#yes I had to pull a title in the chapter thing

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Godly Things | Chapter 52 Chapter 52 | the sacred and the stupidly loved⌟

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Eventually, the two of you strolled along the edge of the port now, the salty breeze kicking at the hem of your cloak. The water slapped softly against the stone, sunlight winking off the waves like thrown coins.

You found yourself talking—words slipping easier now, warmer.

"And then," you said, grinning a little, "this merchant—this idiot—tried to back me into a corner."

Hermes' arm tightened slightly around your shoulders, his head tilting toward you in interest.

"He got all handsy," you went on, waving your free hand for emphasis. "Grabbed my waist. So I grabbed him and slammed into the nearest wall, and held him at knife point, like I did you earlier. Even knicked him a bit."

Hermes cackled, loud and delighted, like you'd just given him the best story of the year.

"Gods, I knew there was something vicious brewing under that sweet little face," he laughed, bumping his hip against yours. "Proud of you, little musician. Very proud. Apollo's probably writing tragic songs about your deadly elbows already."

You chuckled under your breath, your body relaxing again, the easy rhythm of the walk carrying you forward.

But then, your eyes drifted to the left.

To the sea.

You weren't even trying to look.

It just... pulled you.

The water stretched out, endless and bright, sparkling under the sun like it had never swallowed a single soul. Like it didn't remember.

You did.

Your laugh trailed off.

Your steps slowed until you weren't moving at all.

You stared out over the waves.

And suddenly—

You could feel it all again.

The burn in your chest.

The way the sea pressed against your ribs like iron hands.

The thousand ghostly voices whispering and sobbing in the deep.

Eurylochus' hollow voice mourning missed time with Ctimene.

Your throat tightened.

Your fingers curled into your palms without meaning to, nails digging against your skin just to feel something solid. Something now.

You didn't even notice you'd stopped walking.

Didn't realize Hermes had kept going for two steps without you before he caught on.

He doubled back, still chuckling to himself—until he saw you.

And then he leaned down, ducking into your line of sight.

He lifted a finger and gave a light, playful tap against the side of your head.

"Knock, knock," he sing-songed, trying to break the tension. "Anyone home?"

You blinked, slow.

Pulled back into yourself like waking from a nightmare you hadn't meant to fall into.

And maybe it was the way your feet dragged. Or the way your arms stayed hugged close around yourself, like you were holding something broken inside.

Because his face faltered the second he saw you.

The grin he always wore—lopsided, too much—dimmed. His hand, still half-raised from tapping your head, dropped a little. His golden eyes scanned your face, and you knew he saw it.

The dark.

The heaviness still clinging to you like seaweed.

The part of you that hadn't really made it back to the surface.

Your throat worked around a dry swallow. You tried to smile. Failed.

Instead, your voice came out rough, smaller than you meant."Do you think..." You bit your lip, then forced the words through."Do you think my title lets me help them?"

Hermes blinked. "Help who?"

You looked out toward the sea without thinking. The waves curled lazy against the docks now — soft, gentle—nothing like the graveyard you'd floated in.

"King Odysseus' men..." you said, quieter. "The ones who never crossed. The ones just...waiting." You turned back to him, the weight thick behind your ribs. "Could I help them?" you asked. "Guide them to the other side? So they can finally get peace?"

You didn't even know what you were hoping for. A yes? A maybe? Something to make that ache less useless?

Hermes snorted through his nose, a little grin tugging at his mouth. "Help them? You?"

You stiffened.

His grin stayed sharp, but not mean. "Sweetheart," he said, tilting his head, "a title's just a prettier word for bait."

You blinked.

He shifted his weight onto one foot, tossing a coin up in the air and catching it without looking. "Makes people think you can do more than you ever promised," he said easily. "That's all it is. A trick. A song. Something that sounds good enough to soothe their fears."

He chuckled at first. That warm, lazy chuckle he always had tucked in his chest.

But then his gaze dropped to your hands.

And he saw it. The way you were twisting your fingers in the folds of your cloak. Knuckles tight.

The chuckle died in his throat.

Slowly, he straightened. His voice softened, lost the edges. "Hey," he said, quieter now. "You don't owe the sea anything."

You stared at him, breathing hard. Your hands stayed clenched at your sides.

He stepped a little closer. Close enough that the scent of him wrapped around you. "Just because someone gave you a title that sounds divine," Hermes murmured, "doesn't mean you became something you're not."

You flinched, a tiny jerk of your chin.

Hermes' mouth twisted, almost regretful. "Especially" he added, "when it was a mortal who gave it."

Your throat burned.

He didn't say Odysseus' name.

He didn't have to.

You already knew.

You shifted your weight, hands clenching at your sides, the knot behind your ribs pulling tighter. "I can heal," you said stubbornly, voice low, hoarse. "I healed that boy, back on Ithaca. I didn't imagine that."

The words came out sharper than you meant.

Maybe because you needed them to be true.

Maybe because you could still feel the cold weight of those soldiers back in the deep—their empty eyes, their forgotten hands reaching for you—and the guilt of not reaching back still sat like a stone behind your ribs.

You wanted to help them. You wanted to believe you could fix it. Anything less felt like leaving them there to rot.

Hermes only raised a brow, almost pitying. "And who do you think gave you that little trick?" he asked easily.

You froze. Your mind reeled back—

The lyre.

The golden light.

The way your hands had moved without you calling for them.

Apollo.

Not you. Not ever you.

Your mouth opened. Closed. Nothing came out.

Hermes watched the realization bleed slow across your face before he continued, voice lighter but not unkind. "Divine favor isn't the same as divine appointment. Healing? Sure. A blessing, a trick, a party favor—whatever you wanna call it. But shepherding souls?"

He shook his head, a soft, almost amused sound in the back of his throat. "That's different. That's weight. That's authority. And it doesn't get handed out because someone called you a pretty name."

You swallowed hard, the pressure thickening behind your chest.

Hermes rubbing the back of his neck lazily like he was explaining something to a stubborn apprentice. "If you wanted to guide spirits," he said, "you'd need explicit appointment." He lifted a hand, ticking names off his fingers casually. "Hades could grant it. Hypnos, maybe, if you caught him in the right mood. Me, if I was feeling generous—" He winked at that but you didn't smile. He sighed. "But you don't have that. You don't bear the weight of that law. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

You looked away, chest squeezing tighter.

"And as for those poor bastards down there..." Hermes shrugged one shoulder, careless in a way only gods could be. "That's just how it goes, little musician. Some souls get stuck. Some don't. Maybe, in a millennium or two, long after King Odysseus and his golden boy are dust, Poseidon will finally get bored of holding a grudge. But it won't be because of you. Or anything you failed to do."

You flinched at that—hard enough that Hermes caught it.

You stared at the cobblestones, your pulse pounding in your ears, the salt breeze suddenly feeling a little too sharp in your lungs. You twisted your fingers into the hem of your cloak. Pressed your teeth hard to the inside of your cheek.

You didn't trust yourself to speak.

Not yet.

Not without the grief—or the anger—slipping through.

And Hermes, to his rare credit... let you have the silence. Just for a little while.

Then, you finally let out a breath. More a scoff than anything—a crooked, tired thing that twisted up your mouth as you dragged a hand down your face.

You shook your head once, muttering under your breath. "Grudge," you repeated bitterly, tasting the word like it soured on your tongue. "Tell me about it."

Your mind drifted without permission—sliding back into the cracks you tried not to look at too long.

Aphrodite and her damn curse.

The one that clung to your bloodline like oil to skin.

The one that twisted love into something ugly, something hollow, until it wasn't love at all—just longing and loneliness sharpened into knives.

For years, it had shaped your family. Poisoned every hope. Starved every heart.

Until lately.

Until recently.

Until you finally clawed your way free of it.

But still—you knew the weight of old grudges better than most. You wore their scars, even if no one else could see them.

Hermes watched you a little longer. Long enough that the grin he normally wore thinned into something smaller.

More careful.

Then, voice quieter now—almost hesitant, like he didn't want to press too hard—he asked. "...Is it... something you want done?"

You blinked, the question sinking past your ribs before your mind could catch it.

He didn't mean the curse. He meant the soldiers. The wreckage Poseidon left you floating in. The lost voices still clawing at the back of your ears.

You turned your head slightly—enough to glance over your shoulder, back toward the harbor.

The ocean stretched out, glittering under the sun like it had never seen a corpse. Like it had never swallowed six hundred men and let their names rot at the bottom.

Your throat tightened.

Before you could even think about it, your hand lifted—moving on instinct—and pressed lightly against your chest. Right over your heart.

You remembered them.

The mourning soldiers. The way their voices wept without sound. How they crowded around you—not angry, not hateful—just... broken. How they told you their names. Their wives' names. Their children's names. Only to forget them the next breath. Only to tell you again.

You could still feel them. Still hear them.

The ghosts of their grief brushed your ribs, even now.

You swallowed hard. Your fingers curled tighter against the fabric over your heart.

But you didn't answer Hermes.

Not yet.

Because what would you even say?

Yes?

No?

I don't know?

It felt too big. Too cruel to hope for. Too cruel not to.

The words sat heavy against your ribs, pressing until you thought something might crack from the weight.

And then, barely louder than the lap of the sea against the shore, you whispered—broken, shaking, real. "If I could..." Your fingers dug slightly into your cloak, breath hitching against your teeth. "I would."

It hurt to say it. Like it cost you something. Like naming the want made it heavier, not lighter.

Hermes let the words settle—let them breathe.

And then, after a beat, he hummed low in his throat. "...Suppose," he mused, casual as if he were talking about picking fruit instead of bending fate, "I could pull a few strings."

You froze.

Your head whipped toward him so fast you nearly threw your neck out.

Your eyes were wide, stinging, your heart lurching up into your throat.

"You—what?!" you gasped, almost tripping over the words. "Are you—are you serious?"

Hermes just gave you a crooked little smirk, tilting his head in that maddening way he always did when he thought he was being clever. "When," he said, tapping two fingers lightly against your forehead, "have I ever lied to you?"

You opened your mouth—shut it again—then, before you could even think about it, you launched yourself at him. A tiny squeal escaped your mouth, embarrassing and helpless, as you threw your arms around his neck.

Hermes staggered just half a step back, but he caught you easily—laughing, real and surprised, as he wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you.

You clutched him like he was the only thing holding you to the ground. "Thank you," you gasped, your voice cracking against his shoulder. "Thank you, thank you—gods, thank you—"

You didn't even realize you were crying until your face pressed into the warm curve of his neck, your body trembling with the force of it.

You hid there, burying your face against his skin like you could tuck yourself out of sight, like maybe if you stayed small enough, stayed still enough, the hurt would slip away and leave only this—this warmth, this relief, this stupid, stupid hope.

Hermes' hands tightened a little around you—one rubbing firm, steady circles along your back, the other cradling the back of your head like he was afraid you'd fly apart if he let go.

He didn't tease. Didn't laugh. He just held you.

Letting you cry against him under the bright, endless sky.

For the ones who never got to come home.

For the ones who waited too long.

For the ones still waiting.

And for yourself.

You didn't know how long you stood there—pressed tight against him, fists curled into the loose folds of his tunic like you could anchor yourself there forever. The sea whispered somewhere behind you. The sun pressed warm into your back.

And still—you stayed.

Until finally, Hermes shifted.

Not to push you away.

But to tug you back just enough to see your face.

He tutted under his breath, shaking his head with a fake, exaggerated sigh. "Gods, you're dramatic," he teased softly, one hand sliding from your waist to cup your cheek.

His thumb brushed under your eye—catching a tear you hadn't even noticed had slipped loose.

"All this crying over some dead sailors?" he said, voice light but not cruel. "You act like I'm doing something hard." He grinned lopsidedly, tilting his head. "I'm just moving a few souls. No big deal."

You tried to scoff, but the sound wobbled pathetically in your throat.

Hermes only chuckled—lower, fonder.

And then—so gently you barely felt it—his thumb trailed downward, brushing the faint line of your scar.

The one tucked against your jaw.

The one that marked where a knife had once tried—and failed—to silence you forever.

He traced it slowly, like he was memorizing the shape of it.

Like he had every right to.

Like he already had.

Your breath caught without meaning to.

Hermes' smile faded just a little—softened into something quieter, sadder, more dangerous.

His eyes—normally all gold and sly and sharp—turned molten and warm, like honey left too long in the sun.

He looked at you like you were something sacred.

You blinked up at him, lashes damp, throat raw.

Your lip trembled slightly, and you hated it, hated how raw you felt, but Hermes didn't laugh. Didn't tease. He just held your face in his hands like he was afraid you'd vanish if he blinked.

Like maybe... maybe you were the only real thing he'd touched all day.

He leaned a little closer, grin going sly.

"Keep looking at me like that," he murmured, thumb still brushing slow over your skin, "and I swear—I'll hand you Olympus by sunrise if you asked."

You stared at him.

Wide-eyed. Disbelieving.

He said it so matter-of-fact, like he wasn't promising you something outrageous. Like it would be easy. Like it was already half-done.

Your throat bobbed, your fingers still clinging to the edge of his tunic.

And he just smiled at you—crooked and golden and too big for one god to hold.

"You want a palace?" he added, winking. "A river named after you? An entorague of nymphs to wait on you hand and foot? Say the word, darling. I'll forge a mountain in your honor before Apollo even wakes up for his morning ambrosia."

You let out a cracked, half-soggy laugh, shoving weakly at his shoulder.

Hermes only laughed again—full-bodied this time, sharp and bright as sun on seawater—and caught your wrist easily before you could pull it away.

He pressed your knuckles lightly against his chest.

Right where his heart would be.

And for one strange, quiet heartbeat—you almost thought you could feel it beating.

Steady. Warm. Real.

Another sniffle escaped you—pathetic and wet—and you scrunched your face up in annoyance at yourself.

"You're always so..." You huffed, cheeks burning. "...unserious."

Hermes just laughed.

Not the loud, teasing cackle he usually threw around like coins at a festival.

This one was low. Warm. Private. Like it was just for you.

He wiggled his brows dramatically, still cradling your cheek with one hand like you were made of spun glass. "Of course I am," he said, voice lilting with fake solemnity. "I'm the god of trickery, darling. It's practically a professional requirement."

You shook your head, pushing your palm into your eye, trying to scrub the tears away like they hadn't happened. "Of course you are," you muttered under your breath, voice hoarse but stubborn. "I forgot—gods don't really get it, huh? Stuff that's a big deal for mortals... probably means nothing to you."

Hermes tilted his head at you, his thumb still brushing faint little strokes over the curve of your scar like he hadn't realized he was doing it.

You went on anyway, not angry. Just... trying to explain. Trying to make him see it.

"You—you don't get it," you said, a small laugh slipping out, watery and sharp all at once. "For you, it's nothing. I get it. You move souls all the time. You see death every day. You can just... 'pull some strings.' Another errand to run between playing tricks and delivering prophecies. But for me—" you pressed your hand to your chest, half-punching your own ribs, "for me it's not just... paperwork!"

Your voice cracked a little, but you powered through it.

"You didn't see them," you said, almost shaking now, sadness turning into anger. "You didn't see the way they—" You broke off, grimacing. "They weren't angry. They weren't monsters. They were just... stuck. Forgotten. Whispering the same things over and over because they couldn't remember anything else... Like they didn't even know they were dead."

You breathed out a harsh sound that was half a laugh, half something sharp and broken.

Hermes blinked at you."Huh?" he said, voice small and almost stupidly confused.

You stared at him, not sure whether to laugh or scream. His face was scrunched up like you'd just started speaking another language.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I mean, you're sensitive, sure," he said carefully, like he wasn't sure if he was walking into a trap, "but why are you—what, did you get too empathetic while I wasn't looking? Crying over a bunch of random spirits you didn't even know? That's a little—" He made a tiny gesture. Like "come on."

You cut him off. "No,"you said sharply. "It's not just me being emotional."

Hermes cocked his head, frowning.

You sucked in a breath, words bubbling up before you could even filter them. "I was down there," you said fiercely.

He straightened a little at that, his grin slipping a bit.

"When the storm hit—when the ship almost went under—the sailors panicked," you started, jaw tightening. "There was no offering, so they wanted to sacrifice something—someone. Lady—" your voice wobbled, and you pushed through it— "Someone tried to grab Lady. They tried to take her. Said she wasn't a real person. I stopped them. Offered myself instead."

Hermes' face blanked completely.

No teasing. No sparkle in his eye. Just a slow, cold stillness settling over his features.

"I jumped," you said. "I hit the water. Sank. And then, instead of letting me die, he showed up. Poseidon,"you laughed under your breath, the sound bitter and brittle."All glowy and smug, acting like he was doing me a favor by not crushing the ship to dust." You flung your arms out. "And—AND THEN—he just grabbed my face and—"

You gagged a little on the memory.

"And he kissed me," you burst out, appalled all over again. "Or—no! Sorry! 'It wasn't a kiss,' he said," you mimicked in a high, mocking tone. "It was just him giving me a 'gift'—air. So generous. So considerate. Like that makes it better!"

Hermes' mouth twitched like he wasn't sure if he should laugh or commit murder.

You pointed at him, still ranting, voice shrill now. "I don't care what kind of ancient, majestic 'gift' he thought it was! He could've warned me! Or—I don't know—literally anything except ambush my face like that! Then he dragged me down to the bottom of the sea and dumped me in a godsforsaken graveyard with six hundred dead Ithacan soldiers for three days."

Hermes didn't move.

Didn't even breathe.

You pushed the heel of your palm into your brow, voice dropping into something more tired than angry now.

"I... listened to them," you said. "All of them. Their regrets. Their fears. Their last memories. Over and over and over until I couldn't tell where my thoughts ended... and theirs began."

You dropped your hand limply to your side.

"And now I'm here," you finished weakly, blinking at him. "Trying not to lose my mind every time I hear waves."

Hermes just stared at you for a long second, his arms slowly crossed over his chest.

"...Poseidon kissed you," he said flatly.

"It wasn't a kiss," you snapped immediately. "He called it a 'breathing boon' or whatever godly nonsense."

Hermes' brows lifted almost to his hairline. His voice dropped dangerously soft.

"Poseidon kissed you."

You buried your face in your hands with a groan, still too mortified to look at him.

"Not on purpose!" you mumbled into your palms. "It was survival. He said it was survival. I hate everything."

Hermes made a noise—something between a strangled laugh and a sound of pure homicidal disbelief.

You peeked at him through your fingers.

His face was a study in blank fury.

Like he'd just been informed the sky was falling and it was personal.

The silence stretched, thick and strange between you. The salty breeze tugged at your clothes. Somewhere behind you, a gull cried out—a long, lonely sound.

Then, finally, low and rough, he said, "I see."

No teasing. No jokes. Just two words, heavier than they had any right to be.

And just as fast as that dark look had settled on his face—it smoothed away. Like a ripple crossing a still pond.

Hermes smiled again. Brighter this time. Lighter.

Too light.

He gave a little hop—effortless—and the next thing you knew, he was floating a few inches off the ground, his winged sandals fluttering lazily under him. The feathers stirred the dust by your boots, kicked up little whorls of gold and gray in the sunlight.

You blinked up at him, caught off guard, and before you could flinch away, he reached down and ruffled your hair.

You squawked—actually squawked—trying to duck, but he was too fast. His fingers messed up the top of your head with infuriating precision, then smoothed it down again like you were some cranky little cat.

"There," he said, grinning wide enough to show teeth. "Better."

You shot him a look of pure betrayal.

Hermes just laughed and drifted back a step in the air, hands clasped lazily behind his head.

"Guess I better get a head start on those souls, huh?" he said, his voice still bright, but something... softer hiding underneath it. "Wouldn't want my favorite mortal thinking I'm all talk and no action."

He winked.

And before you could so much as shove him for the hair thing—or maybe hug him again, you weren't even sure which anymore—he spun midair, the wings on his sandals catching the sunlight, scattering it like shards of gold around him.

He was already pulling away, soaring higher, when your mind suddenly lurched back—Nico.

The ridiculous conversation earlier.

The favor.

The promise.

Your eyes snapped wide.

"WAIT!" you screeched, pure panic punching out of you.

Without thinking—pure stupid, desperate instinct—you leapt up, both arms stretching like you could physically drag the god of speed back down.

Somehow, miraculously, your fingers managed to snag his ankle mid-flight.

You grabbed tight around the leather strap of his sandal, your palm half-smacking against the side of his foot—and the second you did, your boots lifted clean off the ground.

Your eyes widened comically, the world tilting as your toes dangled uselessly over the cobblestones.

"Hermes—Hermes!!" you yelped, kicking wildly, the marketplace blurring a little around you.

The god jolted midair, twisting around like a cat yanked by the tail. His sandals fluttered in sharp little bursts as he wobbled, tilted—then cocked his head down at you.

He raised his leg experimentally.

You dangled there—arms clinging stubbornly to his ankle like a barnacle clamped to a ship—feet kicking uselessly above the ground.

Hermes peered at you with a mixture of surprise and wild amusement, one brow arching high.

"Well," he said cheerfully, head still tilted sideways as he studied you, "this is new."

"PUT ME DOWN!" you barked, voice half-mortified, half-terrified you were about to get launched into orbit.

Hermes just grinned wider, like this was the funniest thing he'd seen all month. One hand leisurely scratched at his jaw like he was pondering something very serious.

"Hmm," he mused aloud, voice maddeningly casual. "I dunno. You did grab me without asking. Might be grounds for kidnapping."

Your growl came low and dangerous from your throat, legs flailing harder.

But the bastard only snickered—and floated higher.

You yelped again, clutching tighter as the ground slipped even further away, your cloak flapping wildly around your knees.

In the back of your mind—deep behind the pure panic—you dimly wondered why no one was screaming or gawking.

The market was still bustling. Merchants shouted prices, kids weaved through baskets, and sailors laughed over cheap wine. Nobody even glanced at the sight of a mortal girl dangling from a god's foot like a sack of pears.

You barely managed to piece it together.

Hermes.

Of course.

Probably had some god-trick pulled over the mortals' eyes. Some ripple in the air that made your flailing look like nothing more than a flutter of fabric in the breeze—or maybe they didn't see you at all.

Gods, you were going to strangle him... if you survived.

"HER-MES!!" you screeched again, voice cracking halfway through like a dying gull.

The god just laughed—an actual full, unbothered cackle—and floated in lazy loops higher into the sun-warmed air.

You clung harder to his ankle, teeth gritted, your heart doing little suicidal somersaults in your chest.

Hermes, meanwhile, just peered down at you upside down, his hair flopping wildly in the breeze as he lazily twirled in midair.

"Alright, alright," he chuckled, voice bright and merciless. "What exactly are you doing down there, barnacle?"

You spluttered—actually spluttered—trying to scramble your thoughts and your pride back into some kind of order.

"I—I needed to tell you—!" you gasped, legs still kicking helplessly.

Hermes blinked owlishly. "Tell me what?"

You twisted your hands tighter around his ankle. "About the man!" you barked, feeling your face heat from the ridiculousness of all this.

Hermes just floated there like a lazy cloud. "You'll have to be a little more specific, darling," he teased. "I know a lot of men."

You groaned, nearly biting your tongue in frustration. "The inn! Your inn! The Quicktangle—or whatever it was called!" you barked, cheeks burning.

At that, something clicked.

Hermes' face lit up with recognition—and pure mischief.

He burst out laughing, the sound bright and absolutely unrepentant. "I forgot about him!" he crowed, clutching his stomach midair like he was watching the best play of his life.

Slowly—blessedly—he began lowering you back toward the cobbled ground. You could feel the ground pulling at your boots, the dizzy heat in your head slowly cooling as your body stopped swinging like a weathervane.

Hermes floated upside down beside you now, his curls dangling wildly toward the street, sandals fluttering in lazy kicks. His chin was practically at your shoulder level, upside down grin wide enough to split his face in two.

He tilted his head—er, his whole body—sideways and smirked.

"Soooo," he drawled, spinning once like a lazy top, "what does my loyal servant want, hmm?"

You panted, legs shaking, arms still trembling from clinging to him like a mortal lifeline.

You didn't answer right away.

Mostly because you were too busy glaring at him. Trying—and failing—to gather your thoughts back into a straight line instead of the chaotic, tangled mess he'd turned them into.

Finally, you gritted your teeth and barked out:

"He—" you panted, scowling harder, "—he just wanted me to, ugh, mention him next time I saw you. Said he's been a 'faithful and selfless steward of your sacred port' or whatever nonsense."

You waved a hand vaguely at the sky, rolling your eyes so hard it almost hurt.

Hermes' upside-down grin only grew.

But then—you paused, brows knitting.

"You know," you muttered, folding your arms, still glaring half-heartedly up at him, "why the Hades do you have a barkeep down here anyway? Shouldn't your servants be, I don't know—running temples? Giving blessings? Whispering secrets? Not...selling fish stew and warm beer to sailors?"

Hermes flipped himself upright midair, hovering cross-legged now like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He leaned in close, eyes glinting with that familiar gleam.

"You ever heard of a better way," he said, voice low and conspiratorial, "to hear every single secret of an island than by running the town's drunk tank?"

You blinked.

He grinned wider.

"Mortals," he said, shrugging grandly, "spill everything after two cups of wine and one good plate of food. Births. Deaths. Murders. Gold hoards. Secret love affairs. Half of the Trojan War rumors started in taverns, you know."

You stared.

He floated a little higher, tapping his temple smugly.

"Who needs temples when you have gossip?"

You opened your mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

"...You are," you said flatly, "by far the pettiest god I have ever met."

Hermes threw his head back and roared with laughter, arms wide like he was soaking in the compliment. "And proud of it!"

You just stared at him, hands on your hips, heart still half-pounding from almost getting carried off like a very annoyed kite.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," you muttered, waving a hand through the air like clearing smoke. "Still doesn't explain why you've got Nico playing bartender. And calling you master," you added pointedly, narrowing your eyes. "What is this? Some weird god-servant thing? Is that how you get your kicks now?"

Hermes floated backward a few lazy paces, arms folded behind his head, sandals fluttering without a care. He snorted. "Gods, no," he said, rolling his eyes like you were the crazy one. "I'm no tyrant. Nico's here because he lost a bet."

You blinked once. Then again.

"A... bet," you repeated flatly.

Hermes grinned, all teeth. "A very dumb bet."

You just... stood there.

Waiting.

Hand on your hip. Brow arched so high it could've scraped the clouds.

"...Well?" you prompted dryly. "Aren't you going to tell me?"

Hermes hummed under his breath, tilting his head like he was considering it. Then he waved a lazy hand through the air, brushing the question away like smoke.

"Nah," he said airily. "Takes the fun out of his origin story."

You opened your mouth—ready to protest, demand, argue—anything—

But before you could even get a word out, "Soooo," Hermes said, voice syrupy and sweet, hands folding behind his back as he bobbed there beside you, "you want to deliver a message to dear Nico for me?"

You squinted suspiciously. "...What is it?"

Hermes hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin like he was crafting a grand strategy.

"Tell him," Hermes said, his voice dipping into a sing-song whisper, "that as a reward for his loyal service, I'm officially granting him his freedom."

You blinked, stunned.

Hermes grinned wider, sharp and delighted.

"But—" he added, lifting a finger like a magician revealing the final trick, "if he wants the title of official Messenger's Assistant—with all the travel perks, godly favor, and free drinks at all Hermes-blessed inns—he has to accept. Immediately. No take-backs."

"And... if he refuses?"

Hermes shrugged, almost too casual. "Then he remains exactly what he is now—my servant. Just... without the perks."

You blinked again.

Still processing.

Your mouth dropped open. "That's not freedom," you said, baffled.

"Sure it is," Hermes said cheerfully, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. Your jaw dropped further when he added—oh so casually—"Freedom to pick which leash he wants."

Hermes floated down until he was level with you—still upside down—grinning like a cat about to push a vase off a windowsill.

He reached out lightly with one finger—and gently booped your chin to close your mouth.

"There," he said smugly. "That's better."

You stumbled back half a step, still trying to wrap your mind around the sheer pettiness of what you were being asked to deliver.

"Thank you, cutie~" he teased, voice lilting with laughter.

And before you could grab his tunic and demand more answers—or throttle him—Hermes gave a cheeky little salute with two fingers

Then he blew you a kiss—actually blew you a kiss, the gust of divine breeze sending your hair flying straight back.

And in the next blink, he was gone.

Up, up, up—vanishing into the blue sky like a mischievous star shooting itself home.

Leaving you there.

Alone.

Basket on your arm.

Hair a mess.

Brain completely fried.

And one very, very unfortunate message to deliver.

You stood there for a beat longer. "...I'm going to kill him," you finally muttered under your breath.

But you were smiling.

Gods help you, you were smiling.

You let out a long, slow exhale and bent down to start gathering the things you'd dropped—your basket, a few bruised figs, the little carved boat for Eben now slightly scuffed along the hull.

You brushed the dust off as best you could, cradling everything awkwardly in your arms.

The market buzzed on around you, oblivious. Voices floated on the breeze. Sunlight dappled across the crooked stones. Somewhere nearby, someone plucked a lyre, a slow, wandering melody curling through the air.

You shifted the basket onto your hip with a soft grunt, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Your fingers smelled faintly like figs and salt and the wax of a hundred sun-warmed stalls.

It was... peaceful, in a way.

The kind of peace that didn't scream. Didn't demand. It just was.

Maybe today hadn't gone the way you'd planned.

Maybe it never would.

But for now, at least—

You were here.

Alive.

Carrying a ridiculous god's message, sure, but also carrying pieces of a day that felt a little too golden to lose.

Small things. Simple things. A handful of bright feathers. A few polished stones. A bolt of blue cloth that caught the light like water.

Gifts for the people who felt like home.

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing over each one.

And for the first time in a long while, the thought that flickered through your mind wasn't what if it all falls apart?

It was I can't wait to see their faces.

You smiled to yourself, small and crooked, and turned back toward the inn.

A/N: lolol not me being psychic, just got calle din for a shift 💔💔 since imma be doign night shift and will clonk out when i get home, here's the double update ❤️ also i love nico so much! you all are gonna love him too~ and its obvious my type are funny people that hide pains/joke alot cuz i swear i love making ocs like that hahaha don't worry i swear i have more personalities in stock the funny-in-pain type just hits fr 😔 btw forgot to mention, a lot of 'characters' you've seen me spend time describing etc, yet not see them again... it's mostly cuz those will be reccuring characters in the isekai book 👀 like i'm so excited y'all i'm already plotting things out, got the first few chappies in skeleton form/blurbs and pulling bits and stuff from here, so imma be rereading godly things to take notes on what i may include in the iseaki. is there any characters/places you guys would like seen in it??? lemme know, y'all know i gotta short attention span/janky ahh memory and need reminders sometimes 😭😭😩 #overlyconfidentwritertrynajugglemulitplethingswhensheknowsshessettingherselfupforfailure💔

Tag List: nerds4life246 ace-spades-1 uniquetravelerone alassal thesimppotato11 jackintheboxs-world kahlan170 akiqvq matchaabread danishland uselessmoonlight apad-ravya suckerforblondies jolixtreesunn dreamtheatre woncloudie byzantiumhollow kisskisskys b4ts1e sarcasticbitchsblog trashcannotbealive idkanyonealrr

[luvbabydoll]

— under their noses — chapter two

a series made by © luvbabydoll

the briefing

soap slammed his hands on the table. “we need a plan.”

across from him, gaz nodded solemnly. “a proper one. can’t keep runnin’ around like headless chickens.”

ghost, arms crossed, sighed. “this is the dumbest shit I’ve ever been a part of.”

price just pinched the bridge of his nose. “why am I here?”

because obviously, this had escalated.

after weeks of failed covert testing, the boys had finally accepted that their efforts weren’t enough. they needed a strategy. a mission.

and so, they had gathered in the barracks for what soap had officially titled “operation angel.”

gaz pulled out a whiteboard. “alright, lads. let’s break this down.”

he uncapped a marker and wrote PHASE ONE: in big, blocky letters.

