwyn pinched her cheek lovingly, and Nesta swatted it away.

“Yes.”

Gwyn took a second to think about her words, and as nice and idyllic as they sounded, Gwyn wasn’t sure they were the truth.

“Nesta, we aren’t together.”

“What?”

“We have a…” Gwyn struggled to find the words. “Deal? Agreement?”

“A sexy agreement?”

Gwyn laughed. “No. Well, yes actually.” She launched into the story of how her and Azriel had started their bargain, detailing how Azriel had agreed to help her overcome her fear, and how much they practised towards her ultimate goal of sex. Gwyn also expressed how their closeness was something she treasured, as spending so much time together naturally led to a deepening in their friendship. Her face stained pink as she told her of some of the things they had done, but how, after over a month together, that hadn’t actually sealed the deal.

Nesta was silent the entire story, letting Gwyn speak her truth. She was contemplative over Gwyn’s words, not saying anything until she was done speaking.

“Before I say anything, I want to let you know how incredibly proud of you I am, and how much I support wanting to explore yourself and your sexuality. No matter what I say, I need you to know that.”

Well, that wasn’t a good start.

“I understand, Nesta.”

“Gwyn, do you love him?”

Gwyn took a deep breath. It was a topic she often pushed from her mind, unable or not wanting to broach the subject. “I don’t know.”

“It’s a yes or no, Gwyn.”

Gwyn shrugged her shoulders. “What if it’s a ‘I’m not sure because I so thoroughly blurred the lines between what was real and what I asked him to do to help me?’ What if it’s a ‘I don’t know if I could say it to him but if he said it to me, I would say it back in an instant?’”

“Do you know how he feels about you? Has he said anything?”

Gwyn shook her head. “I know we’re friends. I know he cares about me. I know he would do anything I asked of him. I know he must love me, in some way, but I don’t know if it’s love-love or platonic love.”

“And he’s never given any sort of indication of his intentions?”

Gwyn pondered how thoughtful he was, how detail oriented he was to her pleasure and how he was the best part of her day. And as she thought about it, about him, who was so caring and lovable and agreeable, and she realised that a lot of what he did for her – the comfort, the talking, the support – he would do for anyone.

“I’ve never asked.” Her breath shuddered, and Nesta put a hand to her cheek.

“Maybe you should.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way as I do? What if I’m just an obligation?”

“Oh, my love.” Nesta repositioned them so that Gwyn was lying down, her head in Nesta’s lap, as Nesta lovingly stroked her hair. It reminded Gwyn so much of what Catrin used to do that she couldn’t help the tears that started to shed.

“It’s better to know what you are to him. If it’s any consolation, I think he cares about you a great deal. Maybe even loves you. It’s hard to tell when he’s naturally so cold.”

He wasn’t cold, she wanted to say, he was the warmest person she knew. Instead, she cried, and she let Nesta comfort her like she always did.

***

A few days passed, and although Gwyn never left the House, her sexual relations with Az didn’t progress. Rather, they stopped altogether. He didn’t mind at all, he was just glad for her company. They talked and trained, and Azriel was surprised that somehow he could be even more impressed of her than before.

She also started doing what he called her ‘casual kisses.’

They would be doing something monotonous, like sorting weapons for training the next day, and she could kiss him as she walked by him. Or they would be sitting in bed reading, and she would lean over and brush her lips to his temple.

It became a game, who could casually kiss the other first if the opportunity arose, and it was the best game Az had ever played.

He felt himself looking forward to the nights even if the only touching they did was cuddling until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. Azriel wondered if this is what home felt like.

It was late, and Gwyn decided that she needed to return to the library before people started to question where she was. Az didn’t have the heart to tell her they already were.

“I had the most interesting conversation with Nesta the other day,” she said as they reached the door that would take her away.

“What about?”

Gwyn fiddled with her fingers, trepidation oozing from her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worry starting to maw at him.

“I’m fine.” She turned to face him, and he took the opportunity to kiss her on her hairline. He loved the height different between them, it made him feel bigger than he was. “Nesta asked me about us. She has suspected for a while.”

He schooled his face into neutrality. As far as Gwyn knew, this was new information to him.

He hadn’t told her a word of what had happened between them and Rhys, and it would stay that way. All it would do was hurt her, and Azriel was serious when he said no harm would ever come her way from him. She did not need to know that Rhys was acting like a tool.

In more ways than one. Azriel didn’t need to read minds to know that Rhys was highly suspicious of them both. And more so, as much as it pained him to admit, how much Rhys disapproved. He wasn’t sure why, and he couldn’t bear to ask, but he had a good idea. Rhys, as much as he loved Az, must know that he would never be good enough for Gwyn. The idea had plagued him for days, and the only thing that drove away the dark thoughts were the casual kisses Gwyn would bestow upon him.

“How do you feel about that?” he asked her, snapping back to their conversation.

She shrugged. “At first I was worried, but now I’m actually kind of relieved.”

“Why were you worried?”

“You know, it’s weird. I had it in my head that if people knew I was on this mission to achieve some ultimate, empowering orgasm that they might judge me. But Nesta never would, and I felt like an idiot as soon as she looked at me and told me she knew we were,” she gestured between them, “touching.”

Az snickered. “Touching is one way to sum it up.”

“She asked me something I couldn’t answer.”

“What was that?”

“She asked me what we are.” She brushed her hands over his chest absentmindedly. “What I am to you.”

He clasped her hands and held them to his heart, trying to make her look at him when she was purposefully focusing on the floor.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her the truth. That I don’t know what I am to you.”

“Gwyn…”

“I need to say something, and I beg you not to interrupt until I’m done.” She sniffled, and he hated the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away, facing him with steel. “I genuinely approached you with nothing but friendship in mind. I had a plan, to sleep with you once and then go back to how we always were before – me, as your overly competitive but absolute best student, and you as, as this God of a man that I could not believe even walked the same existence as me, let alone be someone I considered a friend. You were my ribbon Az. The thing I wanted to be as good as. And then you said yes to me. I didn’t expect you to. I half-thought you would laugh because you thought I was joking. But you didn’t, and you said yes, and I have made the grave mistake of developing feelings I swore to myself I wouldn’t.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but she put a hand over his mouth before he could.

“I had every intention of having sex with you until Nesta asked me what I was to you. And then I realised that if all I was to you was a proposition to uphold, I couldn’t do it. I can’t be with you just once. I can’t be just friends if we take that last step. So, Az, I’m asking you, and please don’t feel obligated to say anything you don’t feel, but what am I to you?”

He couldn’t breathe. His chest felt like his ribs were being ripped apart and then shoved back together until his lungs were caged too tightly. He knew what he wanted to say, that of course she was more than that, she was everything, but then he thought of her spirit being crushed by his inadequacies, and how she could do so much better now that she was ready to. She was pure, she was light, and she deserved more than his darkness.

He had been quiet too long.

Watching her was like watching a porcelain doll shatter after being dropped. Her face crumbled, and she pulled her hands away from him as she tried to contain herself.

“You’re my best friend.” He finally said, his own tears stinging at his eyes. “I can’t lose you.” Which he would, if she stayed with him and realised how truly broken he was.

A sob fractured her chest, and Az hated the way her voice sounded when she spoke. “You’re my best friend, too.”

And then they were kissing. It tasted like salt from their tears and was more passionate and heart-wrenching than any of the kisses they’d had before. They were drowning, their only hope at salvation one another as they clung to each other with all the strength they had.

Azriel didn’t want to let her go. He knew once he did that it would be over. His month of bliss, of final contentment, would be over. Part of him wished Nesta had never opened her mouth, or that he’d been able to tell the truth, but all of him wished that he was someone else, or that he was more like his brothers, so that he was good enough for her.

When they finally stopped kissing, it was not so she could leave. They still clung to each other, breathing in each other’s scents, well into the night.

When she whispered goodbye, part of his soul left with her as she walked away.

He lied to her by staying silent. He should have told her the truth, that what he was feeling went deeper than affection, maybe even deeper than love. But this lie protected her, and he would take it to his grave.

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

“Did we fuck last night?” Smut starter w/ our baby boy Santiago ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ love your work :)

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt and the kind words! I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for every reblog, comment, and like. 

Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x F! Reader 

Warning: 18 + (For language, oral (F! Receiving), vaginal sex, alcohol use NSFW

My Masterlist 

Last Night at the Party 

Unknown number: Good Morning. 

You: ...Morning...who is this? 

Unknown number: Santiago Garcia, ya know Frankie's friend. 

Fuuuuucccckkkkk

Santiago Garcia: Quick question...did we fuck last night? 

You groan and fall back into the bed, your hand thrown over your eyes as the sunlight fights to sneak through the crack in the curtains. Your head pounds from the amount of alcohol you consumed the night before. Frankie and his fiancé, not wanting to be apart even one night, had a joint bachelor/bachelorette party. 

You worked in the front office at the tour office. Frankie flew for and had quickly become fast friends. He was funny, sweet, and a wonderful friend. But with Frankie came Santiago Garcia, the man who stalked your dreams. He was handsome as fuck, with salt and pepper curls and deep brown eyes. His arms always straining against the fabric of his t-shirts. The man had an ass that was simply divine. Many a night, you had dreamt of kneading it in your hands as he slammed into you. 

But he never noticed you. Not at least in the way you wanted to be seen. You tried on the days you knew he would be coming by. Wearing tighter clothes or shorter dresses and attempting your best at flirting. The only thing gained by any of this was Frankie's amusement as he slung an arm around your shoulder and told you there were better men than Pope. 

That's another thing, the nickname; Pope. You once asked Frankie about it jokingly. Frankie told you it was because Santi in the army brought people closer to God, and all the women he fucked. You had just about given up all hope, till last night. 

********

The party was in full swing when you arrived—wearing a dark blue halter dress that stopped just above your knees, converse, and a black leather jacket. Frankie and his fiancee greeted you with a hug and gave you the rundown of the land. It was casual. They had rented out a private space in the local brewery. You could order anything on the menu and open bar. Thank fuck for that as you watched Santiago flirt with some redhead at the bar. 

You walk down to the opposite end, sit down, motion for the bartender, and ask for an IPA. You try everything in your power to keep from looking over at him, but your eyes stray without your knowledge. Gazing around at the way the denim hugs him in all the right places, the top buttons on his shirt opened up to see the sun-kissed skin peeking through. It's almost magnetic the way his eyes drift up to meet yours across the sea of strangers. You see him smile and turn back to his partner before he grabs his beer and heads over to you. 

"Is this seat taken?" his deep baritone snaps you out of your head, and you look at him, nodding. "You're the girl who works in Frankie's office, right? The secretary?" 

"Yep, that's me, the secretary," you take a deep drink from your beer and try to keep the passive aggression out of your tone, turning snarky instead. "And you're that guy who comes and talks to Frankie and interrupts my office with idle chit chat." 

He looks a little taken aback, but he brushes it off, grinning, "I never knew you had this much fire in you. What's your name?" 

You roll your eyes, "I have told you my name on four separate occasions, and now you want to know it again? Why don't you guess?" 

"Okay," he smiles, taking a drink, "how about ginger?" 

"I think your thinking about your friend on the other side of the bar," you laugh and gesture for another drink. 

"Fuck," he mumbles under his breath, going through a plethora of names, none of which is your own. You've finished two beers before he actually guessed your first name correct—each name sinking the knife deeper and deeper into your chest. 

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner," you sarcastically chime, and he smiles, a real genuine broad smile. Fuck him and his perfect smile. "With how many names you had to guess, I'm actually delighted you never noticed me. I'd probably have an STD." He spits out the drink in his mouth, coughing and patting his chest with his fist. 

He laughs, looking at you wide-eyed, "I do not have any fucking diseases. I get tested regularly." 

"When was the last time?" you can tell he's thinking back. 

"Tuesday," he says triumphantly, "and I haven't fucked anyone since then so." He takes another sip of his drink, grinning at you over the glass. 

"So if I wanted to fuck you, it would have to be tonight?" You casually sip your drink, staring at him, bold from the alcohol flowing through your system. 

He sputters and coughs again, choking on his drink. "Are you trying to kill me?" he puts a hand to his forehead and looks at you. "Are you serious?" 

"I want you to fuck me Santiago," you take his hand down the rest of your drink and pull him towards the back of the brewery. Your eyes connect with Frankie, and you give him a wink pulling a shit-eating grinning Santi behind you. He walks past you and pulls you into the cold night air of the alley. 

It was dark and deserted; the country music blaring from inside echoed off the exterior's red brick wall. For an alley, it was relatively clean. The sidewalk to the public wasn't visible from around the dumpsters. Not the most romantic spot, but when Santiago latched his lips onto the soft skin below your ear. The spicy scent of his cologne overwhelming your senses. 

"Does that feel good?" he whispers huskily in your ear, nipping the lobe lightly. The moan you release has him smiling against your skin, "that's a yes," he chuckles. 

"Stop teasing me," you whine as he gropes your breast through the thin fabric of your dress. He pulls away from your neck and tilts your chin up to look at him. 

"Do you want this?" he whispers, a ghost of his lips on your lips. 

You don't answer, only lunging forward and recapturing his lips in a moan. He uses the opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth. You fight in a battle for dominance that he eventually wins. His hands moving beneath the shell of your leather jacket and running over the smooth skin of your exposed back. 

He takes his time moving down to your cheek, your neck, and then sucking hard into the skin of your collarbone. You are sure to have bruises tomorrow, but at this point, you don't fucking care. His hands move further down and cup your ass before moving under your dress, sliding your panties down slowly, he unlatches from your sensitive skin. Dropping to his knees and groaning, pulling down your panties over your converse before pocketing them. 

He throws your dress over his head and dives into your folds, his tongue working against your throbbing clit. You grab the side of the dumpster as you feel the scuffle from his face, scratch against your thighs, as he rocks his tongue back and forth over you. "Fuck," you moan as you feel him slip one thick finger slide into your pussy. Your head drops back, hitting the brick wall. He chuckles, and the vibrations draw another deep moan from inside as you pant. 

The sound of the backdoor of the brewery opening snaps your head to the side. Your bottom half is covered from the dumpster, and you frantically hit Santi on the head. Still, he doesn't stop, instead adding a second finger, stretching you deliciously. Frankie's signature cap pops out into the alley, and he turns to look at you. You try your best to smile and bite down hard on your tongue, almost drawing blood as he sucks your clit into his mouth. 

"Hey! We're about to do speeches, and Santi's my best man. Have you seen him?" 

"N-n-no," you stutter, and Santi reaches a hand on your ass to push you even further into his mouth. "We came out here to talk, but he left like five minutes ago? Maybe he went out f-f-front." 

Frankie looks at you, questioningly, "Are you okay? You're acting kind of strange." 

You yelp, throwing a hand down on top of the dumpster with a laugh, "I am just fantastic, you know, if I see Santiago, I will be sure to tell him he's needed." 

"Okay, thanks," he throws out a wave going back inside with a click of the door. 

"Such a good girl," Santi chuckles from beneath your dress, and you feel yourself cum all over his tongue gushing around him as he adds a third finger pulsing inside you. 

You bite down hard on your lip, and he keeps licking and fucking you with his mouth. His nickname making more and more sense as you literally feel closer to God. You dig your fingers into his curls and pull his mouth away. Dragging him up to kiss you again, you taste yourself on his tongue, and it makes you even wetter. 

He steps back and unbuttons his jeans pulling out his cock. He's thick and rigged, the tip spewing pre-cum. He grabs his wallet and pulls out a condom making you giggle. "Hey, every good soldier comes prepared," he laughs, pulling it on. 

He pushes you back further into the brick, bringing your legs up around his waist and bunching your dress up. He lines himself up, and you look into his eyes, stifling a scream as he slams into you. You've never felt so full in your entire life, clenching around him as he starts to slowly rock into you. 

You converse crossed against his back as he kisses you again slowly and passionately. Not the quick fuck you thought he would give you. For the location and the time, it was strangely intimate. "Are you okay?" you pants against your neck. 

"Yes," you gasp as he hits inside you just right, "just, please don't stop." He pulls away from your neck and kisses you again, licking into your mouth. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna treat you right." He picks up the place and reaches down between you to your sensitive clit rubbing it in time with his thrusts. 

