#but anyways this is a long winded way of me saying i've been looking through the blog

[jace-writes-about-things]

A Conjured Bed

Alexa play Hot In Here! Yes, we finally have some smut! Bare with me please because this is the first piece of smut that I have written in a LONG time, I've tried to do this man justice but please if you feel like I haven't tell me! Pointers are always accepted, anyways please accept horny Gale <3

After stumbling across Gale’s apparent mentor, Elminster who had not only forced his way into camp but had come baring a mission from Mystra, a mission that she demanded Gale to basically kill himself to destroy the Absolute, needless to say Tav was seething with rage which considering Halsin had informed their party that he needed assistance protecting a portal from attacking forces so that he could retrieve Thaniel, Tav was more than happy to cut down some enemies in the name of blowing off some steam. Meant at least she would lodge her longsword in the heads of some bad guys instead of misplacing her weapon in the next innocent that annoyed her, or worse one of her campmates.

After a long battle of seemingly endless shadow monsters and undead being thrown at the party left, right and centre Halsin emerged from his barely standing portal clutching a small child in his arms, this must have been Thaniel the poor child looked exhausted, Tav quickly urged Halsin back to camp before taking a moment to assess the damage everyone had sustained during the rather strenuous fight. Glancing sideways she noticed a hungry look in Gale’s eyes pointed directly at her, the stares meaning going directly over Tav’s head she approached Gale with concern, “Gale? Are you all right do you need an artifact? Has Elminster’s magic on you failed?” Confusing his hunger for her with his hunger for magical items Gale seemed to redden in colour at the misinterpretation, “No, it’s just, it’s quite thrilling, to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially being at your side.” He seemed to pause, considering his next words carefully, “I once read a book that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger has on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.”

“Have you ever read anything on that subject?” Tav couldn’t believe what she was hearing, the big bad barbarian reduced to, silence, stunned with what he was propositioning her with in front of everyone no less… “You’re attracted to me… in a place like this?” She wanted to flirt back but given their audience she was hesitant, “I can’t imagine anywhere that would turn my heart away from you, cursed or otherwise. You’d always be as beautiful, and as impressive.”

“Perhaps it’s just the thrill of our near-undead experience talking. But standing at your side through such darkness and disrepair. It only makes me want you more.” Tav was ready to jump his bones right there and then, again given if they hadn’t had an audience, she would have let him take her right there and then below the Last Light Inn safe haven, but her hooded eyes must have given her dirty intentions away as Gale simply smirked and shut down every thought racing through her mind.

“Unfortunately, this is neither the time nor place to indulge such feelings. So, we must be patient and push all such thoughts aside. For now.” With a wink and a smirk, he set off to gather any useful supplies from the bodies the party had surrounded themselves in, the wind knocked out of Tav’s lungs as she stood in disbelief, this wizard had stood and confessed the dirty things he wished to do to her and just walked off like she wasn’t standing there dumbfounded with wet panties, a pitied pat on her back from Karlach and a “No luck soldier” thrown her way brought her crashing back to reality, shaking off the daze he had thrown her into Tav quickly gathered herself and assisted the party in ransacking bodies for valuables.

Only after they had assisted Shadowheart in abandoning Shar and freeing the Nightsong did anything from that night of battle come to fruition. Returning to camp after freeing the Nightsong Tav found a mirror image of Gale standing in his tent where the real Gale should have been, given instructions by the rather goofy mirror image was she transported to a clearing in some woods and there in front of her he sat, staring up to the stars on his blanket he had spread out for the both of them to rest on. All the thoughts of that night came rushing back to Tav in an instant her body and mind remembering all the things she wanted to do to that man that night as he had stood dangling the prospect of a night of passion in front of her face. Turning round to look at who had joined him his smile set her core ablaze. She knew he wished to speak to her of his given mission from Mystra but all she simply wanted to do was spend a night under the stars with this man, this man who ignited such passion within her.

“I love this time of night.” Came his simple greeting as she allowed herself to sink to the floor beside him, “There’s almost a reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness when you’d almost believe the dawn will never break. The cradle of eternity.” Tav listened to the man’s poetry as he shifted his hand towards the sky, as if he himself was commanding the very stars himself she found herself staring at the beauty above her, unaware of Gale’s loving gaze, “The timelessness of lovers. The most beautiful of fantasies.” She was lost in his words, listening to this man seduce her with utter poetry made her melt, desperate to be consumed with him. As they spoke of his mission from Mystra, Tav noticed Gale becoming consumed by his need to flaunt his magic talents offering a night amongst the stars with her, but Tav was not swayed, she simply wanted this man in the most carnal, human way possible.

Standing, Tav dragged him to his feet willing to show her commitment to the moral man that the hunger inside her from that night had reignited full force, gazing at him with hooded eyes she slowly slunk to her knee’s gentle touches down his legs on her way down. Gazing up at him revealed just how touch starved Gale was, his fists clenched at his sides as if holding himself back from the true desire he craved, with a smile she gave him her full permission, “Don’t be afraid Gale, I won’t break, use me as you please.” With a swift hand grabbing her hair to force her back to her feet and his lips crashing into hers in a desperate kiss she paced backwards at his command, finding the backs of her legs hitting a soft bed.

Allowing herself to fall backwards out of his grasp, she fell backwards onto a rather soft, cushioned bed, gazing up at him taking in his dishevelled appearance, the usual put together wizard was panting, looking down at her with raw desire in his eyes that tried to convey every single way he wanted to take her, she definitely wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

Kneeling between her legs, his hands slowly trailing their way up to the waistband of her sleep clothes, looking to her with a plea, begging to let him remove the barrier and let him have his way with her. Her own hands shifting down to help him shimmy her trousers and underclothes down with them, his soft hands returning to her hips to caress her hips, “You are more beautiful than any skyline my hands could ever conjure.” Readying herself to reply to his compliments Tav was swiftly cut off with a kiss to her mound, her hips reaching up to meet him but a surprisingly strong arm clamping over her hips to prevent their movement fixed her to the bed below. His comments of a practised tongue came flashing back to her mind as he carefully took her clit into his mouth, laving it with all the attention she desired moaning into the night as her hands found their way into his hair threatening to rip the locks from his hair if he even dared thinking of stopping, her hips fought against him as he brought her closer and closer to her peak, and just before she got there he pressed a soft kiss to her mound and pulled away as much as her tight grip would allow him to.

“I’m sorry love, I know you don’t want me to stop but the only place you’ll be coming tonight is around my cock.” He was almost staring into her soul as he looked up, his beard drenched in her juices and all she wanted in that moment was to kiss him, let her taste herself on his lips.

Making his way up her body, gentle kisses and touches as he went, feeling his way along her hips, up her sides, to her breasts, committing her entire body to his memory before arriving at her lips, teasing him tongue at her entrance allowing her the opportunity to pull away if she found this uncomfortable in any way, but his doubts were quickly squashed with her lips connecting with his, drinking in her taste on his lips allowing herself to taste herself on his tongue. “Please Gale.” She pulled away, begging for the release she craved, release only he could give her.

Giving her a soft parting peck he knelt above her, removing his own clothing making a bit of a show of it with each piece of removed clothing, letting her hands roam his body to discover all parts of him, everything. Leaning back down he gently kissed her body before guiding himself to her entrance, holding eye contact as he gently slid in, allowing himself to moan out as he bottomed out, stilling inside of her finally slipping inside of her felt like absolute heaven and it took all of his willpower to not cum there and then. “You feel absolutely divine my love, you feel absolutely amazing.” He moaned into her mouth, kissing her softly she felt like putty in his hands, “Gale please I need you to move.” The words were gasped out as he began thrusting, like he had knocked the wind out her lungs with the force, her once words were reduced to moans and gasps, grasping onto his shoulders clawing at skin at the overwhelming pleasure.

Although she had had a number of fantasies and dreams about this moment, but nothing she had dreamed or fantasised could compare to being here with Gale, letting herself be consumed with the overwhelming feeling of Gale. He was all encompassing, he was everywhere all at once, in front of her, surrounding her, inside her, grasping at his shoulders trying to take him in deeper to become one with him, “I’m not going to last much longer love.” Gale gasped out as his hand reached down to circle her clit, suddenly it was stars surrounding her, not so dissimilar to the stars he had conjured for her, stars and then blinding white with gasp Tav let go, let herself be all consumed.

Back to reality, a sweaty and sated Gale lay atop her holding him closer as she ran her hands along his spine, helping to bring the man down from his high. Gentle breathing and soft kisses to her chest, she gazed down at him as he looked up at her with nothing but love in his eyes, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.” His hand reaching up to stroke her face, she could do nothing but smile at this man and his genuine love for her, such as soft man that she felt nothing but the utmost love for.

“Hope you know, we aren’t done just yet.” His smirk returned as he slid himself down, ready to continue their escapades into the wee hours of the morning, Tav definitely was not getting any sleep tonight.

Cross Posted on Ao3 - jacethed00d

#gale x reader #gale x tav #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #smut #gale smut #bg3 tav #tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fem reader #gale x female tav #gale x female reader #fem tav

[pinkfey]

.

#i've been like. doing exposure therapy for my religious trauma. #there's a blog on here called **-horror-stories #and i blocked them when i first came across them because in my family's cult you've been instructed since birth to immediately cut off #anyone who slanders the religion ESPECIALLY online. and even though i'm not indoctrinated the trauma of that is still there #like i've posted before abt how seeing the most miniscule of things online about the cult gives me massive anxiety attacks #not even just informative posts but joking posts as well. posts mentioning it in passing #to the point i can't say the name of it online or in person without feeling queasy #and i constantly mistake words with J and W in them for the name of the cult just like as i scroll #and i instantly block people with urls that are a play-on-words of the cult's name #but anyways this is a long winded way of me saying i've been looking through the blog #it's all stuff i already know of course it's just #me sitting with it #the horrible horrible feeling #i don't know if it's working though because i'm moments away from crying BUT #i want to get to the point other ex-** ppl online have. where they're so flippant about it all #but i have a feeling that my situation is more severe than others' have been #at least the ones who got out easily #anyways.txt #cult ment. #delete later

[specshroom]

★ - Some assistance

You and your boyfriend are lounging on the couch in the living room, winding down after a long day. He's drinking his evening tea and reading while you unsuccessfully distract yourself by flicking through channels on the TV. You decide to just come out and ask what you've been meaning to ask for awhile now.

"Kento? Do you think you could make me squirt?"

This poor man chokes on his tea and almost messes it on his home shirt. He just looks at you with a face that says "Why would you ask me something like that so suddenly?" You just look at him deadpan waiting for his response. He clears his throat and composes himself, realising it was a somewhat serious question and his girlfriend (soon to be fiancé, hopefully) wasn't just playing some dumb joke. 

"Well... I'm sure I could try, Y/n. But why bring that up so out of the blue, if you mind me asking."

He responds, as polite as always. He makes you feel so safe in his presence it's almost supernatural.

"Uh... I've just been thinking about it for awhile, I guess." He places his mug on the coffee table, the one that says "Live, Laugh, Love" in exaggerated curly font, courtesy of Gojo. He doesn't know why you insist on making his tea in that mug but he drinks it every time anyway. He brings your legs into his lap and lightly massages them silently asking you to continue. 

"I'm just curious to see if I can is all. Whenever I've tried to do it myself, I always just get too sensitive and stop, but... If I had someone else do it, I think I might actually be able to."

You explain this to him almost like a scientist explains their hypothesis, like you've thought about it for awhile. He rubs under your shins and thinks for a bit. he would very much like to be the one to make you squirt and he's confident in his abilities but he also doesn't want you to be upset if you end up not being able to do it.

"I also just think it would be really hot if you made me squirt." 

That breaks him out of his thoughts with a disbelieving huff. 

"The problem is that when I get sensitive I'm gonna be yelling for you to stop out of second nature. But you can't stop Kento, you have to keep going until I either squirt or say the safe word. Can you do that, Baby?" Nanami looks up at your serious face, you really have thought about this quite a bit. He nods his head, sealing the deal. You just stare at eachother for a moment longer, the TV still going in the back. You break out in a smile, unable to keep the semi-serious atmosphere. 

"Can- can we do it now?" You ask the man on the opposite end of the couch while you try and stifle a giggle. 

Nanami smiles and pulls you closer to him by your legs. You yelp as you get yanked into his lap where he attacks your neck with kisses. He hoists you up and starts walking to the bedroom. Once he sets you onto your shared bed, you start removing your shirt and shorts while he rummages in the cupboard for a towel that he puts down on the bed before undressing himself.

You're almost shaking with excitement and anticipation. Nanami sits against the headboard in nothing but his boxers, placing the towel on the bed in front of him. He watches as you turn to him with that sultry look in your eyes. You crawl your way up the bed on all fours until you're right between his muscular thighs. Your hands glide up his thighs and waist, you kiss him with need and he reciprocates. You break the connection to feel yourself up infront of him and sensually take off your bra. You present yourself to him and kiss him again before turning around and pressing your back to his chest. 

His hands go to your waist to gently squeeze and rub there. You spare no flare when taking off your panties and you adjust yourself so that both your legs are wide open, slightly bent and his stronger ones are over yours, forcing them to stay open.

"Put your legs like this so that it stops me from closing mine when it gets too sensitive." 

You say as you help him into the position you want. Nanami chuckles and bends down to say lowly into your ear.

"You really have thought this whole thing through, huh?" 

You flush and nod your head as his hand moves down your body to where you want him the most. His touch is gentle at first, lightly stroking down your clit and lips, gathering wetness with his fingers. He starts to work his finger into you and gently rubs your clit with the other hand, coaxing you to melt into his touch. You start moaning and groaning with the pleasure your wonderful boyfriend is giving you. 

With both his hands working on your pussy so diligently, it's no wonder your first orgasm washes over you pretty quickly. Nanami keeps going at the same steady pace after you cum and it's the first out of the ordinary occurrence in this session. You usually would get a grace period after you cum to come down from the high but you and Nanami have a goal. The fact that you get no chance to come down at all is fucking with your brain and the fucked out feeling is just multiplying every second his strong hands play with your pussy. 

Nanami lays back a bit, forcing you to also lay back and expose yourself a bit more as you begin to writhe and squirm. One hand is still diligently circling your clit as he works his two middle fingers into you, slamming into that perfect spot inside you over and over and over again. You get louder and more frantic as the second orgasm hits you. Your head falls back on Nanamis chest as you groan his name. 

"Uuuuh Fuck! Feels so good Kento, soo good, so good, s' good, s' good, s' gud." You mumble and moan to him. Your second orgasm hits you full force and the pleasure doesn't stop or slow down, in fact it only gets more intense. He doesn't even slow down despite you're kicking legs and bucking hips.

Nanami eventually brings you to a third orgasm, now things really start to feel sensitive and your whines and cries of overstimulation get louder but the man doesn't tire. He keeps going, mumbling things like "Cmon, cmon Love." And "You can do it Darling". 

Before you know it the fourth wave hits you like a train, this is where you get frantically desperate as you realize he isnt even slowing down. You're now actively trying to get out of his iron hold, trying to close your legs just a little but his strong thighs keep you open for him. You're squirming and struggling and crying out.

"Wait wait wait wait!".

Your pussy is so raw and sensitive, you almost beg him to slow down but the man is going even stronger now. He's more precise with his movements, touching all the right spots with just the right amount of force to make you weep. 

"Wait Ken! It's sensitive, stoooop stopstopstop!" You hands go to his to try and make him slow down a little but Nanami isn't having any of that. You set out a goal for yourself and clear rules. He is going to make sure you reach your goals like the good partner he is.

He cages your arms against your chest with one arm hugged around you while the other still goes at your clit, rubbing frantic but deliberate circles into the pink flesh with his callous palm. The wet slick sounds of your pussy being bullied by the man you love are drowned out by the sounds coming from your mouth.

You're screaming now, legs shaking and kicking, not nearly strong enough to budge against Nanami's thick thighs forcing them wide open. Your entire body begins convulsing and spasming, you swear you feel like you're going to pee but you don't even have the mind to be concerned about that. You can only scream an intelligible jumble of pleas at this point as your nails dig into his arm. 

"Cmon Honey, just one more f'me, your doing so well."

The praise makes you go even dumber as you're quickly brought to the end of your rope. The last strand snaps and a tidel wave of violent hot pleasure comes crashing down on your entire being. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your screams turn to silent hiccups and overwhelmed chokes.

Your body convulses violently and your back arches off Nanamis chest as he holds you tightly to his chest. It's by far the most intense orgasm of your life and you don't even register the jet of clear liquid shooting out from you untill you hear Nanamis loud groan at the sight.

"There you go, that's my girl."

You're brought back to earth and let out a long groan as Nanami presses up on the hood of your clit to force more squirt out of you, the feeling is even more euphoric than you thought it could ever be. 

Nanami pats your pussy, making sure he gets every last drop out as your wetness trickles down your pussy and ass onto the towel Nanami set down, which was definitely not enough to keep the bed dry. You drop your body completely limp onto Nanamis chest as you both catch your breath.

Nanami releases your arms and your hand immediately goes to cup your swollen, abused pussy with a whine. Nanami chuckles and runs his hands down your back and around your waist, soothing you, bringing you down gently while mumbling little praises. You curl up on top of him and dig your face into his neck with another small whine. 

"Love you s'much." You mumble into his hot skin. He chuckles at you once again. 

"I love you too, Baby."

-★

#i thaught this was such a hot idea #Nanami isnt usually my type so i hope i did him justice? #nanami kento #first Nanami post LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you

[elliezato]

❀˙⋆Summer With You⋆˙❀

Pairing: Ellie x Reader

-Modern au!

Summary: You and your friends decide to rent out a cabin on the beach over the summer. This was your last summer before leaving for college, so you wanted to make it memorable. This summer was going to be perfect. You spent your days in the water, taking In the moments in the sun with your friends.

It didn't take long for you to realize your feelings for your best friend Ellie.

The way her wet hair drips down her shoulders as she gets out of the water. The way her fingers strum the guitar as you gather around the fire. The way the stars light her eyes during late night swims. The way her smile grows when she’s with her girlfriend… It's all too much.

Will these feelings ruin your friendship and the whole summer? What will happen when it's time to leave Ellie behind for college?

Word Count: 4.4k

⋆˚✿˖°

a/n: Im back!! I've been in the summer mood recently and I just need to be laying out by the lake rn. I recently read "SYNS" by carmellie and was inspired to make this! I've really been wanting to write a slow burn, angst fic so I hope this turns out good.

I will probably split this story into a few parts depending on how long I want this to be.

This will be my first real fic because honestly I've only written smut in the past and I'm not sure if I like writing stuff like that. I might add a little bit of it every now and then in my stories but it's not something I want to continue to write.

Anyway, I'm super exited for this story! Please give me ideas for future chapters! I love to hear feedback on how to improve or what you guys like.

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Packing your bag was the only thing you weren't looking forward to doing on this trip. You always over packed and struggled to fit everything in your bags. Clothes and shoes were thrown all over your room as you pick out what you should pack. This trip is going to be 2 months long so you need enough clothes to last through the summer but not too much that your car will be over flowing.

"Eww, do not bring that" Dina says in disgust as you hold up an old one piece bathing suit from freshmen year.

You knew she was right, but you didn't have many options when It came to bathing suits. You packed it anyway, along with some other suits from the previous summer. The sun shined through your window, lighting up the room. It was almost noon and you needed to leave soon. The drive to the cabin would take the majority of the day so there wasn't much time to waste.

Dina helped you load your car with your bags. There wasn't a lot of room in the trunk but you two made it work. You slam the truck shut, making sure it wouldn't pop open from all the clothes. Your parents hug you goodbye in your drive way as you and Dina get ready to leave.

You get into your car and put the top of your convertible down. The breeze felt nice in your hair as you drove off. Music plays as you sing your heart out. This was going to be a good trip, you could feel it. Dina pulls out her digital camera and snaps a pic of you driving as your hair blows in the wind. Your sun glasses reflect the trees lining the road.

It's been a long time since you've been on a nice trip. Let alone with all your friends. Nerves start to build as you get closer to the cabin. Ellie and Jesse were supposed to meet you there. Recently it's been awkward with Ellie. Usually you two could talk for hours and spend every second together but things have been different.

⋆˚✿˖°

You noticed this sudden shift in your friendship during one of your sleepovers a few months ago. Ellie was sitting on the floor of your bedroom while you were getting ready for bed. She starts going on a rant about this girl she's been thinking about asking out. You don't know what happened but in that moment you felt this strange rage fill in your heart.

Ellie has always been open about girls she finds attractive but she's never made any moves. The thought of your best friend dating another girl upset you for some reason. You've never felt this before and decided to just let it go.

"She so pretty y/n! Like I really think I'm going to make my move" Ellie scrolls on her phone as she talks to you.

You look into the mirror while washing the rest of the soap off your face. "Go for it Els, you could probably pull anyone"

"Yeah, I know" Ellie says sarcastically, now putting down her phone.

She walks over to you and meets your gaze in the reflection on the bathroom mirror. Your eyes revert down to the counter. For some reason you felt your body tremble as she got closer. You couldn't understand why you were acting like this. You've known Ellie your whole life and never saw her as anything other than your best friend.

She picks up her toothbrush and you leave the bathroom. You lay in bed waiting for Ellie to finish in the bathroom. She noticed the sudden change in your demeanor. After a few minutes your friend turns off the lights and lays nexts to you in bed.

"You ok?" Ellie turns to look at you. Her hand rubs up and down your arm.

"Yeah, Im just tired" You lied. You were wide awake but the thoughts of Ellie swarmed your mind.

Things have been like this ever since then. Every time you guys hung out, you two always end up in awkward situations. You hated the fact that things felt like this. You almost convinced yourself that maybe your friendship isn't as strong and it use to be. Maybe you two are drifing apart. You prayed that this wasn't the case but it was the only logical way to explain the distance between you two.

⋆˚✿˖°

"Can we pull over? I have to pee and Im starving" Dina throws her head back into the seat.

"Yeah, I need to get gas anyway" You pull into a gas station and Dina runs in as you follow shortly behind her.

The area was very unfamiliar. There wasn't many people around. You walk inside the convince store and pick out a few snacks and your friend finishes up in the bathroom. You look over to pick out what you want and see a package of watermelon sour patch kids. These were Ellie's favorite. You guys use to walk to the gas station when you were younger and eat these on the curb in the summer heat.

You pick up two bags, one for yourself and one to give Ellie when you see her later tonight. Dina grabs her snacks and you pay. You quickly fill up your tank and get back onto the road. You put the top of your conferable back up now that it's getting darker and the air is cooling down.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Dina slept as you listed to music softly. Superache by Conan filled the car as your mind thought about Ellie. She was all you could think about for the rest of the drive. You were excited to see her, hoping she felt the same.

A few hours later you pull into the driveway of the cabin. You looked at the familiar car already in front of you.

"It looks like they're already here" You nudge Dina, trying to wake her.

You text the group chat, letting your friends know you arrived. As you get out of the car to help unload all your bags you hear your name being called out from a small distance. You look up and see Ellie and Jesse walking towards you to greet you and help with the bags.

"Y/N!! You guys took long enough." Ellie pulls you into a tight hug and then turns to Dina to welcome her.

Your eyes were glued to Ellie. She was dressed in a pair of jorts that ended a few inches above her knees. Her shirt displayed the album cover of her favorite band she took you to see last semester. She wore her old converse that probably need to be replaced sometime soon.

You guys walk into the cabin with all the bags. It was beautiful. Trees surround the land and fireflies lit up every now and then around the house. You could see a glimpse of the ocean from the front. You walk into the cabin and place your bags onto the floor.

"You guys have to see the view!" Ellie grabs your wrist to bring you to the backyard.

Dina and Jesse followed as Ellie opened the backdoor for everyone. As she opened the door you were met with the view of the beach in the distance. Lanterns lit the path leading down to a fire pit. Lights were strung across the yard, lighting up every inch. You closed your eyes and listened to the waves crashing in the distance and the bugs humming from the trees.

"Holy shit. This is insane!" Your eyes light up thinking about all the memories that are about to be made here.

"Lets go down to the beach!" Jesse says as he's already sprinting down to the sand.

"I'll be there in a minute, Im going to change into a bathing suit." You begin to walk back inside until you feel a tug on your arm.

"Come onnnn!" Ellie drags you down to the beach with everyone else.

There wasn't anyone on the beach. It was more of a reserved area for residents only. You kick off your shoes as you stumble down to the water. You watch as your friends run into the waves laughing and taking in the moment. Ellie looks over at you from the water smiling, motioning you to come in. You roll your eyes and walk into the water. It was oddly warm. You cringe at the fact you're still dressed in your clothes from the drive here.

You suddenly gasp as you feel yourself getting pushed into the water. "Hey!" You sit as waves crash over you.

Ellie looks down at you and laughs but it doesn't last long before Jesse pushes her in. "What the fuck!"

You're now laughing at the sight of her drenched in the water. She grabs your hand and helps you up as you two are now dripping wet. You look up and notice how bright the stars are here. Back home you can barely see the stars. The city isn't the best place for star gazing. You can feel your body start to shiver.

The wet cloths that cling to your body get colder by each second. Ellie notices and pulls you close. "Lets go back up and change"

You take your bag of clothes and bring it it your room. Your eyes widen when you realize the room you were sharing with Ellie only has one bed. You don't understand why you're in shock. You've shared a bed with Ellie many times in your life but for some reason you felt weird about it.

"Nice right?" She says as she walks past you into the room.

The room was nice. It was open and had big windows looking out to the ocean. You place your bags down next to the bed and pull out a pair of pjs. You feel her eyes on you as you walk to the bathroom to shower and change for the night.

You take your time getting unready. Turing on the shower as you slip out of your wet clothes. The water is hot and feels nice against your shivering skin. Fingers run through your scalp as you wash out the salty water, tasting it on your lips as it washes over your face.

You dry off your body and put on fresh clothes. You throw your wet hair up into a towel as you wash your face. As you exit the bathroom you notice Ellie is no longer in the room. You walk downstairs to the kitchen to see all your friends sitting at the island laughing.

"Were ordered pizza, I hope that's fine" Dina says smiling, then returning to her conversation

"Im literally starving, I could fuck up some pizza right now" You say as you sit and join them at the island.

"I think Cat is going to join us for a week. She's supposed to be here next Saturday" Ellie looks at you waiting for a reaction.

You immediately feel a frown forming on your face. You hated Cat. You hated how she practically stole Ellie from you, and now she's coming on your trip!? Ever since Ellie made her move on Cat they've been inseparable. She never referred to Cat as her girlfriend but you knew it was coming. The way Ellie looks at her. It hurts. You figured it was just because she doesn't spend all her time with you anymore. Maybe you're just jealous that Ellie's time is being taken up by someone else.

You were looking forward to spending time with Ellie on this trip and now she's inventing Cat? You felt your heart drop at the thought of Ellie spending the next week with her.

"That's exciting" You say as you force a smile but it's clear your upset.

Suddenly there's a knock at the door. "That's probably the pizza" Jesse gets up and walks to the front door.

You make your way over to the living room with a box of pizza in your hands. You place the box down on the coffee table next to the other boxes. Ellie hands you a glass of water as she takes a seat next to you on the couch.

"What movie are we watching?" You feel Ellie's body shift next to you as she grabs the remote to scroll through the options.

"Want to rewatch Bottoms? I don't think Dina or Jesse have seen it yet."

"YES!" She searches up the movie and hits rent without any hesitation.

⋆˚✿˖°

The night was nice. You rested your head on Ellies shoulder as you watch the movie. The boxes of pizza are practically empty except for the left over crust from Ellie that she refuses to eat. The movie was almost over and you could feel your eyes getting tired. You've already seen this move a million times so you decided to go ahead and go to bed.

"Where are you going" Ellie looks up at you as you remove yourself from her arms.

"Im going to head up to bed. Im tired from driving all day. I'll see you guys in the morning" You smile and say goodnight to Jesse and Dina.

"Okay, goodnight! I'll be up there right when the movie ends." She gives you a soft smile in return.

The bed was comfortable. It was easy to get settled in as you wait for Ellie's presence. Your eyes close as you wait for her. You could feel yourself drifting off until you hear the sound of the door opening. Your body turns towards the door and you open your eyes to see Ellie walking into the room.

"Sorry, did I wake you up" She quietly closes the door.

"No, I was still up." You watch as she pulls out her toothbrush from her bag and walks to the bathroom.

She eventually joins you in bed. Her body was close. You could feel her settling into the mattress. The widow was slightly open, allowing the sound of the waves crashing to fill the room. The fan kept the room at a cool temperature as you pull the covers higher up your body.

"Do you like Cat" Ellie breaks the silence and turns to face you in the bed waiting for a response.

Her face was close. You could feel her gentle breath on your cheeks as she waited for you to answer. You knew you couldn't tell her the truth. She's your best friend. There's no reason for you dislike Cat, but you did, but you couldn't tell her that.

"Yeah. Why?" Your response was cold and blunt.

"You just always change the subject when I bring her up or you just seem to always get upset." She frowns. "I just really want you to like her because I think I'm going to make things official with her."

You almost was to cry when you hear those words come out of her mouth. Your heart aches. You knew this was coming but you prayed it wouldn't happen. You wished things would fall through between them. You hated that you felt this way. You wanted Ellie to be happy. You really did but you've been letting your emotions get in the way.

"Do whatever you want Ellie" You turn to face the opposite way. You didn't mean for your response to come out as harsh as it did, but it was too late.

"This is exactly what I was talking about. I don't understand why you're being like this" Her voice is harsh. "Ever since I told you about Cat you've been so distant. I don't know why you're being like this but clearly you need space."

You feel her get up from the bed. "Where are you going?" You sit up and look at her.

"Giving you space. You obviously are upset with me and I don't know why." She gets up and leaves the room.

You lay back down on your back as the tears that formed in your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks. Her words stung but she was right. You feel bad for being so short with Ellie, she doesn't deserve it. Your whole life you and Ellie have been so close. You told each other everything. The reason your friendship is changing was because of you.

After tossing and turning in the empty bed for a while you look over at your bag and see the candy you bought for Ellie but forgot to give her. You decide to get up and find her, still feeling bad about earlier. The room was dark and hard to navigate but you found the door. You walk downstairs to see Ellie laying on the couch. She's wrapped up in a small blanket, sleeping softly. You sit on the edge of the couch and look at her with a feeling of guilt settling in your stomach.

"y/n?" She slowly opens her eyes and looks at you.

"Im sorry Els." You look at her with damp eyes. "Im sorry I've been so distant and I'm sorry for being rude." You wipe your tears trying to gain composer.

Ellie sits up and wraps her arms around you, bringing you close to her body. She wipes your tears as she holds you. "Stop crying. Im not mad at you, Im just confused."

"I know and Im sorry" You rest your head on her chest.

You eventually lay down on the couch with her. There isn't too much room but you make it work. Your bodies press against each other as you close your eyes. Her arms are wrapped around your waist, still trying to calm you down. You quickly fall asleep, feeling that your friendship is returning to what it once was.

⋆˚✿˖°

You wake up alone on the couch, hearing chatter from the kitchen. Sitting up and looking over you see your friends making breakfast. The air smells of salt and pancakes.