“step one: we confirm the voice.”

soap nodded. “already tried that, didn’t work. but we have confirmed she calls people sweetheart.”

ghost grumbled, “that’s hardly proof.”

“yeah, yeah, which is why we move on to—” gaz drew an arrow. “step two: spot the mannerisms.”

soap leaned back in his chair. “already got a list going.” he tapped a fucking notebook on the table. “lip biting. head tilting. that little—y’know—that thing she does with her hands when she’s thinking?”

gaz snapped his fingers. “yes. the wrist tapping.”

ghost stared. “you lot are fucking freaks.”

price exhaled slowly. “i cannot believe i’m listening to this.”

but the boys ignored them, too deep in the mission.

gaz turned back to the board. “step three: test her reactions.”

soap grinned. “push her a little. see if she slips up.”

ghost raised a brow. “and how, exactly, do you plan to do that?”

soap just smirked. “oh, i’ve got ideas.”

the execution — attempt #1

they were not subtle.

and the worst part?

you noticed.

it started small.

soap, lingering in the med bay for no reason, watching you like a hawk.

gaz, conveniently bringing up onlyfans in casual conversation.

ghost, lurking in doorways like a fucking cryptid, staring.

and price?

price was just done with this entire situation.

“why are you still in here?” you finally asked soap, who was sitting on the exam table, legs swinging.

“dunno.” he kicked his feet. “maybe i just like your company.”

you narrowed your eyes.

then, slowly, “…are you okay?”

soap nodded. “yeah. you could say I’m in pretty good hands.”

there was a beat.

soap just grinned.

you tilted your head. “...alright, out.”

soap groaned. “damn it.”

the execution — #2

the second attempt was even less subtle.

gaz, sitting next to you in the mess hall, sighed dramatically.

“y’know what I could really go for?” he mused.

you looked up. “what?”

gaz stretched leisurely. “a nice, soft-voiced woman tellin’ me i’ve been workin’ too hard. maybe calling me love.”

you blinked.

ghost audibly sighed.

soap hissed at him. “too much.”

gaz winced. “shit, yeah, that was too much.”

you just stared at them.

“...you guys are acting really weird.”

the execution — #3

downright pathetic.

soap, leaning against the med bay door, casually went:

“hey, what’s your opinion on side gigs?”

you didn’t even look up.

“depends.”

soap nodded. “cool, cool. ever done any? like... online stuff?”

you froze.

not much. just a flicker.

but the men saw it.

ghost, across the room, zeroed in on you.

soap grinned widely. “huh. that’s funny, because i swear i’ve seen—”

you turned around, smiling sweetly. “soap?

soap blinked. “yeah?”

you handed him a giant fucking needle.

“hold this.”

soap immediately backed away. “r-right, y’know what? forget I said anything.”

the debrief

the boys sat in the barracks, defeated.

soap groaned. “she knows.”

gaz exhaled. “oh she definitely knows.”

ghost just leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “and yet, we still don’t have proof.”

price sighed. “i hope you idiots realize how stupid this is.”

soap threw his hands up. “we can’t just ask her!”

price gave him a look. “why the hell not?”

silence.

gaz rubbed the back of his neck. “i mean… it’d be weird.”

soap nodded. “yeah. like, ‘hey, we’ve all been following your account for months, any chance that’s you?’”

price rolled his eyes. “christ. you lot are pathetic.”

but the worst part?

the absolute worst part?

despite all their efforts—despite the failed plan, the awkward encounters, the hours spent investigating—

they were still no closer to confirming it.

and you?

you were having the time of your life watching them struggle.

[clockwayswrites]

Oh Birb Part 11

Masterpost

Next Thursday. Alright, Danny could do next Thursday. He still didn’t know how he had gotten invited to Cassandra Wayne’s dance recital, but sure enough there was a link to a ticket and the event information in his email the next morning.

He was just checking in on work real quickly before he left for the Far Frozen. Or maybe he was putting off the trip for as long as he could. Danny knew that he had to go see Frostbite, but he was afraid of what answers the yeti might have. Or, worse, the answers that Frostbite didn’t have.

Danny didn’t know what would really be worse.

‘You are on vacation, Mr. Fenton.’ Popped up in Danny’s Slack and he rolled his eyes. Of course Lucius was keeping an eye on him.

‘Just checking on things before I leave.’ Danny replied. ‘I’ll be off for the next five days, promise.’

‘That better be true.’

He would have much choice, his current phone wouldn’t work in the zone.

Danny refreshed his inbox one last time before he turned his tablet off and tucked away in the basket next to the couch. Fridge emptied of anything that would spoil, trash taken out, far too many plants watered… Danny was out of excuses.

“Going ghost,” he grumbled with a sigh. He didn’t really need to say that part out loud anymore, not after all these years, but sometimes it just made it easier. A sense of bitter, binding cold washed over him. It was like breathing ice. The shards stabbed at his lungs, choked his air, killed him— and then it was gone. It was all gone. His breath, his heart beat, the pull of gravity, the ache in his bones… his life.

Danny breathed out a breath he didn’t have and let himself drift up a few inches into the air. At least he didn’t hurt. For now. Returning to his body after this trip was going to be miserable. That was a later him problem, right then Danny just enjoyed being weightless. He breathed in and out, letting his body relax from the top of his head to his toes and all the way out to the tips of his wings.

Wait. His what now?

Danny’s fit hit the ground hard. He scrambled his way over to the long mirror titled against the wall by the door. And froze.

Wings.

Those were… those were wings.

Massive black wings with spots of white on the outside and more white on the inside. There was a slightly iridescent sheen to them as he twisted and turned to try and get a look at them.

They were. He had… okay. He had wings as Phantom now. Wings that were definitely like he had seen in the videos when he was that bird thing. Danny ran his fingers over his face, wincing as his finger tips caught a little. His taloned fingertips. That’s great he was turning into a bird.

Cheep cheep, motherfucker, Danny thought hysterically.

He had been expecting a midlife crisis as he approached forty, but turning into a bird wasn’t how he thought it would go!

He needed to get to the Far Frozen. He needed answers. He needed Frostbite to have answers. Focusing on the concept of the Far Frozen, Danny dragged a clawed finger through the air, tearing a hole in reality.

The portal glowed a noxious green.

Danny took a breath and flew through it.

---

AN: I polled the HH discord if Phantom should have wings or not and it was unanimously 'yes' so! Poor Danny, having such a panic!

Can you believe we're up to 4 chapters now for this silliness?

Stay delightful, darlings.

[odoraful]

𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑲𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑳𝒀 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵

life has been a little less empty for zayne with you in it

⟡ content: zayne x gn!reader; established relationship; a little bittersweet, but still with fluff 🫂; appearance of zayne's parents; bits of zayne's childhood; 1.5k words

⟡ a/n: title is from a quote by the wonderful brennan lee mulligan from the D20 season a court of fey and flowers <3 i was feeling very soft about zayne’s life and this was written as a result :’) i hope this is an enjoyable read !

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Emptiness was something Zayne had grown accustomed to. It was in the streets that he walked on at night following a late surgery shift. It was in the study rooms he frequented as a university student–often the last person to leave once all his peers had gone. It was even in the classrooms of his childhood–remaining there to read and draw whilst everyone else played outside during breaks. Emptiness gave him periods of focus, which was important considering the career path he eventually pursued. Though, he had not always welcomed emptiness as a companion in his life.

The first time that Zayne was left home alone was when his parents went on an emergency trip out of town for work. Being only a child, he wringed his small hands as his parents hurried to pack equipment he did not yet understand. Before they left, they repeated instructions to the young boy about what he should do for the night. Warm up dinner, finish his homework, brush his teeth, go to bed early. They did not repeat these because they believed Zayne would be disobedient, but because they knew how frightening aloneness could be for a child. Having set guidelines for what to do would hopefully help him to feel capable of being by himself.  

“Remember, we’re only a phone call away, sweetie,” his mother reassured, smoothing his hair back with her fingers.

His father lowered himself on one knee to kiss his son on the forehead, tousling his hair and the careful combing his wife had just done.

“We’ll be back by tomorrow,” his father also reassured.

As the door clicked shut, Zayne watched from the window, pushing the curtain aside. After seeing and hearing the whirring engine pull away, he let the curtain fall. He stood at the entrance for a moment.

All became still, and he was greeted by emptiness for the first time.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He was shocked to feel his heartbeat drumming in his chest and hear every small breath he took. His own internal systems were exposed in silence.

He shuffled further into the house, the once familiar space now feeling too big and labyrinthian. Even his thoughts seemed to echo off the walls as he recalled what his parents had told him to do. Yes, he had tasks he needed to complete. Going through his to-do list would surely rid of the uneasiness bubbling inside him.

Zayne checked things off one-by-one. He tried to focus intensely on what needed to be done to forget about the fact that he was alone.

At last, Zayne retreated to his bedroom. His penultimate task was reading one chapter from the library book he borrowed. However, the words were distant to him as the crawling feeling of isolation left goosebumps on his skin.

Patches of unlit space in his room turned into sinister voids waiting to suck him in. The rustle of wind against windows became Wanderers raking their claws against glass.

He closed his book and snuggled deeper and deeper into the blankets, tucking his head inside and squeezing his eyes shut. He prayed he would have no nightmares tonight. If he did have one, he would wake up to nothing but a hollow room and his heart rattling in his ribcage. Torn between needing rest and not wanting bad dreams, exhaustion eventually took hold.

Zayne awoke not to terrors of the emptiness, but to the comforting touch of his mother. Through his own bleary vision, he saw his mother’s tired but gentle eyes. He sat up groggily. 

“You were so very brave, my dear,” his mother praised.  

“W-where’s Dad?” Zayne asked, sleep lifting with each blink of his eyes.

“He’s making breakfast for us.”

Something flickered in his mum’s gaze after her reply. She opened her mouth, hesitating to speak again.

“Zayne.” She took his hands in hers, brushing a finger over his knuckles. “Me and your father… we need to help as many people as we can, so that means this might happen a lot more as you get older.”

She examined her son’s expression. Zayne nodded.

“We love you very much, and we want you to do exactly as you did last night if this happens again, okay?”

Zayne nodded again, understanding then that he and the emptiness would have to get along from now on.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

At the end of another shift at Akso Hospital, Zayne drove out of the parking lot into the deserted streets of Linkon past midnight. Classical music quietly played in the background as he headed home, unlit buildings passing by in the rear-view mirror.

At the red light, he was the only one waiting. Perhaps this hour of the night meant that phantom cars would be most active, bustling about to do their ghostly activities. That sounded like something you would say to comfort him. Zayne could hear your voice in his head, could see you wiggling your fingers in a poor attempt at mimicking spookiness. The corner of his mouth twitched at his own imagination.

But, you weren’t in the passenger seat beside him this time. He stared out the front windshield, emptiness before him.

Parking the car outside his home, he approached the front door. Hovering his fingerprint over the handle, the sensor gave a small buzz of confirmation before unlocking.

Zayne listed off what he needed to do in his head as he turned the handle and entered. Since he already showered at the hospital, he just needed to change into his sleep clothes, have something to eat, and complete his observations of the day in his journal. Tomorrow (or technically today, though the late hour made it difficult to believe this was a new day) marked the beginning of the weekend when he could spend time with you. If he completed his to-do list diligently, then he could rest quickly and see you sooner.

He slipped his shoes off and undid the laces before putting them beside his other pairs. Zayne expected he would be greeted by an empty, unlit interior. The emptiness was no longer was an unwelcome, unsettling sight like he thought it to be as a child. There was a calmness to it that he had grown to appreciate. But, if he dug deep enough inside himself, there was still a feeling of loneliness he could not quite shake.

That was why he frowned when he saw the lights had been turned on in the living room. He definitely recalled turning them off before he left.

Zayne walked further inside, keeping his guard somewhat up for the possibility of an unwanted intruder.

Rather than a burglar, he was surprised, and much more relieved, to see you instead. Curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around your body.

He almost didn’t want to interrupt you. You were so cozy and peaceful, bathed in the warm glow of the lights above. At the sound of Zayne’s footsteps, your tired eyes opened, and your head raised towards the noise.

“Zaynie,” you drawled.

Your voice was crackly with sleep, but your smile was as adoring as ever. Combined with the nickname you used for him, affection tugged at his heart.

He hung his bag up and loosened his tie, joining you on the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked softly, brushing loose strands of hair away from your face. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Mmm…” you leaned into his touch. “I thought I’d get a head start and see you earlier.”

 “Earlier being at two o’clock in the morning. You didn’t have to come all this way and wait for me.”

Hearing his point, your lips turned down into a pout.

“Firstly, all this way was only about a 20-minute drive from my place to yours,” you clarified, “and secondly, I wanted to wait for you.”

He breathed a laugh, something between incredulity and fondness. It wasn’t like you didn’t have work today either. Even after your own gruelling shift today fighting Wanderers after a flare-up in a no-hunt zone, you still had the energy to come see him after he finished. Zayne was about to give you a half-serious scolding about staying up late when you leaned closer to him. The words stopped short in his throat as your lips met his cheek.

His face, cold from just being in the night air, blossomed with warmth. Likely due to your tiredness, your reaction time was slower than usual as your kiss lingered for a second or two longer.

“Welcome home, Zayne,” you whispered by his ear as you pulled away.

Home.

His home.

A place that was no longer empty now that you were here. A once solitary existence now filled with your presence.

He wished that he could somehow speak to his younger self. He would say that he would one day be reunited with someone who would wait for him even in the dead of night. That person, with all their endearing stubbornness, would be the one to protect against Wanderers that might be stalking in the emptiness (for they were a renowned Hunter after all), and leave the lights on to dispel any deathly voids.

His mouth parted, breathing becoming unsteady as he whispered back,

“It’s good to be home, my love.”

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[potatoplace]

Can't Help Falling In Love

The Afterthought: Chapter 6 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

chapter 5 | chapter 7 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Your gained independence has brought you more friendships, a companion, and, surprisingly, a new romance.

Warnings: shitty Feyre, very mild drinking, iiii honestly think that's it? I cannot think of anything else, let me know if I missed something pls

Words: ~11.8k

Author's Note: omg so I'm tired so there might be mistakes BUT everyone let me know what they think!!!!!!!!!! IM SO EXCITED TO HEAR WHAT YOU THINK CAUSE OMG IVE BEEN SO EXCITED FOR THIS MOMENT. Also. Peep the fun lil cameo I made (I am sure you all will guess it easily lol it's p obvious imo. Also. I will share pictures if people ask 🤭) I hope you all like this chapter!! ps the title is from an Elvis song but I know it from Fools Rush In but that's what they dance to at the end

18+ only pls

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

Mor returned just a few minutes after you finished getting dressed, in a soft, thick navy cotton nightgown, your feet clad in soft, fuzzy white slippers.

You had already set the table- another purchase from the secondhand furniture store that you had made yesterday, coming with four matching chairs. The scuffed walnut wood matched your bed frame, which had been a good enough reason for you to choose it.

And, that you'd been able to carry it home. Slowly, but you had, and you'd returned for the chairs promptly, each time apologizing to the seemingly annoyed shop owner who had said nothing each time, only stared at you over the top of his book.

You let Mor in after the first knock, giggling when you saw everything she was carrying. She had a small duffel bag, a bag filled with food, and another bag filled with... well, you weren't sure yet, but it was stuffed to the brim.

"Did you bring enough stuff, Mor?"

"Oh, hush you," Mor said, breezing past you to deposit the food on the stable, her other bags deposited next to your bed. "I brought pasta! There's a creamy one that has a seafood blend, and some good old spaghetti with meatballs. Plus-" Mor pulled another, smaller bag out. "Breadsticks!"

"Did you get anything healthy?" You asked, taking the breadstick that she handed to you and taking a bite.

"Nope," Mor said through her own bite. "I mean, unless you count tomatoes being a fruit. Which I totally do. So actually, yes."

You shook your head and laughed as you sat at the table, Mor following right after. "As long as there's tomatoes, then. What's all the other stuff?" You asked, pointing your breadstick at her other bags.

"Well, one is my clothes for tonight and in the morning, and the other is full of housewarming presents!"

You let out an exasperated sigh, but you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. "More housewarming presents? I don't know how much of this I can take."

"Oh, you will take them happily," Mor said sternly. "They're just some small things that I thought you might need, nothing big. Though I would love to help you find a couch tomorrow, if you're up for it?"

You looked at the bag, and back to Mor. "That depends on how much you got me, Mor."

Mor smiled brightly. "Ahh, so you can be convinced. Do you want to know what they are now, or food first?" You glanced down at your breadstick, and quirked a brow at Mor. "I mean the pasta, silly. So?"

"Uhh... Presents first, I suppose, as long as the food won't get cold."

"That should be no problem, if we keep it in the bag. I'll go change into my pajamas really quick, and then you can see what I got you!"

A few minutes later you were sat on your bed, Mor beside you, pulling your first present out as you held your eyes shut.

"Go ahead and open!" Mor said after placing something that felt like a book in your outstretched hands.

It was a book- and upon opening, you saw that it was filled with handwriting exercises, and beginners words. Meant for a child, yes, but...

"Mor, thank you," you said tearily, pulling your friend into your arms. "This is- oh, this is so amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Mor giggled beside you. "You're welcome, Y/N! I know that glass Nuala and Cerridwen gave you is helpful for understanding letters, but I also know you'd prefer to do it yourself. Now, close your eyes again!"

The two of you repeated the process over and over again, until you'd received every present Mor had picked out for you.

She had gifted you a beautiful quill set, with a selection of colored inks along with a larger inkwell filled with the standard black. A diary, in a delicate shade of pink, along with matching letter paper and envelopes, a small kit to do wax seals for when you decide to send letters. Mor had also picked out a few lovely bars of hand soap, along with two cute crystal dishes to hold them. And Mor had brought you two new blankets, one a dark blue, and the other in a dark purple.

"You can never have enough blankets, Y/N. Never," Mor said seriously as the two of you moved back to the dining table, each of you having a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

"I agree with you completely, Mor. And really, thank you for everything," you said sincerely, squeezing her hand.

"It's my pleasure, Y/N. I'm always happy to go shopping! Now- do you want some of both dishes? Cause... I do," Mor admitted with a grin as she pulled the to-go boxes out of the bag.

"I'd be happy to have both," you giggled, grabbing another breadstick from the bag, this one slightly cooler than before. "So- tell me what's been going on with the Hewn City? Unless you want to avoid work completely."

Mor sighed as she dished out some of both pastas for both of you, onto the pretty clay plates you had bought two days ago, with painted flowers decorating its surface. "Well, Keir has been a pain in my ass, using every available connection he has to try and stop the upcoming election. He's been holding these stupid little rallies at the nightly revels, trying to convince the citizens to stage a coup. Though why he thinks that would work when Rhys or Feyre alone would be able to shut it down, I don't know. Just... He's being a pain in my ass!"

"I'm sorry, Mor. Isn't there anything that Feyre or Rhys would be able to do? Or maybe... Maybe remove him from power, imprison him for attempting to overthrow their rule?" You suggested, then took a bite of the seafood pasta- absolutely delicious, the creamy sauce complimenting the scallops, shrimp, and shellfish well, the pasta tender.

"I've tried telling them that it may be the only way forward, but they don't seem to understand how bad it's gotten as of late. Azriel's been busy in Autumn or Illyria for the past few months, and Cassian's been monitoring Windhaven specifically as of late. And Feyre is pregnant, meaning Rhys is unlikely to send her to the Hewn City without him, which would leave only Amren in Velaris. So..." Mor took a dejected bite of a breadstick.

"So you're stuck there?"

"Pretty much," she sighed. "Though I made Rhys promise to give me at least one day off every week, so I'll be able to come back home, and I'll be able to see you!"

You smiled. "Good, I'm glad. I missed you a lot over this last month, Mor."

Mor's expression matched your own. "I missed you too, sweets. Now... Tell me how everything's been going with you?"

It was your turn to sigh after you swallowed your bite of spaghetti- also delicious, with the slightly spicy sauce and meatballs.

"Things have been... They're looking up now. Now that I've moved out, at least. And working has been really nice. Things around the River House... Besides Azriel, they've been really tough for me. Nesta and Elain... They make me so uncomfortable, and they hate me for no reason. At least, that's what it feels like. And Feyre doesn't seem to care, either..." You shoved another bite of food into your mouth, letting the flavor soothe your pain.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I really thought that Feyre would have tried to make them stop, especially after how rude they were dress shopping for Starfall," Mor said. "But I'm glad to here that things are looking up for you- And that Azriel has been sweet. And working at Sevenda's! You've done amazingly for yourself, love, all on your own. If..." Mor paused, considering her words. "If you decided to not have them in your life anymore, I wouldn't blame you. Feyre I would give another chance, but Nesta and Elain... They're taking their anger about their own situation out on you, I think. And that's unforgivable, seeing as they know how much it's hurt you."

Tears had welled in your eyes at her words, at how well she understood your feelings. "Thank you, Mor," you managed to choke out before the tears fell.

"Oh, sweets... Come here," Mor said, standing from her chair and pulling you up and into her arms, squeezing you tightly, a hand stroking your hair soothingly. "How about we do a face mask and eat chocolate? Does that sound good?" Mor asked after a while, pulling away from you a bit. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice quite yet.

"Let's do it, then."

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next morning was lazy, with you and Mor sleeping in and laying in bed for an hour, talking about everything and nothing. You felt like you were sharing hushed secrets together, like you had so long ago with Feyre when the both of you laid awake at night, your other sisters sleeping the night away as the two of you dreamed of a life you wanted to live, not just an existence of scraping by.

Eventually, you were dragged from the cocoon of your bed by your bladder, and after you had washed your hands you jumped on the bed, right on Mor.

"It's time to get up," you sang as you laid on top of your friend, giggling when she half-heartedly tried to push you off of her. "You said you wanted to go couch shopping, right?"

"Yes, but not this early," Mor groaned beneath you.

"If you want any chance of paying for it, you've got to get up now!"

"Okay, okay! You've convinced me, you're impossible to give things to unless I've already bought them," Mor laughed, and this time you let her push you off of her- not that you doubted her ability to do it if she truly wanted to. The two of you made your way into the bathroom, going through the steps of washing and moisturizing your faces. "We're stopping for breakfast in a café, though, I'm dying to have a muffin and some coffee."

"That's fine by me Mor," you laughed. "You can change in here, I'll change in the main room."

"Okay, just let me know when you're dressed so I don't accidentally peek on you," Mor said after she had grabbed her bag and returned to the bathroom. That left you to quickly strip out of your nightgown, down to your underwear. You slipped on a simple peach brassiere and into a clean, black woolen dress, in a similarly modest fashion to the one you had worn yesterday.

"You can come out, Mor," you called out, and a moment later the bathroom door swung open.

"Let's get going, I'm starving," Mor complained as the two of you slipped on your boots and outerwear, you of course wearing all of the items Azriel had bought for you. "Oo, I like these," Mor said, stroking the cape with an ungloved hand. "Did you buy it recently?"

A blush spread over your cheeks against your will. "Oh, uhm. Azriel gave the set to me, for Solstice."

A smile spread across Mor's face. "Oh? Azriel bought it for you?" Mor asked.

Your cheeks heated further at her actual question. "It's not like that, he's just being nice..." You mumbled.

"And what if he wasn't?"

You blinked at Mor for a moment, dumbstruck by her suggestion before you laughed. "No, no. I don't... That's not a possibility, Mor."

Mor shook her head. "But you want it to be- and it is. Any male or female would be lucky to have you, Y/N," Mor said gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Now. Let's go get breakfast."

🤍🤍💙🤍🤍

Three hours later, you and Mor were carrying a couch through the snow covered streets of Velaris, the legs dragging through the white powder. Its pink velvet fabric was a near match to the chair you had already bought, and had a low enough back to allow winged individuals to sit comfortably.

Not that you'd taken that too much into account, it was just a nice benefit for when Azriel came to visit.

Which he would be, tonight. The two of you had agreed to have dinner tonight, as your way of repaying him for your bed. It was the one night he would be in town this week, and since you had the day off it had seemed to work perfectly.

Mor was going out with some friends tonight at Rita's, an activity that you were fine not being involved in, and she had to return to the Hewn City early in the morning.

The two of you said goodbye in the late afternoon, a long hug and promises to coordinate time together and write to each other- you would even attempt to tell her about your week, if you were able.

You spent the time before Azriel turned up cleaning your apartment some, washing the dishes that you and Mor had used last night and putting away the gifts she had given you.

Then? You collapsed on the couch, a blanket spread over you as you enjoyed how soft the cushions were.

A shadow tangled in your hair moments before a knock landed on your door, and you shook your head at the silly little thing.

"Hello, Azriel," you said as you opened the door, face to face with the Shadowsinger, a round, covered dish in his hands. His shadows seemed antsier than usual, a few of them breaking away to swirl around your feet, a tiny smile creeping onto your lips.

His eyes tracked them, tightening for a moment before they met yours, hazel softening as he looked at you. "Good evening, Y/N."

Your smile grew. "Come in, you need to choose a recipe so that we can go shopping," you said brightly as you opened the door further, letting him into your apartment. "You didn't need to bring anything, you know."

"Thank you. I just brought dessert, and it was my pleasure. And I'd be happy to have anything you make, Y/N," Azriel said as he followed you into the kitchen, where you had two of your cookbooks set out on the counter. The ones that Nesta and Feyre had gifted you. He set the dish to the left of them, and you were tempted to peel back the foil covering it.

"None of that, you're going to choose a recipe that you want," you demanded, fully aware that you are being more assertive than you'd been with him... Well, ever.

But he seemed similar to you, in the way that you never liked to accept much of anything from others.

Azriel stared you down for a moment before sighing, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Okay. But you have to let me know if it's a recipe you wouldn't like," Azriel said firmly, waiting to open a cookbook until you had nodded your agreement. "Good."

He flicked through the pages until he settled on a dish you both thought sounded good- chicken and dumplings. "It was my favorite when I was younger," Azriel confessed as the two of you walked to the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, his shadows clearing your path as they had taken to doing over the past month.

"I can't imagine you younger, somehow," you giggled as you looked up at him, trying to imagine him as a gangly teenager. But the image never came, leaving you staring at the very masculine male next to you.

Azriel let out an amused snort. "That's fine by me, I was... I was awkward, back then. But, so were my brothers."

"You? Awkward?" You shook your head. "I don't buy it. You're too calm, all the time."

"That's now. Back then I was a nervous wreck," Azriel admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, if you're ever nervous now, you do an amazing job of hiding it," you said as you picked out the vegetables you would need, handing over your bank card to the stall owner for a moment, thanking them as you left. The vegetables were placed into the cloth bag you had brought with you, which Azriel plucked from your arms despite your protest.

"If you're paying for everything and cooking, the least you can let me do is carry the ingredients," he insisted. "Now, what else do we need?"

You looked down at your list, squinting at the poorly printed ingredients that you had written down before leaving. "Uh... Chicken, obviously."

"Right. There's a butcher shop just a few stalls down," Azriel said, leading you gently with a hand on the small of your back.

The intimacy of his touch made your breath stutter for a moment, before you reminded yourself that Azriel is your friend, nothing more.

Shopping flew by, easy, light conversation flowing between the two of you while you were in the outdoors.

Azriel carried everything for you, prying every item out of your hands after you had paid for it. But you didn't feel patronized by it, rather... You felt touched, that he wanted to carry the groceries back to your apartment, that he wanted to help out in some way. It was nice.

His helping hands attempted to extended into the kitchen, at which point you fixed him with your toughest stare, demanding that he stayed still.

"Just sit there and let me cook! Enjoy your wine!" You said to him as you dropped the dumplings into the pot. "This is me repaying you for my bed in the one way you would let me- so let me!"

Azriel sighed, but you could almost hear the smile he was wearing. "I cannot believe my shadows are siding with you."

"What?" You asked, turning away from the pot to stare at him, laughing at the sight you were met with. "Oh my- that's hilarious!" You giggled at seeing Azriel, covered in his own shadows as they held him to the chair, even lifting his glass of wine up for him.

"So you say, I find mutiny much less amusing," Azriel said, shaking his head with a smile on his face. "It smells amazing, Y/N."

Your smile grew, nose scrunching at his words. "Thank you, it should only be a few more minutes."

"I'm fine right here, no matter how long it takes."

🤍💞💙💞🤍

Azriel had left your apartment near eight in the evening last night, after he had insisted upon doing the dishes, of course. Dinner had been such a pleasant affair, with Azriel telling you about his work in Autumn and Illyria, and you talking about the small dramas of your fellow kitchen staff.

You could confidently say that you were friends now. Even better, you had gotten Azriel to agree to have dinner with you when he had a rare evening in town that wasn't taken up by court matters or inner circle dinners, though it hadn't been tough to convince the male. The next time you would see him would likely be on Saturday, though he had promised to send a note with one of his shadows if something came up.

Currently though, you were at work, nestled between Josi and Torma.

You'd woken up with an ominous feeling pooling deep in your stomach, one that you still hadn't shaken. But, you'd gotten yourself out of bed and to work; for that, you were proud.

Josi and Torma were going back and forth about where they should go for drinks that night.

"I think we should go to Rita's. Then we can dance!" Josi said excitedly, even doing a little jig, bumping her hip lightly into yours which drew a giggle from you. "See! Y/N thinks it's fun!"

"Dancing would be fun, that's true Josi. But I'm feeling more like sitting and talking a bit tonight, which is why Blue Bar would be a much better choice," Torma explained, giving Josi her best puppy dog eyes as she looked over your head.

Josi sighed. "What if Y/N comes dancing with us? Would you go to Rita's then?"

Your eyes widened at the suggestion. "I don't think-"

"Oh, please Y/N?" Torma begged, setting down her knife and putting her palms together. "Please please please? You haven't gone out with us yet!"

You scrunched your face at the idea. Drinking, dancing, and being near so many people... Was not your idea of a relaxing evening. "I'm not sure... I don't really drink," you said quietly.

"But you don't have to drink! You can just watch us be silly and bad at dancing," Josi enthused, setting down her own knife. "Come ooon, you know you want to see us make fools of ourselves!"

The thought of them stumbling around together on a dance floor did bring a smile to your face. "As long as you guys don't abandon me," you decided, your words resulting in enthusiastic high fives from your coworkers, only making you smile wider.

"Yes! Okay, we can either pick you up from your apartment at seven, or you can meet us at Rita's at the same time," Josi said.

"Uhh... Pick me up from my apartment, I think. Otherwise I might just stay home," you admitted sheepishly.

