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katuschka · 8 days ago

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Olalla Chapter Eleven 1/2

Josh Kiszka x f!OC x Jake Kiszka 4.572 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): descriptions of injury, mentions of blood and stitches, nightmares, secrets and insincerity, fluff, smut, mutual masturbation, rough sex, hair pulling, very light BDSM (sans BD), and as always, an unhealthy dose of heavy emotions and feelings

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Can I believe you? Can I ever know your mind? Am I handing you mine? Do we both confide? I see it, eat through every word I sow See what you need to, do you doubt it's yours? Now I'm learning the ropes never get this close I've been wounded before Hasn't let me go

Agnieszka, December 22nd, 5:30 pm

“It’s nothing, Neszka.”

How I missed the sound of his voice. Sweet and raspy, like crystallized honey. My grandmother used it to hide the bitter taste of cough drops, but I could always feel it on my tongue anyway. She never fooled me. And neither did he…

It didn’t look like nothing, and he didn’t sound like it was nothing. Even though he tried to smile in a vain attempt to fool me. Still, the result was more like a crooked sneer and it certainly didn’t reach his eyes. Despite his weak reassurance, it only kept me worrying, because that’s exactly how he looked, too: worried… There was also something else in his eyes; something that I couldn’t decipher yet. I gently ran my fingertips across the dark bruise right under the stitched gash. The snowflakes in his hair melted down and fell in tiny droplets on his cheeks. I wiped those as well. He closed his eyes in reaction to my touch and his expression softened momentarily, so I dared to speak again.

“Don’t lie, Joshua. This looks days old, you have three stitches, and I’m only just learning about this now?! Who did this to you? And why?”

He opened his eyes again, but didn’t answer and didn’t look at me. Instead, his gaze fell on the malachite pendant that I still wore on a silver chain round my neck, close to my heart. It was a perfect symbol of the kind of love he kept giving me: cleansing, transformative… and toxic. He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw, and I felt his hands slide from my shoulders and down my arms until it was just his fingertips that traced the sharp curves of my elbows. I could barely feel that touch. My questions hung heavy in the air, creating an invisible emotional gap between us, and I couldn’t fully understand why. I hated it, though! This moment wasn’t supposed to be like this. I just wanted to hug him again, while desperately yearning for him to hug me back.

But something was suddenly different.

I had feared it would be like that eventually… that one day he would no longer give me answers. I had nightmares about it. And now he was slipping away just like he had been in those dreams that kept haunting me. Our “affair” had always been more like a dream anyway. My fairytale man, wrapped in satin and adorned with sparkling gems. My other-worldly prince, written by Brothers Grimm. He kept on bleeding and in return it kept me dreading moments yet to come.

“Talk to me,” I whispered, still hoping that it was just me being paranoid again.

And then, out of the blue, he cupped my cheeks and kissed me lightly, the stitches that held his lip together scratching mine. He could have razor blades there and I would not care, because after all those months apart, my baby kissed me again. I shivered, and as if on cue, he ran his finger through my hair, cradling my skull like the finest china. My body felt light. Then he finally spoke.

“We had a fight… me and Jake. But hey! I don’t want you to worry about that. It’s ok. It was nasty, but it’s between the two of us.”

I pulled away from his embrace indignantly. “How can I not worry about that? You both assured me you were ok, and… why? What is it this time? Does he also look like this? Is he outside? I want to tal…”

“Shhh, we’re ok. And no, they already left. We’ll see them tomorrow.”

With that, he grabbed his duffle bag that he had previously dropped on the floor – a clear indication that he wanted me to drop the subject, but I wouldn’t give up so easily. I felt like there was still more of what he was not telling me. We all had completely different plans just a few hours ago, so whatever was going on, it definitely didn’t seem like they were ok. “But the dinner, Joshua…”

I could tell he sensed my growing unease, because he frowned. “Relax, Olalla. It’s just a last-minute change of plans. We’re all awfully tired, and especially Lisa. She’s not used to transatlantic jetlags, and the final drive really took its toll.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Those cute, tiny wrinkles that often appeared around his eyes when he got tired were now more pronounced than ever. He offered me his hand and smiled again, even though it must have been painful, and together we went upstairs.

“You must be hungry, though,” I said when we entered my living room.

“Yeah…a bit, but I’m really craving a hot shower now.” He put his bag down and took off his down jacket and I immediately hugged him from behind, making him huff and grimace over his shoulder at me. “Ugh, no darling, I stink!”

“No, you don’t,” I chuckled and mumbled with my face buried in the soft fabric of his woolen hoodie while he stroked my arms that were firmly wrapped around his chest. He smelled like cozy winter evenings spent by the stove after long, adventurous days; his own musk mixed with a whiff of cinnamon and vanilla and pine wood. I could spend hours just standing there like that, but his stomach suddenly rumbled loudly, making us both cackle again. “But how about you just go take that shower and I’ll run downstairs to prepare us some savory stuffed toasts in the meantime, hm? Maybe even tomato salad?”

“With sour cream and spring onions?” he crooned softly.

“Absolutely.” I whispered in his ear. I loved how he always sounded like a small kid when we talked about food, and I was always ready to give and make him everything he wanted, even if it meant to spend hours in the kitchen. “And then we can pretend to watch tv…”

“Pretending to watch tv with you is my favorite pastime,” he smiled softly with a mischievous glint in his eyes, before his face twisted in pain again as the lip stretched too much. “I’m sorry I can’t kiss you properly.”

And you refuse to tell me why…

I decided not to push it. Instead, I just kissed his cheek and excused myself. There were things I refused to tell him, too…

When I came back from the main kitchen with a tray full of munchies, I found him sprawled across my bed, lying on his stomach and already fast asleep. He was almost naked, safe for one towel still wrapped around his head and another one already just haphazardly draped over his butt. My heart melted at the sight, so delightfully domestic and bohemian at the same time, but the nasty creature living deep inside me wanted me to wallow in unjustified disappointment. I always hated that self-centered bitch that kept poisoning my thoughts. The fact that he was here with me should have been enough… and yet I still felt like it was not.

The feeling came with old questions, ones that I had been trying to disregard ever since they left by the end of September and his sweet kisses and incessant babbling about life having no rules could no longer distract my mind. What now? Am I enough? Does he want me to be his life or just a vacation? Those thoughts had been relatively easy to ignore while I had something to look forward to, and him coming back for Christmas was a chapter yet to be read. I banished and locked those thoughts somewhere at the back of my head, where they kept haunting me at the dead of night, but my days were filled with childish anticipation.

He was finally here, in flesh and blood, and as I watched his back rise and fall peacefully, I could feel the charm slowly evaporate in the air, but I was not yet ready to admit that. Two more weeks, and then what?

Careful not to wake him, gently freed him from those damp towels, before I covered those perfect ass cheeks with a spare blanket from my closet as he was lying on top of mine, looking like an angel that fell too hard. Pale, beaten and once again so awfully thin.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked those damp curls for a while, deliberately avoiding the already barely visible scar that still made my heart skip a beat everytime I saw it, before concluding that it would be best to just let him sleep. I checked the old clock on the wall; it was only 7, but it already felt like midnight.

There was no room for me on that bed. I turned off the light, closed the door carefully and spent the rest of the evening on my couch, eating my toast and trying to keep my mind occupied with my favourite book, which proved nearly impossible. The unshakeable restlessness deep within my chest only made me re-read the same paragraph over and over again, until the words became blurry and the wind on top of the mountain kept turning the pages and my fingers, too numb with cold, could no longer hold the large, leather-bound volume. It slipped from my grasp and fell down the slope, releasing a roaring avalanche that buried the whole town under snow, all because I wanted the story to come true. The sun came up then, burning the remaining debris to a cinder. I watched the destruction from above and I cried and cried, with my eyes fixed on the crimson sky, until I heard those voices calling me again.

Olalla…

Neszka…

VEELA…

“Olalla! Babe! Wake up, honey!”

His real voice finally roused me. I opened my eyes, disoriented, and flinched lightly when I saw Joshua hovering above me, his expression a mixture of tenderness and worry. “What happened?” I croaked, with my throat parched and hurting.

“Well, you tell me. I woke up in the dark, hearing your cries coming from… here.” He crouched down and cupped my wet and puffy face, looking just as confused as I felt. “I’m sorry I fell asleep like that, but what are you doing here? It’s nearly morning. And why the hell are you crying?” Before I could even respond, he looked around hastily and with a strange, alarmed expression on his face, as if searching for something. That startled me too, as all those feelings from my dream still resonated deep within me. I tried to sit up, perhaps too fast, and my vision blurred before everything went dark for a split second and I was only vaguely aware of grabbing at Joshua’s shoulder to steady myself. That brought his attention back to me. “It was just a nightmare,” I breathed out, still hyperventilating, but getting better already.

he frowned and grabbed my hands in his, while studying my face intently. “I figured… but babe! Bad dreams shouldn’t affect you this much! Does this happen often?” My silence only confirmed that they do, and he continued: “What are they about? When did you start having them?”

I couldn’t tell him the truth...

The truth was confusing and scary.

“It’s ok.” I said instead.

“I don’t think it’s ok. You’re shivering. And your hands are awfully cold!”

“And you’re completely naked,” I pointed out the obvious, partly because I saw his dick in its full glory for the first time in months and it seemed almost comical in that particular situation, and partly because it allowed me to change the subject. Successfully, I should add, because he forgot about my shaking hands in an instant…

“Don’t act like you’ve never seen those jewels before,” he retorted playfully, quasi offended by my blunt comment (and stare).

“Oh I’ve seen them before, but they never fail to dazzle me,” I continued to play along. “You are very obviously not cold.” His eyes widened momentarily, but I knew too well that his light-minded ego would always prevail when stroked. Humble and vain at the same time, Joshua loved flattery and admiration, even though it usually made him blush.

And I wished I could speak just from my own experience, but it was rather an acquired knowledge and my very first attempt to use it to my advantage. I couldn’t understand why I suddenly felt so annoyed by the sheer fact that it worked…

“Perfect answer, darling. Ten out of ten,” he would have grinned if he could; instead, I watched his nostrils flare as he tried to keep a straight face. “Now come to bed with me. Lemme share some of that heat with you.” He stood up and offered me his hand to help me on my feet.

“You go ahead, I need to use the bathroom first.” I stroked his shoulder reassuringly with the other hand as I tried to move past him, but he wouldn’t let me go.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

I assured him that I was. I just needed to be alone for a second…

The black of the night turned to blue when I finally climbed into bed, naked and freezing. Cold showers often helped me get the echoes of my nightmares out of my head during waking hours. Joshua couldn’t help me with them and there was no way I could possibly let him… because I couldn’t even tell him. The worst part was that even though I did all I could to avoid thinking about them, they were much more than just echoes from the very start, evolving and transforming over time. Watching his bruised face filled me with complex emotions I could not yet fully comprehend. We were all playing a dangerous game. If anyone asked me at that moment what I really wanted, I’d choke on the response. I didn’t really know. The only thing I knew for sure at that moment was that I needed to feel him close to me. That was all that mattered; that was what caused all the mess in the first place.

Joshua lay sprawled on my bed with familiar ease, like he’d always belonged there. He didn’t stir when I entered the room, seemingly asleep again, and I cursed myself for letting him wait for too long again. I slid under the blanket and tentatively touched the hot skin on his chest. I ran my palm across his ribcage and felt it slowly rise with one long and deliberate intake of breath. “Hey,” he whispered sleepily.

I finally laid my head right next to his and relaxed for a bit, just taking in the serenity of the moment. It felt like we had to rediscover and relearn each other again, but that was ok. My grip on his warm, dry flesh slowly loosened and my fingers slid down onto his belly where I let them rest. “Hi…,” I mumbled back. He turned towards me, pulled me closer, and started nuzzling my neck affectionately.

It always fascinated me how silence changes with light. Every part of the day has its own kind. It could be oppressive and deafening in the middle of the night, only to turn to cotton wool wrapped around your head as the sun came up behind the blanket of thick clouds. Especially when those thick clouds keep on falling from the sky to cover the land with a glimmering white blanket.

It’s also the time when the most intimate moments are shared, because it feels like you have all the time in the world. All the impatience I felt just hours ago was suddenly gone. He dozed off again after a while and I let him. We just lay there next to each other in the muffled silence with our shoulders pressed together and his hand in mine. My mind cleared momentarily and I knew – above everything else – that I truly loved him.

“Kocham cię,” I whispered again, just like I did months ago when we were lying below the starry sky. It wasn’t meant for his ears back then. I told it to the heavens, like a confession. I was now telling it to the spirits that lived in the snow-covered woods.

“You said this before. What does it mean?”

His low voice startled me, making me flinch. I turned my head quickly towards him, only to see his open eyes staring back at me with an amiable curiosity. They looked almost black in the dim morning light. “I.. I did, but I thought you were sleeping, and… you remember?”

“It took me more than a week to recollect everything that happened prior to the fall, but yes, I remember. A lot of it felt more like a dream though, covered with this strange haze an’all, and I often thought that maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. But you said that, didn’t you. It was real...”

“I did…,” I breathed out croakily. “Yes, it was real.”

“So, what does it mean, babe?”

“Oh Joshua…” I started crying and immediately cursed myself for it. I had told him that I loved him a few times before, so this shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, but I felt overwhelmed anyway. His brows furrowed with worry and alarm, and he cupped my cheeks tenderly.

“Hey, babe, what’s going on? Did I say something wrong? Or… is it bad?”

“No, it’s not bad. It means I love you and I said that when I was certain and in peace with the fact that you never would. And you weren’t supposed to hear it. Or understand… I’m sorry. This is stupid. And I keep acting like an idiot! Why am I always like this?” I sniffed and took a deep breath, struggling to calm down while he kept on scrutinizing my face with concern still etched on his.

“But I do! I do love you. That’s why I’m here, Neszka. You know that, right?” He snuggled up to me and pulled me even closer, pressing his naked chest to mine. “And you’re not an idiot. If anything, I think I behaved like one last night. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m…”

“Shhh… No more talkin’,” he whispered in my ear with his lips almost touching my earlobe and the deliberate slow and warm exhale that followed gave me goosebumps all over my body. The mood shifted immediately and I became acutely aware of the rhythm of his heartbeat. I could feel it quicken in response to my shaky moan when he ran his hand through the hair at the nape of my neck. “I really wish I could kiss you now,” he whispered against my shoulder, sounding a bit crestfallen, so I nipped the right corner of his mouth and then continued to cover his cheek with featherlight pecks before I looked into his eyes again.

“You can do myriads of other things. But no more talking,” I teased.

“Right!” Joshua almost growled and deliberately tugged at the fistful of my hair, making me shiver again, before he let go and let his hand travel down, his fingers brushing against my hardened nipple. “Are you cold again?” he teased.

I did not respond to that. At least not verbally. I just arched my by back and let his wandering hand reclaim my body: starting with my chin, then wrapping his long fingers around my neck, and sliding further down through the valley between my tits, across the plains of my spasming belly until he reached the damp crevice between my legs and cursed when he felt me weep all over his fingertips. “Fuck! That’s hot.”

“Yeah, so you see, I’m not cold.” It was time to reciprocate and I took a similar path. I ran my middle finger down his spine, making him gasp when I didn’t stop where it ended, digging my fingernails into the soft meat around and pulling him closer to me. He was rock hard and pulsating against the flesh of my hip and my heart fluttered with relief.

I snaked the other hand between us, wrapped my fingers around him and started pumping him slowly, making him hiss and moan. In response, he slid two fingers deep inside me and followed my rhythm.

It was slow and lazy and overwhelmingly intimate and I watched him watching me. There was no more talking, but we continued to speak without words, searching for hidden thoughts behind each other’s eyes. After a while, I couldn’t take it any longer and I whispered “more” and he nodded. We let go of each other and he motioned to me to turn around.

It was just like the first time, when he buried his face in my hair the same way he buried his dick inside me, and I was close to losing my mind when he bottomed out and shivered and moaned loudly right into my ear. I reached behind and grabbed him by the nape of his neck, keeping him in place. He was going to sing just for me this time, I’d make sure of it.

We remained still for a few seconds with our limbs intertwined and I relished in the way he whimpered when I clenched around him. He then moved languidly a few times, hitting my g-spot just right with each stroke with his palm pressing down on my underbelly as if he was trying to feel himself becoming part of me. Claiming me, invading me. It was sexy, but I was far from satisfied. I needed him to obliterate the contents of my head. Violently, if need be.

“Joshua…,” I panted in between moans.

“Mmm-hm?”

“Fuck my brains out baby, please…”

I heard him exhale with a hiss through his teeth and nose before he pulled out and turned me on my stomach in one swift motion. I whimpered into the pillow in anticipation and gasped a second later when he spread my legs apart with his knees and ran his fingers through my slit, almost possessively. “Ass up,” he demanded hoarsely, and I happily obeyed.

The teasing bastard kept me waiting then, running his palm up and down my back before he smacked my ass with unforeseen force. “Ye-es,” I breathed out shakily.

“Yes? Like this?”

“Please…” I needed him to destroy me, to punish me for thoughts he didn’t even know I had; thoughts that always came unwittingly and involuntarily and that once again made me hate myself and question everything I had known about myself or love.

Because I loved him. I loved him even more than I had ever loved Dominik and that was the reason why I couldn’t stop participating in this madness.

It was a mad kind of love. So let us be mad…

And he was. Whether it was his own secrets and frustrations seeping through, or just his desire to give me what I wanted, I welcomed it all. I needed to feel the power and I knew he had it in him. I had experienced it before, just like the extreme tenderness that felt mostly undeserved. I needed to be scorched by his inner fire because I knew I deserved it.

Joshua entered me roughly this time and pulled my mind back into the cool, light blue reality of my room. And then he pulled my hair and I cried out, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of maddening arousal and the feeling of deep satisfaction that came with it.

He forced me up onto my elbows and then set up a pace that quickly knocked me back on my pillow, so he pulled my arms behind my back and pressed my wrists together above the small of my back. I could hardly move, completely at his mercy as he kept on destroying my cervix until my thighs started to shake violently.

We were loud. Or god, we were so loud, and I should have felt shame, because the house certainly isn’t soundproof.

But it only served as a testimony that I belonged to him and he was mine and the rest of the world be damned.

It seemed to disappear anyway. My brain short circuited and I was able to register just a few sensory perceptions.

The dull ache in my upper arms.

His sweat dripping on me from above.

His high-pitched moans and his heavy breath.

His fingernails digging into the sensitive soft skin of my wrists and lower back.

The increasingly pleasant feeling deep inside my pussy, until it became almost unbearable and cold shivers ran up my spine.

I whined, with my whole being hovering somewhere between pleasure and pain, and he let go of my hands. I pulled them up and grabbed the pillow, trying to ignore the sharp pain shooting through my shoulders. He bent down and pressed his cold, damp flesh on my back, while whispering in my ear: “Are you ok?”

I was more than ok. He didn’t slow down, he just let his tender side cover me like a comfort blanket momentarily and at that moment I completely lost it. My whole body stiffened and I cried out as the waves of pleasure washed over me, one after another…and another…and another.

He came shortly after me. His thrusts became more and more erratic until he suddenly stopped – shivering – and let out a ragged breath. One more sharp intake of breath and then thrusted forcefully into me for one last time and spilled his seed inside me with a high pitched wail. He remained hovering above me for a few more seconds with his forehead pressed in between my shoulder blades. I think I was holding my own breath the whole time.

Then he collapsed next to me, looking content and completely spent.

I wished I could have stayed in bed with him until midday or even longer. We cuddled for a bit afterwards, but I had my responsibilities in the kitchen, so after a while I reluctantly climbed out of bed, took a quick shower, made myself some coffee and got dressed. When I checked on him to ask what he wanted for breakfast, I saw he had fallen asleep again, looking relaxed and peaceful.

With a heavy heart, but knowing he was ok, I left him there by himself again and went down, because it was already half past eight.

At around 9:30, my phone chimed. At first I thought it was Joshua, still too lazy to get out of bed. I opened the message with a smile, but it only made my heart skip a beat.

Kuba Starlight: Are you still in bed?

I was peering at the screen for several seconds in disbelief, trying to make sense of it, before I typed a quick answer.

Veela: Hello to you, too!:/ I mean…huh? And no, I’m already up.

He responded almost immediately.

Kuba Starlight: Is he?

Veela: Jake, WTF?! Veela: No. He’s still in bed… AND we need to talk, BTW.

I expected him to type another weird response right away, but he didn’t, so I put the phone down and went back to making perogies. Ten minutes later, I nearly screamed when I saw him standing in the kitchen doorway, his silhouette half obscured by the dim hall behind him.

