#of course i need some time to prepare and then time to recover

[yourlocallunatic]

You're Insufferable

Ridoc Gamlyn x Fem!reader 18+

Summary: Ridoc is a tease and everyone knows it and deals with it. But for some reason he drives you absolutely insane. The bickering is constant but there is something else lying underneath all the arguing. (follows Fouth Wing plot! I'm only halfway done with OS but I just love Ridoc sm)

Warnings: minor character deaths, smut! piv, oral sex (f receiving), light choking, a spank or two. sorta dom!Ridoc domsub dynamics. our boy is a relentless tease.

wordcount: 12.5K

notes: reader is described to have long hair because this is entirely self-indulgent. there is just such a lack of Ridoc stories, I needed moreeee. (yes it's long I got carried away)

Ridoc fucking Gamlyn. The bane of your existence. It started the day you crossed the parapet, you were determined to get across if only to spare your family from seeing your dead body on day one. The first rider of the family meant you were already dead to them, no one was there to prepare you for the onslaught you would face. And that day on the parapet was too close, the wind and rain caught you off guard, but it was your stupid long hair that was almost the death of you.

Your arms were out at your side to keep your balance while the wind whipped around you. You could hear the soon-to-be cadet behind you cursing with every step he took, his nervous laughs filling the air. It was hard to keep your balance though with your hair flying into your eyes every five seconds, and moving it away from your face took away precious time, the boy was getting closer. In a swipe of your hair, you glanced behind you quickly catching the dark-haired boy's eye, and he fucking grinned at you. Was it meant to be intimidating? No. But with how much adrenaline was coursing through your body the only thought you had was that he wanted to throw you off the edge to get rid of you early. You tried to pick up your pace but it only caused the wet strands of your hair to fly back in your face quicker resulting in you momentarily losing your balance. You crouch closer to the rocky surface trying to regain your balance slowly, a shaky breath leaving you as you hear the boy approaching closer.

"Better chop off that pretty hair when we get across or you're as good as gone when challenges start!" he shouted over the wind, his voice was teasing but you couldn't help the fear that was still running through your veins.

"Shut. Up." you grit out. You'd recovered your pace but he was still behind you.

"Hey, just trying to help. Or you can fall and I'd have one less cute girl to talk to and that would be a shame," he was so close to you you could feel his laugh on the back of your neck. But you ignored him, trying to focus on getting across the last quarter of the parapet. "You excited?" you give no response, again tucking your hair behind your ears, "can't say I'm thrilled with being potentially killed but hey, the lives we choose to live." You roll your eyes your pace now quickening with being so close to the confined walls of Basgiath once more. "Wait up! Don't want you running off without your new friend!" you were so close, ten more steps.

A deep exhale leaves you as you jump the short distance from the parapet to the grounds, a girl sits at a table with a sheet of paper and a pen waiting to take names. She jots down your name and gives you a tight-lipped smile before calling the next person.

"Ridoc Gamlyn," that gods-damned voice again. You try to speed away before he can get to you after giving his name but you don't make it. "Hey!" he calls to you. That's it. Better to get him off of you now before it becomes a habit.

"Hey?" you turn on your heel and stare him down causing him to almost run into you with the stride he was going at, "What the fuck was that back there?"

"Uhm I'm sorry?" he questions confusion taking hold of his face.

"I said, what the fuck was that? You were right behind me shouting in my ear! I know we're not supposed to root for each other but you're trying to kill me already?" you knew your face was going red with the anger consuming you. Gods, you couldn't wait for this guy to be gone.

"Woah, princess, I was just helping. Your hair is going to get in the way, take a look around, who else here has that long of hair?" you don't want to but you look around anyway. Every person, male, female, or otherwise had either short, cropped hair or it was tied back tightly. He gives you an I told you so look before speaking again. "That's because they're all at the bottom of the river, I was just there in case you lost your sight again. Whatever I'm done with this shit." He rolls his eyes before turning away and walking elsewhere.

You sigh to yourself. This was going to be a long three years and you've already made an enemy. With your luck, he would try to kill you that night.

Your first night as Basgiath started better than you expected. You'd managed some small talk with some other first years and the two girls invited you to sit with them at supper that night. One of them was the Sorrengail girl you'd heard everyone talking about, she was slight but with her stubborn determination you had no doubt she would try to cheat death in here. The other girl was taller, her hair braided back in dark cornrows, Violet was also smart enough to have her long, silver ends tied up. Shit. Maybe Gamlyn was right. You did your best to keep your eyes on him throughout supper, he sat a few tables away from you with some other first years, but clearly, you weren't being very discreet with your wandering gaze.

"Already found someone worth sleeping with?" Rhiannon questioned teasingly, turning to look at who you were staring at, "He's cute."

"No. He's a fucking asshole is what he is." You grumble, stabbing some lettuce with your fork.

"Ridoc, I talked to him earlier," Violet speaks up, "he was nice to me. Bit of a smart-ass but he's funny. What happened with you two?"

"He tried to kill me up on the parapet!" you say, definitely louder than you wanted to, and shit of course he looked up right as you said that. He excused himself from his table and made his way over to you guys. You swear your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. His stride was confident, a smirk playing on his lips as he brushed his dark curls away from his forehead. No. You internally scold yourself, he may be attractive with his lean frame but he was annoying as hell.

"Is the princess telling lies about me?" he smoothly slides between Rhiannon and Violet throwing his arms around their shoulders a grin eating up his face.

"You tried to kill her?!" Violet shoves his arm away from her, looking at him incredulously.

"Of course not!" rage consumes you, "I was just staying close to her, her hair kept flying in her face, was just there in case she lost sight completely and fell," he says as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"No. You were fucking distracting me!" your utensils clatter on your plate, "telling me to 'chop off my pretty hair'" You lower your voice to imitate him and he dares to laugh at you.

"Well...what do you girls think?" he says looking between the other two, their minds processing.

"I hate to say it...but Ridoc is right, it'll probably make it easier if you cut it, or at least tie it back like Violet," Rhiannon gives you an apologetic look and a shrug.

"That settles it then princess, just trying to help," Ridoc shoves himself away from the table before walking back to his seat, turning around halfway to meet your gaze, and winks at you. You roll your eyes in response before turning back to the girls. They share a look before going back to their meals.

The next morning in the barracks Violet had offered to braid your hair back for you and you begrudgingly agreed. You hated Ridoc being right. Zihnal was not with you because when first years began being added to squads you were thrilled to be with Rhiannon and Violet, but your excitement was short-lived as Ridoc was the next name called to Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing. He takes his place behind you and you do your best to ignore him as he talks to Sawyer–another member of your squad.

"Ah, look who took my advice!" you feel a tug on one of the two plaits Violet had done on you and you turn with fury.

"Take your hands off me Gamlyn," Rhiannon turns from where she stands next to you, grabbing your hand in an attempt to calm you.

"Someone's fiery this morning," he laughs, "looks good on you princess," he winks again, and before you or anyone else can stop you, the hand Rhiannon didn't have a hold on flew and slapped Ridoc straight on the cheek. He raises his hand to hold his face as you hear a shout a couple of rows ahead of you. "What the fuck?!" Ridoc shouts the shock evident on his face.

"Cadets!" your new squad leader–Dain Aetos–approaches the two of you, "You're a part of a squad now! Act like it. There will be plenty of time to fight during sparring, now behave yourselves." You turn back into formation hearing Ridoc grumbling behind you. Holy shit. What've you just done...? You hit your squadmate! You'd unknowingly unlocked months of intense rivalry between the two of you, all because you couldn't hold your temper.

The weeks went by slower than you thought, days of intense training and studying. Being a rider was a hell of a lot more difficult than you imagined it to be. But the most difficult part was trying to keep your temper around the man who was trying to make your life a living hell. Your other squadmates were fed up with your bickering. It ranged everywhere from trivial arguments about homework to betting who would make it up the gauntlet first when the training was to start. Challenges were going to start soon too, no longer assigned fighting partners and you knew Ridoc would challenge you only to bring revenge on the slap you'd landed on him the first day. But you were smart, you'd started studying his fighting style the moment he stepped onto the mat during the assessment. He held up alright, eventually knocking a tooth out of Aurelie's mouth, but that was before the daily training. As annoying of a squad leader that Dain was, he worked you all hard, and with gauntlet practice approaching too, he ensured you were all eating more than your share of food. Ridoc had gone from a lean floppy-haired boy who teased you on the parapet, to a now filled-out man beating most of his opponents in challenges.

But the most annoying part about Ridoc is that you didn't mind him...he was kind to the people he cared about and there had been more than one occurrence where you had to hold back your laughter from one of his jokes. But it was already over, you'd already hit him and he'd already decided that he would get his retaliation. So now every morning at breakfast you'd have to hear his taunting voice tease you.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

"Does that scowl hurt your pretty face?"

"Seems like the princess hasn't gotten any this week, she's grumpy."

Day after day. Thank the gods when it came to serious moments he seemed to hold back. You were halfway up the gauntlet, about to cross the shaking posts. Only moments earlier Ridoc had been arguing with Tynan about Barlowe, you and Violet had shared a glance, never seeing him lose his temper and it was...kind of hot. He was taunting Tynan from the ground, and you'd expected the same when you began, but he stayed oddly silent. You'd surprised yourself after making it to the top, the training was paying off.

The next week, challenges began, and you were ready. Just as you'd expected Ridoc challenged you. Rhiannon gave you a nervous look as Sawyer tried to talk him out of it.

"Are you sure?" Rhi asked you as you stripped off your flight jacket, leaving you only in your training top and pants with half of your daggers strapped to your belt.

"It's fine, Rhi. We all knew that this was going to happen. Maybe after this, he'll give up and stop annoying the shit out of me." You approach the mat, Ridoc already standing ready, his arms swinging at his sides to pump himself up. Did his shirt get tighter somehow? No. Not the time for that. You shove the thoughts to the back of your mind, trying to bring all the memories of the times he irritated you to the forefront. You take your stance, a dagger in each hand just like he did.

"Ready, princess?" He teased, that gods-damned annoying smirk splayed across his face.

"Begin," Emmeterio announced, and Ridoc pounced. You'd been watching him, he always skirted around his opponents waiting for them to make the first move, but not this time. It caught you off guard but you were able to move away in time, moving around him before throwing out a leg to knock him off balance. It worked for a moment but he was on you again in no time. He was moving fast, but you could move fast too. You hit each other with a series of blocks before you were able to knock a dagger out of one of his hands. He cursed, but that only freed up his hand to be able to grab your wrist, twisting until you dropped a dagger of your own. A gasp left your lips from the pain, and he eased up with the sound. He was going easy on you. Well fuck that. With his guard down you pull him closer, close enough that you could smell his sweat. Damn, why did he have to smell good too? You used that closeness to wrap a leg behind his knee to take you both down to the ground. You were on top of him now, his face contorted in frustration, only the second time you'd seen him lose his temper. He grunted and cursed.

"Fuck!" he shouted from between his teeth. Did you really get him this worked up? You grappled with each other, both of your remaining daggers lost somewhere on the mat, you tried to reach for your belt to grab another one while you were still on top but it made you lose your leverage. He was still stronger than you and you roll so that he now has the advantage above you. All these months he'd been preparing just so he could beat you. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. You've lost all semblance of control and tactic, now just thrashing to get out of his hold. He holds your wrists with one of his hands, his other shooting out with the speed of light to grab the dagger closest to him and bring it to your throat, "Yield!" he shouts louder than necessary. You stared into his eyes above you, his gaze was concentrated, and he knew he'd won. But you continue to stare at him before swallowing thickly, your eyes burned, tears threatened to spill over and his gaze softened, and the pressure of the dagger at your throat lightened significantly. You could use his moment of softness to try to gain back control but it was over, you'd already been humiliated.

"I yield," it was barely a whisper, only enough for him to hear. He gathered himself quickly and reached his hand down to help you up but you ignored it and picked up your daggers from the mat. You were missing one and you knew it was in Ridoc's hands. You turn to him, your gaze still low to the ground refusing to make eye contact. He mutters your name quietly, gently, and holds your dagger out to you, but you just push it back to him before rushing off the mat and gathering your things, leaving the training room. He'd won it, fair and square. You lost all control in that match, what was happening?

The next few days were awkward, to say the least. The rest of the squad tried their best to keep things normal, but nothing was normal without the banter between you and Ridoc. Slowly he seemed to regain some confidence in teasing you, it started light with you just rolling your eye in response, but by presentation day the two of you were in full-on arguments again.

"So how many of us do you think are going to be dragon lunch today?" Ridoc asks as you and the rest of the first years in your squad are waiting for your turn on the gauntlet.

"That's cruel, Ridoc," you reply, not in the place for humor this morning with how nervous you were, and you were sure you were not the most nervous, Violet still couldn't get up the wall.

"We live in a cruel world, princess," he mutters shaking his head. You groan in annoyance, trying your best to hold your temper instead of retorting, instead turning your attention to Violet.

"How are you doing Vi? Is there anything we can do to help?" you weren't much taller than her but those couple of inches were enough for you to bridge the gap to get up the wall.

"I'll be okay," she takes a deep breath, strangely calm for the situation you were about to enter. Luca was behind you two beginning her rant on the dragon she would be choosing. As if. Presentation was for the dragons to decide who was worthy and who would be torched. The past months had all led up to this. Every breath you took was shallow the entire way up the gauntlet, so aware of every step you were making and how fast you were making them. You released a breath once you reached the top, the rest of your squad cheering for you. Ridoc was right behind you breeching the top of the sloped wall, he whoops and gathered Rhiannon and Sawyer into hugs, the three of them laughing before he turned to you, a huge smile still on his face.

"Nice work Gamlyn," you say giving him a forced smile.

"Ah, a compliment, that's the first one I've received from you, I could get used to this!" He throws an arm around you squeezing you close.

"Way to ruin it," you grumble removing his arm from you before turning your attention back to Violet on the course. Oddly, you miss the warmth of his arm on you. He's always been touchy with the rest of your little crew, often embracing them or keeping an arm on them during meals or classes. You'd even see him press a kiss to Rhi's head after she'd helped him with physics. But with you, he didn't cross that line. Did he hate you that much? Or was it just because he knew how you would react? Your thoughts race as you watch Violet do the same, right before she grabs a rope from the side of the course and hauls herself up. Then using her daggers to climb her way up. This girl was something special. You grin and clap your hands as the rest of your squad cheers.

"That's our girl!" Ridoc shouts, obviously proud of his friend. Some of the other wings began groaning complaining that she cheated but all the noise falls into the background as the rest of your squad huddles up. That was the easy part. Now the next could very well mean your death. You try to calm yourself, hold it together, and keep all semblance of control before the dragons can sense you.

Now at the top, you waited for the other squad to finish before you entered the flight field. One of the other wingleaders stood before you preparing you to enter, instructing you to make small talk so the dragons would get a feel for you as well as recommending staying at least seven feet apart in case another squad member got torched.

"Nice day for presentation," Ridoc jokes 'small talking' with the senior wingleader.

"Not with me, with them," she rolls her eyes at his antics, and gods of course Ridoc will be right behind you annoying you the whole way. You knew you'd have to try your best to be in control or else you'd lose your temper in front of the dragons.

"Lucky me I have a wonderful view to distract me from our impending dooms," Ridoc laughs, anger swelled in your chest. You hear Rhiannon scold him and smack him upside the head, a smirk grows on your face but you stay facing forward.

Your senses feel heightened as you make your way onto the flight field, dragons surrounding the edges, a smile gracing your face at the pure wonder that these creatures held.

"They're pretty incredible aren't they?" you hear the awe in Ridoc's voice behind you, no humor or teasing, just... Ridoc.

"They really are," you respond to him and turn to face him, he was grinning, clearly he was made to be a rider. He turned slightly and met your gaze, his smile not faltering. His eyes shined in the sunlight this high atop the cliffs and you turn back to watch where you're walking before you get caught up in staring at him any longer. Why did this keep happening to you? As you neared the end of the field before turning back you caught sight of the illustrious feathertail, Violet was enthralled, her eyes not moving away from the creature. But your eyes wandered to something else going on only feet away.

A red scorpiontail on the smaller side was sitting peacefully in the sun, she was practically glowing. But what caught your attention was the brown swordtail a little larger than her that approached where she sat. He nudged her with his nose, seeming to almost mutter things at her before he rolled on top of her putting what seemed to be his entire weight on her. The red reared up, a deep growl leaving her throat, drawing the rest of your squad's attention to the two dragons. The brown stood again, circling the red while making grunting sounds to her, right before she swung her neck and snapped her massive teeth at the swordtail.

"Hey, princess," Ridoc is right beside you now, his voice hot on your neck from where he leans down close to your ear. "That red looks like you during math lessons, so grumpy," he's whispering to not draw attention to the two dragons, but you make the deadly mistake of reacting.

"Well if you helped me like you did everyone else maybe I'd be fine!" you turn to face him, a scowl traced between your brow, unbeknownst to you two it drew the attention of the two dragons.

"Woah now you look even more like her!" he laughs quietly before reaching out a finger to poke right between your eyebrows where your scowl formed.

"Ugh! You're insufferable!" you turn on your heel expecting to walk ahead of him again before coming face to face with the red scorpiontail. Your breath stopped and fear coursed through you. You heard Ridoc gasp your name.

"Don't fucking move," his words are seethed between his teeth but you barely resonate them. You feel the dragon's hot breath on your face, the smell of sulfur strong. "Please don't die, please don't die," Ridoc repeats the mantra as if it will help seal your fate. You keep your eyes low to the ground not daring to make eye contact, knowing that would be your death sentence. The dragon's gaze moves from you and you take the opportunity to look at her face. She was incredible. And her eyes were locked on Ridoc. Shit. But you didn't have time to assess your feelings before the massive creature was tackled to the ground by the brown swordtail.

You released your breath staring at the creatures fighting in front of you. Their roars echoed through the field as the chuffs of other dragons were heard from the edges as if they were egging the two on. You felt someone grab your hand and you were tugged to the beginning of the field again. You meet up with your squad about 20 feet ahead where Rhiannon is standing in front of the burnt corpse of Pryor, you hear Luca start to say something about him right before she gets torched right in front of your eyes. You gasp holding on tighter to the hand in yours, Ridoc's hand. Once you realize you dropped it immediately, but not before Violet could notice. You risk a glance behind you to look for the red scorpiontail again, praying she is alive. But the sight you were fixed with was not one you were expecting to see. The two dragons were still on the ground fighting, but they were both still alive, the brown was a bit bigger, you had expected him to take the red down fast, but there they still were.

"Come on, let's go!" Ridoc urges you, pulling on your arm yet again.

"Wait, Ridoc, watch them!" You were captivated, and surprisingly, Ridoc stopped pulling and watched the dragons with you. "They're playing."

"No, they're fighting, let's go," he tugs again, and this time you comply. His hand doesn't release yours until you're off the flight field.

The mess hall that night seemed a hell of a lot smaller after having lost so many first years in one day. You were sure there would be even less after threshing. Your squad was down two more people now. You sat with Rhi, Violet, Sawyer, and Ridoc who were all discussing the dragons you'd seen today. Rhiannon talks about a green that had been all up in Violet's business while you and Ridoc were being intimidated by the red scorpiontail, while Violet says she didn't feel a connection to any of them.

"What about you?" Rhiannon says your name, drawing you into the conversation. You open your mouth to speak but before you could Ridoc interjects.

"Well, I for one think that red scorpiontail already loves you. You two even have the same frown and grumpy demeanor!"

"Shut up, Ridoc," you turn your attention to Rhi. "But yeah, I did feel drawn to her..." your voice went quieter.

"Well you might as well go for that brown then, Ridoc," Sawyer speaks up. "with how annoying he was being to that red those two dragons are practically you guys already." He laughs, the girls nodding in agreement.

"You wound me," Ridoc puts a hand to his heart, "but unfortunately I think that guy took down the red so the princess is gonna have to find another dragon." No. He didn't, you knew that both of the dragons were still alive, and it pissed you off that Ridoc decided to taunt you about it when you'd just said you were drawn to that red.

"They were just playing Ridoc!" you shout, sounding almost childish with your insistence.

"Yeah right," his words muffled by the food in his mouth.

"They were! Don't you think one of them would've already been dead by the time we turned around? And neither of them were going for death blows, it was almost like they were sparring or something..." you mumble out the end, brows knitting as you think about it.

"Maybe it's their form of flirting then," Ridoc jokes, earning him a groan from Rhiannon. "What? If I were a dragon that's how I'd try to get a girl, relentless teasing, tackling her to the ground, you know that sort of thing." Ridoc shrugs and the wheels in my brain start turning.

"And that's why you mostly sleep with men..." Violet says under her breath, she and Rhiannon start to giggle.

"Hey! I'll have you know I can pleasure a woman just as well as I can a man. The women at Basgiath are just too controlling, I like to be in control," Ridoc smirks, leaning back in his seat. Why did he have to talk about this... now that's all you could think about. Your memory shifts to when he challenged you, his hands pinning your wrists, his body on top of you. You shake your head to try to clear the thoughts, this was your rival for god's sake! Why were you thinking like this?

"Really? You're the controlling one in bed?" Sawyer scoffs in disbelief.

"Don't sound so shocked. From my experience, everyone needs to give up control every once in a while, and the bedroom is an excellent place to do it when you have someone like me to be in charge." Oh. Fuck. You try to take a drink of water to cool your burning nerves but all it does is cause you to choke on it. You sputter trying to catch your breath, "You okay there, princess? Not scaring you off am I?" Ridoc winks at you. Okay. That's enough. Time for a cold shower and bedtime, surely you wouldn't feel like this in the morning. You ignore his comment and excuse yourself from supper before rushing to the showers.

It was late when Violet and Rhiannon returned to the barracks, you lay there pretending to be asleep. Even when Violet brought up the fact that you seemed off at dinner. Fuck, you really had to pull yourself together before threshing next week, or Ridoc was going to make your life miserable with his teasing.

You managed to make it through the week without drawing too much attention to yourself, though Ridoc was still relentless when it came to teasing you. But the morning of threshing was...rough to say the least. Everyone's nerves were on fire, even the ever-confident Ridoc was vomiting behind a tree. You grimaced feeling sorry for him, he might not show it but he wanted to succeed, just as you all did. Professor Kaori advised on what to do when approaching a dragon, he also said that if a dragon had already chosen you they'd be calling you. Okay, what is that supposed to feel like? You snark internally. You had no idea what to expect when entering the valley. It was happening too fast, you heard Ridoc instruct the rest of your squad to stay alive and you all went your separate ways.

You'd been walking through the valley for hours now, and the sun was falling low on the horizon giving you one maybe two hours maximum. If you were any other person you'd be wondering if there were even any dragons left out here, but you felt in your bones that your dragon was still out here, you just had to find them fast enough. You neared the ends of the boundaries only a few miles left within them, you'd managed to avoid other dragons thus far and only ran into one other cadet–a girl from Third wing–who looked so frightened that you would kill her that she ran off right away, like a dragon would choose that. The further you walked the stronger the hum in your body felt, you were getting close. The setting sun shone through the trees illuminating the path and if it weren't for the sun, you would've entirely missed the glint to your right side. You turned, hand ready on your dagger, but once you met her gaze you knew the beautiful creature wouldn't hurt you.

The red scorpiontail stepped out of the shadows of the forest, the sun glinting off her scales making them look like rubies. It was the dragon from presentation. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face as she walked closer to you, she was alive. You stood, watching her in awe as she circled you sniffing you and feeling you out before a warm grumble sounded in her throat.

"Will you come with me?" her voice echoed in your head, elegant but firm, she was not asking you, she was telling you to come with her, or you would not return.

"If you’ll have me…" You didn't want to scare her off so you held your palm out to her, letting her run her face along you, the warm scales felt so naturally under your hand. She turned to the side in a silent order to climb on her back. You made the movements and took your seat. This was unlike anything you'd felt, you were a rider.

"Now hold on, squeeze your legs, and keep your grip," you don't know if you'd ever get used to hearing her voice in your head. You do as she says, you keep your grip and hold on. The wind through your hair is like nothing you've felt before, tears sting your eye from the brightness of the setting sun. As you climb higher into the sky you look around you, you're a good five miles from the field where all the new riders are landing their dragons. Over the wind, you're able to hear the loud shouts of someone all too familiar. You look to your left and see Ridoc on the top of a brown swordtail, again the same one from presentation. What are the fucking odds?

"Look at us, princess! We're riders!" the joy in his tone is infectious and you can't help but smile as he risks throwing one of his hands in the air to feel the wind. Despite your joy, you feel grumbles beneath you and look down to see your dragon shooting sideways glances at Ridoc's dragon.

"Are you alright?" you shout over the wind, "Do you not like that dragon? We saw you two the other day!"

"Not so loud girl, I can hear your thoughts just fine. I know you saw me, dragons remember much better than humans," Her tone is short, clearly she's irritated.

"That's Ridoc, he hates me." you give the whole 'mental talking thing' a go.

"Don't be stupid, girl, I said I saw you two that day, he was begging for me not to kill you."

"Well I saw you two that day too, you're practically shooting fire through your eyes at his dragon now but the two of you were rolling around in the grass together the other day..." Shit. Maybe you shouldn't have said that, red dragons are known for being notoriously angsty. A grumble reverberates through her chest as she flies faster, and out of range from Ridoc and his dragon.

"Aotrom has been trying to mate with me since we were adolescents, we're both still too young to mate but he doesn't seem to give up,"

"Oh so he likes you, that's what this is about."

"Yes but he's insufferable about it, you saw him, he laid on top of me!" her body seemed to grow even hotter with the annoyance running through her. This conversation was all too familiar.

The two of you continued talking until you landed most of the cadets already back. It was odd but strangely comforting talking to Cairistìona, the two of you feeling the same things.

Ridoc had landed just after you, running over and pulling you in a hug before spotting Rhiannon and doing the same to her. He was too excitable, you don't even know if he noticed it was you he was hugging. Rhiannon came over to you and gathered you in her strong arms.

"I'm so happy!" She squealed. "Fierge told me that's the same red you saw in the field the other day."

"Yeah, Cairis," You return her embrace and turn your head to look where you left her. Aotrom–Ridoc's dragon–was rubbing against her like a cat and chortling, she whipped her head around and blew a small cloud of fire at the brown dragon.

"Hey!" you hear Ridoc shout, running over to Aotrom. "Tell her to back off!"

"Oh he's fine," you defend Cairis walking to where she bares her teeth at Ridoc. "Dragons are fireproof, and besides, he was in her personal space."

"He likes her, can't you tell her that!" he cries, Aotrom lowering his nose to receive attention from Ridoc, gods these boys were going to be menaces.

"Tell the boy I already know and don't want to talk about it." Cairis turns her head in a pout.

"She knows Ridoc, and she doesn't care, maybe you should tell him to leave her alone!" you fold your arms across your chest, watching Ridoc as he walks closer to you.