"Then we'll pick you up at seven o'clock sharp," Torma declared.

The rest of your shift passed quickly, with you leaving around five. You bid goodbye to your coworkers, promising them that you would be ready and enthusiastically awaiting their arrival in two hours.

You walked home, enjoying the slightly warmer weather that Velaris was having today. The sun was shining brightly, even as it began its descent below the horizon.

Still, even the lovely weather couldn't shake the feeling in your bones that something unexpected would happen today, good or bad.

And you were proven right when you arrived to your building, Feyre standing outside of the locked door, looking...

Angry.

Furious.

Your heart picked up in your chest, beating rapidly as you tried to assess why she would be angry... The only reason you could come up with was, well... Why you were standing outside of an apartment building.

"Hello, Feyre," you said, as neutrally as you could with your heart hammering in your chest.

"Y/N," Feyre said coldly, her hands pointing to the doorknob. "Let me in?"

Your brows scrunched together, but you unlocked the door, letting Feyre pass through before you. You led her upstairs, pausing before your door. Should you let her in...? You sighed and unlocked the door, allowing Feyre to enter your apartment. Your safe space.

You only hoped it continue to feel that way, after this visit.

"So... You moved out without telling me? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? How worried I've been?!" Feyre growled at you once the door was shut behind you.

"Worried?" You asked with a mirthless chuckle. "You've been worried? I was gone for a week, Feyre! A week, and you couldn't be bothered to notice until Mor did!" You yelled at her, your own anger at your situation bubbling up. "Besides, it's not like I could leave the fucking city without your approval anyways, so what do you have to be worried about?! That I'm making my own life, with people who actually care about me?!" Feyre opened her mouth to respond, but you didn't give her the chance. "I felt like nothing but a burden, an annoyance in that house," you hissed. "And if you had actually cared about me, you would've noticed I moved out last Wednesday. And you would've noticed when I got a job. And you would have remembered that I cannot. Read." Tears filled your eyes as you brought up that little tidbit, the sting of it fresh whenever you thought of it. Water had begun pooling in Feyre's eyes, and you knew that if she spoke you would forgive her, even if you didn't want to. "Now get out, Feyre, unless you've decided that my apartment is now your property as well. Come back when you actually realize why I moved out," you said coldly as you opened the door, staring expectantly at her.

She did as you asked, passing through the doorway mere minutes after she entered. Feyre turned to you, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I do care for you, Y/N. But you've got to stop acting like living at the River House was torture."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, slamming the door in her face and locking it tightly.

Not that it would stop her, if she really wanted in...

You spent the rest of your time before your coworkers showed up curled in your bed, pillows piled around you and blanket pulled over your head. It was only when you peeked at the clock and saw it was ten to seven that you pulled yourself from your cocoon.

Hair brushed out and a small amount of eyeliner and pale pink rouge and lipstick applied, you quickly changed into a different dress. Your cozy black cotton dress was changed to a flowing, sapphire blue silk gown. The sleeves were loose, wider once they met your forearms, and the modest cut and floor length skirts left you feeling secure and covered. You felt pretty in it, one of the few nicer gowns you had taken from your closet in the River House.

You had just pulled on your boots and cloak when a knock fell on your door, Josi and Torma waiting outside.

"How did you get in the building?" You asked with a laugh as you locked up.

"Well, one of the other tenants had just walked in when we arrived, so we slipped inside!" Josi explained, locking arms with you as the three of you left the building.

"Ahh, that explains it."

"Yes. Now, let's get to Rita's! It's cold as balls out here," Torma groaned, taking your other arm and dragging the two of you along faster.

The air in Rita's was hot, a welcome reprieve from the winter chill outside. Josi went to order drinks for the three of you, while Torma led you over to a booth in the back of the bar.

The two of you had just settled in when Josi came back, four drinks in her hands. She set two in front of you, one was water, the other was pink and sparkling, smelling of strawberries and a hint of alcohol.

"I know you said you don't drink, but I thought I would get you something just in case! I had the bartender make it less strong for you. And if you don't have it, I'll drink it anyways," Josi giggled as she slid into the booth next to you, already sipping her own drink.

Normally you wouldn't have dared to touch alcohol, but your conversation with Feyre earlier... You could use a distraction. And, you were with your trusted coworkers.

You took a small sip of the drink, delighted at the way the liquid was fizzing in your mouth. It tasted as it smelled, primarily of strawberries with the slightest hint of alcohol- champagne, you thought.

"Thank you, Josi, it's delicious."

"I'm glad you like it! Oh- Torma, we have to dance to this one!" Josi squealed, setting her drink down and sliding out of the booth, pulling Torma along with her.

You watched them dance, sillier with each song as Josi had said they would, sipping your drink. You started feeling light, tipsy like you had at the one party you'd drank at, when you still lived in the human lands.

Maybe that was why you hadn't noticed him, until he was standing directly in front of you, wings tucked in behind him.

"Oh- hi, Azriel," you said quietly, a flush on your cheeks as you smiled at him.

"Hello, Y/N. I didn't expect to see you here," Azriel replied, sliding into the booth across from you. "You look like you're having a nice time."

You bobbed your head to the beat of the music. "I am. Josi and Torma convinced me to come out tonight. And I am glad they did, otherwise Feyre would have ruined my day," you giggled, the sting from your interaction with her not present with the alcohol running through your veins.

"You spoke with Feyre?" Azriel asked, a curious look on his face.

You sighed heavily and took another small sip of your drink. "Yeah, she was at my place when I got off work, and was mad that I moved out without saying anything. But really, it took her a week to notice!" You vented. "Not to mention she didn't even remember that I couldn't read... Nesta and Elain I understand since they hate me but..." you trailed off, a frown on your face.

One of Azriel's hands slid over your own, grasping it gently. "I'm sorry that you've been let down so thoroughly by your sisters, Y/N. I am happy to know that you're still living how you want, and making friends too."

You smiled dreamily at him. How was he so nice to you? "Thank you, Azriel. I'm glad that you're my friend, you're really nice."

Azriel smiled softly at you, his hazel eyes crinkling at the edges.

One of his shadows tangled itself in your hair, rubbing against your neck and drawing your eyes away from Azriel's. "Your shadows are so silly," you giggled, tickling the shadow with a finger.

"They seem to like you a lot," Azriel remarked, watching as more of his shadows nuzzled themselves against you. "By the way, I wanted to ask you if you're up for a surprise on Saturday, before we have dinner."

You blinked at him for a moment, your thoughts coming more slowly with what you'd drank. "Uhm... Is it a fun surprise? Or like... dragging me to a family dinner surprise?"

Azriel's lips pressed together, the corners of his mouth still tilting upwards. "A fun surprise, I promise. And if you don't like it, we can leave right away."

"Mm... Sure, I don't see why not," you said, trying to come up with what kind of surprise he would plan.

"Good," Azriel smiled. Josi and Torma had wandered back over to the table, fresh drinks for themselves in hand. "I'll let you spend time with your friends," he said, sliding out of the booth.

"Thank you for saying hi, Az," you said sweetly, smiling happily at him. "I'll see you on Saturday!"

Azriel nodded, a slight flush on his cheeks as he turned away, going back to whichever table he had been at.

"Oooh," Josi said from beside you, elbowing you gently in the side. "Someone has a crush on the Shadowsinger!"

You scrunched your face at her, but couldn't get the smile to slide off of your face. "No I don't," you whined.

"Oh yes you do," Torma joined in, poking your leg with a foot. "And I dare say he has one on you as well."

You blushed further at that idea, shaking your head. "No, no, we're just friends!" You insisted, but both of them gave you a knowing look.

"Uh-huh," Josi giggled from beside you. "Just let us know when you start dating, hmm?"

"It's not like that!" You giggled, gently slapping her on the arm. "It's not!"

Torma rolled her eyes playfully at you from across the booth. "Sure, Y/N. Now, do you want to dance with us?"

You looked out at the dance floor. You'd never been one for dancing, since you'd missed out on the years of lessons that Nesta and Elain had gotten. But...

You drained the rest of you drink, about a third of it, and scooted into Josi. "Let's go dance!"

🤍🤍💙🤍🤍

The next morning, you'd woken up with a slight hangover, which had been easily cured with a large glass of water, some dry toast, and a long bath.

Josi and Torma had grinned at you the whole day, talking about how they needed to take you out more often now.

You wouldn't say yes every time but... It had been nice spending time with them, and dancing had been more fun than you'd thought, with a bit of bubbly running through you.

The five days before you would see Azriel again- when you would know what surprise he had planned- passed by quickly at work, but dreadfully slow while you were alone at home.

You had taken to filling out the handwriting book that Mor had given you, your letters improving with every time you wrote them. And you felt you were nearing the point that you could attempt to read children's books, perhaps the book of fables that Rhysand had given to you for your birthday.

Feyre had yet to visit again, something you were grateful for. If she couldn't understand that being trapped and kept here like a forgotten pet, or worse, a chew toy for your sisters, was your problem? Then you didn't want to see her.

You were lonely while you weren't at work, but you could handle that. After all, you had time with Azriel after work today, and you and Mor were having another sleepover tomorrow night.

You had just started washing up to leave work when a shadow snuck into your hair, alerting you to Azriel's presence, likely in the dining room. You giggled at it, gently poking it with a wet finger before you dried off your hands. Sure enough, Azriel was stood in the dining room, talking with Sevenda in a hushed tone, both of them quieting when you walked through the curtain separating the kitchen from the front of house.

"Ah, Y/N! Someone came to pick you up," Sevenda said with a smile, winking at you when Azriel had his head turned.

You rolled your eyes at her, turning your attention to Azriel. "Come to take me to the surprise?"

"I am, in fact," Azriel nodded, extending a hand to you.

You took it without thinking, letting him lead you out of Sevenda's restaurant and into the snowscape of Velaris. His hands were soft, even with the scars that you knew covered them, and the calluses that you knew he should have, being a warrior and all.

His shadows were buzzing around the two of you excitedly, mirroring that of their master. Something about where you were going had Azriel as close to giddy as you could ever see him getting, a slight smile stuck to his face, his wings twitching every now and then.

Soon enough you came to a stop in front of a large building, various magical creatures painted onto the sign above the door.

Velaris... Animal... Shelter?

You blinked at the sign, confused. Surely you hadn't read that right.

"Come inside, I think you'll like it," Azriel said, gently tugging you into the building. Once inside, your ears were met with so many different sounds: meows, barks, bird trills, growls, hisses. There were a few rooms, all separated with glass walls and doors, filled to the brim with animals.

You were instantly drawn to the room housing felines- there were so. Many. Kittens!

"Oh my gods, can we go in?!" You asked Azriel, your face flushed from excitement and the cold as you met his hazel gaze.

"Of course we can, we just need to keep all of them inside the room." Azriel opened the door for you, letting you pass through first.

"Oh, they're so cute!" You squealed, approaching a pile of kittens, all conked out. You sat on the floor next to them, petting all of their fuzzy little heads and milk filled tummies, delighting in the squeaks they let out.

"This is an amazing surprise, Azriel," you told him once he sat down next to you, his wings drawing the attention of some of the active kittens.

"Being here isn't the only surprise," Azriel said. "If you'd like, you can take one home. I've already picked out some possible furniture you might like for the little one, if you decide to have one."

You gaped at him, completely shocked. "I can... I can take one home?" You asked, looking back at the kittens with new eyes. You could have a companion... Someone just for you.

"You can," Azriel said warmly, a smile on his lips when you looked back at him.

A grin spread across your face and your launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

His arms wrapped around you for a moment before you pulled away. "You're welcome, Y/N. I thought you might like to have a companion at home."

"Well you were right," you said giddily, turning back to the kittens. All of them were so adorable, so sweet while they were sleeping. But you would want one that was calmer while awake, matching your energy levels.

You and Azriel stayed in that room for two hours, playing with kittens and talking about what you'd both been up to over the past five days.

"The elections are heating up, and thankfully Rhys and Feyre sent me to the Hewn City to help protect the candidates going against the current leaders," Azriel told you as he let four kittens climb over him, even onto his shoulders and head. "Mor sends her love, by the way."

You smiled, both at the sight and the mention of your shared friend. "That's sweet of her, we get to have a night together tomorrow, which will be even more fun with my new little one," you said. "I still don't know which one I want, though."

"Take your time, you want to get one that you'll bond with well," Azriel suggested.

You looked around to room, trying to find any kittens that you hadn't interacted with yet. There, on one of the shelves... Mostly hidden behind a fluffy bed stuffed onto the shelf was a tiny kitten with glowing green eyes, her beautiful silvery coat shimmering even in the slight darkness of the shelf. You crawled over to her, extending a hand back to let her sniff. She hissed softly at you once, but let you run your fingers across her head, purring at the first touch.

Oh yes. This one.

She seemed slightly afraid of everything, hissing gently when you plucked her from her spot and cradled her in your arms. She was so tiny, and her fur was so soft and puffy, you wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be a total fluff ball. Her tummy fur was the palest pink color, absolutely adorable. And her silvery fur had streaks of light tan running through it, along with slightly darker streaks of grey.

She was perfect. And the way her eyes closed as you pet her was so comforting to watch, you knew that you had found your fur child that you wanted to take home.

"I want her," you said to Azriel, tilting her in your arms so he could see her better. "She's so cute, and she seems nervous, like me."

Azriel laughed softly. "She's very cute, Y/N. Do you know what you'd want to name her?"

You looked down at her, trying to think of something that would suit her. At the same time, she let out the tiniest little squeak, that sounded like a soft 'eek.'

"M'aiq. Cause she's mine, and she made a little eek noise," you said, nodding your head at the name.

"M'aiq... That's a cute name for a cute little Starfall kitten."

"Starfall kitten?" You asked, wondering if that's why her eyes glowed green.

"Yes, every year, in the two months after Starfall, about one in every litter is born with a Starfall spirit inside of them. Or, at least, that's the explanation I've heard for why their eyes glow," Azriel explained, beginning to place the kittens that had climbed onto him back on the ground.

"Awe... You're even more special, my little M'aiq," you said cheerily, nuzzling your nose against hers.

Azriel led you out of the glass room and to the counter, where a fae took M'aiq and put her into a small carrier. He then led you into the shelter's store, where they had plenty of furniture, toys, and anything else you would need in stock.

You picked out a tall, carpeted structure that had a few platforms that M'aiq could rest on, as well as four different beds meant for small felines. A magically cleaning litter box and several food and water dishes also came home with you, as well as many, many toys.

His shadows sent everything to your apartment besides M'aiq in her little crate, which Azriel picked up for you. You tried to pry it out of his hands, but instead he slipped his free hand into yours and began leading you back to your apartment. Along the way you stopped in the Palace of Bone and Salt, picking up the things you would need for a simple pot roast dinner, seeing as you would be distracted for the rest of the evening.

Once you were inside the apartment, you immediately snagged M'aiq's crate from Azriel and pulled her out of it and into your arms.

"You're so cute," you cooed to her, petting her tiny head slowly.

You felt Azriel's eyes on you before you saw them, glancing up and smiling warmly at him. He looked away, the slightest blush on his face.

He is, too.

You placed M'aiq into one of the many cat beds now decorating your apartment, this one placed at the foot of your bed. "Stay there, sweetie, while I make dinner," you told her, her nervous green eyes on you. "I'll make you something, too, don't you worry."

Azriel was smiling softly at you when you turned to the kitchen, the expression making his face even more beautiful than normal.

You'd never understood how a male could be pretty, until now. But now you knew why Feyre called Rhysand the most beautiful male she had ever seen, because you thought that might be true of the winged male in currently in your kitchen.

"Did you need help with dinner?" He asked as you approached the bag of food he had placed on the counter.

"Hmm... I suppose since this isn't me paying you back for anything, you can help this time," you decided, setting out two cutting boards and handing him a knife. "Cut the potatoes into halves then quarter the halves, slice the carrots half an inch thick, and the onions into eighths please."

Azriel nodded and began rinsing the potatoes and carrots, while you grabbed some chicken from your cold box, dicing it after you started a flame under a pan with a bit of oil in it.

You balanced cooking the chicken for M'aiq and braising the roast while Azriel cut all of the vegetables, finishing at the perfect time, right when you needed them all to be added to the pot.

Azriel took over seasoning the roast while you fed M'aiq for the first time, grinning from ear to ear as you watched her devour half of the chicken that you had cooked for her. You'd get the portions down in no time.

With the roast in the oven, you and Azriel relaxed on the couch for a while, M'aiq in your lap.

After a little bit, Azriel had his shadows bring him a few reports after he made sure you would be okay with it, quietly filling them out with the scratch of his quill on the paper.

You decided, since you had tipsily told him that you were illiterate at Rita's anyways, that you would work on your handwriting in the book Mor had given you again, fighting the blush that had overtaken your cheeks.

But he said nothing about what you were doing, only giving you one curious glance before returning to his own work.

He was thoughtful like that. He thought about what would make you uncomfortable.

Your heart thumped in your chest at the feelings you were developing, ones that you had been fighting so hard to keep at bay.

But you were failing.

You were failing because this sweet, caring, thoughtful male did nothing but make your life brighter, Shadowsinger or not.

Doing your best to keep your attention on your workbook, you passed the rest of the time until the roast was done in a comfortable silence, the scratching of quills, crackling of logs, and M'aiq's soft purrs the only sounds in your ears.

Azriel checked the roast for you, after you had complained about having to move M'aiq when she was so comfortable and sleeping... And then he brought a bowl over to you along with a napkin, eating his own on the couch as well.

You felt so comfortable near him, even sitting so close, unaccompanied by anyone else. Two and half years ago you would have balked at the idea, the impropriety of it. But Azriel had been nothing but gentlemanly toward you, even when he had flown you up to the House of Wind.

And really... You would never be the whore that Nesta claimed you to be, after all you had never even been kissed in your twenty years of life, let alone had relations with someone. Just the thought of that sent anxiety through you. No, you would not have sex with someone until you were married, as you had been raised to do. You even... You even found it romantic, to save yourself for your future spouse.

So, being alone in your apartment with Azriel? That was an impropriety you were willing to overlook.

Azriel left your apartment near eleven at night, having spent extra time with you while you helped M'aiq settle in to her new home.

When you shut the door behind him, your heart fluttering from his presence, and now absence.

You turned your attention down to the fluffy ball in your arms. "What do you say, M'aiq? Are you ready for bed?"

Her soft squeak was enough of an answer for you. You settled her on the bed, next to your pillow while you washed your face and dressed for bed.

You laid down next to her, covers pulled up to your shoulders, with a hand poking out so you could pet her as you went to bed.

You didn't feel quite so lonely, laying in the dark now.

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

As soon as you exited work, you were assaulted by way of an aggressive hug from a bouncy blonde. Mor swung you around, giggling.

"I'm so excited to see you!" Mor yelled, squeezing you tightly.

"I'm excited to see you too, Mor!" You giggled after she set you on your feet again. "So, what's the schedule like for tomorrow?"

"Well," Mor started as the two of you began walking to your apartment. "I have to be back in the Hewn City by noon, and... I have a family dinner to go to tonight," Mor said with a sigh. "So I won't be with you for dinner, but I'm planning to book it out of there and have dessert with you!"

You nodded in understanding. "That's fine, Mor, but you should come to my apartment first! I have something to show you."

"Oh?" Mor asked, quirking a brow at you. "What is it?"

"If I told you now, it wouldn't have the same effect!" You insisted as you let her into your building, following her up the stairs. Your door swung open, and you heard the skitter of claws on wood. "Oops, I think the door spooked her."

"Her?" Mor asked, looking around before her eyes locked the far wall. "She's under the bed."

"Oh, M'aiq!" You called as you pulled off your boots before crawling next to the bed. "Come on out, sweetie, Mor is your friend," you said softly, rubbing your fingers together to draw her out. No luck, though, especially when Mor kneeled down to peer under the bed. M'aiq actually hissed at her, spitting and everything. You hated that she was distressed but... She was so cute.

"Awe, she's adorable!" Mor whispered. "And she's a Starfall kitten, oh that's so sweet. You know, they tend to bond strongly to their owners, some are even able to communicate with them. Not talking," Mor giggled when you gave her a wide eyed look. "More like... Their emotions can be shared with you, similar to daemati, but it's just a connection between them and their person. Maybe your little M'aiq will do the same."

You looked back to her, where she was now sitting, pressed tightly against the wall but no longer hissing. "That would be so cool," you whispered.

Four hours later and Mor was back in your apartment, lounging on your bed with you, M'aiq laying inbetween.

"So, besides the kitten, what else is new?" Mor asked you, popping a chocolate into her mouth a moment later.

"Well..." You blushed. "I... I like Azriel..."

Mor grinned at you. "I knew you would! And honestly, I don't see why he wouldn't like you. The two of you are so well suited for each other."

You shook your head. "I don't think so Mor, I'm... I'm human," you whispered, your eyes stinging.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Mor asked seriously, tilting your chin back up so you would look at her. "So, you're human. Why does that matter?"

"Well, because... Because I won't be around for long, and it's cruel to shackle someone to me when I'll be old and grey in such a short time," you admitted, finally giving voice to your doubts.

"Who says you'll get old and grey?" Mor asked. "Maybe there's a way for you to not age, we just haven't found it yet. And besides, it's Azriel's choice if he decides to pursue you, he would know the possible outcomes. You deserve to be happy, Y/N," Mor said softly, her own eyes shining with tears. "I know that you're stuck here, and you would prefer to be in the human lands, but you still deserve to have happiness here, and if that means having a partner? Then that's what you should do, sweets."

You sniffled at her words, willing your tears to not fall as you stroked M'aiq. "Maybe... Maybe you're right... But I still don't think he likes me in that way," you said quietly.

"Well, I think what you think is wrong. I've never seen Azriel smile as much as he does when he's with you," Mor giggled, causing you to do the same. "And the two of you look so cute together!"

"Mor, stop," you laughed. "I don't want to get my hopes up..."

"Okay, okay. I'm just saying..."

You scrunched your nose at her. "Different topic. Tell me how things have been going with the election?"

"Well..."

🤍💙💘💙🤍

Friday night you and Azriel had planned to spend the evening together, but you were surprised to see him on Wednesday evening, after knocking on your apartment door.

"Hello, Azriel," you greeted. "What are you doing here?" Your eyes darted down, seeing his shadows swirling around his legs, a few darting out to brush against your legs. But more interesting was the box in his hand, pink with a matching ribbon tied in a cute little bow wrapped around it.

"I, uhm-" Azriel stammered for a moment before taking a breath. "I came here today because I want to ask you on a date, Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart stopping. "I- what?"

Azriel's mouth tilted up in the corners. "I want to take you out on a date. I want to spend time with you, have a chance to court you. I like you, Y/N. And I was thinking we could go out for dinner on Friday night, if you decide to say yes."

Your brain short circuited. He- he likes you?

"I- Is this a joke?" You asked in a small voice, your heart bracing for the answer you were dreading.

Azriel's eyes saddened for a moment, his hands twitching where they were holding the box. "No, Y/N, I would never joke about this. I like you, very, very much. And I would very much like it if you joined me for dinner Friday night at seven," Azriel said softly, his eyes locked on yours. They shone with nothing but the truth, soothing your worries and sending heat to your cheeks.

A small smile slid onto your lips. "I... I'd like that very much, as well."

Azriel's smile at your words set your heart ablaze, the fire of your feelings stoked by the knowledge that he shared them as well. "Good, good. This is for you," Azriel said, placing the box into your hands once you held them out, his fingers brushing against yours. Just that little touch sent flutters through you, your blush deepening. "It's Elain's recipe, the white chocolate raspberry cake that you love," he explained. "I thought, even if you did not share my feelings, that you might like something sweet anyways," Azriel admitted, rubbing a hand against the back of his head.

"Thank you, Azriel," you said softly, touched that he would still care for you, even if you'd rejected him. "I'll... I'll see you at seven on Friday?" You asked shyly, still in disbelief.

"I'll see you then, Y/N," Azriel said, raising one of your hands and pressing his lips to the back of it. "Sleep well, dear."

Your heart thumped in your chest, hard enough you thought it might beat out of your chest. "You too," you said quietly, watching as he smiled once more at you, before disappearing down the stairs.

You shut the door, leaning against it after you locked it.

Had that really just happened?

Your eyes drifted down to the box in your hands, proof that Azriel had visited, had brought you it, had... Had...

Oh gods, you had no idea of what to do for a first date!

You set the box on a kitchen counter, opening it to see an adorable, heart shaped cake, decorated with pretty pink swirls of icing. It made you giddy, knowing that the cake was a present from a suitor. From Azriel. You cut a slice for yourself and grabbed a fork, taking the plate over to the table.

The cake was as delicious as you remembered, and M'aiq jumped onto the chair next to you, watching as you ate.

"If only you could give dating advice, little cutie," you mused, having another bite. No, you'd have to go see Mor for help.

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next morning, you knew that Mor was in town, visiting the River House to give a report on the upcoming elections to Rhys and Feyre- early, too, before you started your work day.

You bundled up early, your nerves getting the better of you. You needed her advice, and you needed it before Friday. Which meant this morning was your only option, even if it meant going to the River House...

You entered your former home, filled with anxiety. There was no way to tell how this would go, given your last encounter with Feyre, but you were determined to get what you needed, and that was a conversation with Mor.

Luckily for you, she, Feyre and Rhys were sat at the dining table, having breakfast. Mor was chugging coffee until she saw you, setting her cup down and rushing out of her chair.

"Oh, Y/N! I'm so happy to see you!"

"I am too, Mor, I was-" You looked at Rhys and Feyre. "I was hoping I could talk to you, if that's alright?" You asked nervously.

Mor glanced back at the two of them before nodding. "That's fine, sweets, what did you need?"

"Uhh... Can we go outside, to talk?" Mor nodded and followed you to the front door, slipping on her coat before leaving the warmth of the River House. You walked a little bit away before talking, you didn't want anyone besides Mor to know. "Okay, so... Remember how you said that Azriel might like me...?"

"Oh mother!" Mor exclaimed. "He asked you out, didn't he?!"

You blushed and nodded your head. "Yes, last night, and for tomorrow night. But I- I've never been on a date before," you confessed, wringing your mittened hands together. "I don't know what to do, I don't know what's expected. I've never- I've never even been kissed!"

Mor placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Oh, hon! Nothing will be expected except for you to give it an honest try, and to be yourself! And as for never being kissed, I could change that," Mor offered, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You swatted her arm, shaking your head at her. "You're very pretty, Mor, but I don't like you that way," you giggled. "But... But what if he... What if he doesn't understand that I'm... saving myself," you whispered, "For marriage?"

"Y/N, if Azriel is in any way demanding sex from you, then he doesn't deserve you. I also don't think Azriel is that kind of male, he seems like a true gentlemale, in my opinion."

Her words soothed the anxieties in your chest, calming you down. "I don't think he would either," you said shyly. "But I... I also don't know what to wear."

Mor's eyes lit up even more, and she clapped her hands together. "Oh, oh! We can go shopping when you get off work today! I'll make sure I can stay in town until eight tonight, okay? And I'll see if I can come over tomorrow evening before you leave and help you get ready, if you'd like?" Mor asked.

"Really, Mor? That would be lovely," you said, hugging your friend. She squeezed you back. "Thank you, I'll see you at five, yes?"

"Yes you will, sweets. Now, you get to work, and I'll get back to that meeting. See you later!" Mor said with a wave, turning around the way you came.

Your shift passed incredibly slowly, your mind drifting to every way that the date could go right- and also wrong. You had nearly driven yourself crazy by the time you had washed up and left the building, Mor waiting by the door with two steaming cups of tea in each hand.

"Let's get shopping, sweets!" Mor said brightly, handing a tea to you and leading you to a dress store in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. It was a different one than you had gone to for your Starfall dress, for which you were thankful.

Mor lead you through the store, showing you dress after dress in styles and colors that you loved. All the while, she gave you little tips of advice, most of them along the lines of "be yourself and know that he is just as if not more nervous than you are."

After trying on ten different dresses, you settled on a rose pink silk dress with a modest neckline and floor length skirts. The sleeves billowed out before coming in at your wrists, the silk laying across your body in a flattering fashion. You could safely say that your body had filled out over the past month, what with you eating a small lunch at work and having dinner most nights. Your curves were more pronounced, a bit closer to how you had been before being taken to Velaris.

Mor had also insisted on buying you heeled boots in a matching shade of pink, a gold heart buckle keeping the strap in place. They were cute enough that you didn't fight her on accepting them.

She walked you home, parting with a strong hug and a promise to come by a bit after you got off work tomorrow.

But for tonight? You had another slice of cake, then snuggled up with M'aiq under the covers, using her purrs to chase away your racing thoughts.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

"You look gorgeous, Y/N!" Mor squealed as she stood back, having put the finishing touches on your makeup. "What do you think?"

You looked in the mirror, taking in the very light blush on your cheeks, the softly glittering pale pink eyeshadow on your lids, brown eyeliner complimenting your eyes, making them look even softer than normal.

"I agree! You do an amazing job every time, Mor," you praised, standing to hug your friend tightly. "Thank you so much for helping me get ready, today and yesterday."

"Oh, sweets, it's no trouble at all! In fact, it's been so long since my own first date that it's bringing back this memories, how fluttery your stomach gets when you see them..." Mor sighed happily. "Well, I should get going, otherwise Keir will riot."

"When are the elections over, again?" You asked as you walked her to the door.

"In two weeks, thank the mother," Mor groaned. "Then I get a nice, long vacation for three weeks."

"Just two more weeks, you can do it!" You encouraged, wishing there was something you could do to make it shorter.

"Yes, I know... And you had better tell me everything that happens tonight!"

You giggled at her words. "I will, Mor!"

"Everything!" Mor yelled as she went down the stairs.

You shut the door looking at the clock. Half past six. That was plenty of time for you to feed M'aiq her dinner and get dressed. And luckily for you, cooking something would keep your mind occupied enough to not panic about Azriel's impending arrival.

Your little child was fed and your dress pulled onto your body, pink boots slid onto your feet. All you had left to put on was your cloak, mittens and scarf, but that could wait until right before you left. Five minutes passed dreadfully slowly, and at 6:57 you pulled on your winter gear and descended the stairs after saying goodbye to M'aiq.

Waiting for you just outside the building door was Azriel, a bouquet of roses- red, lavender and white- in his hands.

"Hi, Azriel," you said, a blush instantly coming to your cheeks at the sight of him in a fine black shirt and pants, a change from his normal Illyrian leathers. The shirt clearly showcased his physique, something that you could appreciate. He had no knife belt on him tonight, his waist looked a bit barren without it.

"Good evening, Y/N." He pressed a kiss to the back of your mittened hand before pressing the bouquet into your hands. "I thought you might like some flowers," he said with a small smile, one that you easily returned.

"I love flowers, and these are absolutely beautiful," you said, raising them to your face to smell them. "And they smell lovely as well."

"I'm glad to hear it. Would you like to take them upstairs, or my shadows can, if you'd like?"

You bit your lip. If you went back upstairs... You might chicken out. "If your shadows could take them, that would be nice." In the next moment, the bouquet was out of your hands, whisked away by his shadows to the vase in your apartment. "So, where are we going for dinner?" You asked, locking your arm with his after he held it out, your hand holding onto his muscled forearm.