“JESUS CHRIST! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Sweet of you to think so highly of me,” he chuckled. “But I’m still just Jake.”

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @kiszkas-canvas @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @hollyco @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @blankvz @psychedelectable @allof--mylove

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gladiatorcunt · 1 year ago

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RASPBERRY - CORIOLANUS SNOW

summary: the apparent end of an era

cw: implication of infant death, canon typical violence and canon major character death (if that’s how you read it), unnecessary oc children (mention of pregnancy), reader’s in lucy grays place (chosen to be in the games and etc. not as a substitute for coryo) but if she went back to capitol with him, old man snow loses his marbles, open to interpretation ending, canon typical district citizens slander (and katniss slander but it’s snow’s pov), og timeline reader in this story died in between thg and catching fire, treating this as dark content due to vagueness regarding how willing the reader is

wc: 1.3k

requests are open (read the rules first <3)

block & move on if uncomfortable

do not repost or translate!!

“Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me.”

- Work Song // Hozier

Caecilia Snow can hardly stomach what she is about to witness. Her oldest sister, Iovita, stands stoned faced behind her. One of her svelte hands clasped around her left shoulder. A mask, she’s sure. Vita always did have troubles with expressing her emotions. The middle sister, Agrippina, is a complicated mix of both. Her hand is warmer on Caecilia’s right shoulder, but the blisters make it uncomfortable. Cato, the steadfast and tough oldest son, does not look at all. One can only wonder how he felt about that tribute from two, poor souls. Little Ignacius (she will always see him as such even though he's grown a head taller than her) brow is furrowed so terribly, she fears it might get stuck.

And strange Silvanus, the second son, he isn’t even on the balcony with his beloved siblings. Perhaps he is lost in his thoughts again. He wonders now if when his father smells the wood of the gallows, he thinks of a forest out in twelve that he haunted decades ago. The handkercheif he uses to hastily wipe his tears before he can gather the courage to join his family possess drops of blood every time he pulls it away. From his nose or drug up from his lungs, who can say? The wall outside the library his father had made especially for their mother on their wedding anniversary takes several blows from his aching clenched fist. So much blood, like father like son. Silvanus feels comforted by the persistent thought.

Ignacius eyes his brother with open concern as he saunters into view beside him. He barely manages to hide his wobble and his rush to stuff a stained cloth into his pocket does nothing to ease Ignacius’s worries. Silvanus has been one of the more sensitive ones in their parade, though that has never meant that he has not fought for his family. It is because of that that when Silvanus relents to the beseeching stare of his younger brother, Ignacius nods with utmost determination. The second son softens minutely and eventually returns it.

“Snow lands on top.” Six voices whisper in chorus.

Somewhere in an alabaster mausoleum, resides an ornate urn containing what would have been a seventh voice.

At the end of it all, President Coriolanus Snow smiles and he laughs with his entire chest like you’ve told him your funniest joke. Blood pours from his mouth like hot wax. His forked tongue doggy paddles in the little sea of crimson. A weathered hand with hard to spot cracks in the skin and light purple spots clasps itself firmly around the rose pinned to his suit. The wind seems to circle around Coriolanus Snow and he heaves a hearty chuckle when it ruffles through his hair. You’re with him even now as the foundations of your dynasty crumble and scatter over a stormy cliffside. A most welcomed and yearned for torment. His dearest specter.

Finally.

It seems even a Mockingjay’s tiny brain can manage.

It brings to mind the memory of another unfortunate like her. An Angel of Death from 11, tall and hunkered over. A flag being ripped from its rightful place and being pulled over rotting corpses. They were laid so closely together, they might as well have been a pack of sardines. There was ample meaning in his rustic burial, and there were snakes that suffocated it in their multicolored den. A precious rainbow after a great flood.

He’s not the only boy she reminds him of, but he’s unable to recall the second one’s name. A ghost that hovers on the edge of his mind.

Nevermind how useless her brief moment of assumed triumph will be. The games may be locked in a box in the minds of Panem and shoved away so they can be blissfully ignorant, but there will always be those in favor of them. What they represent will remain just as their purpose will prove itself once again when the people are governed by the rabid cannibals that ate them. Dogs can’t be trusted to be left to their own devices and off their leashes. Such deranged creatures were far better suited for being submerged in the violence of their own making.

Panem today. Panem tomorrow. Panem forever.

The soft dulcet tones of silenced voices ring out, something he once knew about a man who murdered three. The white fog fades away and Coriolanus wakes with a muffled shout to find himself in a raggedy bunk in an all too familiar building. his hands tremble but they look no different. with a disbelieving laugh he realizes that nothing has changed yet, that he has been rewarded for decades of dedication and devotion to Panem. That his herculean task others once thought of as sisyphean had been irrevocably realized.

3 daughters, 3 sons. Countless grandchildren. A legacy that will no doubt be remembered no matter the connotations associated with it.

Coryo’s heart is thundering like it did back then on that fateful day, and it does not slow by the time he’s shoved his things into a sack and hidden in the back of a truck. He could sway from the dizziness of deja vu. The truck soon comes to a stop and he clamors out of it, jumping out and racing however many yards he has to until he can spot his heart doing a terrible job of hiding behind a pillar. Anyone with a working set of eyes could discern the scarlet edges of your skirt swishing from side to side. They would have an unchallenging time seeing you suppress the urge to pick at the skin around your nails.

For the first time in over a year, Coriolanus Snow is utterly consumed by the urge to burst into tears. His beautiful beautiful dryad. The blood red dress he had ran himself ragged to buy clung to you like a lover as you twirled around nervously looking for him. Never in his life had a decision been so easy, so with a grateful chuckle and an embarrassingly giddy grin he bounds over to you. The light splintered through the trees nearby, the way it raked through your eyes and made them sparkle brought him fantastic grief. To him, they have never once lost that illustrious shine.

“I thought you’d never show up, Coryo. I was startin’ to worry a bit.”

Your hand feels like a delicious brand when it slips into his, impossibly soft and his cock throbs in his pants at the countless memories it elicits. In an apparent recreation of Pygmalion gazing upon the stone turned flesh form of Galatea, his love spills from him like a reopened wound. his Aphrodite on earth, his goddess with a never-ending number of rose petals in her hair.

“Not even a bullet in my back could keep me from you, dove.”

A garter snake slithers by between the two of you and before you can notice, Coryo swiftly crushes its head under the heel of his boot. The forest is blessedly silent. His world is kept from cleaving in two by the invisible string you’ve looped around his neck.

The putrid smell of the woods around you forces you to attempt to hide yourself gagging behind your hand. His lips twitch but he suppresses the urge to smile in that smug but infuriatingly hot way he knows you secretly love.

You’d better make quick work of getting over the mountains, you’re pregnant after all.

a/n: I’m sick and on bed rest (the cold is kicking my immune system’s ass) so wip progress has stopped but I had this in the drafts. call me Suzanne Collins because I tried with the naming symbolism. Please reblog if you liked it and yell at me about him if you want <3

#dividers by pommecita cafekitsune and firefly-graphics #this is more experimental but #coriolanus snow x reader #dark fic #⚰️.deaddove #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #tbosas #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #x reader #x you #tw dark content

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smoooothoperator · 2 months ago

Text

Die With A Smile

05: Golden

Bucky Barnes x mutant!OC (Astrid Rowan)

HYDRA victims, found family, "strangers" to lovers, emotional scars, first love

Masterlist

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water

The days blurred together in a way I hadn’t expected.

I had no explanation for it, but it felt like my days began and ended with him. The connection between us was undeniable, as if our souls were linked together in a way that couldn’t be explained by logic.

Every morning, I make my way to the small house by the water where Bucky rested. The village children would call out as I passed through, and sometimes, I stopped to give them small gifts Shuri sent with me: toys for them, bright fabrics for the women and treats I picked up in the market before heading there.

Once I arrived at the small house made of stone, I stepped inside and checked on him, as if something might have changed overnight. But he was always the same: his chest raised up and down with every breath he took, his eyes still closed without any sign of opening soon.

I always sit by his side and hold his hand, feeling the warmth in his skin, that tiny reassurance that he was still alive.

The mornings often stretched into hours of silence. At the start, it felt almost heavy, making me feel anxious and uncomfortable. But I started taking Okoye’s advice, using that time to ground myself.

I sit outside by the lake and close my eyes, letting the warmth of the sun on my face ease away my worries. I focus on my breathing, reaching deep within, searching for the roots of the power that seemed to flicker just beneath my skin, waiting for the moment to finally come alive.

And mixed in that deep sea of power, I could feel the connection between me and Bucky, like a thin thread. It was quiet, soft, and yet alive, tickling my whole body whenever I tried to reach that thread.

Today, the water before me shimmered, reflecting the light of the sunrise. I sat on the edge of the dock, with my legs folded beneath me and the palms of my hands resting on my knees. My eyes were closed as I felt the sun’s rays warm on my skin, and the world around me felt distant, like I was stepping somewhere far away from this place, making me go deep into it.

Then, the whisper of laughter pulled me back to the surface. I opened my eyes, turning to see a small group of the village children standing a few feet away, watching me with those wide, curious eyes.

“Hi” I smiled, waving my hand slowly.

One of the girls stepped forward, her dark hair bouncing in tiny braids that framed her face.

“Miss Astrid” she said shyly, making me smile and nod. “Your hair… It's like the sun!”

I blinked, a little taken aback by the compliment, but they only nodded in agreement. Another child, a little boy, took a step to the front, looking at me with a wide smile.

“Yes! It’s so pretty! Like... like a golden light” his small fingers reached up as if to touch, but then he hesitated, lowering his hand bashfully. "You are like a lion! With golden hair"

Their adoration made me laugh softly. All my life, my hair has been something simple. The people from HYDRA always ordered me to tie it, making sure it wouldn't disturb me whenever I fought. But to these kids, it was something they admired.

“Can we… Can we make braids on it?” the little girl asked, her expression hopeful and bright. “I know how. My mama taught me.”

It took me a moment to process her words, but when I did, a gentle warmth filled my chest. I hadn’t expected them to want to come that close to me. Ever since part of my past had returned in fractured pieces, I felt like a stranger to myself. Part of me was worried that the kids could sense the shadows from my past, that they could see me the way I sometimes felt I truly was.

But here they are, looking at me like I was someone worthy of their time, of their trust.

Swallowing the lump that had risen in my throat, I gave them a small nod, watching how the smiles of their faces got wider, clapping excitedly and coming closer to me.

“Of course” I said, my voice soft with gratitude. “I would love that.”

They giggled, each one of them surrounding me without disturbing my meditation, sitting on the ground next to me. Gently, they began weaving small braids into my hair. I could feel their tiny fingers tugging at strands, braiding them with skill and care, and I let them do it while my focus drifted back to the previous state of peace.

I let myself sink into the quiet again, my eyes closed as I tried to clear my thoughts. The world around me faded to a soft hum and I could hear more clearly everything that surrounded me: the sound of the wind through the trees, the hypnotic dance of the waves of the water hitting against the shore, the birds and animals that live around us; and I let it guide me as I reached for that space inside myself, the one where everything used to be a storm and now looks like a peaceful sea.

And, beneath all of it, I felt something else, something deeper. It was as if I was in tune with the earth itself, with the water, with something older, deeper than I had ever understood.

I didn’t try to force it, just let it happen, flow through me and hit me like a welcoming hug.

My hands moved from my lap, now with both palms looking at the water, and with each breath, I felt the presence of it responding to me. I took a long breath, feeling a soft tingling sensation through my hands, and I allowed the connection to flow through me, imagining the lake’s coolness moving with my breath. The tingling grew stronger, and suddenly, I felt the energy of the water curling between my fingers.

I opened my eyes, and there it was: a thin stream of water, floating and swirling softly just above my palms. I barely breathed, not wanting to break the delicate thread of connection. The children paused in their work, their hands stilling in my hair as they watched in awe.

I didn’t stop. The water moved, wrapping itself around my arm like an extension of me. I felt any resilience, no effort in it. It was as if the water and I had come to an understanding, a quiet agreement. It moved as I willed it, curling and twisting with the softest of movements.

“You did it!” one of the girls whispered, awe in her voice. “Miss Astrid, you moved the water!”

The children reached out their hands, laughing as they tried to touch the floating water, their fingers brushing against it, and tiny droplets splashed over them, making them giggle even more. I guided the water to spiral around them, feeling it respond to my intention, moving like a gentle stream wrapping us all in its embrace.

fire

The night air was cool as I made my way back to the small house near the lake to be with him some minutes before going back to the place. The stars blinked above my head, their light shining across the dark sky like tiny diamonds.

I had spent the day practicing my control over the water, drawing strength from the gentle rhythm of the lake. It felt like progress, but it also left me drained, both physically and emotionally, making me feel incredibly tired and weak.

The village was alive with a soft hum of voices and laughter as I neared to go to Bucky’s house, the kind of warmth that came with the community. I expected to walk past unnoticed, as I usually did every night at this hour, but instead, I found a small group of villagers standing just beyond the central bonfire. Their faces lit up when they saw me.

“Astrid!” one of the women called, her voice warm and inviting. “Join us tonight. It’s not good to spend all your time alone.”

I blinked, shocked by her kindness. The idea of sitting down with so many people, of being welcomed into their circle, was as foreign to me as my powers had been just weeks ago. But before I could think of an excuse, the children ran towards me, grabbing my hands and pushing me toward the bonfire with relentless enthusiasm.

“Come, Astrid! You can’t say no,” one of them said, smiling ear to ear.

I gave in with a soft smile, letting them lead me. The bonfire’s warm light flickered across their eager faces as they pulled me to a seat on the ground near the fire, handing me a wooden plate piled high with food. I hesitated, my fingers tracing the edges of the plate, but their excitement was contagious. It had been so long since anyone had offered me such a simple act of kindness.

“Thank you” I murmured, looking up at the circle of faces around me.

The meal began with chatter and laughter, their stories spilling out in an easy rhythm, weaving between bites of food and sips of a sweet dizzy drink they insisted I had to try. I listened more than I spoke, their warmth filling the spaces I have been too afraid to acknowledge in myself.

It wasn’t long before the children started their antics again. One of the boys leaned forward, his eyes shining with curiosity and excitement.

“Miss Astrid” he said, his voice full of awe. “Make the fire dance, please”

“T-The fire?” I asked, caught off guard.

“Yes!” another exclaimed, bouncing on her knees. “We’ve seen you make the water dance, and Shuri told us you can control fire too!”

The others nodded eagerly, their faces alight with anticipation. I hesitated, glancing toward the adults, but they only smiled and nodded softly, some of them nudging the children playfully. It was clear that Shuri was involved in this too, and somehow I felt so grateful for that.

“I…” I mumbled, looking down at my hands.

Fire had always been the most aggressive part of me, a force that burned as much as it warmed. I was hesitant to practice, afraid of losing control and making damage impossible to reverse. And now that I don’t have the control HYDRA had over me, it wasn’t as easy as it was before.

But their faces were so full of hope, so full of encouragement. I felt something different in me, a need to try, to be the person they saw and believed I was. I set my plate aside and shifted to sit closer to the fire, the warmth licking against my skin like an old, wild friend.

“Alright” I said softly. “I’ll try.”

I looked down at my hands. They were steady now, but I remembered how they used to tremble with the power of it, with the loss of control. The fire had been the most violent part of me, and it had felt like an extension of my anger, my fear, my pain. I wasn’t that person anymore.

But maybe that was the point.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, trying to find the calm I discovered in the water. My breath filled my lungs, slow and deep, and I exhaled, releasing the weight of my fear.

The heat tickled my palms as I lifted my hands. Memories surged, flashes of flames consuming everything in their path, the rush of power that had once felt intoxicating and terrible. My fingers flexed involuntarily, and for a moment, the fire in front of me flared as if answering my call.

My heart raced. It felt wild, feral, like it could slip from my grasp and burn everything around me. Panic rose, old and familiar.

What if I couldn’t control it? What if I hurt someone? What if the fire consumed me as it had before? What if I burn this village?

I opened my eyes, focusing on the flames. They danced nervously, pulsing in response to my wavering emotions. Slowly, I steadied my breath, forcing myself to meet the fire’s energy with calm, not fear.

“It’s not anger” one of the kids that were close to me whispered, barely audible over the crackle.

I smiled weakly and softened my focus, letting the flames flow towards me. At first, it was hesitant, like a wild creature testing my intentions. Then it grew fearless, stretching out in a golden string that moved around my fingers. The heat was no longer biting or painful, it was warm, almost like a hug.

It wasn’t wild anymore. It wasn’t chaos. It was a dance indeed, and I was its partner.

The children gasped as the fire moved around my hands, spiraling up my arms in ribbons of golden light. I lifted my hands, and the flames followed, twisting and spinning like threads of molten gold. They didn’t feel wild or dangerous anymore. They felt alive, responsive, waiting for my command.

I moved my fingers, and the fire danced. It moved through the air, casting shifting shadows over the villager’s faces. The children clapped and cheered, their excitement breaking through the quiet concentration that had filled me. I smiled to myself, sensing how light the fire felt now, how it moved in harmony with me.

For the first time, I wasn’t afraid of it.

heal

The morning sunlight streamed softly through the curtains of the small house by the lake, warming the wooden floor beneath me. I sat on the floor in the center of the room, with my hands resting on my knees as I focused on my breathing. Each inhale brought calm, and each exhale allowed me to sink deeper into the sea of power, feeling closer to the elements I began to connect with.

Water vibrated gently in the bowl beside me, reflecting the soft light of the sun in rippling patterns. Fire flickered in a controlled, steady flame atop a small lantern.

This place has become my sanctuary. It was quiet here, away from the joyful life of the village. Only the steady rhythm of the lake and the chirping of the birds made me company as I meditated. And then there was him. Bucky.

I looked over the bed where he was laying, watching how his chest moved with the deep breaths he took. I wonder if he knows that I am here, that I am safe from HYDRA. Does he have the same dreams I have, remembering our missions when we were trapped?

Suddenly, a sharp scream broke the calm.

I stood up immediately, my heart pounding as the distant cries of children reached my ears. Without hesitation, I pushed open the door and stepped outside, searching with my eyes where that scream came from. A small group of children were near the trees at the edge of the lake.

“Help! Miss Astrid, please!” one of the boys yelled, waving his arms toward me.

I ran toward them, my bare feet kicking up soft earth and fallen leaves. When I reached the group, my gaze fell on Zola, one of the girls that likes to braid my hair, sitting on the ground with tears streaming down her face, looking at her dirty hands that had small cuts and at her knees covered in blood.

“What happened?” I asked, kneeling in front of her, looking at her friends.

“She fell” one of the older boys explained, his face pale with worry. “We were climbing, and she slipped.”

The wounds weren't deep,just small cuts over her hands and her knees, and the sight of it was enough to make the other children panic. I swallowed thickly and placed a gentle hand on her arm, squeezing it softly.

“It’s going to be okay” I said softly, meeting her wide, tearful eyes. “I’ll help you.”

The lake was only a few steps away, and my connection to it had grown stronger over the past weeks. I stretched out a hand toward the shore, and with a flick of my wrist, a stream of water rose from its surface, flowing toward me in a graceful stream.

The children gasped, their fear momentarily replaced by awe as I guided the water above the Zola’s wounds. Slowly, I let it move over the injury, washing away the blood and revealing the raw edges of the cuts beneath.

Then, something shifted.

As my hands moved over the wound, a warmth spread through my palms, different from the heat of fire. The water glowed faintly with a pale blue light as it settled over her knees and palms. Zola gasped, her sobs fading into quiet sniffles as the light pulsed gently.

I felt it then: a pull deep in me, an instinct I hadn’t known I possessed. My hands moved without thought, guiding the water as it began to knit the torn skin together. The glow intensified for a moment before fading, leaving behind smooth, unbroken skin where the cuts were.

The children stared in stunned silence, their mouths agape. Zola blinked down at her knees and palms, then back up at me.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore” she whispered, her voice filled with wonder.

Relief and amazement washed over me in equal measure. I healed her. Somehow, the water had become more than a tool.

“Thank you, Miss Astrid” all of the kids said, hugging me tightly before running away with giggles.

My hands trembled as I stood, my mind racing with possibilities. If I healed her, maybe I could heal him.

I turned and sprinted back towards the house, the children’s voices fading behind me. When I entered, I moved straight to his bed, his form still and quiet as ever. My chest tightened as I approached, the memory of his voice from my dreams echoing in my mind.

You know how to fix me. I’m ready.

Kneeling beside him, I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath my fingers. I closed my eyes and let the stillness take over, searching for that same warmth I felt by the lake. The water from the bowl on the floor came to me, responding to my call, but this time it didn’t flow. It floated, glowing faintly as I guided it toward him.