"Oh please, he's not going to give her up, she's his mate!" your voices arguing carried across the field, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Sawyer and Rhiannon approaching and you briefly worry about Violet.

"Not yet she's not! And I pray to Amari they never do mate because that means I'll have to spend the rest of my life miserable!" the two of you are inches apart now his warm brown eyes staring into yours.

"Woah, woah, calm down guys," Sawyer says as Rhiannon pulls you back.

"You have no idea, princess I'd rock your world," he smirks and you're sure your face blooms red, out of anger or because he flirted. You had not a clue.

"Want me to torch him? He reminds me of a certain dragon, maybe they can burn together..." you hear Cairis' voice in the back of your head.

"NO." Your response is too quick and you know it.

"Oh...you don't like him do you?"

"No, I just...he's still my friend...I think. He just annoys the ever-loving shit out of me. And don't pretend you'd kill Aotrom too, we both know you could've killed him already."

"Don't forget your place little one," Cairis' voice looms louder before she turns with a whip of her tail, the poison barb inches from Aotrom's face. "Now go to your friend she just returned, the Empyrean has much to talk about now."

Violet was certainly a force to be reckoned with, you'd learned that early on. But bonding two dragons? And one of them being one of the most powerful...gods, she was something. The Empyrean discussed while the rest of your squad sat in the grass and waited. Rhiannon and Sawyer separated you and Ridoc before you got into any more arguments. This was good because Ridoc was going on and on about how hard he was going to be celebrating tonight with the rest of the new rider cadets, as well as deciding who he wanted to take to bed. You couldn't help the annoyance (jealousy?) that came from it.

"Yeah right, Gamlyn, like anyone wants to go to bed with you after the long day we've had," you scoff, not able to hold back your comment.

"I can be relaxing, want me to show you, princess?" He retorts. How does he always have something to say back?!

"Down boy," Rhi jokes, "she already has to deal with you and now she has to deal with your dragon too, give it a rest." You throw Rhiannon a thankful gaze before your dragons approach you again.

"Time for you to sleep girl, we start flight maneuvers this week, rest up." You stand to greet Cairis and her head nestles in your hands. She seemed to have a bit of a temper but you knew she would do anything to protect you now. You were bonded. So you watched her launch into the sky before heading back to the caves of the Vale, Aotrom following behind her like a love-sick puppy.

The next few weeks grew harder, all your free time thrown into school work and flight maneuvers, and since Violet was attacked Dain has ordered squad hand-to-hand combats every Tuesday night. You could tell that even Ridoc was getting weary, his comments to you had just turned to eye rolls. He would still throw one in now and again during flight, Cairis and Aotrom's petty snaps at each other made it difficult for you not to fight with one another. You'd managed to talk Cairis into being gentler with Aotrom–at least when you were around–if only to give you a slight sense of peace. But just like his rider, Aotrom was untamable.

It was a Tuesday night, you were in the training room and everyone began to spar with one another. Ridoc had tried to convince Liam to join him but Liam refused now that he was Violet's guardian so Imogen stepped in. You and Sawyer worked on your blocks with one another when Xaden and Garrick walked in. The two stripped their shirts off and began to spar with one another. You hear a low whistle as Violet and Rhiannon, even Imogen from where she held Ridoc in a headlock had their heads turned to watch the bulky, chiseled men fighting each other. To be fair it was boiling in the training room that night, the heat was cranked due to the cold December snows, and nearly every man had his shirt removed, including Sawyer across from you and the girls all in their training vests. Ridoc taps in fast succession before Imogen releases him and you're all dismissed by Dain for a water break. You chug from your bottle as Rhiannon approaches next to you.

"Did you see those two?" she asks you, talking about Xaden and Garrick. They were sure something to look at, their winding rebellion relics and dragon relics covering them. "Makes me feel way too straight looking at them..." she draws off and you giggle at her, looking over to see Violet who is practically drooling at Xaden.

"I don't know if I want to be them or be with them," you hear Ridoc speak from the other side of you. You turn to see him drinking his water, small dribbles falling down his chest–his now bare chest–as he pants heavily. You thought Xaden and Garrick were something sure... but Ridoc...holy Dunne. You knew he'd gained some muscle since he'd gotten here, but you didn't know he was fully jacked now! His body was fully carved by the gods. Maybe he wasn't as chiseled as Xaden or built like an ox like Garrick but he was...perfect. Your body grows hotter than it already was your mind racing. Why were you reacting like this to Ridoc of all people? Sawyer was just as attractive and way nicer. It had been happening way too often for this to just be a one-time thought.

"Ever occur to you maybe you like him?" Ciaris asks, listening to your thoughts.

"Not now," You reply quickly before putting up your shields and blocking her out.

"Hey, princess, want a rematch?" Ridoc asks, a grin plastered on his face. "No weapons this time?" You're sure your face was bright red at this point, your whole body at that. You just shake your head before gathering your stuff, haphazardly throwing your flight jacket on. You had to get out of here now.

"Hey where are you going?" you hear Violet call to you as you leave to ask Dain if you can leave early to finish homework.

"I have way too much homework, gonna see if Dain'll let me off 30 minutes early," you respond, still walking to your squad leader. He gives you the okay, and you go to walk past the rest of your squad before leaving the training room.

"I thought we were studying tonight for the math exam tomorrow?" Sawyer asks and you halt your steps. Oh shit, you'd forgotten, and Ridoc would have to be there, he was the best of you at math.

"Oh...um-yeah! Just wanted to shower first, just come to my room, we can study in there." Right a cold shower, would help. Then it would be fine to see Ridoc again, with his shirt on.

The cold water sprayed over you and you quickly cleaned yourself and washed your hair, rinsing away all your impure thoughts with the water. Once back to your room, you run oil through the ends of your long hair, still not having cut it since parapet, though now you'd kept it safely tied back. It was so much nicer to have your own room after being in the barracks for months. You sit at your desk and look over your workload, deciding to get some history done before the others come to study.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed before there was a knock at your door. You leap up from your chair, a smile on your face ready to greet the rest of your crew, but when you open the door your smile falls.

"Really? Are you that disappointed? I thought you were lightening up, didn't realize you were still a brat," Ridoc walks into your room and shuts the door behind him, flopping on your bed like he lived in there–at least he was clean, you could tell by his damp, tousled hair.

"Where are the others?" you ask turning from where you still stand by the door in your loose black sleep pants and a vest.

"'Hi Ridoc, hello, nice to see you' would be the appropriate response," he taunts, tossing his bag on the ground before laying back on your bed, his hands behind his head. You don't even respond to him, only giving him an annoyed look before he rolls his eyes and answers your question. "Sawyer took a fist to the face from Aetos, Rhiannon is taking him to the healers, broken nose. And Violet has whatever she has going on with Riorson...I don't even want to know. They said to go without them, that you'd need the most help with math anyway." He sits up again on your bed scooting to the edge, seemingly not able to sit still.

"Whatever, I'll just fail, you can go back to your room," you complain heading to your desk and shutting your history books.

"No, it's okay, princess. I can help you."

"I don't want your help, Ridoc, just go," You turn and face where he sat on your bed, his face unreadable.

"Seriously? You're that proud?" his words strike you across the face, his mouth turned downward in a frown as he stands and takes a step towards you.

"I'm not proud!" you fumed, "I just know you're going to tease me for being so shitty at math!"

"You think that little of me?" he takes another step forward, "Sure, I like to tease you but don't mistake me, I wouldn't tease you over something you struggle with!" this is the most serious you've seen him. But you still have some confidence left.

"Really?! Because you've already done that!" you shout back at him, thankful that you have a sound shield on your door so no one hears you seething at each other.

"When?!" he retorted, throwing his arms to the side in confusion. You wrack your brain, looking for the right words to describe how it had made you feel.

"Every-fucking-day Ridoc! It's constant taunting and I just don't know how to respond! With everyone else, you're nice and funny but you just have it out for me! I know I started it when I slapped you, and I know I don't make it easy with how I respond, but I thought at least when you humiliated me after challenging me you would let go!" tears are welled up in your eyes from the amount of anger you feel. You thought you'd get Ridoc with that, you thought he'd break and apologize like the nice guy you know he is, but a terrifyingly playful smirk grew on his lips.

"Ever take a moment and think it's cause you're always acting like a brat, princess?" he takes another step towards you and another, and another, until he's hovering over you, your back pressed against your desk, his face only inches from yours. "Yes, I tease you, I tease all our friends, but you're the only one who stays acting like I'm some sort of fucking villain when I stop." You think about it. Truly think about it. Were you the only one? He was an over-confident smart-ass he made comments to everyone, so why did it bother you so much?

"Ah, cat got your tongue?" your breath is caught in your throat and you watch as he raises a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Y'know, I saw you staring at me tonight, you're not nearly as sly as you ought to be..." he was fucking teasing you again. But the way he was doing this...gods your body was on fire.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you lie, your voice barely a whisper. You look up and meet his eyes, his warm eyes, pools of chocolate that you could just melt in, and he is looking at you, really looking at you. In this moment you felt as if he could read your soul on a piece of paper.

"We both know that's not true," his voice dangerously low and confident. "And I think we both know that all you need..." his hand that tucked your hair behind your ear moves and he begins to trace your neck with the backs of his fingers, "is to give up control." You know your heart is beating out of control now. His hand now moved to grasp the side of your neck tightly, his other hand braced on the desk behind you. You were trapped against his body, the same way you were trapped when he held you against the mat, and it felt so good.

Before you could ask him for more, or surge up to kiss him like you may or may not have thought of doing while you were in the shower, he moves away and your body slinks in disappointment.

"Wanna know why I tease you?" he asks, his back turned to you as he picks up the trinkets on your bedside table.

"Desperately," you sigh out, hoping for an actual answer. He turns again a smirk on his face as he looks at the absolute mess he'd made of you already. He backs up and sits on the edge of your bed again, his legs spread wide before he answers you.

"Because it riles you up."

"Well I think I gathered that," you roll your eyes and look down at your hands.

"That first day after the parapet, I couldn't get over how fucking sexy you looked with that annoyed face," Oh. You knew this was heading somewhere, but for him to flat-out call you sexy made you press your legs together, "I can't get enough of it, even now." he looked away, all of his confidence suddenly gone. "And I wanted to see if once, once, you'd lose it."

"Lose it?" you question, and he laughs at you before running a hand through his dark hair.

"It happened once when you slapped me, and I thought it was going to happen again when I challenged you, but instead, you melted in my hands like a fucking puddle," he shakes his head and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again, embarrassment evident on your features, "Awe, don't be embarrassed, princess." Gods, why was every fucking word he was saying making the wetness pool in your core?

"Ridoc?" You ask him, taking a step away from the desk and towards him, he hums in response, looking you over from head to toe, studying every inch of you. "You said that night, after presentation, that if you wanted to get a girl, you'd just 'tease her' and 'tackle her to the ground' like Cairis and Aotrom," you felt a bit silly saying his same words over again but continued, your voice still quiet, "is that...what you've been doing with me?" You take another step forward, "all the taunting, then challenging me...was that you trying to tell me you like me?" You were close enough to him now that he could just reach out and grab you, and he did.

Ridoc grabbed your arm and pulled you straight between his legs, the largest smile you'd ever seen from him taking up his entire face.

"Took you long enough to figure that out, princess," and there you were, in the arms of Ridoc Gamlyn, the man you'd argued with and fought with for the past several months, and it felt incredible. He seemed like a completely different person, but he wasn't. It was you and your perspective that changed, you were feeling what it felt like to just give into him, letting him tease you and taunt you for his pleasure, giving up your control.

"And do you remember what I said after that?" your breath caught in your throat at the memory. He liked to be in control, in charge. You nodded shyly from where you stood between his legs, all your confidence now lost. His hands that held your arms moved up to cradle your face, and you melted. "Look at you," he hummed, "Tell me. I want to hear you say what I said." you gathered all your courage and looked him in the eye.

"You said that everyone needs to give up control at some point..." your voice still low and quiet. "and that in the bedroom with someone like you is a good place for it."

"Seems like someone remembered well. The look on your face after I said that, gods...made me so fucking hard to see you that flustered." you couldn't help but press your legs together at his words, thinking of him getting so worked up over your reaction to him. "I knew after I challenged you just how easily you'd give in, but that was when I realized that it was me and my words that were getting you so fired up and you just don't know how to respond other than with anger." he was reading you like a damned book. How had he gathered all this when you couldn't even realize the capacity of your feelings?

"Y'know you're a lot smarter than everyone gives you credit for, Gamlyn," you smile a bit, opening yourself up.

"Yeah? I think that deserves a kiss," your instincts take over and you roll your eyes at his comment. One of his hands that held your face moved lower, his long fingers wrapping deftly around your throat and applying slight pressure, the annoyance in your face dropped and you felt your body submitting to him, a whine leaving you at the feeling of his hand on your throat. "Really, princess? I thought you were done with the attitude?" His voice is deep and raspy and he licks his lips as he watches your expression. Oh to feel that tongue on your body.

"I'm sorry...I just..." you trail off, your body practically quivering at this point in anticipation.

"'Just-just' what?" He mocks you. Fuck it. You couldn't wait any longer. You surge forward and capture his lips in yours. He's taken aback for a moment but it doesn't last long before he's devouring you. It's a mess of tongue and teeth as he pulls your body against him, his fingers tangling in the hair at the base of your neck, "Still got some fire left in you? We'll see about that..." he mumbles out between kisses.

You're desperate for more, your hands moving all along his body before he picks you up as if you weigh nothing switches places with you, and pushes you back until you're laying against your bed. Your hands reach the bottom of his shirt and you begin to tug wanting more than anything to feel his skin on yours, but he stops you. Oh. Was he upset? You thought he wanted this...

"Huh uh, princess..." he drawls out, his voice like honey. Okay, he's still turned on, what was this about?! He takes a step back from you, his eyes raking over your body that was on the precipice of convulsing. "I've wanted this for too long, and once I have you...gods, I don't think I'll ever be able to keep myself away from you." your face scrunches in confusion, was he asking you to be his girlfriend right now?

"What do you mean?" you ask, looking for clarity.

Ridoc runs his palms over his face in exasperation before raking them through his still-damp hair. He seemed almost stressed. Whatever control he held just a moment ago, he was letting go of, showing you his full, raw, emotions. "I mean that I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should. And I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I want you fully and wholly. I'll even stop teasing you if that's what it takes for you to say yes! Even though you look so damned cute with your little frown." he smiles at the end of his sentence as if remembering the specific look on your face. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face, as if only now you'd recognize the capacity of your feelings. You'd been drawn to him before but your inability to give in to him was what was holding you back. But you were ready to let go.

"I don't want it to either..." You look him in the eye and reach out to pull him into you again, placing a small kiss on the tip of his nose before continuing. "I want you to have me, I'm done running away from you. Take me, Ridoc." You took his hands that were still nervously tangled in his hair and place them on your waist, a physical way of showing him what you just told him.

"I want you to be sure, sweetness. I don't know if I can hold myself back from you, I can get prettyyy...excited." He grips your waist harder, testing the waters.

"I want you to take charge, Ridoc, I want you to do whatever you want to me, I'm at your mercy," you're all but begging him at this point to just give you everything he's teased to you.

"Fuck..." He groans out, leaning down and burying his face in your neck causing the flesh on your arms to rise at the feeling. He places sloppy kisses there, searching for the spot that will drive you nuts. Once he hears your little moans as he kisses the spot right behind where your jaw and earlobe meet he begins to nip and suck, marking you for everyone to see. "Y'know when I pinned you to that mat, I was about certain you were going to finish right there, sadly I was mistaken. But I learned that you seem to really like being beneath me." Even then he could tell that you were lost in him, and he took this opportunity to put you in the same position he held you in that day.

You lay with your head at the top of the bed, Ridoc's hands pinning your wrists to the pillow behind you, his legs tangled in yours. You moan lightly at the sight above you as he works kisses down your chest and to your cleavage where your shirt cuts off. You try to move your hands to reach down and take off your top, but his grip on your wrists is firm. You hear him laugh at your attempt pathetically against your chest, the heat of his breath causing a shiver to run down your spine. You whine at the loss of your ability to move, your body on fire for him to touch you more, but he keeps lingering with his hot lips all over your neck and chest.

"What? Want more?" He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes glazed over and lips swollen. He looked utterly sinful.

"Please..." you beg, attempting to move your arms again to see if his grip has loosened.

"I think that's the first time you've ever used that word with me," he ignores your plea and licks down your chest, his teeth nipping the edge of your top, pulling it down slightly.

"Ridoc, please, you said you wouldn't tease!" your voice raises slightly a sliver of shame entering your body with how you were begging him.

"Well that wouldn't be as much fun," he states but removes his hands anyway and moves them to the bottom of your top moving it up inch by inch, feeling your warm skin beneath his hands, "you're so fucking hot when you beg for me." his hands reach the bottom of your unbound breasts and his fingers creep up tauntingly. Your now free hands shoot out and reach for him, you sit up your mouth going straight for his, you couldn't get enough of how good he tasted. "Slow down there, princess, mm-wanna take my time," he murmurs through your lips.

"You've made me wait long enough...please just take me," he seems to let go at your words, his hands fully enveloping your breasts and squeezing, a hum sounds from his throat at the feeling. His fingers move to pluck at your hardened peaks, and you move yours to the edges of your top, breaking the kiss to remove it.

"Oh, gods, knew you'd look this good," Ridoc says, his voice just as desperate as you felt. But you waste no time, as soon as your shirt is removed you start pawing at his to take it off. Once it's off you wrap your arms around him mouth moving to his neck to taste him just as he did to you, the feeling of your hot skin together driving you mad. He grunts at the sensation of your mouth on his neck, only giving in momentarily before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he stands up. As soon as he stood he reached for the waistband of his pants and removed his belt in one motion and undoing the button. He takes off his pants quickly, his painfully hard cock bouncing up to hit against his toned stomach. Wow. Ridoc talked a big talk when it came to his dick. You'd always thought it was a part of his jokes, but the evidence was here in front of you and he was not joking.

"Oh gods..." You moan out at the sight, not being able to hold back from sinking to your knees in front of him as he tugged at himself, "Please let me taste you."

"Hmph, not today," He says and reaches down to help you off your knees and shove you back onto the bed, "I'm about to finish just seeing you on your knees, and I want to cum inside you first." His words are filthy and it spurs you on more. You sigh dejectedly, your mouth watering at the sight of his leaking tip, you can't help but reach a hand out to try and feel him, but he slaps your hand away, pushing on the middle of your chest until you're lying flat against the bed. "I said, not today, or don't you want me to taste you first? Don't you think you deserve it? You've been so patient...but I can always take it back and wait till tomorrow to fuck you..."

"No! Please! I'll be good, I'll stay put!" you sit up on your elbows, an acute fear growing in your body at the thought of him leaving you here until tomorrow.

"Hm, that's more like it," Ridoc approves, removing his hand from his cock and to your pants, dragging them and your panties down far too slowly. You do your best to be patient and hold back your whines, you know that it's a test. He kneels in front of the bed and spreads your legs open his calloused fingertips running along the inside of your thighs, drawing up closer to your center. "I really did get you worked up didn't I?" Ridoc remarks before dragging a fingertip through your dripping wet core. You don't hold back your sounds knowing he's about to make you feel incredible.

Ridoc's mouth on your pussy is unlike anything you'd felt, he meant it when he said he knew how to pleasure a woman just as well as a man. Your hands moved and threaded through his mop of hair as he licked and sucked, hardly letting up at all. One of the hands that held your thighs tightly moved to your lower stomach and pressed down to keep you from squirming, a hard grunt coming from his throat in warning. The other hand moved lower and rubbed at your clit in slow motions. It was all too much, the pleasure coursing through your veins, the realization that Ridoc was the one making you feel that good. You were a mess.

The fingers on your clit slipped lower and teased at your entrance a finger slipping in at a slow pace. You whine, trying to buck your hips forward in an attempt for it to go deeper.

"Ah ah, what did I say?" Your whines echo through the room at his words but you comply anyway, stopping your squirming. He makes a noise in approval before continuing his ministrations, adding another finger and pumping them gently, all while switching between long strokes and little licks with his tongue on your clit. Your body convulses when he curls his fingers into a spot that makes you see stars. Ridoc doesn't move fast in this process and doesn't try to bring you to your peak immediately. His strokes are consistent and thoughtful, he notices your reactions to every single one of his movements and plays to them. He's deliberate with his motions and brings you to peak gently, continuing his gestures throughout.

"Please, fuck me now, Ridoc, I don't want to wait," You tug at his hair trying to bring him up to kiss you. But he stays, lapping up your release before pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs. Then your stomach. All along your hips. No place is untouched by his lips. "Ridoc!" you beg louder, pulling harder at his hair. His hands grip your waist tighter, fingers digging with a pressure that you were sure to feel tomorrow. But he doesn't stop peppering your body with kisses, ignoring your words. "Baby please..."

"That's enough," he scolds, pulling on your hips and flipping you onto your stomach. He grabs your ass roughly before bringing his other hand down on it in a slap. You squeal at the act but pleasure runs through your core all the same. "You want to be fucked? Hm?" His voice degrading. "Let's see how you handle it then." He says before slapping his hand on your ass again and plunging into you in succession.

"Fuck!" your voice pitches at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

"Yeah? You begged for it, princess. Now take it," Ridoc's voice was rough and demanding, the sound of it made your mind reel. You let your body and mind give in to the feeling. The sound of his hips slapping your ass and the feeling of his balls hitting your clit with the angle made your head go foggy. All it was was you and Ridoc. Your bodies were one as he pounded into you. He fucked you hard, a contrast from just minutes ago when he was gently licking into your cunt, and you couldn't get enough of it.

You lean back and face Ridoc, watching the fucked out look on his face took you to a new level. You reached back to grab the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours. You needed him everywhere. "Please," you risk your words, "I want to look at you." His controlling guise fell for a moment as he gave in to your plea.

"Alright, sweetness" he listens, pulling out momentarily to turn you onto your front before plunging back into you. Moans tumble out of your mouth as you revel in the new angle, his cock pushing deeper into you. His head falls to the crook of your neck and he presses sloppy kisses all along you. You grasp at his face, needing to feel his lips on yours as you feel the resistance at your core pulling tighter. Your sounds get louder as you get closer and Ridoc's hand reaches down to play with your clit. "That's it, you're taking me so well." He groans out, his face turning up in pleasure. He was just as close as you were. It reaches you faster than it did the first time, the orgasm peaking quickly and hard. Ridoc fucks you through it, his thrusts growing sloppier as he gets closer. He looks at you with a questioning gaze.

"Fill me up, Ridoc, please," you answer his unasked question, knowing you were both on the fertility supplement that Basgiath provided. That was all the permission he needed before he thrust a few more times and spilled inside of you. The warm feeling almost brings you to finish a third time. His head falls to your chest as he breathes deeply, trying to catch his breath. You comb your fingers through his hair and press a kiss to the top of his head, a smile gently growing on your face.

He catches his breath for another moment before pulling out and standing. He picked through his clothes on the ground and slipped on his boxers and loose pants.

"Are you leaving?" you as suddenly, your voice tinged with fear. You sit up and try to cover yourself with your hands. Ridoc stands up straight, his long-sleeved shirt in hand.

"No, princess, don't worry," He smiles and hands you his shirt to put on before taking a tissue from your desk and moving closer to you. He gently pushes you to lay back again and brings the tissue to clean between your thighs. A soft gasp escapes you from the sensitivity, "Shh, sh, it's okay." Ridoc's voice was so soft, so thoughtful. Your heart melted as you thought of his earlier comments. He's liked you for so long now, more than he should in his words. You let him finish cleaning you and lay back in your bed, finding the covers and crawling under them, holding out the edge for Ridoc to come under as he walks back from turning off the light.

The moonlight that shined through the window barely illuminated your room as you lay next to Ridoc, he lay against your chest, arms wrapped around your waist. You rest your head atop his as your fingers trace the relic that Aotrom left him on the top of his muscular arm. He buries his head deeper into you before speaking.

"I don't think Cairis will be very happy about this," You laugh at his comment but know it's true, you let your shields down just slightly letting her presence flow through you.

"I'm not," her voice deadpan and sharp. Well, you can deal with it later.

"She'll get over it," You respond, letting your eye drift closed.

"Maybe, she'll learn from you and let Aotrom in," Ridoc thinks aloud, "He's very convinced that she's his mate and that she's going to give in soon enough. You did with me..." You smile, thinking of your dragons and the similarities you all share. You'd noticed it before, everyone had. Maybe it was just a matter of time before Cairis would give into Aotrom's relentlessness. You sort of hoped that she would if her feelings were anything like yours.

"Don't get your hopes up..." Cairis enters your head again, clearly annoyed.

You woke the next morning far too late, the early morning sun was shining through your window. Fuck. Your math exam. You sit up out of your bed quickly, noticing that Ridoc had already gone and you briefly remember him kissing you on the forehead before he left for his early watch duty before classes. You smile to yourself at the memories of last night, but only give yourself a second before rushing up and gathering all of your things for class and running straight there, knowing you'd already missed breakfast.

At least the math exam was first thing this morning so you could get it over with, but unfortunately, you were most definitely failing after not studying last night. The class was about to start as you entered and Violet waved a hand over to where she and the rest of the first years of your squad were sitting. Ridoc smirks at you and scoots over to make room for you. Your friends could tell by your panicked look that something was off.

"You okay?" Rhiannon asks from the other side of Ridoc.

"Yeah, you look tired. How was studying last night?" Sawyer says, turning from his seat in front of you to join the conversation, his nose only healed and not mended telling from the bruises. Before you had the chance to respond Ridoc interjects.

"We uh...didn't get much studying done last night if you know what I mean," he swings his arm over your shoulder and draws you close, planting a kiss on your cheek. You push him away out of annoyance.

"Ridoc!" you chide. "We didn't even talk about if we were going to tell anyone!" you say lower talking only to him.

"What the fuck?!" Rhi shouts, gaining the attention of the rest of the class before grimacing and quieting down.

"They were gonna find out sooner or later, princess, I can't keep my fucking hands off you," he explains, diving in again and pressing another kiss to your neck this time. Shivers run down your spine at the feeling before you remember where you are and push him off of you again.

"What happened?" Violet asks leaning in on the other side of you, Ridoc's hand now moving to grab at your thigh, she looks away in disgust at the sight, "Never mind, I don't want to know..." she fakes a gag, and Rhi and Sawyer look to each other with a mass of confusion before breaking out in laughter.

"They fucked, obviously," Liam says casually from the other side of Violet where he's working on a wood carving.

"Thanks, Liam, like they hadn't gathered that already..." you say sarcastically and bury your head in your hands.

"I'm scarred," Sawyer says, barely able to contain his laughs. You groan in embarrassment as the professor walks in and starts giving directions on the exam. Yep. You were failing. Ridoc caught the worry in your face and he leaned into you.

"It's okay, princess, you can cheat off me," he winks and leans back away, but leaves his hand on your thigh still, giving it a light squeeze. Shit. It was going to be hard to focus now. 