"It's an Illyrian restaurant, I helped the owner and his cousin leave the camps sixty or so years ago, and I've found that, except for your cooking, it's my favorite restaurant in all Velaris," Azriel explained as you strolled towards the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

"Really? That's so amazing, that you're part of the reason their dreams came true," you said, even more enamored with the male beside you. "You're going to have to recommend things to me, I wouldn't know where to start," you giggled.

Azriel smiled down at you. "How about we share a couple of dishes? That way you can try whichever ones catch your eye."

You met his eyes, a smile on your own lips. "That sounds perfect, Azriel."

His eyes sparkled as he opened a door for you, a hand on your lower back guiding you through, sending a renewed flush to your face.

You were seated a moment later, in a cozy booth near the back of the restaurant, two menus placed on the table. Azriel ordered a pot of tea for the two of you to share, which warmed your heart.

He already knew you so well.

"Now, what sounds good to you, dear?" Azriel asked, the pet name sending your heart into overdrive.

You looked down at the menu, but with your excitement and still somewhat illiterate eyes, you were lost. You bit your lip for a moment before deciding what to do. "What if you order your favorites, because I am overwhelmed by choice?" You asked, relieved when Azriel nodded his head.

"That would be their beef stew, made with Illyria native vegetables and their roasted Illyrian trout with roasted vegetables. Do those sound good?" Azriel asked. You nodded your head- both of those sounded fantastic, and you were excited to see what he enjoyed most.

When the server returned with your tea, Azriel ordered the food before returning his attention to you, the weight of it making your breath catch in your throat.

"So..." You started, entirely unsure of what to say.

"I'm glad you decided to come out with me," Azriel said, his eyes soft as they met yours.

"I am too," you said shyly. "I'm still... Shocked that you asked me to come out, though."

A soft frown slipped onto Azriel's face, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. "Really? I'd thought..." Azriel's own face heated a bit. "I thought that I was rather obvious with my affections. I might be the spymaster of this court, but I'm woefully inept at hiding my own feelings, at least... When it comes to you," He admitted, voice low and gentle.

"So... We both like each other... And thought we were bad at hiding it?" You giggled.

"I suppose so," Azriel chuckled. "But truly, I am very happy that you're here tonight, with me. Now, tell me- How is M'aiq settling in?"

Now that was a subject that you could go on and on about, with only having her for a week now.

You had covered how she was doing wonderfully at your place by the time your food arrived, with Azriel dishing your plate for you. The gesture made you smile, all the little ways he took care of you already.

The food was absolutely fantastic, flavor bursting along your tongue. Both of the dishes were spicy, but not so much that you couldn't handle it.

Conversation flowed between the two of you as you ate, just as it always did. You talked about your dreams for the future, the few that you did have at this point, your brain already working Azriel into them- not that you admitted that to Azriel, it was a bit early for those sentiments. Azriel told you a bit more about his upbringing, glossing over the parts of his life before he had befriended Rhysand and been taken in by his mother. You didn't pry, but you were a little curious to know every part of his story, everything that had shaped him into the male you cared for.

Soon enough you were stuffed full of warm, delicious food, the plates in front of you empty. More than that, you were filled with joy from Azriel's company, from how he clung to your every word.

He led you from the restaurant, his hand placed on your lower back once more, the warmth of it radiating through the fabric of your dress. You walked along the Sidra slowly, leaning your head against Azriel's arm, trusting him to keep you from falling.

You were almost halfway home when you heard the most beautiful music, coming from two musicians playing next to a bar, one with a violin and the other with a cello. You slowed your pace, Azriel's arm tightening around you as you did so. Listening for a moment, and gazing up at the brilliantly shining stars above you, you had an idea.

"Azriel, would you dance with me?" You asked him quietly, tilting your head to look at him.

His eyes met yours, a smile glowing within them as well as covering his lips. "I'd be honored, Y/N. So long as you call me Az."

You smiled brightly at him. "It's a deal, Az." You let him turn you in his arms, clasping your right hands together and placing a light hand on your waist. Your other hand came to rest on his shoulder, grasping it lightly.

The two of you swayed together in a small circle to the lovely music, the light of the stars shining down on you.

It was the date of your dreams, if you were being honest. Lovely conversation and food, and such a romantic partner, willing to dance in the snow with you because you asked.

So when you finally arrived at your apartment, you were a bit sad the date was ending. But more than anything, you were excited for everything that lay in the future for the two of you.

Azriel smiled down at you softly, his eyes warm despite the cold temperatures. His wings twitched behind him, just before he leaned in a bit.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked as one of his hands came to cup your cheek gently, so, incredibly gently.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. He leaned in further, allowing you to close the last, tiny gap between your lips.

And when you did, you knew that you would never be the same. His lips were so soft against yours, so gentle and sweet that it stole your breath away.

Your mouth followed for a moment when he pulled away, your eyes fluttering open- you hadn't even realized you'd closed them.

"If it's fine by you, I'd like to see you when you get off work tomorrow," Azriel suggested softly, gaze flicking between your lips and eyes.

"I'd like that," you whispered into the space between you, the tilt of his lips more than worth having to speak so soon after such a life changing kiss.

"It's a date," Azriel said with a smile. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Az," you breathed, unlocking the door of your building. He waited to leave until you were safely inside, the door locked behind you.

You just managed to get into your apartment before you collapsed against the door, overwhelmed by just how perfect the night had been. How perfect Az had been.

🤍💙💝💙🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare

The Afterthought Taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd @kingshitonly @bravo-delta-eccho @bluebries81 @liahaslosthermind @deepestmentalitypersona @historygeekqueen @hermajestysworld @marina468 @esposamultifandom @astrokitty18 @larissa01-blog2 @acourtofbatboydreams @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @thelov3lybookworm @weekendlusting @dxjaaaa @thejediprincess56 @casiiopea2 @butterfix @sirenpearldust @marrass @satiresunflower @mae-foster @boo-shalala @optimisticbabydreamer @sttvrdustt @bunnybella186 @demon-master-zero @jaybbygrl @goodvibesonlyxd

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 12

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose. Also Discussion of toxic media/fandom/death threats.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lando sat on the couch, staring at his phone like it had personally betrayed him. Lizzie, curled up next to him with Mara at her feet, noticed his thumb hovering over the screen, hesitating. She nudged him with her knee.

"Alright, what is it? Did Max send you another cursed meme?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. There was something going on. Something that he hadn't told her yet. 

She had learned to read Lando well enough to pick up on these kinds of unsaid cues. The way he looked, the way he smiled, his eyes just so crinkling at the corners...she knew exactly the titl of his head, the way the right corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile when he read something funny on his phone...She knew. 

And she treasured all these tiny details, hoarded them like a dragon did to it's gold. 

Lando huffed a small laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Worse."

Lizzie's eyebrows furrowed, concern creasing her forehead. That wasn't good.  "Worse? What's worse than Max Verstappen's questionable taste in humor?" she asked, trying to infuse some humour into the situation, but Lando didn't seem interested in that. 

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, you know how I sent that picture of Mara in her Ferrari bandana to Charles?"

Lizzie's face lit up as she nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Yes, how could I forget? The cutest picture I've ever seen."

Her dog was the most adorable dog to ever grace this earth, thank you very much. (She was very much certain that every dog owner had thought that at one moment in time, but she was correct!) 

Lando chuckled and pulled her into his side. She breathed in the scent that was simply him, something fresh and warm and so utterly Lando...feeling his body warmth seep into her, through the thin shirt he was wearing. "Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that a thousand times," he teased. "But you’ll never guess what happened when Charles showed that picture to his girlfriend."

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What, did she think it was so cute it gave her a heart attack?" she joked. Not that she could fault Charles' girlfriend if that was indeed the case. 

"She recognized Mara," Lando said drily. That was not what Lizzie had expected. Actually that was the last thing she had expected.  "Alexandra Saint Mleux," Lando said, watching her reaction carefully. "is apparently a Lizzie Treshton superfan."

Lizzie’s eyes widened. "Wait, seriously?" she asked, a mix of shock and amusement coloring her voice. Really? "A F1 WAG read my books?"

"Not just her," Lando said, shaking his head. "All of them. And they’ve decided they need to meet you. Effective immediately."

Lizzie stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. 

"So what, they started plotting?" she teased.

"Plotting would be an understatement," Lando said, amused. "I have been forcefully added to the WAG council group chat, and they are demanding that I bring you to a race."

The mere idea of being in a group chat with the wives and girlfriends of Formula 1’s elite sounded like a scene straight out of a fanfiction, but apparently it was her real life now. 

"There’s a WAG council?" She asked, shocked besides herself. That sounded...actually, she had no idea what that sounded like. 

"Apparently."

"That’s amazing," Lizzie said, still giggling. 

Lando made a face. "It’s terrifying."

Lizzie bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "Demanding might be a strong word, though, right?"

"Oh, no," Lando corrected, his expression deadly serious. "There were threats, bribes, and full capital letters. Also, they all want signed copies of Seasons of Fate."

Lizzie let out a soft oh of understanding before shaking her head with a grin. "You know, I really didn’t think this was how our relationship was going to get outed," she said drily. Really. This was really not what she had had in mind. 

"Neither did I," Lando admitted. "But the WAGs are apparently above no tactics when it comes to getting their hands on signed books."

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, her curiosity only growing. "So, what exactly did they say?"

Lando sighed, running a hand through his curls. "Well, for starters, Alex offered to ‘whore out her Ferrari golden boy boyfriend’ if it meant getting you to Silverstone."

Lizzie cackled. "She said that?"

"Verbatim," Lando confirmed, looking equal parts entertained and exhausted. "And apparently, Charles will sign whateveryou want if he doesn’t want to be murdered in his sleep."

She burst out in laughter at that. 

"Well, that sounds like... quite the deal," she said, trying desperately to stay serious. "I don’t know whether to be concerned or find it hilariously absurd."

Lando smirked, clearly amused by the situation. "It’s a lot of both," he assured her. "But they're not afraid to play dirty." He grew serious. "I wanted to talk to you before this all blows up. I know we haven’t exactly been hiding, but we also haven’t been, you know, public."

Lizzie sobered slightly, understanding what he was getting at. "You’re worried about what happens when people know."

He nodded. "It’s just… your life is already busy, and the last thing I want is for my world to make things harder for you. The fans, the media, the scrutiny—it’s a lot. And I don’t want you to feel pressured into dealing with that."

Her heart painfully constricted, her expression softened, because it was clear that Lando was worried about this. "I appreciate that," she said sincerely. "But, Lando… I’ve been dealing with fan and media attention for a while now. I thinkI can handle it."

Lando frowned slightly. "Yeah, but F1 media is different. It’s relentless. They’ll speculate about everything, dig through your old tweets, try to twist things. Hell, they’re probably going to turn Mara into some kind of meme."

Lizzie smirked. "I mean, she is an icon. It’s about time the world recognizes it."

Lando groaned. "Lizzie."

She laughed before squeezing his hand. "Look, I won’t pretend it won’t be overwhelming. But I do know that I don’t want to keep pretending we’re just… nothing."

"You know that they’ll be hounding your every move?" he warned her, his voice tinged with concern. "The fans can be ruthless, the media is relentless, and the tabloids—well, they make up their own storylines."

She nodded. "I won’t lie, I know it’s going to be overwhelming. I mean, I have seen what happens when the internet latches onto F1 relationships. But I also know I don’t want to pretend we’re just… nothing. You make me happy, and I don’t want to hide that."

Lando was silent for a moment, his eyes meeting Lizzie's. His thumb traced a gentle circle on the back of her hand as he seemed lost in thought.

“You make me happy too,” he told her, his voice soft. “But they’ll…they’re going to dissect every little thing. If you don’t come to a race, we’ll probably be at the brink of a break up. If you do come, they’ll write ridiculous headlines of you stealing the spotlights. They are going to speculate on how long we’ve been together, probably even come up with wild conspiracy theories..."

She could hear it in his voice, how much it stressed him...how uch even just the thought of people doing that to their relationship was hurting him. 

"Hey," she said softly. "I’m a bestselling fantasy author, Lando. People come up with wild conspiracy theories about my books on a daily basis. I can handle it."

Lando chuckled at that. "Fair point," he admitted, conceding her argument. The tension in his shoulders eased some. "I just…I want you to be sure,” Lando said hesitantly. “The Formula One fandom is another level when it comes to speculating about relationships. And some fans are bloody mental. I have literally received death threats, and I am not the only one. And the media? They are going to be relentless. They’ll ask questions about you at every race, they’ll bring up your epilepsy, they’ll try to spin things."

Lizzie knew that. She was very much aware of that. But Lizzie had lived with her epilepsy for nearly all her life. She already had heard every single horrible thing somebody could say about that. 

Now it would be more of the same. Simply on a bigger stage. 

Was it scary? Yes. 

Did she care? Not really. 

So Lizzie simply squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I know. I’m not naive. And I won’t pretend it doesn’t scare me a little. But I also know I don’t want to let fear dictate my life. We’re in this together, right?"

"Of course, we are."

Lizzie leaned in, resting her forehead against his. "Then let’s do it."

Lando grinned, all traces of his earlier tension disappearing. "You’re braver than me," he said, pulling her closer so he could kiss her forehead. "Are you sure you’re ready for this circus?"

A mischievous glint flashed in Lizzie's eyes. "Honey, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from writing about a war between magical races, it’s that I can handle whatever comes my way."

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at her audacity. "You’re something else, you know that?" he said warmly. 

"Yes," she said, grinning. "So, you’ll take me to Silverstone?"

"I was supposed to be the one inviting you, you know," Lando muttered, feigning exasperation.

Lizzie just smirked. "Too slow, Norris.  Let’s do it. If the WAGs want signed books, I might as well hand-deliver them."

Lando let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine. But the moment we walk into the paddock together, the internet is going to explode."

Lizzie leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back with a knowing smile. "Then let’s give them a show, shall we?"

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter One

masterlist

the sound of feet slammed against the floor. a yell tearing the air. the city lights flashed around their eyes as they held their head in their hands. the body lunging forward with as much force mustered.

his breaths were shaky as he fell to the ground. his body trying to compose itself as he rushed away from where the KDF were attacking the kaiju. the kaiju he could not defeat. this wasn't his first time running away from the fight.

he didn't even want to be there. he just wanted to play baseball, but this is what he gets for coming back to japan to help his father. his father that wasn't even there, that lectured him, that left him and his mother alone. he hated this.

he knew it was wrong of him to run from the scene but he couldn't avoid it. he held his left arm that now stung with pain, running to his motorbike that sat hidden in the dark. 

"ken, the KDF seem to be using excessive force. shall i plot a course back to the battle?" the voice of mina rang through his ears. his eyes following drones that flew by him. "you know what, imma punch out for the night. let the KDF handle it." his smirk that graced his sharp features quickly morphed into a frown as a call from his dad showed on the inside of his helmet.

"right on time, here comes the guilt trip." he sighed. "he's already left 10 messages." mina's robotic voices spoke out as calls of his dad flashed on his screen. "nope! no thanks, i've had my butt kicked enough tonight. please silence all calls, mina. i need some me time." he said focusing on the road ahead of him.

"after your interview with miss wakita, of course." mina briefly mentioned. his figure shot up quickly while still riding. "wait! with the same lady from the press conference?" "yes ken, the same lady from the press conference. and your an hour late." he could only shift down, but looked up and sped up his bike, zooming past cars as he switched lanes like nothing.

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"i heard you're really good at avoiding hard questions." ami's voice spoke up in the dim lighted room, as kenji only slurped at the noodles in front of him. "mmm! these noodles are killer. want some?" the irony of the situation being him avoiding the statement. "i'm okay. thanks. mind if i record?" her soft voice spoke up as she lifted up phone in front of her.

"mm do your thing." he said, uncaring of the situation. "so you've had an impressive career." she started off. "gold glove. silver slugger. tea?" he spoke up picking up the kettle near him as she dismissed his offer with a wave of her hand. "and yet you've never won a championship." she responded back.

he could only put down the kettle and let out a breathy chuckle. "wow. right for the throat." "it's just an observation." she said calmly. "'just an observation.' sure. you know, there are lots of great players who never won titles." his voice laced with defense as her words. "yes. and some say you're better than all of them."

"some?" he could only chuckle while pulling his cup away from his lips. "you have seen me play, right?" he said leaning in tauntingly. it wasn't hard to deny the cockiness that came with his words. his pride was biggest feature besides the skills he boasted about.

"420 batting average. 624 stolen bases." ami responded sitting confidently, her hand lifting in the air, "but?" kenji inquired as he stretched out the word. "but personal stats don't win championships." "so my ego is holding me back?" he assumed as he poured rhetorical sauce from a cup into his noodles, all while aggravated.

"i didn't say that. and to be honest, i'm not here to discuss stats." her voice was loud, laced with confidence but slight annoyance at his behavior. "then why are we discussing stats?" "because players are more comfortable talking about stats then themselves." she remarked back.

"hey i'm happy to talk about me." "great! because i want to know why. why you avoid most interviews, why you keep your teammates at a distance, and why you left a city that loves you to..." her strong tone slowly went quiet as she saw what the man in front of her was doing.

"you know, your supposed to dip your noodles in the sauce." he could only look at her, his eyes peering out from his sunglasses. "i like doing things my way." he could only tauntingly pour the sauce into the noodles. "okay, let's remind. earlier, i asked about your mother."

the interview slowly passed by as he could only zone out from the questions being asked. he felt himself disassociate from the conversation, his whole body on autopilot till the moment he was back home. it was the one place he could relax and get away from those that pestered him.

he could only stand in the holographic life size park that mina loaded onto the room as his body moved forward, swinging his bat as it slammed against the ball. he could only watch as it shot back into the sky at his force. "yeah! that's what i'm talking about!" he yelled excited. it was short lived as pain erupted from his shoulder, reaching out to hold it from the pain.

the robotic sphere known as mina flew down, scanning his body. "ken, it appears that you have sprained your rotator cuff during the battle." the hologram of the park faded away, resulting back into the usual metal room. he walked away as she trailed behind him through the doors. "yup, that's what i get for saving lives."

"ken, it is your duty to save lives." mina said as she hovered behind him. "yeah well i prefer to save my arm and leave the kaijus to the KDF." he said as he walked towards a long couch. "you know what happens when you leave it to the KDF." he could only chuck mockingly as he sat down.

"yeah. i have a double-double, a chocolate shake, and a good nights sleep. now stop trying to be my mother." he said staring mina down. "i am as i was programmed." he only looked down after, tapping his foot against the bottom of his couch.

a cabinet popped out, almost a cooler, showing drinks inside that rolled around. he could only scoff in shock, looking up surprised. "coconut water?!? mina, did you throw my fancy fizzy drinks?" he interrogated.

"healthy choices, healthy body." he could only sigh as he opened a can of coconut water. he took a sip only to clear his throat in disgust. "mmm, taste just like a fart." he said annoyed. "ken, i wonder if you might consider taking a break."

"from drinking farts?" "from baseball." kenji could only look up at mina in shock. "give up the one thing that puts a smile on my face? sorry. no. tv please." mina listened to his command, the tv turning on in response.

the screen showcased the scene from where he had fought the kaiju from above. "more destruction today as the KDF and ultraman battles neronga. as one witness told us..." the news reporters voice quieted down as the news now showed an older lady.

"i love ultraman. always have. he's done so much good in the past." "thank you citizen." kenji told the tv as he rained the coconut water in a cheer. the older lady began to talk. "but he's been gone for months. and now that he's back, it's like he doesn't really care. i mean look at this."

kenji could only sit and stare. "i didn't even want this gig. and now everybody's coming at me." he said getting ready to turn off the tv. until something caught his ear. "but it wasn't all bad. i thought the situation was a lost cause when ultraman bolted from the scene. until someone else came in."

kenji could only stop in shock, confused at what she was referencing. "they came out of nowhere, helping to stop neronga. i don't know who it was but they were just as big as ultraman himself. thank you new hero, thank you."

he stared at the tv as it displayed scenes of someone fighting neronga. 'who was this? where were they this entire time?' another metal hero ran towards neronga, slamming into the kaijus body as they wrestled them down. grabbing its horn, they pushed it down, the kaiju roaring out as a laser shot from its mouth.

the new person summoned a shield as they jumped away from the attack. they could only crouch down in response, jumping into the air, only to land on its back. they grabbed their horn once again, small cracks showing from the force of the heroes grip.

wrapping their arms around its torso, they lifted neronga up. kenji could only watch as they flipped them over with intense strength, body slamming neronga to an already destroyed building, knocking them unconscious. the hero could only stand up proudly, only to jump away from the cameras.

the footage ended there as he stared in disbelief. "who is that? where the fuck did they come from mina?!" he yelled as he turned the tv off, his hands raking through his hair. as far as he knew, he was the only hero here. the only person that had this duty passed down to since his fathers injury. right?

mina could only stare at his face of shock, examining the situation. "ken, please calm down. letting your emotions react this way will cause you to undergo stress, affecting your strained shoulder."

he could only huff out intense breaths, slowly calming down as he moved to sit back down on his couch. 'what was that? why am i barely hearing about them now? why did they only show up after i left the scene? do they work for the KDF?' his head produced question after question, trying to think of what could have been happening.

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soft footsteps walked up stairs till they stopped in front of a door. the source of the noise raised their hand, knocking on the door there times. the door opened slightly, leaving a small crack open. the person behind the door took notice of who knocked. quickly the door opened, shushing them inside the room. "good job on finishing your task (y/n), i am proud of the progress you have made."

they could only smile softly at the praise, giving them a bow as a sign of their gratitude. "thank you professor sato. i could not have come this far if it was not for your help." the pair sat down, slowly getting lost in new tactics that they could use for the next battle.

[mahalachives]

Part 3: Plot? I Don’t Know Her. But Azriel Does.

Summary: You were just rereading A Court of Thorns and Roses in bed when the universe decided to yeet you straight into Prythian, landing face-first in Rhysand’s lap. Now, you're a pajama-clad disaster with Cheeto fingers, emotionally harassing Azriel, befriending Mor, verbally sparring with the High Lords, and naming feral chickens after the Shadowsinger. You may not know why you’re here, but one thing’s for sure: you’re going to make it everyone's problem.

Oops, I tripped Into Prythian - Masterlist

Elain blinked up at you from the velvet armchair, A Court of Mist and Fury open in her lap.

Her voice was calm. Too calm. “What’s… fanfic?”

Everyone turned.

You grinned.

Rhysand whispered, “Cauldron boil me.”

Cassian perked up, excited like a toddler about to learn a new swear word. “Yeah, what is fanfic?”

Mor leaned forward. “Wait, is it like… stories? About us?”

You clasped your hands together. “Oh, sweet summer children. Fanfiction is the sacred art of writing stories about fictional people doing things they should have done but didn’t. It is love. It is chaos. It is 300,000-word slow burns and 1,000-word smutty drabbles written at 2 a.m. with tears and snacks.”

Azriel, from his shadowy corner, muttered, “That sounds… excessive.”

You turned, eyes gleaming. “Azriel. My broody bat. My tragic Victorian husband. There are millions of words written about you.”

He blinked. “Why.”

Cassian leaned forward. “Yeah, why?”

You smirked. “Because, my dear Illyrian himbo, some of us are emotionally unstable and project our issues onto mysterious males with wings and trauma.”

Rhysand slowly slid to the floor. “We’re in hell.”

“Oh no,” you corrected, pulling out your phone (yes, Helion glamour-spelled it to work in Prythian, bless that man). “We’re in AO3.”

Feyre frowned. “AO3?”

“Archive of Our Own,” you said, reverently. “Where the smut flows freely and the plot is optional.”

Elain tilted her head. “What kind of stories do they write?”

You hesitated. “Well, Elain, how comfortable are you with the phrase ‘knife kink’?”

Feyre made a noise. Rhysand choked on air. Azriel just left the room.

Cassian gasped. “Wait. I have a kink?”

You grinned. “Oh, honey. You have several.”

Nesta covered her face. “I hate this. I hate everything.”

Mor was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “I love this.”

You scrolled through your phone, tapping furiously. “Okay. Okay. Listen to this summary: ‘Azriel x Reader. Hurt/comfort. Enemies to lovers. She breaks his nose with a pan. They kiss in the rain.’”

There was a pause.

Then Cassian said, “...Was that based on a true story?”

You looked up. “Not yet.”

You kept scrolling. “Here’s another: ‘Azriel has a pet cat named Murder. Reader is a librarian with anger issues. They fall in love after he gets banned from the library for brooding too loud.’”

Feyre burst out laughing.

Rhysand crawled behind the couch. “Stop. I’m begging.”

You kept going. “Ooh! Here’s a spicy one: ‘The Shadowsinger has needs… and she is willing.’”

Azriel re-entered the room, heard that, and immediately turned around and left again.

“AZRIEL, WAIT,” you called after him. “I HAVE A MODERN AU WHERE YOU’RE A BARISTA WITH TATTOOS WHO SECRETLY WRITES POETRY!”

He did not come back.

Cassian was now on the floor again, wheezing. “Please. Please read more. Do I have any?”

You nodded solemnly. “You are the people’s himbo.”

He looked proud. “I don’t know what that means, but I accept it.”

Nesta was reading over your shoulder now, silently mouthing the phrase ‘tail kink?’ before looking at Cassian like he had explaining to do.

Cassian winked. “It’s canon.”

You turned to Elain, who was quietly reading a fic on your phone titled “Sunlight and Shadows: An Elriel Fanfic.”

She looked up at you, expression oddly serious. “Do… do they all want us together?”

You hesitated. “Uh. Yes. But also… no. Some people ship you with Lucien. Some ship you with Azriel. Some ship you with that one flower you picked in Chapter Twelve.”

Rhysand peeked over the couch. “...Do I have fanfics?”

You gave him a long look. “Rhysand, people have written smut where you turn into a literal shadow tentacle monster.”

He stared.

Feyre slowly turned to look at him.

Rhysand vanished with a soft whoosh of darkness.

“Every time I think we’ve reached peak chaos,” Mor said, “you raise the bar.”

Nesta was now flipping through your phone, face unreadable. “...You said there’s a fanfic where I murder Beron with a hairpin and then make out with Cassian on the throne of flames?”

You nodded. “It has over 80,000 kudos.”

She smiled. “I’d read that.”

“I’d live that,” Cassian said.

You leaned back, grinning like the menace you were. “So. Weekly book club. We alternate between canon and fanfic. Bonus points for smut.”

“Seconded,” Mor said.

“Thirded,” Cassian added.

Elain nodded. “I’m in.”

Feyre shrugged. “Sure.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes at Cassian. “Fine. But only if you read them out loud.”

Cassian paled. “Wait- what?”

Azriel’s voice echoed from the hallway. “I will set this house on fire.”

And you?

You curled up in a pile of pillows, heart full of chaos and questionable taste in fiction, and whispered, “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

To be continued...

(Next time: Azriel accidentally reads a smut fic about himself and questions the very fabric of reality.)

[justarkive]

THE JEONS : 08

08: Father Of The Year Or Fairy Of The Year?

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

contents: family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics sometimes!

• chapter contents: more family fluff, jungkook has been convinced to be the tooth fairy for hanas first tooth falling out… and it fails. hana is BETRAYED.

• taglist: @jenniebyrubies @lovingkoalaface @iamstilljk @elinaki92 @rpwprpwprpwprw @mafersame @parkinglot-nights @reallygenerouskoala @mimi1097 @aznstoner @jungshaking (cmnt to be added)

masterlist, series masterlist

Jungkook had many titles. The epitome of a dilf. Gym enthusiast. Certified wife guy. Ultimate girl dad.

( He made these all up )

But tonight, against his will and better judgment, he was—

The Tooth Fairy.

And he was fucking regretting it.

“Baby,” he whispered, shoving his phone in your face. “Is there any way out of this?”

You grinned, far too amused by his suffering. “Nope. You lost the bet, fairy boy.”

Jungkook groaned into his hands. But a promise was a promise, and he’d rather humiliate himself than disappoint his little princess.

Which is how he ended up standing outside Hana’s bedroom at 11:43 PM, wearing—

A child-sized tutu from her toy box that barely fit around his waist.

One of your old glittery crop tops (it looked so much better on you).

A plastic star headband sitting way too tight on his head.

A blonde, ratty, tangled wig (that he swore smelled like feet).

And the pièce de résistance: a single chopstick with a pom-pom Blu-Tacked to the end, doubling as his “magic wand.”

He looked ridiculous.

And his sweet, innocent daughter was about to suffer for it.

Taking a deep breath, he eased the door open—only to find Hana still very much awake, sitting up in bed with her tiny hands clutching the blanket.

Her eyes widened at the sight of him, pure wonder on her face.

“Toof faiwy?!” she gasped.

Jungkook winced at her excitement. He hadn’t expected her to be so invested in this.

Still, he tried to play the part, high-pitching his voice as he flapped his imaginary wings. “Uh—y-yes, sweet child! ‘Tis I, the T-Tooth Fairy!”

She giggled, bouncing on the mattress.

He felt a brief moment of pride. Maybe he could actually pull this off—

Until the fucking wig slipped.

And his very recognizable face peeked through.

Hana froze.

Her eyes squinted.

And then—

“DADA?!”

Jungkook panicked.

“NO, BABY, I—”

“WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

It was over.

His cover was blown.

Hana wailed, throwing herself back on the mattress like she had been betrayed by the gods.

Jungkook, still gripping his damn pom-pom wand, crouched beside her, scrambling for damage control. “H-Honey, no! I’m not Dada! I’m—uh—Tooth Fairy #2?”

Hana sobbed harder.

You, watching from the hallway, wheezed.

Desperate, Jungkook reached under the pillow and shoved the folded bill into her tiny hands.

But it only made things worse.

Hana sniffled, looking at the money in disbelief.

Then she gasped, wailing, “DADA STEAL!!!”

Jungkook froze.

You collapsed onto the floor, laughing so hard you saw stars.

“B-BABY, NO—”

Hana threw the money at his chest and howled, and Jungkook knew—

This was not the night he’d be winning Father of the Year.

[gggukniverse]

self fulfillment needs | myg

title: self fulfillment needs

pairing: yoongi x reader (+ implied jungkook x reader)

series: basic needs !!!

genre: m, smut, roommates au

summary: two weeks after the kitchen incident where you had sex with your roommate while your other roommate watched you, things seem the same as always but also not the same at all. you try to approach the subject to only cause a fight and another sexual encounter.

warnings: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, yoongi is bi, jungkook is confused my baby :(, sexual tension, dirty talk, she actually tries to dom yoongi at first but... haha, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be safe), a lil edging, hair pulling, teasing, yoongi himself is a warning, choking, face slapping, praising, degradation, he calls reader a slut, begging, spanking, p*ssy slapping, yoongi has a... piercing 🥴, they talk abt jk during sex, mentions of yoongi x jungkook, yoongi is so sweet after sex i'm sad :(

wordcount: 8.8k

note: hi !!! i'm back !! first of all, this is the second part to basic needs so please read that first because you're probably not gonna understand half of this chapter. omg guys this chapter is insane i cant even look at myself in the mirror after writing all of that. i'm still not convinced if it turned out okay, it could've been a lot better, but i hope you enjoy it !!!