“Come back” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Please.”

The water pulsed, its light growing stronger as it floated on his chest. I focused all my energy on the connection between us, on that thread that had tied us together even when our memories had been torn apart. Minutes passed, and sweat beaded on my brow, but still, he didn’t move.

“Wake up, soldat” I begged, my voice breaking from the tiredness. “Come on”

For a moment, nothing happened. My heart sank, doubt creeping in. But then, his chest rose sharply, and his body jerked as he gasped for air. His eyes flew open, wide and wild, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, they met mine.

Blue eyes meeting blue eyes.

“Soldat?”I whispered. “B-Bucky?”

His gaze softened, confusion giving way to recognition.

“Aetheris?”

taglist

@alltoomaples @jadeofspadesxp @leptitlu @deliciousfestsalad @mendes-bae

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thefallennightmare · 10 months ago

Text

Mercy-Four

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Fallen Angel!OC

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, smut, mythological talk, violence.

Summary: "Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low" It came crashing down on him. This is the story of the highest banished angel from where she came only to find home in the arms of a mortal man. This mortal realizing he'd face Lucifer himself to keep her.

Lethia: Archangelus Oneironaut also known as Archangel of Dream Walking. Across worlds and dimensions, she walks within. Uncovering dangerous secrets, leaving her cast out, isolated- that is until she begins to learn what it means to feel.

Authors Notes: So I pulled a lot of ideas from my favorite fallen angel romance series, Hush Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick! I hope you all enjoy!

Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @cookiesupplier @lyschko666 @shilohrosechicken @thebadchic @iknownothingpeople @sammyjoeee @malice-ov-mercy @collapsedglasshouses @klutzy-kay24 @iamamatus @lma1986 @bngurngheart @happi-goth

LETHIA

I sat in the middle of Noah’s bed with my knees pulled to my chest and rested my chin on top of them. My mind continued to replay the conversation with Maraxa and her parting words had been etched deep within my soul. I feared that maybe I brought darkness and death to not only Noah but all of his friends' lives. They were innocent bystanders in the battle for my alliance. Stay on this Earth with mortals or fall into the depths of Hell with the light bringer.

Lucifer. He wanted me alongside him to lead his army of darkness. Against what? I wasn’t sure. But the love we shared wasn’t what it used to be and my heart didn't covet for him any longer. Not when there was someone else who seemed to have filtered into this newfound life without warning.

Those almond eyes captivated me from the moment I had Noah pinned against the door. His scent was different from most mortals and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why. The way we always seemed to run into each other or that anytime I dream walked, it was his dream.

Why was it Noah’s face I saw moments before my fall?

Why did we have the same tattoo? His on his neck, mine on my ribs?

None of this made any sense and it only angered me more as to why I was stuck here.

As I was staring at the length of my black nails, there was a gentle knock on the door of the bedroom; me humming in response to it. When it opened slightly, Noah poked his head in, the long strands of his hair falling into his face.

“Hey,” his voice was gentle. “I’m just checking to see if you’re settling in fine.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “I’m sorry for having Maraxa show up here. I assure you, it won’t happen again.”

You don’t know that.

Noah leaned against the wall next to the door, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s alright. Is she an old friend?”

I scoffed while laying my legs straight on the bed to lean my back against the wall.

“She is far from a friend. More like an acquaintance that always wanted my position.”

If he could hear the venom in my voice, Noah said nothing and simply nodded.

“Are you hungry?” He asked instead.

“I’m fine, thank you,” I ran a hand over the black comforter. “I must say, I do feel terrible making you sleep on the couch when your bed is quite comfortable.”

“Seriously?” Noah chuckled while walking farther into the room to sit on the bed next to me. “I’ve had this mattress for years and it's anything but comfortable.”

An eerie silence fell between us, something that made me shift in my spot next to him when the warmth from him radiated around me in flames. I could feel his essence all over my skin while not feeling his actual touch. Bumps rose at the back of my neck when I felt his gaze linger there, lighting me a blaze.

My eyes caught sight of something hanging from above his window so I pointed to it.

“Are you religious? The rosary?”

Noah peered up at the wooden necklace hanging from his curtain rod. “Oh, that. It’s kind of a long story.”

Crossing my legs, I rested my elbow on my thigh to rest my chin in my hand. “And I have time. I’d love to know your view on it.”

With a tender laugh, he nodded before turning toward me so we sat facing each other. “Well, I was raised in a very Christian Baptist household with my grandparents; when I wasn’t staying with my mom. That's another story but it’s not important.”

Immediately I picked up on the way his eyes cast down at his hands at the mention of his mother but made no effort to acknowledge it. Instead, I urged him to continue with a nod.

“I’d go to service with my grandparents and help out in the church any way I could. Painting, setting up for service, things like that. I was exposed to a lot of religion growing even though when I was younger I didn’t buy into it as much. Despite having a lot of questions and doubts about it now, I still think there’s a lot to learn about it through religion, spirituality, and faith. Which is why I write about it metaphorically.”

He ran a hand over his chin for a moment. “I never try to push my own beliefs or agendas on people. I want people to think and believe in things on their own, without having my choice influence them in any way.”

“I think that’s marvelous,” I hummed.

Noah smiled. “The whole lore and stories in religion really interest me. I’m currently reading a book about The Fall.”

My mouth ran dry when my body went rigid. “Th-the Fall?”

“Yeah, fallen angels. It’s actually quite interesting.”

I ran my hands over my thigh and cleared my throat. “Do you believe in them?”

“Angels?” Noah asked with furrowed brows.

All I could do was nod, afraid that my voice would give way to how nervous I was for his answer.

He ran a hand over his mouth, almost deep in thought. “It’s hard to give a definitive answer because I haven’t seen proof of angels. I thought that angels didn’t exist at first but something changed my view on it. My grandma told me a story about fallen angels when I was younger. What about you? Do you believe it?”

“You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen,” the tone of my voice dropped drastically as my fingers brushed along the softness of the comforter beneath me.

Flash images of what I’d done under the King’s command plagued me. Death by my sword was ordered to anyone who disobeyed him. Which rarely happened but when it did, I was the one that dealt with the end of the traitor's life. The familiar feeling of ripping out their wings weighed heavy on my hands as I stared down at them with sheer disgust.

How could the creator who was supposed to love all of us equally order me to do such vile, horrendous, things to his creations?

“Lethia,” the softness of his large hands rested on my shoulder, fresh off a kill. “You’ve done well my child. Your allegiance is greatly thought of.”

My jaw clenched at how foolish I’d been. Following a King who cared so little for us in the end. The amount of wings I ripped out was too much to count. The amount of angels I dragged my blade into cut deep into my gut, causing me to revolt in disgust.

At myself.

Since I fell weeks ago, I questioned so deeply why my appearance changed and I always thought it was because of my love for Lucifer. But it could be to pay for all of my heinous crimes up in the Kingdom. Crimes ordered by Him.

“Hey,” Noah’s tattooed knuckle lifted my chin. “Are you alright?”

I nearly sobbed when yet again I couldn’t feel his touch; another repercussion.

“No,” I choked out. “I did horrible things back home and how could I ever be allowed back? Why would he want me back?”

The screams of my victims were loud in my mind, their bloody wings lying at my feet, and I squeezed my eyes shut at the vision.

“You don’t have to go back there. You can stay here with me. Whatever you did can’t be that terrible,” his voice cooed in the silence of his bedroom.

The words died on my tongue, it not being worth it to explain myself to him because Noah wouldn’t understand.

My heart's racing faltered for the briefest of moments, only for it to double in pace when Noah’s eyes studied me, assessing every inch of my face. I tracked every movement of his tongue when it darted out to wet his pink lips.

“Lethia.”

My name was all but a hushed whisper that hung on his bottom lip and when our eyes met, some kind of light danced behind his. I raised my fingers to his mouth to drag the nail of my pointer finger along that bottom lip. Noah’s breath hitched in his throat but remained still as I glanced up at him, dying to know what it would feel like. Facial hair peppered his chin and above his mouth, and I couldn’t help but smile at how good he looked.

There was no way he wasn't like me. Noah was too eternal, the aura that radiated around him shone bright and pulled me in every time he was around.

The long locks of his hair fell into his face when he tilted his head towards me, closing the distance slightly. The divine scent of him filled my senses and I let my eyes flutter shut to pick apart each of the different smells. Noah smelled woodsy with a hint of Bergamot and Nutmeg. It smelled like his bedroom. It smelled like him.

“Noah,” I breathed, now dragging my nails over the tattoo on his neck.

I couldn't feel his touch but I did notice my hair being brushed away from my face.

“I can’t explain it,” Noah swallowed. “But I feel this strong connection to you.”

All of my actions were unknown to me, along with this feeling in my chest that burned with such a good ache. Noah silenced all of the voices in my mind, easing away the guilt and hurt that weighed heavily on my heart for my actions in the Kingdom. I was resistant at first with him but I think it was only because this feeling deep inside of me scared me to the ends of the earth.

“Me as well,” I admitted quietly.

My hands rested in my lap now, shaking with nerves, wondering what Noah was going to do. We were so close now, with almost no space between our lips, and before my brain could catch up on what was happening a sudden surge of warmth exploded inside of me before seeping into my veins. My skin pricked with electricity when Noah’s hand glided through my hair and it was then that I noticed his eyes were closed but his lips were on mine.

He was kissing me?

Fuck.

I nearly cried and cursed the King for bestowing me with this curse of not being able to feel human touch. All I wanted was to feel Noah’s lips on mine, taste him, devour him. Although I couldn’t feel him, the feeling that was coming alive inside of me was almost too much to handle and I let a quiet moan be swallowed by Noah, who hummed in delight.

It felt like fireworks being shot off inside of me. It felt like that first flight I took when I realized my wings kept me upright. It felt like the wind blew through my hair and the softness of the clouds encased me just as Noah’s arm did.

Something spread my lips apart and now all I could feel was the sudden wetness in my mouth and between my legs. I clenched them together while grasping at Noah’s shirt, trying to feel anything.

He pulled away to glance down at me, briefly searching my eyes for any emotion I couldn’t give off in the kiss we just shared.

“I mean this with genuine curiosity but have you never been kissed before?” Noah wondered while his hand cupped my cheek.

I shifted on his bed and kept my gaze cast down on my lap. While I lay with other angels up in the Kingdom, we’d never kissed; Noah was my first kiss, ever.

“Lethia?”

“I-,” my shoulders slumped. “No. Was I that bad?”

Now while I couldn’t feel his touch, that didn’t stop me from meeting his kiss with the same amount of gentle caress that he led with.

A low noise rumbled in Noah’s chest. “Not at all. I’d actually like to kiss you again if that’s alright?”

Unbridled heat expanded deep within me as I nodded quickly and then his lips were on mine again. I let the passion in my heart guide my lips, doing my best to mimic Noah’s actions, and he let out a moan when I climbed into his lap to run my hands through the waves of his tawny hair. Even if I couldn’t feel any part of this physically, I could feel it in my heart, and to me, that’s all that mattered.

“Lethia,” Noah groaned when I pressed my hips into his.

Something in my heart told me that he was brushing his tongue along the side of my neck before his teeth grazed over in its path. That same feeling told me that Noah’s hands were sprawled over my lower back before slipping underneath my shirt to claw at my skin, digging his nails in.

My spine tingled with fire, starting from the base and shooting straight up into my neck before spreading through my entire angel essence. My head fell back as my jaw went slack when the familiar feeling of ecstasy crept its way into me.

Only this wasn’t the kind of ecstasy brought on by a man's kiss or touch.

No.

The skin on my shoulder blades began to peel away an opening for my wings to protrude from and with a gasp of fear, I scrambled away from Noah and nearly stumbled over my feet as I stood in front of him. He lay back on his elbows, hair a mess from my fingers running through it, and lips were swollen from our kiss. The rise and fall of his chest was uneven as he tried to catch his breath. I dared a glance lower and sucked in a breath when I noticed how hard his cock was in his gray sweats.

“Hey, are you alright? Did I do something?” Noah asked while rising to his feet and taking a step towards me.

I took a step back. “No, you didn’t do anything. I-I can’t explain it but-.”

How could I explain it?

Oh hey, Noah. I was getting so turned on by our kiss that my wings almost came out.

Yeah right.

I dragged my hands through my hair and let out an aggravated groan to which Noah gently grasped my wrists and held them against his chest. My gaze bounced back and forth between his eyes, my erratic heartbeat calming.

“If I went too far, I apologize,” he said.

“No,” I hastily shook my head. “You didn’t do anything. I just needed a moment to clear my head, that's all.”

He hummed. “I know the perfect thing to help with that.”

Before dropping my hands, he left a gentle kiss on them, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread to my lips as I watched him gather the extra clothes on his desk and towels.

“A shower always helps me clear my head,” Noah said while leading me out of his bedroom.

“A shower?” I asked, slowly treading behind him.

“Yeah,” he nodded as we stepped inside the bathroom. “Hot Water. Soap. Shampoo.”

“Naked. I know the drill,” I crossed my arms over my chest with a raised brow. “Are you trying to get me naked, Noah?”

Nervously he rubbed the back of his neck and a red tint painted over his cheeks. “N-no. I just want to help you.”

I took the things in his hands with a nod of thanks. “You’ve already done enough for me. Giving me a place to stay.”

The space between us was small in his bathroom due to his tall stature and he gazed down at me with a slight up curl of his lips as he stuffed his hands in his pocket.

“I help the people I care about.”

I cocked my head at him. “You care about me?”

This word, care, was foreign to me; unheard of in the Kingdom. So to hear Noah utter it made a weird feeling stir inside of me.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t,” Noah’s voice was low as he took a small step towards me.

However, when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I nearly dropped the clothes and towels. I always tried to avoid looking at myself because of how evil I looked. My red eyes matched the red lights from under Noah’s bed and my short onyx hair barely reached my shoulders. Thankfully my jacket and jeans covered the tattoos that were drawn on my skin; etched in deep with my transgressions.

I despised how I looked now. Revolted in the darkness that I become.

“I never used to look like this,” I admitted with a long sigh, letting the things in my hands fall to the bathroom counter.

Noah stepped behind me to stare at my reflection in the mirror. “Really?”

“This look?” I pointed to my reflection. “It’s a telling of everything wrong I’ve done. I can’t even look at myself without disgust.”

His face fell at my words and he rested his hands on my shoulders. “Lethia, that’s the farthest thing from the truth. You look beautiful.”

That was another word I hadn’t heard before.

“Beautiful?” I raised a brow, staring at his reflection still.

Noah rested his chin on top of my head and I couldn’t help but giggle at the size difference between us. I wasn’t exactly short but with Noah’s length, he easily towered over me so to rest his chin on my head he had to bend down a bit, encasing his arms on either side of me to grip the bathroom counter.

My eyes raked over the tattoos that covered the entirety of his arms, various designs and colors.

“Well for starters, the length of your hair suits your face structure and the color compliments your olive skin tone,” he left a kiss on the side of my head.

“I used to have long, almost white hair,” I said.

“Oh,” his face scrunched up.

“You don’t like it?” I teased with a chuckle.

Noah shrugged. “You look beautiful either way but like I said this look suits you better.”

His hands grabbed the collar of my jacket to slowly pull it down my arms, letting it fall to the floor at our feet. I now stood in front of him in my jeans and white shirt, arms exposed to show the darkness of the tattoos that covered them.

“Your tattoos are made for you,” he breathed in my ear, fingers trailing up the skin of my arms.

Our eyes locked in the mirror, the deep crimson of mine paled in contrast to his bright almond ones; however this time when I looked into them, they weren’t cold and vacant. Not like I’d see in my dreams.

“Your eyes,” Noah breathed. “I think your eyes are one of my favorite things about you.”

He brushed away the hair from my neck so he could press kisses along the skin there. I watched in the mirror as his teeth grazed over the shell of my ear before sinking deep into the crook of my neck. Straight heat shot through me again and I let myself fall into his embrace with a sigh that sounded more like a moan.

“I’m afraid,” my bottom lip trembled as I cast my eyes down from his.

Noah turned me in his arms so I had no choice but to look up at him. His eyes were filled with worry as they searched every inch of my face. I grasped at the front of his shirt, fingers trying desperately to feel the material.

“Afraid of what? This?” He pointed between us.

“No,” I shook my head and then let out a shaky breath. “I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me.”

Noah’s hands were on both sides of my face because he held me firm. Then when the light sparked inside of me, I knew that he crashed his lips on mine, tongue slipping inside of my mouth. Although I couldn’t feel his touch, the feeling I had deep inside of me was telling me everything he was doing.

One hand cupped my cheek while the other slipped inside my shirt, grasping at the skin of my lower back. His lips and tongue explored every inch of my mouth, dragging his teeth along my jawline and neck as he went back to leaving small marks along my collarbone.

His name came out just below a whisper when he lifted me onto the bathroom counter, digging his nails into the thick material of my jeans to spread my legs open for him. Noah stepped between them as I brought our lips together again in another fiery kiss, needing to bring Noah even closer to me by any means.

“Lethia,” he murmured against my mouth. “I need-.”

Just as the skin on my shoulders began peeling away, someone walked into the bathroom, causing Noah to jump away from me slightly. Glancing at the now open door, I noticed his roommate Jesse’s eyes bouncing between Noah and me.

“Shit, I should have knocked,” he muttered while rubbing his face. “I just saw the door was cracked open and didn’t think.”

I wiped away the saliva from my lips and turned my head away from the two men, feeling this unusual burn on my cheeks.

“It’s alright,” Noah ran a hand through his hair, still keeping a wide distance between us. “I was just letting Lethia take a shower.”

Jesse nodded. “Yeah sure, no problem. I’ll just use the bathroom downstairs.”

When it was just Noah and me yet again, I peered over to him who was leaning against the wall with a wicked smirk.

“What?” I asked with a slight up curl on my lips.

He said nothing, only adjusting himself. I dared a glance downward and sucked in a breath when I noticed his cock pressing hard against the front of his sweats. All the warmth in my body shot down to my core and I squeezed my thighs together, hoping it would curb the itch.

How did this mortal seem to set all of my senses ablaze like this?

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Noah motioned to the shower.

As he began walking out of the bathroom, I dared a glance at the shower but tilted my head in confusion.

“Wait,” I spoke while reaching for his wrist, my black nails grazing his skin.

Both of us reacted with such a shock, nearly making me rear back in surprise. Noah’s eyes bounced from my hold on him to my face; a spark of something behind them.

“How do I turn it on?”

“The shower?” His brows creased.

All I did was nod, some things on this planet still confused me but I didn’t want to tell him that.

With a chuckle, Noah walked over to the shower, sliding the door open then turned the dial left.

“Left is hot. The right is cold. Adjust how you need to. There’s already some shampoo and body wash in there for you,” he said when he stepped in front of me.

Steam began to fill the bathroom, dancing above our heads like the clouds in the Kingdom. Reaching up on the tips of my toes, I laid a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you, Noah.”

NOAH

I stifled a yawn behind my hand as I poured myself yet another cup of coffee, stirring the dark liquid as I leaned against the kitchen island. Craning my neck far to the left, I groaned when it popped in a few different places. Sleeping on the couch did a number on my back and neck but I didn’t want to verbalize my discomfort knowing that Lethia was comfortable upstairs in bed.

Possibly naked, lying in my sheets.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I took a large gulp of my coffee, it slightly burning on the way down, when Jesse walked into the kitchen. His eyes raked over my disheveled hair and skewed clothes with a smirk.

“Rough night?”

I grumbled in response.

“I’m sorry about interrupting you and Lethia last night,” Jesse apologized while reaching for a cup in the far right cupboard.

“It’s alright,” I set my cup on the counter next to me.

It seemed as if there was something on the tip of his tongue so I urged him to ask his question with a nod.

“Are you sure you aren’t moving fast with her?” Jesse was hesitant to ask. “You don’t know a lot about Lethia?”

Even though I was growing tired of the same conversation with my friends, I took a deep breath to ease away the annoyance. I knew they were only coming from a place of love.

“It’s hard to explain,” I rubbed a hand up and down my arm. “We feel this strong connection between us and no matter how hard I tried to stay away, it seemed as if something kept pulling us together.”

Jesse nodded with a faint smile. “She seems like a great girl, Noah. We just don’t want you to fall too deep and end up getting hurt.”

I reassured him with a pat on his shoulder just as Jolly, Michael, and Orie came bounding into the kitchen, all of them going about to start their typical morning routine. It was a rare Saturday that we all had off so earlier in the week we talked about going for a hike today.

“Still on for today?” Orie wondered.

“Yeah,” I answered.