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Buckle up, folks, and prepare yourself for spoilers!

Because we’re going to be analyzing this scene today. And I’m going to explain why Starscream could’ve won.

After D-16’s initial attack, Starscream falls back to recover, and quickly counters with some skilled aerial maneuvers. Here’s a post so you can appreciate it better. Starscream is taking full advantage of his flight ability here. He’s leading the high guard, of course he’s going to be good at flying.

Side note: we don’t know if Starscream is the official leader of the high guard, do we? Maybe he just claimed leadership after they went into exile. It would be fun to think about.

As an extra note: Starscream is using his thrusters to carry both of them, holding D-16 up by the neck.

Extra extra note: D-16 kicks Starscream between the legs.

Now look at this. Here’s when D-16 transforms his foot to kick starscream off.

It all happens in a split second, but I tried my best to get screenshots.

Do you get what I’m trying to show?

Starscream angles his body forward, with the thrusters still on, before D-16 makes contact with him. He sees the kick coming, and he moves to counter it. When he realises he’s not fast enough to counter, he lets go of right D-16 before the impact in order to make sure he’s flung backwards instead of being injured. If he was still holding on, the damage would’ve been far more severe.

Sure, I find it a little surprising that a guy who can fly would fall in his butt, but I think I can explain it away. The thrusters are turned off when he’s kicked, but they return while he’s flying away. I think that may have been accidental. Maybe he intended to right himself midair and fly away but was unsuccessful, maybe he didn’t mean to activate them.

Either way, it contributes to him landing rougher than he would’ve intended. While I’m here, I want to point out D-16’s little swing off the wall to land next to Starscream. Very graceful.

Right before and right after getting punched in the face. There is momentary surprise, but no fear. He doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t take time to recover. One second of scowling, and then “HIT ME!” He doesn’t even need to catch his breath.

Slowing the scene you can see the punches have Starscream’s neck bent at an over 90 degree angle. Not only does he not react to the pain at all, but he also KEEPS ENCOURAGING HIS OPPONENT.

His body language and behavior is confident while he’s being punched. Only when D-16 turns his attention to the crowd does Starscream attempt to free himself.

He’s intentionally antagonizing his opponent, making D-16 drop his guard and focus on giving the crowd a show, he takes the punches like they’re nothing and only tries to break free when D-16 looks away.

Focus on Starscream’s hands here. D-16 loses his focus, Starscream is very clearly trying to pry him off.

And here, just a few seconds later. First his hand is just… sitting there, not making any attempt to pry off the guy squeezing his throat (presumably very painful) and instead continuing to yell (presumably very painful). And then he Grabs and Pulls Him Closer. This isn’t the body language of a person who’s afraid, Starscream was biding his time and waiting for the opportunity to catch D-16 off guard, use a sudden moment of distraction to his advantage.

We only see fear from him at the very end. Only when he sees the arm cannon which is something nobody expected. Not even D-16 himself. From Starscream’s perspective he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike, to overpower an enemy who is stronger but less skilled and experienced than him, all the while giving the troops a good show. And then the guy pulls out THAT THING to his face.

You can see the moment he knew he fucked up. There’s nothing he can do after that except ask for mercy.

It’s my personal belief that had the battle lasted longer, and had D-16 not discovered his Murder Arm, Starscream would’ve won.

And although I’m not disappointed in this outcome, I would’ve also loved if D-16 had the upper hand physically but still got defeated due to Starscream’s cunning and experience. We would’ve seen Starscream show his talent, and seen that D-16 still has a long way to go.

[peanutpinet]

girldad sylus with his daughter and accompanying her to a school event?? like kindergarten graduation, twins and reader are there too and sylus being proud of his little dragon 🥹🥹🥹

All Eyes on His Little Princess (Dragon) - Girl Dad! Sylus & Fem Reader

Disclaimer: This work is completely fiction. I do not own any of the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest and the 2 fanart are drawn by @ng_a10 on X, credit to the two fanart images goes to them.

A/N: hi anon, thank you for requesting. Definitely need more girldad sylus and showing his support for his little dragon T^T thank you for requesting and I hope that this fanfic meets your expectations :’) This won’t take place during little dragon’s kindergarten graduation but more so an annual performance of the students. Let’s say little dragon is 2 years old, turning 3 at the time of this annual performance

“Daddy…” little dragon mumbled in Sylus’ lap as he was finishing up some paperwork

“Yes, my little dragon. What is it baby?” Sylus put the papers down and lifted his little girl up, turning her around and bringing her close to his chest

“You and mama come wright?” little dragon asked, yawning

Seeing his daughter yawn made Sylus smile and kiss her forehead. “Of course we will baby. We’ll be at the very front. Daddy already made sure your outfit will sparkle the most and mama will make you the prettiest one. That’s a promise”

His little dragon smiled in content, squishing her chubby cheeks on Sylus’ chest, making his heart flutter. “What bout uncwle wuke and kwiran?”

Hearing her sleepy voice, Sylus got up from his chair and softly walked to his shared bedroom. “They’ll be there too baby. They would never miss anything in your life. That’s a promise”

Gently, Sylus lowered his daughter into her crib which is right in front of his and yours’ bed, tucking her in with her favourite red velvet blanket that was almost double her size because you insisted on getting an adult-size blanket so you wouldn’t have to buy another one when she gets older.

“Pwomise daddy?” his daughter yawned while hugging the dinosaur plushie, making Sylus smile, stroking his daughter’s hair and cheek. “I promise baby. Sleep now. You need the energy for your performance”

Sylus kissed his daughter’s forehead as he turned on the lavender essential oil diffuser, which would not only help his daughter sleep better but also prepare the room for when he and his wife went to sleep.

Softly closing the door to the room, Sylus went to the kitchen, seeing you packing up some baked goods to share with the other children tomorrow at the school’s event.

Sylus wrapped his large arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck which caught you off guard. Feeling the tingles on your body, the corner of Sylus’ lips curled up and he kissed your shoulder.

“You’re being awfully clingy all of a sudden. Did you upset our little dragon and make her angry at you?” you asked, trying to sound okay when in fact you were still recovering from Sylus’ sudden physical affection

“On the contrary sweetie. Our little dragon was very pleased with me. Slept without any hassle and…” Sylus kissed further up right by your neck, nibbling it a bit

“And she can’t wait for her performance tomorrow. making me promise that we would all come to see her” Sylus mumbled while you can only sigh

“You’re coming right, sy?” you asked and Sylus turned you around so you would face him

Cupping your cheek, Sylus pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything else sweetie”

“Not even your important meeting on sealing that vintage record player you were eyeing for tomorrow?” you asked and Sylus was a bit surprised but suppressed it

“That’s tomorrow?” Sylus questioned, looking at his phone and saw the reminder of the auction tomorrow that was being held in the middle of the night, just a few hours before his daughter’s school performance

“Sy…” you called out to him but Sylus swiped his reminder putting his phone in his pocket and went to hug you

“I’m okay sweetie. I can always find the record player any other time. Sure I might have to pay a bit more than originally if I were to go to the auction but our little dragon is more important to me. She’s been looking forward to this and to hell will I miss it”

Hearing Sylus say how he would much rather miss his auction over missing your daughter’s school made your heart swell. You knew Sylus was willing to go above and beyond for you and your daughter but seeing him taking the parent role very seriously, made you fall for him even more each day.

You tiptoed and cupped his jaw, kissing his cheek which caught him off guard but he didn’t mind it at all. Sylus held your waist to steady you. “Now what was that for, sweetie?”

“Thank you. For taking on this role and willing to do anything for us” you softly replied and Sylus couldn’t help but soften at your statement, rubbing circles around your waist.

“Anytime sweetie. You and our little dragon are my world. With the additional Luke, Kieran, and Mephisto but don’t tell them I say that. I’d do anything for you all. You and our little dragon’s happiness and well-being are my top priority. Now let’s finish packing these delicious treat for the kids tomorrow and get to bed. You look tired already”

Sylus then helped you by cleaning up the kitchen while you were finishing up packing the sweet treats for the other children, teachers, and fellow parents tomorrow. Once you both were done, Sylus didn’t hesitate to carry you bridal style to your shared room which made you giggle but it didn’t take long for the both of you to fall asleep in each other’s arm.

The Next Day - Day of the School Event

Both you and Sylus woke up due to your daughter’s excitement filling the room, practically happily screaming that it was her first school event.

Waking up first, Sylus got out of the bed and kissed your forehead before walking to his daughter’s crib, carrying her out of the crib and nuzzling his nose against her chest. “Oh? Is our little dragon that excited that it’s her first big day?”

His daughter giggled, her tiny hands trying to get Sylus to stop tickling. “Daddy stawpp!! Am pwincess no dwagon”

Sylus stopped his antics and brought his daughter to the bed where you were just barely waking up. “Sure baby, you’re a princess but you’re also our little dragon with the amount of menacing things you’ve done”

Hearing Sylus not fully calling her a princess annoyed your daughter a bit and made her whine to you. “Mama!! Daddy meanie”

You chuckled hearing your daughter whine about Sylus and when you were about to reach for her, Sylus didn’t let her go. “Nu uh sweetie. You’re still tired. It’s still early so go and sleep a bit more. I’ve had Luke and Kieran handle the treats and are preparing to bring them and other goodies to the school”

“B-but…” you tried to protest but Sylus shook his head, kissing your forehead before tucking you under the blanket again

“I’ll take care of everything. You rest a bit more. I’ll get our little dra—-little princess, ready by the time you’re up and ready” Sylus replied and he carried his daughter out of your shared room to get her ready for the day

It took some time and Sylus being splashed by bubbles and soap but he finally managed to clean his daughter and dressed her for the school’s event.

However, right as Sylus carried his daughter out of the room, they heard a loud thunderstorm and rain. Sylus hugged his daughter, allowing her to snuggle against his chest while he finds you, talking on the phone with the school.

“I see. Yes, it’s very unfortunate. I hope everyone is alright. Thank you for letting me know. Yes, stay safe too” you had just gone off the phone with your daughter’s school when you turned and saw Sylus holding your daughter

Sylus didn’t even need to ask you what happened because from the way you replied, the weather condition outside, your expression, it explains everything. You were also about to tell him and your daughter when she turned to look at you.

“Mama? Wrain? No dwance?” your daughter sadly asked and you tried to think of something to keep her happy and excited when Sylus had done so himself

“Who says anything about no performance?” Sylus pitched in, gently lowering your daughter while you walked closer to see what antics he’s prepared to entertain his little dragon

“B-but…wrain daddy” your daughter sadly pointed out but Sylus shook his head

“So what if it rained and there won’t be a performance at school?” Sylus extended his hand to you which you took and brought the two of you to the living room, calling for Luke and Kieran who secretly munched the snacks you prepared last night

Sylus moved some of the furniture around so there was a big space in the middle of the living room, he helped his daughter to the center and signalled mephisto to prepare the spotlight.

“Just because you can’t perform at school doesn’t mean we all don’t want to see you dance, baby” Sylus caressed his little dragon’s cheeks which made her eyes instantly light up

“Wreally?!” she exclaimed while Sylus looks softly at her, nodding

“Of course mini boss!! We would love to see you dance!! You’re the best!! You’ve trained hard!! Let’s go mini boss!!” Luke and Kieran were hyping your daughter who looked even more excited

Sylus then took his place next to you while you played the song your daughter has practiced through multiple times and she got ready then started her performance.

Through it all, not only did Mephisto put a spotlight on her, but Luke and Kieran also threw in some red flower petals around her while recording her performance.

By the end of the performance, the four of you clapped and your daughter rushed to Sylus, eagering to pull him to the center with her and she held both his hands to stand on his shoes.

Sylus who knew what his daughter was up to, allowed her to do as she please and he helped her dance around which made you tear up a bit but of course, your daughter rushed to you and pulled you along with her favorite uncles, Luke and Kieran to dance along together.

By the end of it all, Luke and Kieran napped after having more of your treats, Mephisto also fell asleep. While both you and your daughter were on either side of Sylus, wrapped in a big fluffy blanket by the couch.

[utopeian]

a man who yearns

SUMMARY Having his hands on you keeps him present. Little does Bob know, his touch is what keeps you present.

PAIRING bob reynolds x gender neutral!thunderbolt!reader

GENRE vague relationship, but they like each other, fluff, a lot of nonsexual intimacy

WORD COUNT 1k+

WARNINGS not proofread! reader wears heels and makeup, no mention of Y/N

AUTHOR’S NOTE hi, this is my first time writing for bob! so sorry in advance for the inaccuracies.. this was based off a little dream i had, hehe.. hope y'all still like it, though! <3

The minimal chatter and droning of the television that usually echoes throughout the newly renovated living quarters are absent. A rare occasion. The only way one can get to experience this wholly is to sneak out of Valentina’s galas hours earlier than intended; that’s exactly what you and Bob did. Over, and over, and over again. The rest of the team stopped questioning your sudden disappearances after the first few times, eventually understanding that the two of you need a head-start to recover from social settings.

“I don’t understand it. Just don’t interact with anyone when you get tired, easy!”

“Alexei, that is not how it works.”

Although this time, you might’ve had one too many servings of champagne tonight before booking it out of the flashy venue. You wanted to try something out of your comfort zone, slowly but surely. You knew it was a disaster waiting to happen when you asked Yelena in passing if you should let loose, but you still wanted her validation. (Of course, she enabled you; she always thinks you deserve to let loose).

The tipsy haze slowing your movement and speech might not be clear to you, but it is to Bob. Even if he wanted to drink as much as you so you wouldn’t feel all alone, it would’ve evaporated the moment it entered his system, because of the serum and all. Instead, he settled for the next best thing: being your guardian angel for the night. That’s how the two of you end up on the floor, you using one of the sleek couches as a backrest as he sits across from you. He’d follow you anywhere, no matter how questionable. Bob doesn’t mean to cut your tangent off when he blurts out, “Why are we on the floor again?” He tenses immediately when he imagines your reaction to what he just did. He prepares for the worst.

You blink twice, not too bothered that the topic changed, knowing it had to stop at some point. You don’t really remember what you were going on about, anyway. “Oh! My heels are still on. Don’t wanna get up anymore.” The reason doesn’t make sense, but Bob keeps that comment to himself. The last thing he wants is to upset a tipsy you, or you at any moment in time. He instead focuses on the fact that you don’t hate him just because he diverted your attention away from what you were talking about.

You straighten your legs in front of you from their initial folded position, alternating each polished shoe tip to playfully point in Bob’s direction. Despite your follow-up complaint that you want them off, you do nothing. He knows you’re fully capable of doing things on your own when you want to, that’s only one of the many things he loves about you, but he tries to grab every opportunity to show you that he cares. This is no different. He shuffles in his place and takes advantage of your position as you start talking about a movie you rewatched the other day, oblivious to what he’s planning. 

He reaches over to gently grab the back of your shoe and slips it off your foot, shyly glances up to see that you’re still distracted, then takes the other off. Bob has one heel in each hand and hesitates for a second, thinking of where to put them. The poor, patient soul had really tried to listen to you while multitasking, but your words started running into each other. He didn’t catch the title of the film you were talking about (did you even mention it?). Your monologuing continues as he settles to put them about an arm's length away from the two of you, nodding at whatever you were saying, ensuring the pair was still in pristine condition. 

You fold your ankle over the other mindlessly, not noticing all that’s left to cover your feet are your stockings with some runs at the bottom. A corner of the brunet’s lips fondly quirks up at your action. Bob finally exhales through his nose; he’s thankful he can go back to listening to you properly. Well, he never listens to you fully, though, because he gets distracted by how beautiful you look in the dimly lit space with your makeup a little worn in, how the intimate setting fuels the wildfire spreading throughout his chest. Before he can stop himself, Bob inches closer to you, afraid to startle you but desperate to touch you in any form. As long as it’s you, it doesn’t matter how. Having his hands on you keeps him present. Little does he know, his touch is what keeps you present.

Unknowingly, in a way that makes it look like it’s as simple as breathing, he pulls you softly by the ankles to rest your feet on his lap. His hands don’t leave. Instead, they soothingly circle the inner parts of your ankle. Bob sees you practically melt under his touch, dissolving your train of thought to a sigh of relief. It’s enough to get him giddy; making you feel good makes him feel good. Your eyes flutter closed for a good minute before you remember where you are. “If you wanted me to shut up, y’should have just told me.”

His actions halt for a second, before he continues out of fear of getting chastised. “No! Keep telling me about Mr. Darcy and how a man who yearns is a man who earns.” You smile dopily at him and his heart wants to race out of his chest. You gladly continue.

The distant twinkling of the city lights against the abyss of the night, the occasional sirens and the flashing blues and reds, the humming of airplanes passing. The world around you accompanies your aimless conversation, but in this moment, you forget that you are two out of billions of… everything. It doesn’t matter, these details don’t matter. Everything fades away in the background because you have each other. That’s all you need. 

[calypso-rt]

HELLO SO some stuff is happening to me rn with my frat boy friend and it gave me an idea for a fic 🙈 Could you do a Frat boy! Rafe x Reader that are just friends and he needs a date for his date function, so he asks her? the theme/idea for the date function is that they get handcuffed to each other for the night and they have to drink a bottle of champagne. Definitely flirty friendship (w lotsa tension) but up to u whether anything actually happens or not!

Love love love your works! 🫶

Cuffing Season

-> Frat!Rafe x Reader

-> A/N: this has been sitting in the drafts for AGESSS but it's out. thank you @rafeycameronsgf for such a fun idea

You’re halfway through a paper on political theory when your phone buzzes.

Rafe 😕:

yo u home? emergency. need you.

You sigh. Glance at the clock. 6:47 p.m.

Another buzz.

i’m outside

You blink.

Sure enough, two minutes later: knock knock knock on your door.

You open it, and there he is. Backward hat. Faded hoodie. Grinning like the devil.

“Hey, genius,” he says easily. “You busy tonight?”

You fold your arms. “You’re aware it’s Thursday and I have three papers due.”

He smirks. “Perfect. Then you’ll need a break.”

“Rafe.”

“Listen.” He leans against your doorframe. “I need a date.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“For the function. The handcuff one.”

You stare. “The what?”

He grins. “It’s stupid. Whole theme is we all get cuffed to our date and have to do challenges together. Drinking games. Obstacle courses. Whatever. My original date bailed. But 's for the best since you’re the only person I trust to win me that title, anyway.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And what makes you think I’d say yes?”

He flashes that dangerous smile, the one you’ve seen melt half the campus. "Because you secretly love chaos. And you haven’t been out in weeks."

He’s not wrong. You’ve been buried in your books. And you do like chaos... on your own terms.

Rafe leans in slightly, voice low. "Come on. You know you’ll run circles around these people. I’ll even buy you all your drinks."

You narrow your eyes. "You’re really desperate, huh?"

He smirks. "I’m asking you, aren’t I?"

And despite yourself, despite the very obvious implications of being handcuffed to Rafe Cameron for an entire night, something in your stomach flips.

You sigh. "Fine. But if you annoy me, I’m taking the key and leaving you cuffed to Topper"

His grin turns downright wicked. "Deal."

...

You almost forget why you agreed to this. Until you’re standing in front of the mirror, trying to decide just how good to look.

You’re not a regular at the frat scene. You watch it happen from the edges. You’ve seen Rafe in his element: confident, loud, magnetic, and you’ve always been the one with a knowing smirk in the back of the room, drink in hand, unbothered.

But tonight… cuffed to him?

You smirk to yourself and pick the dress, the one you reserve for nights you want to be remembered.

By the time you’re done, your hair falls in soft waves, your lipstick is a shade deeper than your usual, and your phone buzzes again:

Rafe 😕:

outside. don’t make me come drag you out 👀

You grab your jacket and head downstairs.

When you step out, you spot him leaning against his car, blue jeans, black tee, hands in his pockets.

And when he sees you?

His entire posture changes.

His smirk falters for half a second, like he wasn’t prepared. Then it comes back twice as cocky, but his eyes drag over you like they’re memorizing the view.

“Holy shit,” he says low. “You’re gonna be the reason half this party cries tonight.”

You cock your head. “That good, huh?”

He pushes off the car, crossing the distance in two easy steps. His voice drops. “Better. You’re dangerous like this.”

Your breath catches, just for a second, but you recover fast. “You’re the one who asked for this.”

“Trust me,” he says, leaning in, voice like velvet, “I’ve been wanting an excuse.”

Before you can question that statement, he holds out his hand, handing you some handcuffs. “Cuff me, genius.”

You roll your eyes but your fingers tremble slightly as you fasten the cuff to his wrist, then your own. The click feels louder than it should. When you glance up, his gaze is already on your mouth.

“Ready?” he murmurs.

You lift your chin. “Try to keep up.”

The frat house is already buzzing when you pull up. Bass thumping, bodies moving, lights spinning.

Rafe slides out of the car and pulls you with him, the chain between your wrists forcing you closer than you mean to be.

“You good?” he asks quietly, thumb brushing your knuckles, an excuse, probably, to touch you.

You nod. “I can handle a party.”

“Yeah?” His grin turns wicked. “Can you handle being cuffed to me all night?”

You smirk. “Don’t tempt me.”

Inside, people immediately turn. Rafe Cameron, cuffed to you? It draws attention. Whispers. Stares. He eats it up, throwing an arm around your shoulders, pulling you through the crowd with easy arrogance, but you can feel it: the tension in the way he holds you a little too close, the way his fingers flex against your side.

“Didn’t know you had this in you,” he says against your ear when you pass a particularly wide-eyed group of sorority girls.

You glance up at him, eyes glittering. “You clearly haven’t been paying enough attention.”

He stops walking, just for a beat, turns so you’re facing him, closer than close.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says softly, voice a little rougher now. “You have no idea how much attention I pay.”

Your pulse kicks.

Before you can answer, someone calls your names for the first challenge.

Rafe smirks. “Guess we’ll see if you can really handle me tonight.”

And with that, he tugs you toward the center of the room, handcuffed, heart racing, wondering how in the hell you’re going to survive this night without letting him see how much you already want more.

...

“Cameron! Y/N! You’re up!”

You glance at Rafe, raising a brow. “Remind me again why I said yes to this?”

He grins. “Because you like winning.”

Fair enough.

They call you both to the center of the room where a long folding table is set up, shot glasses in a neat row, alternating liquids. Some tequila, some water, some vinegar (to mess with you), some mystery shots that smell dangerous.

The challenge: One hand each. One person drinks, the other handles the refills. Fastest pair wins.

Rafe looks down at your cuffed hands, then back up at you, eyes glinting. “Guess that’s me and you, superstar.”

You smirk. “Just don’t slow me down.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He leans in close, voice a dark drawl. “Try to keep up.”

The countdown starts. 3… 2… 1… GO!

From the first second, you two are locked in. Seamless.

Rafe flips the first shot toward you with perfect timing. You down it, slam the glass. He grabs the next one, fluid and fast. When it’s his turn to drink, your grip is already on the next glass, waiting.

People start cheering when they see how fast you move.

“Holy shit, look at them!” someone shouts.

But you barely hear them, your whole world is narrowed to the heat of Rafe’s body next to yours, his breath in your ear every time he leans in, the sharp glint of focus in his eyes when he watches you.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs after you knock back a brutal shot without flinching. His hand squeezes yours under the table, fleeting, electric.

You smirk. “Thought you said I couldn’t handle you.”

He laughs, a low, wicked sound. “You might be the only one who can.”

Another round, faster now, you and Rafe moving in perfect sync, like this is a game you’ve been playing forever. The cuffs force you close, shoulders pressed, legs bumping, heat building in every unspoken glance.

By the time you slam the last glass down, the whole room is roaring.

“WINNERS!” someone shouts.

Rafe grins wide, breathless, and turns to you, eyes bright, chest heaving from adrenaline and tequila.

Without thinking, he grabs your cuffed hand and lifts it over your heads, triumphant. “Dream team, baby.”

You’re grinning too, heart racing, not from the win, but from the way he’s looking at you now. Not like a friend. Not like a teammate.

Like a guy who’s been trying to hold it together all night, and who’s about five seconds away from forgetting you’re supposed to be "just friends."

...

The night blurs in a whirl of heat and music and too many shots. You lose count after the third round of challenges, the cuffs feel like part of you now, the weight of Rafe’s hand in yours a constant, grounding thing.

At some point, the crowd thins. People disappear to rooms, to Ubers, to dark corners.

You and Rafe end up collapsed on the beat-up couch in the sunroom, fairy lights flickering, music muffled now, the air cooler against flushed skin.

You’re both giggling at something stupid, an earlier challenge, the fact that you managed to win two rounds in a row even though you’re swaying slightly now. Rafe leans back, head tipped against the wall, eyes half-lidded and fond.

“You’re trouble, y’know that?” he says, voice low and lazy.

You nudge him with your knee. “Me? You’re the one who handcuffed me to you for four hours.”

He grins, tipsy and lopsided. “Best decision I’ve made in a while.”

You should laugh it off. Should tease him back. But something in the way he says it, too soft, too sincere, catches you.

You glance at him, heart thudding a little too fast. “Rafe..?"

He turns his head, meeting your gaze fully now, no smirk, no cocky edge. Just warmth. “Yeah?”

You swallow. The words come out before you can stop them. “I think I… might kinda like you.”

Silence.

Then he exhales a soft, shaky laugh. Runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Y/N.”

Your stomach drops. “I shouldn’t have said—”

“No, no.” He grabs your cuffed hand gently, thumb brushing over your skin. His voice is rough with something like relief. “I’ve liked you since forever.”

You blink. “What.”

“I mean it.” He shifts closer, forehead nearly touching yours now. You can feel his breath, warm and smelling faintly of mint and tequila. “But I wasn’t gonna screw it up. Not with you.”

Your pulse is a wild thing in your chest.

“I don’t want this to be because we’re drunk,” he says softly. “Or because we’re cuffed and everyone else is gone.”

You nod, throat tight. “Me neither.”

He studies you for a long moment, eyes searching, reverent. Then slowly, carefully, he leans in and presses the gentlest kiss to your cheek.

Soft. Steady. Like a promise.

When he pulls back, his voice is barely a whisper. “When we’re sober. I want our first kiss.”

You can’t speak, just squeeze his hand in silent agreement. And there you stay, tangled together on the couch, cuffed and incredibly drunk, hearts racing, two idiots too fond of each other to move.

But finally, finally, knowing you’ll get the moment right when the time comes.

[r-aindr0p]

you spoke about glomas ruggie and that took my mind to glomas jamil in my head, lmao. mmm, i see him as another vampire hunter, but not as an active member of the church... besides naga, pls that no😭 do you see jamil as any other creature to fight?

Alright so ! I finally organized the characters + roles etc...