-

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it’s been two weeks since the kitchen incident. and things have been weird.

it’s kind of a tricky situation because yoongi and jungkook act just the same as always towards you, like that night never happened in the first place. you find it troubling at first but you soon realize you wouldn’t even know how to approach them about what you did in that kitchen so you just let things flow. the problem is how they act around each other.

you wouldn’t consider yourself being extremely close to them, but with over two years of living together you’ve obviously come to know their dynamic. and you know they’re friends, you’re pretty sure they have different friend groups but you know they are friends and they get along way better than you do with any of them. that’s why you quickly catch on the weird vibe there seems to be between them now.

you’re used to waking up in the morning and finding them having breakfast in the kitchen together while talking about things you don’t really understand, but these days you walk into the kitchen first thing in the morning and don’t find any of them there. and it’s not just about breakfast, it’s about the weird tension between them when you see them bumping in the corridor, the excuses they make up not to be in the living room with you at the same time and the moments you see yoongi trying to make up conversation and jungkook just hums or gives a cold answer before leaving the room.

the worst thing is that your brain tells you it must be your fault. because it must be, right? before the kitchen incident everything was just fine but now that can barely stay in the same room for more than 2 minutes together.

and you don’t mean to snap at them but you can’t stop yourself from doing it one specific morning.

“what the hell is wrong with you two?”

the initial response you get is jungkook choking on his cereal and yoongi turning away from the coffee machine to look at you with such a surprised expression you guess he didn’t expect you to say that.

“what?” jungkook is the first one to talk as he wipes at his chin with a napkin.

“no, don’t try to act dumb now,” you tell him and hear yoongi snort. “you’ve been acting weird as fuck for the past two weeks and i’m so tired of it.”

“i’m not acting weird.” yoongi mumbles as he goes back to the coffee machine.

“i’m not acting weird either-”

“yes you are.” yoongi cuts jungkook off right away.

“hyung, c’mon...”

“you can’t even look at me since that night.” yoongi says but doesn’t raise his voice, he’s not trying to fight.

“i can look at you just fine.” jungkook replies and yoongi just scoffs.

“okay, jungkook.” yoongi hums completely unbothered.

“you’re communicating like 12 year olds,” you say when you’ve had enough and they both look at you again. “if something happened that night to cause all of this you should at least talk about it instead of avoiding each other.”

“nothing happened that night.” jungkook mutters as he finishes his breakfast.

“it sure looks like something happened.” you cross your arms and lean against the door frame.

“jungkookie is too ashamed of what he did that night.” yoongi says and pours the finished coffee in his mug.

you feel a pang in your chest so you look at jungkook with a cocked eyebrow for an explanation.

he is ashamed of that night?

“no!” jungkook looks panicked. “i don’t- i... it’s not like that.” he keeps stuttering and you don’t know what to say. maybe you should’ve considered the chance of them regretting it.

“she doesn’t need any type of reassurance, jungkook,” yoongi speaks again. “we both know she’s not the one you’re having trouble with.”

“hyung.” jungkook says like he’s warning him about something you don’t really understand.

“jungkook.” yoongi replies with the same tone but he currently looks much more calm than jungkook.

“can any of you explain what is happening?” you say in confusion and jungkook just looks down at his almost empty bowl while yoongi turns around to face you with a hand gripping the counter behind him and grabbing his coffee mug with the other.

“jungkook’s never messed around with another boy and now he’s acting like he’s committed a crime.” yoongi explains and you turn to jungkook when you hear him sigh.

“i’m not gay.” he mutters, still not looking up from his cereal.

“i’m not gay either,” yoongi replies like jungkook has said the most stupid thing he’s ever heard. “do you know what being bi means?”

“i’m not bi either.” jungkook replies.

yoongi snorts. “okay.”

“hyung.”

“i just swallowed your cum, you’re acting like i fucked you in the ass.” yoongi snaps and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to hide the gasp that threatens to slip out.

“you touched me too.” jungkook mumbles.

“and now you’re gonna say that you hated it, right?” yoongi scoffs and jungkook gets quiet. “jungkook, you almost came in my hand.”

“shut the fuck up!” jungkook snaps, finally looking up at yoongi with what you think is supposed to be an angry expression but in your opinion he just looks cute. and you guess yoongi might think the same.

“or what?” yoongi replies with a cocked eyebrow. jungkook doesn’t respond, just grabs his now empty bowl and walks to the sink, leaving it there before walking out of the kitchen.

and thank god because you were gonna drown in the fucking sexual tension if they stayed together in the same room for 5 more seconds.

“sheesh...” you whisper and walk to the counter to grab an apple.

“i don’t even know why you tried to do anything.” yoongi mumbles against his coffee mug before giving it a sip.

“you know it’s not his fault to be a little confused, right?” you tell him and sit on the chair jungkook was just sitting at. “you were kind of an asshole right now.” you admit and he sighs, putting his blue mug down on the counter.

“i’m not mad because he’s confused, he has all of the right to go through that, all of us do.” yoongi clarifies and you hum before giving your apple a bite. “what bothers me is that he can’t even look at me since that night.” he says, his voice quieter this time.

“yeah... i know.” you nod because you’ve obviously noticed.

yoongi sighs. “did i ruin everything with him?” you hate how worried he looks. of course yoongi cares about him. after all, jungkook is his friend and you can’t imagine how tough it must be for him to feel like he’s losing his friend.

“you didn’t, yoongi.” you answer his question because you really mean it. “i just think he needs some time to think.”

“thinking is what made him start acting like this, he looked perfectly fine that night.” yoongi tells you. “what he has to do is talk about it, but he won’t because he’s stubborn as shit.”

“yoongi.”

“he’s my friend, i can insult him.” he says and you can’t help but chuckle. “but seriously, he should talk about all of what he’s been bottling up. he’s probably been thinking about that night for all of these past days.”

“he’s not the only one,” you blurt out without even thinking and you can feel your cheeks heat up as soon as you look at yoongi and see a smirk growing on his face. “leave me alone.” you tell him before he can tease you about it.

“i didn’t say anything,” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “but i’ve been thinking about it too so don’t look so embarrassed.” he mumbles like it’s nothing as he puts his mug in the sink.

“you have?” you ask quietly. you don’t really know why but you thought he would’ve already moved on from it, that’s why this is surprising.

“y/n, c’mon.” he chuckles like your question is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, like the answer is obvious.

you’re about to reply, not really know what exactly, but jungkook is on the door again. he’s changed from his pajamas into some black sweatpants and a big hoodie, the hood over his head to probably cover his messy hair.

“where are you going?” you ask him. a stupid question really. at this point of quarantine people can only really leave for specific jobs or to do the groceries, and since the three of you work from home you can only suppose he’s going to do the groceries.

you turn out to be right when he walks into the kitchen and picks the little piece of paper with the list of groceries before putting it in the pocket of his hoodie. “the groceries,” he replies either way and looks at you. “do you need anything else?” he asks and you notice the way he completely ignores if yoongi wants anything too but decide not to say anything.

“not really,” you shake your had and he hums. “thanks, kook.”

jungkook nods in response and leaves the kitchen without saying another word, not even sparing yoongi a glance. just a couple of seconds later you can hear the front door opening and closing.

“he’s so...” yoongi sighs as you give your apple the last bite.

“so what?” you stand up to walk to the trash can and throw the apple. he doesn’t answer. “you wanna fuck him so bad.” you tease him.

“maybe.” he hums and you look at him, he’s just mindlessly scrolling down his phone.

you sigh and hop on the counter, swinging your legs as you think of ways to comfront him about that night. but your mouth ends up being faster than your brain.

“what did you mean?” you ask and see him putting his phone down to pay attention to you.

“what?” it just hits you now how intimidating his gaze is so you look down at your lap before speaking again.

“have you really been thinking about that night?” your voice is a little more quiet now.

“of course.” he replies like it’s the easiest question he’s ever gotten.

“okay, but like... in a good or bad way?”

when you don’t get an answer you look up at yoongi and find him pursing his lips in deep thought, like he’s calculating the words to say.

“so we’re finally talking about this.” he says.

“you don’t want to?”

“i thought you didn’t,” yoongi replies. “you didn’t address it the next morning and both you and jungkook kind of looked mortified so i didn’t pressure you into talking, i thought you wanted to forget about it.”

“i mean,” you start, trying to find the words to explain. “i kinda wanted to forget,” yoongi hums for you to keep talking. “because i felt so... weird? no, not weird. i felt-”

“uncomfortable?”

“no.”

“regretful?”

“no,” you shake your head again. “ugh, i don’t know how to explain it. i just couldn’t believe i did that, i felt a little... dirty.” you admit and god, it is so embarrassing.

“you are,” yoongi replies with a little smirk that makes you want to jump on him. jesus christ, you’re so fucked. “no, but seriously- i understand,” he says, smirk completely gone. “you could’ve talked to me though.”

“i didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it,” you explain with the annoying feeling that your cheeks are heating up again. “and since you didn’t talk about it either i thought you regretted it or something...” you mumble and yoongi’s jaw almost drops to the floor.

“what are you talking about?” he frowns, seemingly offended by what you said.

“you don’t regret it?” you ask shyly.

“the only thing i regret is not fucking you too.”

holy shit.

you could have a gun pressed to the back of your head right now and still wouldn’t admit the way your whole body feels like it’s been set on fire just from one stupid sentence.

“you- you can’t say stuff like that.” you mutter and have the decency to look at him even if you’re red as a tomato because you know he’s gonna know either way. because yoongi is a menace.

“why not?” he cocks an eyebrow. and fuck, he’s so hot you don’t understand how the hell you didn’t realize until now.

“because.” you reply because you don’t know what to say.

“no way you’re getting shy now...” yoongi chuckles as he walks to you.

“leave me alone.” you whine in protest and reach to him with your hand to softly slap his face. you do it in a playful way, your hand barely brushing against his cheek, but yoongi’s smirk completely disappears and something in your stomach twists in fear.

“do that again.” his voice is so fucking low all of the sudden, like he’s challenging you, and you don’t know if you’re scared or turned on.

“i- i’m sorry, did i hurt you?” of course the most stupid question you could’ve asked in a moment like this is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

yoongi only shakes his head. “i said do that again,” he repeats and takes the final step towards you to stand right in front of you. “harder.”

you gulp. your whole body feels too hot, your clothes are starting to feel uncomfortable. yoongi is too close and you’re sure he’s devouring you with his eyes.

“yoongi.” you try to say something but you don’t know what you can really say.

you’ve never hit anyone. well, maybe one time a couple of years ago when a guy didn’t stop bothering you at a club when you just wanted to dance with your friends. you’ve never hit anyone this way.

does yoongi like this? is he really one of those people?

“i don’t wanna hurt you.” you mumble and feel stupid right after.

“i like it when it hurts,” yoongi replies and you have to bite your lip not to moan. “i’m asking you to do it, so just-”

the sound of the slap echoes in the quiet kitchen and you stare at yoongi with panic growing in your chest and a weird itch on the palm of your hand, the one you haven’t even put down yet from how shocked you are that you just slapped yoongi. his head is turned to the side from the slap and you can see the little reddened skin on his cheek before he turns back to you.

“i’m so sorr-”

you never get to properly apologize because the words die down your throat the second yoongi’s lips collide against yours. you immediately kiss him back and hum against his mouth when he wraps his arms around your body, moving closer to stand between your legs and pulling you as close as he can to his body. your arms are soon wrapping around his neck too and you completely lose yourself in the kiss.

he kisses you like he’s missed you. like he’s been wanting, needing to kiss you again for these past two weeks. and you’re no better, you kiss him back with the same hunger and desperation because you now realize just how bad you needed him.

“fuck,” he mumbles between kisses and you hum in response, not daring to pull away when it feels so good. “can’t stop thinking about you.”

“yoongi...” you whine while one of yoongi’s hands goes up and down your thigh softly, too softly compared to the way he’s kissing you.

“wanted you so fucking bad.” yoongi sighs and starts kissing down your jaw towards your neck.

“fuck,” a little breathy chuckle slips out of your mouth when you realize something. “this fucking counter again.”

yoongi chuckles against your neck and brings his other hand to your other thigh, making you wrap your legs around you before picking you up from the counter.

“what-” you mumble but yoongi gives you just a short kiss to shut you up for a moment as he starts walking out of the kitchen.

“do you wanna get caught again?” he teases and your cheeks burn. you hide your face on the crook of his neck in embarrassment. “i want you to myself today, if that’s okay.” yoongi says and fuck, why does everything he say makes you feel like you’re melting? you’re sure he wasn’t like this before the kitchen incident.

“yeah, that’s okay.” you leave a kiss on his neck that has him letting out a shaky breath as he keeps walking down the corridor.

“good.” he hums and you keep kissing his neck, sucking a little mark on a spot that’s clearly sensitive because as soon as you start sucking on it yoongi’s grip on your thighs tightens significantly.

you’re brought back to reality and forced to stop kissing on his neck when yoongi is suddenly placing you down on a bed, his bed. the covers are extremely soft, that’s the first thing you notice, and the mattress seems super comfortable. in that moment you can understand why yoongi stays in bed until late somedays, his bed is so fucking nice.

“there you go,” yoongi says as he hovers over you and positions himself on his knees between your legs, one of his elbows on the mattress right next to your head to support his body. “pretty.” he smiles before kissing you again.

“you should’ve...” you start between kisses, your hands going up to his long hair while his free hand goes down to your waist. “should’ve talked to me before.”

“could tell you the same.” he replies and stops kissing your lips to go a little lower, kissing your neck again.

“wait.” you squirm under him and try to push him away.

yoongi quickly pulls away, looking down at you with worried eyes. “everything okay?” he asks.

“yeah,” you nod. “just wanna be on top.” you try to push him again and he chuckles.

“okay,” yoongi hums and he suddenly grabs you by your thighs and turns the both of you around so that you’re on top. “good?” he asks, staying sat up with you on his lap.

“yeah.” you smile as you place your hands on his shoulders.

“are you trying to get all dominant on me now?” he teases while his hands find their way under your shirt.

you don’t know what gives you the courage for it but you smirk back. “and what if i was?”

yoongi snorts.

“what?” you frown, clearly offended by his response.

“nothing...” he says but you can see how he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“just so you know, i’m a good dom.”

and it’s not a lie. you’ve been dominant in bed quite many times before, it’s not like it’s your preference but you definitely have. you’re confident even if something inside of you tells you there’s no way you’re gonna be able to dom him, your pride is bigger than that right now because his stupid smirk is making you want to shut him up.

“mh... i’m sure you are.” yoongi speaks with that stupid smirk.

“yoongi.” you whine in protest and feel stupid right after because his smirk only grows bigger.

“you’re such a cute little dom.” he brings his hand to your face and drags his thumb across your lower lip, making you realize you’re pouting.

“you’re pissing me off,” you shake him up a little with your hands on his shoulders. “i can dom you.”

“i had you blabbering like a little bitch the other day and i hadn’t even touched you yet.” yoongi says and gives your waist a light squeeze that makes you flinch.

“it was jungkook,” you say, just because he’s actually getting to you and you need a distraction. “he was the one fucking me.” you clarify and he cocks an eyebrow.

“you think jungkook was the dominant one that night?” he asks. “he completely shut down when i got there.”

you gulp when you remember how jungkook’s dominant demeanor completely disappeared as soon as yoongi walked in the kitchen that night, how he clearly obeyed to everything yoongi told him. and it is so fucking hot. by this point your panties must be ruined, you can’t help but squirm uncomfortably on top of him.

yoongi seems to notice your problem because he looks down at where your bodies are together and moves his hands down to your hips, pulling you closer to him so that you’re sat exactly on top of his crotch. a sigh escapes your mouth before you can stop it when you feel how hard he is under you.

“i bet i can make you cry before you can even begin to try dominating me.” he hums and nuzzles into your neck, making you squirm just with the feeling of his nose on your skin.

“you just caught me in a bad time that night,” you mumble. and you’re kinda right, you were so desperate that night, you’re sure you could’ve done a lot better if your desperation hadn’t been clouding your mind. “don’t be so confident.”

“i went so fucking easy on you both that night,” yoongi says against your skin like it’s a warning. “actually, i didn’t do anything and you two were doing everything i said like you were under a spell.”

“i...” your mind goes blank when he runs his tongue down your neck.

“you should’ve seen your face,” yoongi continues, leaving little kisses down the wet stripe on your neck. “you were fucked out, you looked dumb.” he chuckles a little and you should feel offended but you only moan in response when he bites on your neck, not enough to hurt but enough to get a reaction from you.

“yoongi-”

“it’s okay baby,” he hums, his breath hitting the sensitive skin of your neck and making goosebumps erupt all over your body. “i would love nothing more than to fuck you dumb.”

“that’s-” you surpress the moan that’s threatening to come out of your mouth when yoongi places his hands on your hips and pulls you closer to him just to grind against his clothed crotch. “that’s not the way you talk about a lady.” you manage to say even though your voice breaks halfway through. yoongi has obviously noticed because a dark chuckle hits your neck again.

“oh, i know,” he says. you can definitely feel how your panties are sticking to your pussy now. “but you’re not a lady, you’re just a slut.”

a loud moan slips out of your mouth when he makes you grind your hips again and the friction between you feels just right. “yoongi...” you hold on tight to his shoulders as his lips make their way up to whisper in your ear.

“right?”

“yoongi, i-” by this time your hips are moving on their own, chasing that delicious friction agaist his crotch.

“aren’t you my pretty slut?” the gentle bite to your earlobe does it for you.

you don’t remember the last time you needed someone this bad. well, maybe jungkook a couple of weeks ago, but somehow this feels different. your body is screaming for him, something inside you has been begging you to let go of that pride and just give into him since you kissed.

“please.” you say and feel stupid right after because you’ve already given up and because you don’t know what you’re asking for.

“oh, how i love to hear you say that word.” yoongi smiles wide at you and you can’t help but continue grinding your hips against him.

“fuck, yoongi i-”

“mh, i know.” he gives you a sympathetic nod and looks down at how you’re working your hips. “look at you,” he says and gently slaps your hip. “already begging for it like the slut you are.”

you try to speak but the only sound coming out of your mouth is another pathetic whimper as you keep chasing that friction.

“should i just let you do this until you cum?” yoongi asks, you instantly shake your head.

“no,” you slide your hands down his arms until you’re wrapping them around his wrists. “touch me.”

“i’m touching you.” he fakes a confused expression as he squeezes your hips just a little. you just know he’s having so much fun with this.

“yoongi, you know what i mean,” you grind against him one last time before he lets out a chuckle. “what?” and you almost can’t even recognize your voice anymore from how desperate and whiny you sound, but you know he likes it.

“i find it funny how you were trying to go all dominant and shit just a minute ago and now you’re begging like a slut.”

you don’t say anything in response, you only bite your lip to hold back a sound because you’ve never really enjoyed being talked to like this in bed but now you might be discovering something new about yourself because yoongi makes it so hot.

he smirks at your lack of response and turns the both of you again, making you lay down on your back with him between your legs. and you enjoyed being on top of him for a moment but you can’t lie and say you don’t like this position as well.

“i would love to take my time with you, but i wanna see that pretty pussy again,” yoongi says, completely unaware of how you blush at his words because he’s focused on pulling your sweatpants down your thighs. “maybe i’ll make it longer next time, but i’ve been waiting for two weeks.”

next time. the knowledge that he’s already thinking about a next time makes you a little giddy but you don’t make a comment about it.

you kick your sweatpants off when yoongi pulls them past your ankles and let then fall on the floor.

yoongi makes a disapproving soud when you bend your legs and close them, hiding from him. “c’mon, be good and open those pretty legs for me.” he puts a hand on one of your ankles, trying to make you stretch your legs.

you give in so easily, spreading your legs enough for him to get between them again. his hands go to your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly and leaving goosebumps behind.

but he’s not looking at you yet. well, he is looking at you, he’s looking at you with a pretty smirk but he’s not looking where you want him to look. that alone makes you buck your hips up in an attempt to make him look down. the gesture makes yoongi break in a chuckle but he still doesn’t give you what you want, leaning down and supporting his weight on his elbow next to your head. then he gives you a kiss that leaves you speechless instead.

“what?” you mumble in confusion.

“you’re so cute when you’re horny.” yoongi gives you a smile that successfully distracts you from his hand going up your thigh.

you open your mouth to reply but the only thing that comes out is a loud moan when you suddenly feel yoongi’s hand cupping your pussy over your panties.

“have you been this wet all this time?” yoongi says and your brain can’t even come up with an answer because his fingers start running up and down your clothed folds.

you’re so wet that the feeling of the soaked fabric of your panties against your pussy makes you blush in embarrassment, but it feels so good to finally be touched that you can’t help the sounds coming out of your mouth.

“what a dirty girl,” yoongi hums as your hips buck a little to meet the movements of his hand. “so wet just because of some kissing and some grinding?” he teases you with a chuckle.

“please, take my panties off.” you beg. you need his fingers on you.

“only because you said please.”

he partially listens to you because he doesn’t really take them off but instead pushes them to the side, which you find ten times hotter.

a loud moan slips out of your mouth when his fingers finally touch you with nothing in between. your hand twitches with the urge to cover your mouth but you know yoongi won’t like that so you settle with gripping at the sheets of his bed instead.

“haven’t stopped thinking about this pussy,” yoongi mumbles and gives it a little slap that makes you squeak in surprise. “cute.” he grins and kisses you once again.

you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him to make sure he doesn’t pull away. he swallows all of your moans when he easily slips one of his fingers inside you and starts fucking you with it before quickly adding another one, you’re so wet that his fingers slide in so well.

“mhh… that’s a good pussy.” yoongi hums between kisses and you clench around his fingers.

his fingers feel so good, you can’t wait for his cock.

you moan his name, making him smile against your mouth. “does that feel good?”

“yeah.” you whine and he curls his fingers inside you, easily finding that spot. “fuck, right there…”

it feels so good that you almost forgot you don’t live alone. almost. you remember because you’re suddenly being surprised by the sound of the apartment door opening and closing.

jungkook is back home.

“yoongi,” you mumble against his lips like a warning but he only hums and starts fingering you faster. “fuck... yoon- yoongi, stop.”

“do you really want me to stop?” yoongi breaks away from the kiss with the hottest smirk on his face.

you don’t know what to answer. well, you know you don’t want him to stop, but jungkook is home now and you are loud enough for him to hear.

“yoon...” you try but nothing else comes out when he slips a third finger.

“that’s right,” he smiles and leaves a sweet kiss on your jaw as he keeps finger fucking you at a pace that’s driving you crazy. “say my name.”

you do. you say his name and he slips his fingers out just to give your pussy another spank that makes your whole body twitch under him.

“louder.” yoongi says as he rubs his fingers over your folds to ease the pain from the spank.

you say his name louder, but just a little because you know jungkook must be placing the groceries in the kitchen right now, he could hear you if you said it louder.

but jungkook hearing you must be exactly what yoongi wants because he gives you another spank that has you moaning his name way too loud. yoongi smiles at the sound.

“that’s a good slut.” he praises, his breath hitting your ear, and starts rubbing your pussy with his fingers from side to side so fast that you don’t know what to do with your body, your hips twitching and your cheeks reddening at the wet sound of his hand against your pussy.

god, you’re so wet.

“please…” you beg through a sound that’s close to a sob and it makes yoongi stop the movements of his hand and straighten up a little to look down at you, sitting back on his feet under him.

 “please what?” he finally gives your pussy a break but you miss his hand, the one he’s bringing to his mouth right now. “messy fucking girl, i always have to clean you up, right?”

you hold your breath and your pussy throbs when he slips two of his wet fingers in his mouth and hums like it is the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

“yoongi please.” you repeat even if you don’t know what you’re asking.

“is that the only word you know how to say now?” yoongi asks, not really paying attention to you but rather to cleaning your juices off his fingers. “i won’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.”

your desperation gives you the courage to sit up, your legs a little bent up on each side of yoongi, and grab at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up until it’s coming off. you throw it on the floor and take the chance to run your hands down his chest, feeling the hot skin under your fingers and getting so lost in it that the words come out of your mouth easily.

“i want your cock.” you blurt out, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes.

“you want it?” yoongi says with that condescending tone again, like he’s talking to a dumb person.

fuck, you want him so bad.

you just nod in reply. he hums and then gets up on his knees, getting so close to you with how you’re sitting. “then pull it out.”

you hold your breath for a second. “can i?”

“of course you can.”

you don’t think about it twice. you hook your fingers under the waistband of his sweatpants again and tug them down, biting your lip at the sight of the outline of his hard cock under the fabric of his boxers.

he’s so big. and you want him so bad.

“c’mon,” yoongi urges you to do something and you finally tug down at his boxers. “there you go.”

you notice two things when you’ve pulled his boxers down to his thighs.

first one, he’s definitely big.

second one, yoongi has a piercing on his dick. right on the underside, under his tip, a barbell on his frenulum.

you have to bite back a moan at how hot you find it and yoongi seems to notice your reaction because he chuckles. “you’ve never seen one?” he says with a teasing tone and you look up at his face.

“can i…” you shift uncomfortably under him because you need your panties off.

“can you what?” you hold your breath when he brings a hand down to his cock, stroking it slowly. he is so close to you in the position you are right now.

“can i suck you off?” you blurt out before you can even worry about looking desperate.

you don’t miss the way he squeezes on the base of his cock as soon as you let the words out, but he shakes his head.

you’re about to complain when yoongi speaks up again. “i would love to fuck that pretty mouth, but i need to fuck that pussy first.” he nods down at your body.

you lean back, supporting yourself against your elbows, and look at him with puppy eyes now that you know they seem to work on him. “then come fuck it.” you know you’re pouting but you couldn’t care less right now. you need him so bad.

“it will be my pleasure,” he grins but then looks down at your chest. “but take that shirt of first.”

you obey instantly and take it off in a second, throwing it somewhere on the bedroom floor and finally laying down on your back. you don’t miss yoongi’s gaze on your bare chest.

“stop doing that.” you throw one arm over your eyes not to see the way he’s devouring you with his eyes.

“i’m not doing anything.”

“you’re looking.”

“am i supposed to look somewhere else?” he responds and you chuckle a little.

“no, but- ah!” a moan escapes your mouth when you feel yoongi’s mouth on one of your nipples. you unconsciously slap your hand over your mouth to muffle any other noise slipping out of it, but yoongi is quickly grabbing your wrist and pushing your arm away.

“none of that shit,” he says before starting to litter kisses all over your chest. your back arches a little when he flicks his tongue on your other nipple and he chuckles in response. “so cute.”

“just fuck me already.” you beg, feeling yourself getting even more wet each second.

“someone’s eager to get fucked, huh?” yoongi straightens up again and wraps his hand around his cock again, stroking it lazily like before. you can’t look away.

then all of the brattiness you have in you slips out your mouth. “no, i just think you’re making me wait longer because you don’t know what to do with that.” you nod towards his cock.

yoongi’s smile is gone when you look back at his face and you know you’re in trouble.

“i wanted to look at your face while i fucked you,” he starts and you can already sense a but coming. “but i want you on all fours now.” you open your mouth to say something but he shakes his head and speaks again. “turn around before you piss me off again.” he talks with such a low voice that you can’t deny him anything.

you turn around and get up on your hands and knees, though your breath hitches when he places a hand on your back and pushes down for you to get down on your elbows, you squish your cheek on his pillow.

yoongi curses behind you and you can sense he’s looking down at your exposed pussy. the reaction gives you the courage to arch your back, pressing your chest to the mattress and spreading your legs a little, just enough for him to see you better.

“if you tell me i can’t fuck you raw i’m gonna be mad.” he curses and you giggle.

“you can do it.”

“really?” yoongi asks. you appreciate that he’s making sure.

“yes, i let jungkook fuck me raw, you should do it too.” you respond and move your ass a little. “c’mon, i’m waiting.”

and you really thought he was gonna make you wait a little more, that’s why you gasp in surprise when yoongi rubs the tip of his cock through your folds.

“oh my god…” you mumble. “please, don’t tease.” you beg when he keeps rubbing it up and down. you can actually feel the piercing and you might go crazy.

“i don’t know, since you said i don’t know what to do with my cock maybe i shouldn’t give it to you.” yoongi says with a low chuckle as he places one of his hands on your hip.

“no, please.” you whine into the pillow, feeling like you could actually cry if he doesn’t slip it in right now.

“look at you, you haven’t stopped saying please since i first touched you.” he presses his tip to your clit and rubs it just right before pulling away and making you whine again.

“i swear to god if you don’t-” a loud moan escapes your mouth when you feel him slip in slowly. “oh fuck…” you mumble and bury your face on the pillow. but yoongi doesn’t seem to like that.

he’s suddenly threading his fingers through your hair so gently but then he tugs hard to lift your head from the pillow as he bottoms out. “wanna hear you.” he says.

“so good.” you manage to say as you support your upper body on your elbows so that the hair pulling doesn’t hurt a lot, just the necessary.

“yeah?” yoongi hums as he starts to pull out just as slowly as he slipped in.

“big…” you sigh and hear a hint of another chuckle before he slips in again.

“you’re so fucking tight, holy shit,” he groans and you can feel his hand on your hair faltering for a second so you clench around him to get a reaction. “oh fuck.” he moans and he sounds so hot that you push your ass back against him to make him bottom out again.

“you feel so good.” you whine and he finally lets go of your hair but you rest your head on your side for him to hear you.

“can i move?” yoongi asks, both hands on your hips now.

“yes please.” you beg.

and he’s not gentle, he fucks you hard right from the start. you can actually feel the cold piercing inside of you and you think you might go crazy. the sound of skin against skin the only thing echoing inside the room because it feels so good that no sound comes out of your mouth.

yoongi doesn’t like that. he gives your ass a hard spank as he bottoms out again and stays there.

“if i don’t hear you i’ll stop,” he warns you and you try to move your hips for him to start moving again, but his hard grip on them doesn’t let you. “did you understand?”

“yes.” you whine and another moan slips out of your mouth when he spanks you again.

“good slut.”

you think you’re gonna cry when he starts fucking you again. this time you allow yourself to let all the sounds out, not caring about how loud you are.

“yoongi...” your voice breaks when he starts hitting that sweet spot that makes your legs shake. your knees hurt but it feels so good you don’t want to change positions.

you’re so fucked out already, you wouldn’t be so gone at this point with anyone else, but somehow it feels different with yoongi.

“that feels good?” yoongi hums and you feel a little bit of pride at how broken his voice sounds too.

“yes!” you moan. “please, don’t stop… please.”

“fuck,” he truly seems to like to hear you beg. “it’s like this pussy was made for me.” and he won’t stop hitting that spot, you’re so fucking close.

“yours.” you mumble, completely fucked out, and clench when you hear him chuckle at the word.

“mine?” he teases, slowing down his thrusts.

you nod uncomfortably against the pillow and cry out when yoongi suddenly pulls out. “no, please…” you beg, desperately pushing your ass back for him to keep fucking you.

“no, turn around.” yoongi says and you have half a mind to obey, turning around on the bed and finally laying on your back with a relief sigh.

you’re quick to wrap your legs around him to push him closer. “please, yoongi, fuck me.” all shame is gone, you need him so bad.

“slut wants my cock?”

you nod.

“then say it.”

“i want your cock.” you bite your lip when he starts rubbing his tip through your folds again.