Jolly took a sip of his coffee. “Did you ask if Lethia wanted to come?”

My lips parted to speak but there was this tingle at the back of my neck, making the hairs there stand to attention, and when I turned slightly, my heart shuddered in my chest.

Lethia stood in the middle of the kitchen, rubbing a hand on her elbow. Her hair was a mess from a night of sleep and I could make out the faintest of a few purple marks across her neck. My cock twitched in my sweats when I remembered our kisses from last night. But that’s not what made my heart stop. It was what she was wearing.

My blue and white star shorts and my Jesus playing basketball with the devil t-shirt. It drowned on her, barely covering the shorts. Not only were her arms covered in tattoos but so were both of her legs, the black designs standing out amongst the sunlight that brushed in through the patio door next to her. Lethia looked absolutely breathtaking.

Like an angel.

“Hilarious,” she pulled at the picture of the shirt.

I smiled. “Did you sleep alright?”

“You guys were going to ask me something?”

She averted my question with one of her own and Orie spoke up.

“We were going for a hike today. Would you like to join?”

“A hike,” Lethia repeated the words slowly.

Michael rolled his eyes. “You know, walking up a mountain. Fresh air. Scenery. Exercise.”

Crimson eyes sliced into him. “I know what a hike is.”

“Cool, so are you coming with or not?” He crossed his arms.

“I’m touched you want me to tag along, Michael. I knew you secretly had feelings for me,” Lethia teased with a playful smirk.

Peering over to Michael, I noticed a red tint covering his cheeks before he hid his face in the fridge, rummaging around for something.

“So,” I began while closing the distance between Lethia and me. “Do you want to come with us?”

She peered up at me through dark lashes. “You want to spend time with me?”

“I think after last night that it’s pretty clear,” I said while taming her sleep-tousled hair.

Lethia leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering shut with a peaceful sigh.

“Okay,” she agreed after a beat of silence. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

“Take all the time you need,” I said, trailing my fingers down the side of her neck.

Lethia slipped away from me and trotted back upstairs to get ready and when I turned around, I ignored the looks from Michael, Orie, and Jolly. Instead, I walked into the living room while hearing Jesse fill them in on what happened last night.

“You kissed her?” Michael asked as he followed me into the living room.

Slipping my black jacket over my hoodie, I shrugged. “It sort of happened. We were in my room talking and I asked if I could.”

He hesitated and I knew, like Jesse, he had some reservations.

“Look, I appreciate you guys looking out for me, I do. But if I didn’t trust Lethia, she wouldn’t be here. So can we please make her feel welcome?”

I directed the question towards Michael, who raised his hands. “I didn’t start it.”

“I think the reason why you two seem to butt heads is because she doesn't take your shit,” Jolly chuckled while tying up his hair.

Michael grumbled under his breath as Lethia came bounding down the steps, yet again taking my breath away. She was dressed in biker shorts, showcasing her long and toned legs, and a black fitted crop top. Her white tennis shoes stood out as she came to a stop when all eyes fell on her.

“Do I have something stuck to me or something?” She asked, doing a full 360 turn, and I briefly saw a tattoo peaking on her shoulder through the straps of her shirt.

Some kind of bird. A crow?

“No, you look great,” I smiled. “Ready?”

“Shit, my jacket. Let me-.”

Before she could run back upstairs, I handed her an extra sweater of mine I grabbed from the front closet.

“Your leather jacket is looking a bit worn so here, you can have my sweater for the day,” I said.

She hesitantly took it, fingering the material of my yellow sweater. “Thank you, Noah.”

The drive to our usual hiking spot seemed to go by faster than normal as we all piled in Orie’s SUV; he and his dog, Harper, up front; something Michael gave him shit for when he tried to call shotgun.

Jolly and Michael were in the middle.

Me, Lethia, and Jesse were in the back seat.

My knees were brushing with hers, heat spreading throughout my nerve endings and I suddenly wanted to feel all of her all over me. Memories of our kiss last night flashed in my mind when I found myself staring at her lips while she talked with Jesse.

I remembered how they tasted; like every dark thought I’d ever had. There was something about her that kept calling to me, to a side that I forever repressed. I needed to know more about her and to know who she was running from so I could protect her from them.

Once we all stumbled out of the car, Lethia bent low to Harper so the dog could sniff her fingers. With a faint smile, she scratched Harper being the ears, something the dog appreciated with a wag of her tail.

“You’re a beautiful creature,” Lethia mused before rising to her feet.

With Orie taking the lead, we all followed up the usual path, Lethia slowly trailing behind. I let her take her time alone, figured something was bothering her, but when we made it about halfway up the trail, I finally turned to face her. Her hand was moving in an orbit as she studied the long black nails; sharp as a blade.

“Come on slowpoke!” I called out to her with a smile after pulling my hood up.

Her eyes barely lifted to mine, something still clouding her mind.

“What’s going on?” I asked, coming to a stop.

“Hm?”

When Lethia finally looked up at me, it was a few seconds too late as she crashed into me, not realizing I stopped walking. My arms wrapped around her to keep us upright while her hands sprawled over my chest. I was still so nervous to have her this close to me that I knew she would be able to tell when she’d feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest.

“What’s going on in here?” I asked again, tapping her forehead.

She didn’t even flinch.

“Nothing,” Lethia said.

I knew she couldn’t see the look I was giving her through my sunglasses so instead, I squeezed her hips; once again not reacting to my touch.

“I’m fine, Noah,” she reassured me with a gentle caress to my face. “We should move along before the others wonder where we drifted off to.”

I glanced over my shoulder, noticing that Jolly was at the top of the hill about ten feet ahead of us; stopped and waiting.

“The first one to Jolly wins,” I said.

This made her raise a brow. “A race?”

“Yeah,” I dropped my hands from her waist. “If I win, I get to sleep in my bed with you. The couch isn’t the best place to sleep on my back. If it makes you feel better, we can put a wall of pillows between us.”

“What do I get when I win?” Her hands replaced mine on her hips.

I snorted. “Someone’s confident.”

It was her turn to snort. “There’s no way you can beat me. Now, what do I get when I win?”

“Whatever you want,” I shrugged.

She tapped a finger to her lip as if she was really thinking about her decision.

“If I win, I’d like for you to kiss me again.”

My cock twitched in my joggers while my heart hammered loudly in my ears.

“Lethia,” my voice dropped. “You don’t have to make a bet for me to kiss you again.”

Cocking her head to the side, she stood taller to close the distance. I felt the warm breath fan over my bottom lip and I almost captured her tongue with mine when it darted out to wet her lips.

Suddenly, her laughter erupted through the trees as she took off in a sprint toward Jolly. Chuckling under my breath, I whipped around to begin running after her, amazed at how fast she’d already closed the distance to Jolly. She was less than five feet from him as he watched the two of us with a smile.

Suddenly, her steps faltered briefly, just enough for me to pass her in such haste that I didn’t see that she stopped running completely. When I reached Jolly, I tapped his shoulder before raising my hands.

“I win!”

Lethia slowly caught up to us with a smile painting the features of her face, not even working hard to catch her breath from the race. It was as if she wasn’t even winded.

“You did, fair and square,” she agreed while tying half of her hair up into a bun.

Jolly looked from me to Lethia, a knowing look on his face. “Really?”

My shoulders fell when I saw the look the two of them shared.

“Wait,” I pointed to her. “Did you let me win?”

“No,” Lethia dragged out the word and shrugged. “Why would I do that?”

When she slipped between Jolly and me, she patted my chest and winked. “You better not be a blanket hog, Noah.”

I watched her walk up to Jesse, the two of them picking up the conversation they had in the car.

“You know Lethia let you win, right?”

Jolly’s voice made me snap my gaze over to him. “No, she didn’t.”

Now it was me that gave that knowing look and I shifted on my feet.

“Why would she let me win?” I asked.

“She wanted you to share your bed with her,” Jolly said as if it was obvious.

I stood there for a long moment after he left to catch up with everyone else, letting his words settle within me. Lethia let me win because she wanted to share my bed. A fire burned in my gut with that knowledge as excitement filled my veins with the thought of going to sleep tonight.

When I reached the group, they all were standing on a cliff edge staring down at the city of Los Angeles. This was one of my favorite spots because you could see everything up here but hear nothing of the hustle and bustle of the city, only your thoughts.

I took note of Lethia who was a few feet away from all of us, in her own little bubble, letting the wind blow through her hair and my sweater that was tied around her waist. Her eyes were closed, a look of peaceful bliss on her face almost as if she belonged in the breeze. Her arms were outstretched as she tilted her head back. “Lethia.”

One eye cracked open as she looked at me when I snapped a quick picture of her with a smile.

“I’m glad you invited me with you guys,” she breathed while dropping her arms.

“Yeah, you’ve been alright company,” Michael admitted with a grumble.

She came over and ruffled his hair. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Hooking an arm around her back, I pulled her into my chest, breathing my question over her lips. “You let me win the race?”

“Now why would I do that?” Lethia hummed, playing with the strings of my hoodie.

“That would mean I secretly want to sleep in the same bed with you.”

Something mischievous sparkled in her crimson eyes as I lowered my head to her, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. Her body relaxed in my embrace, lips molding against my own, while my hands roamed up her back.

Pulling away, Lethia dragged a finger over my bottom lip.

“Looks like we both won in the end,” she respired.

“How sweet.”

Lethia’s body went stiff in my embrace when she peered over my shoulder toward the unfamiliar voice. Following her gaze, my brows creased when I noticed a man standing a few feet away from our group, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his dark Levis. The top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, showcasing a golden chain. For someone walking outside on a dirt-filled mountain, he looked clean; pristine. Not a single strand of his blonde hair was out of place on top of his head.

“Uriel,” Lethia forced out through gritted teeth.

“Do you know him?” I asked when I looked back at her.

“Unfortunately,” her jaw ticked, never removing her eyes from the stranger. “He’s an old friend. Give me a few minutes?”

I swallowed the jealousy burning deep in my gut at the way she said old friend but nodded, letting her slip from my embrace. With the guys flanking in a line a few feet behind her, we watched with careful eyes as she moved out of earshot from us.

LETHIA

“How did you find me?” I questioned, the soles of my shoes scraping along the rocks beneath my feet.

Uriel smiled with his lips but not his eyes. “I must admit, your scent was a bit harder to find now that you mingle among these mortals.”

“What do you want, Uriel?” My hands shook at my side so I rolled them into fists.

Bright gold eyes flicked over my shoulder towards the guys before they fell on me.

“I come with a message from the King.”

I swallowed thickly, nearly faltering my stone face at the mention of the King, but remained calm.

“I’m surprised he let you leave his side; you were always the one to be up his ass any chance you could get.”

Uriel’s eyes sliced into me. “The vulgarity of your speech, Lethia. A few weeks here and you’ve changed; in more ways than one.”

“What’s this message?” I asked with a sigh, ready to end this surprise meeting.

“The King is welcoming you back into the Kingdom.”

My heart stopped in my chest as my jaw dropped. I couldn’t ignore the way relief flooded me for the briefest of moments.

A way back home? I was allowed to go back home.

“That seems too good to be true. How can I believe your word?” I asked while crossing my arms over my chest.

Uriel held out his hands. “I am an archangel, Lethia. We’re known for our word.”

“When the fuck has your word ever been good enough? I sneered, countless memories of how wrong his word had been in the Kingdom.

“Do you want to be granted a way back or not?” Uriel clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Surely the King has a catch,” I reminded him. “He always did.”

Uriel pointed to Noah. “Erase that mortal’s memory of you, renounce him and everything you’ve done together. Never look his way again and you have your way back home.”

My heart fell to the depths of my stomach at this demand. Even though there was a tiny sliver of hope of being granted access back into my home, there was no way I could erase Noah’s memory of me. These feelings we shared were still unknown to me but that didn’t mean I didn’t understand that we were important to each other; the feelings were real.

“I’m not interested,” I spat while spinning on my heels, ready to walk back over to Noah.

“He will allow you time to think about it, but not for long,” Uriel spoke. “I suggest you accept because the stench of humans is beginning to rub off on you; especially that mortal.”

Both of us glanced over at Noah who was watching us intently while talking with Jesse. They were still a good distance from us so I knew none of them could hear mine and Uriel's conversation.

“Hm, he fancies you, Lethia. Tell me, how often do you walk in his dream? Quite often I suppose since he has those vulgar thoughts of you,” Uriel breathed against the back of my neck, fingers grazing over mine.

My head snapped up to Uriel, creating distance between us by snatching my hand away from him. It was clear that I still was able to feel the touch of fellow angels, just not mortals.

“You don’t know anything! He’s a good man offering me a place to stay away from Maraxa and Lucifer,” I seethed.

His eyes darkened, almost as black as my wings. “You must not heed to their demands. If you even think about joining Lucifer's army, any chance of you getting back into the Kingdom will be long forgotten. The King is only allowing you one chance. Erase that mortal mind or stay on this putrid planet and walk among these disgusting creatures.”

“Trust me, I have zero intention of joining Lucifer. It’s because of him I fell into what I am now. But the thought of joining a Kingdom that banished me also isn’t quite appealing,” I scoffed and walked a few steps away from him when his next words gave me great pause.

“What if I sweeten the deal?”

Turning slowly on my feet, I held out a hand. “I doubt it but go ahead.”

Uriel pursed his lips before running a hand through his already perfect long, golden hair. “It is known that Lucifer is looking to revolt and he’s trying to find other fallen to join his army; for example, you.”

I shook my head. “I already told you, I have no interest in joining him.”

“The King can be quite lax with this upcoming war. He thinks he has enough soldiers for it but if I’m being frank, without Oblivion, we have no chance.”

Every part of my body chilled to the bone as all the breath was snatched from my lungs at hearing that name; I hadn’t heard it in so long.

“I’m not that person anymore,” I stated. “I haven’t been for a very long time.”

“If you come back to the Kingdom, you can bring him with you. But still would need to erase his memories of you.” Uriel nodded behind me.

To Noah.

“What?” I stood tall. “How would that work? He’s mortal, he wouldn’t survive in the Kingdom. Not to mention, the King would never allow it.”

That’s when something sparkled in Uriel’s eyes.

“You two will dethrone the King.”

I laughed out loud at his words. “Dethrone the King? Show up to the pearly gates so we can spit in his face?”

“Think about it,” Uriel stepped closer to me, running a hand through my short locks.

“If you accept to dethrone the King, lead the army in victory against Lucifer, you can bring the mortal with you and rule the Kingdom. However, he would have to be a mere peasant there. He cannot remember who you are. Think of him as a mere pawn for you to play with.”

I stood frozen under his touch as he twirled a strand of hair around his finger. “I’ll even return you to your old physical state. Which you should be thankful for because this one doesn’t suit you.”

The promise of not only going back home in my old form but being able to bring Noah with me made something inside of me light with the life I’d been searching for since I fell. But it wouldn’t be easy to bring a mortal into the Kingdom; there was only one way to enter.

Being an eternal being.

“I’ll think about it,” I muttered under my breath.

Uriel smiled as he removed his hand from my hair. “I suggest you do because the longer you try to hide your true form, well I don’t need to remind you of what will happen.”

No, he didn’t.

My wings will deteriorate. My powers will weaken. Slowly over time, I will lose myself in my mind.

With a scowl, I turned my back to him and finally sauntered back over towards Noah, who met me halfway, quick to pull me into his embrace.

“Everything alright?” He brushed away some stray hairs from my face.

“I need to get far away from that man,” I begged, parts of me that I didn’t want to remember coming back with force.

“Did he hurt you?” Noah’s hands were on both sides of my face, almost mute against my skin. “Are you alright?

“Please,” I grasped at his arms, digging into the material of his jacket. “Can we leave? Seeing him brought up far too many memories I’d like to forget”.

Noah nodded while wrapping an arm around my shoulder to begin leading me back down the hill, Uriel’s voice calling after us.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Lethia!”

JOLLY

“This place is called what?”

Noah chuckled at Lethia’s upturned head at him with furrowed brows. “In-N-Out. They’ve got great burgers here.”

“Burgers?” She said slowly.

I watched as Noah explained the menu to her, what’s good and what to stay away from. Revealing that she wasn’t particular to any kind of food, he took it upon himself to order her a cheeseburger, fries, and a large chocolate milkshake.

“Oh, that milkshake sounds delicious,” Lethia mused with a bright smile.

There was a faint smile on my face as I continued to watch the two of them, Noah sliding his hand on the lower back of Lethia as they waited for their food. She had slipped on his sweater on the way down from the mountain, the sudden change in the wind causing all of us to feel a frigid chill.

After Lethia spoke to that old friend of hers, something shifted with her. Noah could tell instantly because he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, not wanting to let her more than a few inches out of her sight.

“Something doesn’t feel right about this guy,” Noah muttered to me as we watched Lethia and her friend converse.

I held him back with a grip on his elbow when he nearly stomped over there seeing Uriel run his hands through Lethia’s hair.

“Jolly,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“Just give her some time alone, like she asked. If she’s uncomfortable, she’ll let you know,” I said.

I could practically see all the worry leave Lethia’s body when Noah’s arms wrapped around her not even a minute later.

I couldn’t explain it, and frankly, I don’t think Noah could explain either how Lethia entranced him since he found her in our driveway all those weeks ago. He claimed there was this undeniable pull between them and almost as if it was fate that they kept running into each other.

There’d been this light in Noah’s eyes every time he looked at Lethia, shining brighter now knowing and witnessing they kissed. He’d become transfixed ever since that first meeting even when she had her hand wrapped around his throat. We all should have been terrified of the strength she possessed when she tackled Folio to the floor or with how tight her grip was around Noah. But if he didn’t feel harm when he was around her, the least we could do was trust her.

“What do you think?” Noah asked.

She nodded with a mouth full of food then once she swallowed, Lethia took a large gulp of her milkshake. “Delicious.”

While I ate my food, I continued to carefully watch them as the others around me had their own conversations. I didn’t miss the way when Noah muttered something in her ear, Lethia’s cheeks turned a deep crimson, like her eyes.

She had her milkshake halfway to her lips when her body stilled, a painful grimace crossing her features. Those eyes scanned the entirety of the restaurant, almost looking for someone.

“Are you alright?” Jesse questioned.

“Uh,” Lethia winced, nearly doubling over in pain when she grasped at the ends of the table.

A small gust of wind bristled by our table, tickling the back of my neck, and as I rubbed there Lethia quickly rushed to her feet.

“I need a moment,” she grumbled before rushing out of the restaurant.

Noah wanted to go after her but decided against it, knowing she needed time to herself.

“Anyone else think she does that a lot?” Michael questioned.

Noah sighed while running a hand through the long strands of his hair. “Lethia has a lot going on right now. She needs help.”

“What do you mean?” I asked while tossing my garbage on the tray in front of me.

There was slight hesitation from Noah for a long moment until he eventually divulged to us that he believes Lethia is running from an ex who wanted her back, even though he kicked her out of their house.

“Oh, right. Lucifer,” Michael snorted. “Are we sure she doesn’t have this obsession with the occult or some shit? The only Lucifer I’d heard of is the supposed devil.

Orie smacked him upside the head. “Dude, Lethia is not dating the devil.”

“She’s not dating anyone,” Noah’s eyes sliced over to him but they softened when he realized his words. “Lethia’s not dating anyone.”

“Then what do you call what’s going on between the two of you?” Jesse wondered.

“I don’t know,” Noah shrugged. “I like her but I don’t want to rush her into anything she doesn’t want.”

“From what I’ve seen, you’re not. Whatever you’re giving her, she’s reciprocating it back. Lethia feels the same, Noah. You don’t have to worry about that,” I assured him.

All he did was nod as he kept his gaze on the door of the restaurant where Lethia stormed through minutes before.

LETHIA

“Come to me, Lethia. My queen. I need you by my side to rule.”

I clawed at my ears, digging out Lucifer's voice, and continued to run into the woods behind the restaurant. My body ached with the pain of my wings nearly forcing their way out of my back. It’s been a few days since I let them out and it was beginning to crush me.

“I miss you, Lethia. I need you again.”

“Stop!” I cried while falling to my knees in the leaves and dirt, hands covering my ears.

“I’ll never stop until I have you in my presence. You are mine, Lethia. Not his.”

All but ripping Noah’s sweater off of me, I tossed it to the side just as I let out a sheer groan of agony mixed with ecstasy when my large wings exploded from my back. The force of them caused the branches of the trees around me to falter, some falling to the ground around me like drops of rain.