"Look who's finally up" Jesse says teasingly as he flips a pancake.

"You hungry?" Ellie asks as she holds up a plate of food she had already prepared for you.

You get up from the couch and sit at the table. The kitchen had huge windows that had the perfect view on the backyard and the beach. The cabin was so pretty during the day. The sunlight lit up the whole house. You look up as you see Ellie placing a plate in front of you. She sits down and joins you for breakfast.

"Do you have any plans in mind for today" She looks up at you as she takes a bite of pineapple.

"I really want to explore this area and go to the beach." You smile at her as you spread the butter on your pancakes.

You put on your bathing suit and then some shorts over as a coverup. The weather was hot but not humid. There was nice breeze outside. There were a bunch of beach bikes on the side of the cabin for guest so you and your friends decided to explore on them.

Wind blew through your hair as you rode down the dirt paths from the cabin to the nearest sidewalk. Music played through Ellie's speakers as you rode. You eventually came across a small beach town with restaurants and shops. There were people walking through with friends and family enjoying the start of summer break.

You tied your bikes to a post and decided to walk around. "This place is so cute!" You take out you phone to take some pictures.

Dina points out a small local coffee shop and starts walking towards it. You guys enter the shop and order coffees to start your morning. Ellie wasn't a huge coffee person so she got a refresher.

"Els you need to try this!" You hand her your drink waiting for her to take a sip.

"No thanks. I really don't like coffee" She pushes your drink away.

"Seriously Ellie, its so good, you have to try it" You push your cup back into her hands.

She hands you her drink so you can try it as she takes a sip of your coffee. "This is disgusting!" She cringes as the taste of coffee lingers in her mouth.

She takes her drink back and washes out the bitter taste of coffee from her mouth. The coffee wasn't even strong, it was mostly washed out with a sugary creamer. You laugh watching Ellie's reaction to the coffee and took it back from her hands.

The town was small so it didn't take long to explore it. You guys planned on trying every restaurant here over the summer. The breeze from the ocean felt nice. The air smelt of salt and coffee.

You and your friends got back onto your bikes and rode down to the beach. The weather was starting to get warmer as noon approached. You set you bike up again the beach entrance and step onto the sand. You take off your shoes and toss them into your bag and walk down to the water. Ellie follows shortly behind and sits down on the towel that Dina places on the warm sand.

You join Ellie on the towel as Dina and Jesse head towards the water. "Im sorry about last night, I was just tired. I don't even remember why I was upset." You say looking at Ellie as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Y/n, it's really ok, I'm not mad. I just want us to go back to how we use to be" She admits as she meets your gaze.

"Me too" You smile and rest your head on her shoulder as you watch your friends splashing each other in the waves.

⋆˚✿˖°

The first week was perfect. You spent your days at the beach and cooking out in the backyard of the cabin. Jesse and Ellie set up hammocks in the back, so you guys could star gaze and talk until the sun starts to rise. Things were going better than you imagined. Your relationship with Ellie was better than ever. You two did everyone together.

"Cats going to be here in a few minutes!" Ellie impatiently checks her phone waiting for Cat's arrival text.

You sit at the island finishing your breakfast. The windows were open, allowing the fresh air to calm you down. You've been dreading this since Ellie first brought up the fact that Cat was even visiting. The thought of Ellie spending all her time with Cat made you sick. You didn't want to lash out again so you kept your feelings to yourself.

A ding from Ellie's phone interrupted your conversation followed by a loud knock at the door. "She's here!" Ellie jumped from her seat and walked over to the front door.

Cat stood at the entrance with her bag. She was dressed in shorts and a tank top with an opened button down on top. You took in the image of Ellie's face lighting up as she looked Cat up and down. You watched as she pulled her into a tight hug. Ellie leaded her into the kitchen with everyone else.

"Hi guys! Thanks for letting me stay for a few days" She smiles and then looks at you.

You return the smile but its obvious you're annoyed. Cat takes the hint and turns back too Ellie. They walk upstairs so she could put up her bags.

Dina looks over at you with a frown. "You ok y/n?"

"Yeah... why?" You look at her with a confused and saddened expression.

Dina caught on to your feelings for Ellie a long time ago. You've never admitted to them because honestly you never thought of Ellie in that way. At least not until recently. It's all been so confusing.

"She's only going to be here for five days, it'll go by fast" Dina tries to reassure you but it just makes things worse.

"I know, I think we'll have fun. And Ellie's happy" You try to convince your friends you're ok, and maybe you're trying to convince yourself too.

Ellie returns downstairs with Cats hand in hers. The sight makes you want to cry but you suck in your feelings and try to avoid them. You knew these next few days would be hard. Not only did you have to watch your best friend fall in love with someone else but you had to get rid of any feelings you have for her.

You didn't even know you liked her but it makes sense now. It's all coming together. Why did you feel this way? You've known Ellie all your life. Why are you just now realizing these feelings? The way she makes you feel when her fingers are running through your hair. The way she holds you close at night. The way she immediately drops everything when you need her.

Your thoughts shatter in your mind when you see Cats lips against Ellie's. You can't help but sit and stare. Ellie never told you they were official yet. Why didn't she tell you?

Your emotions took over and you left. You didn't know where you were going but your keys were in your hand and you were already half way to you car.

"Y/n!? Where are you going?" Ellie follows you as you walk out the door. Cat standing behind. She stands at the door frame as she watches you pull out of the drive way.

The air was much needed. You drove down the roads of the beach. tears building up in your eyes. You had hopes that this drive would distract you but the only thing on your mind was Ellie. Why did you let your feelings get the best of you again. She clearly doesn't like you. She has Cat.

You find yourself sitting in a cafe looking out at the beach. The thoughts Ellie holding you floods your mind. You hate yourself for feeling like this. What would she think if she knew about how you felt? Would this ruin everything between you two? Would your friendship be over for good?

You immediately snap out of your thoughts as you look down and notice a text from Ellie.

⋆˚✿˖°

a/n: Thank you for reading!! Im already working on the next chapter. I hope my writing gets stronger as I write more because I feel like this could be more detailed:( Please, please, pleaseeee give me feedback! I love hearing others opinions! Im excited to continue this story because honestly I have no idea where the plot is going to go yet. The next chapters should be longer as they come out. Im not expecting this to be too long but let me know what you guys want for the future chapters!<3

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #wlw #sapphic #slow burn #angst #ellie williams fanfic #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams x female reader

[sweetestdesire]

A FRIEND IN NEED

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, loss of virginity, innocence kink, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Trevor Zegras x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader has an awkward question to ask Trevor Zegras.

Y/N tugged at the straps from her top and sighed. She'd spent so long thinking about this moment; she couldn't believe she was actually going through with it today. Her knuckles tapped against the door, and she took a step back. Her heart was thudding so loud the beats pounded in her ears.

While she waited for the sound of footsteps, Y/N smoothed her hands over her skirt and turned to gaze at the street behind her. Sunlight bounced off the windshield of her parked car, a dog barked in the distance, the smell of a barbecue wafted on the wind. Just a typical Sunday for most people, but not for her.

Y/N shoved her hair back from her face and told herself to keep it together. She flattened her palm against her stomach, closed her eyes and concentrated on deep breaths. With each second that ticked by, she considered the wisdom of running away and pretending this had never happened.

It was a stupid idea anyway, really stupid. Y/N opened her eyes and took a step towards the edge of the porch. She bit her lip and hesitated, the pull to disappear just as strong as the urge to stay. Her stomach dipped as the door swung open at her back.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

Y/N summoned the courage to turn and look into the eyes of Trevor. The rumpled state of his hair gave the impression he'd just climbed out of bed at two in the afternoon. His muscled arm rested on the door frame above his head. Trevor wore black boxer briefs and nothing else. No matter how long she stood here, Y/N knew she'd never get tired of looking at him.

Ignoring his question, she elbowed her way past him and stalked into the house. Y/N dropped her purse and keys onto the hall table and turned to take in the living room. Her eyes swept over the coffee table littered with empty beer cans, the couch with a pair of jeans draped over the back.

The door clicked closed behind her, and Y/N flinched at the finality of the sound. She paced the wooden floorboards and nibbled her thumbnail, then yanked her hand away when she remembered she'd given up the habit years ago.

"Y/N, stop for a minute." Trevor snagged her elbow and turned her toward him. "What's going on?"

Y/N covered her face with her hands. She massaged her forehead and took a couple of fortifying breaths. Was she really going to do this? "I have a question to ask you."

"Must be a good one. You can't even look at me."

Y/N forced her hands away and met his eyes. He'd moved over to the couch and sat on the edge with his hands dangling between his knees. His watchful eyes followed her every movement.

She huffed out a breath. "I'm just going to come out with it, okay?"

"That's usually the best way." Trevor waggled his thumb at the empty space beside him. "Do you want to take a seat? You look like you're about to pass out on me."

Y/N shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I just really need to say this." Her heart hammered, and the pressure built inside her until the idea of telling him almost became appealing. "Trevor, I'm a virgin.”

Trevor leaned back against the couch and clasped his hands behind his head. Amusement glimmered in his eyes, and a lazy smile played about his lips. "Really? With your uptight, highly-strung personality, I never would’ve guessed."

A flush warmed her cheeks as the urge to run gained strength. "I knew you'd react this way."

"Then why did you tell me?" He kept his eyes on her.

It took some effort, but Y/N managed to push her embarrassment aside and approach the coffee table. She shoved a couple of empty beer cans out of the away and perched on the edge facing him. "We've known each other a long time. I've been thinking a lot lately about-"

"Stop stalling." Trevor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He stroked her leg with his fingertips. "Out with it."

Y/N blew the hair from her eyes and glanced down at her hands. "The thing is, Trevor..."

"Yes, Y/N."

"I want you to take my virginity."

The sudden silence weighed heavily in the room. Y/N held her breath and trained her attention on her fingernails. Now it was out there, there was no taking it back. Ever. She waited for him to laugh, to ridicule her, but nothing happened.

"You're not saying anything." She glanced up and saw his guarded expression. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Jesus, I'm in shock." Trevor dragged a hand down his face. "You can't just throw it out there like that."

"You told me to!" Y/N pressed her lips together and focused on staying calm. "I just want to get it out of the way. I'm twenty-one years old. I'm sick of having this hanging over my head."

His eyes passed over her. "I'm sure you could find plenty of men willing to help you out with your little 'problem'."

"I don't want just any man." Y/N chewed her lower lip. She closed her eyes and held her breath for a moment. When her gaze met his again, she found some of her courage had returned. "I want you."

Trevor cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Why?"

"I want my first time to be amazing." She saw the heat flare in his eyes, and it gave her hope. "I know with you it will be."

"I'd ask if you were serious, but in all the time I've known you I've never heard you crack a single joke."

Y/N slapped her palms on her knees and pushed herself up to stand. "I knew it was a risk asking you a question like this. I half expected you to say no." She stepped over his bare feet and forced her shoulders back. "Forget it. I was an idiot to even ask."

Trevor gripped her wrist as she passed by, tugging firmly enough to bring her back a step. "I didn't say I wouldn't do it."

Her breath caught, but she told herself not to get too excited yet. "You'll help me out?"

"Yeah, it'll be a real chore. I'd like to say I'm the type of guy who wouldn't take advantage of a woman in your situation, but who would I be kidding?" He fought a losing battle to keep the smile off his face.

Y/N yanked her wrist free from his grasp and scowled at him. "This is one of the reasons I chose you; your ability to have sex and move on as if nothing happened. Also because you annoy me enough I'm not likely to develop any feelings for you."

Trevor stood and flicked his fingertip down her nose. "You underestimate my appeal, Y/N." He propped his hands at his waist and looked her over. "So, are we doing this now, or did you come here to make an appointment?"

She raised her eyes to the ceiling and blew out a loud breath. "I'm beginning to wonder why I came here at all."

Trevor laughed and gave her upper arm a quick rub. "Why don't we just get it over with?" He intertwined his fingers with hers and pulled gently.

Despite her better judgment, Y/N gave in and followed behind him.

-

Y/N discovered his bedroom was filled with modern, masculine furniture. The bed was unmade, she'd expected that, but everything else had its own little place. A faint smile shaped her lips as she glanced around at his things. She'd never had a reason to be in here before. It made her feel closer to him.

Y/N wandered over to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. She flicked off her sandals and curled her toes into the beige rug. The sound of running water pounded on the other side of the ensuite door. Her leg jiggled, and queasiness settled in her stomach.

"You could join me, you know." Trevor’s voice echoed in the shower.

Y/N shook her head at the humor in his tone. "I think I'll just wait here.” She called back.

"Suit yourself."

She smiled absently and glanced over her shoulder at the bed. The navy linen looked cool and inviting, and she knew the pillows would smell of him.

Y/N nibbled on her lower lip and weighed up her options. Undress and climb in, or wait until he came out of the shower? She decided lying naked under the covers appealed to her more than sitting here growing increasingly nervous.

She stood and moved into the center of the room. Y/N drew a breath, crossed her arms over her body and tugged at the hem of her stop. As the cotton fell from her fingertips, she tried not to dwell on the sexual experience his former girlfriends must have had, or worry too much about her awkwardness killing the mood.

Y/N adjusted the strap on her black bra and peered at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed with anticipation and her stomach muscles contracted with each quick breath. She gathered her hair in a thick bundle and shook it out behind her.

Y/N unsnapped the button on her skirt and hooked her fingers in the waistband. Dressed only in her bra and a pair of black lace panties that rode low on her hips, she gazed at her reflection. With the unfamiliar room at her back, it almost felt like she was watching someone else.

She blew out a controlled breath and reached behind her to unsnap the clasp on her bra. The flimsy material slackened across her chest, and she slid the straps down her arms, letting the bra drop from her dangling fingertips.

As cool air whispered over her skin, Y/N closed her eyes and tried to imagine how Trevor’s hands would feel roaming her body, touching places only she had touched; his weight pressing down on her, his hardness pushing into her. She tentatively stroked her nipples, sighing when they tightened beneath her touch.

Y/N knew he'd do everything possible to make this moment pleasurable for her. The knowledge stirred a deep longing inside her. She grew bolder and smoothed her palms over her breasts, lifting and massaging the tender flesh. Her hand slipped over warm skin and textured lace.

She trailed her fingers between her thighs, realizing that soon his fingers would be there, teasing, stroking. Y/N knew what it was like to reach that sensual peak, to feel control slip away. It would be different letting Tom take that control from her.

Her head tipped back, and she breathed softly. Y/N wanted this, it thrilled her to admit that she wanted him. If she could just push aside her anxiety, everything would be perfect.

"I'm actually at a loss for words." Her eyes shot open at the sound of Trevor’s voice.

Embarrassment washed over her as she spun around to face him. No matter how much her fingers itched to protect her modesty, Y/N forced her hands to stay at her sides. "I didn't know you were there."

"I know." Trevor stood in the open doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist and his damp hair in disarray. His eyes flickered over her. "That's what made it so damn sweet."

Her cheeks grew hot. Gone was the teasing expression she'd grown so used to over the years. Gone was the laughter in his eyes. His jaw clenched as he walked toward her. Y/N watched him approach, taking in every detail so she could relive this moment later on in her mind. When he stopped before her, she drew in a shuddering breath.

Trevor reached out his hand and stroked the hollow at the base of her throat. His eyes met hers, and he ran his fingertips lightly between her breasts, trailing further down to her stomach. His touch was so soft it barely registered, so intense it left shivers in its wake.

“You're stunning.” Trevor said.

Y/N pressed her lips together to stop them trembling. "Thank you.” She whispered. Her forehead was level with his jaw and she had to tip her chin to meet his gaze. "You'll have to tell me what to do, teach me what you like. I really don't know what-"

"Y/N." Trevor clasped her face in his hands, brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to her ear. "Relax."

She sighed at the calm assurance in his tone. He encircled her in the strength of his arms, holding her close, his fingers flexing against her spine. Y/N breathed in the scent of him. She'd never been so turned on by the simple smell of soap before.

His mouth moved over her throat, dropping lingering kisses here and there. "You've got nothing to worry about.” Trevor said. "I'll take care of you."

"I know." She closed her eyes and leaned against him. "I know you will."

Trevor cupped the back of her head, nibbled her lower lip. He flicked his tongue over the closed seam of her mouth. Now his arms were around her, Y/N found it wasn't all that difficult to let go of her unease. She linked her fingers at the back of his neck and pressed her lips to his to feed the desire welling inside her.

Trevor made a small hum of approval. His mouth moved with hers in a kiss so slow and thorough her body loosened and melted against him. Her tongue ventured inside his mouth. He groaned and shoved his fingers into her hair. His other hand swept down her back to curve over her rear, and he pressed her to him, rubbing her firmly against his erection.

Y/N closed her eyes at the sensation, pulling her mouth from his to explore the line of his jaw with her lips. She discovered a sensitive spot behind his ear that made him shudder. It pleased her that despite her inexperience, she could still do that to him.

"More." Trevor breathed the single word against her cheek and dragged her lips back to meet his.

His tongue plunged inside her willing mouth, caressing and exploring the moist depths. Trevor slipped his hand under her heavy fall of hair, cradling the back of her neck as he slid his lips over hers.

Y/N whimpered as she clung to him, overwhelmed by his passion. They were so close she could feel his heart race against her chest. She swept her hands over the muscles of his back, wanting to touch every part of him.

Trevor tore his mouth from hers, breathing heavily as he gazed at her. "You're driving me fucking crazy."

Y/N skimmed her hands over his chest and smiled uncertainly. "I know how you feel."

They both faced the mirror, and her smile disappeared as she blinked at the image staring back at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and pink. Her eyes had a wild look about them. He'd wrapped his arm around her waist, and her breasts jutted upwards over his hard flesh.

"Look at you." Trevor swept her hair aside and licked the back of her neck. "You're beautiful."

She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. "When you look at me like that, I feel beautiful."

Trevor ran his hands over her stomach in slow, hypnotising circles. Y/N watched the movements as if in a dream. Her skin warmed under his touch, and her nipples hardened almost painfully, desperate for his attention. She saw the way his eyes had darkened with need, noticed the steely line of his jaw as he held his desire in check.

Trevor cupped her breasts, running his palms lightly across her nipples. Her mouth parted and a soft moan slipped free. The sight of his tanned, masculine hands cupping and caressing her with such care almost pushed her over the edge. He thumbed her nipples, pinching the buds gently until she cried out.

Y/N held her breath as their gazes meshed in the mirror. Although she knew what was coming, it didn't stop her from jolting against him when he cupped her pussy. Her back arched, and she bit her lip. She'd never been touched by a man so intimately before.

"You feel unbelievable.” Trevor said. “So soft and smooth." He held his hand still and kissed her neck.

It didn't take her long to start moving against him. Trevor massaged her gently. He pushed his finger through her lips, sliding it up and down the length of her, spreading her moisture in agonizingly slow strokes. Y/N knew without touching herself how wet she'd become, how wet he'd made her.

Y/N unconsciously pressed her ass harder against him. Her pussy ached for more. He groaned and dipped his finger inside her. She closed her eyes and let her head drop forward.

Her hair swept over her shoulders, draping around her. "Fuck, Trevor." She couldn't put into words the feelings he stirred in her. Not just the touch of his hands; his presence, his strength, the knowledge he'd keep her completely safe.

Trevor moved his attention to her clit, teasing and taunting the swollen bud. She jerked softly and sighed out his name. "Look at me.” He said. His voice was husky and deep, thick with desire.

She lifted her head and shoved her hair from her face. Y/N met his eyes and leaned back on him. Her hips rocked against his hand. Her lips parted as pleasure raced through her. She raised her arms and clasped her fingers behind his neck.

Y/N’s breaths grew heavy as they panted from her. She could feel the bulge of his cock against her lower back. She was on the verge of begging him to put it inside her. He rubbed her moisture over and around her clit, his fingers sliding through her wetness. Sensation grew inside her until she didn't think she could take any more.

"Let go.” Trevor murmured against her ear.

That was all it took in the end, the sound of his voice coaxing her toward orgasm. Her hips bucked against his hand, and she wanted to double over at the intensity. Trevor held her firmly upright as their eyes met in the mirror, and she strained against his hold, letting out a long, low moan.

Trevor kept rubbing, extracting the final few tremors from her. Y/N gripped his forearm and whimpered as the waves subsided. His fingers grazed her sensitive clit as he pulled his hand from her panties. She shuddered and turned in his arms.

“That was amazing." Y/N swept her hair back and fought to catch her breath as her eyes flickered over his face.

"God, you turn me on. Watching you, touching you... I almost lost it when you fucking came."

Y/N basked in the warmth of his gaze, her body glowing with the pleasure he'd given her. He dipped his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and shoved them over her hips. She stepped from the bundle and her arms wound around his neck as he walked her lazily backward.

Trevor pulled her close and let his lips roam languidly over hers, building the fire inside her all over again. As Y/N took the opportunity to rid him of his towel, her reaction to him suddenly registered. She'd been prepared for awkwardness, for her inexperience to lessen the moment. Trevor didn't seem bothered by it at all.

Trevor rested his knee on the bed. His palm curved around the back of her neck as he lowered her onto the mattress. Y/N scooted backwards against the cool sheets until her head met the pillow. He leaned over her and planted his hands either side of her body.

Trevor took a moment to drink in the view of her. Her nipples tightened and her skin heated under his gaze. Her body shifted restlessly beneath him until desire and curiosity got the better of her. Her eyes darted down his body, to the pulsing shaft between his thighs. Her cheeks flushed at the sight.

“I want to touch it.” Y/N said.

Trevor straddled her and ran his fingertips from her neck down to her stomach. He leaned in and flicked his tongue over her nipple. A sudden smile broke across his face. "Touch what?" He asked, raising his brows.

Y/N closed her eyes. He understood full well what she meant. For some reason he wanted her to say it. "Your cock.” She said softly, building the courage to look at him again.

His elbows came to rest either side of her head. His chest brushed hers as he pressed a kiss to her lips. "Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are right now?" Trevor asked. He moved his mouth over her throat, licked the lobe of her ear. "Anywhere, Y/N. Touch me anywhere."

She smiled. Y/N looked into his eyes and spread her palms over his chest. She caressed his nipples, taking pleasure in the tremor that ran through him. "I like your body. Always have."

Trevor took her mouth with gentle abandon, pressing his tongue against hers. "I've wanted to get my hands on you for years.” He said against her lips.

"Really?" Y/N let her palms glide over his stomach as he hovered above her. His muscles clenched beneath her fingers. She loved the way every small touch garnered a reaction. "I never would've guessed. You've always been such a pain in the ass."

"What can I say?" Trevor lowered his head and licked her nipple. "You bring out the best and worst in me." His breath was warm against her skin. He drew her nipple between his lips, suckling on the tender bud.

Her mouth dropped open and her hips slowly undulated. She followed the line down his stomach until her hands wrapped around him. His groan of appreciation vibrated against her breast. Trevor was hot and hard. He gave a shallow thrust into her palm and tugged on her nipple with his lips.

Y/N used her thumb to spread the slick droplets. "Am I doing this right?"

Trevor lifted his head and nipped at her lower lip. "You're doing everything right.” He said. He lowered his body until his chest pressed against hers and her breasts flattened under his weight. "You're perfect."

Y/N smoothed her hands over his back as tenderness swelled inside her. He pressed his lips to hers and sank his hands into her hair. His tongue swept over hers, his erection nudging her stomach.

She writhed beneath him, desperate, yearning for something she'd never experienced. Y/N parted her thighs and broke the kiss to gasp as he settled between them. His cock probed her entrance, and she wedged her hand between their bodies to touch him again.

Her fingers encircled his thick length, and realization had her brows drawing together. "Are you going to hurt me?"

Trevor pulled back from her and kissed the frown from her forehead. "I'll try my best not to." He scanned her features as if searching for something in her expression. "Do you still want to do this?"

Y/N nodded and squeezed his length, sliding her thumb over the slick tip again. "I don't want to wait any longer. I need you inside me."

Trevor made a deep sound in his throat and captured her mouth with his. His lips moved over hers patiently, thoroughly, stirring chaos inside her all over again. She swept her hands down his back, curving them over his ass. He rubbed his cock against her pussy, making her hips move and her breath catch as he slid inside her just a little.

Trevor moved his attention to her breast, working her nipple into a taut, aching peak with his thumb. She felt the mounting pressure. Bit by bit he pushed further inside her, and she stretched to accommodate his size. It wasn't an easy fit, but his hands and mouth kept her so busy she could barely concentrate on the discomfort.

When he finally bottomed out, Trevor pulled her hands up beside her head and interlaced his fingers with hers. He leaned back and looked into her eyes. "We made it."

Y/N smiled and wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles at his lower back. "It feels strange, almost like you're too big."

He gave a soft laugh. "Y/N, you're too good for my ego." Trevor squeezed her hands and pulled back so he could slide into her again, slowly, as if he was worried he might hurt her.

Y/N bit her lip and closed her eyes, surprised to feel the burn, but each time it got a little easier, and it didn't take long for her to adjust. His thrusts soon became slick and smooth, and she started to feel pleasure rather than discomfort. She opened her eyes to find him watching her.

"Am I hurting you?" Trevor asked.

"No." She pulled her hands from his and shook her head with a smile. It wasn't nearly as bad as she'd expected, and she couldn't imagine sharing this moment with anyone but him.

Trevor leaned on his elbow and wrapped his other arm around her. He pulled her close as he thrust gently in and out of her. "Does my cock feel good inside you?"

She looked into his eyes while his hips pumped against hers and nodded. "Does it feel good for you?"

He gave a hard thrust that had her mouth dropping open. "You have no idea."

Trevor buried his face in the curve of her shoulder and kissed her throat. His cock withdrew almost all the way and plunged back inside her. Y/N tilted her head on the pillow and gasped. The gentle pumping of his hips made her moan; his powerful thrusts made her stomach flutter and pleasure streak through her.

Y/N had a suspicion he was holding back, taking it slow for her benefit. She could feel it in his bunched muscles and the strained breaths against her neck. "Can you... can you do it harder?"

Trevor kissed the underside of her jaw, flicked his tongue over her chin. He dipped his hands into the sides of her hair and held her still. "You want it a little rougher?" His eyes met hers and a corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy smile.

The deep tone of his voice sent a shiver running through her. Y/N barely recognised the breathy whisper that came next. "Yeah, I do."

Trevor rested his forearms either side of her head and ground his hips against her. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He pressed a kiss on her brow and shoved his length hard inside her. "Tell me when to stop."

She slid her hands along his back, hooking them over his shoulders. "I won't."

He spoke softly against her ear. "I like a challenge.” Trevor said.

With that, he scooped her rear into his palm and lifted her slightly from the mattress. He raised his chest from hers and braced himself on one hand. Trevor looked into her eyes and drove his cock inside her.

Y/N felt her back bow with the pressure. Her initial pain was long forgotten, now replaced by the most intense pleasure. Her head tipped back, and she cried out.

"You like that?" Trevor watched her closely. Through the haze of pleasure it dawned on her that he was keeping a close eye on her, looking for any signs of discomfort.

"Yes." Her breaths panted from her. She turned her head restlessly on the pillow and pushed her breasts together, teasing her nipples.

"You want more?"

Her body twisted and she let out a loud moan when he altered the angle of his thrusts.

"I guess that answers my question.” Trevor said.

Trevor settled back on his haunches and slid his hands up her thighs. He gripped her waist and pulled her back against him to meet each glide of his pumping hips. Y/N met his gaze. The intensity of the eye contact alone almost made her lose the little control she had left. Her hand drifted down her stomach, fingers dipping into her heat.

"You're gonna make me cum doing that." Trevor’s mouth curved in a half smile. His fingers dug into her hips and tension gathered in his forearms.

For some strange reason, she felt proud of herself. Y/N returned his smile and rubbed her fingertip over her clit, sliding through her wetness. An ache built inside her, gaining pressure until she felt she might burst. Her lips parted, and she watched him through half-closed lids.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N." Trevor leaned back over her, pressing his body along the length of hers.

Trevor crushed his mouth to hers as she shuddered beneath him, keeping her in place with his arms braced either side of her. Y/N wrapped her legs around him and gripped his forearms. He let loose then, the breath shaking from his nose as he kept his mouth joined with hers. His cock pulsed as he thrust hard and emptied himself inside her.

Y/N leaned her head back and stared up at the ceiling. She swept her hair from her forehead and stroked his back while her pulse settled. Her body felt used, but in a very good way. She shifted beneath him, uncomfortable and awkward now their desire had been spent.

Y/N didn't want to overstay her welcome, but she didn't want to run like a scared rabbit either. She'd been under no illusions going into this; she wouldn't start entertaining thoughts of a future now.

"What happens next in these situations?" Y/N asked softly. "Am I supposed to go?"

"Like hell." Trevor kissed her neck and rolled onto his back, dragging her with him. He encircled her in his arms and held her close. Her heart hammered with hope as she leaned on his chest. He swept his thumb over her cheek and gazed at her. "Stay with me, Y/N."

Y/N watched him in silence, surprised by the look of uncertainty in his eyes. She'd never known him to be hesitant about anything. He'd been tender and kind today when she'd needed him most. He'd looked after her like she'd known he would.

A slow smile spread across her face as he urged her mouth down to his. Maybe she'd entertain thoughts of a future after all.

#trevor zegras x you #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x drysdale!reader #trevor zegras one shot #anaheim ducks

[myfictionaldreams]

request: nyx x female reader where they’re matted but don’t know it and reader visits him at the illyrian camps and she gets hurt and nyx loses it

Don't Touch // Nyx (ACoTaR) x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even thank you enough, anon, for this request! I've been desperate to write something like this (especially including my sweet love Nyx; I have an entire headcanon/long-form story of him already, oops). Thank you for requesting! To you or anything else, please request more SJM fics, I am adoring writing them.

Warning: there is a description of visibly seeing the colour of bruising on the skin. Also, intense emotions and responses to situations due to the mating bond.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, minor injuries, possessive behaviour/sex, obsessive behaviour, over-the-top reaction (or just right depends how you like your partners), threats of violence, aggression, rough sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, size kink, intense emotions/sex, sex until passing out :)

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"I've never seen you like this before, Mor" You observe your friend closely as the beautiful blonde woman checks her reflection in the glass of a passing shop.

Morrigan paused, where she was currently trying to perfect her already stunning hair. Trying not to baulk from the intense, fiery stare that turned your way as she raised a single well-groomed eyebrow and attempted to sound as unconcerned as possible, "I don't know what you're referring to. I'm acting completely and utterly sane".

Linking an arm with your friend, you both continued to walk as you sarcastically agreed, "Oh yes, of course. Except that was the tenth time you've stopped to stare at your reflection and tried to fix your already pristine hair, Morrigan".

Mor rolled her brown eyes playfully, moving closer as a brisk wind brushed over the two of you. "You already know I'm vain; why is it such an issue if I want to stare at myself?" she asked, leading in the direction the two of you were walking.

"I didn't say there was an issue. I'm just pointing out that we're heading towards a certain someone's shop, and she's going to love how you look no matter what". Mor hid her face for once, but you could still see the rosy colour deepening in her cheeks.