"Oh fuck, right there, Pope," you moan, and he picks up the pace. The brick digging into your back as he furiously fucks into you. Your orgasm slams into you without warning, and you tug on his curls, throwing your head back as you stile a scream. 

"Yes, cum for me," he praises you through a second orgasm. Three more thrusts and he's cumming, biting down on your exposed shoulder as he groans. You both come down from your high, and he pulls away, smiling at you. You laugh at his mused hair, lipstick smeared across his face, he looks freshly fucked, and you feel a sense of pride knowing you did that to him. 

The awkward, you've just fucked a mutual acquaintance in an alley moment comes faster than you anticipate. He pulls out and ties off the condom throwing it in the dumpster and pulling up his jeans, relatching them. You straighten your appearance the best you can. Running your fingers through your mused hair. You search the alley floor for your panties hoping to throw them away or better burn them when you hear a whistle. 

Santi is standing before the back door holding your panties on the crook of his finger and smiling. "I have to go back and give my speech, but after… I would really love to buy you a drink. Maybe we can go back to my place for another couple of rounds?" 

You bite your lip, nodding, and he smiles, pocketing your panties and going inside. The door latches, and you sigh, closing your eyes and trying not to freak out. The door slams open; you jump as Santi runs back out and closes the distance kissing you again. The kind of kiss you feel down to the tips of your toes. He places his forehead against yours. "I really want to see you again, don't run away, okay?" he whispers before kissing you again and running back inside. 

**********************

You look at the text message again. The perfect night of passion with Santiago, and he doesn't even remember if you...The phone chimes again. 

Santiago Garcia: I'm a moron. I don't know why I said that. I know that we did. It was one of the most incredible moments of my life. 

You: Then what the fuck, Santiago?

Santiago Garcia: I want to take you to breakfast, on a date. It's the least you could do after bailing on me last night. 

You: Well, I'm not sure I want to. 

Santiago Garcia: Well, that makes this awkward. 

You: What? 

Knock Knock 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @a-seeker-of-imagination @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @letoartreiides 

Also tagging @josepedropascal Oscar Train toot toot 

[botheringlevi]

We want to know more about you, that's all. We are all very curious, especially me, and since we have a few of the same hobbies I just want to hear people talk about them, or read what they like I suppose.

Well, women are usually romance writers because they fantasize about being treated that way, most books I will say the main guy character is an asshole but sometimes they are willing to die for their love.

And who doesn't want someone like that? Love is a tricky subject, but it's one of the best things in the world IMO. That's why I try to spread it as much as I can,

I can't speak for any other author but myself I suppose if I can call myself that, but some women like it when a guy is assertive and that can come across as him being an ass, which some people like.

I might have to ask Petra about her favorites then, and for the erotica it usually has foreplay, you know like blowjobs and all that before leading up to the sex, and I don't know what type of books you're reading though because the ones I read the women want it.

I am such a sucker for forbidden romance and love triangles, just the drama makes for a fun story, and fiction is just that, so you can make whatever you want and it's very relaxing for some, such as myself.

I write a lot of erotica and fluff because again love is something I love, but I do agree with you on the strangers when they have obstacles come up and they have to navigate their way through them.

Enemies to lovers are also good because even though they probably have seen the worst of you, they still love you whole no matter what.

Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful day/evening Captain, I left you an assortment of tea on your desk as a little gift, along with something else. I hope you enjoy them.

Would you accept a cheek kiss?

[Previous ask]

...Alright. Guess I'll take your word for it.

Interesting. I don’t see the appeal in other people dying for you, but those people have to have different experiences... I guess they never got given good attention and want to be, and yet aren't a fan of that attention being given freely in the first place. So you get a grand gesture like that by a man like you described.

No judgment—I just get why now. Anything can happen in books, I guess… like you said.

And I agree with you. About love. It all comes down to the same feeling. That’s not a bad thing to be passionate about, either.

Petra's tastes aren't vastly different from mine... but you'd find someone who can better explain them from her. She gets excitable about some books. But it seems like you and I have common tastes too, regardless.

*Grumbling* To be fair... I only read a couple of scenes like that before I actively started avoiding them. I don't give a shit about the logistics or anything. Not my thing.

I see... About enemies to lovers. *Awkward silence*

And I saw. Thanks for that, Morgyn. It's appreciated… *Weakly, thoughtful* From you, huh…? Do what you want.

And as a PS… If you write, that makes you a writer, doesn’t it? Don’t discount yourself like that.

[worldofherwords]

You.

Dear You,

I am writing to you because I am sad and I don’t have anyone to talk to. Because all my friends are tired of hearing about this and I feel like they pity me when I do. Also, I may or may not be a bit inebriated.

Our love started good, it was like finding someone you’ve known all your life. It’s like we picked up where we left off, even if we are virtually strangers. I honestly don’t know what made me fall for you, perhaps its how you decided that you want me, and no one has ever wanted me that surely before. Perhaps it’s how easy I found talking to you is, it’s like I’ve known you all my life. It wasn’t awkward even if I’m all but that. Initially, I thought that it’s weird that I had feelings for you because it didn’t make any sense at all. But all I knew is that I want to be with you. Wanted. For the first time, I actually saw a future with someone. I actually wanted to be with someone. I spent a lot of time alone, I was not desperate to be with anyone. Like I told you when we first started talking, I wasn’t planning on looking for a relationship. I was just honestly there cos I was bored and wanted to talk to people. Then I met you.

When you first encountered problems, I told myself that it’s time to leave. It was too much too soon. I wanted to comfort you and be there for you even if I knew you didn’t want to. My stupid mouth slipped and accidentally told you that I love you. Maybe that was the start of the end, beginning of nothing, because it was too much too soon. Perhaps you only got carried away by how I feel so you decided that you also felt the same, even if it wasn’t the reality. Regardless, I pushed that anxiety down because you said you loved me. It felt amazing, like a breath of fresh air. You were telling me things that I’ve never heard anyone say to me, making promises that sounded like I’m the only girl in the world. Too bad they are just words.

I immediately got used to being around you, even when the signs said that you’re not fond of it. I felt like I was bothering you all the time but then you would have moments where you would act like you’re so in love with me. I told myself that maybe the good times are worth it. The best part you did that made me feel like maybe you truly do care is when you spent time with me even after your long shift from work, just to make sure I’m okay. I was holding onto this, so much. Every time someone says that I’mbeing treated like shit, I always tell them no because I’ve seen this part of you that cared. But that’s the thing, I can’t keep holding out to when you decide to be like that again.

February came around and I was so excited because it will be the first time in years that I will be celebrating Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend. The day came and you didn’t even greet me, you said nothing. I felt stupid for hoping that you’d care. I brushed it off, the pain, because I knew it was your birthmonth. I said maybe you’re just not a valentine’s day person. Maybe you’re just not romantic. I pushed all the hurt and anxiety down. I worked tirelessly to earn enough to send you some gifts to make you feel special on your day, because you told me that no one has cared enough to give you a gift. I wanted to make you feel special, even with the distance. I was so happy because I succeeded! You were happy, you felt special! That was the goal. You started being warmer and sweet towards me, I was happy because I thought hey it’s turning around finally! Yay. But I didn’t know that it would last only for a couple of weeks before we got back to you ignoring me again and making me feel as if I don’t matter. I thought that you getting a Nintendo Switch would save our relationship, cos we’d spend more time together. But it didn’t last for long. You got tired of it and we’re back to our normal routine. Maybe you deleting the stupid post I made on your game was enough premonition to me that you didn’t want people to know you’re taken. You explained everything then, I thought to myself – wow he didn’t just shut off. This is progress. I thought you were telling the truth. I believed you.