My jaw was slack as I peered up to the gloomy grays of the sky, an upcoming storm about to ravage through the city. All the pain I felt inside the restaurant was long forgotten, replaced with the intoxication of my angelic being. My powers began to slowly fester low inside of me and with an open palm, I watched the bright light slowly begin to grow into a baseball-sized orb then with a flick of my wrist, I sent it to a tree far off into the distance, incinerating it completely.

My body vibrated with all of my senses. I could hear the chatter of people miles away, feeling the slight creep of chills against the skin of my back when my name came out from the chatter.

“Lethia.”

Before, it was Lucifer speaking in my mind. But now, that voice that uttered my name was the same that spoke when he was kissing me last night.

My left wing came around to the front of me, blocking me from anyone who dared to venture into the woods and a broken sob fell from my chattering lips. They were deteriorating at such a rapid pace. While they were still large, dark, and caused fear to any mortal who saw them, my wings were a pathetic excuse to any other angel. A few feathers drifted into the wind, the weakness from hiding who I was taunting me.

“There she is. I knew you couldn’t hide who you were. The darkness lies inside of you, begging to awaken.”

I sucked in a gulp of air when Maraxa’s voice crept into my mind now; the cold and monotone bringing a chill to my bones.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head when a vision slammed into me.

Noah and the guys sitting in the booth of the restaurant, smiling and laughing with a group of girls that sauntered up to the table. One of the girls was standing a bit too close to Noah, as he signed something for her. When he handed it back, their fingers grazed over the girl’s. His almond eyes snapped from her hand to her face, gazing at all of her features.

“No!” I screamed while rising to my feet. “Stop. I know what you’re doing!”

“Oh, sweet Oblivion. I’m doing nothing that your mind is already thinking.”

The way Maraxa uttered my other name made me whirl around, thinking she was here with me.

“I’m not Oblivion anymore. I haven’t been for a very long time,” I spat, eyes scanning my surroundings.

“You should see yourself. Looking like a mad angel who lost her mind.”

Uriel’s warnings were right. My wings were deteriorating and now, I was losing myself in my mind. Were these voices even in my head? Or had I been imagining them since my fall?

“Lethia?!”

My head snapped up to just outside the clearing of the woods, Noah’s faint outline slowly closing the distance.

“Oh, you’re thinking of letting him see you in your true form. Surely, he will think you’re even more of a freak than how you look. He wouldn’t understand.”

Meraxa.

The voices wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard I smacked my ears to drown them out.

“This mortal will never understand you. You’re mine, Lethia. Mine and no one else's. I will have you in my arms once again.”

Lucifer.

“Stop,” I cried while falling to my knees again, my wings wrapping around me in a protective barrier.

“Dethrone the King and all of his kingdom will be yours.”

Uriel.

“Lethia? Are you okay?”

Noah.

Snapping my eyes open, they landed on Noah who was now a few feet away from me. With a roll of my shoulders, I stood to my feet, appearing just as I had moments before leaving his presence.

NOAH

“Lethia, are you alright?” I questioned as she appeared through the clearing of the woods.

I felt Lethia brush past me as she walked back toward the car, not uttering a word at me. My heart sank slightly but I did my best not to dwell on it because of our moments together in my bedroom and the bathroom last night. The unbridled passion between us was burning over into undeniable attraction.

With a sigh, I tied my hair into a low bun, ready to go back home after this long day, but a flutter of movement at my feet caught my attention. It was a lone black feather, just like the one I'd found that first night Lethia appeared in my life.

Bending at the knees, I reached for the feather, and then with a gasp of breath, I felt my vision being yanked away from me at the edges, darkness encompassing every part of me. I felt my soul being dragged away into another dimension, tumbling into a brighter vision of pure peace and eternal life.

A woman with white golden hair stood in front of me, even brighter wings protruding from her back, as she held onto less fragile wings from the man who kneeled at her feet.

"Oblivion," he cried. "Don't fall into the true meaning of your name, please."

The woman; no angel cocked her head to the side with a slight wicked smile.

"The King bestowed this name to me for a reason," was all she said before the man's cries of death and pain erupted but were overshadowed by the sounds of his wings being ripped from his back.

With a gasp of breath, I was dragged back into the present, nearly stumbling onto my ass. Looking around my surroundings, I noticed I was back in Los Angeles, Jolly and Jesse slowly walking towards me.

"You alright?" Jolly wondered.

Ignoring him, I twirled the feather in my fingers and locked eyes with Lethia, who gave nothing away from her face except the slight flicker of light in her red eyes.

This vision didn’t feel like it was one of my own memories. It was as if I was dragged into someone else subconscious as I watched from the outside looking in. Something about watching the angel get his wings ripped away from him felt wrong, especially with the wicked smirk the female angel had on her face when she did it.

I couldn’t ignore the way my mind vibrated with the familiarity of her. I knew who she was but she didn’t look familiar. Her presence was the only familiar thing about her and with a flick of my gaze to Lethia, there was a small part of me that knew who it was.

With a sigh, I carefully pocketed the feather in my coat pocket and nodded over to Jesse who asked if I was ready to head back to the house. When I climbed into the car, I noticed that Michael and Jolly sat in the back with Lethia, so I retreated into the front seat of the car, while Jesse lounged in the middle with Harper.

“Everything alright?” Orie asked as he pulled the car out onto the main road.

Glancing over my shoulder, I watched Lethia for a few beats as she stared straight out of her window, not bothering to meet my gaze. I knew she could feel it burning into her but whatever happened to her outside in those woods rendered her speechless.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully before turning back to face forward with a sigh.

As soon as we arrived back at the house, Lethia nearly jumped out of the car to run inside once Jolly opened the door for her. She locked herself away in my bedroom for the rest of the afternoon well into the evening. Part of me wanted to check on her if she was alright but it was clear she wanted to be left alone. If she needed me, she would let me know.

Would she?

With a shake of my head at the thought, I bid a goodnight to Jesse and Michael as we watched a movie together in the living room and slowly retreated up the steps to my room. The door opened a crack but before I pushed my way through, I noticed Lethia standing in the middle of my room in front of my mirror. She was only wearing a pair of black panties and a matching bra. I knew I should have averted my gaze to anything else but I was mesmerized by her.

Lethia showed me her back, hands slinking up her spine towards the hook of her bra, the material falling to the floor at her feet. My breath caught in my throat when I noticed the large crow tattoo on her right shoulder blade. But it wasn’t just the sight of it that gave me great pause; it was the large upside-down V scar on her back. It wasn’t an old scar. It looked new; fresh.

“What the?” I muttered, slowly pushing away from the door to stand in the middle of the landing above the stairs.

With a glance over the landing, I noticed that Jesse and Michael were still sitting on the couch, and knowing Jolly and Orie retreated to bed earlier, the computer in the studio was free. As I came back downstairs to head into the studio that was off the den, Jesse raised a brow at me.

“I thought you went to bed?”

I motioned to the room in front of me. “Late-night inspiration.”

Shutting the door behind me, I dropped down into the chair in front of the computer with my fingers hovering over the keyboard. My mind was full of different words, I wasn’t sure where to start.

Black feathers.

Vivid dreams.

Crows in dreams.

Upside-down V scars on a person's back.

Angels.

Fallen Angels.

The last one made me freeze ever so still, a memory of my own past creeping into the front recesses of my mind.

“Noah, dear! Come on. It’s time for your bedtime story!”

Eight-year-old me ran down the long hallway of my grandparent's house into my bedroom there and hopped into my bed, where my grandma sat on the edge with a fond smile.

“Lord of the Rings?” I asked while climbing under the blankets.

She chuckled while tucking me in. “Now, what did I say about those books? Aren’t you a little too young for them?”

I rolled my eyes. “Ok grandma, what’s the story tonight?”

“Fallen angels.”

“Like from heaven?” I asked with furrowed brows.

“Now I won't bore you with all the details but there’s something special about them,” my grandma began while patting my thigh over the blanket. “When an angel falls from heaven, people think they’re automatically stripped of all their powers but sometimes that's not the case.”

She continued. “There’s this story of a great angel that fell, her feathers scattered all over the world. Whenever a human touched them, they would be sucked into memories of the angel.”

I gave my grandma a “you can’t be serious” look but she only cupped my cheek in response.

“No one believed that angels walked among us until someone saw the scars on the back of one.”

“Scars?” I said, sitting up straighter in bed.

“Large ones on their back. In an upside-down V.”

I choked on a breath nearly falling out of the computer chair but gripped the handrests to keep myself steady. When I was eight years old, I figured my grandma was blowing smoke out of her ass, telling another one of her many stories. But now, everything seemed to have a bit of truth.

Biting my bottom lip, I clicked on Google and quickly typed the words into the search bar before I doubted myself a second longer.

Fallen Angel.

I clicked on the first website.

“Fallen Angels are angels who have been exiled or banished from Heaven. Often such banishment is a punishment for disobeying or rebelling against their King,” I read the words out loud.

I scrolled down the page a bit farther, still muttering the words out loud as I read them.

“If a fallen angel is impaled or struck in the scars created when his or her wings were ripped out usually spanning from shoulder blades to kidney area, he or she will be temporarily immobilized. Some angels still have scars even if they haven’t lost their wings. It’s easier for the skin to peel away for the wings to slip from.”

I shivered at the phantom feeling but then froze when I read the next section.

“A fallen angel is unable to feel physical pain or sensations.”

Scrolling down a bit farther, it was then that I realized how right I’d been about this feeling festering within me; almost begging to be let out.

“A fallen angel's feather holds a lot of power. It holds the memories of the angel and whoever touches them can find themselves in those memories. A fallen angel's biggest weakness is one of their feathers. If a feather is burned, the original owner of the feather will be chained in Hell for eternity. Otherwise, fallen angels are nearly as indestructible as Angels and Archangels.”

I fell back into the chair and rubbed a hand over my mouth, letting everything I read process in my mind. Everything correlated to what I’ve noticed with Lethia especially the part of her not being able to feel anything.

There’d been a few times when it seemed like my touch meant nothing to her. But when we kissed, it seemed as if she could feel that.

The feathers.

Even though I tried to deny what I’d seen when I picked up the feather today, I knew that it was true what I’d seen.

But how come I hadn’t seen anything when I picked up the first feather?

Hunching back over towards the computer screen, I read more into the section about fallen angel feathers.

“The more fallen angel feathers you touch, the stronger your connection to their memories is.”

With a purse of my lips, I rummaged around the desk looking for my lyric book where I had stashed the first feather, using it as a bookmark. The other feather was still in my pocket, weighing heavily with the fear of what I would see next. My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears and feel it in my throat. It was suffocating, this feeling clawing its way inside of me, threatening to pull me under.

Did I want to do this?

Was I ready for what I could potentially see?

Granted, I had to take everything I read online with a grain of salt because it could have been a bunch of made-up bullshit. But with it correlating to not only my grandma’s story but things I’ve noticed about Lethia, there had to be some truth to it all.

“Fuck it,” I muttered while grabbing the feather in my lyric notebook at the same time I grabbed the one in my pocket.

Darkness lingered at the corners of not only my vision but my mind as well. It dragged me under with no warning to the dark depths of what I could only assume was Lethia’s mind.

My body landed with a thud to the cool wetness of the grass below me and quickly scrambling to my knees, I took in the vast empty field that went on for miles. Brightly colored trees lined the edge of the field and it was so quiet here that I could hear my blood running through my veins.

“My love. I've been waiting for you.”

Whirling around on my heels, I took in the sight of a tall man with skinny but large white wings extended from his back. His black hair was a mess of curls in front of his eyes and the dark levis hung low on his hips. The sheer brightness of his green eyes was almost eerie and I felt as if he could see straight into my soul.

But he didn’t. It was as if he didn’t see me when he walked past me, over towards a lone figure lying in the grass a few meters away from me.

Long golden, almost white, strands of hair fell around her shoulders as she sat up, bright eyes staring back at the man who was slowly closing the distance. I swallowed thickly when I recognized that face.

It wasn’t the way I knew her but it was still her.

Lethia.

“Lucifer. You know you’re not supposed to be here,” she quickly rose to her feet, taking a step back from him.

He stood in front of her shirtless, the defining muscles of his chest and stomach tightening as he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets.

So her ex actually was Lucifer.

What the fuck did you just step into, Noah?

“I snuck away from the King for a moment. I needed to see you,” Lucifer tried to reach for her.

Lethia smacked his hands away before running a shaking one of hers through her long hair. I then noticed she also had her wings exposed; large and as white as her hair.

“We cannot be seen together! If the King finds out we’ve been together, he will banish us; or worse.”

Lucifer chuckled darkly then pulled Lethia into his arms; her going willingly.

I gritted my teeth at the jealousy that coursed through me, trying to tell myself that it was a very long time ago and it didn’t mean anything; not anymore.

“My sweet Oblivion. The King wouldn’t banish his number one soldier. If he lost you, who would tear out the wings of the ones who went against him?”

My blood ran cold at Lucifer's words. I knew that the first memory I saw had something to do with Lethia but I never put two and two together. She was the one who ripped out the angel's wings.

“I did horrible things back home and how could I ever be allowed back?

Her words from the last night made more sense now than they did when she first uttered them.

“I cannot,” Lethia tried to fight against his grasp but ultimately gave in.

“One more night. After tonight, I’ll let you be,” Lucifer’s fingers linked behind her neck, tilting her lips up towards him.

“We both know we cannot stay away from each other,” she uttered before pulling him down to the grass with him.

My eyes snapped open with a gulp of air and I gazed around the room of my studio, making sure that I was still alone. It took me some time to get my breath back to normal and my heart back to a steady pace.

I slammed both of the feathers in my lyric book and hid it in the far back of the closet in the room, hoping no one else would find it. Those feathers held too much power and if I lost them, the looming fear of what could happen taunted me.

“If an angel's feather is burned, they become changed to Hell for all eternity,” I reiterated the words I read earlier.

Whether or not that part was true, I couldn’t risk it.

Letting out a long breath, I shut down the computer and slowly slipped out of the studio, going upstairs to my bedroom unnoticed by Jesse and Michael who were still watching the movie. This time when I stopped in front of my room, I noticed the door was shut so I was quiet as I stepped inside, finding a sleeping Lethia cuddled under the mounds of blankets on my bed.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at her back as it faced me, wondering what the scars looked like again underneath her shirt.

My shirt.

I had offered her to wear anything of mine and it seemed like she took me up on that offer.

It was clear who she was running from. Lucifer. He wanted her back for reasons unknown to me but it was clear she didn’t want to go with him.

I moved around my room quietly to change into a pair of sweats, opting not to sleep in a shirt only because it got extremely hot in my room during these summer nights, even with the air conditioner on.

Softly, I got into bed behind Lethia as the faint breaths coming from her filled the air. For the first while, I laid on my back and stared up at my ceiling but when I noticed she didn’t move away, I turned to my side but still kept space between us. The heat from her body radiated around me, pulling me into her aura and I found myself never wanting to leave.

Even though I knew what she was now, I wouldn’t tell Lethia I knew. This was something she needed to tell me when she was ready.

Instead, I wrapped my arm around her midsection and pulled her into my chest. Although she might not be able to feel my touch, that didn’t stop me from running my nose along the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her. She must have showered because she smelled of peaches and a hint of something familiar.

Me.

I faintly smelled my shampoo in her skin and I hummed in pleasure.

“What happened to the wall of pillows?” Lethia’s tired voice broke through the silence.

I knew she was teasing when I heard her smile with her words.

“This is much better than a wall of pillows,” I mused while I caressed her neck with my lips.

Lethia relaxed in my arms as she gave herself over to me and linked my fingers that rested on her stomach with hers and I wrapped my leg over hers, locking her in place.

“Goodnight, Noah,” she murmured into the pillow.

“Sweet dreams, Lethia,” I pressed a kiss to her head, finally letting the long day falter away with the darkness that swallowed us whole.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian x fallenangel!oc #mercy noah sebastian

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lovebaela · 9 months ago

Text

THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH

Chapter 1: A New Life

masterlist l next

(a/n) hello! I decided to restart my “Ice and Fire” fanfaction because I have so much more ideas for a better story :) even though it’s discontinued, if you would like to check it out here’s the masterlist! I hope you guys will enjoy this one 🤍 I’m working on the masterlist for this series right now!

UPDATED VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER IS ON WATTPAD

https://www.wattpad.com/1439910833-dragon-of-the-north-b-stark-𝐢-a-new-life

Divider credit: @dingusfreakhxrrington @valeskafics

°❆⋆Bran Stark x Targaryen OC .ೃ࿔*:･ CW: fem!oc, betrothal (forced marriage), topics of abuse and racism, angst, a lot of fluff, smut (I’ll try lol), and murder.꙳·❅°*˖ Rating: Mature audiences - The mature moments will happen later on. In the beginning, it will mostly just be cute fluff.⋆⁺₊❅.

Why must the gods be so cruel to me? What could I have possibly done to deserve this life? To be sold off like a slave by my own flesh and blood…I’ll never forgive Viserys. Without Dany, I am alone. Without love. I want to go home. But…where do I belong? The summer isles? No, that can’t be my true home, I never had the chance to live there. Do I belong anywhere?

Daughter of the mad king’s younger brother. Rhaella never knew her mother. She died after giving birth in the Summer Isles, killed by assassins under the command of the new king, Robert Baratheon. When he found out Rhaella’s mother was pregnant, he wanted both of them dead. Rhaella was smuggled out of the isles and sent to her cousins, the last Targaryens.

“I know you’re upset,” Lord Eddard Stark said, placing his hand on top of hers.“But please, believe me when I say this. I will never let anyone harm you. You are under my protection now.”

Rhaella gave him a weak smile back. Rhaella, the same name as the Mad King’s sister and wife. Daenerys gave her the name. Viserys despised the idea of his mother’s name given to the likes of a foreign girl. Even though she was still a Targaryen, he only considered her half and not pure. She took after her mother, with more summer isle features. Her skin wasn’t pale, instead, a light amber and tan that would get even darker in the sun. She had long silver curly hair, unlike her cousins who had straight silver blonde hair. The thing Rhaella hated the most was her eyes. Instead of being a pretty violet color, she had dark purple eyes that almost looked black.

Rhaella looked away from the carriage window to make eye contact with Lord Stark, “My Lord?” She asked, “Why did you accept my cousin’s offer to take me?”

“Well, you see,” he explained, “The rebellion caused great loss for everyone. So many people, loved ones, dead. Especially your family, unfortunately. I’ll never forgive him for his order of murder. When the king found out 3 Targaryens were still out in the world, he wanted you all dead. I wanted to prove to him that even though Areys was mad, that doesn’t mean you all don’t deserve to live. By taking you in and marrying one of my sons, we can show him that you are not our enemies. It took him a while to be fully convinced, but he agreed to let you live.”

”But, my eldest cousin,” Rhaella said. “He…he wants to take the seven kingdoms. I’m not sure how, but that is his plan.”

”I highly doubt he is a true threat,” Lord Stark said.

”you’re right,” she admitted. “He can be a big coward at times.”

That comment made him chuckle.

He has a nice smile, very warm and welcoming. Even though he did come off as cold before.

“Will I have to marry now?” Rhaella asked.

“Oh gods no!” He chuckled, “you are far too young, my son as well.”

“Will he like me?”

“I believe so, you have nothing to worry about. Bran is a good kid. He will treat you right.”

Once they made it through the gates, the carriage stopped. Lord Stark exited first so he could get the door for Rhaella. He gently held her hand as she took her steps down. Once Rhaella looked up from the steps, she saw the Stark family before her. Not letting go of her hand, Lord Stark approached his family to introduce their special guest.

“This is Rhaella Targaryen. As you all know, she will be with us now. Treat her as you would treat each other. If anyone disrespects her, let me know.”

They all nodded. A very handsome older boy approached her, “Hello, my lady, I am Robb,” he told her, “I hope you enjoy Winterfell and welcome!” Before walking away, he kissed her hand. That made Rhaella blush, “T-Thank you.” He had blue eyes and dark auburn hair. It was so dark you could barely tell if it was red. He had to have been the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen.

An older girl walked up to her gracefully, “Hello,” she smiled, “my name is Sansa. I hope we can grow to be like sisters! Maybe even brush each other’s hair, make dresses together, and so much more!” Rhaella gave a slight smile back, “I would love that!” Then a girl, who looked not too older than her, approached saying, “My name is Arya! Don’t worry, we don’t have to do girly stuff together. There are other ways to have fun!”

Then, she met Rickon, the youngest in the family, and their mother Lady Stark. “Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed, “aren't you just a lovely thing? Such a beauty.” Rhaella blushed at the compliment, thanking her.

She must be lying to me. I mean, just look at me! The journey to Westeros was so long that hair became wild and poofy.

”You must be frightened,” Lady Stark said. “Trust me, I never favored the cold myself. I still don’t, but you grow to appreciate it.”