“who wants my cock?” yoongi asks, acting dumb. you want to cry.

“me.” you sigh, bucking your hips up to grind against his cock.

“who?” yoongi asks again and you get it now.

“your slut.” you answer. yoongi smirks proudly.

“who’s cock do you want?”

god. you will go insane at this point.

“yours.”

“mh, but that’s not enough for you, right?” he hums, looking down at where his cock is rubbing against you. your breath hitches when your dizzy mind is able to get what he means.

“i-”

“one cock is not enough for your, right?”

“yoongi…”

“you got fucked by one of your roommates two weeks ago and now you’re letting your other roommate fuck you too?” yoongi circles the tip of his cock on your clit, the piercing making it feel so good youe eyes roll back. “do you spread your legs for anyone who has a cock?”

“n- no…” you blush, the humilliating words making you feel so good somehow.

“no? just for us?” yoongi asks and leans down a little, the hand he was using to hold the base of his cock wrapping around your neck now.

“yes,” you sigh. everything feels so hot. “just for you.”

“yeah?” he hums. fuck, he’s so hot.

you try to nod but his hand around your neck squeezes a little. “fuck…” you moan, your pussy throbbing now.

“i knew you would like this, dirty girl,” yoongi chuckles and gives your neck another light squeeze as he starts slipping his cock into you again. “that’s a good slut.” he groans as you clench around him again.

yoongi keeps his hand around your neck as he starts fucking you, squeezing just lightly. and he knows what he’s doing, because the second he lets go you let out the loudest moan you’ve ever made. your hand flies to your mouth in embarrassment but yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls it over your head, pinning it right there.

“i wanna fucking hear you.” he says, hips hitting against the back of your thighs so hard as he fucks you at a brutal pace.

“jung- jungkook is home…” you mutter as a warning but he only laughs.

“is that an inconvenient now?” he gives you a deep thrust that makes your eyes roll back. “let him hear. should i ask him to come here too?”

“fuck.” you’re so close, if he keeps talking like that you’re gonna cum.

“i’m sure he’s listening from his room right now,” yoongi says, his thrusts hitting just right, you’re sure you’re creaming his cock by this point. “do you think he’s touching himself as he listens to you?”

“oh my god…” your hand twitches with the urge to cover your mouth again but he keeps it pinned to the mattress over your head, your other hand grips at the sheets tightly.

“i’m sure he wishes he was in my place right now.” he looks down at how your boobs bounce from the thrusts and you’re sure your cheeks are tomato red.

“so close...” you moan, your legs trembling around him.

“i start talking about jungkook and now you’re gonna cum?” yoongi teases, earning another whine from you. “wow, one cock is really not enough for you, isn’t it…”

“yoongi!” you squeak when you feel his free hand on your pussy, he starts rubbing circles on your clit.

“gonna cum around my cock?”

“yes! yes, please!” you’re so fucking loud now but you couldn’t care less.

“you want him to hear you, huh?” yoongi chuckles.

“i’m g- gonna cum…” you mumble, the words almost not coming out.

“say his name,” yoongi says and you open your eyes in shock, pussy clenching around him. “say his name or you’re not coming.” he warns as he slows down his thrusts.

“yoongi, no…” you cry out.

“that’s not his name.” yoongi gives your clit a little lap that makes your body twitch.

“ju… jungkook.” you try and blush right after. it feels so wrong to moan someone else’s name in bed, you know yoongi wants it but it makes you feel so dirty. he wants you to feel like that.

“louder, baby.” he says and the contrast between that petname and the names he was calling you before makes you feel like you’re gonna pass out.

“jungkook!” you finally say, making yoongi grin down at you.

“that’s it, say it again.” he says and resumes the pace he was fucking you with before.

“jungkook!” you moan louder and yoongi’s fingers on your clit is faster. “fuck! oh my- ah! gonna cum!”

“good slut,” yoongi hums. “c’mon, cum for us.”

us.

the stupid word and its implications make you clench impossibly tight around him as the craziest shock waves run through your whole body. your vision goes blurry so you close your eyes while your body goes limp, completely exhausted as you feel yoongi slipping out.

you’re about to complain when you open your eyes and see him stroking his cock and moaning as white stripes of cum land on your sweaty chest.

“oh my god…” you sigh and throw one of your arms over your eyes.

you hum when you feel yoongi’s hand on your cheek. “are you okay?” he speaks so softly you could’ve sworn he’s not the guy who just fucked you.

“yeah.” you reply and something makes you start giggling lazily.

“what are you laughing about now?” yoongi says but yo can hear a smile in his voice.

“i can’t believe that happened.” you mumble and put your arm down to look at him.

“well, it happened.” he leans down and gives your lips a sweet kiss, then he gets down from the bed.

you watch him put his sweatpants and grab a towel from one of the drawers on his closet as your chest keeps going up and down, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

“seriously, are you okay?” he asks when he comes back to bed and sits down next to you, cleaning his cum from your stomach.

“yeah, just… a little sore,” you chuckle, your cheeks burning from how gentle he’s suddenly being with you. “i don’t know if i’m gonna be able to get up.”

“you can stay here for as long as you want.” he says softly and folds the towel, throwing it on a basket where you suppose he puts his dirty clothes.

“i would stay here all day,” you admit. “but i have work and i have to eat first.”

“i can prepare a bath for you,” yoongi says and your heart does something weird in your chest. “for your sore muscles.” he rubs a hand up and down your bare thigh.

“can you do that?” you look at him with big eyes.

“of course i can.”

“how can you be so sweet after everything you just did to me?” you ask and he chuckles, leaning down to kiss you again.

“aftercare is important, i take that really seriously.”

“okay,” you smile sweetly at him. “then go prepare that bath.”

he snorts. “brat.” but he stands up again and walks out of the room, closing the door after.

you stay there for a minute, staring at the ceiling and thinking about everything you just did in this bed. and you feel kinda good and giddy about it until you remember about jungkook.

you moaned his name. you yelled his name. and he for sure heard you. you shake the thoughts away from your head and decide to get up from bed. you need that bath.

your body begs you to lay down when you manage to stand up, your legs are sore and your whole body is so weak that you almost fall down when you grab yoongi’s shirt from the floor. you hum pleasantly when you put the shirt on and notice it covers you perfectly, yoongi always wears big clothes.

your trembling legs guide you out of the room and the smell of food cooking in the kitchen hits your nose and almost makes you moan at how hungry you are, jungkook must be cooking lunch right now. since he must be in the kitchen you take the chance to run to the bathroom, where yoongi is preparing your bath. but you’re proved wrong when you collapse against a hard chest in the middle of the corridor.

jungkook is looking down at you with something you can’t really read in his eyes. he just walked out of his room, he had probably left the food cooking in the kitchen.

“hi!” you say like nothing ever happened because you’re still so embarrassed, your cheeks burning again.

“hey.” jungkook mumbles and separates from you, motioning to walk past you and back to the kitchen.

you are walking past him and to the bathroom when he says your name, making you turn to him. “yes?”

“next time just come to my room instead of thinking about me when you’re with him.”

you freeze. you literally don’t know what to say.

you open your mouth to try and say something, probably something stupid, when yoongi appears right behind you.

“i think you should just join us next time.” he says and the smug expression on jungkook’s face completely disappears. he turns around and walks inside the kitchen again.

your shoulders drop in disappointment because the reaction kind of felt like a rejection but yoongi places his hand on your shoulder.

“he will come around,” he tells you. “he’s just stubborn.”

“yeah…” you mumble and turn around to follow him into the bathroom.

“you really want him, huh?” yoongi teases you but you completely ignore him, standing in front of the mirror and cringing at how messy you look. “my shirt looks good on you.” he adds, standing behind you.

a little smirk grows on your face as you look at him in the mirror. “you fuck me once and you’re already in love with me?” you tease.

“wow, look at how bratty that mouth is,” yoongi mumbles, crossing his arms against his chest. “but then you barely speak a word when you’re getting fucked.” that shuts your mouth completely and he looks proud of it.

“shut up…” you mumble and turn around to push him out of the bathroom. “get out, i wanna enjoy my bath.”

yoongi just chuckles to himself before turning around and leaving. you only notice the dumb smile on your face when you look at yourself in the mirror again.

yoongi has you smiling like that. and you also remember jungkook, how he basically told you to have sex with him again and the invitation actually sparked something inside of you.

you were just roommates a month ago but now you’re starting a dangerous game with the both of them. the thing is that it feels good, you can only hope it turns out alright.

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A/N: askssjdnandkdjas i hope you liked this chapter, please let me know your thoughts !!! it helps a lot to have feedback <3 i'm obviously makind this a series so pls look forward for the next chapter :) 💖 thank you all for reading ! have a nice day babes

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TAGLIST: @m4gg13-g @kooksbunnnn @baechugff @danielle143 @signingsongbird @dontcallmeelle @fancy-cloud @melakrish

[nobodyfamousposts]

Scarlet Lady Essay: Frightningale

Yet another essay for @zoe-oneesama. Because you deserve it.

I’m not going to bother with a compare/contrast of canon vs Scarlet Lady Frightningale because Frightningale in canon was a pretty forgettable episode. Akuma was lame. Setup was wasted. And it’s removal from the series would lose nothing of value.

So instead, I'm going to focus primarily on the Scarlet Lady version of Frightningale and what it does that makes it memorable.

I guess to start with, I should make it clear that I’m not a fan of shows being lazy, especially when they display a lack of planning or consideration of their story and characters. And perhaps one of the greater indicators of this issue is when a series suddenly realizes they they neglected multiple plot points until it’s too late to give them all the focus they warrant so they end up shoving all of those points into one episode and try to present it like it’s supposed to be an adequate resolution of all that buildup or in any way intentional.

Penalteam was that episode for Miraculous. They had the “temporary heroes” setup going for them but then wasted so much time on filler like Frightningale that it seems like they honestly forgot about it until they were reaching a designated end point and they realized they still had four more heroes they were supposed to introduce. Whoops? Ah well, just introduce them all at once. Not like anyone will care!

And when you treat most of the cast like they’re all as shallow as a puddle, I guess that’s true.

The thing is, when you have a setup where there is a running theme of every person in a specific group getting their own episode/chapter to detail their issues and how they get a power up, it’s going to stand out whenever one of them doesn’t. Especially when that one or more are forced to share their limelight episode. 

That’s not to say you can’t do it, but it’s bound to get attention if you do. It reflects poorly on the writing. It shows whom the “favored” and “unfavored” characters are. And it displays the issue with pacing—namely that it’s next to nonexistent until it hits you with the force of a freight train.

But can it be done and be done well? Is it possible to pull off such a thing and have it make sense and fit in lines with the characters?

Well, yes. Off the top of my head, I can think of two different ways to do it to make it work.

And Zoe did both of them.

If you look at Scarlet Lady as a whole, you’ll see a conglomeration of characters—each with stories and arcs attached. They have personalities. They have goals and problems and their own highs and lows. One sign of good writing is that some focus is given to highlight these other characters as people. Individuals in their own right with lives outside of the main characters or situation.

Miraculous doesn't really do this.

Scarlet Lady, however, does. Because contrary to the title, Scarlet Lady isn’t just about Chloe.

It isn’t even just about the heroes.

It isn’t just about Chloe being horrible. Or Marinette being in love. Or Adrien being in desperate need of a hug and a nap. Because while the story is centered around them, it isn’t solely about them. Other characters get focus and growth and their own arcs throughout the comics.

But the big two—the BIGGEST two with arguably the most depth and most growth and quite frankly the best storylines out of everyone in the entire series?

It’s Sabrina and Lila. And their individual stories have led up to this.

As such, this episode—which was mostly filler and all around forgettable in canon, matters here.

It’s where Sabrina and Lila reach the culmination of their respective character arcs. 

Yes, it’s when they both get to become Miraculous Heroes and meet their own kwamis, but it’s more than just that! They both hang out with the girls group as full members of the crew, getting to take part in a music video together. It’s also where they both get to stand up for themselves and the city at large while calling out Chloe and Scarlet Lady. This is what their storylines have been building up to and where their growth really shows.

Sabrina started out as Chloe’s minion same as canon—albeit with more attention to her feelings and her responses, no matter how seemingly small, allowing her to feel more like her own person. And through this focus, we got to see her open up more, pull and eventually break away from Chloe and her influence, and over time stand up for herself and try to establish herself both with the class and as an individual.

Lila started off as a liar and manipulator, selfish and self centered, much like canon. Unlike canon, her lies are tied to her issues, noted to be poorly thought through, and give her more introspection as a person. After the lies are revealed, she’s not “redeemed” so much as she is “accountable”, and it doesn’t change who she is. She remains selfish and certainly far from being considered “good”, but she’s letting people in past her walls and masks in a way she hadn’t been able to before.

Both of these things? Figuring out who you are and letting people know you for who you are? They’re incredibly hard. And a lot of time was devoted to both of their journeys along the course of the comic.

Sabrina’s arc was about her figuring out who she is on her own. Outside of Chloe and her previous role of being a follower and lackey. And sometimes it feels less scary to stay with someone toxic than to be alone and facing the unknown. We see it in the way she tries to put herself out there afterwards, reaching out and risking rejection and just figuring herself out. Even or perhaps especially with those she already knows and has a less than positive history with.

And we still see the struggle of her view of herself in this episode. It was in the way she was upset that she legitimately tried to help and it still resulted in bad things happening. And it was also clear when she calls herself a “sidekick” to Marigold after the day was saved, as if it’s a role she still sees herself as and one she struggles not to fall in to. Over time, we’re seeing Sabrina learning that she doesn’t have to be attached or subservient to someone else to have an identity or be accepted. 

Lila’s arc involved her figuring out who she is with people. Outside of the lies and manipulations she creates, the masks she wears, and the identities she crafts to make people like her. The “real Lila” is far from the best person and arguably not even a good person, but she also doesn’t have to be for the others to accept her as the still somewhat bad influence she is. She’s still very much selfish and flawed, but she’s less inclined to hide it or treat it like something that needs to be hidden. And isn’t that a common lesson? That it’s better to be liked for who you are than to force yourself to be someone else to be liked?

And at the same time, even with being less than a fully good person, she’s showing that she can still find better ways of acting that allow her to help others rather than hurt them or serve herself. She still hates Scar, but rather than working with Hawk Moth to kill her and risk dooming Paris and the world, she’s instead working with Alya through more legitimate (and legal) means…and hitting Scar where it hurts most. She and Adrien may not be friends, but rather than try to punish him for not going along with her, she’s instead rescued him, putting herself on the line—something that the former Lila wouldn’t have considered doing and one that canon Lila wouldn’t be capable of. Even if she’s motivated by pettiness or self-interest, what would have been straight up revenge on someone who upset her has grown to be something that is working in everyone’s better interests.

Both Lila and Sabrina hid themselves in different ways and for different reasons. So having them both assert themselves and call out both Chloe and Scarlet Lady is a show of their growth and overall a huge deal. It’s not something either of them would have done at the start of the series. Sabrina, because she was a “yes man” who wouldn’t dare to argue with Chloe and Lila because she wouldn’t risk openly doing something to make herself a target. 

And now boom! Look at them both! Lila stepped up to openly and publicly denounce Scarlet Lady as not being a hero for real reasons that aren’t just about herself or her feelings—complete with receipts! The girl did her research, noting incidents from before she even came into the picture. Then follow up with Sabrina standing up against Chloe’s machinations and dismantling Chloe’s main source of power: her father. Even better, she’s using logic and knowledge she would have as a former ally of Chloe’s who would know her tricks, taking her former friendship with Chloe and using it against her.

And on top of that, each of them are given the Miraculous by the person they wronged in the past. Marinette to Sabrina and Adrien to Lila. Especially in Lila’s case, it says a lot that they’re trusted. That shows narratively that even with their mistakes and bad choices and continued struggles, they still can move forward—not necessarily to find redemption, but to find themselves and be their best selves.

This is why it makes sense for them to share this episode. It’s also why both of them speaking up matters. They are both publicly confronting their greatest foe, and the fact that their foes are really two faces of the same person further highlights this. 

So they both have issues with the same person, are dealing with forming their identities without catering to others, are working out how to have/be friends, were formerly not the best of people, and have a fear of rejection. As such, this isn’t just their obligatory hero episode, this is what their individual stories have been leading up to. Almost like they’re two sides of the same coin. And the comparison between the two helps them both shine.

And speaking of shining, does anyone remember how the all girls team up didn’t get a chance to shine in canon? Zoe sure did.

I have a whole list of problems I have regarding Party Crasher, but perhaps number seven on that list is that the boys got to have an all male temp hero team up episode while the girls didn’t.

In fact, by this episode in canon, only Alya, Chloe, and Kagami actually got to be temp heroes.

To be fair, only four of the guys out of seven in canon got to be part of their particular event in Party Crasher, leaving out Ivan (who often tends to get overlooked) and Nathaniel (who has had a precedent of just literally disappearing from the episode). But originally, part of the appeal of Party Crasher was that the focus was supposed to be on the male classmates and getting to see at least some of them being part of a team against the akuma.

Why then didn’t we get an episode like this with the girls? Or at least something LIKE this?

Frightningale became that episode. And if any of the episodes were to do it, it makes the most sense for Frightningale to be the one.

All of the girls were together to take part in this event. So Zag would have had the perfect excuse to include them all in the fight or just have the girls do something to help even as civilians. I mean, we’ve had episodes do this before. Max in Robustus. Nathaniel and Alix in Reverser. Luka in Captain Hardrock. Let the civilians show their heroic traits even before they become heroes. It’s not a Miraculous, but it’s still giving them focus and expanding on them as individuals.

Instead, canon Frightningale was a filler episode. And not even a good one. For an akuma who forces people to sing or dance, it’s a waste that they just had the heroes spend the whole time rhyming. A waste of writing and talent. I mean, have you heard Christina Vee sing? If there needed to be a musical episode, I would think that the akuma who forces people to sing would certainly warrant it! At least more than it’s Christmas and they sing just cuz.

So this is yet another thing that Zoe improves with the Scarlet Lady version of this episode. Giving us the all girl team up episode so many of us have long wanted and getting to see all the female heroes together at last. 

And with this, we get the full roster of friends-turned heroes.

Except for Alix. Poor, poor Alix.  ;_;

Your day will come.

In this way, the end where Clara goes a different direction with her music video feels less like a half-assed fix to a half-forgotten plot point and more like something that was built by everyone involved. I don’t know about the rest of you, but given Clara’s excitement over the all girl band playing and Pigella’s gift showing Clara an idea for her video, it highlights the focus on EVERYONE being part of this—both the video and the episode itself. It kind of comes off as a lesson of its own about teamwork and giving everyone a shot rather than focusing specifically only on one or two specific individuals.

And isn’t that what separates the heroes from Scarlet Lady?

But there’s a third important aspect of this episode.

This is the episode where Chloe is smacked in the face with Scarlet Lady’s falling popularity. 

Let’s remember that at the start of the comic, Scarlet Lady was fully and widely considered THE Hero of Paris. She was beloved for doing nothing and it was a point of frustration for Chat, who actually was having to pick up her slack. Initially, there was nothing he could do because him being the only real hero among the duo meant he often couldn't stick around after akuma fights to prevent Scar from telling "our story". In addition, he didn’t know who she was or who chose her and why. Then even when it was clear her getting the Earrings was a mistake, for a lot of the first couple seasons, she was so popular that they couldn’t just take the Earrings away from her lest they risk backlash from the rest of the city. It’s a backlash that seems increasingly unlikely as more and more people get to see her behavior and callousness firsthand.

We’ve seen hints of it in other episodes, but none of them were so blatant to Chloe that she couldn’t ignore it or shrug it off or otherwise make excuses to protect her ego.

Prime Queen wanted to focus on Marigold and Chat Noir for their “romance” to try and boost ratings. Alya and Lila made some snarky comments, but Chloe could easily dismiss them both. Nadja also made a comment that nobody cared about Scarlet’s love life, but a lack of interest in her love life isn’t a lack of interest in herself and Chloe despises both of her “sidekicks” and wouldn’t want anyone trying to pair her with them anyway. And Nadja reassures her that they’ll focus on her after they’re done with Chat and Marigold. So yes, she can dismiss that as well.

Reverser has Chloe faced with both of her identities are made as villains in art and a story. However, she clearly looks down on Nathaniel and Marc barely registers to her. So she can dismiss them.

Look at Despair Bear, the Intermission, the interactions with the various other heroes, and the fact that only Chat Noir and Marigold are privy to the Guardian’s secret existence and allowed to pass out other Miraculous. Much has been shown of the other characters being less than impressed with her, snarky towards her, or showing the process of how they discover the truth about her and how she actually handles akuma attacks…namely in that she doesn’t. And Chloe can dismiss all of that because to her, none of them really matter to her.

But Chloe can’t dismiss the fact that a renown celebrity dedicating a music video to the “Heroes of Paris” isn’t including her. Bad enough her sidekicks are taking center stage but she’s not even in the music video at all?

And when someone she despises calls out the reasons why she’s not a hero in an openly public setting surrounded by a multitude of people who all agree with her? You could say it’s insult to injury. But some would say it was a long time coming.

Some Rando: Scarlet Lady sucks! Alya: Marigold and Chat Noir do all the work, not her! Kagami: She’s barely even necessary at this point. Clara: This video and song are to celebrate hope and love. And Scarlet Lady lacks both when push comes to shove. Chloe: ARGHHH! WHATEVER!

It further shows the turning tide of public opinion against Scar. What was once a trickle has grown into a wave, and now Chloe is forced to acknowledge her image and status aren’t as ironclad as she thought. Sure, she could denounce Lila as a liar like she’s done before, but Lila is bringing up instances that Chloe can’t deny: being late (as she’s just plain been a no show to several fights), endangering civilians, and being caught live on camera being willing to let someone die in a particularly horrible way because it’s easier.

This is the episode where it’s not just people seeing Scar is horrible, but acting on it and letting Chloe know they know she’s horrible. It’s reached the point where Chloe can’t just disregard the claims or discount and ignore her critics. And we’re seeing Chloe starting to lose control as a result. To the point she has to force her dad to ruin a previously sanctioned event in what has to be one of his most flagrant displays of abuse of power to date just to shut down her detractors.

And even that would come with more consequences for Chloe if it had been allowed to continue. Sabrina herself points it out that Clara is very popular with a lot of fans—people who would be aware she’s making a music video and whom would be very disappointed if word got out that it was cancelled due to an issue with the Mayor. And given all the very unhappy people we see in the comic in question where she points that out, it stands to reason that the word would get out. Heck, I’d be surprised if someone wasn’t recording it.

Then there’s the love square/hero shenanigans.

Remember how in canon, the whole “playing themselves/risking identities” bit kinda just dropped out halfway in? The kwamis were the only authority figures involved to call out on the risk and of the two, Plagg didn’t care and Tikki gave one knowing stare at Marinette before turning around to gush about the suit. Even though Marinette offers the alternative idea to the music video by the end, there’s no further comment or notice of how she and Adrien nearly blew their identities….or alternatively a comedic take where nobody recognizes them regardless and they worried for nothing. Honestly, I would have taken either setup.

Having Fu present to call them both out shows there is a responsible authority figure watching, makes it clear there are rules they are expected to follow, and reinforces that this was, in fact, a horrible idea. Sure, Marinette and Adrien worried enough to hide their masks, but it should have been obvious that wouldn’t work long term. They are risking their identities, not just to Paris but to each other. And he calls them out for doing it on purpose.

Then there’s the beautiful crescendo of the love square dance in that the two both pretty much have figured out the other’s identity and just want an identity reveal to make it official—which Fu won’t allow. We see it in their playful banter that gets mistaken for “getting into character” and in Adrien in particular pushing Marinette to take part.

This is a point where we are seeing them be teenagers. Foolish of them? Yes. Should they have known better and not done it? Yes. But is it in character and the sort of teenage shenanigans we would expect of teenage superheroes? Definitely. And that’s part of the point. Because they are teenagers. Teenagers in love, no less. Teenagers in love with secret identities to dance around. Which is half the fun of secret identities!

It’s just another aspect to this episode that makes it enjoyable.

So overall, the episode matters in ways that the canon version didn’t and was fun in ways that the canon version wasn’t, making it stand out not just as an episode or a remake of the canon episode, but as its own standalone episode AND a noteworthy point in the overall story.

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Loving Arms (6)

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part VI: A Ring of Green

|| Loving Arms Masterlist ||

A/N: I sometimes struggle giving multiple characters dialogue, so I thought why not give each of the kids their own focused chapters or moments. Hope you all enjoy this part and leave a comment! I love to hear from all of you.

"Muña, would this not be easier if we did all of this by dragon instead of horseback?" Aegon whined.

"I will not have you and your siblings become layabout nobles," she replied. "This hunt is meant to put in practice your skills with the bow, equestrianship, and to learn how to skin and prepare the game that you catch. We will not be the kind of people that forget the work that is put into having a meal on our table, is that understood?"

Aegon whined a bit more with a pout.

"I don't understand whines, I need an articulate response."

The boy huffed once more, "Yes, muña. But why is it only the two of us? Why are Aemond and Halaena allowed to wait for us at the camp?"

"They will join us tomorrow but I thought this would give us time on our own to talk about whatever you like, my sweet love."

"Whatever I like? No judgement or scolding?"

"Now I question if I should scold you if that is the response," she laughs.

He frowned, "It's just... I am sure that in your time away from King's Landing that you must have heard a thing or two about all of us and I can not help but imagine of all that you must think of us. Me in particular."

"I will admit, I have heard a thing or two while in Dorne but that does not mean that I have a fully colored image of who you are" she sighed. "And if we are being sincere, I felt many things about all that I heard regarding you."

Aegon looked away in shame, "I see. And what was it exactly?"

"Pity," she shrugged. "A bit of anger, but not at you, anger at your Mother and Grandsire. Mostly I felt that I wanted to protect you but I was uncertain how to go about it. There was some helplessness as well since my husband had fallen ill and could not come to visit sooner."

"Did you not feel shame for having a lily - liver'd and slow nephew? I'm not the Realms Delight or even worthy of being considered heir" he said bluntly.

"Is that truly what you think of yourself?"

"How else am I to think of myself, muña? Mother and Grandsire are always so quick to point out my flaws and my tutors never said it, but I could sense that they thought of me as a hapless fool."

His aunt pulled at the reigns of her horse to slow the beast down to trot alongside Aegon's own horse. "Let me ask you something, and when I ask it, I need you to be completely honest with me."

"What?"

"You said that you aren't the Realm's Delight, who was given this monicker?"

Aegon looked confused, "Rhaenyra? Who else?"

"When was she given this title? And by who?"

The boy thought for a moment, uncertain as he said "My Father? It is something I have always heard said of Rhaenyra. But why is that relevant?"

"Aegon, I need you to listen closely" she said. "She was given this monicker when she was a child of eight years, simply because courtiers thought her to be sweet and beautiful." She pointed at him with a short laugh, "You are a handsome young man, quick - witted when you choose to be, and amongst a variety of courtiers and diplomats. If you gave a smile and a few well placed laughs to certain nobles, it wouldn't be long until the perception of you has changed."

"Do you want me to behave like a clay - brained, sodden - witted fool? A smile and a few laughs aren't enough to change anything" he scowled. "It would be better to run off to Essos and live a life of comfort than have to grovel for even a modicum of respect from the likes of the court vultures."

She clench her jaw in mild frustration, "I am not asking you to do anything that is more than you are capable of Aegon. I am saying that the tides can be changed with a few things, because do you think that Rhaenyra can hold onto her title for much longer?"

"Muña, you are treading a dangerous line."

"If we ever wish to see change in our lives, sweet love, then the line must be trod whenever we see the opportunity given."

The young prince was mildly frustrated and hoped to change the subject entirely, and to his good fortune in the distance Aegon spotted a buck of a substantial size.

"I think we can drop the topic, muña because I intend on catching that buck!" and with a snap of his reigns, Aegon sped forward.

His aunt sighed with a wry smile and chased after the boy and buck, "He can try all he likes but we'll finish this talk whether he likes it or not!"

The aunt and nephew duo had managed to catch up swiftly to the buck, an arrow from Aegon was able to slow it down but it was a swift arrow behind the elbow of the buck's lead leg from (Y/N) that brought the great beast down. She had the young man strap the buck on his own so that they could quickly return to camp and skin it and prepare it for consumption later.

Rather than have Aemond and Halaena take part in the preparation of the meat, their aunt was quick to have them set off with their guards to prepare the fire and find herbs that could be used. Allowing for Aegon and herself to have more time to continue their discussion.

"Have at it" she said handing Aegon her sharpened knife. "Slice along the beasts belly and let us finish our talk."

"What is there -" he struggled to cut through the flesh "To talk about. We said all that need - needed to be said."

She pointed at the spot he finished cutting, "Stick your hands in and pull out the intestines. Aegon, don't make that face."

He scowled in disgust, "I don't want to take out the intestines that is disgusting."

"What's more disgusting is this attitude" she said. "Now take out the intestines before they swell and implode, it would contaminate the rest of the venison. And don't think because we caught this stupid thing, it means I will drop our subject from earlier."

Begrudgingly, he did as he was told and plopped the bloody organs into a bucket beside the table in which they were preparing the meat. She took the dagger from him and carefully began to remove the fur from the meat while rolling it up.

"You think to - " she cut further and handed him back the knife "to little of yourself Aegon. Keep skinning."

Shakily he did so.

"I know that you have heard things and taken them to heart because no one has said this otherwise, but I truly think that you could accomplish great things. If and only if we work together to find the things that you could put your time into, not simply because it is expected of you."

"You will be sorely disappointed muña, because I have had tutors that gave up long ago."

Gently she pushed the boy aside and took another dagger to help him skin faster, "Your previous tutors lacked creativity to trod the line and failed to consider that you learn better with other methods. Not everyone can read a text and execute the knowledge, some of us do better by example and practice." She pointed her blade toward the half finished deer carcass, "Or do you mean to tell me that you knew how to skin this beast until now?"

He flushed in embarrassment, "I suppose I hadn't thought about it. The letters of texts have always jumped and I was always forced to sit for hours until I finished what was given."

"It might surprise you Aegon, but your uncle Gwayne has the same condition" she chuckled. "He was never much for sitting still at a desk and couldn't get through a page without the letters mixing around. Thankfully our Uncle noticed and found other ways that Gwayne excelled, making my brother quite the formidable swordsman and knight."

Aegon chewed at his bottom lip in thought, "Is it possible then? For me to truly be accomplished? Even if it isn't in the areas that my Mother and Grandsire want?"

"It is why I argued with your Father" she said. "I knew that there were expectations but I know that together we can create reasonable goals that can lay the way towards a future you want to reach." Setting aside the blade in her hand, (Y/N) washed her hands free of the blood from skinning the deer and dried them quickly.

"If you really think that I can muña, then I would like to try, please?"

Gently and lovingly she cupped his face in her hands, "All I want is for you to try. Don't give up because others say that you cannot or because they have set the limits for you."

"It's difficult when all your life it feels that everyone is waiting for you to make the next mistake," he teared up and pressed into her embrace. "I already think that about myself every day that I awake."

"Sweet love, can you look at me?"

Nervously his eyes met her own.