She quickly recovered by lifting her head and flicking the blonde strands behind her shoulders. "You're one to talk. I've seen you searching over your shoulder 50 times now. Wouldn't it be because of a certain family member of mine, would it?"

There was no hiding the grin that spread across your face as your pulse quickened ever so slightly. "Nyx doesn't even know that I'm in Windhaven. I might not even see him; I'm not here for him."

"Who says I was talking about Nyx? I'm pretty sure Feyre and Rhys are here too", she laughs as you shove your shoulder into hers playfully. As you both calm down, Mor's expression turns more serious. She glances at you, "I'm surprised he hasn't sensed you're here yet. I also don't necessarily think he'll welcome you with open arms; he's attempted to shield you from this side of his life. As hard as we are trying to change the cultures and traditions of the Illyrians, most of them are still unpleasant to be around, especially if you happen to be a female, wings or not."

"You didn't have to bring me here, you know".

"Yes, well, don't make me regret it. Stay nice and close to me, and anyway", Mor paused as she paused outside Emeries shop. "I needed an excuse to come here", she admitted with as much sheepishness as Morrigan would ever allow another person to see.

You couldn't help but grin as you squealed, "Ha! I knew it!"

The bell dinged above the shop door as you followed the blonde through the door. The answer, welcomed by Emerie by the counter, "There you both are! Welcome to Windhaven, stay away from the males, and please have a lovely time", she beams, walking around the counter towards Mor.

Glancing around to give both women a private moment, you admired her shop and eyed some of the winter clothing that would be perfect for the cold weather approaching Velaris in a few months. As you ran your fingers over the lining of a beautiful coat and casually suggested over your shoulder, "If you want, I can watch the shop if you two happen to find your way upstairs. Didn't you say you have some new socks in the back room?"

"Oh yes, thank you for the reminder!" Emerie played with your antics and took Mor's hand, dragging her into the back. Smiling at seeing their happiness, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the man whom you'd been searching for from the second of landing in Windhaven.

You and Nyx had been friends since childhood. You'd spotted a young boy flying over the Sidra, mesmerised by the freeness of his movements, not watching where you were walking, tripped and scratched your knee on the pavement. Having watched it all from the sky, Nyx landed beside you and helped you home. He hadn't laughed like the other children; he'd shown compassion and kindness.

The son of the High Lord and Lady quickly became one of your closest friends, spending every waking hour possible together when you weren't in lessons or he was in training. Along the way, lines became blurred, and you were infatuated with one another. The relationship was intense, to say the least, and the two of you often joked about being mates, but no sign of the bond had occurred yet.

Not that this mattered to you. You were thoroughly and obsessively in love with Nyx, and he was with you. In fact, his obsession and possessive behaviour were renowned throughout Velaris. Every occupant knew that you were Nyx's; if a single hair on your head was out of place, he would bring all of the power of the Night Court down on them. It was extreme at first, but in truth, you were not much of a fighter, so being able to walk around Velaris with the reputation of belonging to Nyx was a relief.

Now, however, it had been weeks since you saw him as he'd been training with the other Illyrians, and even though he used his daemati skills to talk mind to mind with you or he left intimate little notes throughout your home, it couldn't ease the ache in your chest. So when Mor mentioned visiting Emerie's shop in Windhaven, you jumped at the opportunity to see, hoping you'd run into him, even if he didn't want you near the camps.

Lost in your thoughts of black hair and vibrant blue eyes, you'd not noticed that someone had entered the shop until a male growled from behind you, "Where is she?"

Jumping and turning on the spot, you looked the Illyrian over from the golden-brown skin covered in the darkest black tattoos that stretched up his neck and over the sides of his shaved head, leaving a tuft of hair down the centre. His membranous wings were widely spread as he stood in a defensive stance, fists tightly clenched at his side and armour creased from lack of care.

"Who?" you asked innocently, facing him fully and trying not to let his anger intimidate you even though you could already smell the sourness of your anxiety and fear in the air. The stranger walks forward, the tips of his wings knocking into a collection of hats, all toppled to the floor. "Watch where you're walking!"

The male stops a step away, tilting his head and frowning with even more vigour, "What did you just say to me?" As he took another step forward, you matched his step with one backwards until you were pressed against the wall with him towering over you.

"Just - Just watch it, ok? You're knocking over the display" You pointed to the knocked-over items, but he didn't take his eyes off of you, searching over your body until your skin crawled with discomfort.

"Wherever that thief is, give her this", he shoves the letter that had been screwed up in his meaty hands into your chest. You gasp out loud at the pain that rips through your shoulder, knowing it is going to bruise, and you have to look away to hide the tears that had formed as you grasp the letter and watch him leave.

It was only as the bell rang as the male exited that Emerie and Mor rushed into the room with a dagger in hand as they rushed to your side. If it wasn't for the shock and pain in your shoulder, you would have commented and jested how they both looked flustered with dishevelled hair and swollen lips, but this was the last thing on your mind now.

"Who was just here? Why do you smell of fear?" Mor asked as she rested a hand on your arm, looking at you furiously with concern.

"I don't know his name, but he gave me this for you, Emerie." You held out the letter, ignoring how your fingers trembled as she accepted it with a roll of her eyes.

"His name is Prumlos. He works closely with my uncle, and they believe they have rights to my shop. No matter how often I tell them, they keep coming back. Unlucky for me, he trains here in Windhaven and often brings new threatening letters from my extended family. He's a really brute", she pauses as she eyes you closely, "are you ok? Did he harm you in any way?"

Swallowing the thick lump formed in your throat, you attempt to compose yourself, not wishing to seem weak in front of these two strong females. Maybe you'd been sheltered too much throughout your life, but you didn't want to be emotionally broken just because one arrogant male was rude to you, even if your shoulder throbbed terribly.

"He just gave me the letter", you managed to spit out, not looking either female in the eye.

"Bullshit. I can still smell your fear; what did he do?" Mor demanded, stepping closer.

"Nothing! I mean, he was just an arrogant male and just wanted to scare me. I'm fine, really. But could we go, please? Sorry, I know we've only just arrived. Maybe I can wait for you in the High Lord's mother's home, Mor? I just need to be shown the way". You held your breath, waiting for Mor to answer, hoping she didn't try to question you further, but thankfully, she agreed.

"I'm sorry you've been shaken up; I hope it hasn't deterred you from coming to visit me every so often," Emerie smiled gently while holding your hand.

Thanking her, you and Mor left the store and began walking down the street. "Are you sure you're ok? I can see you're still shaken up; talk to me, Little star", Mor asks a couple of silent minutes later and hearing the nickname the inner circle had named you from a child finally brought a smile to your face.

But then Mor tried to link her arm through yours, and you couldn't help but flinch as the movement caused the pain in your shoulder to worsen. Mor noticed and stopped abruptly, turning you towards her, "He did hurt you, didn't he? Tell me so I can go and deal with him".

"No! Please, Mor, can we just go? You know I hate violence".

"Do you want me to go and find Nyx?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"No!" you say urgently, looking up at her with wide eyes, "Please don't, you know how he'd react. I just want to go to Rhys' mother's home and forget about the day. I'll speak to Nyx another time".

With great reluctance, Mor nods, and the two of you continue the walk back to the home. Once inside and next to the fire, you could finally stop and relax, especially as Mor offered you a hefty glass of wine to help your nerves.

After half an hour of sipping away at the absurdly expensive win, shoes off and feet tucked beneath you, Mor suddenly sat up further in her seat with a smile, informing you, "You're about to be a very happy female".

You're confused by her statement, but then you feel it: the connection in your heart is strengthening, like the missing piece to you was suddenly warming and filling in. The front door opened, and Feyre and Rhys walked in first, followed by Cassian and Nyx.

You're half aware of Cassian's joyful greeting: "Ah, Little star! You've finally come to join the camps. We'll have you trained in no time".

You stand quickly, eyes only on Nyx as he stands in the doorway, not breathing as he stares only at you. One second, you're near the table, and the next, you're running full speed towards him, sliding across the wooden floor with your socks, not that you care as you're suddenly in his arms.

The pain had diminished the second you were reunited with him. All you cared about was breathing him in, the relaxing scents of spice and lavender, the strength of his arms as they wrapped around your waist, keeping you up off of your feet that had tucked around his hips. Your fingers clenched into curling hair at the nape of his neck, not caring that it was sweaty from where he'd been training. He could be covered in mud, and you would have jumped into his arms with as much enthusiasm.

The others in the room pretended to look busy as he continued to hold you, his face moving into the nape of his neck, and he took a deep breath, breathing in your scents. Nyx's voice was like dark silk, wrapping around you entirely as he said, "I knew you were here. I mean, I thought I was losing my mind; an hour ago, the tightness in my chest eased".

You couldn't help but giggle, kissing his cheek, "That was me; I arrived about an hour ago". Pulling back in his arms, the back of your fingers caressed against his cheek, admiring the light stubble that had grown since you'd last seen him. "I like this", you admire.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his thumbs stroking circles from where he still held up your body.

"I came to see my best friend, of course", you claimed, watching his handsome features as his smile grew to a grin, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath your thumb. "Yes, I came to see my best friend Emerie", you joked as Nyx rolled his crystal blue eyes before moving his face back to nuzzle against your jaw.

"I've missed you", he mumbles, not caring that you both had an audience and your heart clenched tighter at the need in his voice.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever know".

"If you two aren't mates, I'll eat my trousers", Cassian quips sarcastically over the rim of his glass of wine. Mor slaps his arm for interrupting as you're lowered back to the floor by Nyx, but you still lean on the tip of your toes, pushing your chest against his to remain close.

Admiring the passionate way Nyx is searching your face, you turn to grin as Cass is over your shoulder when the sudden deathly shift in the air has you freezing. The faelights casting a golden glow across the house dimmed as the room became cold, the fire extinguishing in a single breath.

Your head spins as you turn back to Nyx, who is staring at the opening of your shirt beneath your neck.

"What's that mark?" Nyx asked, his voice a terrifying tone you'd only heard on a handful of occasions. Instinctively, you were stepping back, but his gentle hand grabbed yours, keeping you close. You can sense his family moving closer, and Nyx doesn't wait for you to answer his question. He carefully releases your hand and pushes aside the material of your blouse until your shoulder is exposed.

Glancing down, you could see now that where Prumlos had shoved the letter into your shoulder earlier had now formed a deep purple bruise. Nyx leans forward, sniffs your skin, and his spine instantly stiffens.

"Who did that to you?" he asks, voice thick with venom and anger.

You're unable to give him an answer as Mor is suddenly by your side, holding open your shirt to stare at the injury as she gasps, "I asked if he hurt you!"

"He?!" Nyx growls, looking between Mor and you.

Attempting to take a step away from both of them, you try and calm the energy, sensing it is escalating to a level that could not be returned from. It wasn't that Nyx was scaring you; it was quite the opposite, as his protection made you feel safe; you were just frightened that he would do something he couldn't undo and start a war within the camps.

"I'm fine; it doesn't even hurt anymore" you tried to reason, but that only made Nyx breathe heavily out of his nose as he turned to Mor.

"Who did this? Give me his name. Tell me right now, Morrigan!"

Thankfully, Mor didn't answer immediately and glanced at you from the corner of your eye, knowing that you didn't want to cause a fuss, so she didn't respond immediately, which only frustrated Nyx more in his crusade for revenge. "This is why you shouldn't have bought her here! I told you on multiple occasions that it wasn't safe!"

"Nyx, you need to take a breath; maybe you and your father should go outside and release some of that energy" Feyre tried to reason with him, stepping closer, but it was useless; Nyx was like a boiling pot of deathly anger. Shadows pulsed and darkened around him, travelling up the length of his muscular arms and around his neck. Rhys and Cassian finally began to step forward, moving into a warrior stance between Mor, Feyre and Nyx, even attempting to urge you behind them, but there was no way you were being forced away from Nyx.

Stepping toe to toe with him, your fingers moved back to cradling his face, forcing his now icey eyes onto you, and for a fraction of a second, he seemed calmer. "Nyx, please listen to me, I'm fine. Everything is ok, it was just-"

You were unable to finish your sentence because his knees buckled, and he audibly gulped down air as all signs of anger and pain disappeared from his eyes and tears lined the edges. "Nyx?"

"Mate", he whispers in awe, leaning his forehead against yours as his arms come around your waist, holding you delicately.

You could feel it, too, like an elastic band was tied around your heart, strengthening with each passing second. "I can feel it too"," you confirmed with glee, tears beginning to fill your eyes with the sudden realisation of what was happening. You and Nyx were mates. The Cauldron had blessed you both; even after waiting what felt like a lifeline for the bond to confirm itself, you both knew it had only been a matter of time. The relief was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

"Finally!" Cassian cheered, loosening his warrior stance to return to his glass of wine, raising it towards where you and Nyx stood in the entryway. "Welcome to the family, Little Star!"

You grin up tearfully towards Nyx, who in turn returns the joy, but that all disappears as the anger and rage return full force as he growls, "Someone hurt my mate". Moving away from you, he faces Mor and demands, "Tell me his name, Mor, I know you know it. Don't make me find it out".

Morrigan shifts, rolling her shoulders back as she looks down at Nyx, which is an incredible feat considering the fact that he is considerably taller than her. "Are you threatening me, Nyx??

"He hurt my mate!" he bellows at her, but she doesn't so much as flinch as she shifts her gaze to you, looking like she's contemplating a hundred thoughts at once. Then, without looking away, she confirms the man's name.

"Prumlos".

Nyx vanishes before you have time to stop him, and seconds pass before the ground trembles and shakes the home's foundation. 

"No! I didn't want violence! Why did you tell him, Mor?!" you gawped at the blond, who didn't look remotely sorry.

As Rhysand grabs Cassian and winnows away, Mor steps closer with Feyre at her side. "I told him because we protect our own. Not only has he hurt you, but he's also threatening Emerie; he deserves what's coming to him. In fact, I shouldn't have faltered with telling Nyx, that is my only regret".

You feel defeated and stare at your feet with a thousand thoughts dizzying your mind. Was Nyx ok? Was he hurt? When would he come back? He was your mate. Nyx was YOUR mate.

A pair of brown leather boots entered your vision as Feyre stepped close, wrapping an arm carefully over your not-injured shoulder as she directed you towards the table, kissing your cheek as she moved, "Welcome to the family, properly that is. You've always been one of us, Little Star. Now, why don't you take a seat and I'll see if we have any healing ointments remaining in the cupboards".

Thankfully, Feyre had found a purple ointment that had already worked enough that the pain in your shoulder was considerably less, and the colour of the bruising was now a subtle yellow. Nibbling nervously on the corner of your thumb as you awaited your mate's return, it finally dawned on you. "Wait, how am I supposed to do this? Aren't mates supposed to have a ceremony or something?"

"There can be a ceremony where you offer Nyx some food; we can organise it once we return to Velaris if you'd like? Or if you'd rather not wait, you could offer him food whenever you'd like", Feyre explained warmly with a gentle smile that matched Nyx's.

"I don't think I want to wait. We've all known we would be mates, and waiting for this bond has been slow, so I don't want to wait to accept his bond.

"Why don't you go and have a look in the kitchen? There might be something here", Mor encouraged with a nod towards the back of the house.

You scoured the kitchen cupboards for any sort of food, but with the house having not been in proper use for years, there was nothing except some stale bread on the kitchen table with suspicious-looking green mould on the edges. Even after ripping away the discoloured sections of the bread, you still eyed it with uncertainty.

Stepping out of the kitchen and returning to the dining area, you were surprised to find that Mor and Feyre had gone, and Nyx now stood calmly in the centre of the room, his eyes watching your every breath.

"Where did everyone go?" you ask, trying to fill the thick tension with some noise.

Nyx smiled, not enough to show his dimple but enough to have your shoulders dropping with ease as he stated, "I don't care where they've gone, as long as you remain". Those blazing eyes lowered to your hands as he sucked in a powerful breath as he looked at the stale bread that you were still holding.

As he took several steps forward, you couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to him?"

"What he deserved". There wasn't a speck of blood on his leathery uniform. "What are you doing with that bread?" he asked in a low voice.

You're unsure why you're so nervous when you answer, "Oh, um. It was meant to be for you. I can't find anything else for the mating bond, but it's stale and has mould over it. Maybe I can find a little shop here to find some proper food and serve that to you- NYX!"

Closing the gap between you, he takes the bread out of your hands and, without taking his eyes off of yours, begins to chew the bread that was so clearly dry and stale as he chewed for considerably longer than he should have.

As he finally swallows, you're reaching up for him, resting your hands on his chest and feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palms. "You're my mate", you breathe in awe, forgetting everything that had happened that day and only focusing on the man before you.

"I am. I'm yours, and you're mine", he states with as much wonderment as you felt in your soul.

Grinning up at him, you remind him, "Forever. You're mine forever". The tension beneath your fingers eases as he takes a steadying breath, and then his eyes lower to the edges of your blouse.

You watch with bated breath as he checks the mostly healed bruise. "I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier".

"Nyx, you could never frighten me, " you reassure and tip a finger beneath his chin so that he has to look at your face, not the injury.

"I've always wanted to keep you safe. Seeing that bruise on you today, I was ready to destroy the world to find out who harmed you".

"I know". You watch as he nuzzles into your palm, kissing the centre as you try to lighten the mood, "You're very intense, you know that, right" you say with a light laugh.

Nyx grins, that precious dimple capturing your attention. "I'm more than intense; I'm obsessed. I've been obsessed for years, and now, there's no escaping me" he chuckles as his hand cups around the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, your arms and legs wrapping around his firm body.

"I thought it was just me with the obsession", you retort whilst curling your fingers into his hair once more. Leaning your forehead against him, you both just breathe the other in, eyes closed and hearing the hearts beating as one.

"There hasn't been a second since you entered my life where I haven't wanted you to be by my side. I think I always knew, even when we were children. And now, you're mine".

"Officially", you joke with a giggle, squeezing your arms and legs more firmly around him.

"Officially, my mate", he agrees and then sighs, balancing your weight on one arm so that he could move aside your blouse and kiss the lightening bruise. "I don't want you to come back here again if you can help it. I don't trust these males".

"That's fine with me. I don't particularly want to return, no matter how lovely Emerie's shop is. I don't know how you can stand to be here, let alone train with them", you agreed wholeheartedly.

"You deserve to be in nice and happy places like Velaris, and I can deal with dreadful places like this. It's in my blood, after all". Nyx took a moment to admire your beauty before he stepped forward and winnowed the two of you into his bedroom in the River House in Velaris. "Finally back where we both belong. Now, you're wearing too many clothing articles".

"Wait, don't you have training?" you ask in confusion.

"Not anymore. They'll have to come here and fight me to drag me back to that shit hole tonight. I have other plans now anyway". As he finished talking, he gently eased you onto the navy silk sheets of his bed, resting his arm next to your head as he looked down at you.

You giggle as his hair falls into his face. Reaching up, you pushed the dark curls back to see him grinning at you with just as much glee. "Mmm, I love that sound", he admires before lowering his face to the junction of your neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive area, causing a shiver to burst over your skin.

"What sound?" you ask in a daze.

"You laughing. Your happiness. It's the best sound in the world", he groans as his lips travel up the slope of your neck before teasing your earlobe.

"You're being extra soppy today, Nyx", you say halfheartedly, secretly loving how open he was with his emotions.

However, the man above you freezes, his mouth next to your ear as he asks, "Say that again".

You know exactly which word he wanted you to repeat as you sigh happily, close your eyes and say, "Nyx".

He moans deeply, his hips rutting into the bed with a thrust as a shiver shakes his large frame. "Again," he asks as he lowers his hands to palm your breasts through your blouse.

It was your turn to sigh before whispering, "Nyx".

He lowers his body, kissing down your sternum as he unbuttons the material, exposing your bra and soft skin to him. Your fingers continue to weave through his hair, subtly scratching against his scalp as he doesn't stop on his journey lower. Next, he removes your jeans and socks until all that remains is your underwear.

He appeared to be a man possessed as he stared at you beneath him, biting your lip in need. With an easy snap of his fingers, he tore through the centre of your bra and pushed the useless straps off of your shoulders and down your arms and then repeated the tearing with your underwear.

Nyx utterly admired every inch of your body, his eyes full of emotions and desires. He seemed conflicted, though, unsure whether to spend his sweet time kissing and tasting every inch of your body. Still, as you spread your legs and directed him where you truly wanted him, he growled lowly, lowering his body until he kneeled next to the bed, arms wrapped around your thighs and feasted between your legs.

"Nyx!" you cried out, eyes closing and back arching from the stimulation.

The two of you had been intimate for years, both losing your virginities together and exploring each other's bodies; you knew one another better than yourselves. Nyx liked to show this off as he perfectly flicked his tongue and held you firmly with his hands; you were begging in a matter of seconds. The man bringing you closer and closer to the edge chuckled as he felt you tremble with restraint, knowing he was only doing enough to keep you on the very brink, loving the desperate little cries you released until it was all too much, and you cried out, "Please! Nyx!"

Sucking on your clit was all that he needed to do to have you spiralling into euphoric bliss. Your thighs trembled as they squeezed around his head, but he would happily be suffocated between your legs, so let the warmth of the press into his cheeks until you'd calmed down enough to relax the muscles.

Breathlessly, you looked down your body to where he was grinning, kissing the top of your pubis before licking his shiny lips.

"You're wearing too many clothes". The armour he was wearing vanished in a flicker of magic. Sitting up on the bed, your hands wound around his toned shoulders,  feeling the muscle ripple and move beneath as you tugged him closer and kissed him with all the desperation you could muster.

Both of you were moving with such urgency that your emotions were overwhelmed, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cried out the words, "Mine!" repeatedly. You'd heard of the frenzy after a mating bond is accepted, but you never anticipated it to feel this chaotic. You needed every single inch of him, wanted to taste his body, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the moans from between his lips. There was too much to do, and your brain was engulfed with the need to do everything simultaneously.

Gripping onto his arms, you pulled Nyx so that he was now the one lying in the centre of the bed as you moved to straddle over his waist. With your lips still desperately moving together, tongue caressing and deepening into each other's mouths, your hands finally grasped around the thick, veiny length of your mate.

During any other intimate moment, you would have admired the sheer size of him or the beautiful sensation of him throbbing between your fingers, but right now, all you were desperate to do was give him pleasure.

Squeezing your fingers more firmly around the shaft, you moved up and down, using your thumb to smear the precum over the head. He shivered at the touch, his abs tightening and flexing as he groaned in pleasure.

"Need to be inside of you", he pleaded against your lips. You didn't need to tell twice as you roused high on your knees and direct the tip of his cock towards your drenched hole. You only gave yourself a second to adjust to the sheer size of him before you were rotating your hips and beginning to rock back and forth with increasing speed.

Nyx's arms wrapped around your spine, reaching to grasp onto the back of your shoulder so he had a good foundation to hold and fuck his hips up in time to meet yours. The firmness of his strokes had you seeing stars with how deep he felt. You were utterly consumed by Nyx.

The two of you were fucking each other with such a bruising pace that all you could do was dig your nails into his chest and ride him like your life depended on it. It was only a matter of minutes until you were coming, squeezing your walls tightly around his cock until he, too, was tipping his head back and grunting your name with his own pleasure.

You all but collapsed on top of his chest, greedily sucking in air that smelled entirely of him, and you couldn't get enough. It seemed he couldn't for you either as you continued to feel his hardness within you, not softening even after his orgasm.

Before long, with your face still plastered to his sweaty chest, your hips began to roll, his cock nudging deep inside of you.

"I can't fucking get enough of you", you gasp as he throbbed within you.

Nyx rolled the two of you over, so now he was on top, your legs repositioned so that they were against his shoulders, and you were all but bent in half, the angle meaning he could fuck even deeper.

"Yes! Nyx, please don't stop!" you scream, reaching over his shoulders and stroking the sensitive membrane of his wings, watching them flare behind his back.

"Say it", he begs, his eyes glazed whilst looking down at you.

"Nyx!"

"Yes! Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours!" Nyx moves harder, his hand slipping down your legs until his thumb could circle your clit.

"That's right", he grunts between thrusts, "And I'm yours. Forever".

You orgasm so hard you're sure you black out for a couple of seconds because, in the next breath, Nyx is beside you, spooning himself around you, kissing along your collarbones and stroking his palm down your stomach.

"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" he asks with a rough voice.

You smile softly whilst reaching up to scratch your nails behind his ear, tucking the curls behind his pointed ears, careful not to snag the strands on the multiple silver hoops in his ear. "Not at all, I loved every second".

Nyx grinned, and the starlight that usually glowed in his eyes returned for the first time that day, and he was finally at ease.

"I can't believe you ate that stale bread", you say, laughing at the memory.

"I would have eaten the mould too if you'd given it to me. Whatever food you gave me, I would have accepted it with need in my heart". Those perfect lips of his began to kiss across your cheek and down your throat; however, now that the madness of needing to have sex with him had calmed for a moment, you could actually look him over properly, and that's when you noticed the doting of bruises over his arms and chest, all in different stages of healing.

You tense and ask urgently, "Were these from him? Earlier in the day, I mean?"

Nyx moves away from kissing your throat to look at what you're referring to, shaking his head and casually explaining, "No, they're from training. That asshole didn't have time to make a move against me before I-". You'd lost the ability to hear anything further as a fire burned so thoroughly throughout your soul that it momentarily stole your breath. Red burning anger pulsed in your soul, unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

Before a coherent thought could drift through your mind, you're pushing away from Nyx and climbing out of bed on unsteady legs. Needing to half crawl on the floor before righting your posture, you marched towards his bedroom door.

"Woah, Little Star", Nyx is suddenly in front of you, blocking your exit as he holds his hands up.

You try and push past him, but he just carefully eases you away from the door, "Let me past!" you shout in frustration, trying to wiggle past him.

"I don't think so", he responds gently and calmly.

"Nyx, let me out of this house!" You don't get far through as he moves to press your body against the wooden door.

"And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

Baring your teeth at him over your shoulder, you continued trying to get out of his hold. "I'll kill everyone who harmed you!"

"Oh really?" Nnyx says lightheartedly and with a slight chortle. "You'll kill them? Miss' I despise violence'?"

You turn around so that you're chest to chest with Nyx, looking up at his with eyes so full of fury he actually bulked and softened his laughter. "Whoever hurt you doesn't deserve to live! They hurt you. My mate. MY MATE. They won't live to see the night!"

Nyx wasn't sure how to calm you down, having never seen you with such anger pulsing through your veins before, but he did what he thought was best: distract you. His fingers clutched desperately into your hair as his mouth pressed against yours firmly enough to cause bruises.

You fight and push against him at first, but then thoughts of anger and pain dissolve into lust and need as you're once more desperately grabbing him. Tearing your mouth away, you kiss down his throat, tasting the salty spice of his natural scent.

"These feelings, they will pass", Nyx reassures as he closes his eyes, thoughts entirely on your mouth as you close your lips around his nipple, biting the sensitive bud.

"So you get to have revenge on someone that wrong me, but I don't get to do the same for you?" you ask whilst looking up at him through your lashes, your nails scratching down his abs before grabbing his once more hardening cock.

He releases another long breath, trying to keep his composure as he thrusts into your palm. "I'm saying that I've had a lifetime of training, and taking care of one pathetic asshole was light work. The mating bond is the intense anger you're feeling, protecting my pride. Everything is so new and fresh, but it will pass Little Star. You'll understand that these bruises were all part of my training in a couple of hours. Everyone has similar marks, making the training brutal and volatile. So this feeling, it will pass. Anyway, you are not leaving this room naked with my cum still dripping down my thighs".

You're finally beginning to relax as your harsh touches soften until you're gently cupping his shaft and looking up at him sheepishly, "I thought you would have liked it if everyone got to see who I belonged to?"

Turning on the spot, you rested your hot cheek against the cool wood of the door and began to grind your arse against his cock, "Mmm, don't tempt me", he growls against the side of your face as he moves closer, bending his knees so he could position his cock into your cunt.

Nyx proceeds to fuck you so hard against the door that it begins to crack down the centre. But neither of you stopped for hours. Not until you were both thoroughly exhausted that neither could stand.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips as you teeter on unconsciousness's edge.

"I love you too", you tiredly say back, eyes drooping, and the darkness of sleep welcomed you into its abyss.

#nyx #nyx archeron #nyx acotar #nyx smut #nyx x reader #nyx acotar smut #nyx acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar #mine*

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace- 12

Before we start, I'd just like to wish you all a very happy New Year! Know that there is plenty more to come from me in the coming year. And also thank you all for 420 followers (haha nice), I'm still in shock that people keep coming back and wants more. Believe it or not, this is the most active community and website I have ever written for and I'm so glad to have found Tumblr. Anyways enjoy xoxo

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, a garbage family, family trauma, disowning, tell me if I missed any

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen

Word count: 3,1k

Masterlist

Part 11~Part 13 (coming soon)

“Echanté de voi rencontre, Monsur.” Carlos is trying his best, but at the moment he is butchering your home-tongue. You can’t but be nervous, he however seems as calm as a cucumber about meeting your parents. He’s got the sunglasses on that you gave him. You can see from where your sitting, your initials carved into the side. “No, no, mon cher. Good try, but it’s Enchanté de vous rencontrer, Monsieur.”  

He sighs, rubbing his face in his hands. He looks so much more relaxed already. He’s got short khaki’s on and a casual button up shirt. You’ve hired a more practical car for the week, one with a big trunk. You got your family lots of presents and might have overpacked a bit. Still not used to having such a big amount of money. But even still, you have the sunroof open, enjoying the county side air.  

“I’m sorry, mi querida,” he shakes his head and rakes his fingers through his hair. You can’t help yourself, tucking the stray hairs that fray in the wind behind his ears. “I should’ve gotten a haircut before we came.” He sighs, but you can see that he enjoys your touch. “No, it is the perfect length, don’t change a thing about it.” He gives a side-eye but you can only laugh. “No, it’s in the way.” 

You pout, “No, your hair is just long enough to...grab...” you mutter, taking a handful of hair and pulling on it ever so slightly. Surprisingly, a growl escapes his throat. The noise causes a warmth to spread through your body.

The sunlight hits his skin just beautifully, he looks like hot caramel. Something you want to drizzle into your mouth. You’re sure you could cook a steak on his sizzling skin.  

“This is your home then?” He asks, while caring the bags. He refuses to let you carry a single one. You nod and then knock on the door. “It is a small house for 7 people, no?” He’s not wrong. “Oui, us three girls had to share a room and the boys shared a room.” He grimaces at your words, “Then one day we will have a big house.” You blush at his words and wrap your arms around his, all while subtly taking a photo.  

The door opens, you only now realise how short your mom has gotten. Or maybe it really has been so long. “Ah, ma fille, tu viens enfin rendre visite à ta vieille mère. Cela fait si longtemps et enfin tu ramènes un homme à la maison!” She instantly starts rambling and then opens up her arms and gives Carlos a big hug. “N'es-tu pas si beau? Quel est votre nom et pourquoi êtes-vous avec ma fille?”  