Rhaella couldn’t keep her eyes off Lady Catelyn Stark’s features. Like Robb and Sansa, she had long auburn hair and pretty blue eyes. Her gown was also blue, making her eyes stand out even more.

“Where is Bran?” Lord Stark asked his wife.

“I told that boy to stop climbing,” she explained. “Brandon!”

“Sorry mother!” A voice yelled from above, “I’m coming down!”

When Rhaella looked up, she examined him. He looked to be the same age as her. He had dark brown hair and eyes with freckles on his face. He approached her and bowed, “Welcome to Winterfell, I hope you will take a liking to it.” “Thank you,” she replied.

The atmosphere quickly grew awkward. The two children didn’t know what to say to each other.

Lady Stark took Rhaella’s hand, “You must be exhausted, here, come with me.” She guided Rhaella to her bed chamber and had the handmaidens start a bath. After the bath, she laid on her bed for a quick nap.

After waking up, the handmaidens helped her get into a gown for dinner. The dress was purple with roses embroidered across the neckline. Then, they helped her with her hair. They clearly did not know what they were doing. They aren’t used to doing curly hair like Rhaella’s, but they managed to make something of it. They brushed out her curls, putting them in a half-up-half-down style. The ponytail was braided and put into a bun. After the handmaidens left the room, she looked at herself in the mirror.

I don’t even look like myself anymore.

Tears began to fill her eyes, I just want to go home.

She bolted out of the room, not knowing where she was going. She ran outside the big castle but didn’t dare to leave outside the castle walls. She eventually found an area that stood out to her. The whole vibe was strange as if something or someone was watching her. It was nothing but an old forest with no snow. In the middle of it, was a pool and a tree. A tree she’d never seen before. The huge tree was white with red leaves and a face carved into it. She stared deeply into the tree’s eyes for a while.

Is it staring back at me?

She snapped out of it, shaking her head, and climbed up the tree to sit on a huge branch.

Without Daenerys, I am lost. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying in the tree for, but she didn’t care. Winterfell wasn’t her home.

“Rhaella?” She heard a voice ask.

When she looked up, she saw Bran with a concerned look on his face, “w-why are you crying?”

She wiped her tears. “Sorry, I just miss my sister…how did you know I’d be here?”

“I like to go to the godswood, and climb up this tree,” he said. “Whenever I like to be alone and think. I’m sorry you had to leave your sister.”

“Well, she isn’t my sister, not really,” she admitted, wiping her face. “We are actually cousins. We just call each other sisters.”

He sat next to her, “my family was worried about you. They thought you might have ran away.” He nervously chuckled. “I…I know that we are to be married one day. The idea of marriage scares me.”

She doesn’t respond, only looking down at her hands as she fidgets with them. “I have something for you,” Bran showed her a beautiful blue flower. “That was the reason I was climbing.” He told her. “I wanted to give you something as a gift. I was going to give it to you at the dinner table but here. If I hurt your feelings not being there to greet you, I’m so sorry.” Rhaella took the flower and sniffed it.

“It’s called the winter rose,” he continued. “A rare flower that can grow around the castle.”

“It’s so beautiful,” she smiled. “Thank you.”

”You know, just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean we have to be in love right now or anything,” he said. “Let’s just be friends!”

”Yeah I’d like that!” She said.

”And just so you know,” he whispered. “I liked your hair better before. Your curly hair is much better.”

She laughed, “You and me both.”

”You’re laughing!”

”So?”

”This is your first time laughing here,” he said. “You have a nice smile.”

”Thanks, Bran,” she said. “You know, my eldest cousin ,Viserys, told me and Dany that you guys were evil monsters. But, you guys aren’t monstrous at all!”

Before Bran could respond, they both hear a voice from down below calling for Bran. An older boy who looked the same age as Robb. He was very handsome with black curls and dark eyes. “I found her Jon!” Bran shouted.

”Well, what are you sitting around for? They are all waiting for you two!” The two of them climbed down from the tree and walked with Jon.

“Forgive me, my name is Jon Snow,” he told Rhaella. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

”I never heard of the last name ‘snow’ before,” she confessed.

Bran began to explain, ”That last name actually means he’s a…well—”

”Bastard.” Jon said. His voice was cold and somber.

”I don’t know what that means,” Rhaella said. “But Viserys called me that sometimes, I assumed as an insult.”

”It means that my father, Lord Stark, had me with another woman. I wanted to meet you when you arrived, but Lady Stark thought it would be disrespectful.”

Rhaella couldn’t help but feel awful for him. There was something about Jon Snow that made him stand out. As if they had a connection. She wondered if Jon felt it too.

“You said that Viserys called us evil,” Bran said. “Then why did he want to send you away to us?”

“He hates me,” she answered. “He saw you guys as an opportunity to get rid of me…”

Once they all made it to the dining hall, all eyes were on Rhaella and Bran. “Well, aren’t you just beautiful?” Catelyn smiled. “Please, have a seat.” Bran escorted her to her chair and went back to his. Before Jon could leave the Hall, Rhaella asked, “Can Jon eat with us please?”

”Ah, I see you met him while you were gone,” Lord Stark said, amused. “Would him eating with us please you?”

Rhaella looked over at Jon, whose eyes lightened up. She looked back at Lord Stark and gave a nod. He looked over at Lady Stark, “What do you say?”

She looked into Rhaella’s sparkling eyes and sighed, “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

Rhaella gave a big smile. Jon pulled a chair next to her whispering, “Thank you Rhaella.”

“I hope you like the dress,” Sansa said. “I made it myself! I wanted to test my embroidery skills and decided to make you one!”

“It’s beautiful,” Rhaella told her. “You should teach me!” Sansa nodded gleefully.

“You know, we all thought you ran off and escaped!” Arya laughed.

“I…I didn’t mean any trouble or offense, I apologize.” Rhaella announced, standing up from her chair and bowing her head. “It was rude of me.”

“No,” Lord Stark said. “You have every right to feel the way you do. Your life changed right before your eyes. But please, believe me when I say this, we are here for you.”

“Aye.” Robb agreed. “If you are having trouble with anyone or anything let us know.” She thanked the both of them for their kindness.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was it like outside of Westeros?” Catelyn asked.

Rhaella told them everything. Even about the abuse Viserys had done to her. He always yelled at her for the littlest things. The worst thing he ever did was sneak into her bedchamber with a knife. He threatened to cut out her insides if she didn’t cooperate with his plan to send her to the North.

They all had concerned looks on their faces. The abuse never got to her until explaining it out loud. She really did have it rough.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Arya said. “You are with us now!”

“Safe and sound,” Sansa added.

Rhaella didn’t realize she was smiling.

”So, Rhaella…you said you were from the Summer Isles right?” Theon asked.

“Yes, why you ask?”

He smirked at Robb before asking, “I heard the women there are quite breathtakingly beautiful?” She could have sworn she heard him whisper “and have nice bodies.”

”Well, I’ve never actually stayed there, I had to flee because of the King,” she explained. “But from the books I’ve read and from what I heard from some servants in Pentos, yes, the women there are quite beautiful.”

”I also heard that they have a passion for love making,” he said. “Maybe I gotta visit there sometime-.”

”Theon!” Lady Stark snapped. “Don’t be disrespectful-.”

”Oh that’s okay!” Rhaella reassured her. “You’re right, Theon! They do have a passion for it. If I were to stay in the Isles, I would have been a prostitute myself!”

Sansa and Lady Stark almost choked on their food, as Robb, Theon, and Jon bursted out laughing at the table. She didn’t understand what was so funny, but she laughed along with them.

”What’s a prostitute?” Rickon asked, innocently. That made the boys start crying from laughter. Theon even fell out of his chair.

”Y-You’ll know when you’re older!” Lady Stark said.

”You’ll fit in with us just fine, child,” Lord Stark said. “Welcome to the family!”

°❀⋆Daenerys.ೃ࿔*:･

Daenerys never felt more lonely. She missed Rhaella, her real family. She’d never forgive her brother for what he did.

“Daenerys!” Viserys shouted.

He entered her bed chamber, “do not tell me you’re still upset about that savage.”

She felt rage enter her body as he said those words. “She is not a savage, she’s my sister,” she replied softly. “And I don’t understand why you sent her to our enemies.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “We both know that’s not true. She’s our cousin. Daughter of our uncle and whatever foreign whore he married. She’s not a pure Targaryen like us, Dany. And she never will be. I gave her away because we need allies, even if they are enemies. The Starks are a strong house, and I knew that Lord Stark would gladly take her in. The fool won’t even know of my plans to destroy him and his dear friend Robert.”

Daenerys always considered Rhaella her sister, even if it wasn’t true. They spent all of their time together, never leaving one’s side. It felt like it was yesterday, the day Rhaella arrived in Braavos as a baby. Viserys wanted nothing to do with her while Daenerys cherished her. She had no idea why Viserys was so upset about naming their cousin after their mother. It was only a name after all. She always thought it was much deeper than Rhaella being a “savage.” She never dared to ask him though.

“I have good news.” He announced. She examined his face, his grin looked devious. Truly it wasn’t good news. “I found you a husband,” he said. “His name is Khal Drogo, Magister Illyrio said. A Dothraki savage. When you two wed, I’ll have his army. We can finally go home, sweet sister.”

Home.

All she ever wanted was a home. A home with Rhaella, where they could finally be happy together. With her gone, Daenerys wasn’t sure if it would be home without her.

“And what about her?” She asked him.

“The savage?” He scoffed. “Those Starks have her now. I don’t care what they do to her. As long as we have our alliance with the North.”

Daenerys wanted to cry, but she stayed strong. I will meet her again, one day.

°❆⋆Bran ೃ࿔*:･

It had only been a couple of months, but for Bran, it felt like he had known Rhaella his whole life. Rhaella also grew close to his sisters but mostly Arya. The three of them were inseparable. Rhaella even taught them some of the Valyrian language. Some nights, the three of them would stay up and read history books about Targaryen history until they got caught by the Septa. For fun, they liked to go sledding and have snowball fights. The older Stark boys and Rickon joined them sometimes, but never Sansa. Ever since Rhaella arrived, Sansa and Arya fought less. It’s like wherever she went, she spread joy. That’s one of the traits Bran liked about her.

Now, everyone is preparing for the arrival of the King.

He overheard his father saying that the King was almost there. Bran felt sorry for Rhaella because she was so stressed out. “What will he do to me?” She asked. He always reassured her, “You are under our protection now, the King approved of you. Don’t worry about a thing.”

At that moment, it was time for Bran to practice his archery. He hasn’t been getting any better. He wanted to show his family he could hit the bull’s eye. First, only Robb was watching him. Then, came Jon and Rickon. Before he knew it, his parents came to watch as well.

“Keep practicing, Bran,” Lord Stark insisted. “Go on.”

Jon leaned in towards Bran, placing his hand on his shoulder, “Alright, father is watching.”

Jon looks over and sees Rhaella and Arya watching as well, “and her…” he whispered.

Bran took a deep gulp. He didn’t like to get teased about Rhaella. They only do it because we are to be married. We are just friends, good friends.

Bran nodded and started to aim his bow and arrow at his target.

“Relax your bow arm…” Robb commented.

Just before Bran could release the arrow, someone else’s hits the target and another shoots right through it.

All of the boys turned their heads to see Rhaella and Arya giggling. “Hey!” Bran yelled. The girls both curtseyed but quickly took off once they saw Bran chasing them. The kids kept on playing until their father took all of the boys to see an execution. Bran was finally old enough to see one.

“Are you scared?” Rhaella asked him as he was mounting his pony.

“I’m not sure.” He answered honestly.

But I can’t be afraid. My father told me I won’t be a boy forever. I’ll be a man-grown soon. I mustn’t be afraid. I need to be brave. Like Robb and Jon. Wolves are never afraid.

Taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea

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bruhstories · 1 year ago

Text

anything for you

summary: tom loses his virginity on his eighteenth birthday pairing: tom riddle x afab!oc (both of age) warnings: loss of male virginity, oral sex (m and f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, curse words, descriptions of oc's hair and eye colours w/c: exactly 4,999 words!

a/n: i just needed to get this rubbish out of my head. made up an oc just because i wanted to write in 3rd person so y'all can pretend it's y/n for all i care lol. crossposted on ao3

Tom had never been the type of person to concern himself with desires of the flesh. While most of his peers turned into hormonal teenagers over summer and experimented with women, or men, Tom preferred to stimulate his mind. That did not mean that he couldn't appreciate beauty. He looked at women the way one would look at a sculpture — with awe and desire, but without touching.

Yes, Tom Riddle was a virgin. An eighteen-year old virgin surrounded by horny teens bordering adulthood. Whenever his friends (they weren't friends) tried to set him up for a date, he would never show up, despite knowing that there were lots of young women at Hogwarts infatuated with him. No, Tom had other pressing matters on his mind, goals and ambitions he couldn't afford to lose by being distracted by some scatterbrained girl.

However, to say that Tom wasn't interested in a certain girl would be a lie. She was exquisite and extraordinary. A pureblood with the face of an angel and the mind of a devil, who looked like a woman but thought like a man. Valerie Rosier, with eyes as black as Tom's soul, captivated the young wizard. He wasn't enamoured with her, for he couldn't feel love, but there was a certain obsession Tom felt for the witch, courtesy of his mother. Only he didn't need to use any spells or potions to compel Valerie to love him, because she was already a devoted follower.

Fixated on blood purity, on power and immortality, she was the perfect partner in crime, as muggles liked to say, and she was the perfect woman to take Tom's last shred of innocence. The wizard wanted to experience the pleasures of the flesh before splitting his soul in so many pieces, for he was afraid he couldn't feel a thing if he lost his virginity after creating his Horcruxes. Granted, he had committed his first murder a year before, but he was still human — weak and mortal.

Tom didn't have many friends. He didn't believe in the concept of friendship, but Valerie was his closest confidante. She was the only one who truly believed in him, who encouraged him to become stronger, smarter. She was willing to commit all kinds of despicable atrocities for him, because behind every powerful Dark Wizard was a cunning, conniving Dark Witch.

It was his eighteenth birthday when Tom asked Valerie to find him in his separate dormitory, a privilege of being Head Boy, for a chat. And while the witch cared little for celebrations, she did bring Tom a gift. A beautiful wand handle, with snakes carved in the dark, almost black wood, and small emeralds in place of their eyes.

"A present? For me?" He was not surprised, despite the puzzled look on his face.

"You deserve more than that." Valerie combed through her silky black locks.

In the dim light of his bedroom, she looked almost ethereal, like a phantom coming to haunt him. And she did haunt his mind a lot lately. Tom inspected the gift, his long slender fingers probing the intricate carvings of the handle. He'd never received a present for his birthday. In a different life, he'd probably be happy, give her a hug and thank her. Not in this life.

"I need to ask you something. A favour of sorts." Tom placed the gift on his nightstand.

It's not as if he didn't appreciate it, but he didn't need it. And he doesn't want what he doesn't need.

"Anything." Valerie rushed to speak, and Tom enjoyed her eagerness. He only hoped she was eager to please him in more ways than one.

"You know what I intend to do after graduation." He eyed her and she looked at him with fire in her eyes.

If there was one thing Tom truly liked about Valerie, it was her understanding of him without needing more words. She was a competent witch — if he told her to do something, she would do it without questioning him. She remembered everything he said, every detail of every plan, unlike Malfoy or Flint, who forgot even the simplest instructions.

Valerie nodded — Tom would seek immortality, and she would be by his side to aid him. She was wickedly fascinated by that subject, despite being aware that wizards and witches lived a much longer life than humans. It wasn't enough.

"I want to experience one thing beforehand." Tom calmly said, disturbed by how tight her skirt was. Every time she crossed one leg over the other, the skirt would just go higher up her thighs. He wondered if she was wearing any underwear before shaking the animalistic thought out of his head.

She knew.

From how he looked at her, Valerie knew what he meant, and she was ready to give herself to him. She had never been a saint, losing her virginity to the Lestrange boy in Year 5, then fooling around with either him or Avery, or both, in Year 6. And Tom knew that. He didn't mind it, as long as she kept them focused, but he couldn't deny a slight jealousy. He wished he was her first, but was somewhat grateful he wasn't, because that meant Valerie had much more experience, and it wouldn't be awkward.

Of course, Tom read about sex. Curiosity boiled in his veins, that was both his biggest quality, and his worst flaw. He even took it so far as to read muggle books on the topic. But it was all very scientific, an encyclopaedia of reproduction, with no regards to pleasure. Tom hoped he would understand why his little gang was so distracted.

"What will you have me do?" Valerie crossed her legs again, and again that damned skirt moved up.

Oh, she knew exactly how to phrase her sentences and questions. She didn't ask what he wanted, or what the favour was, but instead what he wanted her to do, like a good, obedient slave. Tom adored that about her, because unlike his mindless peers, she followed him, while also keeping her personality and independence. It was as if whatever he wanted her to do, she wanted to do as well. Like two different people with the same soul and brain.

With knitted brows, Tom pondered over his choice of words. He didn't want her to feel like a cheap whore, although he had a hunch she liked feeling that way, and that thought both bothered and excited him.

"I want you to be my first intimate partner." He finally said, picking his words very carefully. "Before I achieve immortality, I would like to experience this human feeling first."

She always imagined him to be dominant and in control, and so it was a bit of a shock for Valerie to realise that Tom never had sex before. No, she half-expected him to be a womaniser, to flirt with girls and get what he wanted, maybe even seduce muggles before killing them.

"As you wish." Valerie tugged at the hem of her skirt before pulling it up, but Tom stopped her.

"No, not like that." His hand rushed to hers, stopping her from doing anything. "There was a term I read about in a muggle book… foreplay, I believe it was called."

"Ah!" She grinned at him, already feeling her cunt hot. "My apologies, I thought you wanted to get it over and done with."

"I'd like to be entertained first." Tom removed his hands from her body, awkwardly expecting something, he just didn't know what exactly.

"Have you kissed someone before?" Valerie asked, loosening her tie only a little. She felt very, very hot.

"Once. I can't remember her name." He admitted without a shred of remorse. It wasn't a particularly significant moment in his life, and the kiss itself wasn't memorable.

"Then, may I kiss you?"

Tom nodded. He felt her move closer to him and instinctively closed his eyes. Valerie placed a shy kiss on his cheek, then on the corner of his mouth before finally crushing his lips under hers. And Tom could feel his temperature raise when she feverishly pried open his mouth with her tongue. He admitted to himself that his first kiss paled in comparison to this one. He even enjoyed it when she took his bottom lip between her teeth.

Tom couldn't stop his hands when they began to freely roam her back, wrapping an arm around her waist while hers slithered under his robe, pushing it off his shoulders. And he didn't protest when Valerie straddled him, desperately kissing him and grinding against the growing bulge in his trousers.

So that was foreplay, a sort of preparation for the upcoming intimate moment. He understood now, and he unclasped her robe, letting it silently fall behind her, on the floor. Valerie's hands worked on untying his tie, then unbuttoning his shirt. Tom did the same, a little too eager for his own taste. He didn't enjoy giving in to earthly pleasures, but he knew he could do it with her. She wasn't like the rest of them. She never judged him, never questioned him, never doubted him.

Valerie finally leaned back, allowing her and Tom some time to breathe. But his breathing stopped for a second when he saw her white lace bra displayed in front of his eyes. It looked expensive, and it probably was considering how wealthy her family was. He wondered if it matched the rest of her undergarments.

"May I touch you?" Tom found himself asking. Although he didn't normally ask for permission, he found it proper to do so in that context.

"Please, please do touch me!" She whined with ardour.

He nodded and clumsily felt her shoulders and upper arms, as if he didn't dare to move any lower than that. Valerie chuckled at his attempt, placing her hand on his.

"Like this." She whispered, pressing his hand down her collarbone and guiding it lower, until his fingers brushed over her still clothed chest. "Take it off, Tom, please."

How dare she tell him what to do? And worse, why was he so compelled to listen? He wasn't under the Imperius Curse, nor did he ingest Amortentia, yet there he was, hunched over her shoulder, unclasping her bra. She smelled so good, like roses and lavender, and he buried his nose in her hair.

There was no spell — he truly wanted her.

Once her shirt and bra were off, tossed somewhere in his room, Tom looked at her bare chest in awe. He had only seen naked women in paintings and sculptures, and they were beautiful, but she was superior.

He didn't ask for permission this time, instead he took her nipples in his fingers, pinching and twisting them with curiosity. Every action of his earned a reaction from her, and Valerie didn't shy away from moaning and wriggling in his lap. And by the look on her face, whatever he was doing, he was doing it right.