Admittedly, what I did next is wrong. I listened to people who said that you weren’t serious with me. I didn’t want to believe hem, believe me. But after seeing what they had to show, it was hard not to believe it. Especially knowing that it was a romantic thing that never panned out. It made me feel like you were still hoping to someday be with them. That you’re only with me because I’m the one who’s available. Maybe that’s another problem of mine, I’ve made myself so available to you. Even when I’m busy or not feeling my best, I would always run to you the moment you need me. Give you whatever you need even if I have nothing. Because to me, that’s love. While I was loving you, I forgot to love myself. I started picking on myself, maybe if I look more like them then you’d pay me enough attention. Maybe if I act more like them then you’d feel as if it’s not a chore to be with me. Because those are the things that you made me feel. That I have to act a certain way to be with you. You only wanted Happy me, not the sad depressed mei. Which is so unfair. But I said, hey maybe that’s what lve is. And god, I was dumb to think of that. I tried to push the negativity out again, after we talked. I tried to tell myself that I can do it. That I wouldn’t want to lose the potential future we have. But then I saw you looking at other women, you said you enjoy their content but their content is porn. It made me feel horrible yet again. It made me feel disgusted and disgusting. That maybe you only liked me because of what I am. I felt sick to my stomach seeing you enjoy ABGs shaking their ass on screens, I felt fetishized. You were acting as if you’re single, looking at these women with their tits and asses out. You were giving them the attention that I wanted. Even after promising that you won’t. I tried to bargain against myself, thinking that maybe you’d change but it just doesn’t feel right. I was willing to look the other way and take what you say and believe it. But at the end of the day, those are just words right?

I guess its too much for me to ask to be respected? I don’t know. All I know is that when I’m with you, I feel small. Insignificant. Ugly. Unwanted. Unloved. I’ve never felt this pain before, and I’ve been through so much. Maybe it’s my fault because I ignored all the signs. But I was so in love with you, you don’t even know it. I put you up in a pedestal, thinking you won’t do anything to hurt me. Because I thought we saw each other eye to eye. I didn’t know I was wrong. I guess red flags are just flags when you’re wearing rose colored glasses. All I wanted was honesty, all I offered was honesty. Never have I ever lied to you in the duration of our relationship.

I don’t know why I’m writing. I don’t even know if I’ll send this. Maybe.  Maybe not. Not sober, at least. I doubt you’ll even care. I doubt you’d even read it. I doubt it. Maybe this is the universe’s sick revenge, karma, for all the guys I’ve ghosted and hurt before you.

I want you to know that I really did love you. I’ve given you my all. And this is the same reason why I want you to stop pursuing me. Especially if you’re not ready. Because I will always come back to you. Because you will always have a space in my heart. But if you truly love me, please spare me the pain.

I really wanted it to work. So bad. That I was willing to look past how much I’m hurting. I guess you’re right, maybe I’m too emotional. But it’s something I’m proud of, especially after being robbed of emotions all my life. It’s not wrong of me to feel things, I worked so hard for it. I was so vulnerable with you, completely no walls barred. Maybe that was wrong of me. Maybe I should have left some for myself. That’s just how I am, I love so hard and selflessly. I’m sorry if it was too much for you.  I’m sorry I had to leave the way I did. I needed to save myself of the pain. I just can’t handle it anymore.

Maybe one day, if you find yourself here or I there, maybe we could try again. When we’re both ready for each other. But for now, good bye and thank you for everything. I’m sorry for everything as well.

PS- don’t forget to cut yourself some slack. You are trying your best with what you have, you have overcame a lot and you should be proud of that every single day. As I am.   You will live a fruitful life with someone who will love you unconditionally and understand you completely, without it being so difficult.

[littlefreya]

The Crystal Ship - Part 1

Summary: Henry is the most dangerous crime lord in England, he has everything he wants and women throw themselves at his feet, but what really gets him off is what’s hard to get.

Pairing: AU! Mafia Boss!Henry Cavill x OFC (Ash)

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: Smutty Smut, MaleDom Vibes, Stripping, Bad language, Sexual innuendo, dry humping, bodily fluids.

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this for a while and I only hope you guys will like it. As usual, I am nervous. It was supposed to be a one-shot but ended up being longer than I expected so I am dividing it into two parts for now. Many thanks to @agniavateira my sweet beta and helpful muse. Cover designed by me.

Please leave feedback  💖🥺 and more importantly, enjoy.

Title: The Crystal Ship

The sweet, smoky scent made his nose curl in repulsion. It was thick in the air, like a fruit that was too ripe, mere moments before rot sets in. Henry dreaded coming to the Imperial, even though it was the only safe ground to conduct business without having to deal with the district attorney's snout or any unwelcome eavesdropping. The club felt musty, drenched with bodily fluids and not in a good way. The men who frequented this place were foul animals; being amongst them made him feel as if their filth was rubbing onto him. 

Sitting at the bar, he downed his whiskey, hissing while the fiery liquid hit the back of his throat. The bartender stood behind the counter, polishing some glasses and looking at the large man as he brooded on the sleek black marble of the counter.     

Plastic neon lights flickered magenta and turquoise on the slick surface. An offensive contrast to the gloom that played inside Henry’s head. Life lacked vividness when everything was handed over on a golden tray. Money, beautiful women, fast cars. 

The women of the club were especially keen on throwing themselves at his feet, thirsty for his attention and money which he was never willing to give.

“Please fuck me, Henry.” “Please let me suck your cock.”

As any man, he was flattered, though if he wanted to see a woman naked, he wouldn’t need to pay for it. Still, they circled him, desperately whining at his feet whenever he stepped into the club.

All except for her. 

Big, almond-shaped eyes the colour of fertile light brown earth with a touch of green. Sitting on a barstool in the opposite direction. She was one of the girls working the club, no doubt. He didn’t imagine she was a gangster wearing fishnet stockings and a tight corset.

New girl, he gathered. He had never seen her pretty face before tonight. It was apparent she could sense his glance. Her body shifted uncomfortably, her irises focused on the straw of her tall glass of orange juice yet she never bothered looking back. Not even a smile on her nude lips. 

Henry scoffed as a spike of interest surged through his mind. He spotted the long-haired beauty earlier as he sat through an infuriating meeting. Her big hazel eyes cut into his attention abruptly, focusing on his glare for a wisp before she swung away. 

Treating him as if he was a nobody.

She chose to ignore him, much to his contempt. 

Girl likes to play tough? Well, I happen to like bending things in my hands.

-----------

Ash felt her hand prickle as she waited on the bar stool. Sipping on an orange juice, she watched as an ageing rich couple made out on a red vinyl booth while a curvy girl danced on their table. Candy-Apple, the girl who she was paired with for the night, disappeared to one of the VIP rooms with a customer. Instructed her to wait and not to take any customers alone, being still a trainee. 

The Imperial had some strict dos and don’ts. 

Little did Candy know, Ash had the miraculous gift of getting herself into sticky situations and for reasons she couldn’t explain, tonight felt like one of those nights. 

Taking another sip, she exhaled nervously, the corset tight around her ribs, further pushing her already strangled lungs. It was her very first shift and she seemed to have fallen on a busy night. The customers were not too pushy, though. No one has smeared himself onto her while holding a pitcher of beer and smelling of peanuts on their breath. Candy promised that the owners won't touch the girls and don’t let anyone else touch them either. The Imperial might be a “gentlemen’s” club, but it was one of the safest joints for girls to work at in London.

It didn’t do anything to calm the anxiety that waited at the door as she felt the presence of the tall stranger who kept his eyes on her for the last couple of hours. 

She “bumped” into him earlier as she walked around the ground floor. Broad shoulders and a face that looked as if it was put together from all the best parts found in heaven. He sat with three other men, looking like the superior one in the group. Fury burned in his eyes, yet his posture was composed which only made him look more frightening. It was a mistake to gander, she knew it deep in her heart, but he was an impressive specimen of a man. She couldn’t look away, not soon enough before their eyes met.

Now he was sitting a few meters away. A spiced drink sits in his glass, a ghost of a smile loomed over his face while his fingers were pressed to his temple in some sort of dark intrigue. He stared with the confidence of a man who knew he could have everything and it seemed like she fell on his aim.

Feeling uncomfortable, Ash broke her gaze and slipped off from her seat, wishing to find a place where she could hide from his hungry curiosity. This man had trouble written all over his arrogant posture and if she learnt anything about herself, it was that she was a magnet for chaos. She turned on her stilettos and crouched down for a second to rearrange the fishnet stockings around her thighs before straightening up moving on.

In the most natural order of things, the stranger was there to stand in her way. 