Carlos looks like a fish out of water. His face is entirly blank and he just seems to be nodding along. “Enchanté de vous rencontrer, Mademoiselle,” he stutters through the French, his Spanish accent still blatantly obvious. Your mother just frowns at his bad French. “He doesn’t speak French.” Her wide smile turns sour, “Pourquoi faire venir un homme inutile qui ne parle pas français?”  

You sigh and then nudge him, “the presents,” you whisper. “Il s'appelle Carlos et il a apporté des cadeaux.” Now she really does smile as he holds up the presents. “Oui, come in, come in.” Like always, he allows you to walk in first.

“What did she say?” He asks to you in a whisper. You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing that you need to worry yourself about.” You give him a kiss on the cheek, trying to soothe his usually worry.  

“Apportez-lui quelque chose à boire, je suis sûr qu'il est fatigué après son très long voyage.” You sigh, of course she asks that of you. As if you and him didn’t have the same trip. You turn to Carlos after he sat down along with your mother to open her present, that you picked out. 

 “Carlos, what would you like to drink?” He frowns and then stands up. He takes your arm and then leads you to the couch. “You must be tired, mi querido, it was a four-hour trip, I’m sure you are tired.” He leads you to sit down next to him, he pulls you into his side. Everything in you wants to cuddle into his side, but you can feel your mother’s judgemental eyes on you.  

Instead, you shake your head, “My mother insists that I get you something to drink. You did drive after all.” You can see the tick in his jaw, clearly not happy with this. He smiles, forced clearly, “Please tell your mother I don’t need anything to drink.” You sigh and do just so and she replies with some comment insisting you do just that. Yes, you are exhausted but even still you stand and pour him a drink.  

“Je vais lui montrer la chambre.” You grab him by the arm and pull him up towards your old bedroom. Quite ungracefully you fall on your childhood bed. He smirks, but his smile is quick to fall. “Mi dulce niña, does she always make you feel like this?” Carlos asks you give and exhausted laugh. “You don’t even know what she said,” you peak at him, and he pulls you into his lap.  

He kisses your forehead, “Tell me," You sigh and rest you head on his shoulder. “When she met you, she went, ‘you’re so handsome why are you dating my daughter?’ And then she went, ‘you’re so stupid bringing a man that doesn’t even speak French.’ Then after that it was, ‘poor thing he’s so tired bring him something to drink.’ As if I wasn’t on the exact same trip as you!”  

His jaw locks and his arms wrap tighter around you, “Does she always speak to you like that,” you sigh and sink deeper into his arms. “Why do you think I brought you with. Call you my armour,” you laugh, actually hiding behind his arms. He laughs, but it’s the same type of awkward type, “Where is your dad, is he any better?”  

You hum and then walk down the stairs again after taking your breather and then ask your Maman where your father is. “He is outside with your brother, working hard as always,” she says, still in French.

“Really, which one?” You ask, opening the back door, only to see your oldest brother chopping wood while your father carves the same wood right next to him. “Bér!” You call out and once he sees you, he smiles.  

You walk into the back fields, Carlos trailing behind you and when you do finally meet your brother, he gives you a warm hug. “Finally, back in your own country,” he comments, and you can’t help but furrow your brows. “What do you mean?” You ask, you haven’t told anyone about anything. “You think I haven’t noticed? I am not like Mama and Papa who do not own a phone and use the library’s computer to email you.”  

You frown and watch his eyes. They’re train on Carlos who seems to be struggling with the mud and his very expensive shoes. “Traveling the world with mister Armani,” he teases you like always, and you can’t help but step on his shoes. “Enchanté, Monsieur.” Carlos holds out his hand and it makes you and your brother laugh out loud. “Don’t worry, race-man... I am not her father.” You jab your brother in the stomach.  

“But he’s even worse.” He groans and then begins complaining in French but you’re quick to stop him. “Connard, you know Carlos doesn’t speak French, clearly, you’ve been stalking him. So don’t be an ass,” Bérenger sighs at your words and then translates for Carlos.

“I was just saying that I you see in your fancy Ferrari and your expensive shoes, no one in the family can understand someone like you being with a dull girl like her.” He shrugs and you both laugh, it’s the way you talk as siblings.  

Even so, Carlos’ expression turns sour. “He much more than that Bérenger, now, play nice.” Before you turn to leave to say hello to your father, you ask your brother one last thing. This time in French, because you’d rather not have Carlos know just yet. “How is Papa today?” You brother hesitates, knowing exactly what you’re talking about. “He’s there, like before, no confusion yet today.”  

You nod and make your way over. “Bonjour Papa, I’ve come to visit.” Your father looks up to you, his eyes clear. Not that his personality has changed much, he replies in a gruff tone. “Who’s the boy?” His eyes are like daggers on Carlos.

“He’s my boyfriend,” your dad rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. And for how long is he going to put up with you?” You laugh, like always keeping the peace. “I’m not some terrible burden. At least, not in his eyes.”  

Like always he just replies with a scoff.  

Before long, you’re washing dishes after dinner. “Mi paloma, please tell your mother the dinner was delicious.” You can feel his big strong arms wrap around your waist. You’re sure he's feeling a bit alone. It’s only been you and your brother here who can even speak English.

You smile, “Thank you, Carlos, but she didn’t make it.” It’s the truth, the whole evening Bérenger and Carlos chopped wood, all while you have to take care of your mother’s ever whim, like always.  

It doesn’t bother you; it’s always been like this. But you can tell it’s getting to Carlos. “No wonder I liked it so much, it’s your cooking. But, mi dulce niña, you barely ate, aren’t you hungry?” He caresses yours even as you continue washing. “Thank you, Carlos, it’s nice hearing some positive words after that dinner.” He sighs, burrowing his face on the crook of your neck.  

“You’re avoiding my question.” He places small kisses here and there. “It’s not in the diet plan,” it’s an excuse, your mother had been commenting on your weight all evening. Yes, it’s true you’d gained weight, but you’d been working out and most of it is muscle. But her words are sharp, and the thoughts are springing up. If it makes her happy, better so. He does his usual noise when he’s unhappy when something.  

“Tomorrow I’ll cook dinner,” you gasp, turning to him, his words have caused delight in you. “I’d like to see that,” his brows furrow but a smug look is on his face. “What? You don’t think I can?” In your mind, yes, he has a difficult life, but that’s just stress. He has personal chefs and personal trainers and likely his father had too. Not way did he ever learn to cook. “No, not at all.” 

You cross your arms, and he just laughs. “Fine then, I'll show you. You can even post it on your Instagram.” This sparks joy, you love seeing people’s reactions to you and him.

So far, they’ve been nothing but positive. In these short three weeks you’ve gotten 50k new followers. If they’re there for you or Carlos, doesn’t matter to you. You’ll give them what they want either way.  

“You mean it?” Your hands reach up and take hold of his shirt. “Only if you eat,” and with that you bite your lip and nod. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.” He sighs, takes a drying rag and begins helping you by putting away the dishes. “Oh Carlos! Ne perdez pas votre temps avec la vaisselle, Y/N la fera. Laisse-moi te montrer ses photos de bébé.”  

You sigh, leaning your head against his chest. “Oh no,” his brows furrow pulling you away to see what the matter is. “She wants to show you my baby pictures.” A deep laugh escapes his chest. “Mi querida, I’d love to help you finish this, but I can’t miss that.” You laugh but do allow him to see little you.  

“What colour are you choosing?” You ask your mother, watching as she scans through the different nail polishes. Like expect she chooses a toned-down pink, she rarely does her nails but when she does, it’s always that same colour. “Why don’t you choose something different? Look I’m going with this black with gold shimmer. We’re somewhere nice, don’t you want to use the opportunity?”  

Your mother just looks at you over her glasses. “And why is that?” It’s already Thursday, the week had been going by slower than you expected it would and only made you realise why you visit so little.

The only good thing so far has been your father’s awareness, he’s had a few moments of unclarity these past few months. Even so, just like growing up, he doesn’t exactly stand up for you against your mother’s badgering.  

Like always, it's just the usual gruff short replies and relative quietness. Carlos, however, has been nothing but kind. The dinner he cooked was amazing, the fans swooned in your comments. At night he’d hold you tight and whisper sweet nothings. All about how beautiful you are and how you’re perfect as is. It helps, yes, but nothing compares to motherly love. You do everything you can, but still don’t feel like enough.  

“Ah, Mama, don’t be like that.” After that, she continues about the gossip of the town and the lives of your siblings. That is of course until you’re sitting at the dinner table again. Enjoying the food Carlos has crafted to fit both of your diets, showing him your nails. He loves them and makes sure to kiss your knuckles.  

That is, until your mother interrupts your bliss. “Y/N, what did you say Carlos does?” You bite the inside of your cheek. “He is a Formula one driver.” You mutter, trying to hide yourself behind her sharp glare. “And are you still a chef?” You swallow your food; you’ve been avoiding this question for as long as possible. You shake your head, “No, Mama,” her bitter stare grows stronger.  

“So, what is it that you do?” She raises her voice, now your father seems interested. “I am working on my modelling career.” Both your parents groan and gasp in raised tones. “This again,” your brother mutters, he too has been harsh with you. “Why do you keep going on and on about this modelling. Ever since you were small. My daughter, you know I love you, but you aren’t like those pretty girls.”  

Her words are like knifes; knifes reopening wounds you’d been working so hard to heal. Carlos takes your hand under the table. This whole time he’d been encouraging you to stand up for yourself. Convincing you that what they’re saying aren’t normal and that you shouldn’t tolerate it. You’ve tried persuading him or more yourself that she’s your mother and she does it out of love.  

But she’s been ungrateful all week. As if she hasn’t been begging you to come home and talk to her. She comments on everything, your weight, your hair even your laugh. Saying you squeal like a pig, you tried to laugh less after that one. She hates her nails and all the presents you brought home. More than all, you’ve been dreading this happening. Hoping that it never would.  

“No, Mama, I do not know that you love me,” she gasps and begins screaming even more. “How could you not know? I raised you. I fed you, clothed you, gave you the deposit to get your degree. Which you don’t even use now!” The anger over comes you and you rise from your chair. “Carlos will gladly pay back all that money if I was such a burden on you!”  

The whole table goes eerily quiet. Soon it is interrupted by a scoff from your brother. “So what? He’s like your Sugar Daddy, right?” You take a moment to calm down, trying to decide if you’re going to say the truth. But they're your family. You should never lie to your family, right? “Yes,” you take his hand back into yours. You can see that he’s picked up his name and knows he’s being discussed.  

“What is that, Bérenger?” Your mother asks, switching between you and your brother. “She fucks him for money. A glorified prostitute!” His words are harsh and spit flies as he screams. You know for a fact that if Carlos understood French, he’d be raging.

“Unbelievable!” Your mother gasps out and another raging fire starts in you. “What? Is it so unbelievable that someone could actually love me so much that they’d pay to see me?”  

Years and years or anger and trauma, built up due to constant belittlement finally breaks through. “Why does it shock you all so much that he thinks I’m beautiful. That he thinks I’m more worth than all the riches in the world. You hate it that someone actually respects me, because you can’t knock me down anymore.”

Again, the table goes quiet before your brother speaks again. This time in English, clearly wanting Carlos to understand what he’s saying.  

“He doesn’t respect you. He doesn’t care for you. And he most certainly doesn’t love you. He just wants to fuck you. And once he’s bored of you, he’ll take what he’s given and leave you with nothing.” Before you can curse out your brother, a sharp crack is heard. Your brother is on the floor, nursing a bloody nose. “Don’t you ever, ever talk to her like that ever again.”  

You can hear your mother rambling on about her poor son and can only scoff at her reaction. “I’m not some city boy who doesn’t know how to throw a punch. You won’t believe how strong 6G’s of force make you.” Through all the commotion, there is a muttering that can be heard. Listening carefully, it is your father. “Get out, get out,” he repeats over and over.  

You bow your head down low, right by his ear but just shake off his words. This irritates him and he too raises his voice. “Get out, you’re no daughter of mine.” You laugh at his words, “Don’t be silly, Papa, you must be having one of your episodes.” You go to rub his back, in your mind to soothe him but he grabs your wrist before he can.  

“Hear me when I say this girl, because I am clear of mind when I do. While you are still whoring yourself out to this man, you are no daughter of mine.” The realisation hits you like a truck. So much so, that you stagger back, Carlos catching you as your head becomes dizzy. “Mi pequeña, what is the matter?” All you can do is shake your head.  

“Come, Carlos, it seems that we are not welcome here.”   

Just so p.s. me not translating the French and Spanish is for a reason. I'm not just being spiteful, it is part of the storytelling. If you want to get a good grade in fanfic reading (which is totally possible and a very normal thing to want) feel welcome to translate it 😉

Tag list is open, just ask!

#Fast Pace #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #f 1 x reader

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Thunderstorm - Good Omens.

Summary: Thunderstorms had been one of your biggest fears since childhood and a big storm is on its way, but Aziraphale promises he will be with you. And a sweet surprise makes dealing with the storm much easier.

Warnings: Fear of thunderstorms (Astraphobia), Panic, anxiety, crying, angst, fluff.

Pairing: Ineffable husbands x GN!reader

Word count: 2,176.

The air was dense and suffocating as I wandered through the streets of Soho, rushing to get home as fast as possible before the rain started. Clouds above my head blackened as the minutes passed, only making my steps faster and more urgent. I half expected to see the Bentley parked outside the shop in its usual spot as home came into view but the space was empty, sadness settling in my stomach though I couldn't tell if it was the fact he wasn't there or the looming storm or maybe a mix of both.

"I'm home," I called through the shop as I shut the door with cold, shaking fingers. There didn't seem to be anyone in the shop as I glanced around before taking off my shoes and jacket, walking through to the back room to put them away and grabbing my slippers and cardigan. I hummed to myself as I picked up the fresh cup of tea that seemed to be miracled to stay hot on the side, smiling at the notion. A sigh of relief sounded through the room as I sipped it, the taste and warmth settling me down. "Where are you, Honey?" My eyes scanned the room only to come up with nothing.

"Just a moment Love," A familiar voice called, making me grin. "I'm just shelving some of the newest materials." I rolled my eyes at his antics as I held my cup with clasped hands to warm them up. A mess of white curls came into view as the Angel appeared from behind one of the shelves, books stacked up so high I couldn't see his face as he balanced them. I giggled at him, placing down my cup, grabbing a few of the books from the pile and shifting them into my own arms. "Hello, Love." The grin on his face made his blue eyes shine and I smiled back, shaking my head before pressing my lips to his gently.

"Hello, Honey, busy day?" I gestured to both piles as we carried them through into the shop.

"Yes quite, I've waited all week for these to arrive so I'm glad they have before the storm hit." His gentle voice floated through the air as he lifted the books onto a shelf behind his desk, taking the second pile from me and doing the same with them. I shivered at the mention of the storm, pulling a face at the comment.

"I'll be glad when it's over," I mumbled, grabbing my cup once more and taking another sip. The Angel smiled sympathetically and pressed a small kiss to my forehead to comfort me. The kiss made me melt slightly, calming my nerves even though the wind howled through the shop furiously.

"I'm sure it won't be too long Love," He assured me, picking up his own cup of tea from his desk.

"Where's Crowley anyway? Thought he would've been back by now."

"As did I but he rang saying to expect him back a little later, something about an errand." I nodded, humming mindlessly as I took a seat on the sofa, crossing my legs and staring at the floor. "Love? Are you alright?" My eyes flickered back up to Aziraphale's face though they felt blurred and heavy.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "I'm just a little out of it. Think it's the storm." I sighed, pursing my lips as my eyes fell back to the floor. Ever since I was a child storms had terrified me to the point of endless tears and jumpiness, unfortunately following me into adulthood. This wouldn't be the first time I'd been with Aziraphale during a storm but each time it was the same; I would zone out, becoming distant and distracted, before freaking out when the storm actually hit leaving them to look after me.

"Don't apologise, Love," He came to sit beside me, shoulder resting against mine gently. "I'll be here with you the whole time." I nodded, smiling gratefully at him, finishing my tea. My head rested against his bicep as we waited for the storm to set in, the feeling of guilt building in my stomach knowing Aziraphale would have to deal with the state I got into, especially without Crowley here to help. Minutes felt like hours as we waited and I sighed heavily, eyes peering up at the Angel.

"Azira, can you read to me please?" A pleasant smile crossed his face as he nodded softly. "Can we carry on with Alice in Wonderland?" I giggled at the grin on his face, melting into a forehead kiss before curling my knees up on the sofa with me.

It had only been minutes since he left to go and find the book, shuffling could be heard in another room when an almighty crash of thunder split through the room. A scream of terror ripped through the room as I jumped out of my skin, launching myself off the sofa and to the nearest safe space where I curled up, trembling with hands clenched over my ears and eyes wide with fright. I was so caught up in the noise of the storm and flickers of lightning that I hadn't noticed Aziraphale rush back into the room. A part of me wanted to crawl out of my space and let him take care of me but my body was frozen in place as my heart pounded. I stared as a frantic pair of feet searched the room in my usual hiding spots for a curled-up, frightened bundle but they soon came to a stop in the middle of the room when all my places had been searched.

"Y/N, I know you're scared," His voice sounded muffled as he called out into the empty room. "But I need you to show me where you are." I whimpered softly, I wanted to show him, I really did but my body was too stubborn and stiff to move, curling up tighter with each crash of thunder. By this point, tears had flowed over and flooded my cheeks leaving streaks down my face. A sob was bitten back as the walls practically vibrated with the force of the storm outside, my fists clenched around my ears in a vain attempt to keep out the noise, making the pair of feet turn towards my corner quickly. I watched with blurred vision as the socked feet shuffled over to me, crouching down to reveal a pair of concern-filled blue eyes. Though I could see his mouth moving, I couldn't hear his soothing words as he softened his voice for me, holding out a hand though it just made me flinch. The corner I had shoved myself into was under a desk in the corner, trapped in by the wall and the desk's built-in drawers so there was no room for him to slide in beside me and sit out the storm.

I couldn't tell how long it had been since the storm started, the thunder and lightning sending my senses off in all directions into disorientation but I knew that the Angel never left my sight, making sure I knew he was there if and when I needed him. He had given up trying to touch me, realising it made me flinch and shrink back more and settled for sitting in front of me with his hands in his lap, though he still spoke despite me not hearing him. I knew it calmed him to know where I was and that I was safe as well as he knew it calmed me to hear his voice and see him. A cold wind blew through the room for a moment, leaving Aziraphale no choice but to leave me, mouthing that he would be back quickly, disappearing into the front of the shop.

As soon as he left the room, the walls seemed to darken, casting shadows across the walls with each flash of lightning and tremble of thunder. My silent sobs soon escalated into louder ones as the darkness seemed to fold around me which caught the attention of Azira and the guest. My eyes widened a little more when Aziraphale's socked feet entered the room with a pair of black booted feet just behind him. The two knelt down and this time Crowley's snake eyes appeared as well as the Angel's. Their gazes softened as I fought for my breath from crying, trying to ignore the way my body shuddered with each sob. The demon held out a hand to me but just like with the angel, I flinched and he drew back quickly, looking concerned and slightly offended. It wasn't because I didn't want them near me, the noises and sights of the storm were already overloading my senses and I didn't think I could take much more stimulation. I bit my lip, trying to clear my vision as Crowley stood back up and knelt by a large bag on the sofa before I let my eyes flicker to the white-haired Angel.

I could see his lips forming words like 'Come on' And 'You're safe with us Love' and slowly but surely my body seemed to decide it wanted out of the corner and into the warmth of that safety. Inch by inch, with shuddering breaths and trembling hands I moved towards him until I was just out from under the desk. With one last burst of energy, I threw myself into his arms, burying my face in his waistcoat and covering my ears once more, letting his own arms wrap around me. The hum of his speaking could be felt through his chest as the Angel and the Demon conversed between themselves. Soon after I was lifted and carried to the sofa where the Angel sat me on his lap, still curled up, and Crowley sat in front of me with his hands reaching to remove my hands from my ears. I let him rest his slender fingers over my own and gently pull my hands down, holding them in his own and hushing me softly when I jumped at the thunder.

"Hello Darling," He spoke, resting his forehead against mine "I ran an errand because I found something that could help with storms. Do you want to have a look?" I nodded slowly, squeezing his fingers as he let go of my hands and hauled the bag up onto his lap. I gazed up at Aziraphale who smiled encouragingly and nodded towards the bag, giving me permission to open it and take a look. Shaking hands didn't stop me from having a look and a fresh wave of tears came to my eyes at what was inside.

A charcoal grey weighted blanket was folded inside, brand new and looking incredibly soft. I had never thought about getting one, they weren't cheap things to buy and I wasn't sure if I would like it in case it overwhelmed me but the Demon had taken extra care to purchase one that he thought would be perfect and I would never want to upset him by turning it down. I watched in awe and appreciation as he pulled it from the bag and unfolded it, almost effortlessly though I knew it was heavy, I assumed it was a demon perk if anything.

"We wanted to see if you'd try this when it's stormy or you're having a rough day Love," Aziraphale muttered into my hair. "It might help you to settle and block other things out for a while." I nodded but I was worried this meant they wouldn't stay and help me in a storm but I shook the thought away.

"Would you like to try it?" I nodded eagerly, looking at the Angel to see if he wanted me to slide off his lap but he kept me clutched to his chest just like before. Relaxing back into him, I smiled softly as the Demon draped the blanket over me, making sure to keep the weight evened out.

Instantly, the blanket melded into the curves of my body and the Angel's, serving as a cocoon. The feelings of panic were still there but had dulled down as the weight kept me comfortable and grounded in Azira's arms, making me relax into him, laying my head against his shoulder with a small sigh of relief. Though the storm still raged on outside, the feeling of my gift really did drown out the sounds and sights as I hid my face in Aziraphale's neck with a small yawn.

"How does it feel Darling?" My eyes flickered to meet Crowley's and I gave him a drowsy grin. He took this as approval for the gift and chuckled before sliding off his shoes transforming into his snake form on the sofa, sliding up to us and pooling his body against my chest. The storm's noise still made me flinch but nowhere near as much as it did before the blanket. I couldn't help the immense feelings of gratitude that flooded my body as we sat out the storm.

#good omens #good omens x reader imagines #good omens x reader #good ineffable omens #innefable husbands #ineffable husbands x reader #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale imagines #crowley imagines

[gingerparker]

PULL ON MY THONG

Pairing: College!Peter Parker X Reader

Summary: Peter needs a vacation. So, naturally, he goes to Vegas during his summer break. He's thin on cash and finds a job at a water park! The hot girl behind the bikini bar is a great bonus to his biweekly paycheck.

Warning: Fluff, sexual tension, teasing, slight body worship, drinking (both reader and Peter are 21+)

Word Count: 7158

A/N: let's pretend this wasn't a summer writing challenge... life happened HARD for it to be posted now.. but i hope y'all enjoy anyway ajsjjs DISCLAIMER!! i know the hotel i used here doesn't have a water park but i was too lazy to use a real one sooo it's an invented one!

It's too warm as soon as Peter exits the airport. It's a sticky and dry kind of warmth, no wind of any kind can be felt around him. His small luggage feels like it weighs 5 tons more than it did mere seconds ago and he realizes how stupid it is to have worn dark clothes.

Travellers push past him to find a cab of any kind to get out of the intense heat. Families get into larger Ubers and some are crazy enough to be walking out. Peter is not that determined.

He has to shuffle through the crowd to find a free cab, they are being filled much quicker than he would have thought. Thank god for his faster pace.

Inside the car, he's blasted with cool air, the sweat on his forehead seemingly evaporating.

The drive to his hotel is smooth. He chugs the rest of his water bottle minutes into the ride. Queen's weather didn't prepare him for this.

In only a few minutes he's on the strip. Billboards of all kinds flash around the cab. It's day outside yet he feels blinded by the colourful lights. He sees half-naked men posing with tourists for money as well as showgirls doing the same. He doesn't let his eyes linger too long. The sidewalk is full of people; after all, it's tourist season.

A bright pink flamingo catches his eye, his hotel seemingly calling out to him! Come, Peter! There's some air con in me maybe you could go to my bar or even check out my casin-

"Sir!" he's startled by the harsh voice that calls him, the cab driver.

"Yes?"

"We're here? I've taken you to your hotel" he gestures to the building they are parked next to.

"Oh! How much do I owe you?"

-

"Y/N, I need you to do the night shift today! Bebe is stuck in St-George, you know how horrible the construction traffic is" Your boss, Xiomara, pleads over the phone. "And I can't come in I have an appointment with my OB"

"What about Charlize?" you ask.

Your phone is on speaker on your bed and you're already looking through the clean bikinis you have ready.

"I haven't been able to reach her, please please please!" she sounds so desperate that you laugh a little.

"Should I wear the blue holo set or go for the pink and red tie-dye one?" Mars squeals loudly, her voice cracks through the speaker on your phone.

"Tie-dye!! You're a lifesaver Y/N/N, I owe you"

"No worries babes, nothing exciting was happening with me tonight" You'll just have to reschedule your date with your vibrator for another day.

"I'll buy you breakfast on your next opening shift! Wait, that's tomorrow, oh god you're gonna be so tired. I can still try and reach Char-"

"Mars! Don't worry so much, keep it going and the baby will just shoot right out of you" you laugh as you pack your bag for the evening.

"I mean I wouldn't complain. I'm very much over pregnancy" she sighs and you only hum as an answer.

You both say your goodbyes and you're quickly doing a makeup look to match your uniform for the night.

Deep red lipstick, a thick black liner that frames your eyes just the way you like and a light amount of everything else. It heats up like crazy in the small bar so you don't want to be sweating it off in seconds. The finishing touch is some body shimmer, that's for the extra tips.

You live in a resort-like rental near the Vegas Strip. Your university funds top students from other states to live in these apartments. When you'd been accepted and offered to house you; you couldn't turn it down. Leaving New York was easy enough, your parents were always travelling for their jobs and your friends were leaving for other schools so it was an easy decision.

A big bonus was that it was only 10 minutes away by foot from your job in a hotel's adult pool.

You gathered all your things and made your way out.

Tuesday nights are the slowest nights. The restricted pool access you work in usually has a long cue to be let in but currently, there are only 5 people. 7 if you count the obviously underage girls that nervously fiddle with their fake IDS.

You've only made 50$ in tips so far which is pretty disheartening. Did you waste your best body shimmer for this?

After cleaning the bar for the third time in the last 10 minutes you give up pretending to be busy. Maybe you should make yourself a drink... A nice cranberry, vodka and watermelon purée slushy... You could even try the new bubblegum gin you received...

As you're trying to figure out what to mix the new alcohol with you spot a guy. A hot guy to be precise. He looks lost as he enters the area and pockets his wallet. His eyes are wide and they seem to be full of awe. First time in Vegas probably. His abs are what make your eyes follow him. For such a soft face the body he has is a pleasant surprise, muscles that don't look too bulky and that highlight the fact that he probably takes very good care of himself.

He looks like a Long Island ice tea type of guy, who likes alcohol but doesn't like tasting it all that much. You almost want to whistle at him or do anything to catch his eye.

He'd be a better date than your vibrator that's for sure.

-

It's Peter's fifth day in Las Vegas and he just learned about his hotel's private pool. They only let people 21 years old and older in. All he knew was that there was a small water park, and the kids' screaming could be heard throughout the day.

There are more palm trees to cover up this part of the hotel's grounds, giving more privacy to whatever happens here. There's a large DJ booth elevated at the end of the pool and at least 3 different bars. The DJ obviously pressed shuffle on a Spotify playlist and decided to scroll through his phone. The 3 bartenders he sees look bored out of their minds and are seemingly playing a card game. Only about 20 other guests are enjoying the privacy of this section.

He chooses to go buy himself a drink, there's nothing much to do besides that and swim right now.

Right as he's about to go and disturb the guys playing cards he sees a little hut next to the jacuzzi. It's pure white and only has a sign on the front where it's written "Cheeky Chicks" with a bright pink bikini painted on.

His brows furrow before he steps back to look inside.

His eyes widen and his breath hitches. There stands a girl. A half-naked girl. A very very pretty half-naked girl. A girl that's already looking at him. Peter's knees might just give out under him. A smirk forms on your lips when you realised cute hot chiselled guy noticed you. This is going to be so much fun.

"Hi," you say while leaning forward on your bar a little. The guy's face heats up instantly. Red creeps up his chest and onto his face. Peter is incredibly weak for pretty girls.

"Hi," he manages to breathe out.

"Come over here," you say with a wink. No one can tell you that you aren't good at your job.

Peter nods and makes his way over to her. His steps are quicker than he initially wanted, he did want to look cool and nonchalant. Too late now!

"What's your name?" you ask when he reaches your hut.

"Um... I'm not sure" his brain is screaming the answer at him but all he can hear is "her eyes are up there, her eyes are up there, her eyes ar-"

"Mh that's unfortunate, guess I'll have to stick with sexy stranger" your smirk grows when his tongue comes out to lick his lips.

"Right, um, I'm Peter?"

"You sure about that babes?" his eyes get as wide as saucers, nicknames are appreciated... You make a mental note of this.

"Peter Parker," he says "That's my name" he nods to himself. Probably feeling very proud that he's remembered it. God, he's adorable your practically melting.

"Hi Peter Parker, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you hot stuff" You lean back to your normal position, he's been working very hard to keep his eyes in respectful eye contact.

"What can I get you, Pete?"

"Huh?"

"You walked up to my bar, don't you want a drink?" you gesture to all the alcohol you have around you.

"Oh! Um what's your favourite?" he looks at the numerous bottles around you.

"Anything turned into a slush" you answer honestly.

"Ok... Something with cherry?" he suggests with a tilt of his head. You nod and get to work.

If you mix your shaker more than usual who could fault you? It keeps his eyes on you as silence settles over. After adding a cherry and coconut slush to the alcohol mix you top it off with maraschino cherries and a bright pink swirly straw.

You hand it over to him, purposefully making contact with his hand. He takes a big sip and your stare falls to his neck. Thick but lean, muscular and so soft looking. He'd look so good with hickeys littered all over it. You could even trail some down, down, down... just under where his swimming trucks start. God, you really need to get off.

"So what do you think, babes?" you ask him as he brings his straw away from his lips. He nods excitedly as a smile spreads on his face. How can you want him to rearrange your insides and bake him a cake all at once?

"It's delicious! I can't even taste the alcohol you put in here" he nods seemingly approvingly and you smile smugly.

"That's how you know it's a dangerous drink" you wink, turning around to quickly put away the things you used to prepare Peter's drink.

"So how much do I owe you?" he takes his wallet out and opens it up with one hand.

Maybe this is your chance to be bold. Get a date out of this incredibly slow day?

"Mh it'll only cost you your phone number" you shrug with a smirk on your face. Peter sputters on the sip he'd taken and flushes from head to toe. He shakes his head quickly and puts down his cup.

"I have to pay you" he goes through the bills he has in his wallet, instantly paling. He counts them again to then meet your eyes anxiously. "Um, any luck this cost under 6$?" he laughs awkwardly taking out the six 1$ bill he had. You cringe and shake your head. Why must you go for the broke cutie? He sighs and shoves the bills into your tip jar.