In exchange, she took his shirt off, still grinding against his clothed cock for an ounce of friction, and kissed his neck, sometimes digging her teeth into his porcelain skin. Tom growled. He had never made such a sound before, but he enjoyed it every time she bit him, leaving him wanting more, he just didn't know what yet.

"I want, oh- I want to pleasure you. Please, may I?" Valerie said against his skin, and he nodded. Tom didn't know exactly what she meant, but he assumed it was time for sexual intercourse.

She got up from his lap and kneeled down on the floor, between his legs. He cautiously watched her every move, because this wasn't in the books, and when Valerie took notice of the confused look on his face, she smiled.

"Do you trust me?" Her voice was soothing, yet he felt like he was being lured in a trap.

Tom didn't trust anyone but himself, but curiosity got the better of him again, and he nodded. With his consent, Valerie proceeded to unbuckle his belt, then unbutton his trousers. He was already so hard, she licked her lips in anticipation, ready to devour him, and while the lust in her eyes didn't make him afraid, it did make him feel slightly on edge, because he didn't know what she was about to do. And he didn't like not knowing.

Valerie pulled down his trousers and underwear, marvelling at the size of his cock. How was he so big, yet so inexperienced? Clearly he didn't know what advantage he possessed with that instrument of both pleasure, and torture. Tom only realised what was about to happen when she parted her luscious lips open, and a sudden feeling of disgust flushed through his body. She really was a cheap whore, he thought, until she took him in her mouth, and his muscles suddenly relaxed. His disgust was quickly, too quickly, replaced by pure pleasure.

Bobbing her head up and down, she dug her fingernails into his thighs, clearly bothered by the strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Tom felt the need to help her, and he gathered her hair into a bunch in his hand, holding it back while she sucked him so good. To his surprise, Valerie moaned against his cock, enjoying the act herself. What pleasure could she possibly feel if she was the one pleasing him? It angered him, made his blood boil, and in a fit of irrational rage, he pushed her head down, hitting the back of her throat with the tip of his cock.

He held her like that for some time, until he realised she was choking on his cock, her fingernails drawing blood from his skin. Tom released her, shocked by how weak humans were. There was a newfound power in him, power that he held over her. Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears, and she coughed and gasped for air. Was she crying? No. Someone like her couldn't cry. They were tears of bliss.

"Again!" Valerie greedily took him in her mouth.

"Fuck." Tom whispered. He wasn't one to cuss, but it was the first word that came into his mind when he felt her tongue swirl around the tip of his cock. "Ugh, you're a filthy whore, aren't you?" He looked down at her, revelling in the power imbalance.

She was a sight for sore eyes, half-naked, between his legs and with his cock in her mouth. And Valerie wouldn't have it any other way. Granted, she'd been fucked better by other boys, but to have Tom Riddle all to herself was a privilege. He had ambitions others could only dream of, and she wanted to be by his side when he achieved them. She wanted him to succeed, to purge the wizarding world of its stain.

Looking up at him with doe eyes, Valerie leaned back, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. She spat on his cock, and Tom scoffed at the vulgar gesture, yet he still didn't protest, nor did he want her to stop. Embarrassingly, he could feel himself closer to his climax.

"Not just any whore." Valerie barked back. "Your whore."

There it was again, the way she got under his skin with honeyed words and pleading eyes. But she meant it. She didn't want anyone but him. She wanted to belong to him.

"Then suck." Tom demanded, and she obeyed.

He couldn't tell where all that confidence came from. Normally he would manipulate or blackmail people to do what he wanted, but perhaps adrenaline kicked in, because pleasure and anger bubbled inside of him, and without a warning, he came into her mouth, panting and sweating, despite not moving a muscle.

Tom watched her with an arched brow, watched her swallow every drop of his seed, and he wondered what he tasted like. He grabbed her by the back of her neck and crushed her lips in a needy kiss.

Bitter. Everything about him was bitter, and while he scrunched his nose at the taste, she loved it.

It wasn't what Tom expected, and couldn't deny that he thought he'd last longer than that. He wasn't ashamed, but rather disappointed in himself.

"I'll give you a moment to collect yourself before carrying on." Valerie nonchalantly said, as if she didn't just have his cock in her mouth.

"Carry on?" Tom spoke without thinking, intrigued by her. She truly was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Do you not wish to carry on?" She asked, almost offended.

He placed his thumb and index finger on his chin, deep in thought. Of course he wanted to carry on, but he couldn't be desperate. Tom had to choose his words carefully, he couldn't let her have the upper hand. Valerie had already demonstrated that she wouldn't betray him long before this moment, but one could never be too sure.

"Very well." He finally said. "What shall we do, then? It will take some time for me to… recover."

It was her turn to ponder over his question, head slightly tilted like a confused dog. Then she smiled, and Tom knew that smile all too well. It meant she had a twisted idea brewing in her mind.

"Would you like to touch me? For scientific purposes, I mean." Valerie got up from the floor, stretching her legs.

"Scientific purposes?" He repeated. The books never mentioned anything about touching a woman. "Elaborate."

"Well," she began, lifting her skirt enough to expose her thigh-high stocking and garterbelt, "women do enjoy sex. Men don't like to talk about that, they want to keep us pure and virginal."

Ah! It finally clicked that he read something about a bundle of nerves called the clitoris, and that it can be stimulated. He watched her remove her stocking, and only then did Tom realise he was about to see her fully naked. There was very little left for his imagination, and his flaccid cock twitched. Perhaps he didn't need as much time as he thought.

"I suppose I might find myself in a situation where I would have to please women." Tom nodded. "Very well, teach me."

It bothered Valerie to hear that, for she hoped she would be his only lover, but of course, Tom would become invincible, he could have anyone he wanted, and she had to come to terms with that. She fluffed the pillow on his bed and sat down, back against it.

"Women like tenderness, they are romantic beings. They like to feel loved, even if they aren't." Valerie explained. "Our bodies work differently when we aren't coerced to be intimate. That's what foreplay is for."

"I see." Tom watched her get comfortable on his bed.

"Go on, touch me. I shall let you know if you're on the right track, but you'll probably know from how I act." She bit her lower lip in anticipation.

Tom was clever enough to know that he shouldn't violently grab her body, although there was a voice in his head that told him she might like it. He ignored the voice, and placed a kiss on her shoulder, lying next to her. His fingers ghosted over her abdomen, moving up and down, as if he didn't want to let her know where it would go next. Goosebumps dotted her skin, and Tom took it as a sign of doing the right thing, before he cupped her breasts with both of his hands. He froze, because his instinct told him to do something he wasn't sure was proper.

"Don't stop." Valerie assured him, as if reading her mind, and Tom gave in to his instinct, taking one of her hard nipples in his mouth.

She arched her back, and he finally knew what she meant by what she said. Her body responded to his touches, and again, his cock twitched. Tom was surprisingly enjoying seeing her wriggle and writhe under him, and he took it a step further by moving his hand down her body, to her thigh, pushing it onto the mattress to spread her legs. He didn't want to seem eager, but his own body betrayed him when he felt himself growing harder.

Tom moved his hand up her thigh, up to her hip, where he stopped to pull down her skirt and underwear. He didn't care anymore if it matched her bra.

"It's alright if you want to look." She purred, a hint of desperation in her voice.

He pulled his mouth away from her chest and shifted his weight to take a good look at her, and she was divine. Legs spread, she didn't have a single hair on her cunt, and Tom was dumbfounded. She found his curiosity amusing, and she sat up to kiss him. He kissed her back with more passion than before, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed perfect, he just couldn't bring himself to ever love her. She knew, and she was fine with that.

"Use your fingers." She instructed him.

With his newfound confidence and passion, Tom grazed over her slit with his fingertips, marvelling at just how hot she was to the touch. He even wondered if she had a fever before sliding two fingers past her folds. The intrusion made her cunt clench around his fingers, and Tom's breath got caught in his throat when he realised she would clench like that around his cock. She was wet, hot and velvety, and it was a feeling he had never experienced before.

"Oh, fuck, just like that!" Valerie grabbed the sheets in her fists when he moved his fingers in and out of her aching cunt.

It was extraordinary to hear her moan and groan, to watch her roll her eyes and arch her back, all because of him. And Tom couldn't get over how wet she was. He read about it, about how women naturally produce a lubricant, and it truly was fascinating to experience this first-hand. The more she chanted his name, the more Tom's cock hardened, and he was ready to give in to temptation. He pulled his fingers out, and he was fixated on tasting her. Would she taste bitter, just like him?

Curiosity was in his nature, and sometimes he couldn't fight it. Tom popped his index finger in his mouth, and Valerie was stunned to see him taste her slick. She was sweet, like nectar, and he wanted more. She knew he wanted more by the look in his eyes, predatory and obsessive and downright deranged.

"Tom." Valerie propped herself on her elbow and squeezed her thighs together, wanting to talk some sense into him.

"You did it to me, allow me to return the favour." He said, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"It's not that I don't want it." She told him, and that made him even more eager to devour her cunt. "But I don't deserve it."

"That's ridiculous." Tom scoffed.

"I am beneath you, Tom. You are on a path to become the greatest wizard of all time. You can't be doing these degrading things." Valerie gasped when he forced open her legs.

"It's still for scientific purposes." He sneered at her. "And you are right, I am on a path to become the greatest dark wizard of all time. So, you shouldn't be disobeying me."

Valerie mentally scolded herself for even daring to talk back to him. He was right, he should take whatever he wanted, and if he wanted to taste her, then so be it. Apologies spilled from her lips, and she leaned back on the pillow while Tom forced open her legs and buried his face between them. He didn't care about gently touching her anymore, he was far too hungry for such formalities.

Pressing his tongue against her slit, Tom lazily dragged it up, pushing one finger into her, and she arched her back, muttering a string of obscene words she knew he didn't like. But at that moment, in that context, he didn't want her to shut up. Her reaction made him lap at her cunt, pumping his finger in and out of her until her legs trembled. Then he added another finger, and he curled them up, feeling her velvety walls clench around them.

"Tom, I- fuck! I'm so close!" Valerie cried out, grateful for the silencing charm he placed in his room beforehand.

Then he stopped.

Just as she was about to come, he stopped and pulled his fingers out, watching her wriggle in anguish and anger. Now that was power, Tom thought. To have her cry tears of pain, although he hadn't hurt her in the slightest, that made him feel good.

"No, you're not finishing like that." He said, grabbing her by her wrist and pulling her up from his bed.

Confused, and slightly annoyed, Valerie allowed herself to be dragged to the velvet sofa in his bedroom, where he sat down. He was ready.

"I want you in my lap." Tom leaned back, getting comfortable.

"You want me to ride you?" She arched a brow, not questioning him, rather asking for permission.

"Is that what it's called?" He scoffed at the term. How vulgar. "Yes, I want you to ride me." Tom assured her.

"Very well." Valerie nodded, climbing into his lap, knees to the sides of his hips.

She kissed him first, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her hot cunt against his cock. Grinding against it, she rolled her hips, doing everything in her power to make him feel good. And Tom was feeling good, but he was also impatient. His hand slithered up her thigh, over her firm ass, before resting on the small of her back.

"You're stalling." He said, venom dripping down his tongue.

"I merely want to treat you like a king." Valerie whispered into his ear, pressing her hips harder against his. "You deserve to be adored, worshiped."

"Is that so?" Tom almost didn't believe her.

"I want to be there when you achieve greatness." She was wet, coating his cock in her slick without even having her in him.

"I suppose you proved yourself competent enough." He shrugged. It was his way of complimenting her.

Valerie took the backhanded compliment with a smile, knowing that no one ever got so close to him as she did. She even dared to think she was one of his favourites.

"I want to be yours, my lord." She said, finally sliding his cock inside, sinking lower in his lap.

Oh, it felt divine, delicious, delirious. She was tight, perfectly taking him in, and Tom couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips. It brought a grin to her beautiful face. Valerie placed her hands on his chest for support, bouncing up and down, rolling her hips, whimpering and chanting his name like a prayer. Her eyes were filled with tears of bliss, pleasure shooting through her body like electricity. And her face was something that would forever be ingrained on his retina.

"So big!" She cried out, feeling his cock stretch her out in ways other men could only dream of. "So good."

Tom wasn't someone who expressed his feelings verbally, but even he groaned, digging his fingers in the plush of her hips. She fucked him like it was her last day on Earth, pressing her chest against his, and Tom took the opportunity to hold her in place. Valerie didn't protest, letting him do as he pleased, which was to thrust into her relentlessly and violently. It was a good thing she sucked his cock before, because he could feel himself lasting longer.

"Tell me." Tom said, beads of sweat glistening on his skin. "Tell me you want me."

"I do!" Valerie said without hesitation. "I want you for eternity. Oh, fuck, I need you!"

He enjoyed hearing those words, to feel adored, and he realised that it was better for some people to love him rather than fear him. Or at least one person. One was enough, as long as she would always be there for him.

Tom shifted his weight and pushed Valerie on the sofa, so he could be on top of her, his cock still deep in her cunt. He found her eyes, and they were honest. He knew she wouldn't lie. She couldn't lie to him, despite her filling people's heads with sweet nothings. But everything she told him was the purest truth.

"Fuck-" Tom growled, still in shock at how well she took him. No, she was made for him.

"Please don't ever leave me." Valerie said, completely vulnerable and to his mercy.

"I won't." He didn't lie. While he hated to admit it, he needed her just as much, albeit not showing it.

She was useful to him, and that was the reason he needed her, but Tom also didn't want to be alone. Not anymore. Because behind every dark wizard should be an even darker witch, twisted and deranged, just like him.

Valerie wrapped her legs around his waist, breath hitching and heart racing in her chest. She was close, and she was determined to finish this time. Tom couldn't think anymore, not when bliss took over, and he pressed his forehead against hers, legs quaking, while he frantically and brutally thrusted into her.

He finished inside of her, and she came on his cock, and they both felt like there was molten lava in their veins. Bodies burning, muscles aching, they laid there together, with Tom weighing down on her. He was heavier than he looked, but it comforted her. It was safe to say that Tom was a changed man after that night. Same goals, same ambitions, but with a loyal woman that would kill for him in the blink of an eye.

"I want you to break your soul into a million pieces for me." He said, pushing strands of hair out of her face.

"Anything for you, my lord.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle smut #harry potter

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drachonia · 3 months ago

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Multi-Villains x OC Inserts (Fluff)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: a welcome home embrace from a few OC inserts that have been on my mind lately or will be featured in my posts for October this year. some fluff for everyone.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: just fluff and a lil bit of blood/wound description.

William It was rare night that Elisabeth’s protection was needed. A disgruntled count managed to pull a gun on the group that had been dispatched for the evening’s mission, and his lover had reacted faster than he did, pulling him down in time but managing to get a bullet lodged in deep in her arm as a result.

One painful bullet dissection later and William was carrying her down the hall to his room. Her lovely eyes suddenly fluttered open as he opened the door to slip inside, then pushed it shut behind him with his foot.

“Mnn, Will?” She glanced up at him, her fingers sinking into his lapels, just over his rapidly beating heart. He pulled back the quilt of the bed with one hand and lowered her back onto the bed gingerly with the other, pressing a kiss to her forehead amongst her dark curls.

“We’re back at Crown?…how long was I out.”

Instead of answering, William gave a gentle smile, brushing her cheek as he sat beside her in bed, “My darling knight, my sweet lover…” he murmured reverently, pressing a tender kiss to her lips as her eyes begged for his attention.

“….Welcome back.”

Harrison Harrison wiped his hands on his pants with a light sigh as he made it a point to stick to London’s shadows during and after a mission until it was light once more. Out of habit, he strode down her street, glancing up to see that the cafe’s warm light was still very much burning long past midnight.

“I should go back.” He sighed, but despite his lone words, his feet thumped against the street as he made his way to the door, lightly pushing against it and entering with the quiet ding of the bell, seeing Jesse hustling behind the counter, only to pause when she heard the chime.

Her fluffy red hair stopped bouncing with movement, hazel eyes narrowing happily as she put down the prepped pastry in her hands and bounding around the corner to run and jump into his arms, legs wrapped around his midsection as he caught her with an ‘oof!’

“Missed ya.” She nuzzled him with a sigh of content, her fingers threading possessively through his milk-and-tea locks. Harry couldn’t resist the urge to press a trail of kisses up the side of her neck, drawing a giggle from her as she tugged at his jacket.

“Care to test some sweets for tomorrow?” Her expression matched his as she gazed at him with gentle eyes.

“I’d love to.”

Ellis Nerves wracked him slightly as he waited at the entrance to Crown, sitting and tapping his foot on the hard floor. There was no mission tonight but Bryn was out late with her family for once, something Ellis wanted to give her some space with.

Seeing her as she opened the door, a soft smile on her face, he stood and made his way to her in only a few strides, sweeping her up in his arms and nuzzling his face in her neck. Her heart beat with his at a quick, excited pace.

“How did it go?” He whispered, grip tightening around her waist as he stared up at her with tender eyes. The smile that he got in response melted his insides with how sweet it was, feeling its warmth in the flush of his own cheeks.

“Good! Emile wanted to talk business, thank goodness Sveta and Thomas kept him from it. Camille didn’t ask me to say hello to Jude for once which is a bit odd, but…sisters, what can you do?” She smiled, looking up at him with a sigh. Words bubbled out of his throat, soft and happy.

“Welcome back. I missed you.”

Jude He walked down to that one street corner near the harbor, a calm settling in his bones for once as he put out his cigarette. His fingertips lightly scratched the barrier as he sat there.

“Tch. What are ya doing…” he muttered to himself, stretching his neck as a pair of heels approached him in the night, their owner coming into the light of the street lamps with her ink black hair shimmering beneath. Pale periwinkle eyes met his as she approached him.

“So now you’ll talk to me.”

He scoffed, a sarcastic smirk on his face “If you’re gonna be an inconsiderate princess, do ya really wanna talk.”

“My apologies Mr. Jazza.” She gave a mock curtsy, her own grin tugging at her lips, he took note that they were neatly painted a shade he imagined wasn’t so far from her actual lip color…and then he immediately smacked himself internally for thinking about such a thing.

“Welcome back, princess, ‘know you said you’d be out on business, didn’t think you’d come back so soon.” He started off sweet, but ended on his usual sour, sarcastic notes. With gentle eyes and a shy but happy smile, she looked up at him. What Camille said next as she stood next to him threw him for a loop.

“Glad to be back, I missed your company.”

“Tch. Damn princess…”

Alfons Another mission turned messy. The gore never really phased Alfons, honestly, the reality of such violent acts were etched into his psyche by now. Ugh, he craved an escape again. When would he be able to rest, he wondered? The man sighed heavily as he walked in Crown castle’s doors, loosening his cravat with an annoyed grimace. Surely she wouldn’t want to see—

“Alfons!”

Oh hell.

That familiar wave of hair flashed in front of him, her body colliding against his chest as she threw her arms around his neck tight.

“Darling, I am terribly filthy. Surely you can see that?”

“Mhm. I dont care.” She huffed happily next to his ear, nuzzling her chin atop his shoulder as the mud and blood slowly soaked into her pale blue dress. He couldn’t help but smile weakly, tightening his grip on her waist as he held her just a bit closer. His heart ached sweetly and his fingers tightened their grip on her as he managed a soft sigh, whether it was from exasperation or pleasure he didn’t know.

“Ah. I see.”

Nika A very noticeable copper odor was present among Nika’s cologne this evening, white jacket sprayed with a fresh layer of blood on one side as he ran a hand through his hair. The mission this evening was nothing fun, unfortunately, but he knew something else could be.

Just then, the clack of heels caught his attention, head snapping up slightly to see his partner walking down the hall toward him with a severe look on her face. He was about try and to duck out of her grasp when her soft hands drew him in close by the jaw and a cloying kiss pulled him right back.

Lips left his with a faint noise and Nika glanced down at her with slightly narrowed eyes, silently asking her what she did that for.

“I’m happy you’re home safe, liebling.” The pink that heated up his cheeks was something he tried to hide as he nuzzled into her neck and shoved off his jacket as he drew her in, eagerly pressing kisses to her cheeks and neck as Sigrid protested with light thumps to his chest. Her half-hearted curses filled the entryway as he held her to his chest tight and peppered her in all the kisses he could muster.

Darius The gentle clack of a metal cane on wooden floors caught Evelyn’s attention almost instantly as she jumped up from her seat and ran toward the door.

“Welcome back!” She beamed, reaching her hands up to gently cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss, one that the blonde happily returned two times over, pulling away to a breathless and slightly flustered lover.

“How cute, that flustered face never ceases to delight.” He cradled her chin between his thumb and forefinger with a confident glint in his eyes,

“Ahem.”