You already know the main guys of the au so they're not in this mess of scribbles :') I don't have precise dynamics fixed but I want to keep the Vampirook/Rollo the main focus (it's my main brainrot of the moment after all) Might idk... put all the names in a hat and randomly pick two out and figure it out Three more vampires because they're the main menace (supposedly) I wanted Riddle to be a vampire because go ham lil man !! Hell yeah !! Sebek as a vampire made sense too he naturally has feral creature energy (usually hangs with either malleus and silver or riddle) And of course Idia, absolutely eating rats because he can't possibly imagine himself approach anyone to feed, nuh-uh. Pathetic and even more creature than he already is... (There's a weird man offering potions to him though, but in exchange of money. So he does snatch some coins here and there sometimes.) Made Malleus a devil because I wanted to keep the horns (a hornless malleus might as well be bald at this point) He does his things by himself and joins the other mieschief makers when it looks fun :)) Jamil is a vouivre (not really a snake or dragon, not really a wyvern either, semi aquatic creature) He used to guard a huge treasure vault belonging to a powerful and rich family but fuck that shit he's out. Now living his life by himself in peace (or he thought). The ruby is the only thing he kept from his past and is very attached to it. (some might try to snatch it though, yknow... could be sold for a lot of money...) Chose to make Silver the incubus because look at those mesmerizing eyes and that aura... He does feed by sleeping with others.... literally. You'll sleep the worst nap of your life while he peacefully snoozes using you as a pillow. And you will wake up even more tired, needing at least a week to recover. (insomniacs are not deemed nutritious) And Azul ahh Azul, he's a thorn in your side and a helpful asset at the same time. Strangely always here when you have troubles to be solved... Need a potion ? The location of a creature perhaps ? Substitutes foods ? Spell parchment ? Maybe you're finally down to sign a pact with him ? :))) The man is too annoying to be fully acknowledged by anyone but infuriatingly too handy to be taken out. Church guys !!! Epel mainly joined the hunting squad to be able to wield weapons and be cool as heck. Morning star is his favorite weapon though. Sells baked goods at the end of the morning masses, it works pretty well ! Deuce is the newest member and is being taught the basics by Ruggie and Epel, he's also helping around the church in general and is doing his best !!! (he spilled the red wine on the white altar cloth) Ruggie has been here for a while now. Being a hunter pays well and he actually helps around a lot and prepares meals for those in need. And yeah yeah stealing is bad but when evil creatures are full of riches it's alright to snatch a bit of it, right ??

[traveler-at-heart]

You're ok

Summary: As you recover from a life threatening mission, Natasha struggles to be vulnerable.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Edit: The last part is a scene from The Diplomat's season 2. Highly recommend the show, as it also has our lovely Ali Ahn ( AKA Alice Wu)

Death is part of the job. You had always been prepared for it.

Failure and a slow recovery were things that you were less inclined to accept.

It was hard to deal with the fact you had been ambushed, and almost killed by a bomb in what was supposed to be an easy mission.

Two weeks after being confined to the sterile hospital walls you’re back at the Compound. Bucky offered to help, carrying your things and lending his arm as support.

You certainly didn’t expect the rest of the Avengers on the foyer, excited to greet you.

“Don’t make a fuss” you say, letting them hug you. Wanda rolls her eyes, taking your bag.

“It’s a miracle you’re alive. We’re gonna make a fuss”

“Just for today, let us make a big deal out of this” Steve says.

You had seen all of your teammates when they visited at the hospital, with one notable exception.

Said exception walks through the door, the hint of a smile on her beautiful face as your eyes meet green ones.

“Welcome back” Natasha says, her tone gentle.

“Thank you”

“Romanoff might like you, she almost smiled” Tony says, but you don’t pay him attention.

“That’s just because I thought you weren’t here” Natasha walks past him, squeezing your good arm as a silent goodbye. How you wish you could follow after her, ask why she didn’t even stop by once, but she’s hurrying out the room in record time, as if she can sense your intentions.

Truthfully, you won’t act on them. Natasha doesn’t owe you anything, not even a get well card.

“Let’s get you settled in your new room” Tony becons, and you frown.

“New room? What happened to the old one?”

“This one has some improvements. You’re gonna love it”

It’s evident he still feels guilty over what happened, though it was definitely not his fault that you almost got killed.

The new room has a mini fridge, a giant tv, a king size bed, and a small couch. It also has a huge bathtub, as well as an incredible view of the forest behind the Compound.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… I’m perfectly fine going back to my old room”

“Can I have it if she doesn’t want it?” Sam intervenes, looking around the space.

“Come on, you’re gonna be using crutches for a while. You need a bigger space. And entertainment”

“It’s true” Steve says. “Of course we all want to be optimistic but…”

The doctors had said it would take at least six weeks to get you walking without aid. And then, you’d have to train and get back in shape. You are looking at two or three months of recovery.

It’s not that you dislike the bigger space or amenities. It’s the fact that Natasha was closer to you in the other room, and so you’d meet her most mornings as you’d step out to hit the gym or make breakfast.

Now, not only is she emotionally distant, she’s also physically away. And you don’t know which is worse.

“I’ll give it a try” you promise, though you know nothing will be better than your old room.

—

There are unexpected challenges that come with your injuries. Like cooking breakfast. Wanda is more than happy to help most days, but she’s been out for a mission the past week. You could have stuck to cereal, except Steve is always around by the time you wake up, and he insists on making your breakfast.

It’s a nice gesture, though the food is horrible.

You’ve spent the better part of your morning  playing with your eggs, considering eating cereal again, when someone places a cup of coffee and a paper bag next to you.

“I don’t know who told Steve he could cook” Natasha says with a smile.

“He means well” you answer, and wait for her to nod towards the bag to inspect its contents. Grilled cheese and a scone. Your mouth waters at the smell.

“You’re amazing, Natasha, honestly” you say between bites, moaning at the taste. “I can’t remember the last time I ate something this good. Except Wanda’s food, of course”

“Enjoy” she says, taking away the plate with eggs for you.

You were hoping to have her company while you eat, but maybe that’s too much to hope for.

—

At last, there’s something you can do. While everyone is busy with missions, you focus on reports and intelligence, which is perfect, because all you have to do is sit and read.

There are still deadlines and though no one wants to put pressure on you, you make sure nothing is delayed. As you keep reading in one of the conference rooms, the door is pushed open and you look up, alarmed at the sudden intrusion.

“Yes?” you say, pushing your glasses up, staring at Natasha. She turns around, struggling to speak.

“Y-you should be resting”

“I’m doing Bucky’s reports. You know how he is, he can’t type anything in the computer”

“It’s close to midnight. Have you even had dinner yet? I’m sure he won’t mind if you do them later”

“Nat. It’s fine, honestly” you say, smiling at her awkwardness. “I like to feel useful”

She nods, looking around the room, as if weighting her options. Moving away from the door, she walks and sits next to you, checking out some of the paperwork you’re reviewing

“Someone should have really taught James how to type” she mutters when she gets to the part where Bucky wrote target pulled out a cock instead of Glock.

You snort out a laugh, because it’s the dumbest fucking thing in the world.

“Ten bucks if you leave it like that” she insists and you shake your head.

“I considered it but then Tony wouldn’t know when to stop the teasing”

“Fair” she tilts her head, still smiling at you.

It’s obvious now that Natasha’s staying to make sure you go back to rest soon. So you enjoy the silence that comes with her presence, thinking this might be a step in the right direction.

But then, you stretch your arms above your head, forgetting about the stitches in your side until you feel a pull.

“Fuck” you bend over in pain, and Natasha is by your side in an instant. “It’s ok. I just stretched too hard. Forgot I still have a hole on my side”

Natasha’s hands hold on to the edge of the table, as if she’s struggling between storming out and staying.

“You should get some rest now” she manages to say, eyes not meeting your own.

“I’m fine”

Natasha gets ready to argue, but then reconsiders and just nods.

“I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight”

The redhead leaves the room in a hurry, and you wonder what could have possibly made her so upset.

For the next few days, you don’t see Natasha at all, and a part of you is certain she’s avoiding you.

As you lay in bed, watching a movie with Wanda, you keep going back to your interaction. Did you say something offensive? Was she simply too repulsed by weakness and didn’t know how to deal with it?

Is she avoiding me? Am I overthinking?

“She is and you are” Wanda says, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“But why… now wait a minute” you click your tongue, looking at your friend.

“I didn’t mean to, your thoughts are so loud. And so are Natasha’s. When you came back she was having a screaming match inside her head”

“What do you mean? What was she thinking?”

“No, that’s where I draw the line. If you want to know, ask her”

“If I ever see her again, sure” you mutter, though you know you lack the confidence to confront Natasha. Even if you had the chance, what’s there to say? "Hey, why are you making sure we only see each other when strictly necessary?"

She doesn’t like you, that’s the only explanation. Natasha is just being polite to keep appearances and the screaming inside her head was probably her thinking how much she wished you were still at the hospital.

Wanda snorts next to you, making you glare.

“Outta my head”

“Hey, I’m trying to watch the movie. You’re the one that needs to keep it quiet up there”

A few days later and you still have no idea how to approach Natasha. Mind you, she’s only been around the kitchen to get coffee once or twice, spending the rest of her time in missions or at the gym across the Compound.

The only time you’re not thinking about her is when the physical pain is distracting you. Like now, while changing your bandages. The doctors told you to get someone to help, but you already get help with food, laundry, even changing your god damn sheets. You’ll be damned if you ask for help with this.

“Fuckfuckfuck” you clearly did something wrong because the dressing is stuck around the edges. You pull again, but the pain is too much, so you plop down in bed. There’s a knock at the door, and you groan, which will hopefully make whoever’s on the other side go away.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Natasha says, rushing to your side.

“Can’t change my bandages” you say, not caring if your incompetence upsets her.

“Can I look?”

You nod, sitting up so she can see for herself the mess you’re in. Her hands are surprisingly soft and tender, and you’re almost dozing off while Natasha works silently.

Except when there’s a tug and you jump back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’ll be just one painful pull, ok?” the woman says, one of her hands going to your cheek. Your eyes meet and the way she’s looking at you almost makes the pain go away.

“Ok” you nod. Natasha takes it off in a swift movement, and all you can do is take a sharp breath as your skin stings. “Fuck me” you say through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think you’d enjoy it that much with the state you’re in” she jokes, which makes you smile.

“You know what I mean”

“Just teasing”

“You’re certainly good”

Natasha keeps working in silence, and you worry you may have crossed a line. When she’s done, she picks up the trash and goes to throw it away.

“Ask for help next time”

“I need help for everything. I wanted to at least do something on my own without being a burden”

“You’re not a burden” she says, her back to you as she washes her hands on the sink.

Something comes over you, and when Natasha walks by your side to exit the room, your hand shoots up to hold her wrist.

“Y/N?”

“I… I missed you. I know we’re colleagues and all I do is share whatever meal I’m having, or train with you from time to time. I know I can’t really do any of those things right now. I’m inconsequential, I know, to your life and to whatever you do. But I do miss you, Natasha. And I wish I didn’t care so much”

It feels like her skin is burning under your fingers, so you let go, ashamed at your little outburst. You’re expecting her to leave without another word but instead, she kneels to meet your eyes.

“You’re the opposite of inconsequential. But I don’t know how to care without being vulnerable”

“I don’t think that’s possible. Caring is vulnerability” you say softly. “But it’s also a strenght. It means you’re not alone”

Natasha smiles, a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. She’s about to say something else when FRIDAY calls for her at the conference room.

At this hour, it only means one thing. She stands up, looking apologetic.

“Be careful” is all you can say as she leaves the room.

—

A party is the last thing you’re in the mood for. Not only are you still wearing a cane (an improvement from the crutches) but Natasha has been gone for several days to complete a mission only a handful of people know about.

It makes you anxious, to think she might be in danger, though she is the most capable agent in the entire world.

“So glad you made it” Tony says when you finally show up. It took some convincing on Wanda’s part, but you agreed once you found an outfit that didn’t require you to wear heels.

The Avengers are at their own couch, talking and laughing. Bucky has apointed himself as your personal waiter, bringing snacks and drinks.

“Any word on Nat?” Stark asks, which distracts you from the conversation with Sam.

“Said she was still stuck at the debriefing” Steve shrugs his shoulders. It’s no surprise, if she can avoid these parties, Natasha will.

At least she’s home and safe. That brings you some peace of mind, and you’re able to enjoy the rest of the party.

Tony announces the fireworks are about to start, and you relunctantly stand next to the huge crowd assembled at the front yard of the Compound.

The first burts of color is followed by a couple of cheers.

But it’s different for you.

The booming sound, the lights, it all sets you on edge.

You’ve been around explosions before, and this had never happened. Frozen in place, you try to close your eyes and control your breathing as the noises increase your anxiety.

How you wish you could run back to your room right now, but it’s nearly impossible to walk between everyone.

“It’s ok” a voice says, and there’s the warmth of another body next to yours. “You’re ok”

“Nat” you sigh with relief, closing your eyes. Another firework explodes and you jump.

“Look at me” she says, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing motion. You nod, turning your body so she can wrap both arms around your waist. “Breathe with me”

You follow her lead, in and out, until your heartbeat is steady again.

“You’re ok” she says, this time more of a reminder to herself. “And I’m here”

“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, letting her decide if she wants to take that final step. Natasha smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as her lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

“I missed you too” she says when you break apart.

“I’m not going anywhere”

[satsugacafe]

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Kyoraku Shunsui, Shuhei Hisagi, Urahara Kisuke, Hirako Shinji, Kurosaki Ichigo

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello, I love your writing so much this is my new comfort corner now which has been hard to find for a while. I saw you were taking requests and would like to ask one if it's not much trouble? Could you write headcanon's with some Bleach men and how they would take care of their s/o when they have a cold? (I'm sick so it's more comfort for me haha)Would love to see Shunsui, Hisagi, Urahara and Shinji. And add whoever else you'd like to write as well. Thank you, beautiful person! - @cactimorada

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: This was so cute. They’re so adorable when flustered and frantically taking care of us ☺️

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✦ Kyoraku Shunsui ✦

˚₊‧꒰ა He caught on before you ever did, eyeing the way you dragged your feet and blinked a little too slowly during paperwork. “Y’know, when a person starts looking like a ghost, it’s usually time they stopped playing pretend and went to bed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Arguing was and is pointless, of course, muttering about duties and responsibilities, but he leaned in with a lazy smile and tapped your forehead with two fingers. “Captain’s orders. You’re burning up. Go lie down, I’ll handle things here.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Once you were in bed, he was annoyingly persistent about keeping you there, fluttering the shoji doors open every hour with a tray or some snide remark. “You better not be dead, or I’m drinking your sake stash in mourning.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He brought soup that tasted suspiciously better than expected—turns out he had enlisted Unohana’s kitchen staff and swore them to secrecy. “It’s a family recipe,” he claimed, sitting beside you with a smug grin, “just not my family.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Every time you coughed too hard or made that pitiful groan, he looked up from his spot on the floor or chair with a slight frown that didn’t suit him. “You alright, sweetheart? Need anything? Blanket? More tea? The soul of whoever got you sick?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He didn’t exactly hover, but his presence was constant, like a lazy cat that refused to leave your room. Sometimes he’d be napping in the corner with his hat over his face, one eye just slightly open in case you stirred.

˚₊‧꒰ა He definitely wasn’t above guilt-tripping you if you tried to leave bed early. “If you collapse in front of the other captains, it’ll make me look bad. Do it for my reputation, please.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Somehow, he managed to sneak a futon in next to yours under the excuse that you might ‘need immediate assistance in the night,’ and snored like a thunderstorm, at least you didn’t kick him out.

˚₊‧꒰ა The moment your fever broke and you started recovering, he acted offended. “What, already feeling better? I was just starting to enjoy the nurse role. You’re cruel, really.”

˚₊‧꒰ა As you improved, he started reading aloud to you in that smooth drawl of his—terribly boring political documents made ridiculous by the way he performed them like plays. “And thus, the Central 46, in their infinite wisdom, decided...that paperwork is love. Paperwork is life.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Anytime you got up to stretch your legs, he usually made a dramatic scene of wrapping you in a blanket like a burrito. “You’re not escaping that easily. I didn’t play Florence Nightingale just for you to run off and get sick again.”

˚₊‧꒰ა And when you thanked him afterwards, he waved it off with a smile. “You’d do the same for me, right? Although, I’d probably milk it more. I’m a terrible patient, you know.”

✦ Shuhei Hisagi ✦

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn't dramatic or loud about it. He just started acting. Put away your things, guided you gently by the elbow, handed you a cup of lukewarm water like he’d been preparing for this.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t much of a cook either, but he brought what he could—pre-packed rice porridge and miso soup from a nearby vendor. “It’s not gourmet, but it’s warm,” he said, holding it out with both hands.

˚₊‧꒰ა He sat beside the bed on a cushion, not too close, but never far enough to be out of reach. Silently reading and occasionally glancing your way. You’d pretended to sleep, but the fact that he was there made it easier to rest.

˚₊‧꒰ა Though his version of fussing was practical: refilling your water cup before it ran out, adjusting your blanket when it slipped off, making sure your pills or temperature sheet were where they should be.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Don’t push yourself,” he muttered when you tried to sit up for longer than five minutes. “Being strong doesn’t mean being foolish.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You caught him once with his head bowed, eyes shut, quietly muttering something like a prayer. He looked up and flushed. “I’m not dying, babe.” “I know. Just…hoping you bounce back soon. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When your fever spiked, he lost the calm for a moment—pacing at the door before finally fetching Isane, asking just enough questions to learn what you needed, then returning like he’d never left.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wiped sweat from your neck and shoulders with a cool cloth without comment. “You’re gonna be fine,” he’d mutter like it was a promise he was making to himself.

˚₊‧꒰ა At least when you started feeling better, he let out a sigh of relief so quiet you almost missed it. “You scared me,” he admitted, brushing a hand through his hair. “Not because you were sick…just because I didn’t know how bad it might get.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Teasing him about being overprotective was fun, and he’d give you a tired smile. “Yeah, well. I’ve seen enough people push themselves into an early grave. Not letting you be one of them.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You woke up once to find your uniform pressed and folded neatly on the table, and a note in neat handwriting: No getting up till I’m back. I mean it. –Shuhei

˚₊‧꒰ა He stayed longer than necessary every night, resting his head on his arms beside you when he was too tired to sit upright, muttering half-dreamed things like, “You always run yourself ragged, y’know that?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Even after you recovered, he still kept an eye on you for weeks. “Drink some water,” became a regular phrase. “Eat something,” followed close behind. You didn’t argue because you couldn’t when he was being all worried over you.

✦ Urahara Kisuke ✦

˚₊‧꒰ა Mr Inspector Gadget was already lurking the moment your sneeze echoed from the back room. “Achoo! My, my, that doesn’t sound good,” he drawled, peering over the sliding door. “Caught a bug, hmm? Or maybe the bug caught you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Before you could argue, he’d already flicked a thermometer into your mouth and dropped a damp cloth onto your forehead like a stage magician revealing a card. “Stay still. I need to take notes on your suffering.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You half-expected him to vanish into his underground lab and leave you alone, but instead he dragged a beanbag next to your futon and parked himself there like a cat staking territory.

˚₊‧꒰ა “I could whip up a serum, but it might give you antlers,” he said thoughtfully while swirling tea in a chipped mug. “Shall we play it safe with soup?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He let Jinta and Ururu handle the shop while he hovered nearby, bringing in concoctions that smelt like herbs and mischief.

˚₊‧꒰ა You coughed once and he nearly tripped over his own sandals rushing back in. “Too dramatic? Or do I get an award for fastest room re-entry?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He didn’t like seeing you miserable, though. Despite the jokes, his touch was careful when he adjusted your blankets, and his voice softened when he thought you were asleep. “It’s alright. You’ll be alright.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He refused to let you use a basic tissue box. Instead, he conjured some absurd medical tech that dispensed steam and mint with every pull. “It’s the Rolls Royce of tissues. Only the best.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Kisuke being Kisuke, he made a game out of things. Every time you took your medicine, he gave you a sticker. “Five more and you win a prize,” he’d cheer. “Possibly a nap with my hat. Possibly eternal glory.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Finally when the fever broke and you groaned from muscle aches, he sat down beside you and handed you a tin of ointment without a word. “I can rub it in, but you’ll owe me a foot massage when you’re better.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Occasionally he’d hold your hand to check your pulse, tapping the inside of your wrist with just the pad of his finger. “Hmm…mildly alive. Progress.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You overheard him scolding Tessai one night in the hallway—something about making sure the shop stayed quiet and not letting anyone bother you. “They got enough going on. Just…don’t let the kids yell near the room, alright?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He brewed weird teas in the middle of the night and brought them in with a grin. “This one might taste like regret. But it’s very healing.”

˚₊‧꒰ა As soon as you could sit up without wobbling, he handed you a board game and said, “Time to test your reflexes. If you lose to me while still sick, It won’t count. If you win, I’ll be impressed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When you finally stood up and declared yourself healthy, he dramatically staggered back and clutched his chest. “You’re alive! And just in time. I was running out of teas and tragic metaphors.”

˚₊‧꒰ა But he lingered a little longer near you after that. Always watching with that easy smile, fanning himself lazily. “You’re not allowed to worry me like that again. Unless it’s for a good reason, like dramatic flair. Or to make me look heroic.”

✦ Hirako Shinji ✦

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’re being weird. Like, quiet-weird. You dying or somethin’?” When you brushed him off, he rolled his eyes and slung an arm around your shoulder anyway, steering you straight into his quarters. “Alright, you’re done pretending. Bed. Now. Don’t make me carry you—though I will, and I’ll make it weird.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t exactly gentle, but he knew what he was doing. He dumped you in bed, tossed a blanket over you, and returned minutes later with a bowl of hot food and a bottle of something vaguely medicinal. “Eat. Or at least pretend you’re eating so I don’t have to argue with you.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Shinji had this odd mix of mothering and relentless bullying. “Aww, poor baby can’t walk five steps without coughing? Must be serious. What’s next, you want me to spoon-feed you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He was beside you the entire time with his legs up on the bed like he owned the place, flipping through a magazine while tossing out casual observations like, “You look like shit,” followed by, “You’re still cute though. In a tragic, plague-ridden way.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t above bribing you to take your medicine and flicking your forehead if you tried to bite him in retaliation. “Drink it and I’ll let you wear my sunglasses for ten minutes. Refuse and I’ll tell Hiyori you called her soft.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When you were half-asleep, he’d get weirdly quiet. Sitting there, tapping a finger on the bedframe, then eventually muttering, “Don’t push yourself so hard, alright? No point in acting tough when no one’s watching.”

˚₊‧꒰ა The teasing picked up again the second you stirred. “You snore when you’ve got a blocked nose, y’know. Real loud. Like a hollow and a goat had a baby.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Doesn’t know how to cook properly, so at some point he just started stealing food from Lisa’s stash. “Don’t tell her. She’ll kill me. But you need real nutrients and I’m not feeding you whatever that grey stuff Kensei makes.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When your fever broke, he appeared in the doorway with confetti and a tiny party popper. “Congratulations, you survived. I’ll now resume treating you like a person and not a damp towel.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Don’t ever try walking, he was on you immediately. “Oi, sit back down. Just ‘cause you’re not dying anymore doesn’t mean you’ve got a licence to be stupid.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When you were finally well enough to leave his care, he pretended to cry into a handkerchief. “My precious sick goblin is all grown up. Get outta here before I start writing poetry about your recovery.”

✦ Kurosaki Ichigo ✦

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t good at the soft stuff, but he had zero chill once he decided you needed rest. “No arguments. Bed. I’ll get—uh…I’ll figure it out. Just—bed!”

˚₊‧꒰ა The food situation was...interesting. He tried cooking and nearly started a fire. Eventually, he gave up and bought porridge from Orihime. “She said it’s good for sick people. Don’t ask me what’s in it.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Paced more than he sat. Every time you shifted, sneezed, or coughed, he was up like a soldier, rushing to adjust the blanket or shove a glass of water into your hands. “Here. Just drink it, okay? Even if it tastes gross.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’d try to act casual and cool, standing by the door with his arms crossed like a guard, but then you’d groan and he’d be at your side in two seconds, looking like he wanted to fight the virus personally.

˚₊‧꒰ა “I hate this. Not being able to fix it. I’m used to punching stuff till it goes away,” he muttered once, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched you sleep.

˚₊‧꒰ა When your fever got high, he panicked. Fumbled the thermometer, knocked over a chair, almost sprinted out to get Urahara before you stopped him. “Okay, okay, I’m staying! Just don’t scare me like that.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He eventually figured out a rhythm—sat beside you quietly, played some stupid videos on his phone (muted, but with captions), and occasionally offered you sweets like you were a kid. “I know you can’t taste anything, but still. Sugar’s comforting, right?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He doesn’t say much, but it was all in the way he stuck around, offered his hoodie, rubbed your back when you coughed until your ribs hurt. “You don’t have to thank me. Just get better, yeah?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He tends to fall asleep on the floor often, sitting upright against the wall with his chin on his chest and his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. Didn’t even realise till you nudged him awake.

˚₊‧꒰ა Getting your energy back was also a mother-hen moment. He was HOVERING like he expected you to suddenly relapse or collapse. His hands were never quite touching, but always hovering near your arms, ready to catch you.

˚₊‧꒰ა At least he never made a big deal of it afterwards, but you noticed the extra snacks in your cupboard, the new kettle in your kitchen, the way he still asked “Feeling alright?” every day for a week like he couldn’t let it go.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @spellboundsuguru @cactimorada @cookielovesbook-akie @kennys-partner @sovl-society @villainsrtasty @foxycrafterofgreenwood @carnationdoe @darthwhorecrux

©satsugacafé 2025: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 14- FINALE!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 - Final

Part 14:

A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.

To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.

While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.

It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.

The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.

As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.

For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.

Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.

Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!

(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)

Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."

"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.

"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.

"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.

"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"

"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.

"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"

After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.

With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).

Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.

You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.

Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.

Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.

Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.

Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.

Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.

Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?

"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.

He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"

You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"

You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"

"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.

"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.

Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.

You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"

"I've been ready for decades."

Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!

The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.

Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."

You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!

"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!

Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.

The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"

"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.

Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.

"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.

You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.

"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."

You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.

"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."

Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!

"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.

"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."

As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.

Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.

Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.

It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.

Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.

"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."

Tag List:

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[senascoop]

☁︎ . , PLAYING CUPID , N.RK !

PAIRING: cupid ! niki × frustrated ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: you just want this annoying lil cupid to go away and stop finding matches for you. so you do the first thing you could think of—shutting him off. GENRE: fluff, drabble. WORD COUNT: 607. [LIBRARY]

♫︎ REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

You didn't know how it started, but you somehow ended up with an overly enthusiastic cupid stuck to you. And not just any cupid—a persistent and interfering one it seemed, determined to find that “perfect match” no matter what you said.

“I'm sorry, but I'm really not interested,” you said, moving away from yet another random guy who had awkwardly confessed his love after being hit by one of those notorious golden arrows. The poor guy looked as confused as you felt. You ducked out quickly, heading to a secluded bench to escape the embarrassment.