"I'm sorry, my aunt always tells me to budget better but this trip has got me much shorter on cash than usual..." Peter puts his wallet away, already knowing it's best if leaves as fast as he can.

"How long are you staying in Vegas for?" your question surprises even yourself. You both expect to have him just walk away and forget this interaction happened... but alas you're incredibly weak.

"I don't know really... I bought a one-way ticket so... I'll probably try and get a ticket to leave at the end of summer" which is currently two and a half months away.

"And you already have no cash left??" you gasp. How is that even possible? "Do you have a job? Or a sugar daddy?" you add in a rushed tone, shocked at his quite reckless planning.

"Think I'd look good in a bikini?" he teases. Joking at a time like this? He might just be your soulmate.

"You'd look amazing in a bikini but this is a woman owed and woman run" You sigh dreamily at the thought of Peter in a bikini. New kink unlocked? Or are you just incredibly horny... "Although... one of the lifeguards at the water park quit! Maybe I could get a good word in for you" You start shutting off the lights in your little hut and locking up the coolers and stands around you.

"Now?" Peter exclaims. You ignore his shock and turn back to him. You spot his unfinished slushy and hand it back to him.

"Drink it at least, I'm not doing charity for you not to enjoy it" you tease him before making your way out, locking the side door and hanging up the "Closed" sign.

"Oh and I'm still expecting your phone number"

-

That's how Peter Parker got himself a job at his hotel's water park. The man running it barely asked him what his name was before he was hired. They made sure that he had the right certification for a lifeguard job and the next day he was on the schedule. Well, they wrote him in with a Sharpie and they spelt his name wrong but he had a job!

The kids were... tolerable, the pay was ok and the conditions were bearable. His favourite part, however, is the hottie that always put extra cherries on his alcoholic slushes.

It's been three weeks now since he was able to pay back the first one, and it's also been three weeks since you've exchanged numbers.

You've been texting back and forth like crazy. Just facts about your days when you aren't working at the same time or you even like to have him pick out your bikini. He gets exceptionally shy and takes forever to answer but, surprisingly, he's got impeccable taste. Peter knows it's because of how attracted to you he is. Getting to know you has only deepened how doomed he is, how quickly his feelings have shifted from plain lust.

"So you haven't fucked yet?" Ned's voice is loud out of his phone speaker and it scares the shit out of Peter. He's on his lunch break and it's his weekly bro date with Ned. They have lately been full of your name.

"No, women and men can be friends. You know this" Peter knows full well that he'd ditch the friendship in a heartbeat for something more. He'll keep this act up tho, more gentlemanly... right?

"Not when they obviously wanna bone Pete... You're telling me not even a steamy make-out session?" Peter is glad they decided not to FaceTime because he knows what face Ned would be making right now and he doesn't want to see it.

"No" He wishes. He wishes so badly. Like it's actually starting to concern him how much he just wants you to sit on his lap, put your hands in his hair, maybe pull a little, definitely call him babes like you alw- See? He's going insane.

"That's sad Petey, get a move on! If Y/N is as hot as you say then you can't waste any time!" Ned's voice is so diplomatic it's weird but comforting.

"Oh. My. God. Babes you talk about me?" your chipper voice almost startles Peter off his seat and onto the suspiciously green floors.

Peter looks at you with a terrified expression on his face, like you've caught him mid-murder. Damn, his Peter Tingle for not warning him of your arrival!

"Is that her? Y/N! PETER WANTS TO FU-"

His phone is thrown across the room at record-breaking speed, destroying it. You barely seem surprised.

The silence that takes over the room gives Peter time to look you over. What you're wearing today has to be lingerie... just enough is left to the imagination and it's hypnotising. The way the slightest movement makes you look, the up and down of your chest as you breathe, how you look walking closer to him. Wait, walking closer??

His eyes snap up to meet yours as you walk over to him.

"Take me out tonight" You lean down to his eye level. The eye contact you hold is intense. So much is communicated through facial expressions. Peter's mind repeats your statement over and over, making sure he actually heard the right thing.

"Where?"

"Anywhere near an Apple Store so we can get you a new phone" you wink.

-

Smoking hot date, check.

Carefully picked out outfit, check.

Cute but comfortable makeup, check.

Get Peter a new phone before the date actually starts, check.

You and Peter are now slowly making your way down the Vegas Strip. With the ending goal in mind to find someplace interesting to eat. You walked past many many different restaurants but nothing that made you stop walking.

Peter's hand holds yours loosely, the hot weather unsuitable for real hand-holding. He's wearing a light pink shirt with flamingos and flowers patterned around it, obviously, he hadn't packed a "date shirt" before leaving New York and bought it at his hotel. His legs are barely hidden away by his short jeans short that have numerous rips in them... God you want to bite his thighs.

"You're staring at my legs again" You can hear him smirking through the tone of his voice.

"Oh shut up!" you knock your shoulder onto his arm with a laugh.

"It's fine this most likely compensates for the number of times I've at your boobs... or your ass... or anything really when you have a bikini on" he gestures with his free hand to you. Most likely visualising a bikini on you now.

"Mh, that's true... I'll keep staring then!" you smile proudly winking at him. His face and neck flush pink as he ducks his head. He's so fun to tease always so responsive.

Conversation is easy. It always is. Your personalities mesh together perfectly which makes hanging out with him so fun.

This being more officially a date has put weight on both of your shoulders. Somehow, it's made a sliver of anxiety surround the both of you. It must mean you both want this date to go well; to have many more after.

"Oh! How about hot dogs?" Peter points to a small restaurant to his left.

"Those are probably, like funky hot dogs... I'm down, let's go!" you tug him towards Haute Doggery.

You're both greeted by a woman behind the counter when you walk in. The place is small, with four two-person tables and a high counter along one of the only bare walls. That said it's cosy and inviting so you're immediately excited.

"Wow! A foot-long hog dog??" Peter gasps as he reads the menu. You giggle at his reaction now reading the menu yourself. So many options to choose from... "Want to share two regular-sized speciality ones?"

"Only if we get fries" you nod seriously, now choosing a hot dog to share with him.

"I definitely want to try the mac and cheese one" Peter looks away from the menu to meet your eyes.

"Good choice! I saw we get that one and the breakfast one, I can never say no to hash browns"

Once you receive your order you make your way to one of the tables, ready to absolutely dig in. Peter takes the time to precisely cut in half both hot dogs and gives you your pieces.

"Cheers!" you say knocking your half with his before taking a generous bite of the breakfast delight.

-

"So this is my room!" Peter shuffles inside his hotel room before holding the door open for you.

The room is nothing crazy. One queen bed in. the middle, a dresser with a tv on top of it, grey carpet flooring, pinkish walls, a bathroom and a balcony overlooking the pools and the waterpark.

You make your way over to his freshly made bed: thank you housekeeping. You sit down on it beckoning Peter over to you. He toes off his shoes in a hurry before practically lunging at the spot next to you. Cute.

"Had fun, cutie?" you look at him with seductive eyes and a warm smile. You want him to be putty in your hands.

Peter reacts immediately to the name you call him, blushing and wide-eyed.

"Yeah, you're easy to talk to and really sex- I mean smart. Really smart." his words seem to be tumbling out of his mouth in a panic.

"Babes, calm down!! You can compliment me. Physically too" you smack his chest feeling the firm muscle of his peck.

He only nods as an answer but keeps his eyes locked with yours. You're the one to break the eye contact to glance at his lips. You want to kiss him so bad...

"Can I kiss you?" Peter might be a mind reader.

"Please" is what you answer.

Kissing Peter is immediately addicting. He's so enthusiastic, kisses like his life depends on it. His left hand goes to your back and his right cradles your jaw. Your own move around his body. Gripping his muscles, tangling in his hair, slipping under his shirt. You're having a great time exploring his body.

You bite his bottom lip playfully, tugging it towards you and it makes Peter moan in delight.

"You're so hot, I'm going insane" he mumbles between desperate kisses.

You only hum in answer wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down above you. His body is so warm against yours like he's on fire. You tug off his shirt, to help him cool down is what you tell yourself.

"I know I see you without a shirt more than with one but this is so much sexier" you trail your fingers all. over. him.

Peter turns you onto your side to unzip your romper. His lips never leave yours, the contact staying feverish and fast. It's like he wants to eat you whole. Maybe he does, you'd let him.

The shrill sound of your ringtone startles you, causing you to knock your chin into Peter's nose as you look up.

He groans as you reach to silence the (incredibly rude) device. Unfortunately, your index has other plans and presses the accept call button.

"Y/N?" Xiomara... This can only mean bad news.

"I know you're on a date and I'm so incredibly sorry to be doing this. I just went into labour and you're literally in the hotel somewhere..." Her voice is strained and you breathe out in exasperation.

Peter's head drops into the crook of your neck. His hands don't start roaming, they travel, map your body out. Every single inch of skin he can reach. Inside the romper, your face, legs, arms... Anything and everything.

"I... I don't have a bikini" you manage to say.

"I really don't care what you wear. Actually, you know what I don't care about the bar right now never mind" She hangs up immediately.

"Thank fuck for that" Peter exclaims dragging the rest of your romper off.

You laugh as he readily gets back to what he was doing. His lips on yours, guided your hands into his hair and hips bucking into yours.

Yeah, this is so much better than taking over "Cheeky Chicks" for the evening.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland spiderman #mcu spiderman #spiderman #peter x reader #tom holland x reader

[eagerbby]

Linger | Part 1

pairing| Eddie Munson x older!female reader

synopsis| A unknowing game of cat and mouse with your younger neighbor, who can't seem to hold on to his house key, leads to feelings you don't want to admit and actions you can't take back. Not that you'd want to, anyway.

an| admittedly I've been working on this far too long, since October to be exact. I wasn't seeing a lot of older!reader fics and as a 26 year old I wanted to explore a dynamic between Eddie and someone older. I hope you enjoy and be ready for part 2 which will be even more filthy than this!

warnings| 7k, eddie is 20-21, female masterbation, eddie is persistent as fuck, stubborn!R, drug use (weed), reader is kinda bitchy but eddie likes it. MDI

“Eddie?” 

“Hey, princess. It’s fucking freezing out here.” He smiles at you as a cold gust of wind blows past him and straight into your bones. Behind him the sun is setting into a tangerine colored, cotton candy sky. 

“Lose your key again?” You ask, shivering in only a shirt and shorts, huddled behind the screen door with your arms wrapped tight across your chest. 

Eddie shrugs sheepishly from the other side of the screen door, but his crooked grin tells you everything you need to know. 

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck as he peers up at you through his lashes with puppy dog eyes. "I think I forgot it at The Hideout last night."

With a sigh and a halfhearted roll of your eyes you motion him in, smiling to yourself as you walk back to the sudsy dish water you had been wrist deep in when he'd first knocked.

"Starting to think maybe you should tie that key of yours around your neck." You quip as he settles himself at the little dinner table tucked into the corner of your kitchen. 

It’s not a very big kitchen, smaller than your bedroom even, which means the ‘corner of the kitchen’ is only five feet from the L shaped counter. If you took two steps backwards you’d be in his lap. The thought has your stomach fluttering.

"Uncle Wayne said the same thing." He chuckles. "Says I'm costing him a fortune in key making." 

"This is a common occurrence for you, huh?"

"No, not common... maybe like the sixth time…this year." 

"Jesus Christ, Eddie." You laugh, wiping your hands off on the dish towel as you turn towards him. "Remind me not to ever hand you my keys." 

He smiles at you with this cheesy grin that makes your stomach flutter like a teenage girls, heat rushing to your face when you notice the way he's sitting. 

He’s leaned back in the walnut stained wooden chair, legs spread wide. His already tight black jeans stretched taut over his thick thighs and his worn Black Sabbath shirt has ridden up against the pale skin of his stomach, the dark line of his happy trail catching your eyes. It takes everything in you to look away, to not allow your eyes to stay glued to that sexy tuff of dark hair. 

You turn back to drain the sink, willing the heat in your face away. 

"Guess who's graduating this year?" He sounds jovial and you just can't help but tease him- just a little. Maybe it’ll ease the tension settling in the air of your kitchen. 

"Hello, Eddie. I'm fine, how are you?" You say while you begin wiping the counters down, stepping over his long outstretched legs. 

"Come on! Guess!" He urges, leaning forward to bump your elbow with his knuckles. You clench the rag in your hands tighter as you wipe down the stove. 

"Well, I don't know any high school boys, other than you, so I'm gonna need a list of names to run through first." 

"You're so mean to me." He says with high dramatics, taking the leather jacket he'd left here a couple days ago and tossing it over the back of a different chair.  

"Eddie, I let you hang out, smoke you up, and I feed your gangly ass. God, I'm such a horrible, evil person." Your voice runs an edge of seriousness as you tease him, throwing a look over your shoulder in the process. 

And, God, maybe you shouldn’t have looked back at him because he’s sitting there with his legs spread wide looking at you with that heavy simmer of his that you've started to notice and ignore. He's become a temptation, one you just can not fold to. It'd be wrong. You're older than him and he's still in high school, anything more than hanging out would leave you feeling dirty.

Unfortunately, you're not quite sure if it's a good kind of dirty or a bad kind. 

"You're the worst." He drawls, fiddling with his trusty zippo. "You devilish woman, you." 

The way he says it makes your spine tingle, makes you clench your thighs a little and hope he doesn't see. 

"You hungry, kid?" Maybe a change in subject will evaporate the building tension in your small kitchen. You dig through the fridge as he sits silently behind you. 

"You know I hate it when you call me that." His words mumbled when he finally speaks, sad almost, but he knows what you're doing. It wasn't like he couldn't feel the tension that was building between the two of you.

It starts off innocent enough. Three in the morning, dressed in only your silk robe and a pair of rain boots you'd found by your front door, you had trudged across the small gravel driveway between the two trailers and banged banged banged at the blue painted door. You didn't know your neighbor. You’d only lived in Hawkins a couple months at the time, but you did know that every night from 9 to 11 the sound of a wailing guitar was bound to rattle the fake crystal chandelier hung in your living room. Usually you could manage, put your tape deck on -drown it out- but that night the tinny punch didn't stop when the clock struck eleven or even at midnight. In fact it seemed to get even louder, like the person had turned the amp up, and you were fuming mad. 

The door swung open so hard and fast it startled you and before you could chastise the person for making such an unnecessary ruckus, they were already apologizing.

"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't realize how late it was." 

"You've been playing for hours, kid. Some of us have to work in the morning." 

That anger you had as you stomped over dissipated quickly as you looked at his frazzled expression. He was young, obviously a metal head considering the long hair and all black attire, but his big chocolate brown eyes begged for forgiveness as they blinked back at you.

"I really am sorry, Miss. I'm learning a new song and… I guess I just got carried away." God, poor kid looked like he was about to get cuffed and loaded into the back of a cop car.

"S'fine, just go back to your normal hours. That I can deal with." You start to step down the rickety porch steps before you turn quickly and point your manicured finger at him. His eyes widened. "And don't fucking call me Miss, my name's y/n."

After that he seemed to make it his mission to run into you whenever you weren't locked inside your trailer. From meeting at the mailbox, to offering to mow your grass -which you really didn't have much of- to sitting next to you as you tended to your garden. It wasn't until a stormy cold evening that you invited him in. He said he lost his key and his uncle worked at the plant all night and into the morning. You made him dinner, watched a movie, and set him up on the couch for the night. 

“Only this one time.” You'd said. “What do I look like letting a high schooler into my home?” 

Eddie loathes when you do that to him, even now, level him down to simply a high schooler. 

“I'm twenty.” He'd corrected, going as far as to show you his license. Sure enough he was, but you knew you couldn't let it go past a friendship. The town would think you'd corrupted him, they'd surely run you out with torches and pitchforks. Shit, they'd probably burn you at the stake. 

But something was starting to grow between you two. You thought at one point it was merely fondness for the strange kid who spoke in codes half the time and made a show out of everything he did. It didn't take you much longer after that, though, to realize what was really growing. Sprouting the weeds in your chest.

You wanted him.

God, did you feel horrible about that one.

It didn't matter that he was twenty, legal, an adult, there was such innocence inside him. Heart on his sleeve, kindness in his smile. Anything other than friendship was a no go. You'd ruin this kid, you just knew it. You didn't have the best track record with men and the last thing you wanted was to take this young man and break his heart before he could even experience what young love could feel like. 

Wasn't happening. It's what you kept telling yourself. It's why you'd call him kid, which he hated passionately and made sure to let you know. Why you wouldn't let him hug you like he begged and begged to do. Shit, it'd probably be easier to put on a chastity belt and call it a day. Every time you pushed him away, he'd barrel back head first. He was incredibly determined. 

You were playing a losing battle. 

"Sorry, bub. Forget sometimes." You toss halved tomatoes in a bowl of chopped lettuce, moving to place the cutting board and knife in the sink before going back to the fridge. 

You could feel his eyes boring into your ass as you bent to look through the crisper, hair standing up on end as you tried your hardest not to look back at him. You know what you'd see if you did and the last time you'd caught him staring the tarry blackness of his wide pupils almost knocked you to your knees. 

"Are you hungry, though?" You ask again, clearing your throat as you straighten your back and shut the fridge door. You make it a point not to look at him as you head back to the counter, an onion in one hand and a small pack of steaks in the other.

"Steak? Okay, I take back what I said before. You're an angel sent from heaven to save me." 

"Ha, maybe in your dreams." You try to joke back but you can feel his body heat again as he squats down beside you to grab the cast iron skillet from the cabinet. He puts it on the stove and smiles up at you. You hadn’t even heard him stand from the chair.

"Always in my dreams, sugar." 

His words send that sickly sweet rush of heat down into the pit of your belly. Your body so starved for a release it actually hurts. 

Why does he have to make this so hard? 

"So you're gonna graduate this year, huh?" Change the subject. Ignore the stupid fucking glint in his pretty brown eyes. It's starting to become a routine, really.

"I got a C in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, which isn't great I know, but it's enough for me to walk the stage." He raises back to his full height, looking down at you with that little smirk of his, watches as you peel the pale skin of the onion. "Will you come to graduation?"

You can't hide how his question surprises you, hands freezing against the clean cutting board, eyebrows furrowing together. 

"I really want you to." He adds, closing in on you. 

"Won't your uncle think it's weird some stranger is coming to watch his kid cross the stage?" 

"He knows about you." 

You drop the onion onto the board and it rolls off the counter when you turn to him.

"He knows about me? What's that mean?"

Eddie shrugs, so much closer than you expected him to be. You can smell the hint of smoke on his denim vest, see the deep vines of brown swirling his eyes. "I told him where I was that night I lost my key. He has this weird thing about me sleeping in my van, he hates it for some reason, so when he asked I just told him the truth."

"And?"

"And nothing." He laughs. "Why are you worried about what my uncle thinks?" 

"Uh, because he's your guardian and I don't want him to think I'm taking advantage or-or corrupting you."

Eddie bursts out in laughter, head falling forward into your shoulder before he's leaning back and wiping under his eye as if there's a tear. 

"God, sweetheart, you should be worried about the opposite. You haven't heard?" He leans in and narrows his eyes menacingly. His breath wafts over your cheek as he speaks. "I'm the town pariah. The town freak. Nobody is worried about ‘The Corruption of Eddie Munson’." 

“That’s not true.” Your voice is a hush whisper as you answer back, trying your hardest not to choke on your own damn tongue. You’re locked onto his unwavering gaze, his body unyielding as he steps closer somehow. Fuck, he’s so close, if you just lean up a couple inches your lips could capture his. 

No. Nope. Not happening. 

You lean away as his hand comes up to brush a stray hair behind your ear and the simple touch -the simple intimacy of the gesture- sends shivers across your hot skin. 

“Eddie.” You warn softly and he grins sheepishly. 

“Sorry, I can’t help myself.” His breathing is still a little shallow.

“Eddie.” 

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step back, far enough that he’s not almost pressed against you anymore but still close enough to feel the heat radiate off his body. 

“Can you rinse the onion for me?” 

With a nod he ducks to pluck the runaway vegetable from the floor before heading for the sink. He flips the tap on with a long finger and the hum of running water does nothing to drown the racing of your brain.

After a quiet dinner you find yourself sitting next to him on the couch, a rerun of Murder, She Wrote playing on the TV. Your brain is fuzzy from the weed he’d brought to share with you and you find yourself leaning against the backrest of the couch, eyes glued to him as he takes a big bong rip.

“You really want me to come?” You ask, voice soft and airy, and Eddie hacks as his head whips toward you. He looks like a cartoon bull with the way the smoke shoots from his nostrils.

“Huh?” He manages as he splutters, clutching the neckline of his shirt as if that would fill his lungs with air. 

“Do you really want me to come to graduation?” You ask again, handing your drink over to him and patting his back. He chugs the whole glass of Coca Cola, panting when he’s done. 

“Fuck, I hit that too hard.” 

“You’re about to be comatose off that hit.” You laugh, taking the glass as he hands it back to you. He settles back into the cushions with a lopsided grin on his face. 

“Just what I wanted.” He chimes, his black lashes fluttering against his cheeks as his eyes close. “What’d you ask me?” 

You go to repeat yourself before noticing just how soft his features have become, sleep inevitably pulling at him. You’ll talk to him tomorrow, you think as you stand from the couch.

“Go to sleep, Ed.” You whisper into the dim lit room, covering him with the blanket that had become balled up in his lap. 

“M’kay, nightie night.” He tucks his knees to his chest, nuzzling his face into the fabric of the couch and then he’s out, soft snores fluttering the stray string clinging to the blanket. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy, like most nights. You spend hours laying there in the dark, watching the way the moon light reflects off your crystal window chime and sends arcs of purple candescent rays across your walls and ceiling. The tossing and turning comes next, an hour spent tracing the rays with your eyes has become boring and the lack of sleep makes your eyes heavy. Of course they aren’t heavy enough to allow you to succumb to the sleep you desperately long for.

Usually you’d reach for your little friend tucked away in your bedside drawer but with Eddie just down the very short hall, you don’t want to chance your noisy little friend waking up the meddlesome boy sleeping on your couch. 

Eddie. The reminder of him shoots through you like an arrow, mind hastily rewinding to the way he all but cornered you in the kitchen earlier. The way your heart stuttered in your chest and your fingers ached to pull him by the collar of that stupid ripped Black Sabbath shirt until his lips were pressed against yours.

Okay. Stop.

You can’t think about him this way. He’s young, a good couple years younger in fact, there was no way you could allow these thoughts. 

But if they are only thoughts, who do they really hurt? You won’t act on them, you know better than that. Know you can’t get wrapped up with the twenty year old super senior, not when you came here to specifically get away from the drama of your past. No. You have to be good. Have to resist his infallible charm. You need to turn over, close your eyes, and be good. 

Yet your hand still wanders past the hem of your panties, down across the silky skin that lays underneath them. Your fingertip finds your clit immediately and your body jerks at the sensitivity of that little bundle of nerves, a surprised gasp leaving your lips in a rush. 

Down the hall, bundled on the couch, Eddie coughs. 

In your bed you lay frozen, heart pounding and ears listening intently. There’s no way you woke him up, not with just a gasp. You continue to listen for any other noise for a minute or two, heart steadily thumping and your fingers twitching at the anticipation of what you’re about to do because let's be real here. If you don’t come soon, you might actually implode.  

Feeling safe to move forward in your little quest, you guide your fingers back down, teasing a trail through your wet folds. 

His fingers would feel so much better. It’s not a helpful thought, not when you’re trying to think of anyone but him.

Fuck, okay. 

Patrick Swayze in that tight black shirt in The Outsiders. No. Scratch that. Matt Dillion as Dallas in The Outsiders, all rough and tumble. Just what you like in a man. A little rough around the edges but a good soul.

You press tight circles on your aching bud, arch your chest into your hand as it slips under your loose nightie, pulling at your pebbled nipple. You can’t help the soft moan that floats out, can’t help the rut of your hips into your palm as you slip two fingers into your heat. You imagine Matt Dillon laying you down on the bed, burying his face between your thighs.

Oh, fuck, that’s so good. This isn’t a marathon; it’s a sprint.

Your body so pint up and begging for some sort of release you’re on the precipice in no time at all. Your body is on fire, hips canting wildly, you think maybe your bed is squeaking but you don’t care. Fuck, you can’t care. Not when you’re so close. Just a little closer. 

Your imaginary scenario shifts suddenly and unexpectedly in your mind. Sexy Matt Dillion erased as Eddie’s face engulfs your vision completely. His beautiful face, those big strong hands of his, the tattoos, that little strip of black hair that leads down down down into his pants. 

You come with a cry, shocking and loud, and you clamp your hand across your mouth as your eyes screw tightly, brow pinching together almost painfully. 

His words from earlier replay as your body rocks through your orgasm in one vicious wave after another. 

"You devilish women, you.” 

Your thighs, trembling and slick, clamp around your own hand when you’ve had too much. Body relaxes into your silk sheets as you breathe slowly. But you’re filled with this zing like pins and needles from your fingertips to your toes and your mind is racing, and why the fuck did your brain betray you like that? 

You feel it then, the soft call of sleep. The flutter of your eyes as you fight to keep them open. The trailer is silent besides the rough Illinois winds as they beat a lone branch against the roof. You roll over in your bed, nuzzle deep into the blankets. You’ll deal with whatever that was tomorrow or the next day. Or never. You take one last peek at your room, still a soft lavender hue, purple moonlight, before sleep takes over. 

You don’t even notice the fact that your bedroom door had been left open just a crack. 

Eddie is gone when you wake up the next morning, the sun casting its early morning rays into your windows. The only proof he was even there is the blanket he slept with the night before sloppily folded on the arm of the couch. You don’t think much of his earlier departure. He’s a busy guy running full steam ahead towards his graduation. So you go about your day as normal. Coffee made, a small breakfast of yogurt and some berries you wished you’d grown on your own. You tidy up from the night before, washing the dinner dishes and making a list you shove into the depths of your purse. You need to stop by the store after work, get dinner for the next couple nights. 

The day goes on like so; slow and laborious. You try your hardest not to think about Eddie, try to place him at the back of your mind. You go through work at the Hawkins Journal mindlessly. Walk the colorful aisles of the grocery store with glazed eyes.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. It’s late, nearing seven, and the place where Eddie’s van calls home is empty. You assume he’s off doing ‘Eddie Things’ as you called his extracurricular activities that were not of the legal kind. 

You decide to start dinner instead, talking to your friend from back home as you cook. 

“Any new love interests?” She asks at one point, voice giddy with hope. It’d been a year or so since you broke up with your toxic ex and about nine months since you’d arrived in Hawkins with no interesting suitors. 

“Nope, not one.” You rattle off as you stir your boiling water and pasta.

“Bullshit.” She says under her breath before she repeats herself, louder this time. More accusatory. “That’s bullshit. Nine months and not one guy you’re interested in? Did moving to that Podunk town automatically make you a nun?” 

You laugh at this, rolling your eyes as if she could see. 

“No, it didn't make me a nun. But most of these guys are married. Or boring. Or married and boring. Or..” 

“Or?” She catches your avoidance, the tone you held as you trailed off from your former sentence. 

“Or… nothing.” You avoid it as you strain your pasta. 

“Babe.” She says sternly. 

“Fuck. Or they're too young.” You plop the strained pasta unceremoniously in the pasta sauce and throw the white plastic strainer into the sink.

“Young? How young are we talking?” Her voice is fully scandalized and you can only imagine the bright smile she's wearing. 

“20.” You sigh, leaning your hip against the counter as you stir with one hand and hold the phone against your ear with the other. “My neighbor. He’s…. He’s trouble.” 

“Oh, so he’s your type, is what you’re telling me.” She chimes and you roll your eyes once again.

“No. He’s trouble for me. He’s a good guy. Kid. Person.” Another sigh from you as your friend chuckles. 

“Oh, you are so bad off.” A giggle, then, “He’s legal, just go for it. You know, the world would be better if you got laid. You’d be less tense.” 

“No. He hasn’t even graduated high school yet.” You say. 

“He’s 20 and he hasn’t graduated high school?” 

“He’s not stupid.” 

“I didn’t say he was.” Her tone makes your skin crawl. She can tell -over the phone, miles away- just how defensive her question made you. 

“He’s just a kid.” You say again, mostly to yourself. 

“Babe, he’s twenty.” 

“So what, I should just fuck him?” Your voice is getting higher, temper is starting to build. There’s no reason to get so worked up, you know your friend means well, but you know you can’t go there with Eddie. You’d just ruin him. You weren’t good at relationships. 

“Calm down. I’m just saying. If you want it and he wants it and you are both legal consenting adults, what's the issue?”  

“It feels wrong. Like I’m taking advantage of him.” You mutter, abandoning your bubbling pasta to look out your window towards Eddie’s trailer. The van is still gone but now his uncle Wayne’s truck sits out front. 

“Jesus, babe. You’re clinging on to this warped moral high ground you have with your pinkies. Just let go. Live for once. I thought that's why you moved out there anyway. To live your own life however you want.” 

“It is.”

“Then fucking live it.” 

Your friends' words worm their way into your brain, spreading like a disease. You get high to quiet the voice but that doesn’t work like you want. You end the night curled up on the couch with your book, not even reading the words on the page. No. All you can do is think about Eddie and those four damned words. 

Then fucking live it

The days fade into even colder nights. You don’t see Eddie as much as you normally do, but he comes over every now and then to catch you up on how busy he’s been. He’s looking at you differently now, eyes lingering for too long. You don’t notice it at first, his constant heavy stare, more intense then his usual playful one and always on you. 

He’s touching you more. Something your brain noticed after the fifth time the back of his hand grazed across your arm or hip or thigh. It made your whole body light up like a fucking Christmas tree. 

His birthday whirls around. 21. He gets so drunk you find him laid out on his porch on your trip to the mailbox the next morning. His uncle sits on the steps smoking a cigarette, a fond smile on his face. 

He’s back to losing his key and hanging around your trailer by the time graduation comes around. You watch him walk the stage in his green cap and gown, sitting right next to his uncle who sheds a silent tear. Eddie flips his principle the bird after snatching his diploma from his hands. A group of kids cheers rowdily to the left of you, whooping and hollering, and Eddie stands at the edge of the stage with his arms spread wide soaking it all in. 

You don’t expect to see him that night, figured he’d be too busy partying with his friends, so it comes as a shock when there's a knock at your door quarter past eleven. 

“Hey, princess.” He says when you answer the door. He’s leaning against your porch railing with a distinct smile on his face. It reads trouble and you are absolutely smitten. 

“Hey, you. What’s up?” The screen door between you two does nothing to block the early spring breeze from invading your trailer.

“Lost my key.” He says simply. 

“Oh, you did, huh?” You bite back the smile that wants to break across your face. You can tell he’s lying. Can see the little twinkle in his chocolate buttons eyes. 

“Misplaced the damn thing again.”

“You have a problem, Ed.” 

“I need your help, Miss.”

It nearly knocks you off your feet, the tremor in his voice, the desperate pleading cut with a playfulness that short circuits your brain. Eddie smirks, hand reaching towards the door handle. You beat him to it, locking the screen door as he goes to pull it open.

“What do you want, Eddie? I’m about to go to bed.” The tension is too much. If you let him in… 

If you let him in, nothing will be able to stop you. 