The two looked up to see Nika with a slightly more reserved look than usual as he stared over at Darius, “I don’t mind seeing the little bird dote on you, — it’s quite cute — but I don’t think Ring can handle much more of it.” He jerked a thumb over to where the younger Schwartz twin had both eyes covered with his big hands, parting a couple fingers to check if the displays of affection were over yet before hiding again.

“Ah. Then excuse us.” Darius beamed, a slight edge to that gentle smile as he lightly spun his lover by the waist, “I can check on my beloved fairy in private.” He murmured only for her to hear, lips ghosting her ear as he watched Eve turn bright red with a seemingly innocent smile as they walked up the stair.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #drac writes #ikevil william #ikevil harrison #ikevil ellis #ikevil jude #ikevil alfons #ikevil nika #ikevil darius

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litnerdwrites · 6 months ago

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I was out all day yesterday, so I couldn't upload it then, so here it is now. Day seven, extended version. I do have plans to make this a series, and once I have all three series planned out, I'll be sure to ask who's you want to see first. Be sure to look out for more Euphemia content until then too. On a side note, did anyone see Kerri's stories, where she was scrolling through the first few pages of Throne of Secrets. We got a glimpse at the first couple of pages and honestly, ever teaser just makes me more impatient to read it.

This is probably my favourite piece, and the longest that I've written. Even though it's extended, there's so much more that I wanted to add, that I'll probably put into the series. I really loved writing Lust, and trying to balance gentle, romantic side with his lustful, jovial one. Although, I don't think there was much room for the latter here but I'll be sure to give it ago in the series. What are some of your favourite Lust moments from the trilogy? Let me know! @princeofsinweek

Day 7: Lust/Lover

Speak Now - Lust x OC

WC:4,077

TW: Almost forced marriage, abuse (father striking his daughter, plus forced fiancé hurting bride), mentioned death of a parent, mentioned canon typical violence.

Amara was stone faced as her ladies maids tittered around her, tugging, tucking and tidying up her hair in preparation. They had tried to make smalltalk at first, but when she didn’t respond, they quickly gave up.

She wanted to grimace at her reflection. She wanted to tear the pins and veil from her hair. She wanted to smear the makeup from her face, even if she had to break a few nails and tear her skin to do it. She wanted to rip the silk and lace from her body, and throw it to the pigs.

She wanted to run.

But she couldn’t.

All because she had nowhere to go. Noone to turn to.

The gown itself was classic. An a-line gown made of silk, with a sweetheart neckline, and thick lace sleeves. The ivy patterned lace reached right to where her neck met her head, and somehow managed to irritate her skin. Yet, despite her growing discomfort, she remained like a statue, even as the maids began wondering if she even lived or not.

“You will wed the Prince, and you will finally make yourself useful to me,”

Even as it echoed in her own mind, her father’s voice remained harsh, arguably colder than even the northernmost flaming tombs. It became his usual attitude after her mother had been killed by who Amara now knew was the Goddess of Death in an act of vengeance. The father she knew and loved lasted until the funeral, but once people began moving on with their lives, things began to change. Gone was the gentle, doting father she knew, and in his place was a shell of a man who only sought power and fame.

Even at the expense of his own daughter.

Part of her, thinking back to that night, when she felt as though things had turned around for her.

Growing sick of the scent of alcohol and sex in her home, she’d wandered to one of the many cliff sides in Palermo.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there, eyes locked on the crashing waves below, but not really looking at them.

It would be so easy to just… Push herself forward, and let herself fall. So, so easy.

But, before she could properly contemplate the idea, he was pulled from her thoughts by the distant sound of music. As if in a trance, she made her way down the side of the cliff wondering if it was the cold, or anticipation that had her limbs trembling. What she hadn’t expected was to find a bonfire, and a single male dancing on the beach.

The sculptures that nobles commissioned from renowned artisans to line their overly elaborate halls must’ve been inspired by the man. His skin was gold, and hair dark. His charcoal eyes seemed to glow under the light of a flaming circlet that wrapped around his head. Yet, somehow, she got the impression that if she met his gaze, she’d feel like she was trapped in a darkened abys

se of desire.

“If you like what you see, then why not join?” The male’s voice jolted her from her thoughts.

He had been across the beach a moment ago, but now he stood right in front of her. Too close. His face was too close, as he bent at the waist to examine her. It was only then, when she felt that flaming circlet flicker against her forehead that she realized how… Wrong- no. Not wrong. How… Strange it was.

“Doesn’t your head get hot during the summer?” she had blurted out, before slapping a hand over her mouth.

The man’s eyes widened, and he had jerked back, clearly surprised by the question. He observed her, eyes narrowing somewhat, before leaning back, letting his lips spread into a grin.

“There are no summers where I’m from,” he shrugged. She blinked up at him, hands still pressed to her mouth, but eyes wide and curious. He seemed so jovial when she first saw him, then he looked like he could see all of her secrets laid bare, before going back to seeming like he was having fun. “Should you not be more concerned by this?” he cocked his head to the side.

Amara dropped her hands from her mouth, and blinked up at him again. After a few moments under his expectant gaze, she raised a brow, and rocked on the soles of her feet, answering with a shrug. “No. My mother was a witch,”

Lust’s brows shot up.

“You seem remarkably comfortable sharing that, when all it would take is the wrong person overhearing for you to be condemned,”

“You aren’t exactly human either, in case you hadn’t noticed,” she pointed out, “I know enough about malvagi to know that if you wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Clearly, you don’t. Not as of yet, anyway,”

Lust’s brows shot up again, as he circled her.

Amara held her chin high, eyes tracking the male.

Silence stretched on for what felt like hours, though was likely only minutes.

“Do you know who I am, Stella Stregah?” he finally asked.

“A Malvagi,” she stated, matter of factly, before looking behind him, “Why are you having a bonfire all alone?”

“Would you care to join me?” was the only response he gave.

“Will you attempt to use your powers on me?” she asked.

“Dance with me, and perhaps you’ll find out,” the demon bowed at the waist, offering his hand to her.

Amara eyed him skeptically, but shrugged and accepted.

Music filled her ear again, though there was no discernible source, as the demon guided her through the steps. Amara let him. She followed his lead, though never once made eye contact with the demon.

“Which one are you?”

“I am the Prince of Lust,”

She narrowed her eyes on him. Taking a moment to examine herself, and thinking over their interactions thus far. It didn’t seem like he used his powers on her.

“Why haven’t you tried to influence me with your sin, yet?”

“Believe me, I’ve been trying,” Lust huffs.

“What?”

“Our powers can only inflate emotions that are already present. When I reached out to inflate yours, I sensed no emotion to inflate. Either you truly feel nothing, or they’re so deeply buried that even I can’t find them,”

“I…See,”

“Is that why you considered jumping from the cliff, Stella Stregah?”

Lust raised a brow, examining the way her face scrunched.

“That’s not your concern, Malvagi.” Amara snapped, moving to pull away.

He chuckled, yanking her into a spin, before she could, then caught her, and pushed her into a dip, hand cupping the thigh of her raised leg. His face was mear inches from hers.

“No need to be so wrathful, little witch. Let go of your troubles for a night. Release those pent up feelings and give in to your desires,”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she told him, point blank.

“I never said you should. Not unless those are your desires,” Lust shrugged, not rising from the dip, letting his hand trail down her leg, “Dance. Drink,” she glanced behind him to see a table of drinks and food she hadn’t noticed before, and on the other side, comfortable looking chairs were laid out around the bonfire, “Rest. Talk. Sing. Give into whatever brings your pleasure,”

“You mean to feed your sin,”

“Perhaps. But can you deny that giving in to pleasure, forgetting what ails you, even for a single night, would be bad?”

It wouldn’t. She knew it wouldn’t.

“Surely you have plenty of people available to feed your sin,”

“Yet I crave you,”

Amara’s eyes narrowed.

“If I give into pleasure, you won’t use your sin on me?”

“Not unless you ask, little witch,”

“Then it’s a deal. Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight.”

It hadn’t been just for a night.

She had returned two nights later, and made the same deal again, swearing it was the last time. Then again. And again. And again. And again.

Eventually, she gave into more and more of her desires, spending more than a couple of those nights with him making love on the beach, or in a cave. One time, he’d even appeared in her bedroom while her father was out drinking. Lust had wrinkled his nose when he appeared, be it at the sorry state of the place she lived in, or the clear evidence of her father’s vices, despite his own position, she couldn’t tell.

Eventually, she’d found herself coming to enjoy the jovial prince’s company. Perhaps it was unwise to do so, given what she knew of the malvagi, yet, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Even as she began to desire more than just his body. Instead, she longed for tender nights where he held her by the fire after a particularly vigorous session of love making in a cave.

Foolishly, she longed for the scowl he gave at her proposal to roast marshmallows over his flaming crown, before reluctantly agreeing if only she never shared it with her brothers, only to watch her oh, so tenderly as she made s’mores for them. Above all, she longed for the high she felt in his presence, which she recently learned wasn’t due to his sin, but rather her own feelings, and delusions.

That was all it was. Delusions.

Princes of Hell are content to rule alone, with no desire to share their power with anyone.

Now, at least she had her memories to hold onto as she got married. Then, when Prince Zarus would transform her into one of his own at the reception, right before injecting her with his venom, she’d likely lose all senses, or memories of her Prince. Perhaps that would be the mercy. To forget all of it, and be lost in the oblivion for the rest of eternity.

A sharp knock snaps her from her thoughts. In the mirror, she watched the lady’s maids quickly shuffle out, but glanced away at her father’s entry. She refused to even look at him.

He, obviously, noticed this too, but for once, did not strike her. Instead, he examined her.

“You don’t look like a whore, for once,” he comments. Amara said nothing. “Don’t look so sullen when you walk down the aisle. You are to wed royalty, and if you wish for comfort in your new life, do not let the prince tire of you.”

“Don’t pretend this is for me,” she whispers, “All this is so you can gain wealth, power and immortality. You care nothing for how I feel about the matter.” Tears well in her eyes as she gazes at her reflection, feeling like an imposter.

Her father approached, ignoring her flinch as he placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning beside her head to watch her in the mirror.

She refused to meet his gaze.

“Nonsense. You’re the precious,” his hands squeezed uncomfortably tight, voice strained, “daughter that my wife left behind before she died. I am merely doing what is best, so that you might live a life of comfort,”

Amara wanted to retort. To hurl insults and decor at him, but knew the guards would happily inject her before the wedding started, upon their Prince’s orders, and drag her down the aisle in that state of euphoria if that’s what it took. She didn’t want that. She wanted to put it off as long as she could. Yet, she also wanted to be rid of her father.

Mercifully, another knock at the door dragged her father away with one, final, painful squeeze of her shoulders.

She barely noticed the newcomer enter after her father, the woman draped in silver, emanating a familiar sensuality. Amara’s eyes snapped to hers as she pressed a finger to her lips. A slip of paper drops in front of her, before she uses transvenio to make her escape.

Eyes wide, Amara reaches for the paper, slowly unfolding it.

My dearest Amara, You don’t have to say yes. Meet at the back door and I can take you away from here, somewhere you’d be happy. I’d give absolutely anything for that, so I ask that if you wish to escape this, then come find me. I’ll be there until the reception ends. Forever yours, Prince Lust.

The message burst into flames, leaving behind a slip of paper with a map drawn on it. It appeared to lead from her room to the place he was waiting. The only issue were the guards outside her room. With furrowed brows, she shoved the paper into her pocket, hoping she’d have a chance on the way to the altar.

Finally, when her father came to collect her, she walked to the end of the hall.

“Father. I- I forgot my necklace! Could you go back and get it?”

“Just leave it, before we’re late,” he assures, with thinly veiled irritation and faux kindness.

“But it was a gift from the Prince. He’d be terribly angry if I don’t,” she tried.

Her father raised a brow, but nodded to the guards, who turned back. She and her father had watched them head back up the hall, to her room, before she turned on her heel, reaching for the paper. She’d made it halfway up the hall before a firm grip pulled her back.

“Where do you think you’re-” he noticed the paper. His eyes slid over the map, narrowing on it. Before she knew what was happening, a sharp sting was felt across her face, strong enough to send her to the ground, “You whore! You think you can escape this? You think you can embarrass me?!”

She shrank under his ire, more tears welling in his eyes.

“I- I’m sorry-”

He yanked her up by the arm.

“No. But you will be. Just you wait until the reception is over,” he hissed, “Now compose yourself,”

She did her best as they stood in the hallway, certain that the guards heard everything. A put of dread opened up in her stomach and minutes ticked by far too slowly, yet far too quickly at the same time. Each second was like a step towards the gallows.

She barely processed the guard’s return or her father clasping the necklace around her. She didn’t bother to hide her stiffness, or heartbreak, even as her father snapped at her to smile. As far as she was concerned, this was as good as walking to the executioner’s block.

The doors to the throne room opened, revealing the altar, where the immortal throne, where Zarus, sat at the end of an aisle laid with red and black petals.

Amara didn’t care much what plant they were from, only that it felt like a mocking reminder that the path to her future was scattered with more and more burdens to laden her shoulders.

She didn’t notice when she got to the altar.

She didn’t acknowledge the priest, or her fiance.

She stood in stony silence, with the eyes of bloodsucking monsters pinned to her.

The lines she dreaded most were coming.

She hardly felt like she could breath, much less speak.

She wanted to run.

She had to run.

She needed to run.

Run.

Ru-

“Do you, Amara Willows, take Prince Zarus to be your Prince and your husband, and to serve him and his court, for the rest of eternity?”

Her throat dried up.

She couldn’t speak.

“Amara?” a distant voice called.

She couldn't discern who.

She could feel her father’s harsh glare on her, and the Prince’s hand tightening on hers.

“Amare Willows, do you take-”

She couldn’t take it. She ran. Amara practically jumped off the altar, gown bunched in her hands, as she raced for the doors. There was yelling, and she felt pain in her foot as she stumbled, shoe falling off in the process, but she refused to acknowledge the pain as she made for the doors. It only really sunk in as two guards caught her arms in a bruising grip.

“Let me-”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask those with objections to ‘speak now’ or some bullshit?”

Amara’s head snapped towards the door at the familiar voice. Charcoal eyes met her own, and the flames that circled his head flickered somewhat brighter. As per usual, he wore an embroidered suit jacket and pants, foregoing the shirt.

It was him.

He was here.

Her prince was here.

“There is none in this court who would dare object to their Prince’s union,” scowled Zarus.

“Luckily I’m not part of this court then,” Lust grins, ever the jovial one, “So allow me to say with all sincerity in my non-existent heart,” he mocked, only, there was something different. His eyes had an intensity about them that she’d never seen before, “that I object,”

“Lu-” she tried to reach out, only for Zarus to appear in front of her.

The guards back off when Zarus grabs her wrist.

“On what grounds? You have no right to interfere in our affairs,”

“I do when you take a member of my court,”

“My daughter has never been a member of your vile court!” Her father interrupted, his face going red, from embarrassment or rage, she couldn’t tell.

“You see, that’s where you're wrong,” Lust starts, as he begins his way up the aisle, “She and I had made a deal, that involved her allowing me to fuel my sin through her several times a week. Marrying you would prevent her from holding up her end of the bargain,”

Her eyes widened as she recalled the deal she made, time and time again.

“Each corner of The Underworld has its own set of laws. Human law, the law of the Shifting Isles, dictates that a woman may not enter such agreements without her father or husband’s consent, deferring only to their female line in the absence of a male relative,” her father snapped.

“Yes, however, each law can be overturned by The King,”

“Not without valid reason to-”

“And there is,” a new voice called.

The man who just entered is burly, with dark hair, tied back with leather, and upswept, dark eyes. A scar is carved through his right cheek, a silver gleam against his darker features, and fine black suite. Despite how bored the man seems, the way his hand remains in reach of what appears to be a dagger’s sheath makes it clear that he’s been assessing everything with a warrior’s eye. He came prepared for violence.

Lust told her about him before. Anir. The King’s second.

“Consent is the most important aspect of courtship and marriage. Yet your bride doesn’t appear to want to be here at all,” Lust muses.

“What nonsense-” her father snapped, but was cut off by a withering glare from Anir.

“The King has asked me to confirm this. If it is true, then he’s willing to recognise House Lust’s claim of the woman, and has ordered me to leave behind a declaration of war as a result,” Anir holds an envelope between two fingers.

“This is ridiculous-” her father attempted again, only to be cut off again.

“Of course my bride wishes to be here,” Zarus turns from Anir to Amara, grip tightening painfully on her wrist, “don’t you?”

Amara winces, unable to speak from the strength with which he was holding her. Anir examined her, waiting, but the pain in her wrist became too much. She was sure he was crushing the bone, even before she heard a snapping sound coming from there. She wanted to cry out, only for the pressure on her wrist to vanish in a moment.

That was the moment the petals scattered on the aisle started coming closer. It was as if she was falling.

It wasn’t until warm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her to a warm chest, that she saw Lust kneeling beside her. Through her gaze, though blurred with unshed tears, she noticed a female demon, the one from before, gripping the Prince’s hand almost as tightly as he did her’s. Tighter perhaps.

A warm hand gently guided her face away from the sight, so that she might meet the gaze of her prince instead.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t make it,” she whispered, thinking to her failed attempt at escape,”

“It’s okay, little witch. I’m here now,” Lust whispers, cradling your body.

You turn to see the man, Anir, approaching too. His gaze is calculating as he observes you, likely trying to figure out what to report to his prince.

“What’s important now is that you’re honest,” he tells you sternly, though not unkindly, “If you don’t wish to marry Zarus, speak now, Miss Willows,”

Her heart races at his words, at the opportunity to escape. She wants to reach for it, to grasp it but-

“But where will I go?” she asks weakly.

Lust, who was cradling her wounded wrist in his hand, smiled gently at her. Like he had many times before.

“You’ll come with me,” he whispered.

“But why? You have so many demons to feed your sin, so why-”

“Because I want you,” he reminds her, “I’ll tell you as many times as you need. I want you. Not anybody else,” he leans down to your ear, “Come back with me, to House Lust. Join my court officially. Be mine. Let me make you my princess, and then be mine. Mine for eternity,”

“Lust-”

“Hush. Let me finish,” he waits for you to nod before speaking, “In return, I’ll give you all the comfort and pleasure you want. I won’t have dalliances with anyone else. I won’t look at anyone else. Nobody but you. I’ll give you whatever your heart desires, if you just say ‘yes’”

He’s practically begging, in front of the entire vampire court, and his brother’s second, no less.

You don’t bother to contain your tears as you lean up, wrapping your good arm around him.

“Miss Willows-” Anir begins.

“Amara, I forbid-”

“Yes,” she manages to get out through her sobs, not breaking your gaze from Lust’s, “I want to go to House Lust. I want to leave this place,”

Anir nods, beginning to address the room again, but you pay it no mind. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Lust’s shoulders, mindful of the injured wrist, and buried your face there. The demon from earlier tried to console her, only for Lust to wave her away. He could feel her emotions. The fear, and heartache for her situation, all overshadowed by relife, joy, and desire for her freedom, for Lust. He felt no need to inflate it, instead, he gently encouraged her to let it out however she needed.

It was only when Lust deposited her on a bed covered in deep plum silks, and overly stuffed pillows.

“Care for a bath?” he asked.

“As long as it stays one. I’m far too tired to do anything right now,” she murmured to him.

Lust chuckled, but agreed, as he helped her from, what he called, an inordinate amount of fabric, as she giggled and reminded him that it was only two layers.

“Two layers too many,” he huffed, before tearing the dress from her body and depositing her in the bat.

While she soaked, Lust gently wiped the makeup from her face, before pressing a kiss to her temple. He brought some ointment and bandages for her wrist, silently wrapping it, before carrying her back to bed.

“If you don’t wish to sleep bare, I could have some night clothes brought,” he gently offered, as he helped her dry off.

Amara shook her head.

“I’ve slept beside you, naked, in caves, and on sand. I think I’ll be fine to do so while wrapped in the most comfortable silks I’ve ever seen,” she assured.

Lust smiled, nodding, before reaching for something from the bedside.

“I only wish for your comfort, little witch, before I make good on one of my promises,”

Amara blushed at the reminder.

“You don’t-”

He ignored her as he took a ring in one hand, hew good wrist in the other.

“I want to. Let me make you my princess. My fiance. My only lover,”

She stared at him, noting sincerity in his dark eyes. Amara nodded.

“Then, from now until eternity, be mine, Lust,”

Lust slid the ring to her finger, then pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Mine,” he nipped at her.

She giggled, and nipped back.

“Mine,”

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