Before you could exhale, the cupid, Niki was back. He materialized right next to you, beaming like the world's most annoying cheerleader. “Don't worry! I have ten more lined up for you. These ones will be good, I swear. At least give them a chance?” His golden bow twirled around in his hand as he leaned in toward you with excitement practically oozing out of every pore of his body.

You shot him a glare. “For the last time, I don't want to date anyone.”

His smile faltered. “What? Why not?”

“Because all of them suck,” you said bluntly, rubbing your temples. “No offense, but your matchmaking skills are terrible.”

He crossed his arms, offended. “Excuse me? I'm literally Cupid. Matching people is, like, my whole thing.”

“Well, your ‘thing’ needs some serious work. The first guy you picked was a misogynist.”

Niki blinked, his wings twitching slightly. “Okay, but didn't you say you didn't mind dating someone who's different from you? Opposites attract and all that?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “There's a difference between ‘opposites’ and someone who thinks women shouldn't have rights, you lunatic.”

He scratched the back of his neck, sheepish for all three of those seconds before shrugging it off. “Okay, okay, I'll admit that one wasn't my best. But for crying out loud, come on, give me a break. There are going to be a few misses before we find your Mr. Perfect.”

You felt your irritation boiling over. “Why does your genius brain not get it? I don't want to date anyone!”

His brows furrowed as he leaned closer, genuinely confused. “Why not? You've got nothing to lose. And let's be honest, you've been single for—”

“For what? Too long?” you snapped. “Maybe I'm single because you keep trying to pair me up with guys who have the emotional range of a teaspoon!”

His lips opened, preparing to argue, but you'd had enough. Without thinking you reached out, grabbed the front of his toga-like outfit, and yanked him forward. Before he could get another word out, your lips crashed onto his, silencing him.

Niki froze, wings jerking wildly. You took your advantage, kissing him firmly, hands tangling in that ridiculous, curly hair. Somewhere in the background, his bow clattered to the ground, his arrow rolling away like it had been dismissed from duty.

When you finally drew back, his cheeks were dusted pink, and his dazed expression made you smirk. “You're so clever,” you said, mimicking his earlier words, “but for someone who's supposed to be the expert in love, you're blind as a bat.”

It took him a moment to recover. “Wait—so… all this time, you weren't rejecting love. You were rejecting my matches”

“Of course,” you said, crossing your arms. “You've been shooting arrows everywhere but at the one person I was hoping to hit.”

He grinned, a self-satisfied smirk. “If you wanted me, you could have said that.”

“Oh, be quiet,” you said, rolling your eyes, but as he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours once more, you didn't stop him.

© senascoop | tumblr

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader, Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, Wooyoung x reader.

Summary: Five eight-year-old boys aboard the slave ship Crimson Serpent form an unbreakable bond with five-year-old y/n. before she's sold at auction. Despite their failed rescue attempt, they swear a blood oath on her teddy bear to find her. Fifteen years later, now feared pirates leading the ATEEZ

Warnings: Slavery/Human Trafficking, Separation/Loss, Violence, Eventual Smut. SA(not by any main characters) y/n gets switched to a real name but it has a purpose. More warnings to be updated.

Want to be notified when a chapter is updated? Join the Taglist!

Authors note: Thank you everyone for all the love on this fic! I appreciate it so much! I’ll be taking a break from posting for the weekend to give myself a break and work a little on my next fic! Love you all 💜

<<Previous Next>>

Masterlist

Chapter 10

Reconnections

Night had fallen by the time Mingi's condition stabilized. Yeosang had worked for hours, his movements precise and efficient despite the emotional weight of the situation. Though he'd said little beyond necessary instructions, his careful attention to Mingi revealed a deeper connection than mere professional duty.

"You should rest," he told y/n, who had stayed beside Mingi's treatment table the whole time. "Recovery will take days, not hours. Your presence, while appreciated, can't speed up the healing process."

His tone was gentle despite the practical advice. The concern in his eyes contradicted his measured words.

"I'm staying," she replied simply. "At least for a little while longer."

Yeosang nodded once, accepting her decision without argument. Unlike their childhood days when survival required constant negotiation, they could now communicate directly without calculation.

"You should at least eat something," he said, placing a plate of simple food near her. "Hard to keep a proper watch if you're hungry."

A hint of a smile touched his lips—a gentleness reserved only for those he truly trusted.

"Your medical wisdom is noted, Doctor," she responded with matching warmth. "I promise to follow your advice."

A brief softening around his eyes—the closest thing to a smile Yeosang usually showed—crossed his features. Without further comment, he turned to organize his supplies, his efficiency never faltering despite hours of intense work.

The medical bay door opened as Yunho ducked through the entrance. His gentle face showed both concern and tentative hope. He moved with unusual hesitancy, as if uncertain of his welcome despite the emotional confirmation hours earlier.

"Yeosang," he acknowledged first, respecting the doctor's authority. "How is he?"

"Stable," came the reply, notably warmer than Yeosang's typical professional tone. "The bleeding is under control, the wound is clean and dressed. His unconsciousness seems to be his body's way of recovering from the trauma, not something more serious."

Yunho nodded in understanding. "May I stay with him for a while?"

"Of course," Yeosang confirmed, his voice softening. "I need to prepare some additional supplies in the storage area. Call if anything changes."

As the doctor retreated to the adjacent room, Yunho approached cautiously. Though hours had passed since y/n revealed her identity, he was clearly still adjusting to the reality of their reunion.

"I brought this," he said softly, placing a small object on the shelf near Mingi's bed. "It was in his workbench drawer. I thought he might want it nearby when he wakes."

The object was a miniature wooden dolphin with the distinctive compass mark carved into its base—identical to the ones Mingi had asked Yunho to leave for y/n to find.

"He still makes them," she observed quietly, reaching to touch the small figure. "After all these years."

Yunho nodded as he settled into the chair opposite hers, with Mingi's unconscious form between them. "Every port we visit. He leaves them in places children might find them—markets, squares, harbor areas. For fifteen years, without stopping once."

"Like message bottles," Yunho continued, his voice growing softer. "Cast into a human ocean instead of water, hoping somehow one might reach you. That you might recognize his work and remember."

Y/n’s fingers traced the compass mark embedded in the miniature dolphin, identical to the symbol on her wooden sparrow and Yeosang's wolf. "I found one," she said, careful not to reveal too much about Yeosang yet. "In Blackwell's garden after a storm knocked down part of the wall. A friend found one too, it helped us through especially difficult times.”

Something shifted in Yunho's expression—wonder mixed with deep emotion as he realized what this meant. "He succeeded," he whispered in amazement. "His hope wasn't just wishful thinking. One of his messages actually reached you."

"I never knew who made it," she explained, still tracing the compass mark. "Just that it was beautiful, and mine, and worth protecting despite the risk. It became my talisman during the worst moments—proof that beauty could exist even within Blackwell's walls."

She noticed Yeosang freeze in the doorway as he listened to her explanation.

Yunho's eyes filled with tears, though his smile remained steady. "That would mean everything to him," he said softly. "To know he reached you somehow, even without you knowing. That his work gave you comfort when we couldn't."

For several minutes, they sat in comfortable silence, watching Mingi's steady breathing. Though unconscious, his strong presence remained obvious—the quiet strength that had defined him since childhood evident even now.

"Tell me about him," Y/n asked. "About the man he became after the boy I knew."

Yunho considered this thoughtfully. "He speaks more with his hands than his voice," he began. "Creates with precision what words can't express. His silence isn't emptiness but a different language—everything important communicated through what he builds rather than what he says."

The description matched perfectly with y/n’s memories of the quiet boy from The Crimson Serpent—his rare words carrying weight beyond their number, his carved animals expressing more than words ever could.

"He designed most of the ATEEZ's special systems," Yunho continued, obvious pride in his voice. "The hidden gun ports, the modified rigging that gives us better speed, even the speaking tubes that let us communicate throughout the ship. His mind sees connections others miss, possibilities where others see only obstacles."

Y/n nodded. "He always found solutions where none seemed possible," she observed. "Even as a child."

"That hasn't changed," Yunho confirmed. "Though the scale of his work has grown. Half the ports in the world have standing orders for his mechanical designs—mechanisms bought by merchants and naval ships alike despite our reputation."

This surprised her—that the quiet gunner's creations extended beyond the ATEEZ to influence the wider maritime world.

"But he's most himself when carving," Yunho added, his voice softening. "In quiet moments, between battles or storms, when survival demands ease up. That's when the real Mingi emerges—focused on creating beauty that serves no purpose beyond existing."

This aligned perfectly with her childhood memories—the quiet boy who turned scraps of wood into tiny animals during rare peaceful moments aboard The Crimson Serpent.

"And you've been beside him through it all," she noted, recognizing a partnership deeper than friendship. "Since The Crimson Serpent."

Yunho nodded, something vulnerable crossing his face. "We share quarters," he said simply. "Have since we could choose such arrangements. His nightmares ease when I'm nearby, though he'd never admit that out loud."

"He speaks more with me than others," Yunho continued, trust flowing between them despite their years apart. "Not just words but the thoughts behind them. When we're alone, he talks more freely than anyone aboard would believe possible."

"You care for each other," y/n observed. "Beyond friendship or loyalty."

Yunho's eyes widened slightly, showing momentary vulnerability. Then his gentle certainty returned, neither confirming nor denying her observation.

"We've survived much together," he said simply. "Discovered that connection matters more than convention. That real bonds go beyond categories others might try to impose."

Y/n nodded, respecting his careful response. "I'm glad," she said sincerely. "That neither of you had to face fifteen years alone. That you had each other when circumstances demanded impossible strength."

Something in Yunho's expression softened further, gratitude showing beneath his gentle composure.

"We all found ways to survive," he acknowledged, his gaze returning to Mingi. "Though some paths were lonelier than others despite us staying together."

For several comfortable minutes, they kept their shared watch beside Mingi's bed, connection flowing without need for constant talking.

"You should rest," Yunho eventually suggested with genuine concern. "I'll stay with him through the night. Mingi would want your well-being put before his own."

"We'll take turns," she countered, offering compromise instead of rejection. "You need rest as much as I do, especially after the battle and everything that's happened. Yeosang can help us set up a schedule that works for everyone."

Yunho's smile deepened at this suggestion. "Always the practical one," he observed with appreciation rather than criticism. "Finding balance where others might only see opposing needs."

Before she could respond, Mingi's fingers twitched slightly beneath her hand—the first movement since losing consciousness during battle. Both immediately focused on this change, hope rising in their expressions.

"Puppy?" she whispered, the childhood nickname coming naturally.

Though Mingi didn't speak, his fingers definitely curled around hers—weak but deliberate. The simple contact carried meaning beyond its minimal strength.

"He knows you're here," Yunho said softly, wonder in his gentle voice. "Even without waking, he recognizes you."

Yeosang emerged immediately from the supply room, his awareness of medical developments evident despite his apparent focus on other tasks. "That's a good sign," he said, his professional assessment not fully hiding his personal response. "It shows he's responding, even if he's not fully conscious yet."

Despite his cautious words, satisfaction showed in his subtle smile.

"He still needs complete rest," he stated, falling back on medical terminology. "Recovery requires physiological processes that consciousness might disrupt through pain awareness and subsequent stress."

The unnecessary complexity—his deliberate use of medical jargon beyond what was needed—contained subtle humor that only those who knew him well would catch. This was Yeosang's version of emotional expression, using clinical language to create distance while still showing genuine care.

"Translation: let him sleep," y/n interpreted with a gentle tease. "Even if he's starting to respond, his body needs uninterrupted recovery time."

"Exactly," Yeosang agreed with a small smile. "Sometimes I forget not everyone appreciates medical terminology as much as I do."

Yunho chuckled softly, clearly familiar with this dynamic. "We should set up a watch rotation," he suggested, returning to y/n’s earlier proposal. "Making sure someone's always here while still allowing necessary rest."

"That makes sense," Yeosang agreed with a nod. "I can take the middle watch from midnight until dawn. You two should get some proper rest before then. We can figure out tomorrow's schedule based on how he's doing and who's available."

"Sounds reasonable," y/n agreed, smiling at his thoughtful arrangement. "We can adjust as needed, depending on how he responds."

Yeosang nodded, showing a warmth in his eyes that most of the crew rarely saw. With her, he allowed his careful walls to lower slightly, the boy she had known emerging from behind the doctor's composed exterior.

"I'll tell the captain about Mingi's improvement," Yunho said, rising carefully to minimize disruption. "He'll want to know right away despite handling the ship repairs."

As Yunho left, a comfortable silence settled in the medical bay. Their shared watch felt natural despite fifteen years of separation, trust renewed through their common purpose.

Beneath her hand, Mingi's fingers maintained gentle pressure—unconscious confirmation of their connection. Around his wrist, barely visible beneath his bandaged arm, the faint scar of a childhood blood oath remained—physical reminder of a promise kept against impossible odds.

Dawn light filtered through the medical bay's ports when y/n woke from unexpected sleep. Despite her determination to stay alert, exhaustion had claimed her during the quiet hours—emotional and physical strain finally overcoming her usual caution.

"Good morning, little bird."

The cheerful greeting—and childhood nickname—identified the speaker before she fully opened her eyes. Wooyoung sat across from her, Mingi's unconscious form between them, his expressive face showing both excitement and uncertainty despite his typical animation.

"Woo," she acknowledged, the shortened name coming naturally. "How long have you been here?"

"Since second bell of dawn watch," he replied with unusual precision that suggested deliberate restraint. "Yeosang finished his medical checks and said it was fine for me to take over watching our sleeping beauty here."

The casual phrase revealed some of his natural exuberance, though he was clearly moderating his approach out of respect for both the medical environment and the emotional significance of their reunion.

"Any change?" she asked, returning her attention to Mingi.

"Continuing improvement according to our esteemed doctor's extensive and thoroughly boring medical assessment," Wooyoung reported, some of his natural animation returning.

"Though his exact words involved many more syllables and absolutely zero personality, despite my heroic attempts to extract human expression from his clinical vocabulary."

The familiar complaint—good-natured exasperation beneath theatrical delivery—created unexpected warmth in y/n. Unlike calculated performance, Wooyoung's natural enthusiasm remained genuine  

"I speak plainly enough. Misrepresentation of medical communication," came Yeosang's voice from the supply room doorway, a hint of humor warming his measured tone. "Just because you prefer dramatic flourishes doesn't make clear medical assessment unnecessarily complex."

Wooyoung clutched his chest in exaggerated injury, his expressive face arranging itself into practiced suffering. "You wound me, Doctor. After I accurately translated your seventeen-syllable medical pronouncements into actual human language for our recently reunited friend."

"Your translations often take considerable creative liberties," Yeosang countered, entering the main treatment area with his typical quiet efficiency. "Medical accuracy matters, even if you think it lacks theatrical appeal."

"Theatrical appeal?" Wooyoung gasped, his performance growing increasingly elaborate despite obvious self-awareness. "My humor is exceptionally well-regarded throughout maritime waters! Pirates literally pause mid-combat to appreciate my perfectly timed observations!"

"I'm fairly certain that's not why they pause," Yeosang replied with a subtle smile. "The crew mostly tolerates your performances because there's limited entertainment during long voyages."

The exchange—flowing with practiced rhythm suggesting regular occurrence—made y/n laugh, genuine amusement breaking through her remaining emotional guardedness.

"There it is," Wooyoung said softly, his theatrical animation pausing as genuine warmth transformed his expressive features. "I've missed that sound for fifteen years."

"Your laugh," he clarified when her expression showed confusion. "The real one, not the careful version you've occasionally allowed since coming aboard. The one from before—from The Crimson Serpent, when we had nothing but still found reasons for joy."

This observation affected y/n deeply. Unlike simple recognition based on appearance, Wooyoung had recognized something essential about her that fifteen years of captivity had suppressed but not eliminated.

"I taught you how," he continued, memory softening his usually animated features. "How to laugh silently when attention meant danger. How to find humor when everything around us demanded despair."

Y/n nodded, the memory surfacing with unexpected clarity. "You crossed your eyes and puffed your cheeks until I couldn't help responding," she recalled. "Then showed me how to laugh without sound—shoulders shaking, eyes crinkling, mouth open but no noise coming out."

"The sacred art of secret laughter," Wooyoung confirmed with genuine pleasure. "Most important skill for surviving in a hostile environment. More valuable than physical escape or strategic resistance."

This assessment—delivered with unusual seriousness despite his typically playful manner—revealed wisdom beneath Wooyoung's cheerful exterior.

"It helped," she acknowledged simply. "During the worst times, remembering how to find humor kept something essential alive in me. Something Blackwell couldn't touch despite his best efforts."

Yeosang looked up from his inventory task, genuine emotion visible in his usually composed face. "Finding ways to preserve your inner self often matters more than physical resistance," he observed quietly. "Creating a mental sanctuary when you can't escape physically."

"Did you use it too?" Wooyoung asked with unusual perceptiveness as he turned toward Yeosang. "The silent laughter technique?"

The doctor continued his methodical organization without looking up, though something in his posture suggested meaningful hesitation.

"I found my own version," he acknowledged finally, the personal disclosure clearly difficult despite their years of friendship. "Something that worked for my situation and personality. Different approach but same purpose."

Wooyoung studied him for a long moment, unusual thoughtfulness replacing his theatrical presentation. Then a genuine smile transformed his expressive features.

"You found your own way," he translated gently. "Different method but same purpose. Keeping your essential self alive when everything around you demanded its surrender."

Yeosang's shoulders relaxed slightly—a subtle response invisible to anyone who didn't know him well. Though his expression remained mostly composed, this minimal physical adjustment revealed significant emotional impact.

"Something like that," he confirmed quietly. "We all did what we had to survive."

Y/n watched this exchange with growing understanding. Beyond the surface contrast between Wooyoung's theatrical expressiveness and Yeosang's measured reserve, their interaction showed genuine connection disguised by apparent opposition.

"You two have become quite the pair," she observed. "Despite your seemingly opposite ways of communicating."

Wooyoung grinned, his natural animation returning. "Opposites create perfect balance," he declared with characteristic flourish. "His calm precision balances my creative inspiration! My theatrical presentation counteracts his clinical terminology! Together we form the perfect partnership of contradictory harmony!"

"Exaggerated assessment containing potential validity despite questionable delivery methodology, as usual," Yeosang responded, though genuine warmth softened his typically measured tone. "But there's some truth to it. Different approaches sometimes work better together than separately."

"Translation: we balance each other," Wooyoung winked at y/n. "Though he'd rather perform complicated dental surgery on himself than admit such emotional vulnerability in plain language."

"I express myself adequately," Yeosang countered, though a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Just because I prefer precision doesn't mean I lack emotional awareness."

Before Wooyoung could continue their cheerful bickering, the medical bay door opened to admit Seonghwa. Unlike his usual meticulous appearance, signs of extended work were visible—his uniform slightly creased, hair not perfectly arranged, shadows beneath his watchful eyes.

"Quartermaster," Yeosang acknowledged immediately with professional respect. "I was just about to send my latest report."

"Proceed," Seonghwa replied, his precise tone matching the doctor's formal delivery despite evident fatigue. His gaze swept the room with typical efficiency before settling briefly on y/n with an unreadable expression.

As Yeosang delivered his medical update, y/n noticed an unexpected distance in Seonghwa's manner—professional courtesy maintained despite obvious emotional withdrawal. Unlike Wooyoung's immediate warmth or Yunho's gentle acknowledgment, the quartermaster's response to her confirmed identity seemed deliberately restrained. The coldness in his eyes when he looked at her stung more than she wanted to admit.

The contrast was particularly striking given his previous thoughtfulness during her initial days aboard the ATEEZ. Before knowing who she was, Seonghwa had shown consistent consideration despite his professional reserve—arranging comfortable accommodations, ensuring appropriate clothing, facilitating her integration into ship operations. Now, with her identity confirmed, his manner appeared more distant rather than closer—controlled politeness replacing tentative connection. Each word he spoke felt like he was building a wall between them, and despite her years of learning to hide her emotions, she couldn't help feeling a sharp pang of rejection.

"Thank you, Doctor," he said when Yeosang finished his report. "Continue current treatment protocol with standard documentation procedures. Captain Hongjoong requests hourly updates through established communication channels."

This formal directive created momentary awkwardness in the medical bay's atmosphere. Rather than naturally progressing from professional assessment to personal acknowledgment, Seonghwa maintained rigid separation between operational necessity and emotional context.

"Seonghwa," Wooyoung began, concern evident beneath his characteristic animation, "aren't you going to—"

"Damage control operations continue throughout primary structural systems," the quartermaster interrupted, cutting off the personal inquiry. "Your assistance is required in supply management and crew rotation scheduling given extended recovery timeline projections."

This deliberate refocus created visible confusion on Wooyoung's expressive face. Instead of his typical theatrical complaint, genuine concern showed through his usually confident manner.

"But we've found her," he said softly. "After all this time, all our searching. Don't you want to—"

"Ship operations take priority during recovery phase," Seonghwa stated, his precise tone allowing no space for emotional response. "Vessel functionality and crew welfare require immediate attention regardless of other developments."

The term "other developments"—applied to y/n’s confirmed identity—created palpable tension in the medical bay. Seonghwa established a rigid separation between operational necessity and emotional context—as if fifteen years of searching carried no more importance than routine ship maintenance.

Yeosang's gaze moved between them with unusual attentiveness, his typical composure temporarily replaced by acute awareness of the interpersonal dynamics at play.

"I'll be in the galley shortly," Wooyoung replied finally, evident confusion giving way to cautious acceptance. "Just need to finish up here with Yeosang."

Seonghwa nodded acknowledgment, then turned to include y/n with careful neutrality. "The captain requests your presence in his quarters when convenient," he stated formally, his delivery containing neither warmth nor hostility. "Security escort will be provided given ongoing ship management concerns and potential complications."

"Thank you, Quartermaster," y/n replied, matching his formal tone despite the hurt that tightened her chest. Fifteen years navigating dangerous social situations had developed her sensitivity to emotional subtext—recognizing withdrawal that required careful response rather than direct confrontation. Still, after years of imagining reunion with her childhood protectors, his coldness felt like a physical blow. "Please inform the captain I'll attend him once Mingi's condition allows."

Seonghwa nodded once—a sharp, precise movement showing neither approval nor objection. "I'll convey your message," he confirmed, immediately turning toward the exit without further interaction.

As the door closed behind him, momentary silence settled over the medical bay—confusion flowing beneath surface composure as they processed the unexpected interaction.

"Well," Wooyoung said finally, his characteristic animation subdued beneath genuine bewilderment, "that was..."

"Unexpected," Yeosang supplied thoughtfully. "Not what anyone would predict, especially considering how long he’s been searching for you."

"Exactly!" Wooyoung agreed, grateful for the accurate assessment. "Not at all what anyone expected from Mr. Precise-and-Proper given recent developments and fifteen years of obsessive searching."

Y/n remained silent, processing the implications carefully as she tried to ignore the dull ache in her heart. Unlike Wooyoung's open confusion or Yeosang's measured assessment, her response incorporated analysis developed through years navigating complex power dynamics during captivity.

"He's protecting himself," she said finally, understanding crystallizing from observed evidence, though it didn't make his rejection hurt any less. "Creating distance because connection represents vulnerability he's not prepared to handle right now."

Wooyoung's brow furrowed with genuine puzzlement. "But why now? After fifteen years searching for you, countless false leads and disappointments, finally confirming your identity—why pull back when connection becomes possible rather than just theoretical?"

"Because theory is safer than reality," Yeosang observed quietly, his insight clearly drawn from personal experience. "An idea can't disappoint you or hurt you. But a real person, a real relationship—that involves risk that can't be controlled."

"He's spent fifteen years imagining who I might be," y/n elaborated. "Creating a picture of me in his mind, what our reunion might be like. Now that I'm actually here, reality is colliding with that image. The real me might not match what he's built up in his mind all these years."

Wooyoung considered this explanation with unusual thoughtfulness. "So finding you actually scares him more than losing you," he concluded with surprising insight. "Because your real presence requires him to adjust to someone who might not be who he imagined."

"Possible," Yeosang confirmed appreciatively. "The reality of reconnection is more complex than the idea of it. It requires adjusting expectations built over fifteen years of separation."

"He needs time," Y/n acknowledged, forcing herself to be rational even as her eyes stung with unexpected tears. She blinked them back quickly, unwilling to let the others see how much his rejection had wounded her. "Time to adjust."

"It might take him a while," Yeosang agreed gently. "Seonghwa processes things internally, and he's been emotionally invested in finding you longer than almost anyone."

"Which means," Wooyoung translated, his characteristic animation returning, "our perfectly ordered quartermaster currently resembles his personal nightmare—someone whose meticulously arranged reality has been completely disrupted despite getting exactly what he's been seeking for fifteen years."

This observation made y/n laugh, genuine amusement flowing beyond calculated response.

"There's a certain irony to it," Yeosang acknowledged with a small smile. "Achieving exactly what you've wanted most, only to find yourself unprepared for the reality of it."

Before they could continue, Mingi's fingers twitched more deliberately beneath y/n’s hand—stronger movement than before, suggesting increased awareness despite continued unconsciousness. All three immediately focused on this development.

"That's much stronger than before," Yeosang observed, moving immediately to check vital signs with practiced efficiency. "His body's responding more actively, which is an excellent sign. He might be closer to waking than I initially thought."

"He knows we're here," Wooyoung said with unusual softness. "He can feel us even before consciousness fully returns."

Y/n squeezed Mingi's hand gently. "Keep fighting, Puppy," she whispered. "We're all waiting for you."

As morning light strengthened through the medical bay's ports, casting gentle illumination across the room's occupants, their connection deepened despite fifteen years of separation.

As Yeosang continued examining Mingi, a gentle knock at the door announced another visitor. The door opened to reveal a young crew member—one of Hongjoong's personal messengers.

"The captain requests your presence when convenient," he said to y/n respectfully. "He's in his quarters."

The simple message, delivered without formal escort or rigid timeline, showed consideration beyond mere authority.

"I can stay with our patient," Wooyoung offered immediately. "Yeosang's expertise and my unparalleled entertainment value will ensure his continued improvement even in your temporary absence."

"Mingi's condition is stable," Yeosang confirmed, mercifully ignoring Wooyoung's self-proclaimed entertainment value. "Your brief absence won't impact his recovery. I'll send word immediately if anything changes."

"Thank you," she said, giving Mingi's hand a final gentle squeeze before rising. "I won't be gone long."

As she moved toward the door, Wooyoung called after her with uncharacteristic restraint: "He's been waiting fifteen years for this conversation. We all have, but him most of all."

Y/n paused at the doorway, turning back to face Wooyoung. The theatrical cook's rare moment of seriousness touched something deep within her.

"I've been waiting too," she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotion building in her throat. "All those nights whispering your names in the dark, wondering if I'd ever hear someone call me by my real name again."