“You’re just gonna let me freeze out here?” He whines, dramatically shivering in his leather jacket, vest, and red flannel. 

“Nice try.” You step back, starting to close the inner door when his hand slaps against the aluminum siding of your trailer, trying his hardest to catch your attention before you fully shut him out. 

“I'm starving. I-I’ll sleep in my van but can I just borrow some bread, and peanut butter, and maybe some jelly?” 

And just like that, you finally feel some semblance of control over this boy who makes it his goal to drag the desire out of its dark hidey hole deep within your chest.

Except, it’s not that deeply hidden. Not now. Not after all this time fighting to not feel this way for him. You know you shouldn’t let him in. He’s in a mood, you could tell the second you saw him, and you’re so pent up and horny you're destined to snap. To give in to this unholy feeling that's slowly suffocating you.

But he’s hungry and he’s pouting and giving you those lost puppy eyes…

You unlock the screen door and walk to the kitchen, knowing he’ll trail behind. He always does. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. I thought my stomach was gonna eat itself.” 

You slam through your cabinets and fridge as he stands in the center of your small kitchen. You carry your small load to the kitchen table, dropping the food into a messy pile. Bread, lunch meat, lettuce and tomato, a jar of mayonnaise and a bottle of mustard. 

“You can make it yourself, ya?” You ask and Eddie nods happily. 

“So much better than a PB&J.” He says excitedly, sitting down at the table. You hand him a plate and a knife and decide now would be a good time to finish washing your dinner dishes. 

Time passes quietly. The steady voices from the TV, Eddie’s soft groaning as if this sandwich is the best thing he’s ever eaten. It’s not as difficult to control yourself as you thought it was. But of course, you two aren’t speaking. The mood changes when Eddie opens his mouth. 

“Can I have a drink?” He asks hesitantly, mouth half full and a piece of lettuce hanging out the corner of his mouth as he chews. 

You pop open the fridge and grab one of the sodas you’d bought for him a couple weeks ago. You set it in front of him with a gentle smile. 

“Thanks.” 

It’s a quiet dance, the way his hand somehow brushes your bare leg as you walk back towards the sink. You know he hears the way your breath hitches. Know he has his eyes on you even with your back turned.

He’s cleaned up his mess by the time you’re done with the dishes, wiping your hands off on a dish towel when he makes his way back from the bathroom. You can faintly smell your mouth wash on his breath as he leans next to you to place his plate in the sink.

“I’ll wash it.” He says, looking down at you with a brazen look. The control you felt earlier instantly dissipates. 

“Okay.” 

“You look nice.” 

You roll your eyes at this, partially because it didn’t take him very long to fall back into his flirting but also because these little words really do something for you. All bets are off. If he pushes again there's no doubt you’ll give.

“Just a shirt and shorts.” You say back as he rinses the plate off. 

“Still,” When he’s down he collapses in the kitchen chair with a grunt, digging for his cigarettes he knows he can’t smoke in your house. “I think you look beautiful. Always.” 

“Are you full?” You decide to change the subject. 

“Very. Thank you.” He's quiet for a minute, flicking the wheel on his Zippo as he stares at you. And then, “I’d make you feel better than anyone ever has.” 

You hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare feet kicking against the pale yellow cabinet door, eyes lingering on him from where he sits. His legs are splayed wide, the muscles in his thighs straining against the overly washed black denim. 

“Getting ahead of yourself there, bud.” 

“Am I?” He asks as he sits up slowly, moves as lithe as a snake sizing up its prey. In an instant his whole demeanor has changed. He settles his elbows on his knees, levels you with a pensive look. His dark eyes narrow, but his grin widens and the contrast between the two makes you shiver. 

“You are.” 

“I’m not a virgin.” He says back quickly, a bite to his voice that doesn’t go amiss and you chuckle. He doesn’t like that, you can see it in the way his eyebrows wrinkle at the bridge of his nose. 

“Never said you were. You’re just young, Eddie, and I’m not a high school girl who doesn’t know any better.” Okay, so maybe you weren’t going to allow yourself to give in so easily. Where’s the fun in that?

He chuckles dryly as he raises from his seat. He steps in front of you, not touching, but his hands fist at his sides like he wants to. Like he longs for it. 

“Bold of you to assume I even mess with those high school girls.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, the groupies that hang out at The Hideout? Wait at the stage to tell you how good you are with your fingers?” There’s more bite to your words than you intend but if it fazes him he doesn’t seem to show it. His hot rough palms find the chilly hills of your kneecaps, his eyes flickering down to the exposed skin as he smooths his thumb there, before he’s locked back onto your withering gaze. 

“You sound jealous, Sweetheart.” 

And you laugh at this, a quick belly laugh that has your head falling back against the cabinet behind you. You laugh because you are fucking jealous and you hate yourself for it. You shouldn't be jealous of your freshly twenty-one year old neighbor burying his cock into a pussy that isn't yours. But fuck, it sears through you like a hot knife, made even worse as he eclipses the space that's left between you two. 

“I’m not jealous.” You scoff while your body is ravaged with the flames of his touch. “I’m sure you’ve fucked any girl that let you put your hands up her skirt. But I’m not some easy little girl.” 

“A woman.” His voice is entirely mocking as he ignores the hateful crassness in your words. 

“Yeah, a woman, and it takes more than some sloppy head and eager dick to make me come.” 

He settles himself between your legs, hands sliding up the expanse of your thighs until his fingertips dig into the flesh right below the hem of your little sleep shorts. He leans in, the smell of the weed he must have smoked before he came over lingering on his clothes and hair; the smell strong enough to have you feeling intoxicated. 

Or, maybe that was all him. 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, sweetheart.” You want to wipe that smug grin away, slap him across his pretty face so he stops this before it goes too far, but one quick intrusive thought sends your mind into a tizzy. 

He’d like it. Little fucking masochist. 

“I’m not some innocent little kid, baby, I’d fuck you so good you wouldn’t remember your name.” 

As sexy as he sounds, as good as it sounds, you roll your eyes at his self assuredness. This sweet boy, the same boy that's confided in you about his past with tear filled eyes and spent hours blabbing about his DnD campaigns, saying he’d fuck you like an animal just feels so absurd. Yet it arouses you just as much, has your panties damp and sticking to your slick folds.

“You say that to all the girls you fuck?” 

“See; jealous.” He hisses back, eyes so dark and blown wide you can barely see their beautiful umber color.  

“Not jealous.” You shake your head, eyes begging to look away from his intense stare down, but you can’t. You’re trapped in his hypnotic slow blink as his eyes flash to your pursed lips. 

“I think you’re lying.” He argues, a harsh whisper as his head tips against yours. Your breath leaves in a choked rush when he nuzzles his nose into the side of your head, teeth nipping your earlobe. 

“Eddie.” You warn weakly, your hand splayed against his firm chest as you go to push him away, but Eddie has other ideas. He snatches your wrist up in a tight grip, guiding your hand slowly down his stomach until you're cupping his hard bulge. He’s hot under your touch and you both gasp in unison when he squeezes your hand against the heavy ridge of him under his denim. 

“Eddie…” You try again halfheartedly, head knocking against his as his cock twitches at the breathy whimper of his name. 

“Do you see what you do to me? You make me so hard." He rolls his hips up, drags his hard cock over your palm. His moan rumbles like thunder in his chest. “Want you so bad, I know you want me too.” 

“It’s not gonna happen, Eddie.” You whisper back, try with all your might to steel yourself, to make your words sound steady and sure. You want to. Fuck, you really really want to. But there's still that part of you attempting to resist the burning flames of desire. “You’re a kid.” 

“I’m not a fucking kid.” He growls, grips the underside of your knees to drag you further into him. You can feel him against the inside of your thigh, hot and pulsing and begging to be touched. 

“It’s wrong, Eddie, please.” Your hands are braced against the counter as he presses his forehead to yours, pushes against you until your back is arched. Your core presses against his cock in the most agonizing way in this new position, stealing the breath from your lungs as he hovers his lips over yours. 

“But it feels so good. Stop pushing me away. I’m a grown ass man, sweetheart.” His teeth drag quickly against your bottom lip and as he pulls away you chase after unconsciously, needing his touch -his taste- as much as he needs yours. 

“Fuck, you’re not making this easy for me. I have morals, you know.” You’re whining, head rolling to the side as he slowly starts to grind his hips into yours. 

“Oh, your poor morals.” His hand is gripping your jaw in an instant, fingertips digging almost too roughly into the soft hollow of your cheeks. “You’re so sure you’re gonna corrupt me, which is laughable. Don’t you see, baby?” Eddie soothes his thumb across your bottom lip, drags it down till it bounces gently back in place. 

“I want you to corrupt me. Use me. Teach me everything you know, everything you want, so you’ll never need anyone but me.” 

His words hit you square in the chest but he doesn’t give you a second to interrupt. He has a point to prove and nothing will stop him now. 

“I know you feel it, this thing between us that I felt the moment I saw you in that sexy little robe and your muddy rain boots. That night changed everything for me. You’re the only person who really sees me. I know it. Just like I know how hard it’s been for you. Resisting me, telling yourself how wrong it is and then moaning my name when you touch yourself in the dark of your room while I’m right down the hall. You can’t deny the cold hard truth, Sweetheart.” 

Your eyes widen as you pull away from him. He lets you create space, lets you digest the bomb he just dropped on you. He’d heard you that night. You’d been so careful, so quiet. At least you thought you had. 

“Tell me you want me. Let me make you feel good, baby. I know you need it. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Since someone has touched you; since someone made you come.” He’s so sure of himself. So sure that he’s hit the proverbial nail on the head. That he’s got you all figured out. You’re torn between giving him credit for being so observant and being pissed that he’s using it against you. But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself to be swept off your feet by someone. So long since you’ve felt a touch other than your own and here he was offering himself up on a silver platter with the promise of rocking your world. 

What was the use in fighting something that you both equally wanted? Two consenting adults giving in to the burning flames of desire. 

“Eddie-” He cuts you off quickly, his hips still against you, his hands digging into your fleshy hips. 

“Please, give me a chance.” His voice begs, thick with need and worry. He doesn’t want to go back to being alone if you say no. He’s well aware that the words leaving his mouth and the grip he has on you changes everything. 

“Eddie.” You grab him by the tattered collar of his flannel, pull him in until your lips brush his. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He wastes no time slamming his lips to yours in an eager sloppy kiss. You kiss him back, waiting for him to slow his pace, to calm down a little, but he just presses himself closer and grips the back of your neck in a shaky hold. The blunt crescent of his fingernails digs into the sensitive skin of your neck. His other hand leaves its bruising grip on your hip to hold you tight to him, chest to chest, hearts pounding in tandem against one another. 

You let him lead, let him find his groove. Sloppy wet kisses turn slow and true, his nose bumping yours, his tongue licking into your mouth tantalizingly. The first time he does it you whimper, sure that if you had been standing you would have been weak in the knees. But you’re still locked onto the counter top, thighs clenched tightly around his waist, the heel of your foot digging into the backs of his thighs. You fought this for so long. One taste and now you’re not sure if you can let him go. 

But that’s something to think about another time and not when Eddie has a handful of your breast, thumb rolling tight circles around your pebbled nipple that pokes through the fabric of your shirt. 

“I knew you fucking wanted me.” He teases once he pulls away, a string of spit collected against kiss swollen lips. His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are ruddy and he looks so god damn beautiful in the soft lighting of your kitchen. 

You know there's no stopping you now. No going back. You were always just preventing the inevitable. You want him, you always have, and here he is serving himself up on a silver platter.

"Shut up and fuck me already, you punk."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .6

Masterlist

a/n: Hi everyone, thanks again for your patience! This chapter is a little shorter and there's not as much dialogue as there is a lot of dancing. I had a lot of fun researching some of the dances for the Nutcracker ballet, and while I hoped to have this chapter up by Christmas, March 1st isn't so bad either 😅

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom attends noelle's recital

word count: 2,759

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

Tom wasn't so sure how he found himself sitting across from Noelle's family at a local breakfast eatery, somewhere along his morning Franca had insisted that he come along. And it went without saying that he was grateful for the meal, it had been a while since Tom had the privilege of eating out while on his student budget.

Maurice was an investment banker who worked for a smaller banking branch in Maine, tall with a shiny bald head, a seasoned gentleman of respectable stature with deep smile lines and wise eyes. Meanwhile Franca was an architect, a lavish yet simply dressed woman with long auburn hair, and freckles were scattered across her cheeks and nose. Chiara was a couple years younger then Noelle, her curly hair was much more reminiscent of her mother's but it was easy to draw facial comparisons between the cousins. She was a senior at some fancy private school, and whatever was on her phone proved to be much more interesting then conversation with the table crowd.

"So, Tom," Maurice looked to him as he stirred his tea, "Have you always wanted to get into show business?" he asked.

"Not at first," Tom replied, "I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do at first, but my mum signed me up for some drama classes and my father worked in the film industry, so it all just kind of fell into place,"

"And where'd you grow up in England?" Franca asked, resting her chin on her locked fingers.

"York,"

"Oh, lovely! It's just North of Leeds, yes?"

"That's right,"

"Maurice and I were debating where to go for our fifteenth wedding anniversary, and I've heard such lovely things about that town," she said, "Alas, we settled on Marseilles and toured a bit through Southern France,"

"That sounds beautiful!" Tom awed, glancing Noelle's way, "Did you go, too?"

Noelle shook her head, "Nope, Chiara and I were manning the house for two weeks," she replied.

"It was so peaceful," Chiara added, her gaze still fixed on her phone. Maurice cleared his throat abruptly, staring down his daughter as she swiftly got the hint and put her phone away.

"Anyway," he then grumbled, "What do you want to do when you graduate, Tom? Theatre? Movies?"

"Movies, ideally. But I'd be open to wherever the wind blows me," he replied.

"I went to see his improv show last week," Noelle said, "He was really good!"

Tom shrugged, praying his cheeks wouldn't tinge, "I -- I mean I was okay..."

Noelle cocked her head down, giving him a playful glare, "Oh, c'mon. You were great. And I say so, so it must be true," she grinned. He couldn't help it then, Tom averted his gaze to his plate but nonetheless he was blushing.

Chiara scoffed under her breath, "You two are just adorable," she muttered sarcastically.

Tom watched Noelle roll her eyes, never the less her fingers fidgeted as she went to pick up her coffee cup. A sip of something to quell his dry throat sounded like a good idea, a pleasant cooling off before Tom could find himself swept up in the memory of that kiss yet again.

"Anyway," Franca cut in, "How's Bianca doing, Noelle?"

"Good!" Noelle nodded quickly, thankful the spotlight was off her for the moment, "She made it Maine just before the snow storm hit,"

"Is she gonna be back in time for the showcase?" Chiara asked.

"She's supposed to be back the morning of,"

Tom raised a brow, "Why didn't she leave after the showcase?" he asked.

Noelle shrugged listlessly, "She likes Christmas in Manhattan better,"

"-- Is Derek gonna come down?" Chiara asked, her interest seemingly peaking more than it had all morning. Derek was Bianca's older brother, as Noelle had told previously.

"I guess we'll find out," Noelle replied.

Maurice's gaze narrowed, "And if he were, what would you have in common with a twenty-six-year-old college drop out, anyway?" he asked gruffly.

Franca swiftly elbowed her husband, an urgent smile plastered to her lips as she stared him down pointedly, "Perhaps we can find something more relevant to talk about?" she suggested, turning back to Tom, "Have you been to any of the ballet recitals, Tom?"

Tom shook his head, "I haven't yet. This will be my first," he replied.

"We're so excited to see it. This will be Noelle's first big part in a production," she beamed.

Maurice nodded along, cutting into his egg-white omelette, "She's our little Sugar Plum Fairy!" he awed. None of them paid attention to Chiara's eye-roll.

Noelle grimaced, a bashful grin befalling her as Tom turned to her, "You didn't tell me that," he said.

She shrugged back sheepishly, "... Oh... didn't I?" she chuckled.

"No, you did not," he drawled back, "That's fantastic!"

"Well -- I still have a lot of practice to do before Friday, so we'll see," Noelle didn't like drawing too much attention to herself in that rhetoric. She was grateful for the opportunity, though nevertheless she knew the recital wasn't all about her.

"Are you gonna do her makeup, Chiara?" Franca asked her daughter.

Chiara shrugged back, glancing at her cousin, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Of course I do!" Noelle nodded, "I'm no where near as good as you,"

"Alright, sure then," Chiara barely got the words out as she turned to her phone once again.

Maurice took the conversation again, folding his hands before his plate and twitching his nose, "Tom, why don't you join us on Wednesday? We reserved a box for four,"

"It'll be a great view of the stage," Franca added.

Tom was flattered, though he didn't want to impose, "Oh, I don't -- I don't want to intrude on you guys like that,"

Franca shook her head, "Please, it's not intruding if we invite you -- that's what my mother always used to say, anyhow," she chuckled.

"Have you bought your ticket?" Maurice asked.

"Yes," Tom replied.

"Well then, you're already set up," he told him, "I insist, and we can head out for dinner after,"

Tom turned to Noelle, her smile was bordering on confident, but she hoped that he wouldn't feel too pressured. After all, she knew her family could be a bit much and they had all only just met. But he didn't see the harm; her family was so nice and the view of the stage was promised to be excellent. And if it meant having a better view of Noelle, who was he to pass that up?

"Alright, if you're sure I'll be happy join you," he decided.

Friday was the twenty-third, and despite Christmas Day being just around the corner, the hustle and bustle of New York never stopped. Neither did the cold. It hadn't snowed again but the nefarious east coast arctic fronts swept through the streets; icicles were formed off of passing trucks and the sidewalks and roads were awash in various colours of crushed melting salts. And the cold certainly didn't deter eager shoppers to tick off last minute Christmas gifts from their lists.

Tom wasn't sure what he was supposed to wear to a ballet recital, he didn't want to overdress but he certainly didn't want to look sloppy either. His mum had shipped over some more clothes a couple weeks prior, nicer slacks, dress shirts, a couple pairs of shoes that definitely weren't ice-friendly. Nevertheless, he settled for a white t-shirt and blazer jacket sat over some dark jeans, and his trainers that at least wouldn't send him skidding with one wrong move.

The last few days had flown by rather quickly, and surprisingly, Tom always found that he had something to do. Usually hanging out with Jordan; he introduced Tom to a plethora of video games ranging from Super Mario to Zelda. It was one of the few things Tom found Jordan didn't complain about. And when they weren't inside playing video games, they were out exploring Times Square.

And this worked out quite well because when Noelle wasn't spending time with her family, she was always rehearsing. But in the evenings they would spend time together, watch more movies and just relax. Tom was practicing his cooking skills as well, nothing too fancy but he perfected how to cook salmon in a pan and boiling rice. Noelle was grateful too, especially as her muscles ached from her practice. The more time they spent together, the more fascinated they became with each other.

The campus was typically closed for the holidays, making exceptions for shows such as this. Audience members were lined up just outside the auditorium door, shielded from the cold within campus but still bundled up in long or heavy coats, scarves and hats.

Tom found Noelle's family already settled in their balcony seats, Franca spotted him first and waved him down. And just as Maurice had said, there was an excellent view of the stage from their spot. The heavy red curtain was drawn over the stage, dim mood light reflecting off the material and back on the shadowy faces mingling in the crowd.

Backstage meanwhile was a calamity mess, stage hands rushing to finish prop placement, sets, and stage cues. The ballerinas were also making their last minute touch ups, makeup, hair, tutus, dusting their slippers in rosin and some even sewing their tights and ribbons to their slippers to keep everything snug and in place. Noelle however was dawdling behind the curtain, peaking out through the sliver at the side to skim over obscure faces.

It was a delicate balance, trying to locate her family without being too conspicuous, but after a bit of searching, she spotted them. Chiara was engrossed in her phone, bathed in the soft glow of the screen, while Uncle Maurice struggled to free himself from his coat. Aunt Franca was deep in conversation with Tom, who, despite the dim lighting, seemed to blend into the shadows effortlessly, though he appeared to be holding his own in their lively discussion. Noelle's stomach was aflutter, not from the performance unfolding before her, but from the sight of Tom. Her attention was fixed on him, and the magic of the evening's entertainment paled in comparison.

"Noelle!" Stanis' voice bellowed behind her, he was storming her way as Noelle turned, "Pre-show in two minutes!"

Tom found Franca fascinating. She was a captivating woman, full of vibrant tales from her travels to exotic locales. Her stories were peppered with encounters with intriguing characters from whom she had negotiated for unique souvenirs to add to her collection. Nevertheless, Tom's anticipation grew as he eagerly awaited the start of the show. His eyes couldn't help but flicker towards the curtain, eager to catch a glimpse of Noelle as the curtain would lift. His curiosity and excitement were palpable, adding to the charged atmosphere of the evening.

And sure enough the lights dimmed down to near darkness, a single spotlight illuminating a spot on the curtains. The theater was alive with excitement as the curtains rose, revealing a beautifully adorned stage set for "The Nutcracker" ballet. Tom sat back in his seat, his eyes wide with anticipation, taking in the magical scene unfolding before him. The stage was transformed into a winter wonderland, with a backdrop of snow-covered trees that stretched up to a starry sky. The stage was lit with a soft, moonlit glow, casting a magical aura over the scene. Glittering snowflakes fell gently from above, adding to the enchantment of the setting. The dancers moved gracefully across the stage, each step perfectly choreographed to Tchaikovsky's enchanting music.

The Miniature March Dance began, and the stage came alive with the lively and charming movements of the young dancers. They moved with precision and grace, their movements synchronized to the playful notes of the music. The choreography was intricate, with the dancers forming intricate formations and patterns, showcasing their skill and talent. Tom was captivated by the youthful exuberance of the performers, as were the audience, and the dance brought a smile to everyone's face.

As the performance unfolded, Tom found his eyes repeatedly drawn to Noelle, who gracefully moved among the dancers. Clad in a celestial white gown, she seemed to float across the stage, her every movement a dance of ethereal beauty. While she was currently a background presence in the performance, Tom couldn't help but be mesmerized by her presence, captivated by her effortless grace and enchanting allure.

Next came the Arabian Dance, and Bianca took centre stage. A hush fell over the audience. She was a vision of grace and lithe elegance, moving with a captivating fluidity that mesmerized all who watched. Her every movement was deliberate and confident, exuding a subtle but undeniable aura of cockiness.

Bianca's performance was a masterclass in control and precision, her movements perfectly synchronized to the haunting melody of the music. As she danced, she seemed to command the stage, drawing the audience into her world with a confident allure that was impossible to ignore. The Arabian Dance was no easy feat and Tom had to give Bianca credit where credit was due, however he couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved as her gaze always seemed to land on him time and time again.

Soon enough it was Noelle's time to shine. As the familiar notes of the Sugar Plum Fairy dance began to fill the theatre, Tom's gaze was immediately drawn to Noelle, who had taken centre stage. She looked radiant in her tutu, rose gold detailing shimmering in the lights, her gorgeous long hair tied back in a sleek up-do, and a delicate, shiny tiara placed upon her head. She looked like a true princess, her every movement a testament to her skill and grace. Despite the beauty of the dance unfolding before him, Tom found it impossible to tear his eyes away from Noelle, his admiration for her growing with each passing moment.

Noelle, for her part, felt a mixture of nerves and excitement as she danced. She had dreamed of this moment for years, to prove herself worthy of the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and now that it was finally here, she couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous excitement. However, as she danced, it wasn't the perfection of her performance that consumed her thoughts, but the way her stomach fluttered with butterflies every time she caught Tom's gaze. It was a feeling unlike any other, a mix of joy, nerves, and she could see the admiration and affection in his gaze, which both thrilled and humbled her.

As the dance reached its climax, Tom found himself holding his breath, completely captivated by Noelle's performance. She danced with a grace and elegance that took his breath away, her every movement a testament to her talent and dedication. He couldn't help but think back to the moments he had seen her exhausted, bruised, and drained after long hours of practice. He could only imagine the dedication and hard work she had put in to reach this point, and it filled him with a deep sense of admiration for her. All those late nights and early mornings had led to this moment, and as he watched her graceful movements across the stage, he felt a swell of pride knowing that he had witnessed a small part of her journey to this incredible achievement. He swore he could've watched her -- become lost in her -- forever.

As the final notes of the dance faded away and Noelle took her bow, the audience erupted into applause, but Tom's eyes never left Noelle, his adoration for her greater than ever. She glanced up briefly, trying desperately not to become so overwhelmed with the applause, and her gaze fixating on Tom once more. His beaming smile was all the validation she needed in that moment.

The show progressed on, right up until the final Pas de Deux between the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Nutcracker. Tom watched among the crowd, his heart racing with a realization that took him by surprise. In that moment, he couldn't deny the truth to himself any longer. Watching her dance, he had felt something more than admiration or friendship. It was a crush, a flutter of emotions that he had been trying to ignore but now couldn't deny. Tom realized that he had developed feelings for Noelle, captivated by her everything. And if the previous few days had been anything to go by, there was a slim chance that she too felt the same way.

If only his own uncertainty wouldn't hold him back.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the hunger games x reader #original story #original female character #original series #imagines #imagine blog

[quitefair]

The Temple of Mythal and Greek Sculpture

Or: How Bioware takes from history without any nuance.

--

Picture this. You're me, playing Inquisition for the first time. You get to the Temple of Mythal, the doors shut behind you and you finally get to look around. It's a typical elven ruin for the game, nothing much seems different...

Hold on.

Hold the fuck on.

You know what that is.

You know what that's based on, and for a long time after it tickles you. Oh, maybe that meant something in the grander scheme of things! We've never seen such a blatant reference to a real-life sculpture anywhere else in game (to my knowledge at the time)! Maybe it'll come up later and it'll all make sense!

Here's the deal. I've been bothered by this for years. The more I think about it, the more angry I become. Anger over a single fucking type of statue, you say? There's a lot of other shit to be angry over in this game, and you choose this?

YES! I CHOOSE THIS! AND THIS IS WHY.

--

Picture this. You're me again, aged 14 this time. You're in the Louvre, the first museum of Western classical art you've ever been to. You've grown up in a place where this interest could only be cultivated from extra-curricular reading, and for a kid that age from my country to be ass deep in Greek and Egyptian myth is frankly lmao. Neurodivergent. Anyway.

So we're wandering around the Louvre, I've just taken my parents through the Egyptian section and given them a thorough infodump on everything I know about burial rites.

And then we enter this room. And I very nearly fall to my knees when I catch sight of her.

This is the sculpture the statues at the Temple of Mythal are based on - one Winged Victory of Samothrace.

She is a sculpture from the Hellenestic era, depicting the goddess Nike stood at the prow of a ship. Her head and both arms are missing, save one hand with two fingers (also in the Louvre but displayed separately). She was found on the Greek island of Samothrace, among the ruins of what was known as the Sanctuary of the Great Gods. It seemed like she was displayed at the top of a hill, looming down at all that regarded her.

I’ve had the absolute privilege of seeing her in person twice in my life, both before and after the 2013 restoration. And let me tell you, regardless of which staircase that leads you there, the sight of her will stop you in your tracks.

[Now with people, for scale.]

She is massive. Larger than life, and immediately is the centre of your attention. It's not the fact that she has no head, no arms. No, you will realise the closer you get to her, the more you're able to appreciate the details of this absolutely astounding piece of history.

No. It's because she feels so alive.

The way her robes drape against flesh, wet from sea-spray or rain, yet flowing with the motion of an invisible wind. The wings cast behind her dramatically as her right foot steps forward. Standing tall and proud, unflinching, unbowed against the elements. Even without her arms, you can feel how dynamic the torso and legs are.

You don't need to be an art historian, or even have any knowledge of Greek myth or art history to stand in front of her, as I once did as a young teen, and nearly be brought to tears.

So.

This brings me to the first of the two main gripes I have with the way this sculpture is used in Inquisition.

Compared to the way she's displayed in the Louvre, and also presumably how she was presented to her original audience - larger than life, looming, powerful, beautiful - she is relegated instead to smaller, repeating statues of the same nature throughout the temple.

This diminishes the purpose of the original sculpture, which was to instill a sense of awe and wonder. The singularity that forces you to focus and appreciate the scale and intricacy. The aura, the gravitas of having a single, massive sculpture of such a dynamic figure is completely gone.

And to make things worse, they Mythal-ify her. Adding a helmed head and changing her beautiful feathered wings to leathery dragon wings. They don't even add arms, which is odd because the original sculpture very clearly is missing its arms.

And, may I ask, Why?

It feels cheap, like they saw the Winged Victory and were like 'oh shit this is a cool sculpture, we should add it in game' without giving any fucking thought to what the sculpture means.

Which brings me to the second gripe. The complete disregard for the symbolism of the Winged Victory.

Detail from the Athena fountain, Parliament Building of Vienna, showing Nike the Winged Victory in the palm of Athena's hand [source]

Nike is a minor Greek deity, said to be the daughter of Pallas (a Titan) and the river Styx. Her other siblings by the same parents include Zelus (Zeal),  Bia (Might) and Kratos (Strength).

Yes. That Kratos.

She was one of the earliest gods to pledge her allegiance to Zeus in the Titonomachy, and after the victory of the Olympians, Nike and the other gods that allied with them were allowed to live on Olympus. In her aspect as Victory, she is closely associated with several of the major Greek gods, and in particular, Athena.

There's also her Roman counterpart, Victoria. This version doesn't come with the backstory Nike has, but is more of a general concept of victory. This is the aspect that is present in a lot of the modern sculptures and interpretations of Nike/Victoria:

Left: Detail from the Berlin Victory Column. Right: Detail from the Victoria Memorial, London. Note the similar iconography, of a woman seemingly standing against a strong wind, fabric and cloth adhering and yet flowing against the breeze, wings outstretched.

From this, we can probably extrapolate what our beloved Winged Victory might've looked like. Here's an artist's render of one possibility:

There's some iconography we need to go through before moving on - symbols that are commonly associated with Nike/Victoria.

One is the trumpet as see in the reconstruction above, the sound and symbol of the end of war, of impending peace. Another is the laurel wreath, another Greek symbol of victory and achievement. Famously, laurel wreaths were used to crown victors of the original Olympic games.

This is another conversation entirely, but there’s a discussion to be had about the duality of Elgar’nan and Mythal, in term of vengeance and justice, and how an emotional rage versus a calculated wisdom can be compared to the difference between the two Greek gods of war – Ares and Athena.

If we can compare Mythal to Athena, in the sense of her wisdom in making difficult decisions, then it’s not a stretch to associate Mythal with the symbolism of Nike, and therefore explain the presence of statues similar to the Winged Victory in her temple.

But since Bioware absolutely did not put this in the game for anything other than the Aesthetic, there’s some problems that need to be addressed.

Mainly in the way in which these statues are scattered throughout the temple. If you wanted static, ominous statues to line the walls as your player characters explore, perhaps have like, I dunno. Less dynamic statues that you reference?

Left: Nike of Paionos, Right: Stele 1 of Las Incantadas

Or maybe instead of statues, have friezes lining the walls. Like this one from the equally iconic Pergamon altar, depicting the Giganomanchy.