Slowly she reached into the pocket of her skirt and procured a ring to show it at his eye level. Its stone was a yellow green peridot, the prongs were a bronze while the rest of the ring was a faded silver.

"I know that perhaps I pushed quite a bit at some of your boundaries today," she began. "But the main reason I had your brother and sister do other things today was because of this." Carefully she took one of his hands and placed the ring onto his palm, "Aegon? Would you be my heir?"

His eyes widened and he looked at her in shock, "You want me to be your heir?"

"In the grand scheme of things, I don't have quite as much to my name but I am asking you, my sweet Aegon if you would be my heir? I am giving you a choice, become the boy that they wish for you to be or the man that I know you can become with the right guidance."

He sniffled softly, "My Father wanted a son but has never wanted me. The realm has their flawless heir and despite all this, somehow you want me? Flaws and all to be your heir?"

"The choice is yours."

With a teary laugh, Aegon put the ring of green onto his pointer finger in admiration. "I hope you know that you are never getting this back, muña."

"And I would never ask, sweet love. It absolutely suits you."

There was no fanfare from trumpets, cheers from adoring peasants or nobles, and certainly no flowers tossed in the air. But in that moment; the muggy tent, sticky entrails, and slightly too big ring were enough for the young prince.

Someone he loved had chosen him.

And for him, that was enough.

[webslingingslasher]

hi j! what are cherry and peter doing right now??

comfortable silence.

peter's studying for an upcoming test and you're honed in on your current romance read. the main lead is cute, but nothing can top your peter parker fantasies.

'cherry?'

you finish your paragraph before looking at him, he's smiling a little too hard. 'you're so pretty.' you softly grin, feeling your lips curve up. 'and so is your handwriting.'

your eyebrows furrow at the odd compliment, you'll still accept it. 'thank you, lover.' peter clicks his pen a few times before finally coming clean. 'can you do me a favor? a really giant favor?'

you look down at your book and count the pages until the next chapter, you inwardly sigh and mentally commit before you bargain with him. peter's taught you there's give and take with love.

'can it wait three pages?' peter nods once, 'it can wait.' you give him a thumbs up and read a little faster for him, shutting the book with a satisfied smile once you reach chapter sixteen.

'what's the favor?'

peter turns back around, he looks guilty. he feels bad for asking. he holds up a blank piece of paper, you look at him for more context. 'we're allowed to use a cheat sheet for the test, one page only, front and back. i was wondering if you could do it for me?'

you pull a face, 'i don't know anything about what you're studying.' peter smiles and scrambles to pick up his notebook. 'no, no, i have it all highlighted. i just want you to copy it, i can't write that small and have it be legible.'

the task seems much more daunting than you expected. 'how much is there?' peter flips through the pages and lets out a deep breath, 'um, not much. just... basically everything?'

'oh boy.' peter took your boyfriend virginity and your real virginity, you can make a cheat sheet for him. it seems equal. 'pass it over, let me look at it.' once you have it in your hands you skim the highlighted areas, it would take some time and a dedication to splitting the sections to make it easier to read. you're already thinking of layouts.

'can i use my glitter pens?'

'absolutely.' the job just got easier. you nod confidently and agree to the ask. 'i can do that for you, petey. can i take it with me or do you need your book?'

peter rubs his lips together, he's staring at the holy grail that is super advanced something chemistry. he doesn't want you to take it but he's asking you for a favor so he's not sure how or if he can form the word no.

you do it for him. you're winning all the girlfriend awards today.

'nevermind, we'll keep it here.' peter visibly relaxes. 'but i need some markers, we're about to get real arts and crafty up in this bitch.' peter starts digging in his desk drawers, a box of markers tossed on the bed and a random textbook to follow as a makeshift table.

'i bet no one else's girlfriend is making their boyfriend's cheat sheet.' you start at the beginning and ask for more supplies. 'i need a ruler and a pencil. and the same color highlighters you used. oh, and that pen i like.'

peter's already collecting the tools, looking around his room for your bag. 'are your glitter pens in your bag?' you forgot you had them with you, the entire pencil case would be a savor right now. 'yes, but i left it downstairs.'

to peter, you're doing the biggest favor he's ever asked. he's willing to hunt and gather the supplies you need to make his life easier. 'on it. stay here and look pretty.' he's moving quick, you call out to him as he passes through the door. 'can you bring the whole thing, please?'

he doesn't respond but he comes right back up, pink bag in hand. 'where they at?' you point at the big pocket, your cherry printed pencil bag is handed over. (a gift from peter.)

'anything else? you want a coke, or a snack, or something?' you shake your head and start a header title for the first section, you're locked in. 'i'm okay.'

you highlight the title, there's another want brewing in your mind. 'actually...' peter perks right up, 'yes?' you pucker and tap your lips, your boyfriend is at your side and leaning down in seconds. three soft pecks, each one feels like an 'i love you.'

'you're sure there's nothing else you need?' he feels bad, it's a big ask. you've caught on and you're pushing him away gently. 'do you want me to do this or not?' peter nods quick and takes a large step back. 'i do, i just feel bad.'

'well, don't. and while i'm working on this you better keep revising, because you're going to bed at a decent time tonight, mister. and because you know how much i love the sound of your keyboard when you type.'

it's true, you've fallen asleep to the quiet clicking more than a few times.

peter bites back a smile. 'yes, ma'am.' you blow a kiss, 'good boy.'

peter revised, went to bed on time, and smugly showed off your work the following tuesday in class. 'see how organized this is, isn't my girl the best?'

peter passed with flying colors, he swears it's because of your cheat sheet and color coding. you tell him not to discredit his brain, he tells you not to discredit your work.

you compromise and accept the passing score with him because he swears it was built on teamwork. you think it's so you'll make him another the next time he asks.

and next time you'll be prepared with glitter glue. 

[reallyromealone]

Title: oh look a mate (s)

Pairing: demon brother's x reader

Chapter 2

Fandom: obey me

Warnings: male reader, omegaverse, nsfw content, angst, fluff, self hatred, reader has a lot of trauma, shitty family, toxic family, mentions of murder, attempted assassination mentioned

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

He remembered his first nest.

And how quickly his sister destroyed it.

His parents mocking him, his sister making him feel awful for having something like that.

This was what he thought of when he thought of inviting his family, that was the first memory he had.

He was eight at that time.

Staring at the paper, did he want to invite them?

"No, I don't think we're going to do that" he whispered to himself as he looked at the barely started letter, everytime he tried writing it another memory came back.

For once, he wanted something happy that they wouldn't intrude on.

This was for him.

Lucifer noticed something, something deeply concerning that he hadn't thought about till looking at (name) getting fitted for his wedding attire, he had no collar. His neck and scent glands exposed and no one caught this, how did they not notice this?! Lucifer looked at the ornate and beautiful collar he had commissioned, an expensive leather with their soulmate mark on a silver charm.

Simple but beautiful.

(Name) Was in his greenhouse again as Belphegor slept in the corner, (name) liked to think this was their hang out time because he would always appear when he was in here, it was nice.

(Name) Spoke about the things he was doing to the sleeping demon, a one sided conversation but (name) still enjoyed it as his happy pharamones filled the room "I'm growing tulips here, I think they would be lovely... I always loved them, they were my grandmothers favorites before she passed" he explained happily as he stretched "I think im done for the day" walking towards the demon he smiled "sorry but I'm going to need this, it's quite chilly today" he said as he went to take his cape but Belphegor had other ideas, pulling (name) in his embrace "this is very sweet but I think sleeping on a greenhouse ledge would hurt our backs"(name) said softly to the other who cracked an eye open and grunted "would you be willing to stay away a bit to go somewhere more comfortable?" He asked the Alpha who grunted "and where do you have in mind?"

Belphegor was a bit surprised when (name) had him teleport to (name)s space, the Omega leading him to his nest and gently pushing him in "much nicer!" He said simply as Belphegor let the other sit beside him as the demon pulled him close, already sleepy "you're a sleep demon right?" (Name) Asked curiously and Belphegor grunted "sloth avatar" his voice low and rumbly as (name) nodded "that must be tough"

"Not really... Now stop talking and sleep" he ordered the Omega who just let him hold him like a teddy bear.

The two slept for a few hours, the others looking for (name) everywhere before finding him in the nest "no fair, why does he get to go in the nest!" Beelzebub whined as (name) looked so peaceful "we'll get to go in it eventually" it was nice to see (name) let his guard down, he was sweet yes but always nervous...

"Let's let them sleep, his heats soon so it's best to let him conserve energy" Lucifer instructed as they begrudgingly left "I worry for his heat though " Asmodeus commented as they left the apartment and the others looked confused "he knows basically nothing... He's reading books to figure it out because he's worried he won't be good, I don't even think he's masturbated before" how could he? Suppressants basically knocked the libido out of you and not to mention his upbringing "a heat is scared, between an Omega and their body for the first few years and he was robbed of it" Satan said softly and they sighed, he couldn't have this heat by himself as their were traditions but they didn't want him going into his first heat after being in suppressants for years without knowing anything about sex.

"Maybe ask him if he wants to fuck?" Mammon said simply and Asmodeus glared at him "as much as I want that, we have to be delicate with him! Teach him how to pleasure himself!"

"Then let's to that then!" The white haired Alpha argued back and Lucifer and Satan just sighed and Levi wanted to just not be in this conversation anymore, embarrassed as hell.

(Name) Woke later on, The sun setting as Beelzebub walked in "have a good nap, sleepy?" He teased and (name) rubbed his eyes "how long did I sleep?" He whispered and Beelzebub chuckled "five hours"

"You guys let me sleep that long?!" He worried and the Alpha smiled "you were too cute to wake, now come on! It's dinner!" He seemed excited and (name) looked at Belphegor "don't worry about him, he usually gets leftovers later" Beelzebub lifted (name) as the Omega yelped "wait! I'm heavy!" He panicked and Beelzebub laughed "like holding a couple of grapes, don't worry I'm strong" he teased as they walked down the halls, the gluttony demon feeling how soft his mate was, face right near his chest... Nope don't get an erection right now! 'think of awful things!' he thought as he thought of the worst things imaginable, wasting food and uuuh Solomon shirtless!

'Bleh'

"There's the sleepy bunny~" Asmodeus teased, (name) looking a little disheveled as sleep still had him in a bit of a hold "sorry I slept so long..." He whispered and Mammon snorted "you were napping with Belph, he has that affect" the Omega nodded as Mammon put food on his plate, a bit extra as the Alpha felt the urge to make sure (name) was cared for.

They spoke of weddings and such as (name) enjoyed his meal, little chirps occasionally leaving his lips at the foods be particularly enjoyed as the demons watched happily "maybe when your garden is ready for harvest we can use them~" Lucifer on (name)s other side gently fixed the others shirt, a typical alpha grooming of his mate as he began (fixing/cleaning) his (hair/face) "how you manage to get dirty"

After dinner, (name) was curious as Lucifer halted him with Asmodeus standing beside him "could we talk to you? Just for a moment?" Lucifer asked the Omega who looked curious but nodded, letting Asmodeus take his hand as they went to Lucifer's office "we hope this isn't too forward darling but we wanted to ask..." Lucifer seemed to struggle on what to say exactly as Asmodeus stepped in "we want your first time to be memorable, not in the throws of heat where you may not remember and maybe understand your body more" Asmodeus said to the other who was now seated in a plush chair as Asmodeus crouched infront of him "you deserve to have your first time be on your terms and learn what you like, we don't have to have sex but would you be open to it?"

"I-I... Isn't mating for the alphas?" He was supposed to give alphas pleasure! He was an Omega!

"Oh darling no, Sex is supposed to be good for both parties, you and your comfort matter just as much as ours"

"You wouldn't see me as shameful for wanting that?" (Name)s voice barely above a whisper and the two got closer "darling im the avatar of lust, nothing you do would be shameful to me and Luci here just wants you to feel pride in yourself and your body" he explained and (name) felt his cheeks get wet with tears "promise?"

"Of course"

They set up for two days from now, Asmodeus would teach (name) about his body... Intimately.

And (name) was nervous but a heat pooled in his stomach he wasn't familiar with, ever since he stopped supressants his body had felt like shocks went through it whenever his alphas touched him, his omega quiet after so long begging him to do whorish things...

Oh god, he's been here a few weeks and he's already like this!

He wouldn't admit it but he liked how freeing it was, his mates never judging him....

They actively tried spending time with him, having him join their activities and lives.

He remembered when Lucifer tried teaching him how to ride a horse, the black haired demon sitting behind him on the stallion and guiding him gently, it was absolutely wonderful!

He wanted to treasure that memory forever...

Belphegor was still in the nest when (name) returned and changed into his sleep clothes getting comfortable and passing out as the sleep demon held him in a vice grip, possession absolutely noticable with the hold as (name) was soothed by how warm and cozy it felt.

(Sisters name) Was hysterical when the royal wedding was announced, a grand event that had the entire kingdom in a flurry of celebration as their town marketed that they were the town that had the Omega.

So she did what was logical.

Get rid of the problem in her life.

(Name) Wouldn't see what hit him.

"So, where do you feel most comfortable? This is about you" Asmodeus asked the Omega who fiddled with his hands and looked at his nest and his bed "would it... Be messy?"

"Only if we're doing it right~" he teased and kissed (name)s forehead "remember, this is what YOU want" he reminded (name) who looked at his bed and then his nest "nest?" He asked softly and Asmodeus smiled "of course, do I have permission to enter your pretty nest?" He asked as (name) got comfortable in it and the smile on (name)s face said a lot as he nodded, Asmodeus moving them so (name) was in his lap "remember what I taught you about safe words?" He asked the Omega who nodded "tell alpha" he commanded gently and smelt the small amount of slick that escaped the omegas body "green means good... Yellow means that I'm not sure and slow down and read is stop" he said confidently as Asmodeus kissed his neck lovingly "such a good boy" he whispered into his ear and smiled when (name) subconsciously bucked his hips, he knew this cutie had a praise kink.

After all, he always wanted to be good for him.

"Now, I'm going to remove your clothes, remember what to do if it gets uncomfortable" he said as he used his magic to make (name)s clothes vanish, the other covering himself shyly "none of that, let me see you" Asmodeus said sweetly as he watched (name) uncover himself and god, was his omega so pretty...

"Now, the first rule of sex is getting comfortable with your own body" Asmodeus explained as he took (name)s hands and moved them across the omegas own body "know what feels good" he pinched (name)s cute nipple before moving their hands lower "and to know what feels /great/" the demon wrapped their hands around (name)s cute Omegan cock that was already erect and gave it a tug, watching (name) throw his head back at the sensation "o-oh!" He was confused and awe struck by the sensation, this was way better than the pillow humping he had been pitifully been doing lately. "This is your pretty cock, stroke it, play with its head... It's yours to use whenever you want~" Asmodeus explained and (name) let out a shaky breath as they stroked his cock, legs spread across Asmodeus' own "and if we go lower, we have your ass" he whispered to (name) and smiled at how fucked out (name) looked already and they barely started "you gotta prep yourself real nice, slowly work your way in..."

(Name) Whined out as Asmodeus chuckled "none of that, pretty boy" he whispered as he pulled (name) into a sweet kiss, slipping his tongue in shortly after as he helped (name) loosen up with both of their fingers though Asmodeus was just guiding. "When you feel it's loose enough, slowly push in... Don't worry the slick will help you" he pulled away to continue his lesson with his omega who was already drooling and unfocused as Asmodeus gently helped him push in "all the way to the knuckle...~"

Asmodeus helped (name) fuck himself in one finger before slowly introducing a second finger, (name) could feel his erection on his back and rutted into it as his hips shook, his fingers felt good but not good enough... "It's not..." He couldn't figure out how to say it as Asmodeus kissed his scent gland "it's not what darling?" "M-more!" He cried out, fully lost in it as he pushed his hips up subconsciously.

"Do you want alpha to take care of you? Show you something great?" Asmodeus asked the other who wnined "what color are you baby?"

"Green!"

"Good boy"

Asmodeus removed (name)s fingers before replacing them with his larger ones, down to the knuckle before his other hand moved to the omegas cock "hey baby.. look at me" (name) complied as Asmodeus began thrusting against his prostate and jerking him off "shiaaa!" He could barely keep himself from cumming as he let out a loud cry, cum getting everywhere "and that pleasure button was your prostate... Use that whenever your heart desires ~ rub it and press it~" he said softly as (name) barely could stay awake "you wanna continue baby? Tell alpha"

"Gu-reen" he barely could sputter out and Asmodeus chuckled "you're too precious~ let's wash you up and feed you" he lifted (name) with ease and took him to the ensuite washroom "you did do good, you were so pretty~" he praised the Omega who was putty in his hold, (name) definitely bad a lot of time to make up for with how repressed the poor thing was sexually...

The other brothers stroked themselves vigorously as they heard the sounds of (name) being pleasured and inevitable climax that had the Omega screaming.

"He's fast asleep, poor thing wanted more but could barely stay awake" Asmodeus said fondly as the others gathered in the parlor "hes definitely eager, loves to be a good boy ~" the smell of a pleasured Omega was strong, the smell of (pharamones smell) stronger and sweeter "before I put him to bed, he asked if you guys could join next time ~ such a sweet little thing"

He definitely was going to be a good dam to their respective pups.

The other alphas were definitely interested in joining next time.

With the news of the wedding approaching, the men were taking even more precautions and safety measures for the Omega, already having three poisoning attempts and an assassin that they apprehended while (name) was sleeping.

Switching their cutlery to silver from gold and both the food tester and Beelzebub to test (name)s food, the demon immune thankfully as the rest.

At most he would just have a stomach ache for an hour.

It was intense, the men constantly worrying for him as he went about his day with more guards much to his confusion as the days ticked closer, the grand wedding hall being decorated along with the rest of the palace as guests from around the world began arriving as he took a walk through the gardens, the demons having (name)s favorite flowers planted as he was the one who frequented the area the most.

currently he was trying to find Lucifer, the demon wanting to have tea with him but (name) was a bit directionally challenged as he eventually spotted horns and black hair "you're late" Lucifer remarked without any bite as he stood for the Omega, checking him over "I have something for you" the demon didn't waste time as he pulled out the collar "it's not safe to be unprotected like this" his words simple as (name) looked at the collar.

His family never let him have one, a form of control he supposed and he couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks as the demon looked worried "do you not like it?" His voice laced with light panic and (name) shook his head "i-i never had one??" His voice confused but soon Lucifer clicked the situation together and smiled "I will never let you go without, my love" he gently put the collar on (name), the Omega dressing in more lace and delicate clothes these days as Asmodeus had a fixation on shopping for him, it went together quite well "beautiful..."

"You think?" (Name) Asked nervously and Lucifer leaned down and kissed him "we'll get you countless collars in any color you want" he said honestly before leading (name) to the garden table with treats and tea set up "now, shall we eat?"

(Name) Was curious as he was handed a letter from his family, his father's seal in wax staring back at him.He didn't know what to do, this would be the first time in over a month that he would be hearing from his family.

He didn't know what to expect.

"Are you alright, Darling?" That was also a few development with the demons, pet names.

And Satan surprisingly besides Asmodeus was very heavy with them.

"I... I received a letter from my family" Satan was immediately suspicious of this letter as he walked to his omega "do you trust me?" He asked the Omega who nodded obediently "of course" he chirped "could I see this letter? To soothe my nerves" (name) knew of the things that have been happening and nodded, handing him the letter without a second thought and the blond gently kissed him "thank you, my dear"

He had the two poison testers open the letter in a glass room, something their grandfather made when people began putting poisonous powder in letters, it wasn't poisoned thankfully.

That would make for an angry Satan :).

But the contents of the letter?

Oh.

Ohohoho.

That made for him to get so upset he transformed a little more demonic from rage.

'(name),

We have been informed by our neighbors about your wedding, a surprise to us all as you haven't even sent your family an invitation seeing as you stole your sisters moment and flaunted it infront of her.

We are thoroughly disappointed and appalled at your attitude and would expect you to invite your sister as she deserves to see the life you stole from her even just once.

We are expecting an invite promptly.

(Mother's name) And (father's name), (lastname)'

The audacity.

The sheer audacity of these people, how did (name) manage to be related to these insects of people?! "definitely not letting Belphegor read this" or maybe he should... No (name) would be upset.

"Maybe we should invite them... One last look at someone they took for granted" and before they kept (name) away forever.

Give him everything and more.

God he couldn't wait to give that cute Omega who was currently petting one of the off duty p

[potatoplace]

Get Cozy Since We're Both Lonely

Welcome To The Family: Chapter 1 | series masterlist

chapter 2 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist | AO3

Nesta x Reader

Story Summary: You lost your family in the attack on Velaris by Hybern. Nesta lost her humanity and gained a tremendous amount of trauma. Together you find a grand romance between yourselves, and an unwavering commitment to help each other.

Warnings: smut-ish, smut-lite maybe? Nothing too graphic, but a looot of kissing, very horny lol

Words: ~7k

Author's Note: oh my goooood I love this SO MUUUCH SAPPHIC NESTA YES PLEASE THANK YOU BRAIN. I would very much like to have Nesta as my wifey, thank you very much. I hope you all like this! A very different vibe than what I've been writing recently lol. But yesss enjoy my sweet Nesta being treated like the lovely person that she is! (Also this ended up sooo much longer than I expected) - oh and series name is a Watsky song, and the chapter title name is lyrics from it 🫶

18+ only pls

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She was beautiful.

Gorgeous.

Ethereal.

A goddess brought before you, rendered into flesh, perusing the stacks of your bookstore nearly every day.

The eldest sister of your High Lady had utterly captivated you from the moment you had met her, her presence never failing to draw your eyes.

She was breathtaking, yes, but it was everything about her that kept your attention. Her tastes in literature, her coffee order - two shots of espresso poured over ice - the way she dressed, how she always had her hair pulled up, her laugh, her voice.

Each new thing you learned about her, saw in her stunning blue gray eyes made you more interested in Nesta, filling your thoughts with her.

Never before had you felt infatuated with another female, though you had felt an attraction towards some.

But Nesta?

Your thoughts revolved around her visits to your bookstore, each day spent hoping that she would walk in.

It had only been a few months since you had first met Nesta, and only a few months before that since you had lost your family.

The attack on Velaris had stolen your family from you, leaving you in charge of the bookstore and coffee shop that your family had so happily run for generations.

And now it was just you.

Meeting Nesta had been the first good thing to happen to you since that fateful day, her husky voice asking if you carried any romance novels.

From those words alone, you were a goner.

An instant blush had covered your face as you led her over to said section, reluctantly leaving her to browse the titles you carried.

You wanted to know what titles interested her.

Romance had been your own favorite genre since you had been a teenager, only a decade ago. Not what your family had teased you about them being - primarily sex with no plot. No, you preferred soft writing, filled with the gentle building of feelings and, yes, occasionally ending with a few scenes of smut. But the buildup was what you preferred, and the faithful love that the characters had built between them.

And to your absolute delight, Nesta was the same. She even binge read your favorite series, Enchanted, within a week, returning every day to pick up the next book.

Each day, you felt as though her fingers brushed against yours for slightly longer, lingering as she took her receipt.

But you weren't brave enough to ask her if she felt the same overwhelming attraction and interest that you held for her. You knew that there were some fae who enjoyed the company of the same sex, but Nesta had once been a human, and you weren't sure of how accepting they were.

So you stayed quiet, drinking in every second of her presence, giving her free refills of coffee when she chose to stay and read in one of the cozy armchairs you had in front of the fireplace.

Every day you saw her kept your mind off the gaping void in your chest, filling you with warmth. The only other thing that came close to the same effect as Nesta had was the novels that had become your life. Every new book that passed into your store caught your attention, giving you something to fill your mind with.

Today has been hard. Eight months since your family had been slaughtered, and the sky was weeping with you. Hardly any customers had entered your building, for which you were thankful. Your eyes were blurry more often than they weren't, tears slipping down your face, so similarly to the rain sliding down the windows.

Rarely did you drink, but you found yourself at Rita's that night, looking for something to soothe your pain in a way that written words could not. Two vodka cranberries later, and the noise of the bar had become a pleasant thing, your head bobbing to the music.

Someone slid onto the stool next to you. "I'll have a gin and tonic, please," the familiar, rich voice said from your left.

A turn of your head confirmed that it was Nesta who had sat next to you, dressed in a high necked, long sleeved dark purple dress. Your could just see her black heeled boots, hooked on the bar of the stool.

As usual, she looked fantastic. Her hair was braided and pinned into a crown around her head, her eyes sparkling with a bit of pale lavender eyeshadow.

"Hello, Y/N. I've never seen you in here before," Nesta said once she had noticed your eyes on her.

"Ah, I uhm... I don't go out too often, anymore," you replied, your voice a bit shaky. "Do you come here often?"

"Every now and then, when I don't feel like spending my evenings in solitude," Nesta explained, the hints of a smile starting to show. "And I should feel lucky, then, that I happened to be here the same night you decided to come out."

"Oh?" You asked, a bit of heat rising to your cheeks. "Have you been hoping to see me here?"

The hints had turned to a full blown grin, a stunning sight on her.

You would do anything to see it again.

"As a matter of fact, I have. I wanted to ask you about something," Nesta said, a hint of... heat? In her voice.

You bit your lip. "And?"

Nesta's eyes flicked away from yours briefly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Your heartbeat quickened, more blood coming to your cheeks. Before her? You had hoped. After her? You knew. "I do."

Nesta's eyes crinkled, warmth flooding them. "That's funny, I do too." The bartender set Nesta's drink in front of her, and she took a long sip. "I wasn't sure about it for a while, but I think I'm convinced now."

"Really? What changed?" You asked, slightly breathless, both from anticipation and having drank more than you had in couple of months.

Nesta's soft laugh had you melting, your body leaning in her direction, breathing in a bit of her snow and fire scent - quite possibly more intoxicating than the drinks you'd had.

"You. I can't- I have never wanted to be around someone, or wanted someone as much as I want you," Nesta breathed, blush coloring her cheeks as she stared into your eyes, her confession hanging between the two of you.

A smile spread across your lips. "That's good, perfect, actually. I feel the same, Nesta," you admitted, drinking in the way her eyes lit up at your words.

"I'm glad to hear that we're in agreement," Nesta said, finishing the rest of her drink before standing. "Dance with me?" She asked, holding out one of her elegant hands for you to take.

You did in a heartbeat, savoring the warmth of her hand in yours.

You were an awful dancer, but with Nesta next to you, those soft laughs and shining eyes directed at you, you didn't mind embarrassing yourself a bit. Not when she kept pulling you in close, your chests pressed together, lips hovering an inch apart as you gazed up at her, your eyes locked together.

The night passed in a blur of dancing and stumbling back to your apartment, arms locked tightly together in the cold February night. Into your bookstore, past the coffee bar, bookshelves, up the stairs and into your apartment.

Somehow you ended up on the couch, both of you barefooted, hands hovering over each other - afraid to make first contact.

"I... I've never... Done this," Nesta gestured between you. "Before."

You could hear the nerves in her voice now that you were alone together, in the quiet of your living room.

"I haven't either," you admitted with a shy smile. "But it... Are you okay?"

Nesta's lips tilted up. "I'm okay. Just... a tad nervous," she whispered.

Your nose scrunched when your smile widened. "I am too. We can be nervous together," you giggled, happy to see Nesta's expression matching your own. You let your hands touch her, one resting on her right shoulder, the other falling to her left arm, a thumb rubbing over the soft fabric of her dress. Nesta's eyes flicked down before returning to your face, a light blush crawling over her cheeks.

She let her own arms fall over your shoulders, hands toying with the curls of your hair, nails brushing gently against your scalp. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the sensation sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

When they opened again, Nesta's face was closer, her eyes darting down to your lips.

You took the plunge, bringing your lips to hers. Soft, plush, exactly how you'd imagined they would feel. It was a kiss just like those you had read about, gentle and tender, full of hope and longing. You let your arms encircle Nesta as she pulled your closer, one of her hands gently fisted in your hair and the other pressing against your back.

When you parted, it was just barely, your lips hovering next to each other as you breathed in the same air, cheeks flushed as your eyes met.

"I think... Being nervous together is a good idea," Nesta breathed, a giggle leaving your lips.

"I agree." You kissed her again, this one just as sweet but firmer, more sure. Your mouths fit perfectly together, moving in tandem without a thought, only pulling away to reposition. Nesta gently pulled you over her lap, your legs straddling hers, lips returning to yours as soon as you were settled, chests pressed together. Her hands returned to your hair, keeping you close as your own cradled the back of her head.

You couldn't get enough of her, get close enough to her. And it seemed as though she was in the same state, keeping you pulled into her even when you parted for breath.

It was when one of her hands snaked underneath your shirt, running up the line of your spine that you let out a soft gasp, hand clutching at her shoulder. Your cheeks somehow colored further, but Nesta seemed delighted by the noise. Her fingers feathered over your spine again, eyes drinking in the way yours fluttered from her touch.

"Sensitive?" She asked, her voice deep, needy.

"Mhm." A scrape of her fingernails had your spine arching, pressing you further against her. "Not fair," you mumbled.

"Mm, you'll just have to find my sweet spots, love," Nesta whispered lowly in your ear. She pressed a gentle kiss to it, then a slow trail down your neck, hand continuing its slow path along your spine.

"Is that a challenge?" You asked breathily, tilting your neck to give her better access.

"More like an invitation."

Your heart stuttered. "I'll definitely be taking you up on that," you whispered, a soft moan leaving your lips when Nesta's lips sucked on your neck gently.

Your head dropped to her shoulder, arms tightening around her. You felt like jelly already, and you hadn't even taken your clothes off.

"Which way to the bedroom, Y/N?" Nesta asked once she relinquished your neck, peppering small kisses along it.

"Mm... Behind the couch," you said, distracted by how intoxicating Nesta was proving herself to be.

Nesta chuckled softly into your ear. "Care to show me?"

You pulled away from her slightly, meeting her eyes. Absolutely stunning, and full of lust. You nodded, and managed to pull yourself off of her, albeit reluctantly. In the few seconds it took to lead her into your bedroom, you missed her warmth and gentle touch.

The faelights in your room came to life as you entered, softly illuminating your room.

You were glad you had made your bed this morning.

Nesta's hands on your waist turned you around, pulling you back into her and into a kiss, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

The alcohol still running through your veins made it easy to pull it off of you, leaving your breasts covered in just a bralette, Nesta's fingers quickly running over the fabric.

"You are absolutely stunning," Nesta said softly. "And you'll have to let me know where you got this," she demanded as she tugged on one of the straps with one hand.

"I think you'll like the matching panties then, too," you giggled, pulling her lips to yours.

"Oh really? How about we find out?" Nesta asked, gently pushing you to the bed, a playful fire in her eyes.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you said, letting her push you onto the bed, her body following soon after.

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Waking was a slow process, your bed warmer and cozier than you ever remembered it being.

It was only when you registered soft breathing coming from in front of you that you remembered the previous night, a smile coming to your lips.

Nesta.

Your eyes fluttered open, met with the sight of her sleeping in front of you. You felt her arm draped over your side, hand against your back.

You had never felt more comfortable or at peace.

Still, the light filtering in through the curtains told you it was past the time you normally woke to open the bookstore, and you had to slowly pull yourself from Nesta's grasp, much to your dismay.