She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Wooyoung's with unexpected openness. "When you first brought me those honey cakes, I nearly broke right then. It took everything I had not to throw my arms around you and tell you who I was. But I had to be sure. Fifteen years teaches you that hope is the most dangerous thing you can carry." A small, bittersweet smile touched her lips. "And yet I kept carrying it anyway, even when it felt like it would break me."

She glanced at Mingi's still form, then back to Wooyoung, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Tell him I'll be back soon. Tell him..." her voice wavered for just a moment, "...tell him his little shadow still remembers how to find her way home, even after all these years in the dark."

Without waiting for a response, she slipped through the doorway, the vulnerability of the moment too raw to bear any longer. But as she walked the corridor toward Hongjoong's quarters, her steps carried a lightness they hadn't known in fifteen years.

Taglist: @hopeless-lovex0 @frankielou02 @jilxxasu @kur0kki @lezleeferguson-120 @uniquecloudbread @miniverse-zen @symmieangela @monstacheol @ateezswonderland @comicnerd557 @pixie0627 @fumaluvr @princesscallie @green-moon @starryjoong-jeongcheollie @wiccanmetallicrose @atinyapple1117 @sassy-snassy

[tortillamastersblog]

First Date | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: foul language, a shit ton of fluff, and smut (if you squint)

Summary: After recovering and moving to New York to start your new life, you finally take Sam on a first date. . .

Masterlist

_______________________________________________

"How do I look?" | ask, fixing my collar nervously in front of the mirror.

"For the hundredth time, you look great!" Liam exclaims, and I glance at my phone to see him nodding encouragingly on my screen.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair once again before dropping my arms and turning away from the mirror.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," | admit, picking up my phone while Liam laughs.

"You're ridiculous. You're not going to throw up. Why are you so nervous anyway? You've been living with Sam for almost three months now."

I shrug on my jacket and crouch down to slip on my shoes. "I don't know! It's just... this is our first real date and I want to impress her." I look at my phone to see Liam's face softening.

"I get that," he says gently, "but there really is no need to be nervous. This is Sam we're talking about.

She loves you so much, she'll be impressed no matter what you do, or where you take her."

"I guess you're right." | take a deep breath and grab my keys.

Sam and I moved in together after I got out of the hospital. At first, I went to live with her and Tara in their old apartment, but since then I got a new job at Liam's company and the apartment that comes with it. 

Tara moved into an apartment of her own with Anika and Mindy.

They live close to campus, while Sam and I live on the upper west side. It's the same building Liam lives in, but he's currently on a business trip in Dallas, hence why he's on the phone with me for moral support rather than being here in person.

Sam is at Tara's, getting ready for our date since Tara, Mindy, and Anika insisted it would be cute if I didn't see Sam all dressed up until I went over to theirs to pick her up.

"Of course I'm right," Liam teased lightheartedly.

"Now go and have fun! I'll talk to you tomorrow." I snort, but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Talk to you tomorrow.

“Bye!"

"Bye!"

I hang up and I take another look at myself in the mirror before squaring my shoulders and leaving the apartment.

I lock the door behind me and take the elevator at the end of the hallway down to the parking garage. It's just as fancy as the rest of the building and it spares me the trouble of finding a parking spot out on the street which is always a nightmare.

The bouquet of red roses I got earlier sits on the passenger seat of the car when I get in and I make sure it’s secure before starting the car and making my way across the city.

It's a surprisingly short drive because for some reason there is barely any traffic. There's also a parking spot right in front of Tara's apartment building which makes my heart skip a beat because I thought l'd have more time to prepare myself for seeing Sam.

I have no idea what she's going to wear, but Tara texted me a couple of minutes ago, telling me I'm going to faint when I see her.

I grab the flowers and hop out of the car, tapping my foot nervously on the elevator ride up to the apartment. I love Sam, and I know she loves me, but after all is said and done, this is still our first date and I want it to go well. 

“Oh hey! You’re right on time!” Anika greets me at the door and even goes so far as to pull me in for a hug. We aren’t exactly close, but ever since I saved her life she’s been extra nice to me. 

“Hey, Anika.” I smile and shift on my feet nervously.

“Babe? Is that Y/N?” Mindy calls out from somewhere in the apartment and Anika shouts back a yes, which makes Mindy appear a moment later with a smirk on her face.

“Hi, Y/N.” She pulls me into a careful hug, making sure not to ruin the flowers. “You look dashing.”

I feel myself blush and avert my eyes momentarily, clearing my throat. “Uh– Thanks, Mindy.”

When I look back up, Mindy’s smirk has turned into a soft smile and she and Anika share a knowing look before ushering me into the apartment and closing the door behind me. 

“Tara and Sam will be right out,” Anika explains, and not even a second later, Tara comes bouncing around the corner.  

“Y/N!” she exclaims happily, however unlike Mindy and Anika she doesn’t close the distance between us to hug me. She simply stops by the corner and smiles brightly, her eyes darting between me and the hallway to her left, which is shielded from my view. 

And then I hear it. The telltale sound of high heels on the hardwood floor.

Sam.

I hold my breath and wait patiently for her to appear,and when she does, I really do feel like fainting. In a regular shirt, she’s already stunning, but right now she’s simply breathtaking. She’s wearing a simple black, one shoulder dress that has a slit running up the length of her thigh and a pair of matching black ankle strap heels. The front of her hair has been tied back, so it’s out of her face while the rest of it flows down her back in soft waves. To tie back the entire look, she’s applied some makeup to highlight her dark eyes, her lipstick a soft red so as to not distract from her eyes.

“Hey,” she says softly with a shy smile on her face.

“H-Hi,” I stutter, unable to take my eyes off her. We’ve not even left the apartment yet and she’s already got me swooning over her. 

Tara, Mindy, and Anika watch us staring at each other, amusement on all of their faces before Mindy clears her throat, prompting me to finally move.

I step further into the apartment and hold out my hand, my knees almost buckling when Sam takes it with a dimpled smile. I notice her nails are painted the same shade of red as her lipstick, and it makes me marvel at just how much thought and effort she’s put into her appearance tonight.

“You look–” Good? Great? Beautiful? No. None of those words describe the way she looks right now. I bite the inside of my cheek, and squeeze her hand before finally settling on, “-- absolutely breathtaking.”

“Thank you.” Sam looks away shyly before meeting my eyes again, this time with a faint blush on her cheeks. “You look amazing, too.”

I snort because I wouldn’t even dare to compare our looks tonight, but I don’t disagree with her. Instead, I bring the bouquet of roses between us and say, “These are for you.”

Her eyes light up and she glances at the roses before looking back at me. “For me?” she asks quietly which makes me chuckle softly and nod. “Thank you.”

She takes them, her cheeks now redder than before and intertwines our fingers. 

“You’re welcome.” I want to kiss her, but I don’t want to smudge her lipstick, so I opt for giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Ready to go?”

Damn. She even smells great. Is that sandalwood? 

Sam nods and I squeeze her hand before turning back around to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika still watching us.

Tara and Anika both look like they’re going to melt, and despite Mindy trying to play it cool, I can also see affection dancing in her eyes. 

“You two are so cute, I love it.”  Anika sighs and takes Mindy’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Aren’t they cute?” she asks and Mindy just shrugs.

“I guess,” she admits when Anika shoots her a disapproving look which makes all of us chuckle.

“They’re cute and hot,” Tara teases with a smirk. “I mean, honestly guys, you’re like the power couple of all power couples!” 

Sam laughs bashfully and tightens her hold on my hand while I groan. “Sproouuut!”

“What?! It’s true,” Tara insists before her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you guys. You deserve this. Enjoy your night.”

My cheeks are still warm, but I smile gratefully and dip my chin in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

Mindy and Anika wish us a great night too and then we’re off. 

It’s a little cold outside since it’s the beginning of March, so before we exit the building, I stop and take off my jacket, draping it around Sam’s shoulders before leading her the rest of the way to the car.

I make sure to open the door for her, which earns me another shy smile. It makes me feel accomplished and I quickly get into the driver’s seat to start our drive to the restaurant.

So far, so good, I think. 

“Where are you taking me?” Sam asks after some time when I come to a stop at a red light. 

I glance at her before looking back at the road and shrug casually. “It’s a surprise.”

“What? Still?” she whines playfully and out of the corner of my eye I can see her pout. 

I chuckle softly and reach over to squeeze her thigh quickly.  “Mhmm.”

The light turns green and I’m quick to take my hand back to put it back on the gear stick.

Sam huffs, but doesn’t push it. She places her hand on my thigh instead, and takes my phone with her other hand to change the music . 

Her warm touch makes my stomach do flips and for the rest of the drive I rest my hand on top of hers every chance I get.

“Alright, this is it,” I say when I finally pull up next to the high rise the restaurant is in. 

Sam’s jaw drops and she takes in the glass facade of the building with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” she asks and I just smile, getting out of the car and handing my keys to the approaching valet who’s dressed in a sleek black tux.

Then, I round the front of the car and open Sam’s door, offering her a hand when she gets out, which she gratefully accepts. 

“Y/N… What is this? What are we doing here? Is this a joke?” she asks, which makes me laugh softly. She goes to take the roses with her, but I stop her with a tug on her hand. They’d just get in the way in the restaurant, and it’s not like they’re going to wilt if they’re without water for another two hours or so.

“It’s not a joke, Sammy. We’re having dinner here. Well, not here, but in the restaurant on the sixty-eight floor,” I explain, watching her take in the building one more time before her eyes land back on me.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

I pulled a couple of strings to get a reservation tonight, but for her, I’d do anything. Yes, the food will probably be overpriced, and the other customers will probably be snobby and stuck up, but it will all be worth it for the view and the experience. 

“T-this is too much.” She hesitates when I go to lead her into the building, so I turn back around with an encouraging smile, letting go of her hand to wrap my arms around her waist.

She steps closer and I place a kiss on her forehead, making her close her eyes momentarily. “It’s not too much, Sam. I love you, and you deserve the world, so please let me treat you tonight.”

Sam looks at me with uncertainty shining in her eyes, so I place another kiss on her forehead, this time between her eyebrows. 

“Please?” I whisper and after another moment's consideration she nods. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she says, cupping my cheeks. She leans up to kiss me, still having to do so despite her heels, but I pull back which makes her frown.

“Your lipstick,” I try to explain, but she rolls her eyes and kisses me softly. 

After more than four months of being together, kissing her still sends shockwaves through my body. My cheeks feel like they're on fire where her hands are touching them and my lips tingle when she pulls back, mumbling, “I don’t care,” before pecking my lips once more and pulling away completely.

I stare at her like a love sick fool and smile sheepishly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replies easily and after making sure her lipstick isn’t all too smudged, we finally make our way into the building and up to the restaurant.

I keep catching Sam glancing at me over her menu, so after the fifth or so time I put mine down and smile at her quizzically. “What?”

She looks around the dimly lit restaurant as if she’s afraid of someone overhearing her before leaning forward in her seat and saying, “This is weird, isn’t it? Why am I so nervous? We live together for God’s sake, and we’ve had dinner before. Not like this, obviously, but still. I mean, how come there are no prices on the menu? Is that normal? Is that how fancy restaurants like this trick you into ordering something super expensive or–?”

I laugh softly and place my hand over hers on the table, effectively cutting her off. “It is a little weird because we’ve never done this before and I’m nervous, too, but let’s not let the fact that we’re on our first official date be the reason why we have a bad time.” I smile  and bring her hand up to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Also, no, the restaurant isn’t trying to trick you into getting something super expensive. You just don’t have the prices on your menu because the waiter gave you what they call a ladies menu.” I grab my own menu and turn it around to show her that I have one with all the prices on it. “It’s weird, I know, and it’s a pretty outdated concept, but it is what it is and I want you to get whatever you want without feeling guilty about the cost, so maybe it’s a good thing.”

Sam presses her lips into a thin line because she still feels bad that I’m willing to spoil her all the time, so I send her a reassuring smile and wiggle my eyebrows suggestively. 

“Come on, live a little, Sammy. What else am I supposed to spend all my inheritance on except you and Tara?”

That makes her crack a smile and after a while we’re ready to order.

While Sam gets the Coq au vin, I order the mushroom risotto, and when the server asks us if we want wine with our food, I decline politely.

A glass of white wine would pair great with my risotto, but Sam can’t drink because of her meds, so I’m not drinking either.

“So,” I say as soon as the server is gone again. “How was your day?”

Sam turns her attention from the brightly lit city outside to me and raises an eyebrow as if asking if I really want to hear about her day when there’s so much more we could be talking about.

I nod encouragingly and take a sip of my water, my entire attention fixed on her despite the stunning view of the city around us.

This is a first date, yes, and people normally don’t talk about their day on a first date, but we’ve known each other forever and I’m simply here to enjoy her company and spoil her.

“Well. . .” Sam goes on to tell me about her relatively stress-free morning at the cafe she works at as a barista before diving into the photography lecture she had this afternoon.

Ever since I got my new job and we moved in together, I’ve managed to convince her not to work full time any more and find something she actually enjoys doing. At first, it took a while for her to figure out what she liked after being in survival mode for so long, but then she discovered her love for photography which is how she ended up enrolling in a couple of community college classes. 

She tells me about a couple of lighting techniques I’ve never heard of and goes on to explain the differences between digital and film cameras.

It’s fascinating, really, how much there is to know about photography, and I keep asking follow up questions which makes Sam’s eyes light up. 

I love listening to her talk, especially about things she’s excited about, but after twenty minutes of non-stop rambling, she asks me to tell her about my day.

“Well,” I start the same way she did while she takes a sip of water, “I went to work until four and then I went to the gym before heading home and getting ready.”

I add some details about a particularly interesting meeting I had before telling her about  a guy who tripped over some dumbbells in the gym, which makes her laugh.

Conversation flows easily after that until we finally get our food which, as expected, tastes absolutely amazing despite its insane price. We share some bites here and there, letting the other try each dish before our table gets cleared and our server hands us some dessert menus.

We’re both more than full, but after some back and forth we decide to order some chocolate souffle to share because neither of us can resist its calling.

In the end, it tastes even better than expected and I tell the server to give our compliments to the chef when he comes back to pick up the empty plate. 

After that, Sam excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and I’m quick to pay the check before she gets back.

“Ready to go?” I ask when she returns to the table which makes her smile and nod.

“Yes, let’s go home.”

I grab my jacket off the back of her chair and help her put it on again before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the restaurant.

Back on the street, the valet has already pulled my car around, so I tip him generously and help Sam into the car before getting in myself and driving off.

“Thank you for tonight,” Sam says after a moment of silence. “I had a lot of fun, and the food was terrific.”

I can’t look at her because I have to focus on the road, but I do smile and dip my chin to acknowledge that I heard her, adding, “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

Letting out a sigh of contentment, Sam places a hand on my thigh and lets silence wash over us while I continue driving us home.

It’s peaceful, and I feel all warm inside, knowing that she enjoyed the night as much as I have, but then her hand on my thigh starts moving upwards which makes my heart skip a beat. 

For a moment I think it might have been unintentional, but then she moves it even higher, and when I risk a glance at her I find her already looking at me with dark eyes.

“Sam. . .” I swallow thickly and shift in my seat, almost letting out a gasp when she starts tracing circles on the inside of my thigh with her thumb.

“Yes?” she asks, feigning innocence.

“D–Don’t do that,” I stutter. “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she says calmly and I grit my teeth when her hand moves up even further.

Since getting together we’ve had our fair share of kisses and make out sessions, but we never went further than that. In the beginning it was because of my back and then because we never really had any time for it with me figuring out my new job and Sam readjusting to her new life and finally doing something she likes. Tara being over constantly doesn’t help either, but tonight nothing is holding us back and Sam seems to know that.

I pull into the underground parking garage of our building in record time a couple of minutes later before turning off the car and leaning over the center console to capture Sam’s lips in a searing kiss.

She immediately reciprocates it and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss.

She tastes like the souffle we shared and I can’t help but shiver at the sound of a soft moan slipping past her lips when I trap her lower lip between my teeth.

The position we’re in isn’t comfortable by any means, but we don’t pull apart until we’re both panting, desperate for air.

“Shit,” Sam curses under her breath and when she looks at me I see nothing but desire in her half-lidded eyes.

“Should we take this upstairs?” I ask which makes Sam nod adamantly.

I jump out of the car and hurry to the other side of it to open Sam’s door and help her out.

“Thank you,” she says, still breathless, and before I know it her lips are on mine again as we stumble toward the elevator.

It’s hot and messy, but I can’t get enough of her and when we finally make it to our apartment we waste no time kicking off our shoes and making our way to the bedroom. 

As soon as the door slams shut behind us, Sam pushes me against it, her hands in my hair at the back of my neck to pull me infinitely closer.

My hands are around her waist, grasping at the fabric of her dress while our lips move against each other in a passionate kiss.

Sooner rather than later, much to my dismay, we’re both forced to break apart once again to catch our breath. 

Sam doesn’t seem bothered by it though because her lips find their way to my neck while her hands move down my body until they settle on my hips where her fingers play with the buckle of my belt.

It’s clear what she wants, but I don’t want to go on until she actually says it, so, reluctantly, I pull back so she’s forced to look up at me.

“Wha– Are you okay?” she pants, her lust filled eyes momentarily clouded with concern.

I chuckle breathlessly and tighten my grip around her waist to prevent her from stepping out of our embrace.

“I’m fine,” I assure her, pecking her lips. “But I need to know you’re okay with where this is heading.”

“I’m okay, I want this,” she whispers. She tugs on my belt and stands on her tiptoes to whisper the next part into my ear. “So would you please take my dress off and fuck me already?”

A strangled sound slips past my lips and I pull my head back so fast, I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash because of it. “You– You want me to. . . What?”

Sam smiles mischievously and bites her lower lip, looking up at me through her lashes. “You heard me,” she mumbles, “Fuck me.”

Goddamn.

I swallow harshly, hearing my heart pounding in my ears, but within the next second it’s as if a switch has been flipped in me.

I bend down and lift her up by the back of her legs, making her squeal in surprise before my lips are back on hers.

The position we’re in makes her dress ride up, but she doesn’t seem to care as she wraps her arms around my neck and starts grinding against my stomach.

“Fuck,’” I gasp when she bites my bottom lip and carry her to bed, making her laugh briefly when I unceremoniously dump her onto it so I can get to work on taking off my clothes while she watches.  

Once I’ve discarded all of them, I join her on the bed, making quick work of her dress while she runs her hands over my shoulders and nibbles on my earlobe. 

“I love you,” I whisper a couple of minutes later when she arches her back and moans against my lips.

“I. . . love you, too,” she sobs, her eyes screwed shut while her nails dig into my back and I’m quick to kiss her again to swallow her next moans and whimpers.

The next morning I wake up without Sam by my side, but when I sit up I smile at the smell of pancakes wafting into the bedroom. 

_______________________________________________

And they lived happily ever after!

Hi, everyone! I'm not back for good yet, but I just had to write this because it's been stuck in my head ever since finishing Back To You.

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who was part of creating the Back To You Playlist ❤️ I love you all and words cannot describe how honored I feel.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

* not proofread yet ‘cause I’m lazyyyyy

[ledesaid]

Almost Complete - Shazam without Achilles

↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕

AU - Billy receives the news, not all his sponsors agreed that he was to be the new champion of magic.

Solomon was happy to guide him with his advice. ▲ Hercules was convinced that he would be a great lion when he grew up a little. ▲ Atlas was very kind and is willing to bear some of the weight of the new champion. ▲ Zeus had given his approval in consensus with the choice of the wizard. ▲ Mercury really enjoyed feeling the strength of speed through Billy again. ▲ Achilles, yes, this Achilles... He didn't want him fighting for justice or fighting in general. He was completely against a child throwing himself against evil, injustice, pain, and many more things that Solomon hushed up so as not to worry Billy. ▲ It was non-negotiable, Achilles would not give his gift until Billy was an adult or understood the magnitude of what it meant not to have it.

Then...

Yes. There was something that didn't come in the demigod package instructions or even in the warnings...

Billy receives an echo of all the damage he recibes in his divine form.

And boy... does it hurt!

Billy has paraded through all kinds of injuries. Black eyes, some broken or bruised bone and he is proud of having recovered from all of them.

Although...

People are too scared about his integrity.

So, there was only one alternative left, you know, that's why he left the orphanage and all his previous foster homes.

He had gotten used to the whole system and was at a dead end at the same time. But he didn't want to give rise to misunderstandings... Misunderstandings that would generate a barrage of abuse reports... heavens.

That wasn't heroic.

"What happened to you, Billy?"

"Sorry, I fell again..."

Billy doesn't want them to get involved. He wants to be a hero and is willing to bear that weight. That's why he took what little he had and escaped.

So he is opting for a word-based approach. Talking is better than hitting. Solomon always whispers it and, given his situation, he tries to hold on as much as he can.

But sometimes... one cannot choose.

Hal: Cap, are you okay?

Marvel: Yes! It's just going to leave me an ugly bruise. Do you know... Do you know how to heal a rib at home?

Hal: We'll fix it in the Watchtower, Cap. Can you still fight?

Billy knows he should say no. The blow broke a couple of ribs, he has felt a tingling sensation, the magic has healed the blow... But the echo of the damage will leave him with a broken rib.

Another blow in the same place and it could be much worse... Going to a hospital and returning to the system... Goodbye Captain... Goodbye freedom... Hello endless persecution.

Marvel: Yes, throw it at me, I'll send it to jail with one hit.

Hal: That's the spirit, Cap!

With the end of the day, Captain Marvel delivered the final blow.

But the one who really took it was Billy.

As usual, the infirmary in the Watchtower did not detect any damage in his adult form... But they didn't know what awaited him in Fawcett.

Marvel: Batman, sir, I need to take a couple of weeks off. I have an urgent matter to attend to and it cannot be postponed.

Batman: I'm going to send the notice, so we can support you in your city. Thanks for today, Captain.

Marvel: Thank you very much too Batman, I don't know what I would do without you.

Batman: Captain... Are you sure you're not hurt?

Billy: I-I have the resistance of Achilles, remember? I mean! Of course, I'm not hurt, Mr. Batman!

Billy narrowly escapes and prepares. It's time.

That terrible moment in his superhero career...

The curtain must fall.

Billy has already thought about it. The magnitude of the injury...

He must transform as close as possible to the hospital. If he can walk, he will go to his hideout and if he can't, he will have to surrender. Escaping will be terrible, but he would think about that when the time came.

It takes a while, pronouncing that word is so easy... But now it brings a bitter taste.

Sha... Sha...

Billy sits down. It will hurt less if he is sitting when it happens.

Billy: Shazam...

Billy faints next to an alley. It's the last thing he sees before waking up in the hospital.

He wears an oxygen mask.

His head hurts... Had he also hit there?

There were several devices connected, oh, and a social worker next to his bed.

He rejoined the Watchtower three weeks later. Batman had many questions, and Captain Marvel did what he does best: he escaped.

[yuusishi]

Could I request headcanons of Ace, Silver, and Lilia being called their partner's whole universe?

. . . universe in my hands

pairings : Ace Trappola , Silver , Lilia Vanrouge

genre : fluff

cws/tws : none

a/n : struggling with extreme fatigue and a possible food poisoning with a side of a lung infection rn but we’re fighting we’re thriving. I also wrote this while dazed as fuck in a mall so if some things sound weird it’s cuz of that 🔥🔥

ACE TRAPPOLA !!

oh he’s teasing you for that that’s for sure.

“I’m your whole universe, huh? When did ya get all sappy 🤥” then proceeding to pinch your cheeks.

He’s giggling kicking his feet in his dorm room after he comes back (Deuce snitched), kicked off his shoes and landed face first into a pillow and everything like a loser.

Honestly made him feel so giddy but definitely didn’t show you while you were in front of him.

He wishes he had the shamelessness to declare his love upfront like you do, but he probably needs a couple more months to get the bravery to do that.

But don’t be discouraged! If you think he’s your universe then you’re whatever’s beyond it to him, he just won’t admit it.

SILVER !!

hashtag nonchalant (he was half awake when you told him)

on a serious note, he’d think it’s so cute and say you’re his universe too, even kissing you on the cheek after.

it would probably start a small phase where he would take pictures of the random animals that visit him throughout the day and say that it’s you

“This squirrel looks like you” “how so” “it’s cute”

unexpectedly rizzful (I’m sorry)

he still thinks about it every few hours and gets caught smiling and blushing slightly by the other diasomnia students, causing them to wonder what you did this time for Silver to be so lovesick.

LILIA VANROUGE !!

Contrary to popular belief, he’s probably stunned for a second or two!! He wasn’t big on romance back then and rarely ever got any romantic attention, so this would def surprise him a bit.

(We’re obviously making whatever Maleanor, Lilia, and Revan were an exception)

But once he’s recovered ooo prepare for the flirting of a lifetime, all genuine and coming from the very core of his heart of course.

He knows it’s a line that’s been said for millennia and that you weren’t the first to say it, but the words “you’re my entire universe, Lilia” said lovingly by you gave him butterflies in a way he thought he was too old for.

He’s not a shy person, so don’t expect him to not be dishing out a couple kisses and hugs for saying that.

[gigi-loveless]

could you maybe write something about abby comforting reader because she has past trauma from being in a toxic relationship?

kind of like reader does something wrong and freaks out but abby like helps her?

of course baby! hope you enjoy ‎♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

warnings - talks of past toxic relationship, dark inner thoughts

authors note - my messages are always open for all of you, no matter what.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

the rejuvenating breeze whisks through the french doors that enter out to abby’s backyard. it’s been a quiet day, abby needing to go to a work meeting early in the morning, so you decided to help out and do some chores to surprise her when she arrived back home.

humming along to the taylor swift song soaring over the radio, you pluck out the sheets you just washed, going to throw them straight into the dryer before noticing the pinkish hue plaguing the typically bright white fabric.

darkness washes over your once bright demeanor, knowing that abby spent a good amount of money on those nice sheets with the high thread count. you rummage through the washer, fishing out your bright pink shorts you thought you threw in with the last load.

stupid bitch. this is all your fault. you deserve this.

the sound of the garage door opening, and abby’s keys jingling in the door makes your stomach turn.

“hey babe, brought you a coffee!” abby hums, turning the corner into the laundry room where you’re hyperventilating over the open washer. the dizzying weight of what you just inflicted crushing you.

“hey hey hey,” she coos, setting your coffee down on the ironing board, engulfing you in her endlessly broad arms. “tell me what happened.” the blonde girl insists, wiping a stray tear from your eye.

“n-no…no!.” you sob, mascara stained tears dripping onto abby’s luckily dark button up.

“okay, okay….” she replies, smoothing down your hair and lifting you up to sit on the washer. “can you breathe with me? that’s it, good job.”

abby knew about your last relationship well. she figured it out pretty quickly after you cried the whole night over dropping a glass one of the first times you slept over. but abby’s abby, and she would go to the ends of the earth for you. so that next morning she spent on youtube watching other women who recovered from toxic relationships, trying her best to understand where your nightmarish thoughts come from, and how she can assist in handling them. she knows the ins and outs, and always insists on doting over you, even when you express that you feel like a burden.