Broad and mysterious, the man towered above her with a small smile edging his mouth. Up close, she noticed his copper-brown curls and eyes like smooth steel. They shone like sharp knives through the club’s neon lighting. His jaw was cut marble, defined lines soared across his high cheekbones and even his lips had the perfect cupid’s bow. 

Ash registered him carefully and her heart murmured. No man should be this good looking; he was beautiful in manners that seemed unearthly.

“May I buy your precious time, love?” 

His voice hung low and deep, smooth like a chocolate truffle that melted on one’s tongue. 

The scent of danger filled Ash’s nostrils; it smelled like peated scotch, aftershave, and heady musk. Judging by his cool-grey tailored suit, it was quite clear that he was a businessman from the underworld kind.  

He burnt hot, and a part of her was immediately drawn to the flame. Yet despite the thrill, he seemed much more perilous than any of the other criminals who lurked around the club. This man could easily fuck up some poor girl’s life. 

In the dark cold cavern of the club, with his shadow casting over her face, the stranger seemed more like Hades than just the ordinary mobster.   

“Maybe some other night”, she forced herself to refuse, doing her best to sound polite yet stern while offering an apologetic smile in the hope that he would accept her refusal and let her go. 

She knew right away that wouldn’t please him. It was clear as vodka; he wasn’t a man who took no for an answer. The thought alone made her nerves shiver as if someone was sliding ice on her skin.

Henry ran his knuckle across the dimple of his chin. The signet ring on his pinky finger flickered on her hazel eyes in blinding silver. He took her in with a deep inhale. No, not even a drop of appreciation on her pretty face but he did detect a tinge of fear.

Interesting he mused, a small grin stretching his defined lips. The little dark-haired woman was either completely oblivious to who he was, or she was one of them ladies who had principles. 

Whichever it was, it spiked his intrigue and made for a curious turn of events in a very boring night.

“Isn’t that what you do, darling? Dance for money?”

He asked as he waved two £50 bills between his long fingers as an offering. His accent was posh and not a fake one either. She imagined he grew up wealthy. How does a man who presumingly, could achieve everything in life wound up into a place like this, she wondered. Not that the Imperial club was anything sort of sleazy. It was owned by the largest underworld family and had a taste of an old cabaret. Male celebrities often visited the club aside from gangsters and corrupt politicians.  

“It’s my first night I’m not really...”

Henry reached into his pocket, drawing six more £50 bills and offered it to her. The steel in his eyes softened for a moment, yet the peril still hovered on his face. 

He was a man trying to appear harmless and the risk never seemed so alluring.

Chewing on her cheek, she stared at the money. It was enough to stock the fridge for at least a month but it wasn’t as even half as seductive as her stranger’s haunting charm. 

Fuck it.

Taking a deep breath, her slender fingers reached toward the hand that held the cash. She snatched the money from between his digits and tucked it in her garter belt. Henry beamed, pleased that she agreed. Two large dimples creased his cheeks as if this man needed any more attractive features.

Ash wrapped her fingers around his wrist and led him through the depths of the club while her heart thundered in her chest. For some reason, it felt as if she was walking freely into a trap. 

And yet, excitement boiled in her blood. 

The cracks between their silent contract were filled by the beats of the monotonous music. They passed by the abundance of half-naked women who were coaxing different men around the bar, touching and smiling sweetly, serving them with nothing but the illusion that they are wanted, when in fact they were needed for nothing but a paycheck. 

Henry followed the petite woman, anticipation coating his veins and spiralling a small grin on his face. He guessed that without her heels she’d be at the height of his shoulder, this pretty little thing with raven black hair. He was intrigued by the way she bravely withstood him, almost to the point of irritation. It seemed as if his spell was useless on her as she carried herself carelessly, unlike the many women who threw themselves at his feet, begging to be fucked.   

There was something provoking in her, to the extent of him willing to break another one of his own rules and get a sense of what she felt from the inside. 

Her fingertips pressed on his wrist, sensing the pulse within. His heart ran strong and confident but she imagined it would only be a matter of time until she’d have him a complete mess. 

They all have the same weakness, no matter how much power they have. 

The large spacious club narrowed into a slim corridor while teal and magenta-coloured lights danced diagonally across a mirrored tunnel. Their own reflections appeared several times, accompanying them as they arrived in an open room, guarded by a huge, square-shaped bodyguard with a shaved head, chewing on the dead skin of his thumb.

Henry eyed him carefully, giving him a small nod before following her into the room. The interior was dark, with a black ceiling and a black shiny floor, embellished with white LEDs that reflected on her red stiletto heels. An onyx leather couch waited in the middle next to a small edge table holding plenty of bottled hard liqueur.   

“Make yourself comfortable.” She gestured toward the seat and shut the door behind her, taking a deep breath as she felt a slight increase in her heartbeat. In the confinement of the small space, the brooding man had the energy of a lion, hazing her senses and making her feel like nothing more but a fluffy little rabbit. 

The leather squeaked beneath his weight as he shifted slightly, wide thighs spread open while he glanced at her rear. She turned to tinker with the stereo system, selecting a tune to dance to. 

Browsing through the selection of beverages, Henry decided to treat himself to a bottle of smoked whiskey. He unturned a clean lowball on the table, the sharp hiss making her flinch and then slump her shoulders at the sound of thick liquid being poured. The odour of spiced ashes filled the room, mixing with his musk and her sweet perfume.  

“Should I pour you one as well, pet?” 

“I would rather not drink on the job,” she replied and pressed play. Soft synth tunes played through the speakers and Ash turned to him slowly, giving him a seductive glance. 

“Depeche Mode, really?” He crooked an eyebrow and smiled with amusement before pressing the glass to his lips and eyeing her carefully.

“I thought this song is fitting for my first VIP client” she answered, and made sensual steps towards him, already feeling captive by the daggers on his eyes. Henry took another sip of the amber-gold drink and placed his glass aside, pressing his fingers against his temple while examining the woman who was running her hands over her corset.

“You’re my first too.” 

“Bullshit,” she mocked, entering into the space between his knees. 

Henry tilted his head, a small warning glare crossing his chiselled face. “Mind your tongue, sweetheart. You’re a lady, act like one.”   

She bit her tongue, avoiding the small tremor that flapped from her chest all the way up to her throat like a tiny caged bird. The dominance and authority in his voice made her shiver, making her feel as if she was owned by more than just his money. She wondered what made a handsome man like him even bother paying for something he could get for free from any woman he wanted.

“Fuck,” she provoked, keeping the fear on her breath tucked well behind a sweet sultry smile. She took joy in the dissatisfaction that danced on his face as she cursed. “You know how this works, then?”

“You take off your clothes and dance on my lap like a good girl?” 

“I can touch you, you don’t touch me.” she warned, and slowly fell to her knees between his thick thighs, following the hollowed drop in the melody. Henry stared down at her with a pleased look on his face, his eyes hued with wanton as she rolled the laces of her corset between her fingers and unwrapped herself like the sweetest present. 

It wasn’t her first time giving a lap dance. She worked in strip clubs outside of London, but those were much smaller clubs that held no more than 40 guests. And none of her customers looked like Big Handsome Boss. 

“That seems unfair,” he answered as she spread her corset open. Her perked nipples teased through the loosened fabric while she gave him a pouty look and pulled at the laces delicately until she was free of the confinement of her bodice. 

Henry shifted in his seat uncomfortably while she revealed her body to him. Small breasts glowed heavenly in the LED lighting, skin pure and smooth like honey. He was forced to reach a hand to adjust the huge bulge that pooled with arousal while her fingers began stalking up to his knees like two big spiders. 

Big boy, she noted, trying to deny the small electric tingle that ran mischievously between her legs.  

“Many things in life are unfair, Mister…”

“Henry.”

“Henry,” she answered, her French-manicured nails scratching his thighs, eliciting a low growl from him that made her spine crawl. “Not that I imagine that a man like you would know.”

He let out a small chuckle, she wasn’t far from being right. The hardest thing in his life right now was the fact that a beautiful nymph was dancing between his thighs and he wasn’t allowed to touch her. Yet.