It’s the same symbolism, the wings, the smiting of foes and victory of good over evil.

And then perhaps, at the heart of the temple... where, y'know Bioware, lay a body of water sacred to Mythal herself, you could've perhaps done something remarkable. You could then have had the most dramatic and beautiful entrance you’d ever seen.

[Nike, at the iconic Daru Staircase, the Louvre]

It was at this moment that Mythal walked out of the sea of the earth's tears and onto the land. She placed her hand on Elgar'nan's brow, and at her touch he grew calm and knew that his anger had led him astray. - Codex entry: Mythal: The Great Protector

Mythal herself strides out of the Well Of Sorrows, the metaphorical tears of her followers that died and kept their knowledge alive in her name. Her (draconic) wings spread out, (restored) hands outstretched to touch her husband, to calm the rage that nearly destroyed this world.

A symbol of victory against the blind rage of a god against His father, the Sun. A symbol of wisdom and grace, against the violence of hatred. A divine sense of something bigger than anything we could imagine.

There's also the lack of iconography regarding victory, instead piling on some cheap representations of what we think of as Mythal. That's another post entirely on the symbolism of the Elven gods, but if Bioware really wanted to hone in on the Athena/Athena Nike parallels, they might have thrown in the trumpet/laurel/palm leaf symbolism with the statues, alongside the dragon wings.

If this were the case, then maybe, just maybe, Inquisition would’ve then earned the use of this sculpture in the game.

Sources not listed above/Further reading if you're interested

https://www.louvre.fr/en/explore/the-palace/a-stairway-to-victory

https://www.worldhistory.org/article/1412/winged-victory-the-nike-of-samothrace/https://smarthistory.org/nike-winged-victory-of-samothrace/

https://smarthistory.org/nike-winged-victory-of-samothrace/

https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/ancient-art-civilizations/greek-art/hellenistic/a/nike-winged-victory-of-samothrace

#da lore #da meta #mythal #temple of mythal #dragon age #da lore and meta #yo this has been simmering and brewing in my brain for like 8 years now not kidding #and im already neck deep in like..... figuring out the evanuris and trying to tie them into real world mythology and thats super fun too!!! #watch as this consumes and destroys me #my writing

[yuri-is-online]

Jade would be VERY pleased about finally having another club member. I would be happy to listen to him info dump while we look at mushrooms and neat nature stuff.

I let this sit in my ask box for too long but I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a while and then harveston had to go and drop that one line validating my delusions and you've given me an excuse to post it ha

notes: they/them used for Yuu, violence against animals (a bear), swearing at animals (the same bear), Yuu is unnaturally strong (enough to fight a bear), Yuu is implied to have grown up in a forest/woodsy environment, Jade typical blackmail. Other more serious fic can be found on my masterlist here.

Once upon a time, back when you first arrived in this world, you had been unsure how to feel about NRC. Castles existed back home, sure, but ones like this belonged firmly in illustrations or video games; it felt a but nauseating to walk through your wildest dreams brought to life, even if it was exciting sometimes. It was little wonder to you then that the idea of a Mountain Lover's Club was so appealing.

"Did you hike a lot back home?" Trey has that strange smile on his face that suggests you have made him tense somehow.

"Yes. I practically grew up in the woods." The flow of wind through the branches, the smell of fresh rain on the decomposing earth below, all of it wrapped you in a familiar sense of serenity even if the tree line was completely foreign to you. What are men to rocks and mountains after all? You could make yourself right at home here-

"I still don't think you should join." Trey says with all the air of a man who is certainly not telling you something, but the surprising harsh nod of agreement Riddle gives before injecting himself into the conversation convinces you more than whatever Trey had in mind likely could.

"I'm not entirely certain what they do," Riddle has never forbid you from participating in things since you and his dorm-mates brought him back to his senses," but if you want to hike it might be safer if you did it by yourself, assuming you let one of us know when you are going and when you expect to be back. It wouldn't do to have something that brings you so much joy used against you prefect, none of us want that." But he has always expressed concern when he thinks things to be unsafe, and in this case his argument was something you found yourself agreeing with. Hiking is best done at your own pace anyway, why get a club full of self-centered assholes involved in your me time? Though you did wish now they had been a bit more... specific with their concerns. Maybe outlined some of the club's scheduling, but then they would have needed to ask him and in so doing betrayed your interest.

Which would have been much less embarrassing than how Jade actually found out. Because of course he did, was there ever any doubt he would? ~~~~ There is a creek not far up the mountain path behind your dorm you like to rest at when coming back from your adventures. It's a good place to check over the photos on your camera and enjoy the last few rays of sunlight before returning to whatever mess Grim had made in Ramshackle searching for where you had moved all the tuna cans. Sometimes he joined you, and the two of you would have a little picnic up the path a bit further, but that day had not been one of those days. Nor had the day you met this particular nemesis who is staring you down from just across the creek with such a judgmental glance you would think this was a Sunday brunch and not an afternoon meander through the forest.

"The fuck do you want bitch?" You snarl and the bear indignantly sniffs as if to imply she's better than you. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't realize it was my fault your face is so fucking crooked, thought you were just born that way." She huffs again, making a big show of turning her back on you as you rush to get your equipment off and tucked safely out of reach before the skankiest grizzly you've ever met whips around and charges you shrieking something about "how dare you steal her man!!!!" and blah blah blah "I'll show you, you good for nothing hussy!!!!" as if you could actually understand her and this wasn't a three act play you insisted on writing yourself. You weren't even sure this bear was a girl if you stopped to think about it in between punches, not that you really cared. She huffs and makes a valiant attempt to pin you as you snarl and flash your teeth and beat her right back into the creek laughing at what sounds like pathetic winging about "kids these days!!!" and how rude you are for-

A startled noise pauses your match, as you both turn, harsh glares towards a break in the thicket where a very out of place, very surprised looking man stands, hand infuriatingly poised casually at his chin. His infuriating smirk doesn't unfurl until you growl, deep and low reverberating through your opponent just enough that she decides to leave for the day while you are preoccupied.

"Oya, this is a surprise." Jade doesn't move and you stay firm in the creek, body shaking with unspent adrenaline as he decides to move just a bit closer. "If you were that desperate for a sparring partner, I'm sure Floyd would have obliged, animal abuse is not exactly legal you know?"

"What the fuck are you doing here." You spit before you exit the creek, a flash of something darting through Jade's eyes as his gaze darts between you and your pack on the ground.

"Me? I should be asking that of you. The Mountain Lover's Club had to go through quite an ordeal to get permission to leave the school grounds unsupervised..." His teeth begin to show as you crash down from your high, you hadn't actually thought of whether or not you would need to talk to someone other than a friend about where you were going... surely Riddle would have mentioned something if you did? Or did he not think to ask since he wasn't the adventurous sort? "I can't imagine how the Headmage would react to know his ward had been sneaking out to terrorize the local wildlife."

"Hey Brenda started it!" You snap and Jade looks briefly towards the treeline where a very indignant bear is pursing her lips and inspecting her claws, the very picture of innocence if he does say so himself. "She stole my sandwich while I was taking pictures of the sunset!"

"Maybe you should have had someone there to hold it for you." He laughs, finally moving from his spot towards you and your pack, eyes gleaming with familiarity as he looks over your things. "Perhaps, someone who would be willing to... forget about what he just saw if they accompanied him next time?" It's a threat using what gives you joy against you certainly, and you huff indignantly at it but don't deny his request. Jade is an eel of his word, and his joy at doubling the Mountain Lover's Club membership cannot be contained as he ushers you the rest of the way down the mountain, eager to plan your first expedition together.

Not that he intends to ever delete the pictures he took. Your angry face is just too cute.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #<3 asks #jade leech x yuu #jade: why yes my lockscreen is my partner fighting a bear #what do you mean yours can't do that? skill issue :/ #idk this sucks just take it i needed to warm up before working on my longer stuff

[life-is-more-than-just-a-game]

♠️ "Scars don't make you a monster." ♠️

A/N: So, someone gave me this request via direct message and what should I say? I really do like this idea and I'm pretty happy about the fact that I can wrote about it! 🫶🏻

Characters: Niragi

POV: fem!reader ; Fluff

Warnings: Not given.

It's in the middle of the night. I have never been the person who has problems sleeping through the night. Even the biggest noises couldn't stop me from slumbering soundly. In summer, I can leave the windows open and listen to the buzzing and singing of the insects without a care in the world until I drift off into dreamland. Wind and weather don't stop me either. You could say that my body is able to adapt to all the conditions of my environment. So ... even now, when I realize in my sleep that something - more someone - is missing next to me.

I've noticed it all along. Even when I met Niragi again, I had the feeling that he had changed. Not in terms of his appearance- at least that was never the deciding factor for me. Admittedly, when I saw him again for the first time after the witch hunt, I was ... shocked. Because of several aspects. His scars - his burnt skin - was one thing, but seeing him again when I once thought he ... would no longer be with us, that was the crux of my reaction. That I drew in a startled breath. That I looked at him in shock and, of course, in tears, which I had swallowed at that moment. I was ... simply happy. To see that he was still alive.

Anyway, this is the first time I've had to open my eyes in the middle of the night because my body couldn't adapt to my surroundings during sleep. As soon as I went to bed, I had a feeling that something was wrong with Niragi. And it looks like I'm about to find out whether my gut feeling was right or not. Deep down, I already know the answer, but I want to hear it from him. I want him to tell me what's going on in his head right now. How he feels. What is bothering him. If something is bothering him.

Looking thoughtfully at my partner's side of the bed, I gradually start to move, hoping it won't take me long to find him. So, sighing and wearily brushing my hair out of my face, I get up and put one foot in front of the other to look for Niragi, who apparently hasn't even bothered to really hide.

"Niragi, what's wrong?" I rub one of my eyes sleepily and look just as sleepily at the boy standing on the balcony of the building where we've set up camp today. "Come back to bed, it's still pitch dark."

"I can sleep when I'm dead." It's not that I wouldn't expect him to say something like that- but what worries me is the way he says it.

Instead of saying anything, however, I just stand still for a moment and stare over at him. He doesn't even dare to turn towards me when we talk. I don't know him like this at all.

"I'm worried about you," you say in a calm tone as you walk towards him, aiming to stand next to him so you can look over the rooftops of the city with him. "Somehow I don't recognize you anymore," you continue, "where's the Niragi I met at the beach? The one with the big mouth and the high self-confidence, with the will of a leader?" Silence.

A moment later, all I hear is a hysterical giggle, which was obviously not the result of amusement or mirth. No, it sounded ... forced ... and hurt at the same time.

"He's been burned." Such a simple answer, but one with such great significance. "You should really go back to bed now."

"I'm not going anywhere." Determined, I now walk the last few meters towards him, after which I stand next to him. "Not without you." Unlike what I had planned, however, I don't stand so that I can see the loss, dark surroundings, but so that I am facing Niragi directly. "I knew something was wrong with you. I could tell by looking at you. Even yesterday, when you wished me a good night, your eyes betrayed you- so please don't pretend you don't care." Pause. "You are a human being. Not a robot."

"I'm a monster, Y/N!", he yelled at me and I jumped back a little because he turned around so suddenly and unexpectedly to finally look me in the face. "I can't even understand how you could even look at me on the street without throwing up right at my feet!" But just as quickly as he hit the ceiling, he quickly calmed down again.

I am sad. Is that really what he thinks? Does he really see himself as he has just described? As a monster? Oh, I'd love to ask what makes him think that, but I won't. I know the reason. His burns. The scars Chishiya left on him are the reason he speaks so poorly of himself. And it hurts. It hurts to know that a person in whom you see everything wonderful and whom you love for who he is, thinks of himself like that.

"Oh, darlin', that's not true ..." I realize how pitiful I'm looking at him right now, the softer his features become and the more he shows his mental pain to the outside world. "Please, don't say that ... Scars don't make you a monster."

"Just tell me how you can look at me like that without being afraid of me. How you ... how you can hold me in your arms without being disgusted by my skin. Without worrying about hurting me or feeling the need to puke your soul o-" I don't want to hear about that.

I understood the question. He wants answers? He'll get them. My way. The way in which I don't let him speak, but simply put one of my arms loosely around his neck to pull him into a loving kiss that for just a moment - a brief moment - is supposed to make the world stop for him.

Something that seems to work well. At least he abruptly matches my rhythm and wraps his arms around my waist to press me closer to him. To be able to feel me even better. To feel that he is not alone. Will not be alone. And to feel that there is someone who can be there for him and wants to be there.

I ... have to admit that no kiss with him was as beautiful as this one. Niragi is a rough person. He gets what he wants, his kisses were molded to his personality. Ungentle. Lots of tongue and especially biting. All the more reason for me to enjoy the kiss we're sharing right now, because who knows if I will ever experience this again.

Nevertheless, you should stop where it gets most beautiful. Although the really nice part - for him - is probably only now. One answer. An answer that will answer all his questions in one fell swoop.

"I love you," I breathe to him, tilting my head a little to the side as I look up at him and into his eyes. "That's why I can do all this, Niragi, it ... It's not as complicated and complex as you might have thought." I gave him a little smile and I can see it in his face- he's smiling a little, too. "And now come back to bed. You need to rest a bit and give your injuries a treatment. And by the way ... I'm tired and want to go back to sleep." Laughter, which only comes from me, but that's okay- his smile is enough for me. "Plus, I'm in desperate need of a good cuddle from you right now." Now, I can hear him chuckle a little and damn, it's the most beautiful I could ever hear coming out from him.

After another peck on the lips from him, I take him by the hand and walk him back into the building, where a place to sleep is waiting for us. In passing, I hear him say "I don't deserve you ...", which was probably only meant for him. But ...

"If everyone only got what they deserved, they couldn't possibly be happy in their lives, don't you think?"

A/N: Damn, I enjoyed writing this so much. Thanks for you request, stygianoir! Hope you enjoyed reading it as well. 🙈♥️

#alice in borderland imagine #niragi imagine #niragi x reader #niragi suguru x reader #niragi suguru imagine #aib niragi #aib #aib niragi x reader #aib niragi imagine #alice in borderland #niragi #niragi suguru #niragi one shot #niragi fluff #niragi x fem!reader #niragi x you #alice in borderland x you #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland niragi #suguru niragi #niragi alice in borderland #x you #x reader #dori sakurada #imagine #imagines #one shot #short story #niragi suguru fluff #aib fluff

[separatist-apologist]

A Lost Princess of Sunlight

Summary: Lady Elain has spent her life in the idyllic countryside wanting for nothing, so when her adopted sister Vassa begs her to accompany her to court, how can Elain say no? The roguish prince is in need of a wife and Elain, certain she'd make a terrible princess, has no interest in such theatrics.

But something about the palace brings back memories lost to the sea ten years before. Memories Elain had been certain she'd never get back…memories that speak of a colder place, and sisters long forgotten. Amid the tumultuous politics and the looming war, Elain finds herself embroiled in a mystery to find out who she really is.

And where she really comes from.

My humble offering to @writtenonreceipts for the @acotargiftexchange. Am I releasing fewer chapters because I've realized I need more than 7? YesNO STOP ASKING

Thank you again to @velidewrites for the moodboard and making me seem more put together than I am.

Read On AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

-

Elain woke to the sound of something clattering against her bedroom window. Looking up from beneath her blanket, nothing seemed amiss. She was alone, the curtains flung open so the first rays of sunlight would wake her. That was better than servants flooding in, giggling amongst themselves and talking just a shade too loud for her to sleep through. Elain had learned the hard way that most of the working staff did not appreciate being ordered about by people they didn’t know and she hated upsetting people.

So she bathed and dressed herself before they ever arrived, perching herself in a chair by the window so when they arrived, they could set her breakfast down and fuss over her hair before swanning back out. It took all of thirty minutes.

It was silly to not want people she’d never see again to like her and yet Elain did. 

Pressing her cheek back against the satin pillow, Elain was half asleep again when that clacking sound returned to her window. It was a rock, she realized. Someone was throwing rocks at her window. Or birds—that was possible, though it seemed unlikely. 

Scrambling up, Elain wrapped a robe around her night dress and pulled open the balcony door to peer out into the silvery darkness. She ought to have known, because Prince Lucien was standing in the garden, grinning up when he saw her. 

“I was starting to think I had the wrong room,” he whisper-shouted. “Come down.”

“I’m not dressed,” Elain complained, taking in his own casual demeanor. Gone were the jackets, the boots, the pants—replaced by a long piece of white fabric draped across his frame. There was a lot of skin on display, a warning Vassa had given her before they’d ever left. 

That was the style in the capitol which made sense once she experienced the soupy heat. 

So why was her heart racing? “I’m not dressed,” Elain heard herself saying.

Lucien’s grin was visible even in the dark. “So get dressed. I’ll wait.”

“Is that an order, your majesty?”

Lucien slapped a large hand over his chest, staggering backward as though she’d shot an arrow through him. “You wound me,” he cried dramatically. “It’s a request. I want to show you something.”

“So long as you swear to behave yourself.”

“I will be an absolute gentleman,” he swore, grinning once more. “Now come. Hurry.”

Elain turned, dressing quickly just like he’d asked in a breezy green gown. There was no one to help with her hair and cool enough she didn’t feel like she needed to pull the thick curls off her neck, besides. Lucien’s hair had been down, the wind blowing it against his cheek and she thought it might be nice for them both to just be as they were.

It was foolish, but Elain was growing to like the prince. It wasn’t romance—not entirely, anyway. But it was comfortable. Friendship, almost. She felt like she could tell him her thoughts without worrying he’d judge her for them. Besides, ever since Elain had told him about her desire to find out where she’d come from, Lucien had been right there with her. He knew Arina better than Elain did, teasing her for the slowness with which she worked.

Elain had always had Vassa—but no other friends. Acquaintances, certainly, whose company she enjoyed and who enjoyed hers, but not actual friends the way she wished.  Now, though, she felt like maybe she could have friends. A whole life stretched before her if she wanted it. 

Strange, to think that maybe she did. 

Unlike Lucien, who was already outside, Elain had to sneak out the usual way. She was positive someone must have seen her, even if it was just an errant guard or a servant finishing up for the evening. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine, she chanted in her head, but embarrassment had wormed its way into her chest.

She didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about her. 

And she was going to meet the prince alone tonight. There was no one else with him when she found him in the garden, a little leather pouch held in one hand. “I won’t keep you,” he promised, eyes bright when he took her in. “You look…wow. Nice, I mean. Really nice.”

“Where are we going?” she whispered as he reached for her wrist and began tugging her further through the garden.

“Somewhere I hope impresses you,” Lucien admitted with a sly smile. “I promise I will be nothing but a gentleman. My mother would kill me to hear otherwise.”

“Some would argue waking a lady in the dead of night is ungentleman-like behavior.”

“You’ve got me there,” Lucien smiled wider. “I confess, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Elain was suddenly grateful for the night sky overhead given it obscured the flush she knew was creeping over her cheeks. 

“How will you manage to get anything done while I’m here?” she teased, bumping him gently with her shoulder.

“I have been asking myself the same question. Can I tell you a secret?”

“You may.”

Lucien ducked his head, clearly embarrassed by whatever was about to leave his lips. “When mother first told me of her plans, I insisted it was a bad idea. That there was no lady of interest to me. And I suppose this is the gods way of humbling me for my unchecked hubris.”

Elain’s heart thudded in her chest. “You sound awfully certain of yourself. You barely know me, not to mention the others who would love, I’m certain, a secret trip with you.”

He cleared his throat. “And ah…and if I said I didn’t want to get to know them…and only you? How ah…how would you react to that?”

Oh.

“You barely know me,” she whispered, her steps slowing. “You’ll change your mind when you realize how utterly dull I am.”

“I think you’re hoping I’ll change my mind,” Lucien replied, glancing down at her. “But I’m famously stubborn. Once I set my mind to something, there’s no changing it.”

“I would make an awful princess.”

“With that face? The whole kingdom will be in love with you the moment they set eyes on you,” Lucien replied easily, though there was a lingering hesitation to his words. As though he had swallowed some words he wanted to say and knew he shouldn’t. 

“Lucien—”

“Just…allow me to court you, Lady Elain. All the things you imagine as inadequacies are quite charming, if you’ll allow me to say so.

You’ll change your mind. It was on the tip of her tongue and the only thing that kept her from saying so was the earnest way he’d caller in so-called inadequacies charming. He liked her. That was a revelation, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. She just assumed he’d get bored and yet…and yet they continued to walk the neat, stone laid path through the neatly trimmed hedges of the garden. Honeysuckle filled the air, warm and comfortable now that the sun had finally set. Elain’s fingers brushed against tall stalks of lavender, her other wrist still held gently by Lucien’s callused fingers.

“Here,” he murmured, fingers lacing her own as though she needed the help stepping up onto the little dock overlooking a rather large pond. She’d seen it already, though never at night.

During the day there was nothing special about it. Merely crystalline water and bright fish zipping about which was hardly worth noting. Some ladies had sat on the granite benches, fanning themselves from the heat but no one paid any mind to the water.

And what a shame they didn’t. Elain gasped at the bioluminescent purples, blues, and greens now flitting beneath the water. 

“Watch,” Lucien whispered, eyes darting from her to the fish pond. Reaching into his little satchel, he tossed bread into the water. It was a frenzy of rushing water, bubbles, and color all at once.

“Can I?” she asked when the chaos subsided just enough, though the majority of the fish now hovered toward the top like shooting stars, hoping to catch a little treat.

Lucien handed her the little pouch rather than making her reach over his body to get it. She would have…might have let her fingers brush his exposed chest just to see if it was as hard as it looked. She’d never been so close to a man before. They weren’t allowed near her or Vassa on the country estate and knew a stable hand had once been quite taken with Vassa, going so far as to sneak into the house to see her.

Elain never did find out what happened to him. 

She squealed with delight when it was her turn to toss the crumbly bread only to re-begin the frenzied feeding. Lucien inched just a little closer and was he smelling her hair? When she looked up at him, he, in turn, was gazing upward at the stars though she swore there was color decorating his cheeks. 

“What happened to you?” she asked, giving in to impulse, though only to touch his cheek. The trio of scars carved down the half of his face was brutal—she supposed he was lucky he hadn’t lost his eye, too. 

“When I was a boy, my father invaded a kingdom and some of his men killed a princess,” Lucien began, reaching for her own face to hold it gently in his hand. “The other two lived here for a time. I wasn’t supposed to speak to them…but I did. And the youngest sister held me down while the older one tried to carve out my eye. Said it was only fair since my family was responsible for her death.”

“That’s horrible,” Elain whispered, unable to take her gaze off him.

Lucien shrugged. “They only damaged it a little—I’m half blind in this eye, though I suppose one day I might be fully blind. One day, though, when father dies, I hope to go back to the north bearing the scars and see if we can’t end what our families began.”

“It really doesn’t bother you?” Elain questioned. Lucien swept his thumb over her cheek. 

“I suppose it wounds my vanity at times. I’m forever looking for a woman who doesn’t immediately stare at them with horror, trying to figure out if they’re something that can be genetically passed down to future children…or if she’d have to grit her teeth and bear the sight of me.”

“No one thinks that,” Elain insisted. Lucien was so beautiful that the scars hardly diminished it. If anything, they made him lovelier still, branding him a warrior even if the truth behind them was hardly heroic. Before knowing, Elain assumed it must have happened during battle which made him seem fearsome. Brave. 

“I assure you they do,” he murmured, his voice strangely husky. “They lament the loss of my good looks and whisper to their friends about it as though the gossip never reaches my ears. I hear it, though.”

“I like it,” Elain declared truthfully. “It adds character.”

He smiled softly. “I believe that you do, Lady Elain.”

Lucien lowered his face, inching closer and closer until her hand flew to his chest, fingertips pressing into his skin and oh. He was warmer and softer than she’d imagined. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Lucien replied, eyes searching her own. “Unless you’d prefer I didn’t?”

She’d always wondered what her first kiss would be like. Here, beneath a canopy of stars and illuminated by brightly colored fish you could only fully see at night, Elain thought this might be the most romantic evening of her life. She couldn’t speak, lifting her chin to nod just once.

Lucien’s relief was palpable. Had she said no, would he have left? Abandoned his pursuit of her entirely?

She’d never know. Lucien’s lips brushed her own tentatively, as though allowing her one final out. Elain didn’t move, still looking up at him while waiting to see what he’d do next. But she wanted this bad enough to set her teeth on edge. 

Her eyes fluttered shut when his mouth pressed firm against her own. Elain couldn’t explain why, when looking at him was its own kind of pleasure. She needed to feel the moment and somehow that was better done with her eyes closed. 

His mouth was soft—sweet, like amber and honey and something dark and well-spiced. It ought to have been one polite, chaste kiss. Elain suspected that had been Lucien’s original intention when he’d begun. Something sweet enough to convey his very serious interest without taking it too far.

She was the problem right then because it was her fingers that curled into his chest and her feet that stepped closer, surging upward on her tiptoes so she could kiss him again. And Lucien responded, his arm winding around her waist to hold her steady, his hand caressing her cheek. It was just, kissing him felt good, and Elain didn’t want to stop.

Now she understood how ladies were compromised. She’d always figured it was men taking advantage but if someone caught them, Elain wouldn’t be able to pretend she hadn’t wanted what Lucien was offering. And to be fair, all he was doing was kissing her. There was an edge to it—a want that was slowly starting to burn through her. 

It would consume her if she didn’t stop. Elain didn’t want to stop and neither did Lucien, the two locked in their embrace, his lips all but frantic against her own. His tongue teased the seam of her lip and when she opened with a gasp, Lucien tasted her. 

Elain nearly fell backward, her stomach exploding with frantic, excited butterflies. His tongue against her own felt good, surprising and overwhelming all at once. She wanted more, wanted to press herself against him and—

Lucien broke away, gasping for air as his fingers flew to his lips. “I—I shouldn’t…I’m sorry.”

Elain blinked. Did he regret it? “For what?” she replied, her voice equally breathless.

“For taking liberties, I…I swear my intentions are pure. I just…” 

Lost control. So had she. Elain nodded, swallowing hard. The only disappointment she felt was that it was over and she didn’t know when they’d get another moment like this. “I understand.”

He dared a step closer. “Yes. Yes, I think you do. Come on…I’ll walk you back.”

And this time, when Lucien offered her his hand, Elain took it gladly. 

Maybe his attention wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Eris paced back and forth as the sun rose, already dressed. A letter lay before him, half written to the princess of the north. Eris had begun with the usual pleasantries, the lies about her beauty and his obsession but even his poetry annoyed him. Nesta was lovely, sure, but when he’d begun penning those words, he found himself thinking about golden hair and emerald eyes and fuck Helion for employing a woman that looked like that.

A stupid woman who’d been willing to die over a book. Rising from his chair so quickly it toppled over, Eris wondered what was wrong with her? All the while ignoring that this was just a ruse to see her again rather than look for her around the palace. She was never around. Not at banquets or balls or even just walking through the halls.

Did she ever leave the library? Was she even allowed?

Why do you care?

He didn’t. She was obnoxious…and beautiful. And she wasn’t scared of him, which was a wholly new experience for Eris. All woman were a little scared and awed of him. Arina was merely annoyed. Why? Even here, the ladies regarded him with the same deference they paid his miserable half-brother. He supposed he was a decent consolation prize for any self-respecting woman.

Eris didn’t want a wife. Not from the south, or the north, or his own fucking kingdom. He just wanted vengeance, a thought so all-consuming that until recently, he’d never paid women much attention beyond a night in his bedroom. Eris hadn’t had to court someone—they made their intentions known and he merely barked out some orders.

Get on your knees was the usual, though he could be varied from time to time. No one had ever told him no and certainly never held a knife to his throat. He bet, beneath her flippant attitude, she was just as desperate to please as everyone else. And Eris knew the moment he walked back up there, she’d bow and scrape and all his interest would evaporate.

He could write that liars letter to Nesta Archeron.

So up Eris went, ignoring the soft clatter of dishes and the lilting chatter wafting up from the stairs just below. Fingers skimming the marble, his palms were sticky—from the heat.

And nothing else. 

It occurred to him only when he reached the library that Arina was likely to still be in bed. She had that kind of look about her—the same one that he had, he thought ruefully. It was too late to turn back now—he’d already been spotted by two philosophers, arguing over something that had kept them up all night, if the dark circles were anything to go by. 

If he turned back now, Arina would know what a coward he was. And Eris was hardly a coward. If she wasn’t there, he could insult her for her lazy ways. Women loved being insulted, right? He could practically feel his mothers displeasure which only soured Eris’s already bad mood. That mood was made worse when he opened the doors and found Arina sitting in a cushioned window seat with a frown on her face.

It wasn’t directed at him. In fact, Eris might have thought she hadn’t noticed him at all if he hadn’t turned to leave offended by the easy beauty radiating off her and she’d said, “Remind me, prince. A decade ago, what kingdom was invaded?”

“This is a strange insult, even for you,” he replied, gently closing the doors behind him, again, for reasons he couldn’t quite ascertain. “It was the Northern kingdom. Why?”

“No Southern? Not even little border villages?” she pressed, still staring down at a frayed piece of parchment in her hands.  

“That does sound like the kind of barbarity your king would enjoy,” Eris said, if only to get her full attention. Arina really looked at him, then, as if she was seeing him for the first time and it annoyed her. 

“You were privy to the peace talks, were you not?”

“Am I about to teach you about lying?” Eris replied dryly, not bothering to admit he’d been a child when those talks were going on. His father hadn’t allowed him in and everything Eris knew in the aftermath came from the mouths of tutors, and then diplomats. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because…” Arina bit her bottom lip, unaware of how Eris straightened his spine in response. “What are you doing up here?”

Eris blinked. “I came to demand you eat breakfast with me.”

You idiot.

Arina’s lips parted, mouth forming a soft oh. “If this about the other night—”

“It absolutely is about the other night,” Eris hissed, for all the good it did.

“We’re even,” she finished firmly, those eyes flashing. “You’ve done enough and I’m grateful for your intervention.”

“Have you ever killed a man, Arina?” he asked, daring a step toward her. She pulled her knees closer to her chin, still staring him dead in the eye. 

“No,” she whispered, as if admitting some heinous sin.

“Could have fooled me,” Eris conceded, still thinking about her knife against his throat. Why did he like that memory? And why was he adding, “Now it’s my responsibility to correct your inadequacies.” 

“Your—” she spluttered, setting the parchment to the side. “You have no responsibility to me, breakfast or otherwise!”

“So you won’t eat breakfast with me?” Eris asked, thinking that might be the easier sell. And maybe once he’d softened her up, he’d take her somewhere and—no, banish those thoughts before they unmake you.

Her eyes narrowed. “If I decline, are you going to threaten to tell the King what happened?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a bastard. You know that, right?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“You keep telling me so. It’s becoming humbling,” Eris admitted, his relief palpable. In truth, he had no intention of ever telling Helion anything, let alone about Arina. How the Southern King had found himself in possession of her was one thing. Potentially orchestrating her removal or worse was another.