“deep breath in for four…i know, hold it for four…out for four…hold it for four. can we repeat that?”

you nod, pressing your forehead to abby’s, connecting your breath.

“m-m’ sorry abby…..i-i just wanted to help,” you pant out, “and wash your sheets but i’m stupid and- and i stained them pink.”

you wince, preparing for the worst reaction possible.

but it’s abby.

running a calloused hand over the stained sheets, she starts giggling.

“well, pink is your favorite color isn’t it love? now i’ve got a piece of you in my room.” she affirms, swiping a stray tear from your eye. “and you’re not stupid at all. it was an honest mistake baby and besides, they’re just sheets.”

“y-you’re not mad?”

“wouldn’t dare to think it.” abby reassures.

all that tortured your spirit mere moments ago immediately melted away into abby’s honey sweet manner. “c’mon, i brought you some coffee from that new place that opened down the road, you wanna try it?” you nod, as abby helps you down, pulling you into her pine scented chest and pressing her lips tenderly to your hairline.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

join my taglist!

@abigails-gf @ellies2missingfingers @ellieslob @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrr @cowboylikeabi @pretty-forest-nymph @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @luvhyekook @peachesnbows @drunkonnatasha @seraphicsentences @elliewilliamsmaingirl @asmrgirll

[moonlitstoriess]

Binding Lies- Eris Vanserra x fem! reader (mini-series) Part 4

Summary: When Y/N, Azriel's secret half-sister who lives far away, and Eris Vanserra form a strategic contractual marriage to further their own agendas, what begins as a carefully crafted arrangement soon becomes more complicated. As they pretend to be a perfect couple, the lines between duty and desire blur, and neither is prepared for the consequences.

See masterlist

Previous part

Next part

Warnings: a brief intense scene, nothing explicit or smutty.

Y/N stood at the edge of the ship, watching the rolling waves below, the salty air sweeping across her face as the sails creaked in the breeze. The afternoon glow of the sun sent a sense of calm over her, a perfect scene to mark the beginning of this journey. Yet despite the beauty around her, her thoughts were already far away—reeling from everything she’d left behind.

She had never imagined that she’d be leaving Montesere, much less as a princess of all things. A fake one, yes, but still, the title clung to her now. And soon, she’d be stepping into the Autumn Court—Eris' court—and the sheer thought of it made her stomach twist. The uncertainty of everything, the fear of stepping into an entirely new world, gnawed at her insides.

It was then that Samira found her.

"You’re going to freeze out here," Samira called softly, her voice a gentle contrast to the bracing wind. She stepped closer to Y/N, holding out a blanket she had snatched from one of the deck chairs. "Come inside. You’ll catch a chill."

Y/N turned to face her, trying to force a smile but failing miserably. The worry was written all over her face, and Samira, always observant, didn't miss it.

"You know, I’m starting to think you like the cold," Samira teased, draping the blanket over Y/N’s shoulders.

"Maybe," Y/N said with a weak laugh, looking back out at the horizon. "Or maybe I’m just trying to ignore the fact that I’m about to be someone I’m not."

Samira’s expression softened, her teasing tone gone. She placed a hand gently on Y/N’s arm. "You’ll be fine. You have everything you need, including me. And Eris, of course."

Y/N nodded, appreciating the sentiment, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. But there was no turning back now, was there?

“Come on,” Samira said, pulling her gently away from the railing. “Let’s get you settled.”

A few minutes later, they were below deck, the steady rocking of the ship more noticeable here as they walked down the narrow corridors. Samira led her to a small, cozy room tucked in the corner, its walls lined with shelves of books and scattered trinkets. There was something surprisingly homely about it.

Samira gestured to the small armchair by the window. "This is my room," she said, sitting down across from Y/N.

Y/N sat, crossing her arms. "Wow, seems like you have settled in quite well. I didn’t know you were such a bookworm."

Samira grinned. "You’d be surprised. I had to learn a lot growing up. I mean, not just Montesere’s ways, but the ways of the outer world, too.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "The outer world?"

"Yes. The courts, the politics, the history, the fashion." Samira leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "And you, my dear, are going to need to learn all of it, starting with the Autumn Court."

Y/N froze. "Wait, what? The Autumn Court?" She shot Samira a look of disbelief. "Are you telling me you know everything about the Autumn Court?"

"Well, not everything." Samira smirked. "But I know enough."

Y/N was still recovering from the shock. "How the hell do you know so much about Autumn?"

Samira raised an eyebrow, her expression playful. "Oh, darling, I’m not just some girl from Montesere. I spent my childhood growing up alongside Princess Leone in the royal court. I’ve had lessons on everything—from history to politics to the little things like fashion and mannerisms. And since you’re about to step into their world, I thought it was time you got a little... introduction."

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror. "You want to teach me about the Autumn Court?" she said, her voice a mix of amusement and dread. "Isn't that Eris' job? Though, I don't know why I am asking that, he will most definitely laugh in my face if I asked him to teach me something."

"Yes, Eris could probably explain it better," Samira said, shrugging. "But he’s busy, and besides, I know enough to help you get started. Plus," she grinned, "I don’t think he’d be half as entertaining as me."

Y/N sighed. "I’m starting to regret this already."

The next few hours were a blur of history lessons, fashion critiques, and endless discussions about politics that Y/N couldn’t quite keep up with. Samira went into detail about how the Autumn Court presented themselves—how they were proud, meticulous, and formal in every way. How every word, every glance, every gesture carried weight. Y/N tried to take it all in, but her brain was on overload.

“And remember,” Samira said, tapping a finger against her chin as she rifled through a stack of books, “Autumn doesn’t just dress to impress—they dress to intimidate. Think dark, rich colors—burgundy, deep green, dark gold—and always, always, carry yourself with confidence. No slouching, no hesitation."

Y/N had no idea how she was going to pull this off, but she nodded along, too tired to argue. Samira seemed relentless, though. She had them standing up, practicing the perfect posture—shoulders back, chin up, eyes forward—until Y/N was sure her back would break.

"Alright, now your hands," Samira said, lifting Y/N’s arm as if she were a doll. "They should always be held with purpose—either clasped in front of you, at your sides, or in your lap. None of this flailing nonsense."

"Flailing nonsense?" Y/N repeated, unable to suppress a giggle.

Samira shot her a playful look. "Yes, flailing nonsense. You can’t have any of that. You’re a princess, not a dancing windmill."

Y/N laughed. "I’m sure the Autumn Court will love me."

Samira didn’t stop there. They spent hours going over every little detail—how to speak to the other courtiers, how to greet them, how to respond to their questions, even how to walk properly in a gown. By the end, Y/N felt like she was going to drop from exhaustion, but Samira’s energy seemed endless.

"Alright," Samira said with a satisfied grin, leaning back in her chair. "Enough about Autumn Court for now. We’ve covered all the basics. Time to move on to the rest of Prythian."

Y/N’s face fell. "Wait, what?"

"Oh yes," Samira said with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "If you’re going to fool anyone into believing you’re a true princess, you’ve got to know the history, the politics, and the fashion of every court. Not just Autumn."

Y/N’s eyes widened. "Are you kidding me?"

"Not at all," Samira said, clearly enjoying herself. "You have to be prepared, Y/N. This is no joke. You’ll need to know the ins and outs of every court—from the Night Court to the Spring Court to the Winter Court. The more you know, the better."

"I’m done for today," Y/N said, standing up abruptly. "I’m going to go for a walk or something."

Samira chuckled. "Oh, you’re not escaping me that easily, princess."

Y/N grinned mischievously and dashed for the door.

"You’re not getting away that easily!" Samira shouted after her, but Y/N was already halfway down the hall, laughing as she ran.

Samira’s laughter echoed in the distance as Y/N sprinted up the stairs, not caring who saw her in her mad dash. She needed to clear her head—if she had to hear one more lesson on Autumn Court, she might lose it.

"Catch me tomorrow, Samira!" Y/N called over her shoulder, already feeling the weight of the world lifted for just a moment.

"Don’t think I won’t!" Samira’s voice floated behind her, full of mirth.

Y/N smiled, her heart lighter than it had been all day. At least she had someone to help her through this ridiculous journey.

She had barely made it halfway up the stairs before a firm grip on her arm yanked her back into the shadows. Her breath hitched, and before she could react, her body was pressed against the cool stone of the corridor wall. The scent of salt and musk filled her nose, and she tensed, ready to strike whoever had dared to sneak up on her.

But then she heard that voice—the voice she would recognize anywhere.

"Shh, quiet," Eris murmured, his face inches from hers. His hand still held her arm, steadying her, but his presence felt like a thousand pounds pressing against her chest. "Others are watching."

Y/N blinked, eyes narrowing as she processed his words. "What the hell are you doing, Eris?" she hissed, attempting to free herself from his grip, though it was futile. His hold was firm but not painful.

"Act like a loving wife and follow me," he ordered in that cool, commanding tone that sent a shiver up her spine. There was something almost casual about it. Like he expected her to obey without question.

Her breath hitched in frustration. "I’m not your wife, you know. Not for real. You can’t order me around like—"

"Shh," he repeated, his voice quieter now, a strange intensity behind it as his gaze flicked to the doorway of a nearby room. He motioned for her to follow him, and despite her irritation, she found herself falling in line, if only for the sake of avoiding suspicion.

They walked in silence down the dimly lit hallway, their footsteps echoing softly as they passed by several crew members, none of whom paid them any mind. Still, the weight of the situation hung between them—her feigned compliance and his silent command. She caught a glimpse of the curious glances of a few passing sailors, but she kept her expression neutral.

Once they reached the door to their shared quarters, Eris pushed it open, guiding her inside with a flick of his hand. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Y/N stepped away from him, immediately rolling her eyes.

She sighed dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, looks like I really have to sleep with you for quite a while now, huh?"

Eris leaned against the door with a quiet chuckle. "Yep. Sorry, princess. We both have to endure each other until our time is up." His eyes met hers for a brief moment, a strange amusement flickering there before he smirked, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

Y/N couldn’t help but snort. "I’m so looking forward to this," she muttered under her breath. "Really."

Eris straightened up, his playful expression falling away, replaced with something closer to genuine curiosity. "Where were you for so long, anyway?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the suddenness of his question. She opened her mouth to respond but faltered as his expectant gaze pinned her in place. There was something oddly… insistent about the way he asked, as if he truly cared to know. It was such a stark contrast to the way he usually acted toward her.

"What? Why do you care?" she shot back, her defenses immediately going up. She was a little taken aback by his interest.

"Don't get all defensive on me," Eris said dryly, rolling his eyes. "I just asked."

Y/N stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he was getting at. Then, she sighed and reluctantly said, "I was with Samira. We were—"

"Learning about my court, I know," Eris interrupted, his tone dry. "I guessed as much."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Oh, so you’re spying on me now?"

Eris smirked, though his gaze was oddly calculating. "Not spying. Just paying attention." He paused before his smirk softened into something almost unreadable. "Did you even eat?"

Y/N blinked at the sudden change in his demeanor. "What?"

"I had food sent to Samira’s room for you two," Eris said, his eyes momentarily flicking away, almost as if he were avoiding her gaze.

Y/N snorted. "Why would you care?"

"I don't," he said quickly, too quickly. "I just thought you might have gotten distracted in all your learning. I figured you could use some food." He threw her a sideways glance, his expression unreadable. "Did you eat?"

"Yes, we ate," Y/N replied, giving him an incredulous look. "We were busy learning about your court, if you must know."

"Mm, I figured as much," Eris said with a small nod, rubbing his thumb against his chin in a thoughtful gesture. "And what did you learn?"

Y/N folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Well, Samira was making me memorize all kinds of nonsense about your court. You know, the usual—how to act, how to speak, the history, the fashion, the whole damn thing."

Eris leaned back slightly, letting out a low whistle. "Sounds exhausting."

"Yeah, you could say that." Y/N gave a small, sarcastic laugh. "I’m supposed to be your loving wife, remember? Apparently, it’s not enough that I’m faking it. I have to learn it too. History and everything."

Eris chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, if you want to fit in, you have to know what you’re doing. It’s not like they’re going to just take you in as you are."

"Not my fault your court is full of stuck-up snobs," Y/N muttered, rolling her eyes.

Eris' grin turned playful again. "That’s the spirit," he said, pushing off from the door and walking toward the window. He stood there for a moment, looking out over the sea before turning back to her. "I can teach you a few more things before we get there, if you’d like."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Like what? How to pretend to be a princess even better?"

"Precisely," he said with a teasing glint in his eye. "It’ll make the whole thing easier, I promise. You’d be surprised what knowing the right words, the right mannerisms, and the right… presence can do."

Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Great. More lessons."

Eris smirked, taking a step closer to her. "Trust me, princess. You’re going to need them."

Y/N wasn’t sure why, but something about the way he said that made her uneasy. She met his gaze for a moment, her heartbeat quickening in her chest, though she wasn’t sure why. She quickly pushed the feeling away.

"Alright, enough of that," she said, trying to shake off the tension. "I’m tired. I think I’ve learned enough for one day."

Eris raised an eyebrow. "Really? You’re not going to practice your posture one more time?"

She shot him a playful glare. "Not unless you want me to kill you in your sleep."

Eris chuckled, but the smile faded from his lips as he turned to the door. "Very well. I’ve got a meeting on deck with the officials. It’s late, and I should get going." He gave her a pointed look. "You should get changed."

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, their eyes met again, and for just a fleeting moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The tension between them, the shared space—everything felt… different.

Eris was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat. "I’ll be back shortly."

She nodded, still staring at him for just a beat longer than necessary. And then, without another word, he walked out, leaving her alone in the room.

Y/N stood there for a moment, trying to shake off the feeling in her chest. She let out a long breath and then, finally, moved to get ready for bed. She needed to rest, because tomorrow, she was going to face a new day—and who knew what Eris would throw at her next.

The rain had started softly, the kind that whispered rather than roared, and Y/N had been watching it from her cabin window, the rhythm of the droplets steadying her restless heart. She pressed her forehead to the cool glass, gazing out at the endless sea. It was still a marvel to her, the sheer vastness of it—how it stretched so far it seemed to blend into the sky at the edges. She’d never seen anything like it in Montesere.

Her thoughts wandered, a mixture of excitement and trepidation for the unknown that lay ahead. But her musings were cut short by a sudden, sharp clang from somewhere above, startling her so hard she nearly toppled backward.

The sound echoed through the corridor, followed by a low, ominous rumble that sent her pulse racing. Her gaze snapped to the window, where a flicker of orange light caught her eye. She froze. For a moment, she thought she was imagining it. But then the scent of smoke seeped into the room, faint but unmistakable.

Fire.

Panic shot through her like lightning. She flung open her cabin door, her feet bare against the cold wood as she bolted down the narrow hallway. The sound of her heartbeat roared in her ears, mingling with the distant crackle of flames and the thundering rain above.

The moment she pushed open the hatch, the storm greeted her with full force. The rain was no longer soft or whispering; it was a torrential downpour, soaking her to the bone within seconds. The wind howled, tearing at her hair and whipping the thin fabric of her nightgown against her skin.

She stumbled onto the deck, blinking through the sheets of rain. Her vision blurred as she searched for the source of the fire, the flickering light she’d seen from her cabin window. And there it was—a lantern, dangling precariously from the ship’s railing, its flame stubbornly clinging to life despite the storm.

Her heart lurched as the wind picked up, causing the lantern to sway violently. She watched, frozen, as it snapped free from its chain and plummeted to the deck. The glass shattered, scattering embers onto a coiled rope that had been left nearby.

The flames caught instantly, crawling up the fibers of the rope like serpents. Smoke billowed into the air, black and acrid, and Y/N’s instincts kicked in.

She darted forward, her feet sliding on the slick wood as she reached for the nearest bucket. It was half-full of rainwater, heavy as she hoisted it into her arms. The flames were growing, licking hungrily at the surrounding ropes. Her breaths came in short gasps as she hurled the water onto the fire, the hiss of steam rising in response.

The fire sputtered but didn’t die entirely. She grabbed another bucket, her arms shaking as she poured more water over the flames. This time, the fire went out, leaving behind a smoldering mess of charred rope and embers.

She collapsed to her knees, her chest heaving as she coughed against the smoke. The rain was relentless, washing away the soot and ash as it soaked her hair and skin.

“Gods,” she muttered, dragging a trembling hand down her face. “That could’ve been worse.”

The adrenaline began to fade, leaving her cold and exhausted. The rain continued to pour, and she realized she was shivering, the chill sinking deep into her bones. She needed to get back inside, back to the warmth of her cabin.

But her disorientation and the chaos of the storm made her clumsy. She stumbled as she turned, her wet feet slipping against the slick deck. When she finally found the door that led below, she didn’t realize until it was too late that she had taken a wrong turn.

She pushed open the door, expecting to find the familiar corridor that led to her cabin. Instead, she was met with warmth, light, and a room full of startled gazes.

It took her a moment to process where she was. The air was heavy with the scent of parchment, ink, and candle smoke. A long table dominated the room, its polished surface strewn with maps and papers. Around it sat a group of men, their expressions ranging from surprise to amusement to...lust.

At the head of the table sat Eris.

The golden glow of the lanterns cast shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the faint sneer that tugged at his lips. His auburn hair was slightly ruffled, and his piercing amber eyes were fixed on her.

Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat.

The room fell silent, the quiet hum of conversation replaced by the soft patter of rain against the windows. She became painfully aware of her appearance—her black nightgown plastered to her body, leaving little to the imagination. Her wet hair clung to her face and neck, droplets of water running down her skin.

Eris’s gaze didn’t waver. His eyes roamed over her, slow and deliberate, taking in every detail. She felt exposed, as though he could see straight through her, past her soaked clothes and into the very core of her being.

Her skin prickled under the intensity of his stare. Her fingers tightened around the doorframe, her knees threatening to give out.

“I…” Her voice came out as a whisper, barely audible over the storm outside. “I’m so sorry.”

Still, he didn’t speak. His jaw tightened, and something dark flickered in his eyes—anger, perhaps, or something else she couldn’t name. The weight of his gaze was suffocating, and she wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice trembling as she backed out of the room. She didn’t wait for a response, didn’t dare to look at anyone else. Turning on her heel, she fled down the hallway, her bare feet slipping against the wooden floor.

By the time she reached her cabin, her face was burning with shame. She slammed the door shut, pressing her back against it as she tried to catch her breath.

“What is wrong with you?” she muttered to herself, dragging her hands down her face. “Could you be any more of an idiot?”

Her mind replayed the scene in excruciating detail—the startled faces of the officials, the way their eyes lingered on her, and Eris’s unrelenting stare. She groaned, sinking onto the edge of her bed and burying her face in her hands.

The storm outside continued to rage, but inside her cabin, the only storm that mattered was the one raging in her chest.

The storm outside howled, but the meeting within the lavishly furnished room of the Autumn Court’s ship was far from peaceful. Eris sat at the head of the table, the weight of the discussions hanging heavily in the air. The council members around him—each a self-important, puffed-up figure in their own right—argued endlessly about the next steps of the alliance with Montesere. It was as if each male present thought their own opinion carried the weight of the gods themselves.

Lord Ryver, the most outspoken of them all, leaned forward, a smug smile plastered across his face as he spoke. “The alliance is set, Prince Eris. We’ve secured the resources of Montesere, but now we must focus on their integration. Their military is strong, yes, but their royal customs? That’s where we need our focus. If we want to solidify this partnership, we need to ensure they understand the respect owed to us.”

Eris maintained his composure, though his patience was starting to fray. He had heard enough of this. His entire life had been spent managing these petty conversations, these pointless power struggles among men who thought they understood how the world worked but were blind to its true complexities.

“Yes, Lord Ryver,” Eris said coolly, “and I’m certain they’ll be very receptive to such lessons.”

A few chuckles escaped the mouths of the other men, a sound that made his teeth grit. He suppressed the urge to remind them that the real question wasn’t whether they would be receptive but whether they would be able to offer the value they claimed.

Lord Thorne, a bit more pragmatic but equally full of himself, shifted his weight in his chair. “We must discuss the future implications of the alliance. Montesere’s king has been known to play a careful game, and his ambitions may be far greater than our own. We cannot allow him to overstep.”

Another round of murmurs filled the room, most agreeing, but Lord Harkin, a close ally to Ryver, scoffed. “We’ve already secured our end. If anything, it’s his turn to prove himself. He owes us, and the best way to ensure loyalty is to give him no room to maneuver. I say we remind him of that. His wealth and military will be ours, but he needs to understand the price.”

A heated discussion broke out, and Eris fought the urge to stand and leave. If these rotten bastards didn’t realize they were discussing matters of state as if it were a children’s game, he would have no choice but to make them understand the real stakes. But he needed to let them bicker for a bit longer. The balance of power was delicate, and this alliance wasn’t the only thing he had to navigate.

Just as Lord Ryver raised his voice again, speaking of their “unwavering superiority,” a shift in the air caught Eris’s attention. His gaze darted to the door, but no one else seemed to notice the subtle change in the atmosphere. And then, the door swung open, and everything stopped.

Y/N walked into the room.

For a moment, it was as if the world had halted. Eris’s breath caught in his throat, his entire body tensing. The sight of her, drenched from the rain, her black nightgown clinging to her curves in a way that left nothing to the imagination, was enough to freeze the blood of any man in the room.

Her wet hair, glistening, framed her face and spilled down her back. She looked like a goddess, but in the most dangerous way. Eris’s chest constricted at the sight of her, and for a moment, all he could do was stare. His thoughts became muddled, his usual control slipping dangerously as he looked at her.

He quickly tried to regain composure, but his body betrayed him. His pants tightened as the sight of her, so beautiful, so untouchable, filled his senses. Her curves, her body, glistening with rain, held him captive. He forced his eyes to stay on hers, locking in a fierce stare, trying to regain some semblance of control.

But then, something worse happened. He noticed the looks of the other males in the room—the other seven.

Lord Ryver, Lord Harkin, and even Lord Thorne were staring at her, their eyes sliding over her body with dark, lecherous thoughts swirling in their minds. Eris could see it in their eyes, could almost hear the vile ideas they were thinking. It made his blood boil.

The anger coursed through him, hot and fierce, and he couldn’t contain it. How dare they look at her like that? She was his. His.

His jaw clenched, and he quickly scanned the room to see who else was watching. Lord Ryver, Harkin, and Thorne were the worst offenders—eyes glued to her wet form as if they couldn’t look away. The others, some more reserved, still let their gaze linger.

Eris’s mind was filled with rage. What was she doing here? Why was she wet? What could possibly have brought her into this room in such a state?

And then, as if on cue, she spoke.

A meek “Sorry” escaped her lips, her voice barely audible, and she turned to leave, her wet form still shimmering in the candlelight. The door clicked softly behind her, and for a long, pregnant moment, the room remained in absolute silence.

Eris remained frozen in place, staring at the space where she had been, his mind in a whirlwind. Every part of him wanted to chase after her, to demand an explanation. But he couldn’t lose control—not here, not with these males watching.

He waited, counting the seconds, until the silence became unbearable. Then, he spoke, his voice cutting through the air with the cold, hard edge of a blade.

“The next time any of you—” Eris’s voice was a sharp whisper that cut through the stunned silence, his gaze sweeping across the room, making each male shrink under his icy stare. “The next time any of you look at my wife like that, or stare at her for longer than three seconds, my face will be the last thing you see.”

His words were a deadly promise. His voice was venomous, each word dripping with a threat that made the room grow colder.

Lord Ryver shifted uncomfortably, his arrogance faltering as he tried to compose himself. Lord Thorne looked as if he might protest, but a single glance from Eris silenced him.

“You will respect her,” Eris continued, his voice dropping dangerously low. “If any of you so much as think of disrespecting her, I will make sure you regret it.”

His gaze landed on Lord Ryver once more, and a dangerous glint sparked in Eris’s eyes. “Understood?”

The males nodded, some looking paler than others, and all the bravado drained from them like water. They were afraid now.

Eris stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he leaned forward. “Good,” he said, his tone colder than the winter winds outside. “Now, back to business.”

And with that, he turned his attention back to the meeting, his mind still swirling with possessiveness and fury. He had to keep it together, maintain the façade. But his anger was still simmering, and he would deal with her later. The game wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

As the meeting resumed, the males remained uncomfortably silent, all too aware of the danger in Eris’s words. Eris sat back, his icy exterior returning, but inside, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something—someone—had irrevocably changed.

A knock on the door jolted her from her chaotic thoughts, her heart racing as though she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Y/N opened the door to find Samira standing there, her expression a mixture of worry and curiosity.

Samira’s gaze flickered over Y/N’s soaked figure, her hair dripping water onto the floor and her damp gown clinging to her skin. “I came as soon as I saw you,” Samira said, her voice soft yet urgent. “You were running back here, soaking wet, and I—”

“They all saw me,” Y/N interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Samira’s eyes. Her cheeks burned, and a knot tightened in her chest as the words left her mouth.

“What?” Samira asked, her brow furrowing.

Y/N sighed and rubbed her face with trembling hands, her frustration bubbling over. “They saw me! All of them! The lords, the courtiers… Gods, Samira, their eyes were on me, all of them! What did they think? How much of an embarrassment I must be! How much I’ve probably disappointed Montesere!”

Samira opened her mouth to respond, but Y/N wasn’t finished.

“They’ll think I’m unworthy,” Y/N continued, pacing the room as she ranted. “A failure! A mess! I already feel like I don’t belong, like I’m constantly falling short, and this—this just proves it! They’ll think I’m weak, incapable of holding my place at his side, and I—”

“Y/N.”

Samira’s gentle voice cut through her spiral, accompanied by the light pressure of her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N stopped pacing, her breaths coming fast and shallow as she finally turned to look at her friend.

Samira offered a small, reassuring smile, her dark eyes soft with understanding. “Breathe,” she said calmly. “Just breathe. It’s alright.”

Y/N shook her head, still frantic. “But it’s not! You didn’t see how they looked at me—”

“It’s their fault for looking,” Samira interrupted firmly. Her voice carried an edge of steel that Y/N hadn’t expected. “Not yours. You did nothing wrong.”

Y/N blinked at her, her chest still heaving with panic.

“You’re not a disappointment,” Samira continued, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re still learning, and that’s okay. You have a long way to go, but you’re stronger than you think. And anyone who judges you for something so insignificant isn’t worth your energy.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight. She wanted to believe Samira’s words, but the weight of her embarrassment pressed down on her like a boulder.

“Come on,” Samira said, taking Y/N’s hand and leading her toward the adjoining washroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Inside, Samira began filling the tub with warm water, the soothing sound of running water filling the small space. She moved with calm efficiency, gathering towels and fragrant oils as she spoke softly to Y/N.

“Everything will be fine,” Samira said as she worked. “You’ve been through worse than this, haven’t you? A little water and a few stares won’t break you.”