The little vixen clutched his thighs tightly and pushed herself up steadily, spine curving, her breasts displayed an inch from his lips. She climbed to his lap and straddled his waist, pressing her panty-clad crotch against his caged erection. A rogue moan escaped her lips as she felt the mass of his bulge between her legs, much to the large man’s delight.

It appeared she wasn’t all immune to his spell. Her breath was shaking in her throat as she pressed her hands against his chest, feeling the hard pecs under the soft cotton of his grey shirt. Henry was sturdy and large. She couldn’t help but wonder what he hid beneath his well-tailored outfit. His biceps were bigger than her head as he kept his arms folded; those thighs beneath her ass felt thicker than logs.  

Her lustful gaze swayed to meet the sky in his eyes up close, detecting a slight imperfection in one of them: an earthly taint of brown. He gave her a slanted grin, descending to feast on the sight of her half-naked form with a flick of his tongue across his lip. 

Red flags waved at the back of her mind. This man was the epitome of danger, drenched with dark lust and sinister grins. The fact that he was a sweet, sugary treat for a starving girl made for a sinful mixture, causing both distress and stickiness between her thighs.

Henry placed both his hands on the armrests, fingers digging into the onyx leather to hold himself from grabbing her slim waist and grinding her onto his cock. Her mound felt fiery hot onto the fabric of his trousers, and the slow tidal sway of her hips did nothing but engorge him even more.        

“What’s your name, little minx?” He asked, his breath heavy and sweet with whiskey against her neck. 

She hummed in response, closing her eyes and throwing her head back while her hands held onto his broad shoulders. The dark waterfalls of her hair streamed down behind her. Her torso stretched, bare breasts a delicious sight while she danced on his groin, increasing the friction that ran like smouldering heat. 

“It’s… Lilith…” she answered, licking her lips as she felt the blood vibrating between them.

Henry groaned, enjoying the brush of her body against his. She moved in sensual waves- slow yet hard, like a storm inching an ocean. Her voice hummed softly in his ear, her almond-shaped eyes tricking him into believing he was desired, needed. 

And perhaps he was, as her lips swelled red with passion and she danced on his cock with as much urgency to please herself as to please him.

“Your real name, pet.”   

Ash closed her eyes and shook her head. “I am not allowed to tell you.”

“Fair enough,” he growled. He felt her increase the pace, pushing harder onto him. His self-control was vastly challenged. His breath became fervent fumes. He felt the moistness beneath his hands as he clutched tightly on the soft leather as if his life were dependent on it. The pulse in his organ became as rageful as a volcano.

“You look like you’re enjoying this as much as I am,” he murmured, letting his lips inch dangerously close against her neck. “I wonder if this sort of thing would happen with anyone else, or I’m special.”

Goosebumps spread through her skin, her nape felt a cold shiver. Ash swallowed hard. If this was a thriller film this was the point where she was supposed to turn back and save her skin, yet all she fancied was to push her cunt against menacing Henry and mewl as tinders of joy licked between her legs.

“Is that a problem, if I am?” She dared.   

Unable to control his body’s natural instincts, Henry broke and bucked his hips roughly into her mound, giving in to her grind, growling as the collision created sparks of fire that increased the flame between them. 

“Not at all,” he grunted, feeling droplets of sweat forming on his brow. “Only that I paid you.” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself.”

And tendrils of pleasure were indeed within her grasp. Ash felt a tremble in her thighs. He was large and hard, demanding to be let inside her. She’d be lying if she didn’t want the same, imagining just how large a man of his size was. 

She wondered how he’d fuck her, would he be as slow and rough as their carnal dance, or would he throw her on the bed and wreck her till she cried. 

The dark gaze in his eyes made her lean toward the latter and darn if he didn’t look at her as if she was the most intoxicating woman on earth. Feeling the flush ride from her cheeks down to her chest, she turned around, pushing her ass against his cock instead. She wanted to come so badly, the throb between her legs mingled with the fear that tingled in her chest. She wanted to remind herself she was protected by the owners of the club and the man standing right outside, yet Henry made her doubt herself. 

And for some reason, it only made her more excited.

“Touch me!” She demanded in a voice tainted with desperation.

There was no need to ask more than once. Her handsome stranger groaned the most beautiful melodies in her ear and reached his aching hands to squeeze her breasts. They moaned together as the much-needed bond had formed. Henry’s thumbs circled her nipples while his fingers kneaded on the fat of her flesh. She knew this was a mistake, he would leave his violet fingerprints all over her skin yet her judgment was clouded by the pleasure his touch elicited on her desperate flesh.

“Lilith.” Henry gasped, allowing himself to nuzzle the girl’s hair as she seemed completely lost to her own desires. “Do you fuck your boss?”

“I’m not a prostitute.” she answered breathlessly as one of his hands climbed up to her neck and held her jaw, drawing her head back onto his shoulder. His hips bucked harder against her ass, the pounding in his cock was nothing but white-hot fury. He held her tightly while she dug her nails into his thighs. 

“Not what... I asked…” he gasped, his voice breaking between grunts.

“No.” 

Ash felt his cock twitch beneath her and his moans chanted repeatedly, becoming louder and louder. The pulsating need inside her was unbearable yet it wasn’t enough, not for her. She needed to feel something inside her throbbing cunt yet she feared breaking the rules. Henry pushed against her ass with vigour, emitting inarticulate sounds until he clutched her tightly and gasped with pleasure. 

For a few seconds, the room felt like the most radiant thing on earth.  

Ash breathed out as his hot mess was sticky against her ass. Slight disappointment danced in her chest as she didn’t share his climax and her heart was still in rageful turmoil, furious for not being let to feel the much-needed pleasure. Yet a part of her was relieved that their contract has expired. 

She might have managed to avoid trouble for once. 

“Good.” Henry breathed out, panting heavily as he tried to adjust his lungs. His hands still covered her breasts, sensing the dampness of her skin against his sweaty palms 

“Because I am your boss, darling.”  

Her mind still fuzzy, Ash let out a confused chuckle which quickly died as the man beneath her didn’t join in her laughter. The rigidness on his breath sounded dead serious and the signet ring on his pinky finger suddenly felt cold against the softness of her breast.   

“Cavill.” she called out, panic pitching her voice higher. “Henry Cavill…?”

“Mhmm.” he hummed with approval, an arrogant smile spread from the corners of his lips as he noticed the obvious shift in her mood. Still seated on his lap, she let out a trembling wheeze as her heart sank to her gut.

“You are not joking, are you?”

“No,” his voice rumbled, vibrating low and thick against her prickling spine. 

Ash felt the sweat turn cold on her skin. Giving a small turn, she was unable to determine whether she should get up or remain seated on his groin. She could see the shit-eating grin on Henry’s sharp jaw from the corner of her eye and decided to gather her shaky feet to stand, nearly losing her balance as her heels suddenly despised her.

“Mr. Cavill, I’m so sorry,” she dropped her gaze to the floor, her hands covering her breasts nervously out of the misled thought she offended him. If he felt threatening before, now she felt pure terror making her blood sting. The Cavills were the most notorious organized crime family in the United Kingdom. Their web spun across each district, and they owned half of the police force in London.

She just made a filthy mess out of the trousers of a man who kills much more important people than her.

It was very much clear to her that it would take little to no effort to make a no one like Ashleigh Carr disappear. 

The room began to feel as if it was depleted of air all of a sudden.

“Considering you just made me come all over my pants, you can call me Henry, or sir.” he corrected her in his deep voice while his piercing steel eyes focused on the obvious stain on his crotch. 

Ash blinked, terrified as Henry reached for the phone at the back of his trousers. A muscle strained in his jaw while he scrolled through the device and then placed it against his ear. She opened her mouth to apologize once again, yet was silenced by Henry holding up his index finger gesturing “wait”.

“Sean, I will need a clean suit brought to the Imperial, ASAP. Make it a dark one.”

The crime lord ended the call with a friendly yet authoritative “Cheers,” before lifting his gaze to the slender girl who still stood at the same spot with eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Never in his life had he had a naked girl look at him with so much fear on her face. 

It was an interesting new aspect. 

Reaching down between his knees, Henry fished for her flimsy corset and pulled his heavy body upward. His long legs stretched as he stepped toward the horrified girl. Giving her a smile, he handed her the piece of garment. 