“I don’t believe anything could humble the likes of you,” she declared, rising from her chair to let the verdant gown her wore tumble to her ankles. Golden chain straps criss-crossed against the golden brown of her skin while her hair remained utterly wild and yet somehow perfect—as if she’d woken up and carefully made curly waves of each individual strand. Maybe he was used to the glassy perfection of the women back home.

Or maybe deep down, Eris was jealous of how little she cared if he found anything desirable about her at all. 

“You were going to let yourself die for a book,” he said once she’d set her parchment to her desk.

“He wouldn’t have killed—”

“Yes, Arina. He would have,” Eris replied, his voice colder than he’d intended. “What were you thinking?”

“Why do you care?” was her easy, measured response. Her expression was one of academic curiosity—as if she’d stumbled upon some tangled mystery she hoped to unravel. And that was dangerous given Eris couldn’t find an answer that was dishonest, let alone truthful. 

“What a question,” he murmured instead, gesturing toward the door. 

She followed without complaint, still looking up at him with interest. He wished she’d return to her open dislike. 

“Why are you so interested in the end of the war?” he asked once they were out of her little sunlit office. She was a half-step ahead of him, unaware of how his fingers practically touched her bare spine. 

“Just…an off-handed comment about a survivor from the end of the war,” Arina replied, eyes misting over again. “From some unknown border village close to your realm. I’m trying to determine which village was destroyed but there are no records from that time period.”

“As there wouldn’t be. Our territory had agreed to cover a hundred mile radius between Rhodes and the border,” Eris replied, genuinely curious. “It would have been war with Allsfeld.”

“Perhaps they were mistaken,” Arina murmured, though Eris could see there was no doubt on the mistake—she knew she had the location right, which meant whoever had said so was lying. 

Or not who they said they were. Eris was curious enough not to press her further, nor did he take her into the banquet hall for everyone to witness. He had a suspicion she would hate being the subject of everyone's attention, especially if it was centered around him.

It was easy enough to arrange a little terrace table and have food brought to him, all with a snap of his fingers and a few harshly barked words. ‘

“You could be nicer,” Arina commented, as if there wasn’t fruit and bread and meat all situated before her. 

“I could be a lot of things,” Eris replied without ire. “Tell me more about this mystery village.”

“Why would I bore you with the details?”

“I don’t mind a little boredom.”

Arina sighed, drizzling honey over a piece of bread. “The time must be wrong—perhaps in the chaos, everything has melded together. Or…”

Eris was half grinning. “Or someone is lying. That’s what you think, isn’t it?”

“I could be executed for telling you all this, you know,” she bit back, color warming her cheeks. 

“I think I’ve established I have no intention of betraying you,” Eris replied, surprised by how truthful the words were.

Arina opened her mouth, likely moments from insulting him when her eyes snagged on something behind him. Turning, Eris caught a glimpse of Feyre Archeron rounding a corner, arm looped with some courtier he’d never seen before. Just behind the pair was his obnoxious brother and some guard whose name he didn’t know and didn’t care to know.

Eris shook his head. No, that wasn’t Feyre Archeron. Feyre Archeron was all sharp angles and scowls and this woman bore a strange sort of softness. She was far prettier than the younger Archeron and yet the resemblance…Eris couldn’t take his eyes off her. That was Nesta and Feyre’s hair, their features, their stature. He knew the shape of that face, the fairness, the shade of golden brown hair. 

He blinked and they were gone, vanishing down the open hall before he could truly assess whether he was right. Shaking his head, Eris turned back to his meal to find Arina watching him with mild interest. “Have you spoken to him?” she asked, misunderstanding what had caught him off guard.

That was an Archeron—he was certain of it. An Archeron dressed in Southern fashion but an Archeron none the less. Eris wasn’t the sort to find his guilt manifesting as beautiful women—and he didn’t feel guilty for ignoring Nesta, either. He knew she was entertaining Rhysand as they spoke and if she found him more agreeable, she’d honor nothing for their handshake. 

Eris was hardly a romantic. 

“Is this the part where I bare my soul to you?” Eris asked, his temper rising to the surface. Did she truly think he was about to tell her anything about his family?

Arina shrugged, a gleam to her gaze he swore hadn’t been there before. Her lips curved with a triumphant smile he couldn’t make heads or tails of. What was she so pleased about? 

“Did no one teach you how to woo a woman, Eris Vanserra?”

“Woo—” he spluttered, well aware his face was burning red. 

“Isn’t that what you’re doing? Courting me?”

Was he? Eris hadn’t thought about it, but now that he sat there, staring at her, he let himself imagine another man chasing after her. Fury replaced embarrassment. Well. That was damning, he supposed. 

So, like an absolute idiot, he heard himself ask, “What if I was?”

“You’re off to a bad start,” she said, ducking her head as she reached for a goblet of juice. “Though, I suppose the sunrise breakfast is a nice touch.”

As if he’d planned that out. What could it hurt, Eris reasoned as he stared her down. Inevitably, she’d do something that irritated him, thus severing the attraction he felt and he’d be free of her. And of everyone in this place, she was the most tolerable. The most knowledgeable, too. She could help him navigate the court of vipers that he found himself in, and if he was careful, might even divulge something she shouldn’t. 

There were no downsides. 

“Then yes. I suppose I am.”

There was that smile again. Eris couldn’t make sense of it, though he turned it over in his mind long after she’d departed with nothing more than a kiss he pressed to the back of her hand as he inhaled the sweet scent of vanilla and coconut. It was the look of a woman making a fool of a man. 

It took Eris the entirety of his day, until he was practically undressing, for the realization to come crashing over him.

Clever woman.

He found her just outside the library, clearly about to turn in for the evening. She saw him coming, shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his hair a little wild. “You,” he hissed when he saw her.

Arina grinned. “Oh, prince. I missed you, too.”

“You’re playing games with me,” he accused, earning a pretty laugh. She came to him, ignoring his crossed arms and his scowl. And when she leaned up on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, Eris turned his head impulsively, capturing her lips instead. 

He’d meant to knock her off balance—to even the score between them. After all, she didn’t look as if she kissed very many men and Eris had it on good authority that he was very good at kissing. It hadn’t occurred to Eris, in the split second he decided, that he might like kissing her.

She didn’t do anything in half measures, he’d give her that. Rather than pulling away with a lady’s outrage—or slapping him, which aroused him more than he was willing to admit—Arina kissed him back.

Tentative, at first, eyes wide open to look at him. Is this what we’re doing? Those eyes of hers seemed to demand.

Eris yanked her closer.

Yes, he decided because gods above, she tasted sweet. Her lips parted, allowing him to indulge which was a mistake he couldn’t rectify. It was Eris who groaned, taking a step backward to try and push her against a wall. He wanted more of her, against reason or common sense. He barely knew her.

But he wanted her. 

What would Helion trade, he wondered?

His court would assassinate him if he brought home a foreign wife.

He didn’t care. This wasn’t about marriage, besides. 

It was Arina who pushed him back, lips swollen and out of breath. “What games am I playing?” she half whispered, looking as off-balanced as she had the night he’d rescued her from death. 

Eris had forgotten why he’d come. “You…kiss me again,” he ordered, reaching for her face. Arina ducked deftly, just narrowly avoiding him. “What games am I playing, Eris?”

“The one where you refuse to kiss me again,” he snarled with frustration. “You know.”

“I know a lot of things. Be more specific and I’ll entertain the thought of kissing you again.”

Growling softly, he whispered. “About the princess.”

Arina’s eyes brightened. “I didn’t know. Not for sure—not until just now.”

“This could start a war if the North learned,” he breathed, advancing on her. Eris didn’t give a fuck about Nesta Archeron anymore—and he didn’t care about his own vengeance, either. He only cared about the woman in front of him and all the things he could do to her before the sun rose again. He’d worry about this revelation in the morning. 

“They won’t,” she whispered, letting him wind an arm around her waist. “You’re going to keep this between the two of us for now.”

“Or what?”

She inclined her head. “No threats, Eris. You’ll keep this secret because I asked you to.”

And he knew, deep down, that she was right.

Another day without a letter from the unreliable bastard known as Eris Vanserra. Why had she thought seeking his aid was a good idea, anyway? He was likely too busy cavorting with Southern whores to be of any use to Nesta, who didn’t want such a well-used husband, besides. Not one who had that sort of reputation, at any rate. 

Which made Rhysand a bad option, too. The problem with rejecting the King of Velaris was it left only one good, viable candidate— Graysen Nolan. And Nesta would be damned if she married a Nolan. Bigoted and frankly, a little stupid, Nolan was everyone’s choice for king except hers. This was supposed to be the only alternative path. Graysen was merely a nobleman’s son—Rhysand and Eris were kings, or they would be one day. They came with military might, with land, and all the richest their kingdoms commanded. Graysen could hardly compete. 

Sighing, Nesta plopped onto a bench out in the courtyard, staring upward at a moody sky. Now Eris was gone and Rhysand wouldn’t stop staring at Feyre long enough to even pretend he had a passing interest in her. 

Nesta could arrange Feyre’s marriage—if she hated her sister, which she didn’t—to Rhysand. And in turn, he’d get to whisk her away to the mountains, subjected to his whims which Nesta didn’t think would be cruel, but would certainly be perverted.

And having spent the last week getting to know him, she loathed the thought of making him happy.

Nesta was floundering, her whole life hinging on the decisions of men. It was unfair that she could be better than all of them, the first born of her family and heir apparent, and still be required to get married simply to access the inheritance the rest of them got merely by existing. 

“I’m tired of men,” Nesta announced to the wet footsteps just behind her. 

“All men? Or would you make an exception?” Cassian inquired, sitting on the bench so his back faced her and he faced the palace while she looked out at the courtyard. 

“Especially you,” she lied. He was always looking at her, of course—but he mostly kept his distance. 

He rose to his feet to leave, irritation rolling off him in rippling waves. She almost let him leave but at the last moment, Nesta swallowed her pride and whispered, “Wait.”

Cassian hesitated, the mist pasting the white shirt he wore to his bulky chest. She rather liked seeing him in something other than the menacing armor he wore—he looked like a real man and not a conquering god. She could see how careful he was being—like she was some kind of wild animal and any wrong move would send her fleeing.

He wasn’t totally wrong. 

Though she resented that after a week, he’d figured that out. Stop watching me, she wanted to scream. Why was he the only one who seemed to notice her? “About the sword…”

He couldn’t suppress his smile. “You’re not planning to assassinate my king, are you?”

“I don’t think he’s in danger of marrying me,” he replied, catching the creasing frown on Cassian’s face. Was he blind, or just oblivious? Rhysand couldn’t drag his eyes off Feyre long enough to answer one of Nesta’s inane questions, let alone propose marriage. And Nesta couldn’t help but feel a little relief, though it was mingled with a hearty helping of dread. “Will you?”

Nesta didn’t have time to teach Cassian about Northern politics. If Eris wasn’t going to help then Nesta needed a new tactic—and it didn’t involve cutting Graysen’s throat in his sleep should a marriage contract be drafted between them.

She read. Men overthrew governments all the time. How hard could it possibly be? A good number of nobles liked her at court—if she could call more of the far flung families back, Nesta could spend the summer winning their approval and planting the seeds of dissent. 

Though…she didn’t know if she could kill her father. 

She’d figure it out as she went. For now, not dying in her sleep felt important and it had nothing to do with wanting to see more of Cassian. He was an unwanted, unneeded distraction, besides…and yet…

“Of course,” Cassian agreed, pulling her from her blood-tinged thoughts. “In the morning, just after breakfast.”

Nesta nodded, wondering where they’d even manage to do this. It wasn’t as if they could just train out in the open and she couldn’t—wouldn’t—fling open her bedroom door and let him stroll inside. 

“I know a place,” Cassian continued, reading her like a book. Nesta glowered up at him, crossing her arms over her chest for all the good it did. The man killed people as an occupation and she imagined there was nothing about her that scared him.

Which was unfortunate, given how everything about him frightened her. 

Why couldn’t he be the prince—stop it.

“Shall I meet you here, then?”

Cassian shrugged his broad shoulders, outlined beneath the shirt he wore. He hadn’t bothered to lace up the neck the way so many other nobles did, nor did he put a tunic over top of it which would have given him the appearance of a well-bred gentleman. No, Cassian seemed to have made peace with the fact that he was who he was and she liked that. 

“Wherever you like, Nes,” he replied casually, unaware of how the nickname clanged through her. No one else would have dared. Cassian didn’t look as if he’d even noticed he did it. Did that make her like him more or less? “I’ll find you.”

“Just like that?”

Cassian’s hazel eyes gleamed, the brightest thing in the gloom. “I could find you anywhere, princess. Don’t concern yourself with me.”

“I never do, Cass,” she snapped back, catching that half feral smile spreading across his handsome features. 

Cocking his head, head tilted toward the misty sky, Cassian murmured, “My name sounds good in your mouth. I’ll see you tomorrow, princess.”

He left her there wishing he’d called her Nes instead. Wishing he’d stayed. And Nesta knew no matter how she tried to distract herself, she would be counting the minutes until he did find her. Nesta decided to make it a game just so she could prove him wrong which might settle her racing heart down.

He was just a man, and men were always disappointing. 

Nesta dragged herself out of bed early enough to avoid Cassian. She went directly to the kitchen for breakfast before marching across the palace to the room that had once belonged to her sister. Nesta liked to read in the window alcove overlooking the sea, which had once been one of Elain’s favorite places. The garden was nothing but bones, but Nesta had screamed and fought to keep Elain’s room intact rather than turned into another bland, uninspired room for the roaming nobility. 

Elain wasn’t coming home but that didn’t mean she needed to be erased, either. Everyone wanted to pretend she’d never existed. Nesta wouldn’t let it go. Forgetting or forgiving had never been one of her virtues.

She’d leave that to Feyre.

She didn’t believe Cassian would find her here, and thought even if he did, he wouldn’t dare step inside. And yet…she heard the heavy steps on the stone before she saw him and swore his presence made the walls shake with anticipation.

Perhaps that was just her.

Cassian seemed wildly out of place among the cream and rose and tulle, though he managed not to seem too awkward about it. Looking around, she thought she saw the spark of recognition.

“How did you find me?” she asked, hating the weariness in her voice. Why had she allowed him to?

“You know how,” Cassian replied, his eyes settling on her. “Do you want to go? Or would you like to talk about it?”

Nesta had never spoken of Elain’s death. Feyre had internalized all of it, blaming herself and Nesta had been paralyzed with fear. What did she say? Their father had become a walking shell of his former self, grieving the daughter he’d loved best and the wife he’d genuinely loved. Someone had to take care of things and without Elain, the responsibility fell to Nesta and Feyre. 

They’d swallowed their grief and held the court together lest someone try and overthrow their family. They’d  become sharp—ruthless—in their pursuit of it. What would Nesta even say? That she missed her? 

She didn’t think Elain would be very proud of what had happened in her absence. 

“I have no interest in speaking to you,” she hissed, drawing those walls up high. This was her fault—she’d brought him here—and yet Cassian wasn’t supposed to comment on it, either. He was supposed to say nothing, to not care the way everyone else did. Nesta knew, as she stood, that she’d brought him here to prove he wasn’t any better than the rest of the men in her life. He was just as disinterested, just as scheming, just as power hungry as the rest of them.

She could have softened, just a little. Nesta felt the compulsion warring with the urge to hurt him the way she’d been hurt. Maybe Cassian felt it, too, because he waited until her back was facing him to speak.

“My mother was murdered when I was a boy,” he said, clearing his throat so the words were crisp. “I know how it feels to lose someone you love.”

“How?” Nesta heard herself asking, still refusing to look at him. 

Cassian blew out a breath. “She had me out of wedlock. My father, he…well. He was a piece of shit, let's leave it at that. In some places in the Spine, that sort of thing still matters and the village she lived in decided it was better to rid themselves of her than to let other women think it was okay…” Cassian choked off, not out of misery, but rage. The sound was enough to turn her head, to look at his anger. 

“How old were you?” she asked, hating how badly she wanted to touch his hand.

“Three. Old enough…old enough to remember just enough, but too young to really understand what I lost.”

“What happened to you?”

Cassian shrugged, his jaw clenched. “I grew up in training grounds and war rooms.”

He seemed born for it. It was impossible to imagine Cassian as anything but a warrior, but right then, Nesta wondered who else he could have been. A farmer, perhaps? A poet? A scholar? It seemed distinctly unfair that one person could make a decision and irrevocably alter whole lives without any thought or consideration. 

She took a step toward him. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Cassian’s expression softened. “Don’t be. I had my revenge.”

All the air in Nesta’s body left her lungs in a rough exhale. “How?”

“I went back as a man and rounded them all up. I spared the innocent, but everyone else…I let them meet the man they made.”

I let them meet the man they made.

“I’ll never get that,” Nesta said, her despair coloring her words. “He got to march an army into my home and kill my sister, my mother…and life just goes on.”

Cassian regarded her for a moment without words. “You’d need an army if you wanted vengeance, Nes.”

“The military answers to my father,” was her perfunctory response.

“Imagine if they didn’t,” Cassian replied, dropping his voice to the softest whisper. 

“I imagine so all the time,” Nesta heard herself admit. Treason. This was treason and she was stupid to confess it to a foreign King's general. All Cassian had to do was turn around and tell Rhysand, who would have an absurd amount of leverage against her. It would have been Nesta’s word against Cassian’s, and if someone was feeling anxious about her rise to the throne, she’d be thrown into the tower until they decided what to do with her.

She could be executed for it. 

“I’ve seen your men,” Cassian told her, his words careful. “They couldn’t take on the worst of the southern’s forces.”

She suspected this. Helion had decimated them a decade earlier and rebuilding took time and effort. Their navy was pitiful, their army small and their coffers all but depleted. Eris Vanserra had been her best option and he’d vanished and for all she knew, was having some beautiful, heartfelt reunion with the mother who’d abandoned him.

And Nesta hated Rhysand. Hated him more than was fair, partly because he was arrogant and smug and partly because she wished Rhysand was Cassian when she knew she shouldn’t. How was she supposed to marry a man all the while wishing she could have married his friend? And Nesta wasn’t naive—she didn’t expect love. But there was something particularly cruel about wanting someone you knew you could never have.

And Cassian was someone she could never have. 

“Come on,” Cassian murmured, pulling her from her thoughts. “Let’s put a sword in your hand, at least.” And when he went to follow her, fingers brushing her back, Nesta didn’t pull away. Maybe it was foolish.

But she trusted him.

It ought to have been a quiet night, lounging in an uncomfortable bed while listening to the world rage just outside thin windows. Rhys had a book and a carafe of wine he intended to down until he forgot about blue eyes and freckles that looked more like a constellation of stars. 

The muffled voices of Azriel and Cassian were immaterial to him—and deeply disinteresting until his bedroom door flung open and Cassian appeared, wet and mudstreaked.

And angry.

“What happened?” Rhys asked, only a little drunk. 

“Are you planning to marry Nesta Archeron?” Cassian asked, crossing his arms over the leather armor he wore. Behind him, Azriel shook his head no in warning, eyes wide. 

Be careful what you say.

In all the years Rhys had known Cassian, he’d seen him worked up a handful of times. They’d raged in the camp, at the people who’d killed his mother, and at Rhys’s father before they’d eventually overthrown him. And Cassian had taken lovers in between all those moments, declaring he would die a bachelor surrounded by…well. Perhaps it was better not to say.

Cassian looked like he wanted to get his knuckles bloody and if Rhys didn’t know any better, he would have said it was about a woman. 

“You know I have no intention of marrying her,” Rhys replied evenly. Rhys was too fixated on her sister, for starters, to even give Nesta the time of day but the little he’d spoken to her reaffirmed that he and Nesta were more likely to kill each other before they enjoyed marital bliss. “Did something happen?”

Cassian clenched his jaw, eyes too dark to be rational. Oh.

“We should leave this place,” Cassian said, his words catching Rhys off guard. “They’re no threat to Helion. I nearly killed one of their boys masquerading as a warrior with a wooden sword today.”

“And if she married Vanserra?” Rhys asked, swinging his legs off the bed casually. How far could he take this before Cassian exploded? And what then? Even if Cassian had developed feelings for Nesta—which didn’t seem possible given what an Ice Queen she was—there was no possibility in which Rhys could put them together. No way he’d give up his general even if it meant Cassian’s happiness.

With Nesta Archeron? No. In Rhys’s mind, he took Feyre back with him, rescuing her from this powder keg masquerading as a kingdom and let Helion absorb all of it before Eris Vanserra could get his talons into it. 

Cassian turned, slamming his fist into the door frame which did nothing to the structure but likely wrecked Cassian’s hand. There it was. 

“You know better—”

“You don’t know what she’s like,” Cassian snapped, his voice dripping with anger. “You’ve already made up your mind about her.”

“So enlighten me,” Rhys replied, knowing this was folly. Cassian’s lips pressed into a bloodless line, daring Rhys to punish him for disobedience. Oh, they were so fucked. If Cassian did anything with a princess, they were likely to execute him and Rhys didn’t know if he’d be able to intervene. 

If Helion called on them for help taking the North, it had always been Rhys’s intention of answering that call. Cassian would have to lead the charge. Would he? Would Cassian let his soldiers sweep into Ellesmere knowing they might accidentally kill Nesta Archeron? Would he take her prisoner, force her to live in Rhys’s court against her will? 

Never once since he’d met Cassian had Rhys ever doubted his loyalty. 

He did right then.

“Go cool off,” Rhys ordered when Cassian said nothing. He didn’t want to hear how sweet and soft Nesta Archeron could be. Not from Cassian, who ought to know better. Cassian did as he was told, shaking out his hand before storming out, leaving Azriel and Rhys staring at the other.

“Don’t,” Rhys warned.

“I didn’t say anything,” Azriel protested mildly. 

“What the fuck am I going to do about this?” Rhys demanded, turning toward a window. 

“We could leave,” Azriel suggested, again, without any emotion to his words. They could have been talking about the weather, could have been discussing a nice pair of wollen socks.

“Archeron isn’t going to hand you his youngest daughter.”

Never mind that Feyre hated him. Archeron had made it abundantly clear that Feyre wasn’t available, either hoping for a better alliance with his eldest daughter or some misguided attempt at protecting Feyre. 

“And if we left?”

Azriel sighed. “Nolan intends to position his eldest son for the throne. He’s a viable candidate and preferable to Vanserra.” “And if she declines?”

Because she would. Nolan couldn’t give Nesta what she wanted, which was a standing army capable of devastating destruction. He’d table her obvious ambition and if he was smart, he’d make her a mother before the ink dried on their contract. 

“A coup,” Azriel replied, plopping into a chair. “And Nolan will likely marry one of the Archeron’s anyway, if only for legitimacy. We should leave.”

But their presence was keeping everything calm for the moment. No one wanted to start a fight Cassian might be able to easily end, nor did they want Rhys to lay claim to their hard work. He couldn’t help but wonder if Nolan wouldn’t pick Feyre, too. Could he stand to see another man marry her?

No.

Rhys had to do something. Had to figure out his own careful alliances before the end of the summer. 

Fuck.

He was just as stupid as Cassian. 

“I want you to go see Helion. Get a read on what’s going on down there,” Rhys said, wondering if there was any way to salvage the impending storm. How many of his own soldiers could he march into Ellesmere before it began to feel like an invading force? And how did he tell Archeron his nobles might be revolting beneath his nose? Did he? 

For now, the answer to that was no.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” Azriel promised. “You need to be careful, though.”

“They can’t hurt me,” Rhys replied with false bravado. Azriel caught him immediately.

“They could. And they would. Keep Cass close, alright? Don’t needle him too hard about Nesta…she’s not that bad, you know. She’s just sad.”

“Why would Cassian want to be around that?” Rhys scoffed, hating the look of sympathy in Azriel’s eyes.

“Two weeks enough?” Azriel questioned.  

“Unless you think you need more.”

Azriel only nodded wordlessly, saying nothing as Rhys swept from the room. It was foolish to think Azriel didn’t know exactly who he was looking for or why marrying Nesta felt so offensive to him. Azriel knew everything—it was his job to know, though he liked to pretend he wasn’t a busybody, too. 

She wasn’t even trying to hide from him. And this time, when Rhys found her at the top of that tower with the bow and quiver of arrows, he asked, “Can you use that thing?”

“Want to find out?”

She turned, her braid draped over her slim shoulder to look at him. “Yes.”

Maybe she heard the desperation in his voice. Or perhaps he was simply winning her over with his refusal to acknowledge the word no. Feyre swung her legs off the edge of that window and reached for her weapon, her face hidden in shadow. “Could you use it?”

“No,” he admitted. Rhys had never had that kind of aim or the patience required to sit and wait for someone to come within range. He liked to be in the middle of things, sword in hand but even that had been diminished since he’d become king. “You could teach me.”

Feyre considered this for a moment before jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “It’s too wet for today.”

She tried to push past him but Rhys’s body took up the majority of the doorway. Fingers catching around her wrist, he asked, “Who are you waiting for?”

Feyre tried to pull her hand away but Rhys wasn’t done touching her. Tell me you’re in love with another man so I can let you go.

“He’s not coming back…and if he did…” Feyre bit her bottom lip, her expression coming into view of the flickering candle nearby. “If he did, I think I’d kill him.”

Oh.

So this was the man she’d slept with—the man her father decided had irrevocably tainted her. Rhys wanted to see it.

“Call him back to court,” he murmured, catching her by surprise.

“Is this some kind of ego—”

“I would like to watch you kill a man. Is that so unbelievable?” he asked, keeping his usual amusement from his tone. It was too much to bare when she came closer, her free hand appearing just below his neck holding a lethally sharp blade.

“What if the man I kill is you?” she asked. 

Rhys’s whole body went taut with excitement. Wrapping his fingers around her own, Rhys forced her to press the blade a little rougher against his skin—until it pierced the fine fabric of his black tunic and he could feel the point directly against his clavicle. 

“I’d like that, too.”

“You’re sick. Do you know that?”

“Yes,” he breathed, unable to drag his eyes off her. “You’re the sickness, Feyre.”

“You should stay away from me,” she replied, not pulling away but not pushing any harder, either. Reckless, Rhys didn’t move either. It would have been so easy for her to kill him. They were alone and he was an outsider. If she killed him, she could say he tried to force himself on her.

Cassian and Azriel would have no choice but to flee rather than risk their own executions and without an heir or clear line of succession, his home would be thrown into turmoil while the warring members of his family vied for control. 

“I don’t want to stay away from you,” Rhys told her, deciding at the last minute it was better not to add that he couldn’t. That if he couldn’t convince her to love him back, he’d merely steal her away in the middle of the night and insinuate he’d ruined her so she could never return.

Mor would kill him for it, of course, but what was the alternative? Never seeing her again? 

Rhys would rather she kill him right then and there. 

“That doesn’t sound very smart,” Feyre replied, pulling from his grasp and taking a step back. She sheathed her blade in her boot before elbowing him hard in the ribs to escape him. He didn’t bother with a response—let her have the last word. Rhys was too busy grinning.

Unwilling to admit that the only good idea he’d ever had was her.

#elucien #look whose back back again mbs back tell NO ONE this is a SECRET

[mccnstruck]

for forever, never yours.

characters: kazuha x gn!reader

tags: hurt no comfort, angst, mutual pining but you never get together, kazuha has commitment issues LMFAO, short fic, kissing

a/n: if you saw this before....no you didnt. HAHA but i reposted it because this wouldnt show up on any tags whatsoever and i need validation but anyways ENJOY

Your body shook rapidly, and had it not been for the individual in front of you, you would have thought of the house to be cold. Yet, the cold winds outside couldn't bear to strike your heart, as his quiet, unsweetened words did.

Your hands encaptured his, and you lowered your head to avoid his pitiful gaze.

“Please, Kazuha. I know you like me. I've seen the letters. I'm not blind to the way you look at me. Please.”

Refusing to let him see your tears, you failed to notice the accompanied shine in his eyes.

“You know I cannot fulfill your wish, my star.”

You shot your head up.

“Why…just why?! If you have the ability to write about my presence with words so sweet it hurts, then why can't you say it to me right now? Why can't you confess to me right now?”

You paused your outburst and lowered your head in desperation. Tears pricked your vision.

“Why call me ‘my star’ when I can't even be yours…?”

For the first time in your acquaintance with Kazuha, you had finally got him to become undoubtedly, utterly speechless. Yet, no sense of acknowledgement or reward eased the burning pain in your heart.

A silence of sadness drowned your heart in longing, yet the very person you longed for was so close…

And yet…so, so far.

“I… I cannot make you mine. I've dreamt of your eyes sharing the very yearning I've held in my heart. Your hands have held my own in a way that no one else would be able to. Yet, you know of my position. I cannot stay here.”

“I'm not trying to stop you, Kazuha, I was never going to stop you. I just want you. Have you thought of that?”

“I have thought of it–time and time again. That is entirely the issue, star.”

His hands left yours and gently cradled your jaw, enough for you to look back at his glimmering eyes and the aching sorrow filling his words.

“I cannot burden you with that unknowing of my presence. You deserve to belong in the arms of someone who can kiss you goodnight and stay to kiss you good morning.”

Your voice cracked, and you wondered how long he had rehearsed these words, this dialogue, in his head. For as much as you gazed your eyes over the letters you found, you never found the sad goodbye of what could have been lovers.

“I don't care about how long I will have to wait until I can see you again. Hell, I don't care if I don't see you for years! I just… I just want to be yours. I just want to know that I was yours. That you would think of me as yours.”

Kazuha’s eyes widened, and he struggled to find words to ease your heart.

“I…You have to understand, Kazuha. My heart will ache, regardless. Yet, do not leave me with the possibilities of what could have been. What we could've been.”

Kazuha paused to let your words etch itself onto his skin.

“I cannot burden you with me. However, I will be here in your arms for one night more. I will be yours tonight.”

You stayed silent, staring into his crimson eyes.

Oh, how love, burning with a passionate red, could leave such an aching pain in your heart. Love blends in with the blood pulsing through your veins; it becomes one with your blood. It creeps into the heart, and the heart bursts with desire; it is fueled with a purpose. But love could be very much fatal. Love will be stripped from your being; and when your heart deems it as necessary, it will burst out of your ribs, begging for it back.

Love is found in Kazuha’s crimson, knowing eyes.

“Kiss me.”

And love is found when he hadn’t hesitated to oblige to your request.

He kissed you so feverently, desperately holding on to your presence. His hands traced your cheeks, noted every mole, every single detail, until he could vividly recall your face behind his eyelids.

He felt your hands bring him closer, and felt your tears become heavier. Yet he knew he had no right to wipe them away when they were the reflection of his choices.

You tried to pull away, but he only pulled you back in. He kissed your cheeks, your nose, your temples. When his lips hovered over yours, he spoke.

“Find me once more, take me by the hands, and I promise to you I will kiss you with every single vow of staying.”

He leaned in even closer, and felt your breath on his.

“Will I be able to find you in every universe, Kazuha?”

“Absolutely. For if there is a universe without you, what is there for me to live for?”

He leaned to kiss you once more, and you let him. For you both know that he would leave without his heart in the morning; and that you would stay in your empty abode; your heart will burst to see a glimpse of a shadow that would never be yours.

mccnstruck

#recovered_literature_! #astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x gender neutral reader #kazuha x y/n