You would much rather stay here, wrapped up with her forever.

You had just finished washing up and dressing in the bathroom when you heard Nesta moving about. Opening the door, you saw that she had sat up in your bed, sheets pulled to her chest.

"Morning," you said quietly as you left the bathroom, standing between it and the bed, unsure of how to proceed.

"Morning, Y/N," Nesta said, her voice still thick with sleep.

You bit your lip, wishing in that moment that you could read minds. "So... Do..." you paused. "Do you want to do this again?"

Nesta blinked at you a few times, before a small smile slid across her face. "I'd like that," she answered quietly. She almost seemed... Shy.

"How about... tonight?" You asked, delighted when she immediately shook her head yes.

"I'd love that, Y/N. When should I come by?"

"Mm, I normally close the store around six, so you could come by then. Would... Would you like to go to dinner?"

"That sounds lovely, Y/N. Six it is," Nesta confirmed, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

"Perfect, Nesta. I've got to go open the shop, but feel free to bathe if you'd like. I'll see you downstairs," you said, a smile glued to your face as you took in your last look at her before you left the room.

Her hair was still in its style from last night, but strands of it were poking out in some places.

She took your breath away, even when ruffled by sleep.

Opening the store went smoothly, luckily with no customers already waiting outside.

Less than half an hour later, Nesta came downstairs, clothed again in her dress from last night, looking just as beautiful.

"Coffee?" You asked, already making her usual drink for her.

"Yes, please," she sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "I don't think I drank enough water last night," she said with a soft laugh, warmth rushing straight to your heart.

"I'll make sure you do in the future," you said lightly.

Nesta smiled at you, her eyes crinkling. "I'd like that."

You bit your lip as you grinned at her, passing her coffee over, your hand lingering on hers. "I'll see you tonight?"

Nesta nodded. "I'll see you tonight, Y/N."

She left your store, taking one last glance over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.

You were grinning like an idiot, absolutely thrilled with how well last night had went, no matter how unexpected it had been.

Your date that night went perfectly, ending with the two of you snuggled up in bed after a vigorous make out session, both of you too tired to do much more.

The two of you ended up going to dinner the next night.

And the next.

And the next.

Soon enough, you had spent an entire month together, wrapped in each other's presences. You could safely say you were falling for her, or had fallen for her, or that you were madly in love with her already. All of them were true, as your love continued to grow each and every day, with every passing second you spent with her.

One of your favorite memories so far was yesterday, when the two of you had a picnic by the Sidra, a soft blanket spread out beneath you and a basket loaded full of your favorite pastries, cheeses, fruit, and smoked meats, and a bottle of sparkling wine that the two of you shared.

Together you had read the newest romance novel to arrive at your shop, spending the entire day together with the babbling of the river as your chosen music.

Eventually the two of you had packed up and gone back to her apartment, her large bathtub the most recent place you had made love.

Over your perfect first month together, you had noticed... Nesta seemed to be struggling. There were days that she couldn't keep a train of thought, wrapped up in the memories that you assumed were not pleasant ones. Sometimes she snapped at you over the smallest things, normally something to do with noise.

You never blamed her, knowing that she had gained an entirely new set of senses in the past year... But you wanted to love her. To help her. In any way that you could.

So today, after much prodding and gentle suggestion, you were taking Nesta to the office your own therapist worked at.

Not to your therapist, of course, but to one of the many other trusted trauma mind healers that Velaris had.

"You said I can leave if I want, right?" Nesta asked, her voice a bit shaky.

"Of course. The first session is normally pretty light, mainly getting your back story and what you'd like to work on. And their rooms have silencing wards on them so no one else will hear anything. And the files they keep are spelled so only your therapist can read them unless you give permission. Not even the High Lord."

You knew you were overexplaining, but it had been the only way so far to talk Nesta into getting some kind of help, along with your offered bribe of massages after every session she did. And she had been nervous about her brother in law possibly accessing the files... You weren't entirely certain on their relationship, but on the few nights you hadn't had dinner together, she had gone to her family dinners. And those nights, she tended to come to your apartment in an off mood, like the confidence had been squished out of her.

So you made certain she knew any information she gave her healer would be safe, unable to be accessed unless she allowed it.

Nesta sighed, but let you lead her into the office anyways. "I want lots of cuddling, too," she whispered as the pair of you approached the receptionist's counter.

"Whatever you want, cutie," you agreed, giving her a peck on the cheek. "We're here for an appointment, for Nesta," you said to the receptionist, squeezing Nesta's hand back when she gripped yours tighter.

"Alright, I'll let your healer know," the female behind the counter said, and gestured towards the sitting area. "Go ahead and take a seat, she'll be out for you soon."

"Thank you," you said, leading Nesta over to a couch and wrapping an arm around her. "I'm so proud of you, Nes. Really, it's hard to start this stuff... It took me a long time to get myself in."

A light blush dusted Nesta's cheeks at your words, but she didn't fight them. "Thank you, love. I'm... I'm glad you convinced me..." she whispered, her voice still filled with nerves.

A door swung open, revealing a middle aged high fae female. "Nesta?"

You gave her a big smile before urging her to get up, blowing her a kiss before she disappeared behind the door.

The hour passed by slowly, each minute lightening the worry in your heart. You had been a bit worried about Nesta leaving the appointment five minutes in, but after a half an hour, you were certain that she would make it through the entire session.

To your relief, she did. When she walked out, her eyes were a bit red, but she waved goodbye to the female and promised to meet her next week. Pride swelled in your chest at that, so happy that your love was ready to commit to help.

She walked over to you, arms extended, and without hesitating you gave her a big hug, squeezing her tight.

"How'd it go, love?"

"Good... Hard, but it was... It was nice to talk."

You smiled gently at her, eyes holding her gaze. "I'm glad, Nes. I think you'll enjoy it. *And I'm excited to give you a massage," you giggled, pulling her out of the office and back into the streets.

Nesta laughed, and even if it was still a bit sad, you took it as a win. "I'm excited for that too, honey."

You flushed at the pet name- she had rarely called you that outside of the privacy of your bedroom. It brought up... heated memories.

Nesta knew that, and pinched your ass as she practically chased you back home. As soon as you were shut in your apartment, she threw her dress off, leaving her in just her undergarments, and laid down on the couch. "Massage please," Nesta said, her slight whine so cute that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, my love," you giggled, crawling on top of her so you could start easing the tension from her back and shoulders.

Over the next two weeks, both you and Nesta continued seeing each other whenever you were able, and Nesta started going to see her healer twice a week, already making some strides in learning to manage her trauma.

It was a Wednesday night when you said it. You had both clumsily cooked chicken alfredo, both of you mediocre at cooking at best, so it was a surprise it came out decent at all. The process had probably taken longer than it needed to, with how often the two of you stopped to kiss and touch each other.

It was over dinner that it slipped out, so casually that it shocked even you.

Nesta had just told you a joke about - you couldn't even remember what it was about - but you had laughed so hard, a laugh that was pure joy.

"Mother, I love you," you said, clearly, boldly.

Nesta's eyes widened slightly, and in the few seconds she didn't respond your heart sank into the floor, in the earth.

"I- I love you too," Nesta said softly, a gentle expression on her face.

You grinned and grabbed one of her hands, pressing a firm kiss to the top of it. "You do?"

Nesta narrowed her eyes at you playfully before smiling at you. "I do, Y/N."

"Good. That makes me just as happy as loving you makes me," you cooed, standing from your chair and going over to her. "I hope you know how lucky I consider myself to have you in my life."

Nesta flushed bright red at your admission, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. "I- I don't understand how I got you," Nesta whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I'm such a-" she sniffled. "A bad person."

You sank to your knees in front of her, hands cupping her face. "Hey- that is not true at all Nesta. You are so wonderful, and caring, and kind. You are an amazing person, Nesta. And you have me because you are an amazing person. I love you for who you are, Nessie." You hoped your eyes conveyed just how much your cherished her, cared for her, loved her.

Nesta was quiet for a minute, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. "Really?"

You smiled at her lovingly. "Really. Now, if anyone said those words to you, I will go beat the crap out of them for you. You do not deserve to hear those words. And if it was you that said them to yourself, well, I'll make sure you know every day just how amazing you are," you offered.

Nesta laughed weakly. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll be able to handle it. Though you praising me... I think I can handle that," she said, her lips just barely tilting up.

"Well, let me start right now. You are so sweet, and you know how to cook just as well as I do, aaand you know exactly how to cheer me up when I'm having a tough day," you said, rising up a bit to pepper kisses over Nesta's wet cheeks. Her eyes closed and nose wrinkled as you did so, allowing you to press a light kiss over each eye, causing her to laugh.

"Okay, okay. You can stop," Nesta giggled, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. She pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, soft and sweet. "Thank you, Y/N. For everything."

"You're welcome, my love. Now... How about dessert?" You asked, quirking a brow at her. "Snuggles? Kisses? Actually dessert?"

Nesta rolled her eyes, but stood from her chair and pulled you towards the bedroom. "How about all three? And maybe a bit more?" She asked in a sultry tone.

"A bit more would be lovely."

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Another month passed in almost complete bliss, your life with Nesta falling perfectly into place. Therapy was going well for both of you, and you felt more alive than you had ever since you lost your family.

Nesta was the sun in your life, even when it was raining. Her presence never failed to make you happy, and you loved that you seemed to do the same for her. She was still struggling some days, but she seemed to be better at pulling herself out of it and processing what was wrong.

That alone made you beam with pride, how far she had come in trying to heal.

Every morning now, Nesta helped you open the bookstore, and you had even taught her how to make the drinks you serve in the small café. For most of the day, she read in an armchair next to the fire, and helped you restocked books.

You had mentioned something about needing to pay her for her work, but Nes had adamantly refused, claiming that her time with you was more than enough payment.

So instead, you gave her any books she wanted for free. Most of the time, the books stayed in the building, simply making their way up to your apartment, normally to your bedside tables.

Today, Nesta was out at the High Lord and Lady's house, attending one of the weekly family dinners she was seemingly required to attend.

You didn't mind, of course, you thought that Nesta being close with her sisters was extremely important. It's just...

Every week, she tended to have a bad day after their dinners, and you were... Well, you were concerned that something nefarious was happening there, something that was hurting Nesta. Whatever it was, she had refused to talk to you about it as of now.

So tonight, you'd made yourself a simple salad with a bit of salmon on it, and had a quiet bubble bath while you waited for Nesta to come home.

You'd nearly fallen asleep while reading in bed by the time she came into the bedroom.

"Marry me."

That woke you up, book forgotten as you sat up.

"What?" You asked, heart thudding in your chest.

"Marry me, Y/N," Nesta said again, striding across the room to your bedside. "I don't-" she took a deep, steadying breath. "I don't ever want to spend another day without you, and I don't want to spent another day not married to you."

You were breathing faster now, heart racing in your chest as she spoke. "Really?"

Nesta grinned at you. "Really."

You bolted out of bed and into her arms, letting her spin you in a circle. "Yes! Yes, yes yes, Nessie!" You exclaimed, planting a kiss on her lips once you stilled.

Both of you had rosy cheeks from your excitement, and matching toothy smiles as you stared at each other.

"So... Want to go track down a priestess with me?" Nesta asked, intertwining her fingers with yours.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you said, already moving to the closet to get changed.

"Oh, no, I think you should go just like this," Nesta whispered in your ear as she wrapped her arms around you, one hand resting on your stomach and the other in between your breasts.

You giggled at the suggestion. "Nessie I'm in a nightgown, and a skimpy one at that."

"All the better, just wear a long coat over it," Nesta said between the soft kisses she was placing on your neck.

"As much as you would enjoy the view, I'd much rather be in a pretty and slightly more appropriate dress, love." You started flicking through your options, though you were very distracted by the female behind you, still loving on the skin of your neck.

"I suppose I could change as well, put on something a bit more elegant," Nesta said, pulling away from your neck.

"Mm, we could dress and undress each other for our wedding."

"That's just what I was thinking, honey." Nesta began flipping through her own wardrobe that she'd begun to leave here, quickly settling on a long sleeved dress that would reach her ankles, made of a beautiful silk. It was one of the dresses that you absolutely adored her in, but almost never made it out of the house, or even the bedroom.

"Oh, Nes, you know that after this that dress will absolutely never see the light of day again because I will keep you in here with me for hours, right?"

Nesta chuckled from beside you as she began undressing. "I was counting on that, baby."

You rolled your eyes playfully at her before picking out the dress you would wear. You didn't have near as many fancy dresses as Nesta did, but the silk wrap dress that reached your knees would be nice enough for the occasion. It was in a light lavender, with a ribbon to tie around your waist.

"Love, I could say the exact same thing about your choice. You look fantastic in that dress, I think maybe we'll have to have a little reenactment once a month or so," Nesta said once she eyed the dress you had picked.

You kissed her firmly, pouring all of your love into it. "We just might. Now, let's get dressed quickly so that we can find a priestess before they're all asleep," you said, lightly pulling her dress off its hanger.

It may not have been quick, but you and Nesta both got changed into your chosen outfits, with many kisses and gentle touches exchanged in the process.

"Oh- do we have rings?" You asked just as you left the bookstore, locking it behind you.

Nesta froze for a moment. "No. Shit, how could I have forgotten the rings...?" She muttered.

"That's fine, I'm sure someone will be open in the Palace of Thread and Jewels, and it's on the way to the Temple," you told her, grasping her hand and pulling her in that direction.

Sure enough, there were a few vendors that were just about to pack up, and one of them happened to have a display filled with gorgeous rings, some even shown as a matching set.

Together you picked out a matching set of rings, designed with a thin silver band and a small, pale pink diamond in the center. Simple but elegant, with silver for Nesta and pink for you.

The next task in your list to get married was easily accomplished, with the Temple of Night still buzzing with priestesses. One of them, Rosanna, who you had spoken with at your store before, and was more than willing to help you and Nesta on short notice.

With excitement buzzing in your veins, you and Nesta walked hand in hand into the ceremony room, the vaulted ceiling made entirely of glass and pouring moonlight into the room.

Rosanna stood behind the altar in the center of the room, and gestured for the two of you to stand on either side of it.

Once you were in your places, Rosanna lit the three candles on the altar, letting them burn for a minute before speaking.

"Hold your hands together over the flames, please," she requested, and the two of you complied, sharing happy smiles as your eyes met. "The Mother has brought the two of you together with the strings of fate, and with those very strings you choose to bind yourselves for eternity. Tonight you have decided to share your souls, binding them under the moonlight for better or for worse, never to be parted. The flames beneath your hands represent the trials you might face in your shared lives, but with each other, you will persevere. Do you have vows prepared?"

Nesta spoke first, tears shining in her eyes. "In the time that I have known you, Y/N, you have always helped me, cared for me, and shared your love with me. I hope to always return your affections, to keep you safe, and make you happy. I love you, Y/N, and I will always love you."

By the time Nesta finished her vows, tears were streaming down your face, and you were barely able to pull yourself together to say your own.

"Nesta, you have always been a bright light in my life, bringing me joy even if just with a passing smile or a brush of your hand. You have helped me feel alive again, and have made my life so much happier and lively since we have been together. I love you forever, no matter what."

Now both of you were crying, hands squeezed tightly together over the warmth of the candles.

"The Mother sees your devotion, and blesses this union. You may now kiss the bride," Rosanna said cheerily, watching as you and Nesta raised your clasped hands so that your faces could meet over the flames, a gentle joining of your lips the first kiss of your married life. Together, you blew out the flames, only then releasing your hands. You slid Nesta's onto her ring finger, appreciating how perfect it looked on her. Nesta did the same for you, rubbing her thumb over it once it was securely on your finger.

"Now, who will be taking the other's last name?"

"I'll take Nesta's," you answered quickly, grinning at your now wife. "It would be strange for you to not be Nesta Archeron," you said softly. "And... I'd like to take your last name."

Nesta's light blush was enough of an answer for you, but she confirmed it for Rosanna anyways. "Y/N will be taking my last name."

"That's wonderful. I hope the two of you have a wonderful marriage, Mrs and Mrs Nesta Archeron," Rosanna said formally. "And Y/N, I'll be expecting a coffee as my payment for this," Rosanna teased with a wink before leading the two of you out of the temple. "Now go, enjoy your first night as a married couple!"

You and Nesta giggled softly together, but did as she said, stopping in at Rita's for one drink each. After that, you headed straight home, more than ready to have a long night together. Nesta's wandering hands made themselves known on the walk, pinching your ass every now and then.

By the time you made it into your apartment, Nesta's hands were already untying the ribbon of your dress, her lips on your throat.

Oh yes, it would be a long night.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

The next morning, you decided to keep the store closed, staying in with your new wife instead.

Somehow, that title had made Nesta even more attractive to you, which you had previously thought impossible. You woke before her, and just laid staring at her beautiful face as she slept.

Of course, she had gently swatted at you when she realized you had been watching her sleep, but you only laughed and nuzzled into her, relishing in the soft whimpers she let out when you licked at her neck.

"Good morning, my sweet wife," you whispered in her ear. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a goddess," Nesta said softly, turning so she was facing you. "I think that's due to my pretty little wife sleeping next to me."

You blushed at her words, loving this new title you had for one another. "Mm, I think so too. Having you next to me always makes my sleep better."

Nesta let out a pleased huff, her eyes drifting closed. "That's good, love." She yawned wide, her body going taught before relaxing even more in your arms.

You loved when Nesta was sleepy, she was always so adorable.

"Don't go back to bed, Nessie, I wanted to make breakfast together," you whined quietly, without any real force behind it. If you tried, you could likely fall back asleep in Nesta's embrace.

"Mm, only if you find a way to make me wake up," Nesta replied, yawning halfway through.

An idea sparked in your head.

You gently pushed Nesta back onto her back, ignoring her huffy breaths of protest in favor of crawling beneath the blankets, settling yourself between her legs.

She would be better than breakfast.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Your first five days of marriage, you hardly left your apartment. If you did, it was for you and Nesta to run the bookstore, only managing it for a couple of hours at a time before you slipped back upstairs after turning over the open sign in the window.

It was absolute bliss, getting to know Nesta even better, hearing more about what she wanted from a marriage. Someone who is not only her partner, but also her best friend, and someone that she can trust.

You were happy to say that you fit the bill.

It was on your sixth day that Nesta paced around your apartment before you had even woken.

"What's up, Nessie?" You asked her, peeling yourself out of bed to stop her in her tracks.

"Somehow-" Nesta paused, taking a calming breath. "Somehow my family found out about our wedding, and they... They want to meet you," she explained, a distraught look on her face.

"I... Is that a bad thing...?" You asked hesitantly.

Nesta nodded, but panicked when she saw your face fall at her answer. "Not because of you! It's because of them. I don't... I don't know how they'll react. I don't care, but I don't want you to be hurt," Nesta clarified.

"Oh, Nes. I'm sure I'll be fine, and if they say anything rude, we can just leave. Right?"

Nesta's face scrunched up in the way she did when she wasn't happy with the outcome, but had to accept it anyway. "I suppose..."

"And if they don't say anything rude, then it will have been a nice gesture of them to care enough to meet me," you said, swiping a thumb soothingly across her cheek.

Nesta sighed. "I guess you're right... So... tomorrow at seven?"

You smiled. "I'll be ready, Nes. Now - I thought that today we could move the rest of your things in here, if you'd like?" You said, attempting to not only distract her from tomorrow, but get her to fully live with you.

It worked, warmth flooding Nesta's lovely blue-gray eyes. "I'd love to, honey."

Once you managed to keep yourselves clothed long enough, moving Nesta's things into your apartment went smoothly. A few extra bookshelves, filled with Nesta's own collection, made its way into your shared apartment, along with all of Nesta's clothes. Beyond that, she didn't have many things, as most of the furniture had come with her apartment.

The rest of the day was spent in privacy, a clumsily made stew your dinner for the day, with more time spent kissing and giggling than actually cooking.

The next morning, Nesta had woken you up with her tongue between your legs, an orgasm rolling through you before you were fully aware of what was happening. You spent the day paying her back, feasting on her as she read some of the more graphic scenes in your favorite series, loving how her hand in your hair guided you.

By the time dinner rolled around you had bathed twice, the second time only being needed after Nesta had pinned you against a wall and sucked marks onto your neck and shoulders, which had faded into pale yellow marks by the time you arrived in front of the High Lord and Lady's newest residence.

The River House.

From what you could see from the outside, the interior was cozy and slightly informal, and you could already hear roaring laughter from within as you stood hand in hand with Nesta in front of the large front doors.

"Are you ready?" Nesta asked quietly. "Because if you aren't, we can-"

"Nessie, it's going to be fine. Now, let's get inside, the sooner we do the sooner we can go home," you said, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth. "Now, do you want to knock, or should I?"

Nesta shook her head at you and smiled. "I love you," she said as she knocked on the thick wood.

"I love you too."

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 3

Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader

Previous Chapter / Masterlist

Context Warning: NSFW! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dub-con/ Non-con, Fingering, Murder, Author's Poor Attempt in Dark Fic, Monsterfucking, Mentions of Slavery

Your eyes were already open before the sun had spread its light across the horizon, staring up at the crimson blinds of your canopy, counting its folds. Normally, you would have slept in until nearly noon, but something at the back of your mind woke you up before the crack of dawn, and so, you heaved yourself up from bed.

The hem of the black, silk dress you had been put into last night, fell under your knees, and with each step you took, it gave a satisfying rustle.

You padded over the books, fingers hovering over the expensive leather binds, the titles and the authors’ names dusted with gold. You pulled out one and pondered over its cover, an engraving of a man in a cloak, holding a scythe with one hand. A Reaper.

You walked over to the chair next to the windows placed it down on its red cushion, for a later read, and headed towards another table, where a mirror was placed above and a litter of jewelry and ornaments rested in lofty boxes.

You took a seat positioned in front of the table and gazed upon the glistening gems in your sight. But you didn’t dare place a finger on them and went straight for the drawers instead. Upon the third one, you found scissors.

You began to hum and carefully closed it. You pulled open the first drawer, where the hair brushes were stashed, and took one. You parted your hair and the door swung open. Through the mirror, you watched John Mactavish make his way towards you with a grin.

“Good morning, love,” he greeted in a bright voice, too loud and clear to start a morning with. He wrapped his muscular arms around your frame and planted his lips on the bare skin of your nape, before taking a whiff of you. “Yer up quite early. A morning person?”

You remained silent for a moment, before shaking your head. “Not really.”

He took the brush from your hand and you didn't bother to utter a protest as he started to untangle your locks with careful strokes. “What made ye get up early?”

Oh, nothing. Just being almost fucked by monsters? You clenched your fists, holding yourself back from reaching towards the scissors to rip his throat open.

“Hmm, I get it.” He swiped your hair to the side. “Living with monsters and all, now.” He put down the brush and rested his chin on your shoulder, once again wrapping his arms around you. “But of all things, ya should be glad we are the ones who got ya.”

He gently placed his fingers on your chin, angling your head for more access to your neck, where he began to dust your skin kisses. Whilst his hand hovered over the strap of your dress, slowly pulling it down. Then, he stopped and clicked his tongue.

“Really, Ghost?” The incubus groaned and placed his forehead on your shoulder.

In the mirror’s reflection, you watched Simon shrug and turn away, just like he did last night before you had dinner.

“Breakfast is being served, and I'm not going to tell the servants to save some more for you,” the Wraith proclaimed.

You didn't know why he kept interrupting his brothers, but you were a bit thankful for that.

With no time and consideration to change into a different dress before breakfast, you were dragged by the incubus to their dining hall. By the time you arrived, no thanks to the winding corridors and hallways of the fortress, you just wished to sit down and sleep on the table.

The dragon and the siren were already seated across one another in a long dining table, where food had been placed. They looked over their shoulders as you sauntered in with the Wraith and Incubus, and both smiled at you.

Mactavish guided you towards the seat at the end of the table, which you knew by reading books was supposedly the seat of the highest person in a castle. But when you frowned at him in confusion, he merely nodded and forced you to sit down. Then, he took his own seat next to Kyle, and Simon next to Price.

“Are you supposed to not say anything to your husbands on this lovely morning?” Price spoke up, his chest puffing out through his deep v-neck shirt.

Your eyes went back and forth between the four of them and knitted your brows deeper. “Good Morning?” you offered them, unsure of what the dragon wanted, but that was what people would usually say to other people at this early hour.

“You speak as though that wasn't a custom to everyone,” he huffed, angling his head to the side.

“Because I've got no one to say that greeting to,” you muttered and lowered your gaze, eyeing the perfectly grilled meat in front of you. You gulped.

“You have us now,” Kyle claimed in a silvery voice.

You snapped your head in his way, captured by his words. To someone who had been deprived of other people's presence and touch, a siren who was as alluring as his voice was dangerous.

But he . . . spoke of the truth. Even the incubus did.

A shelter above your head to shield you from what was to come, a lovely room where you can sleep instead of an old mattress infested of insects, and more than sufficient amount of meal to fill your stomach.

Other females would kill to be in your position.

Have you truly been lucky to be in their arms?

No.

No, it was the Siren’s song working through your mind again.

Do not fall for it.

Do not drown in it.

“While we're at it,” Price’s deep voice burned through the veil of thoughts unrolling in your head, and you met his eyes, currently in the shade of blue. “Don't you have another thing to do for your husbands after saying good morning?”

Once again, you went into a spiral of thoughts, your mind going through the books and stories of women you have read throughout your life. But all of it was the tales of their suffering.

Was this lizard mocking you even after knowing you didn't know shit about having partners?

You stared at him for a good minute till your gaze drifted down to his lips, and he smirked his sharp fang flashing.

Why was this guy so hold-up with fcking old traditions of humans that had been under the land a long time ago?

You fought back the grimace threatening to appear on your face and slowly rose from your seat. You walked over him as his eyes trailed over your body, before settling back to your face.

You reached to his face, hand trembling as you leaned down. You lowered your lashes and placed a kiss on his lips, at the same time you felt his hand circling your waist.

“Gracing us with a gorgeous view, aren't we?” He questioned when you pulled away and his eyes fell on your nipples firm under the thin silk dress.

“Kyle dressed me up on this,” you said and removed your hand from his face, but he was quick to grab your wrist. He placed it over his mouth, dusting your palm with kisses.

“Can't blame myself for having good fashion.” The Siren shrugged. “That said, where's my kiss?”

Price let you go as if permitting you to go. You shot him a glance and left his side, skipping over to Kyle. Repeating the same actions as you did for the dragon, you left him with a smile when you went to the incubus by his side, who seemed to be more eager than the other two.

Mactavish pushed himself closer to you kissing as soon as your skins met, but soon pulled away. Then your eyes met the Wraith’s.

Simon, a monster of a few words, and seemingly the least interested in you.

“Well, I'm waiting,” he said, his eyes narrowing. Under his mask, you knew he was smiling.

Maybe, he was as needy as his brothers, but he just didn't show it. Nevertheless, as you came closer to him, your heart thumped, fearing what he would look like under his mask.

He reached out a hand to you, which you took hesitantly, and with your other hand, you reached up to his face but hovered over the fabric.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he ordered, and with a finger, you pulled it down.

You blink at his features. It was perfectly normal. Good-looking, as much as you hated to admit it, like every single one of them There were a few signs of scars but not a spot of rotting on his face, despite being a wraith.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you planted your lips on him, stopping him from uttering a word.

He was a high-ranked wraith, that was the only answer to his perfect body.

You later learned, during their not-so-late self-introductions over breakfast that he was a Duke, the incubus and the siren were nobles, and their acting leader was the sovereign of dragons.

The crown felt heavy and yet, at the same time, it felt like nothing but a feather on your head. You were not suited to be a Queen, a Duchess, or any sort of nobility. A slave were meant to be underneath their feet, not someone who would sit on the throne.

You removed the ornament adorning your head and placed it down on the table, meeting Jonathan's eyes on the mirror's reflection.

His eyes flashed gold, his round pupils turning thin and his grip on your shoulders tightening. “Why'd you remove it?”

“Get yourself a Queen, not a slave,” you imposed, watching his brows knit, “Have some . . .” you trailed off as his hands went down to your breast and waist. “Have some dignity,” you finished.

“You are my woman.” He kissed your shoulder, bare from the off-shoulder dress you had changed into, but it was also dangerously low on the chest, giving him access to easily strip it off you.

He pulled the neckline down under your breasts as he sucked on your neck, his fangs grazing your skin, and pinched your nipple. “My wife.”

You gripped his arm, trying to pull it away from you, but he only strengthened his hold on you, eliciting a cry of pain from you. “I just got dressed—”

“And who gave you those dresses, hm?” He twisted the sensitive bud and you clawed on his arm, wincing at the discomfort.

“I did not ask for it!” You shouted at him and he grabbed your jaw, making you face your reflection. Your visage flashed red at your sight and on your neck, you could see his eyes changing back to gold.

“Really?” He swiped the boxes of jewelry and the crown off the table, and flipped you over, heaving you onto the surface. He forced your legs open wide and leaned down.

“Jonathan,” you begged just as he kissed your folds through the thin fabric of your undergarment. You bit back a moan when he ran his tongue over. “S-stop.”

Yet, he continued, ripping your panties off with his fangs.

“I said, stop!” You pulled on his hair, making him stop and look up at you through his lashes. You flinched at his gaze that seemed to have imprisoned the purgatory, ready to unleash its flame to burn you alive. You pulled your hand back, but he was quick to catch it.

He placed a kiss on your knuckles and his horns sprouted from his forehead. “You deserve only the best, my Queen.”

Price had you holding onto one of his horns. He slurped at your cunt with thirst as he gripped your thighs, his claws digging into your skin through every lap. His beard was drenched, soaked in the flavor of your slick, and each time his nose hit your clit, he would feel you flinch. His breath as he chuckled fanned your sex, now diving to the sensitive bud, his tongue dragging it into circles.

It was hard to breathe from the stimulation, your body felt like it was set on fire as Price continued his overwhelming abuse. “Stop, please, please,” you cried, feeling the sting of his claws on your trembling thighs.

“You're dripping wet and you want me to stop?” A laugh once again escaped his lips. He removed his grip on your thigh only to place his fingers onto your drenched folds.

Your breath hitched and you grabbed his wrist, shaking your head. “Not the claws.”

“Why not?” He raised a brow.

“It—it will hurt,” you told him in a low voice and gulped when he didn't utter an answer. “Please, Jonathan.”

“Fine,” he scoffed, finding himself frowning at the sound of his name from your mouth, and felt his cock twitch under his pants, already painfully hard.

His claws retracted in a blink and his fingers quickly traced up to the hood of your clit and once again, circled the nub. This time, as compensation, you hold onto his muscled shoulder, and as though he understood it as permission, his fingers moved in further and dipped into your flittering hole without warning.

He picked up the rhythm and before you could clamp your hand over your mouth to hold back the moan, he wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

Your moan rose, became more hectic, and he drank them all as he worked on your clit with his thumb.

The noises that echoed around the room were pure filth, and you hated every single second of it. But you couldn't deny the pleasure he was giving you. So, you wrapped your arms around his neck, closed your eyes, and bucked your hips on his hands.

Jonathan smiled at the kiss.

Women were easy to get, was what he might be thinking, and that was the reaction you wanted.

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