She snatched it from his hand with slight hesitation while he stared down at her, his head tilting as if to further study the features of her face. She was too afraid to break eye contact, strapping the corset back around her body without saying another word.

“Lilith…” Henry called, his spiced breath hot on her face.

“Ash...Ashleigh,” she admitted.

“Ashleigh,” Henry pronounced her name softly in his low voice, giving a small dreamlike smirk as if it was the most beautiful name he ever heard. His tongue licked over his bottom lip while he drank the sight of her in. 

“I’d like to fuck you.”

Ash stared at the man in front of her with surprise, lust still blooming between her thighs, her skin tingling with the imprint of his touch. Inside, she seared with passion and he was undoubtedly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen with his kissable lips and crystal blue eyes.

But she detested the idea of being a whore. She never slept with a customer, nor was she willing to sleep with her boss. 

Even if it cost her life. 

“As I said, not a prostitute.”

“I have no intention of paying you,” he answered with a dry chuckle.

“You just did,” she answered and then took a deep breath, choosing not to say more. She still valued her life after all, no matter how pitiful it is. 

Henry gave her a slanted smirk and began circling her like a predator stalking his prey. Careful eyes followed him, her breath measured with every step he took. 

There was a spirit in her, warm and feisty. Defiant despite the fear that sparkled as clear as water in her beautiful eyes. In the cold, secluded room of his sinful club, he finally felt the thing he chased after for years. Passion. Desire. 

And it was booming in his heart.

“I find you interesting, Ashleigh,” he replied and shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket, drawing out a sharp silver card.

“But I am not one to beg, nor do I take pleasure in pressuring women to sleep with me.”

The card gleamed like a knife as he held it between his digits while waiting for her to accept it. 

“This is my driver’s number, just in case you decide you do want to spend your night with me.”

*

Read Part 2

________________________________________________

[thesunshinebunny]

Can you please do headcanons for what the twisted wonderland boys would do if their girlfriends ex showed up wanting her back?

Uh… .ALL OF THEM ???? Are you serious ?? Oh My God !!!! Ummmmmmmm, OK, I’LL DO MY BEST, but I think it’s about time I started putting character limits because this is going to be difficult.

IT WAS INSANEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE For obvious reasons I didn’t include Ortho, so I hope this is still to your liking

Riddle

He tried to make the meeting as smooth and consistent as possible.

He is the dorm leader, he has to be the example of maturity and consistency in dealing with women.

He tried for more than half an hour to dispel the insults towards him and politely asked them to get out of Hearstlabyul, but when your ex started talking about you… oh boiiii

Our Queen is pisseeeeeeeeed.

Indispensably if your ex had magic or not, it’ll be OF WITH THEIR HEAD.

Had to ask not only to Trey and Cater but also the dynamic duo to escort them out.

Treat him with little sweetness and a cup of coffee, our redhead will thank you.

"I love you, and I will always be by your side as long as you want to have me with you"

Trey

The personified knight. Outside of joking, at no point did he get upset or ask them to leave in a rude manner.

He handled the situation calmly and when your ex finished speaking, that was when his face changed radically.

Yes, the knight in shining armor was quite a facade.

He gave your ex a gloomy look and in a low tone commented that they were not welcome at Heartslabyul, much less NRC and that they had to leave if they didn’t want to end up with a broken leg.

SHOOK.

Both of you spent the night baking cakes and watching bad movies, even though what Trey really cared the most was spending the night with you, snuggled between his sheets.

"I may have reacted in a somewhat terrifying way, but believe me when I tell you that that look will never be directed at you"

Cater

Our dear orange haired man here didn't take it very well. It was one of the few moments in which his face or voice had not the hint of happiness and amusement that characterized him so much.

He may have used his unique magic to intimidate your ex… I mean, if a mildly angry Cater doesn't do any good, I guess five will work.

Indispensably whether it worked or not, you could always call in the dynamic duo to get your ex out of the way.

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t necessary the one neuron duo, with the five Caters it was more than enough.

Before they left the dorm, he took a selfie as not in a mockery mode and uploaded it to his social medias.

“Do you want to appear in the photo? So I can show the world how beautiful you are, how lucky I am to have you and how stupid your ex was to show up at school "

Ace

Another one who lost his temper, but just when the person in front of him said it was your ex.

Don't overthink it, he just made an angry face because he already knew what your ex was up to, and he didn't like it one bit.

Believe it or not, Ace didn't hold on to the punches with them. No, he simply told them that he had no intention of letting you go and immediately sent them flying with his magic.

For the last thing, he told them not to bother trying, turned around and went to where you were to give you a long, possessive kiss in front of your ex.

"I maaaay have been a bit possessive, but I don't want you to leave my side"

Deuce

He threw a cauldron at their head ... jocking ... or not?

Nah, nah, I'm kidding, but he did come close to throwing his famous cauldron at them and leaving them squashed like a figurine.

Lowkey rogue mode activated.

It may have scared you a little, but it didn't have much of an effect.

Your ex didn't leave you alone until Deuce punched him across the face, screaming for them to leave you alone.

You have to get out of the crime scene before any teacher comes.

Ashamed of himself. Maybe the way of resolution he had was not the best, but it was effective and you were grateful for that.

You gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek and told him everything was fine, that he didn't have to worry about anything; he was your knight in shining armor.

“Sorry, anger washed over me again. I couldn't bear the idea of you being taken away from me "

Leona

Man, this one acted out of pure pride. A stranger grabbing his beloved herbivore? Ohhhh noooo, honey, you messed with the wrong lion and prince.

This is one of the few times he wouldn't send Ruggie in to fix it. No. He would stand tall and beat this motherfucker ass.

You'll have to stop him before he turns your ex to sand, and I'm not kidding this time.

The very thought of someone taking his girlfriend from him drove him wild.

With your ex out of reach, and scared for life, he will demand cuddles and a nap.

He won't admit it, but Leona was afraid for a moment of losing you. You are his, and no one else's.

“I will not let anyone take you from my arms. I will protect you no matter what”

Ruggie

Used Laught with me, no discussion.

And there was no discussion with your ex. He just saw them with you, heard snippets that they wanted you back, that they wanted a second chance, blah blah blah ... and that was it, unique magic in action.

You got disoriented for a moment when you saw your ex walking strangely towards the exit, but when you heard the famous giggle of your boyfriend you knew immediately what was happening.

Let's be honest, in all it was a pretty funny image.

Ruggie stayed by your side all afternoon in the Savanaclaw lounge room playing and splashing in the water.

"I may be a possessive and territorial hyena, but this hyena is at your complete mercy"

Jack

Nothing like a good roar to scare away any predator that intends to stick its nose into other's prey.

Just kidding, Jack would never consider you prey, you are his significant other and that means he must protect you from any danger.

Wolf mode activated to the surprise of your ex.

He growled until their figure could not be seen on the horizon… lowkey cute as fuck.

Give him cuddles in this form, he would really appreciate it… he really would love your hands caressing his soft fur.

Record a video of his tail wagging, just for science.

“I figured you were uncomfortable and couldn't think of anything else to get your ex off your back. Now come with me, I want to caress you correctly"

Azul

Believe me when I tell you that the appearance of your ex not only irritated Azul, but also brought him insecurities that he thought were already buried under the ground.

The fact that a stranger appeared at the doors of the Mostro Lounge with an air of melodrama was enough for our octopus to go out to meet them directly, thinking they was just another customer ... an annoying customer, to tell the truth.

But when they started yelling for your presence, demanding that you come back to them, oh ... Yeah, this so-called customer is now banned from entering.

He let Floyd and Jade take care of them.

Like Riddle, give him love and a few sweets, he needs it. He really needs affection.

He needs to hear your voice, to remind him that you are with him now. He wants to hear you say that he is the only person in your world right now and that you would not leave him for nothing.

“I'm a silly octopus who got tangled in your arms and not the other way around. Only you give me the comfort that I've been looking for so much "

Jade

Your ex must have some balls of steel to even be close to Jade and plan to face him to have you back ... this guy has a suicidal desire.