Y/N leaned against the counter, watching Samira set up the bath. Her hands fidgeted with the damp fabric of her gown as she muttered, “But what if—”

“No ‘buts,’” Samira interrupted gently, glancing over her shoulder with a knowing smile. “Trust me. You’re overthinking it. Now, get in here.” She gestured toward the steaming bath with a playful nudge.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before finally shedding her wet gown and stepping into the tub. The warm water enveloped her, soothing her tense muscles and washing away the lingering chill.

Samira stayed by her side, chatting about lighter topics—gossip from Montesere, amusing memories from her past, and plans for the future. Her presence was a balm to Y/N’s frayed nerves, and Y/N found herself relaxing more with each passing moment.

By the time Y/N stepped out of the bath, dried off, and changed into a fresh nightgown, the tension in her chest had eased significantly. She settled onto the bed as Samira sat beside her, a jar of cream in her hands.

“Here,” Samira said, dipping her fingers into the cream and applying it to Y/N’s face with careful precision. “This will help with the redness.”

Y/N closed her eyes, letting out a small sigh as Samira’s fingers moved gently across her skin. The soft, warm ambiance of the room was a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed her earlier.

The peace didn’t last long.

The door opened, and the warm, comforting atmosphere of the room was replaced by a cold, oppressive tension.

Eris stepped inside, his expression a mask of controlled fury. His golden eyes locked onto Y/N, and her breath caught in her throat.

Samira stiffened beside her, her hands freezing mid-motion. Slowly, she withdrew them, her gaze darting between Y/N and Eris.

“Out,” Eris said, his voice sharp and commanding.

Samira hesitated for only a moment before bowing her head. “Of course, prince.” She rose gracefully, offering Y/N a small, reassuring smile as she moved toward the door.

Once Samira had left and the door clicked shut behind her, Y/N was left alone with Eris. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

Her heart raced as she sat frozen on the bed, bracing herself for whatever was to come.

The room was so still it felt suffocating, the tension thicker than the storm clouds that had drenched her. Eris stood a few feet away, unmoving, yet his presence seemed to fill the entire space. His amber eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, unblinking as they bore into her. She could feel the heat of his fury, even though he hadn’t said a word yet.

“Look at me,” he finally commanded, his voice quiet but sharp as a blade.

Her head snapped up instantly, obeying the authority in his tone before she could even think. Her pulse raced as she met his gaze, the sheer intensity in his expression pinning her in place.

“What,” he began slowly, each word deliberate, “the hell were you doing outside in the rain?”

Y/N blinked at him, her mouth opening and closing as her thoughts scrambled. “I—I was—” she stammered, her voice cracking. Suddenly, her body moved on its own, standing up and placing the bed between them as though the piece of furniture could shield her from the storm brewing in him. “There was almost… fire. The lantern fell outside. No one was out there, no one saw it, but I did. I had to!”

His expression didn’t change, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She felt her cheeks heat as she kept babbling, the words pouring out in a frantic rush.

“It could’ve turned into something worse, Eris! The rain was coming down so hard, and I—I thought it was better to handle it myself instead of bothering anyone else, and—”

“That’s not your job,” he cut in, his tone clipped, cold, and cutting through her rambling like a blade.

“What?” she asked, startled by the interruption.

“It’s not your job to be doing those things,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time. “There should’ve been workers outside to handle that.”

She gaped at him, disbelief mingling with her growing frustration. “Are you kidding me? It was pouring rain! Why would someone be outside?!” Her voice rose as she gestured wildly. “The lantern fell right in front of our window, I saw it, so I handled it! Why wouldn’t I—”

“You could’ve been hurt.”

The words were delivered in a tone slightly louder than before, sharp enough to silence her. Y/N froze, the air between them charged with something that made her stomach flip. His anger wasn’t just annoyance or frustration; it was something deeper.

Eris slowly began to move, his steps measured and deliberate as he circled the bed. His gaze never left hers, pinning her in place like a hawk closing in on its prey.

“What kind of a husband would I be,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “if I allowed you to keep hurting yourself?”

Her breath caught in her throat. His words were so unexpected, so layered with meaning, that she couldn’t immediately respond. Her eyes stayed locked on his, wide with shock as he stopped just a step away from her.

“You’re not my real husband,” she blurted out, her voice quieter than she intended but no less resolute.

Eris tilted his head slightly, his expression darkening. “And?”

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. “You don’t need to pretend here,” she said, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempt at defiance.

His jaw ticked, and she knew she’d hit a nerve. For a moment, she thought he might lash out, but instead, his voice came out calm, eerily calm.

“All of them saw you,” he said, his tone softer now but no less intense.

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as his words sank in. She shook her head, her thoughts racing. “I—I didn’t mean to… I swear, I didn’t know where I was going, I wasn’t thinking, I just—”

Eris’s gaze softened suddenly, his features relaxing in a way that caught her completely off guard. Before she could process it, he reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her skin.

“I know,” he murmured. “No need to apologize.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She stared at him, caught between disbelief and something she couldn’t quite name.

Y/N sighed, the weight of her embarrassment crashing down on her again. “They probably think so lowly of me now,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “They probably think I’m some kind of… whore.”

The word barely left her lips before Eris’s expression darkened once more, the possessiveness in his eyes blazing back to life.

“They won’t be thinking any of that,” he said firmly, his voice laced with steel. “I made sure of it.”

Her eyes widened, her shock evident as she searched his face for any sign of insincerity. “What… what do you mean?” she whispered.

“No one will ever look down on you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not while I’m here.”

He took another step closer, erasing the distance between them until they were almost touching. His golden eyes burned into hers, and Y/N found herself unable to look away.

“Just next time,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper, “come get me.”

She nodded slowly, her heart hammering in her chest. The intensity of his presence was overwhelming, consuming, and she felt like she was teetering on the edge of something she didn’t fully understand.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the moment broke. Eris stepped back, the warmth of his body leaving her as he turned toward the washroom.

“I’m in dire need of a relaxing bath,” he said, his tone returning to its usual cool detachment. Without another glance, he disappeared into the washroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Y/N stood there in stunned silence, the room suddenly feeling too empty and too loud all at once. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she tried to process what had just happened, her mind replaying his words over and over.

Come get him? What did that even mean?

Her legs finally gave out, and she sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands trembling slightly as she stared at the closed washroom door. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t know what to think—or how to feel.

The room was enveloped in darkness, the faint scent of candle wax lingering in the air. Y/N lay on the bed, her back turned towards the other side, her body stiff with the weight of thoughts pressing down on her. She wasn’t asleep—far from it. Her mind was a tumultuous storm of guilt, confusion, and dread. Her fingers nervously twisted the edge of the blanket as she replayed the events of the day over and over. The meeting. The stares. Eris’ voice, his touch. The fire in his eyes when he’d spoken to her, the way his gaze had seared through her.

Her chest tightened. She didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or something else entirely. What had he thought of her? What had those other males thought of her? Shame mingled with her self-recrimination. A Monteserian "princess", soaked to the bone, stumbling into a room full of Autumn courtiers like a fool. What a sight she must have been.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing sleep to come, but it eluded her. The ship creaked softly with the rhythm of the waves, the distant hum of the sea the only sound filling the silence—until his voice pierced through the darkness.

"I know you're awake."

Her body jolted, startled by how effortlessly he seemed to read her. She didn’t turn to face him, but her breathing hitched. For a long moment, the room was silent again, save for the creaks of the ship and the muffled lapping of water against the hull.

Finally, she sighed. “I can’t sleep,” she admitted quietly.

Another pause, and then, "What’s on your mind?"

She hesitated, not expecting such a question from him. It was easier to avoid the truth, so she deflected, “Tell me about the courts.”

She waited, expecting him to scoff or brush her off, perhaps even mock her for being naive. Instead, to her surprise, he answered.

Eris began speaking in his calm, measured tone, his voice cutting through the stillness like a warm blade. “The Summer Court. Hotheaded fools, most of them. They think the sun and their endless coastline make them untouchable. Tarquin’s a decent enough High Lord—idealistic and stubborn. He always has a way of seeing the good in people, even when there’s none to be found.”

Y/N turned slightly, her gaze now fixed on the window, the faint sliver of moonlight creeping through. She listened as Eris continued, painting a picture of the courts in his sharp, unfiltered way.

“The Spring Court? Tamlin’s a shadow of what he once was. After everything, his court barely functions. I’d be shocked if they made it through another decade without collapsing entirely. He spends most of his time drinking himself into oblivion.”

“Day Court,” he continued, his tone a touch more neutral, “is ruled by Helion, a High Lord who’s almost as arrogant as I am, though at least he’s clever. Knowledge is power there. You’d like their libraries, I think.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the casual compliment buried in his words.

“Winter is quiet,” he added, his voice softening slightly. “Kallias keeps to himself. They’re not involved in much unless it’s forced on them.”

“And the Night Court?” she asked hesitantly, her pulse quickening.

Eris hesitated, and she felt the weight of his silence as if he were carefully choosing his words. “The Night Court… Rhysand and his Inner Circle think they’re saviors of the realm. They’ve built themselves quite the empire, but alliances with them are… complicated. I don’t care for friendships or grand ideals, so we keep things civil. Barely.”

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest as she anticipated his next words.

He spoke of multiple fae in the Night court, different people who served Rhysand. He spoke of his closest court too, of some "weird witch" named Amren, of Mor--though Y/N could feel the clear frustration and discomfort he had when speaking of her--of Feyre, Nesta and Elain, of Cassian and lastly....Azriel.

“Azriel,” he said at last, his tone dipping slightly. “He’s one of Rhysand’s spymasters. A shadow-singer. We don’t exactly… get along.”

The air seemed to grow heavier, Y/N biting her lip as she tried to maintain her composure.

“Why not?” she asked carefully, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eris exhaled, and she could feel the shift in his demeanor even though she wasn’t looking at him. “Maybe another day,” he said curtly, signaling the end of that topic.

She nodded, not wanting to push him further. But before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out. “Tell me more about Azriel.”

Eris was silent, and she immediately regretted asking. But then, his voice cut through the darkness again, tinged with a slight edge of curiosity. “Why are you so interested in him?”

“I…” she scrambled for a response. “I’ve just heard of him before, that’s all.”

He didn’t press further, and she exhaled in relief as he began to speak again, though his tone was sharper now, as if discussing Azriel put him on edge. “He’s a dangerous male. A shadow-singer is not someone to underestimate, no matter how composed they seem. He’s loyal to Rhysand, as are the rest of that blasted court. But loyalty doesn’t make him any less insufferable.”

Y/N’s chest ached with every word, her emotions threatening to spill over. Eris had no idea. He had no idea that Azriel—the male he so clearly despised—was her half-brother.

“Will we… will we ever meet these people?” she finally asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Eris sighed. “Of course. They’re High Lords, Y/N. There will be gatherings, events, and plenty of occasions where you’ll have to meet them.”

Her throat tightened. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “I’m not used to it… to any of this.”

Eris didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, she thought he might brush her off. But then his voice came, steady and firm. “You’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t said softly, nor was it cruel. It was simply a statement, one that carried a strange sort of reassurance.

“Go to sleep,” he said after a moment, the finality in his voice clear.

She turned her head slightly, catching the faint silhouette of him lying on the bed, his back turned to her. The ship creaked again, the sound of the waves filling the room once more. Y/N stared out the window, her thoughts swirling as the moonlight cast its faint glow.

Eventually, the exhaustion of the day overtook her, and she drifted off into a restless sleep, the weight of everything she had learned—and everything she still didn’t know—pressing down on her chest.

The sun was shining mercilessly today, as if it had no recollection of the thunderstorm that had raged through the night. The ship was steady underfoot, the waves lapping gently against the hull, their rhythm a far cry from last night’s chaos. Eris stood in his private office below deck, gazing out through a small circular window at the sparkling sea. The sunlight streamed in, making the wood-paneled walls appear golden, and yet his thoughts were far from serene.

The late-night conversation with Y/N refused to leave his mind. Her voice, low and hesitant, lingered like a melody. She had asked about the courts, about him. He hadn’t anticipated her curiosity about Azriel, nor the way it would unsettle him. She had hung on every word, her questions so deliberate, so measured, as though she were walking a fine line. Why? Why the sudden interest in a spymaster of the Night Court, someone she had likely never even met?

Eris scowled and turned away from the window, pacing the length of his cabin. Y/N was a puzzle he hadn’t yet figured out, and every moment he spent with her only added more pieces to the board. She had been quiet, introspective, but there was a storm brewing beneath that calm surface—he could feel it. And yet, despite his irritation at her elusiveness, he found himself drawn to her in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

A sharp knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. One of the ship’s servants stepped in, bowing slightly before addressing him. “The breakfast you wished for is ready, my prince. Princess Y/N has been informed and is already waiting for your arrival.”

Eris nodded curtly, dismissing the servant with a wave of his hand. He lingered for a moment, running a hand through his hair before straightening his tunic. He told himself the breakfast was a necessity, part of the elaborate charade they were playing. A loving couple, deeply bonded, unshaken by the whispers of court politics or the tension that surrounded them.

That’s all it was, he told himself firmly. But a nagging voice in the back of his mind suggested otherwise.

He ascended the stairs to the deck, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding him. As his eyes adjusted, he scanned the ship, his gaze drifting toward the nose where the table had been set. And there she was.

For a moment, he froze.

Y/N stood by the railing, the sunlight dancing on her skin. She wore a simple yet elegant dress, its fabric flowing lightly in the sea breeze. The color—a soft, muted blue—brought out the brightness of her eyes, and the cut was both practical and feminine, perfectly suited for a day on the ship. Her hair had been swept up into an intricate style, with loose strands framing her face, giving her a radiant, almost ethereal appearance.

She turned as she heard him approach, and when her gaze met his, she smiled. The kind of smile that could disarm anyone.

Before he could gather his thoughts, she crossed the deck and took his hand, her touch warm and soft. “Come on,” she said, her voice light, almost playful. She led him to the table, her fingers curling around his in a way that felt… deliberate. He quickly realized why. The servants were still arranging the last of the breakfast, their eyes flickering toward the two of them.

She’s putting on a show, he realized, schooling his expression into a neutral mask.

When they reached the table, Y/N released his hand, and the servants stepped back, bowing slightly before disappearing below deck.

“I’m glad you made us sit far away,” Y/N said as she settled into her seat. “I don’t like too many eyes on me.”

Eris raised a brow, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I needed to make sure we were having a proper couple’s breakfast,” he said, his tone laced with mild sarcasm, “not putting on a performance for the entire crew.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she shook her head, taking a sip of water.

They ate in relative quiet for a while, the hum of the ship and the cries of distant seabirds filling the space between them. Eventually, Eris broke the silence. “Your hairstyle is… different today.”

Y/N looked up, startled, and her fingers brushed against the intricate twists and braids. “You like it?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. “Samira put a lot of effort into it this morning.”

Eris found himself smiling faintly, though he quickly masked it. “She did a fine job,” he said smoothly.

Y/N’s smile widened, and they fell into easy conversation, a surprising shift from the tension of the night before. She was more animated today, more relaxed, and it was… disarming.

Then, out of nowhere, she mentioned a name.

Tideholt.

Eris froze mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air. “What did you say?”

“When Samira was helping me get ready,” Y/N repeated, her voice soft, “she mentioned a harbor city we’ll be passing today. I’d like to go there.”

Eris’ brows furrowed. “Why?”

Y/N sighed, setting her utensils down. “I haven’t seen the world beyond Montesere, Eris. Please. Just one stop. We’ll look around, that’s all.”

He frowned, considering her request. “That place is not exactly…” He trailed off, unsure how to explain the harbor’s reputation without alarming her. “It’s not the kind of place you wander around unguarded.”

“I’ll have you with me, won’t I?” she countered, her tone hopeful.

Eris stared at her, torn between irritation and something he couldn’t quite name. Finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Fine. I’ll inform Captain Lorrick to dock there for a few hours. We could use some extra supplies anyway.”

Y/N’s face lit up, her smile so bright it momentarily stunned him. For a fleeting moment, she looked… unreal. Like something out of a dream.

He quickly recollected himself, clearing his throat as he looked away. “Now eat your food,” he said gruffly.

She grinned, but to his relief, didn’t press further. They ate the rest of their meal in a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need words. But Eris’ mind was far from quiet.

Y/N was a mystery. And the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to unravel it.

The excitement had been building within Y/N all morning as the ship neared Tideholt, the harbor city that Samira had mentioned earlier. She stood at the edge of the ship, her hands gripping the railing as she gazed out at the sprawling city on the horizon. The waters seemed to part around them as the ship drew closer, and she couldn’t help the flutter of anticipation that bubbled in her chest.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across the sea and the city itself. Tideholt was nestled against the coastline, its buildings rising in layers up the cliffs, with narrow streets winding through them. The air was fresh with the salty scent of the sea and the promise of new experiences. The ships that dotted the harbor looked like giant, sturdy beasts, each one with its own tale to tell. The city’s shores were lined with docks, bustling with activity, as merchants, sailors, and traders shouted and bargained. She could feel the energy of the place already, and it sent a thrill through her veins.

Beside her, Samira stood, her eyes wide in wonder. “Gods,” she murmured, “how unusual it is to be so far from home.”

Y/N nodded, her voice quiet as she responded. “Yes. It feels… different. Like there’s more to see than just what’s in Montesere.”

Samira grinned, her eyes glinting with excitement. “I’ve heard rumors about places like this—about the lives lived outside our walls. I can’t wait to see what it’s really like.”

Y/N felt a lightness she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. A sense of possibility, a break from the heaviness of her past and the role she had been cast into. For just a moment, it felt like she could breathe again. A life beyond her duty and the expectations that followed her.

Their chatter was cut short as one of the sailors called out from the ship, his voice booming over the clamor of the busy harbor. “Docking in five minutes! Get ready!”

The announcement broke the spell of excitement, and Samira turned to Y/N, her grin widening. “Come on,” she said eagerly, “let’s see what this harbor city is like, shall we?”

Y/N laughed, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. “Yes. Let’s.”

The ship creaked and groaned as it made its way closer to the dock, the sailors expertly maneuvering it into place. The air was filled with the scent of brine, and Y/N could hear the distant calls of gulls above them, their wings sweeping in arcs over the water. As the ship slowed to a stop, she couldn’t contain the rush of emotion that surged within her. They had finally arrived.

Once the ship was docked, Y/N stepped forward, her eyes scanning the bustling port city before her. Her heart raced with anticipation. There was so much to take in—the clatter of wooden carts being loaded with goods, the colorful flags fluttering in the breeze, and the multitude of people going about their business in all manner of dress. She caught glimpses of people from all walks of life: sailors with weather-beaten faces, merchants shouting their wares, women in brightly colored dresses, and children darting through the crowd. The city had an energy, a pulse, that she had never experienced before.

She took a deep breath, letting the salty air fill her lungs, the cool breeze tugging at her hair. This place was nothing like Montesere, and it made her feel small and infinite at the same time.

Eris stepped beside her, his presence grounding her. He said nothing, but his eyes scanned the scene in front of them, his sharp gaze missing nothing.

When the gangplank was lowered, Y/N walked forward, her body filled with an unfamiliar sense of purpose. She wasn’t sure what she expected from this city, but it was more than she’d imagined. The smell of fresh fish, the sounds of the sea, the clinking of coins—it all felt so alive.

She could hear Samira’s light footsteps behind them, but she kept her eyes forward, her focus solely on the way the city stretched before her. There was a quiet thrill building in her chest, something that had been dormant for too long. A desire to explore, to see things for herself, beyond the rigid confines of her life back home.

As she stepped off the ship, she felt a tug at her hand. She turned to see Eris, his grip firm around her wrist. His hand tightened as he pulled her slightly closer, and Y/N found herself staring up at him in confusion.

“Eris?” she whispered, her voice laced with uncertainty.

He leaned in slightly, his expression stern. “Trust me when I say this place is too dangerous,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t argue with me about it here.” His tone held an authority that made her spine stiffen.

Y/N felt a flicker of surprise, followed by a flash of uncertainty. The city, with all its vibrancy, was suddenly not what she had thought it would be. Dangerous? The thought left her unsettled, but she didn’t argue. She simply nodded.

Eris didn’t look back at her, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he spoke to the rest of the court. “Do as I tell you,” he ordered. “Stay out of trouble. If you’re given orders, follow them. We need supplies, but don’t stray far.”

A few guards and courtiers dispersed at his command, but Samira stayed close, walking a few paces behind them with another guard. Y/N wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse, but it was clear that Eris was making sure no one got too close to her, not even Samira.

Eris’s hand remained around her wrist, and she found herself walking beside him, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cobbled streets as they moved deeper into the city. Her heart pounded, not with excitement, but with the awareness of how tightly he was controlling the situation.

The streets of Tideholt were narrow, winding between buildings that were both charming and worn by time. There were people everywhere—fishermen hauling nets, children running with baskets, vendors selling goods from carts. The sea was always nearby, its waves crashing against the dock, reminding Y/N of the vastness of the world she had yet to discover.

But as she looked at Eris beside her, his eyes sharp and focused, she understood that this place, for all its beauty, was not a safe haven. It was a place of danger, a place where anything could happen—and she wasn’t sure she was ready for whatever Eris was trying to shield her from.

As they walked, Eris kept his grip on her wrist, his fingers warm and firm around her skin. He was a shield, a protector in his own way. She had never been given this much attention, never had someone so clearly watch over her every move. It felt suffocating and comforting all at once.

Finally, after a few moments of silence, Eris spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay close,” he said. “Don’t wander off.”

Y/N nodded, her throat tight as she followed him deeper into the unknown.

The sounds of the city filled his ears—the bustling chatter of vendors, the calls of the street performers, and the rhythmic clatter of feet on cobblestones—but none of it could drown out the sound of her laughter, high and free. Her steps were light as she skipped from stall to stall, her fingers brushing the goods on display, her face alight with the thrill of the moment. It was as though the entire city was a playground, and she was the most carefree child in it.

She had started out quietly, but as they ventured further into Tideholt, she transformed. Eris watched, a faint smirk pulling at his lips, as Y/N darted from one vendor to another, her eyes gleaming with excitement. It was contagious, her energy making the mundane appear magical. She had no care for the grandeur of the world she was used to—this was real, this was spontaneous, and it was nothing like Montesere.

“I need this,” she said suddenly, holding up a set of beautifully beaded earrings from a street vendor. They shimmered in the sunlight, vibrant and full of life, the colors dancing as if they had a mind of their own. She turned to Samira, who was walking beside them, her expression equal parts amused and fond. “What do you think?”

Samira raised an eyebrow. “They’re… bold.”

Y/N laughed, spinning on her heel. “I think I’ll take them,” she said, and without waiting for another word, she handed over the coin and accepted the jewelry from the vendor, her fingers eagerly fastening the earrings in place.

Eris, walking a few paces behind, couldn’t help but watch her, his sharp eyes observing her every move. There was something about the way she moved—free and untethered—that stirred a strange feeling in him. The carefree joy on her face, the way she interacted with the people around her, the way she laughed—it was all so unfamiliar.

It wasn’t the female he had come to know—the one who carried the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders. It was a different side of her, one that hadn’t been given room to breathe in the shadow of responsibility. And for a moment, he found himself almost… envious.

But he quickly pushed that aside. He wasn’t here for distractions. They had a mission, a purpose. Still, the sound of her laugh—the brightness of it—tugged at something inside him. It unsettled him, the way it made him forget the sharp edges of his own reality.

“You’re going to bankrupt me at this rate,” he said, his voice dry but playful as Y/N ran ahead once more, her laughter ringing through the air. She had spotted a cart selling brightly colored silk scarves, and without hesitation, she was already making her way to it.

She grinned over her shoulder at him, her face a picture of mischief. “Not if you’re the one who keeps paying for them, my dear husband,” she teased, and then turned her attention back to the scarves.

Eris’ smirk deepened, his thoughts momentarily clouded by the way she referred to him. There was something about the way she said it, as if the pretense had become second nature to her, that made his chest tighten. It was all just a game to her, wasn’t it? Just another act in a long string of performances. But the realization stung a little more than he expected.

He pushed the feeling away, focusing instead on the bright colors and chaos around them.

After buying yet another trinket—a tiny carved wooden horse that Y/N insisted was “too cute to pass up”—she stopped to catch her breath. Samira was shaking her head, half-smiling, as she gave the small bags to the guard.

“Can’t you go five minutes without finding something to buy?” Samira teased.

Y/N grinned. “I’m enjoying myself. Don’t ruin it.”

And with that, she darted off again, this time pulling Eris along with her, much to his surprise. He could hardly keep up as she raced toward a juggler performing for a small crowd. She was utterly caught up in the spectacle, eyes wide with wonder as the juggler tossed knives into the air, spinning them in graceful arcs.

Eris couldn’t help but chuckle, his amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re incorrigible.”

But then, as if the universe itself had decided to break the spell, everything shifted in an instant.

A scream rang out.

It cut through the laughter of the crowd, jolting everyone into a stunned silence. The juggler froze midair, the knives clattering to the ground. Y/N’s hand flew to her chest, her breath catching in shock as she looked around, trying to identify the source of the scream.

The air grew heavy, the vibrant atmosphere of the market turning to a tense stillness. Eris immediately moved closer, his body instinctively shielding Y/N as his eyes scanned the crowd. Something was wrong.

Another scream—this time more guttural, more panicked.

Then, chaos erupted.

A group of masked figures appeared from the shadows of the surrounding alleyways, their faces obscured by dark cloths. They moved with a terrifying precision, slicing through the crowd, their eyes scanning every face, every person in their path. Eris’ hand went to the hilt of his blade, his movements swift and deliberate as he pulled Y/N behind him. The guard beside Samira did the same.

“Stay close,” he growled, his voice low and urgent.

Y/N’s pulse raced as she clutched his arm, her eyes wide. “What’s happening?” she whispered, fear beginning to creep into her voice.

Before Eris could answer, the masked figures began to charge toward them. The air was filled with the sound of feet pounding against the cobblestones, and then one of them—a tall man with a scar running across his cheek—lunged toward Eris, blade drawn.

Eris was quicker.

In one smooth motion, he drew his own blade and blocked the strike, his face hardening with cold determination. But as he fought off the attacker, another figure appeared behind him, aiming a dagger at Y/N. She barely had time to react before she felt a cold hand grab her wrist, yanking her away.

“No!” Eris shouted, turning just in time to see her being pulled into the chaos.

Adrenaline surged through him as he rushed forward, but the crowd was too thick, the figures too numerous. He caught a glimpse of Samira and the guard somewhere, fighting off another group of attackers. He fought his way toward Y/N, his mind racing with every possible worst-case scenario. This wasn’t just a random attack—this was a carefully orchestrated ambush.

Y/N’s voice reached him, frantic. “Eris!”

But before he could reach her, another figure appeared, cutting off his path.

And then, with a sharp crack of sound, the world around them seemed to twist.

An explosion.

The ground shook beneath their feet, sending them both sprawling to the ground. Smoke and debris filled the air, blocking his vision. He coughed, his eyes stinging from the sudden cloud of dust.

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