Jade's appearance was not only scary, but his way of talking and engaging in conversation with your ex was what made them run out of the Mostro Lounge.

But you were already more than used to his characterization as an intimidating person.

Bring him a basket full of multiple mushrooms from the botanical garden, he will appreciate it.

And maybe also a glass container to create a little mini environment for those mushrooms… both of you will have a nice time together, maybe the whole night putting it together.

"You are my favorite starfish and I cannot allow any sea thorn to monopolize your beauty"

Floyd

Even having the same calm expression as Jade when he saw your ex, it didn't last long. The moment your name came out of their mouth, Floyd's face broke.

You remember in episode 3 when he asks Adeuce braincell to shut up, well… that same expression.

By this time, Floyd was no longer as calm as his brother; in fact, he went directly to squeeze them.

If you paid close attention you could hear how the ribs were cracking little by little. Good thing you were there to stop Floyd.

Your ex stalked to the exit as they was nearly squeezed alive and Floyd gave you a grin from ear to ear as if he had done nothing wrong.

"I protect what is mine, no one has the right to take my shrimpy from my side"

Kalim

At first this ray of sunshine didn't even know what was happening, he thought they were just looking for you to chat, to keep up.

But when he heard this strange person exclaim that they wanted you back… he was still just as lost, but not in an innocent way.

He went to where you were to give you a big hug in front of your ex. He may have looked cute and adorable, but unconsciously Kalim was marking his territory.

Kindly asked your ex to leave the dorm and not make any more advances, they were making you uncomfortable, and if you were uncomfortable he was uncomfortable.

He gave you butterfly kisses when the situation calmed down. Give him kisses back, he needs them.

“You love me, right? Because I love you very much, and my love cannot be compared with anything in the world, and yours cannot be bought even with all the jewels I have in the treasure chamber "

Jamil

This is simple. Jamil only asked your ex once to leave the dorm.

Not understanding reasons the first time, he simply used his unique magic causing them to go "on their own".

Problem solved. NOW, that doesn't mean Jamil was in a good mood.

Not at all. Anger can be seen rising from his ears like smoke, but his face expresses calm.

Help him in the kitchen, he may not say anything, but internally he will thank you.

Cuddling in the middle of the night, curled up in his bed? HELL YEAH.

"You are the most precious diamond I have in my life, I am not going to let you go so easily"

Vil

How dare this pathetic person to proclaim you back in front of his own nose?

Putting aside how impressed he was by such a daring act, Vil was once again furious.

Vil isn’t a person who defends his opponent in a violent way like Leona or Floyd, but he could attack the self-esteem and brain.

Even though… if the obscene words towards you kept bubbling out of their disgusting mouth, he would have to give him a poison apple.

It almost happened, thank goodness you were there to lower the fumes.

Vil was irritable all day and not even a beauty treatment could calm him… shit this was bad.

Give him a couple of hours to calm down and try talking to him during the night and if he doesn't want to, you can always do the routine for his face before going to sleep.

“I'll be honest, I liked your ex's audacity, but it didn't displease to see how mistreated they was and if I can correctly assume, the mistreatment they caused you. You are here with me and I am here with you, neither is going to be detach from the other "

Rook

When Rook saw how your ex was trying to convince you to come back… let's just say he didn't take it very well.

But his face said otherwise. He had the same grinning and somewhat creppy expression as ever, so it was difficult to determine in that tense moment whether he was really angry or not.

I think the arrow that passed between the two of you, best expressed between your two faces, made it pretty clear that Rook wasn't going to sit idly by.

A bit violent and shocking, but effective. Your ex shitted their pants and stormed out of the place, without even looking back.

Coward.

"I'm sorry for the bad moment I put you on, but nobody touches my prey"

It may be that his action was with tenderness of support, but that doesn’t remove the shock from your face.

You slept with one eye open that night.

Epel

Let's say the conversation got off to a good start, until your ex had the brilliant idea of mistaking Epel for a girl.

Oh yeah, the truck driver's voice came out to our farmer.

Be prepared to hold him and prevent him from giving your ex a tremendous punch in the face. Even in that situation your damn ex had the decency to keep asking you to go back to them.

It even occurred to them to denigrate Epel for how short and his supposedly sweet voice was... now you can let him go.

With your ex out of your sight and a reprimanding of Vil towards Epel's ugly acting, you guys spent the night in your bedroom.

Simple caresses and a few small butterfly kisses to calm the atmosphere.

“Sorry, I lost control and gave you a hard time. Don't be mad at me, I don't even want to think about the possibility of losing you "

Idia

Oh… .emmm, embarrassed baby became even more embarrassed at having to come face to face with a complete stranger.

Talking to you is one thing, but talking about yourself with your supposed ex is another thing entirely; he even finds it difficult to talk about you with his own brother, so imagine the traumatic moment Idia had to go through.

In a stuttering manner, he asked them to please get away of hs face… and from school. If the shame towards his person was not enough to get your ex out of there, no problem ...

From somewhere he'd get a little machine that would run your ex's fucking ass outside the doors of NRC.

The machine would have a small camera embedded so you could see from its monitors how your ex ran like a baby with their butt burned thanks to Idia's invention.

He may have uploaded the file to the internet… who knows.

After this terrible and agonizing day, Idia doesn’t plan to leave his room until the end of the year.

Stay with him as long as necessary, hours, days, afternoons, nights, early mornings, whatever it is, just ... stay hugged him at all times.

“For a moment I thought you were going to leave with your ex. You know, Ortho loves you very much, and you leaving would make him very sad ... and me too"

Malleus

They have to have balls to go straight to Malleus and tell at his face that they wants you back.

10 for the audacity, -1000 for their physical health.

 Malleus, like Vil, doesn’t need to destroy or attack your ex, just standing there and acting intimidating is enough.

If your ex still wants to hang around you after seeing that scene, then Malleus is going to have to put his horns on it.

Nothing like a spark of fingers to make him disappear from your side and send him flying out of school.

They are fine, at least that’s what Malleus said.

“Even being amazed at the audacity of that little creature, they should learn that the word no means no. You, little human, you are mine"

Lilia

Big bear mama Lilia took the situation with great grace. If only your ex knew that the were talking to a fairy over five hundred years old I throw a number they would freeze.

He endured the boring and monotonous talk with your ex with a sarcastic smile and when they finished speaking he wished them a good way back. He then sent them flying towards the exit of Diasomnia.

With their butt out, Lilia slammed the door in their face. You watched the scene from the top of the dorm lounge stairs.

At no time did our little fairy have a hair out of place. And with that same tranquility he disappeared from the door and magically appeared next to you with his characteristic smile and face down.

He gave you sweet kisses before he went out to babysit some freshmen who were about to set the kitchen on fire… as if Lilia hadn't done it before.

“Don't listen to them, they are part of your past. The best thing is to leave it behind, because now you have a present with me "

Silver

It happened in one of the few times when Silver was wide awake and with no intention of going to sleep in whatever corner he came across first.

Still, he literally didn't understand anything, he just wanted to spend time with you and that time was ruined.

Silver did nothing, just grabbed your hand and led you into the hall of mirrors, disappearing into Diasomnia's one.

Before going through the mirror, you turned your gaze over your shoulder, seeing how your ex was following both of you and with a handshake which happened to be raised the middle finger you disappeared into the mirror.

In the warm cold of the bedroom, you spent a long time in the arms of your loved one.

"There is no need to look into the past, I like living the present with you"

Sebek

Don't hate me for what I'm going to say… but your ex didn't even have a chance to say hello, Sebek was already on his shoulders asking them to leave if he didn't want them to face a duel.

Just kidding, not a duel… but it would give him their lesson if they didn't immediately leave the dorm.

No one without the consent of his young master Malleus could enter the residence. And speaking of Malleus… he spent about half an hour talking about his master and how he would be able to turn them to ash if they approached Diasomnia again.

And by the way to you too.

"Incredible how a person thinks they had the right to appear like this out of nowhere, how could you be with a person like that?"

Oddly enough, the day passed like nothing, even at bedtime Sebek acted as if your ex had never shown up.

But… during the early morning, a heaviness on your stomach woke you up from your dreams. Sebek was huddled behind you, his head buried in your hair, his arms across your belly.